#however it was too good to just discard tho

[violaobanion]

Michael Fassbender as EDWARD FAIRFAX ROCHESTER in Jane Eyre (2011) dir. Cary Joji Fukunaga

for @springsteens

[bomber-grl]

Cuddle/Sleep Headcanons 💤🌙

Pairing(s): characters x Gn!reader

Character(s): Percy, Jason, Leo, Frank, Hazel, Annabeth, Piper, Calypso, Ethan, Nico, Octavian, Reyna

Percy Jackson

He’s a horrible sleeper

I mean sure, you can sleep and cuddle like the couple you are

However, that doesn’t stop him from sleeping wildly

Limbs sprawled all over the freaking place and the only reason you know is because of the concerning amount of times you’ve woken up under some of them

To make it worse?

He’s a blanket hogger

He doesn’t rlly hog it in the sense that he steals it all

I mean he does, but he sorta just slides off the bed and takes the rest of the blanket with him

The urge to just 🔫

But yea 😞

Nice to cuddle with but not to sleep with sorry not sorry

6/10

Jason Grace

Kinda stiff ngl

Like damn bitch, you live like this?

Plus he sleeps on his back face up 😭😭😭

Like wtf Jason

Are u ok?

In terms of actually cuddling, he’s pretty good

His arms are firm and his hugs are tight yet comforting

Plus he smells pretty good

Like no joke

I’d kinda see you sleeping on his chest since bro sleeps on his back

It’s nice but the stiffness is not appreciated 🙅

Atleast he’s not a blanket hogger and he’s quite considerate with the blankets and stuff

So

8/10

Leo Valdez

He sleeps two different ways

The first way is pretty compacted

What I mean is, he sleeps he sleeps bundled up by the blanket in a blanket burrito

The other one is where he sleeps sprawled out, limbs all over the place, blanket discarded

Just like Percy

So when he’s in a blanket burrito best believe he’s taking you with him

He usually does this during winter because he naturally runs hot

Anyway, he pulls you in and kinda bundled the blanket around you two for you guys to cuddle and be as close as possible

But when he’s sprawled out with his limbs everywhere he likes to cuddle with you on top of him

That or you’re abused and crushed by him in your sleep

Plus yknow how he runs hot? Well it’s absolute hell

It’s so hot and honestly suffocating when he’s sleeping on you 💀

Throw him on the ground pls

Ima rate him a 7/10 cuz he ain’t bad and if anything I love him so 🤷

Frank Zhang

He’s the best

Sorta…

He’s obviously huge so

He fully embraces you and hugs you so it’s pretty comfortable

And he sleeps on his side or stomach so there’s plenty of room

Even if he’s a bit stiff he’s still pretty nice to cuddle with

He’s pretty considerate on how you like to sleep/cuddle

He likes holding you so he’s not that picky

Honestly nothing to complain about with him

Except for one thing…

You can’t tell me this guy doesn’t fart 😐

I’m sorry but he just gives me those vibes

And it’s so bad

And not even on purpose either

It just happens but it’s the most traumatic thing ever

He feels pretty bad too 😭

Also when y’all are sleeping you just end up on different sides of the bed

He’s just casually on top of the blanket and you can’t even pull it from under him

You’re left shivering in the cold

Hazel Levesque

I love her 🫶

I see her sleeping on her sides and stomach tbh

She’s so sweet too

She loves to cuddle with you and even tho she doesn’t rlly have a firm grip she still likes to hold you

She especially likes to sleep on you

Either on your chest or just cuddled up to you

And she smells pretty sweet

Like clean laundry too like lawd

But ofc there’s gotta be some downsides

There’s isn’t really none with her, but with you

You end up stealing the blankets and hazel wakes up mad and cranky

That’s all and she quickly forgives you

Annabeth Chase

Sleeps on her back or side

She doesn’t really like cuddling all that much

She prefers to have some space and stuff when she sleeps

But if you want, she’s open to cuddling

She loves to both be held and to hold you

Mostly it’s mutual holding

Plus she probably sleeps with the fan on

Idk how to explain it

If you’re the type to always talk during night time then she’d react differently

Like if you gotta sleep asap cuz of the mission and all you do is yap

Then she’s turning her back on you and ignoring

What a meanie

At least she apologizes the next day but still

I don’t rlly see her stealing the blanket or anything but she is pretty stiff

Like besides hugging and stuff she lowkey just lets you hug her when she doesn’t feel like moving

Mood

Also since she smells good ofc ur gon sniff and she’ll be weirded out and ignore u this way too 😞

Piper McLean

She sleeps anyway tbh

She pretty cuddly and likes to snuggle w you

She usually likes to be held, but either way is fine

Especially after a fight or exhausting time with monsters

She’ll hold you in her arms too

She smells pretty nice and if you say so?

Well she finds it endearing

Unlike a certain someone

*cough cough* annabeth

But yea she’s the best

But she won’t hesitate to kick you out if you refuse to share the blanket

She gets enough crap from Leo

Who is just constantly annoying her

Calypso

The best

Like she fr loves to cuddle

With everything she’s been through best believe she’s the best cuddler

Honestly she sleeps whatever way

She’s another who loves to be held and to hold others

Especially if you’re hurt or anything

Then she’s try and tend to you

Even in sleep

Most times she’s a small spoon

She’s loved so many people who never loved her back

So perhaps she’s just a tad bit touch starved

And would obviously give in to any affection

As previously mentioned she loves to hold you too

Mostly just having you lean on her shoulder or lay on her lap but it also extends to cuddling on occasion

She’ll have you lay on her chest and in her arms and play with your hair

Ethan Nakamura

He’s so stiff it’s painful

(Not actually)

He’s definitely loyal, the books show that much

So despite his personal feelings with touch (he’s no doubt another touch starved person) he’d like to cuddle with you nonetheless

Not much in the beginning but he’d definitely warm up to you

And in the process, realize how much he wants it

He’ll let you love him however you want (cuddle him) and let you play with his hair

Which he loves

Eventually he gets enough courage to reciprocate

But he’s still stiff

Not the best when hugging or cuddling you because of how flustered he gets

Once you two go to bed and he falls asleep, he gets pretty subconsciously protective so he’ll hold you tight

Nico Di Angelo

Yes

Just yes

He loves to cuddle never made it obvious before tho

Another who was pretty stiff and touch starved

He gets over it quickly when he sees what you have to offer

I mean usually he just sleeps bundled up under the blankets, engulfed by their warmth

But with you there he just pulls you under the blankets with him so you can cuddle that way

Is mostly just mutual holding

He mostly just liked to intertwine your legs or hold onto you like a koala

I see him as a blanket stealer when you’re not glued together

He’s either super sleepy or not at all

When he’s tired he just drags you to bed, since that’s the only time nightmares don’t plague him

But when hes suffering from his insomnia he likes it when you stay up and talk with him

Idk to him it feels intimate but if you choose to go to bed, he won’t take it personally

If you play with his hair he won’t admit it but he loves it

Octavian

Ew.

Sorry I hate him but seeing that you’re here, you probs love him

So let’s get this over w

He’s rlly long and lanky and boney

Doesn’t stop yall from cuddling tho ig

And like a weirdo he sleeps on his back, arms to his side, head facing upward

Honestly probably obsessed with you

Only way he’d cuddle/ be in a relationship with you

He’s probably never been touched by another person

So he definitely likes to be held

Plus the bastard is selfish

And he doesn’t hold you

😐…

Yea so 1/10

I’m being generous

Reyna Ramirez-Arellano

I love her 😭🫶🫶

Yea she probs love you so ofc she’s gonna cuddle w u

Often times she’s busy with the duties of praetor so she can’t cuddle 😞

But it’s ok cuz when she can it’s the best

Not only is she holding you and making you feel cared after

But she also plays with your hair

Also you have to hold her

I don’t make the rules, just look at her, she needs it

When you do she’s a bit put off

But eventually she lets you coddle her

So more often than not she’s little spoon and comfortable

Just like she deserves

Yes beautiful

9/10

————————-

Note: I just realized Reyna is a hunter now idk why I even wrote hers 😭 maybe pre-hunter Reyna??? Idk man

[theguyinthemathexamples]

Opportunity Awaits None

— sahsrau/sahsr fic based on my pookie aventurine for good luck (⁠＠⁠°⁠▽⁠°⁠＠⁠)⁠ᕗ ♡

— C/W : 2.1 trailblazer quest spoilers, sillies stealing the show first, ooc pookies, VERY self indulgent, new fic style?, slight aventio/raturine??, a lil angsty in some parts?? (tell me if i missed anything 💝)

Claiming oneself to be adored by an Aeon would be a bold, and otherwise egotistical way of getting attention. But with his friend even being heard mumbling to himself for being discarded as of late, not to mention the light whispers he's been hearing lately... the Doctor might not blame Aventurine for describing himself as going nuts.

While he was investigating things about that Emanator, and a few strings pulled later... he accidentally came across a lovely piece of information that she felt her own strings being pulled long before he made his grandest performance yet in Penacony.

It was taught, then loosened, and then forcefully yanked in a never ending cycle, she said. There were long periods of time that she began to wonder whether or not this feeling finally disappeared, only to be hit by another harsh pull. As of late, however, these harsh tugs haven't been felt after she finally remembered to pen a letter to the Astral Express's Conductor that both refused their offer to arrive at the Express, as well as making someone else bite the bullet.

As for who this was was insignificant to him— he'll find it out himself eventually. But the whispers? The tugging? The feeling of being watched? That letter? Aventurine knew all too well what these meant. The Aeon of Creation's manifestations in the mortal realm.

This wasn't all new news, though, as such a phenomenon had already happened to others before. But for him to hear them? That was certainly a surprise.

To be fair, he's heard them a bit before. The whispers arrived just a bit after he stepped foot in the Planet of Festivities, and he initially mistook them for crowds outside being too loud as they were more quiet back then.

Though, these whispers have been getting louder and louder the past few days. He's almost embarrassed to confess that this was worrying him. They varied from promises vowing to make him "come home" to them, to absolute hysterical laughter akin to the Aeon of Elation's ones. Who knows what that Aeon was thinking. Not him, surely.

And a few too many deep dives into rabbit holes led him to a reasonable conclusion of that Aeon taking an interest in him. ... By the Amber Lord, no, Veritas, he swears he's not succumbing to insanity.

Aventurine had asked the Doctor about this, knowing he had a good amount of experience with this sort of thing for a good while now. Unfortunately for him all of the answers he got were "You'll know in due time." and "Perhaps if you willingly offered yourself to the Aeon maybe those whispers would disappear faster than you bothering me about them."

Rarely does he get more cryptic responses like, "A reach too far shall become an embrace at a moments notice for you, gambler," Veritas mumbles beside him, getting up not too long after saying such without so much as another word. Not before giving him water when he complained about getting too overwhelmed by them and sought someone more familiar, one who bore experience and knowledge of such things firsthand.

Sometimes, Aventurine wondered if it was all some sort of joke that even the highest of the divine beings of this universe were playing on him, but some of the voices were almost quick to reassure him. Often he heard of music playing, words he seemed to partially understand ringing in his ears as he signed one document after the other.

Maybe he'll finally get the freedom he's yearned for so long if he devoted his whole being to THEM instead of the Amber Lord. ... Maybe he'll consider such an act of heresy at a later date.

Note : Try Not To Froth At The Mouth Looking At Aventurine Challenge (IMPOSSIBLE ‼️‼️) (I BROKE MY KNEE‼️‼️‼️)

On a lighter note, tho: my interpretation will unfortunately be published later in the month and im just speedrunning this for good luck on my pookie wookie patootie gookie nookie bear aventurine pulls 🫶

Am i sane for this man? Have i been delulu about him for the past few days?? Mmm,,,, who knows :3

[leafdrake-haven]

Ok so I’ve been low key trying to put together some sort of modern drake deck because I hate winning and I love pain (and drakes). Izzet makes the most sense but today I was playing with Jeskai. Which made me intrigued…. With making a drake typal deck for commander in Jeskai colors xD

Pros to making a Jeskai drake typal commander deck: Can have all the good Izzet drakes plus thunderclap wyvern plus white buff spells.

Cons to making a Jeskai drake typal commander deck: Not a great commander for it, when we INEVITABLY get a drake typal commander (or second one if you count Alandra) it will likely be mono blue or Izzet colors so I would probably have to take it apart for that.

Drakes are relatively cheap tho and I like them (duh) so I might do it ~anyway~

Right now my two top contenders for the deck leader are:

Now Akim. People who play with me are laughing that I’m choosing a commander that cares about and makes tokens xD I think this works really well with drake tokens tho since they’re fairly small, doublestrike is nice. Downside is really only Alandra and Talrand reliably make drake tokens. It’s commander so I could afford probably to add Drake Haven and Roost of Drakes but I don’t know how much discard/cycle and kicker I’d actually be doing. Also that’s still only 4/100 cards reliably or semi-reliably making drake tokens. I could, however, add a lot of creature copy spells in here and make copies of drake creatures and that might help cover for it. Plus many copies of thunderclap wyvern, tideskimmer, or storm skreelix could be very handy.

Dear Narset. I want her strictly for her first line of text and that’s it. Drakes with prowess. That’s the deck. Don’t get me wrong, her second ability would be helpful too but I feel like I’d rarely attack with her just so my drakes could always have prowess.

So yeah. These are my ideas so far. I’m sure there are other potential Jeskai commanders for drakes but in my brief perusal these seemed the best :3

Tagging local Jeskai deck aficionado @connoissuer-of-fine-vines

[daemon-in-my-head]

Eh fuck it. Oc lore cuz I wanna (I'm sorry).

Sooo, my lil gremlin Elli has a bunch of names. Obv, Elli being one of them and the one I too use most frequently, but alas, it's just an alias.

His actual given name is Fionnlagh, nickname used to be Fine. Me being me tho, those names all have a distinct meaning, and those meanings tell that story of what's going on with him.

Fionnlagh means white warrior, pure knight, that sorta shit. It's the name that was mainly used when he was still a kid, pre-Bhaal and everything. Yk, that time when he trained to join a Paladin order cuz he wanted the ability to protect his family properly.

After daddy dearest intervened however, he discarded that name and he didn't pick up his new alias immediately. My guy was kinda trapped in the shadow fell for a while, and the Shadarkai who adopted him there gave him the name Ellifain. It's inspired by another elf that was hellbent on getting revenge on someone (who was their saviour unbeknownst to them) and died in the name of said revenge. The nickname Elli developed thx to a certain tyrant's intervention, and as such, he's also the only one who uses it. The name Elli in and of itself means torch, the light you're searching for, blinding light, that kinda shit. After all he is the solution Gortash was looking for.

Now as for his final name, Fine, that was a nickname his family had used. Gortash knows his full name but buddy didn't even bother remembering so eh. Anyway. Fine means end in Italian. In music it refers to the point where movement ceases. My boy is the kid of a bard so that's how that ties together, and well, he died to reclaim that name so it fits. It's also the primary name he uses post-epilogue. And since I adore tragedies, the people who would eventually die at his hands calling him the end is the cosmic irony I so enjoy.

The last name, Starym, is the name of an old and pretty much ruined noble elven house that, at the point where BG3 takes place, has been pretty much forgotten. The noteworthy part about that family, however is that they owned an enchanted sword, which had the tiny downside that anyone who wielded it and wasn't of chaotic good alignment would go mad. The house hadn't found a wielder for the sword for a while before its ruin and everyone who tried went mad which ended up sealing the houses fate. And apparently even the adopted descendants share a similar fate but I won't get to spoilery bout that. Yet. Give me another 2 weeks lol.

Oh also the cult, Sarevok and Orin never once refer to him by any of his names. Pre Tadpole the name he used for any sort of business dealings and the one that was known to the Patriars he definitely didn't blackmail frequently was Ellifain, after all it is a common elven name so nobody batted an eye. He avoided revealing any sort of last name, instead insisting everyone used the first name and to appear more 'open' and giving ppl a sense of a close relationship. Alas, to bad all of them were simply funds to him.

Feel free to ask shit about him cuz I definitely don't have the most elaborate backstory you've ever seen for him and love talking about the bitch, nah I'd never. He's not my beloved brain child.

[kapitankondoriano]

Hi there, I really love your One Piece art and it inspired me to get back into drawing again! I hope this isn't a weird question or anything but do you have any drawing tips? I'm a beginner artist and am struggling a bit (with drawing humans). Thank you and have a great day!

Hoi! I am really sorry it took me a long time to reply to this ;; I'm touched you ask me for advice, however, I'm not a good teacher but I do want to help out!

• Use references, learn programs where you can adjust 3D models and draw over them (CSP has this function) and download various brushes - try out different brushes and see which ones come most natural to you!

• Don't spend too long on drawing something because if it doesn't look right, open a new canvas and draw it again! Don't be afraid to try different styles, you don't have to be faithful to just one. I also recommend that when you draw, make sure your brush size is big! Using small brush sizes will distract you too much and you're gonna feel like you want to constantly correct something, while fatter brush strokes will hide mistakes and the drawing will look more appealing to you.

Here's two examples of my first draft vs sketch/lineart vs base colors:

I always draw drafts in one go and fix quick mistakes (usually either arms are too small, head too big etc) and create a new layer, lower the brush size and go crazy

• As for characters, that is all up to you and you gotta ask yourself what kind of character caters to your taste?

• If you don't like how your first draft of something looks like, that's ok! You can discard it and start a new, don't put too much time in erasing and such. Sometimes art doesn't look right and there's nothing wrong with that )))))

You don't have to listen to all what I said tho, I'd recommend to utilise shapes before tackling any sort of anatomy or you'll get frustrated! I don't draw accurate anatomy, sometimes you just go with what looks good to you! I'm of the opinion that you'll do great regardless!

[monstrouslyobsessed]

some super quick ask answering!! you know the drill.

tw: sex-ual implications, links to n'sfw works, and references to gore

Oh, may I give a few recs? Not exactly the yandere ones, but monster ones – Nemu is a treasure, really! I loved monster design in Lustful Kitty Cat and Tanuki's Lover is rlly sweet xD If talking about more yandere side, A Gently Sea Monster and a Lonely Girl r kinda nice, but I'm not a fan of artstyle.

Hope u didn't mind it, have a nice day!

(here's links on that recs, pls ignore if this is too much x"D)

Few of Nemu works: Lustful kitty cat--- bato.to/series/101308/lustful-little-kitty-cat Kissing is a no-no--- bato.to/series/101223/kissing-is-a-no-no Love Marking(sequel to kissing is a no no)--- bato.to/series/105109/love-marking Pure wet love--- bato.to/series/98787/pure-wet-love Tanuki's Lover--- bato.to/series/105054/tanuki-s-lover-official --- A Gently Sea Monster and a Lonely Girl --- https://comiko.net/chapter/2044214

Again, have a nice day! —anonymous

ive read all of those!! good taste, nonnie <3 especially since ive lost couple links and i couldn’t find them again. tysm!!

note to the curious: all of these are not safe for work!! and a couple may contain noncon. proceed on your own discrete.

Lol don’t apologize, I knew it was gonna be fucked when I read the tags I just didn’t realize ppl were making hentai into psychological warfare nowadays haha —anonymous

yeah (good written) horror pron (as in with legit pron) would do that to ya, theyre not that common though, which is unfortunate as it’s a niche thing i wouldve loved to see more of. pretty rare to find a good / decent story with both horror and pron, more so with the character leads surviving in the end. you’ll find more of these in animation, but in the live action ones (which…i don’t usually browse for, tbh), it’s a huge hit or miss with mostly on the miss since what ive seen is literally just pron on the horror setting and that is it. :\

i do try and contribute to that niche however i can tho lol

Any thoughts on the upcoming FF7 Rebirth game? —anonymous

im broke and i don’t have ps5 :c but also, gimme my vinny boi. where is he.

I think your re-interpretation of the Krasue was cool. I don't see why it would be offensive. But I wonder, when reader saw him without his scarf, he ripped his torso out of the rest of his body? I didn't really understand. —anonymous

sorry nonnie! i tried to keep the story short so ive left out some details (my bad) and ive sorta kept that vague for the readers personal interpretation. i actually kinda imagined several ways the darling couldve caught him changing

i also mentioned that the neighbor also wears long sleeves and gloves, ya? so he was probably all ‘gross’ under his neck thus why he had to wear a scarf. the reader walked in on him ‘naked’.

i also paralleled the scarf to another less commonly known story, The Woman With the Ribbon Around Her Neck, in which if the ribbon is removed, the woman basically falls apart. you can assume that the scarf could potentially do the same, getting it removed would have the neighbor ‘falling’ apart, so to say. the reader walked on him ‘falling’ apart the seconds after he’d discarded his scarf to let his ‘skin’ breathe or whatever.

another way is that, he was hiding the scars you'd have commonly seen with the dead who’d undergone the autopsy, but the stitches couldn’t keep him ‘together’ well enough so he’d have to wear a scarf and everything else to hide the fact that he was basically a walking corpse slash a monster possessing a human skin. the reader walked on him and caught the sight of his abnormal stitches and the neighbor probably started overreacting upon seeing his darling and tore himself out of his body or something. idk.

those are just several possibilities though (i…actually liked them all and i couldn’t decide on which to implement), but all revolving around the fact that the neighbor obviously never wanted to show any bit of naked skin but his face for good reasons + the reader being oblivious / a bit pushy about it.

i actually tried to have the story to sound a little like a common myth to teach a lesson about being too curious / too trusting but idk if that came cross that clearly.

hope that explained some??

and ig im being a bit of worrywart. i never wanted to offend anyone over their cultural values, as their culture is an important part of who they are.

slowly chipping away at my inktober thing. no promises though, since its giving me a bit of trouble and having debates if its too long or not lol

also, yep, im shadowbanned. i'll be posting a bit more about that tonight. gonna try and appeal. sighs.

as always, my inbox is always open for whatever~!

[elysiancloudii]

A post 3-12h shift life tantrum

I’ll start by saying I’m proud of myself for the attitude I had going into this. I knew I had to work three days back to back and I knew what effect that typically has on my mood. So I knew to remind myself that the emotions I have while exhausted are not necessarily a true reflection of my reality.

HOWEVER (lmao)

I had a serious conflict with an ER nurse. It resulted in an extremely public situation and me being ostracized, which is insanity cause I was in the right. But I suppose that’s what you get for being in an insane place: insane results.

My coworker told be after “I know you want things to be done right, I know you care. But you have to stop caring so much. We don’t get paid enough for that.”

My integrity and how I demand justice are seen as faults. I knew this, but I didn’t realize just how much even others with the same complaints viewed it the same. It all returns to the same thing: being too much. Being fundamentally born wrong. And it’s frustrating.

Frustrating is not a good enough description. It’s maddening, exhausting, alienating. I sat back this weekend and realized my bids for connection were seen as annoyance, even bragging in a lot of cases.

I realized, once again, there’s a disconnect between me and other people. One that, no matter how I try, I just can’t seem to bridge. It makes people either openly hostile or subtly hostile. Even people who seemed to enjoy talking to me once, now make sly passive aggressive remarks or plain ignore when I’m speaking.

It’s not fair.

It makes me distrust people further, which worsens my chronic loneliness. I’m not good enough at pretending to be other than what I am, but what I am is like nails on a chalkboard to people.

And it’s not just at work, it’s at home too. People’s eyes glaze over when I talk about my passion. Even mom’s. The rant I have about how I was parentified and now am discarded now that she’s healed and out of that situation could go on for days.

I have no support. I don’t have the expertise or inclination to be other than I am. What do I do?

I literally have to google “how to end chronic loneliness” and “how to trust people again” lol. Most rhetoric I’ve come across is infuriating tho. And honestly, idk if it will even work. The people who claim to love me are either uninterested or emotionally unavailable.

For four days I’ve made a bid for connection with mom to discuss the situation and decompress. Nothing. I feel small and stupid. I feel like everything I’ve been told and taught was a lie.

Part of me wants to move away, far away. I want to punish her. That’s how I feel, now what I actually want to do.

I just want to be treated gently. And I don’t know why no one does. I’m fragile but I’m constantly being hammered away at.

I’m hurt and frustrated and sad. And I feel like the universe keeps telling me: you’re alone, you’re constantly alone, hey did you forget you’re alone. And I just don’t understand the lesson.

I’m tired. I’m tired of my attempts at connection driving people away. I’m sick of being hammered away at. I’m tired of being disrespected. I’m tired of never giving a sliver of what I give. I’m tired of trying over and over and over only to fail again. I feel pathetic.

If I’m going to be this alone, I might as well be alone in the way I want.

Why not move to a big city? Where I may be lonely but at least the shops are open 24/7. Lonely and surrounded by people is at least a little better than lonely somewhere deserted like here. I could listen to my family call and say they miss me, and I could pretend they mean it. That would prob feel a little nice. Better than being here an ignored.

Being human is too stressful. I’m constantly worried about saying the wrong thing, but I feel I’m just fundamentally wrong. Like every time I speak the sims negative social moodlet pops up.

Maybe I should take a vow of silence.

Idk what I’m going to do about work, I have too much integrity and empathy to be a nurse. I love it, but I’m am not right for nursing as it currently stands. I’m too emotional. I care too much. It’s embarrassing that such a cliche notion actually applies.

I’m sad. And I wish I had died any of the times I tried to off myself. I’m not going to again, I know the life cheat code now, but I honestly would prefer if it had happened. I’d be back home with Source. Or maybe reincarnated as a leaf of seaweed destined to be eaten by a sea turtle. Something simple with little to zero consciousness.

The world is wrong and out of harmony, so to fit in with it I would have to be too. But I can’t even find my own little tribe. I want to but there is a common denominator here.

I hate feeling like this. I hate the reality and finality of this. It feels like a punishment that only death would bring the release of.

[icecoldwilliams]

|| Alright, migraine is not being kind enough to shush but I can fully think about this new direction T8 is leading Nina in and jot down more thoughts. :

First off, I'm honestly concerned about Nina's character being done justice. At first glance her working for Kazuya is a really out of character move considering her past trauma with him, her companionship with Jin, and her subtle tendencies in leaning towards fighting for the good of the world. And an out of character move like that after the injustice done to her in the recent anime that shall not be named (and them even referencing it in Xiaoyu's trailer)... big oof. Huge clumps of salt being rubbed into a open wound. I'm swimming in salt water and there's blood attracting sharks 🫠

However, we have seen Nina work with Kazuya in the past as well, in the noncanonical Street Fighter X Tekken. — Nina worked for Kazuya and assisted him in his search for Pandora, only to turn around and betray him by revealing she was working for Jin the whole time, and was trying to get Pandora for Jin's benefit. And I firmly believe one of the only ways they can pull this off while staying true to Nina's character, is if she pulls a similar stunt as she did then.

The only other option I could think of is Nina could be working for him against her will somehow, but seeing how she behaved in her trailer? It seems unlikely. Honestly she appeared almost.. more at peace in her trailer. She even smiled more than usual. It wouldn't make sense.

But otherwise??? This move makes no sense at all. — And another thing, where is Anna? Her usual move in instances like this would be to pull the opposite of her sister in order to try and one up her. In this case, that would be assisting Yggdrasil and the rebellion somehow. Okay, fine, until you remember she's kinda responsible for Tougou's death???? That wouldn't make any sense at all either? So where is she??

Was my theory about the wedding fiasco being a set up correct? Is that part of the reason Nina's working there to begin with, to find answers so she can put her and Anna's feud to rest? Is Anna just going after her or possibly even Steve in the meantime and that's part of why Nina's willing to go to these unusual lengths? Who knows!

While secondly I love how my Queen is likely going to be part of the main plot again this time around, I will not stand for her entire character and possibly Anna's as well being altered just so they can be a plot device and possibly discarded again.

So to end things, so help me, if you fail Nina again I will go canon-divergent, Harada, Murray you watch me 😤

Final side note tho : I'm not going back and remaking Nina's icons again just to remove the zaibatsu logo. You can't make me 🙃 No but might do it for her T8 icons cause there's not too many of those, but otherwise hi I will cry. ☹️

[ceo-of-sloppy-men]

I think I’ve said it before but the chantry is LITERALLY THE SOURCE OF SO MANY FUCKING PROBLEMS.

Like I know I did a haha funny darkspawn rant a few days ago but FUCK THE CHANTRY. Let’s review:

Mage circles: literally only perpetuate the paranoia of all mages being blood mages at some point, and condoning abuse of mages by templars (and sometimes other mages)

A dishonourable mention to the giant mage prison circle

It’s almost like putting all mages in a tower together and telling them they’re horrible creatures only meant to “serve man” like weird little pieces of technology or slaves that can just be used and discarded doesn’t do anything but push mages towards blood magic, which perpetuates the whole thing

Don’t even get me started on phylacteries - which is actual blood magic being used to track down mages trying to escape their abuse

Not to mention mages aren’t allowed relationships or to have children (shoutout to that guy in Redcliffe who just wanted a family and to grow crops). Which just is terrible when you also remember most magic is genetic (one of Dorian’s lines when talking about Tevinter).

As stated by Cullen “some templars are promised to the order at birth” which only serves to perpetuate the indoctrination that mages are dangerous and bad and evil blood mages

Templars taking lyrium when it’s known to be horribly addictive and you go mad breaking said addiction only serves to keep people in the order, and when/if they leave, no one will believe them about what they’ve been through or seen because “they’re a mad Templar seeking their next lyrium hit”

Like seriously the chantry caused the biggest drug problem in all of Thedas

When a circle does collapse and templars (and mages) get traumatized, absolutely nothing is done to rehabilitate them. The trauma is not addressed despite how dangerous blood mages are stated to be, because mental health isn’t a concern to the chantry.

The stigmatism of Tevinter only perpetuated by the whole “Tevinter killed the makers bride”. I’m not saying Tevinter is good, however they are blatantly saying that the country where mages are treated like people is “bad”. (The fact it’s part of the slave trade is bad and tevinter needs reformation, however, its oddly convenient that the place with free mages is constantly used as a bad example). Not apologizing for Tevinter tho that shit sucks.

The moment there are free mages or a mage uprising the Chantry already has rumours of an exalted March. Like mages are rabid dogs to be put down.

Tranquil. “Oh this mage is too powerful because we gave them all the resources they need to become powerful and now we’re worried about them rising up and realizing that magic doesn’t need to serve man?” Let’s take away their personality, memories, magic, and everything that makes them a person and reduce them to nothing but a tool we can use to make more enchanted stuff. It doesn’t matter they’re a real person with emotions and stuff rn that won’t matter once we make it alllllll go away.

*cough cough sounds like conversion therapy cough cough*

Also, when has “violently ripping children from their parents at young ages” ever been good for the development of said child?

In short, I hate the chantry for the stigmatization it gave mages and the way it condoned abuse in circles and forced drugs down peoples throats.

It’s also 2:30am so if I’m wrong or forgetting something my apologies.

[noteguk]

Hey nala! I loved bad attitude, I can’t wait to see more of the oc teasing jk 😭

Thank you!! I really like exploring the dark side of the force that overtakes the oc every once in a blue moon. So I hope you guys like this one! (The timeline is after bad reputation, but before bad attitude) 

[ ! ] this is a drabble for bad influence. You can read it as a stand-alone. 

— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, sexting, badboy!Jungkook x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits/enemies to lovers, dirty talk, taking and sending pics (not nudes), jk’s skirt thirst, a glimpse into the chaos that lives inside the oc 

— words; 1,2k

~ 

Years of high school (and now college) excellence did wonders to disguise your impulsive side. It was a common misconception to believe that, just because you were disciplined enough to keep your grades high and your responsibilities in check, you didn’t act on dumb, random thoughts that popped up inside your head. You kind of wished it was true (it would’ve saved you a lot of drama in your personal life) but you also had to admit that you had your fun indulging in your more chaotic needs as well. 

Jungkook’s answer came quickly, but not as quickly as you had first expected. Which meant that he was either busy or distracted — past tense — and that it would be slightly more fun than you thought. 

With a smirk growing on your lips, you turned around on the bed, reaching for your phone. His answer was simple, only one word, but it was more than enough for you to realize that your machiavellian plan would be fruitful. 

jk tutoring 🚫: dont.

If years of perfecting self-restraint didn’t stop you, his half-assed warning wouldn’t. With your phone in hands, you propped yourself up on your elbows as you typed a response. 

You: Why not? 😔

As you nervously waited for his text, the picture you had previously sent him was staring you right in the face. It wasn’t anything outrageous, just a simple mirror selfie of you sitting on the edge of your bed, legs crossed and head slightly tilted to the side. It was something so innocent, so gentle and casual, that you could almost pretend that you didn’t know exactly what you were doing when you picked that skirt.

It wasn’t any revolutionary discovery to claim that Jungkook had a thing for your skirts — he had mentioned about a million times already and, even if he hadn’t, it was extremely obvious from the way he explored your body with a lot more eagerness when you wore one. What was a revolutionary discovery, however, was the piece of clothing you found hiding in the corner of your closet, something you had long discarded because Yongsun had managed to shrink it the first time she washed it. 

It was practically impossible to wear it outside, but, well, it was the perfect tool to provoke Jungkook with. Because if karma didn’t take care of him, you would. 

Finally, his messages popped up on your screen: 

jk tutoring 🚫: in a lab rn dont wanna get hard thx

jk tutoring 🚫: but it looks rlly fucjing hot 

jk tutoring 🚫: wanna see you riding me in it bby 

jk tutoring 🚫: in front of that mirror ;) 

You bit your lip, bubbles of expectation starting to pop in your stomach. Sexting Jungkook was the free trial of being a chess genius — you were always ten steps ahead, predicting his following words with almost perfect accuracy. Was it mean, perhaps a little twisted of you to be doing that while he was (miraculously) in class? Maybe. But you had a lot of things in your mind and mercy wasn’t one of them. Especially after the months of torture he had put you through. 

You: whatever you want 🥰 

You: I’m surprised you even go to class tho, that’s news 

jk tutoring 🚫: u took the day off to pester me? 

You: maybe I did

You: maybe I’m also home alone for the rest of it 

jk tutoring 🚫: dont fucking say that 

In true supervillain fashion, you had to laugh at his apparent desperation — a high-pitched, victorious laugh that seemed to come straight from your soul. Jungkook very rarely found himself in that position and you absolutely lived for it. It was one thing to provoke him in person, when he was much stronger than you and could shut you up in no time, but, through the screen, only equal rights. And equal methods of torture.

You: why? You don’t wanna come over? 

jk tutoring 🚫: u kno I do 

jk tutoring 🚫: ill ttyl

You: not later!! Now 🥺 

jk tutoring 🚫: baby this isn’t the best moment 

jk tutoring 🚫: Im already hard n im almost done here ok

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, giving the angel and the demon on your shoulders time to present their case. The collected, rational part of you told you to leave it at that: he would come over later, you had managed to provoke him enough to piss him off and get the reaction you wanted. You won. But the impulsive, evil side of you told you that you didn’t win hard enough. 

Before you could think too much about it, you took another picture, feeling blessed enough to get a good shot on your first try. Your thumbs flew over the keys, typing fast to get the message sent before Jungkook decided to put his phone away. 

You: but these are the panties that you like 😔 

Like clockwork, there was a long moment of tension between your message being viewed and those little dots appearing at the corner of your screen. Once again: you knew exactly what you were doing. And you knew that a picture taken underneath your skirt, presenting him with a full view of your red laced panties, would be the cherry on top. 

jk tutoring 🚫: I fucjing hate u

You: don’t think you do 

jk tutoring 🚫: im saving these 

jk tutoring 🚫: gonna fuck u so hard bby 

jk tutoring 🚫: not even gonna take those off 

jk tutoring 🚫: just gonna push them aside n see u coming all over my cock 

Playing like that with Jungkook was like russian roulette — only, it was only you, and all chambers were filled. You knew it would backfire, you knew that the second he walked in your room all your control would go flying out the window, and yet you pushed on. Impulsiveness was a drug for someone that rarely indulged in it, and you were too high to care about the consequences when they seemed so far away. Or, even worse, when you kind of liked them. 

That was what pushed you to write your following messages: 

You: come over now? Please? 

jk tutoring 🚫: wait like 10 min we’re wrapping up 

You: now 🥺 

You: I’m so wet kook 

You: my panties are soaked 

You: don’t you wanna come and take them off? 

You: Or maybe I can take care of myself today and I can see you another day 😔

jk tutoring 🚫: dont fucking dare

You: I bet I could come super quick too I’m so turned on 

You: I want to feel you inside me 

You: I’m so tight too I can barely put my fingers in

You: please? Come over? 

Checkmate. The forces of chaos inside you were rejoicing, every cell of your body anticipating the impact of your words. You, however, already knew you had won even before he answered you. 

jk tutoring 🚫: im coming over rn

~

check out the rest of the bad influence collection!

tag list >  @minyoongiboongi  @bvrrym0re @marcoazam2 @shojotae @youurkryptonite @fan-ati--c @btstrasht @crazy4myself @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky @imluckybitches @gyukult @jinsalpaca @we8joon @gamerkooks @study-clouds @myanswer-is-you @pb-n-juju @disaster-rose @spicybangtanwings @fairymagdalene @seagulljk @she-is-dreaming @jjktthpmj1 @pinkysunsett  @1aekooks @jkficsiliketoread @ellesalazar @wearenot7withu @codeinebelle @erraaxh @lovelyloverlia @dayjeons @illwritetomorrow @dreamsindreamss @limee7 @pixiejjk @dancing-queenf @storms-and-stars-blog @un-love @knjoobs @yopjm @pixiejjk 

[catcze]

hELLO HI- its the anon who requested the prettyboy- here i am being annoying ಡ ͜ ʖ ಡ can i pReTtY pls request again- if its okay here i go kaeya, diluc and childe(les goo) with male reader who has huge white wings ? (the reader has a good control over them and strong ?¿) im being annoying and i know- i dont know- if i have the chance to req again but-(but- lemme try my luck-) {btw love your writing♥️}

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 FEAT : 」 Kaeya, Diluc, Childe (separate) x Male Reader

「 ### : 」 Fluff !! reader has wings !! It’s implied that the reader isn’t human (adeptus/illuminated beast, maybe)

Hey again hun! 💞 and nOOO omg you're not annoying!! Feel free to request as much as you want haha, I'm just glad you like it! It might take a bit for it to be answered, but I'll always do my best to get back to you 💞 Hope you like this too!! 

⠀ 「 KAEYA 」

Tbh i genuinely think that Kaeya would adore your wings!

If you allow him to, he’ll pet them and stroke them in the way that you direct him. He’ll probably be so careful while preening your wings, too, since he doesn’t want to disappoint you or make you feel uncomfortable. 

During the spring, i can totally see him complimenting your wings on how prettier and shinier they’ve gotten.

If your wings are sensitive, causing you to shiver when he touches them at first, he would so tease you about it, the little shit. Probably every other time, too.

“Do you enjoy my touch that much, dove?” what a cocky little shit smh

When he shows you around Mondstadt. you both have a great time! However, one problem is that because of your large wingspan, it’s best that you don’t enter small shops in fear of breaking stuff due to their strength, even if you can control them well. Another problem shouldn’t be a problem but, well, is. Your wings are pretty unusual in Mondstadt, since they don’t really have non-humans or half-humans wandering around like in Liyue. as such, many people are so interested in your big white wings,.

Basically, people have the tendency to crowd you and ask to touch your wings, which is typically a no-go from randos since it can mess up the feather alignment.

So Kaeya typically sticks with you as if he were your personal bodyguard! It’s super sweet. He makes jokes about it too, sometimes joking about how you could form a boyband if you managed to rope Diluc and maybe one of your male friends from Liyue into the gig. 

Aside from being attention grabbing and ruckus-causing, big wings can also be troublesome when it comes to finding clothes! You typically stick with backless options, sometimes racerbacks, and usually without a neckline (unless it has buttons or velcro) for ease of putting on and taking off.

That means you can’t really swap clothes with Kaeya tho, since he doesn’t strike me as a guy with too many backless tops. He does buy some eventually! Just for you to steal haha.

Speaking of clothes, since he has that feather boa thing around his neck, i can totally see him asking you for some of your discarded or molting feathers to weave into there, just to have a piece of you with him!

⠀ 「 DILUC 」

He’d be cautious around them! He probably hasn’t seen many winged humanoids, so he kind of has to get used to seeing you. He’d probably be aware of not sneaking up on your from behind, since those white things are huge, and he doesn’t want to risk getting knocked back if he surprises you. 

He doesn’t mind you sitting in the Angel’s Share, since it’s kind of fitting for you to be there, what with your wings and all. In a way, you sort of became the mascot for the place. 

This results in some problems, though, like when some of the more drunk patrons proposition you and call you a ‘pretty boy angel.’ It’s not something that requires any direct action aside from ignoring them, but once in a blue moon a rather aggressive drunk would be too forward or pushy with their advances. It’s still no problem though–– not when you can just send a gust of wind their way to spill their drink and topple them to the ground with a flick of your wing.

Diluc would probably send for a tailor to custom-make some clothing for you that is easy for you to put on and is comfortable for your wings. He’d ask that the fabric your clothing would be made out of is light and aerodynamic, too, for your ease of flying.

If you ask him, he’ll give you a room in the winery to do as you please-– so you can make a huge nest if you want! Diluc will even get you as many blankets and pillows as you need. Sometimes he’ll even join you–– It much comfier than he expected.

You’re sometimes the big spoon, but usually you prefer to lay on your front and sort of drape your arm around him, since you don’t want to cramp your wings.

If work is slow at the winery and the tavern, sometimes Diluc will go flying with you. Well, to him it’s more ‘gliding’, really, since he glides and you can flap your wings. But it’s still loads of fun! With your masterful control, you’d dart around his form in midair and sometimes create updrafts for him so that he can stay in the air for you just a little while longer.

I can see him being hesitant in letting you carry him though, even if he does trust you.

If the two of your get caught in the rain, you’ll extend one of your wings to cover Diluc from getting wet!! Sometimes this ends with a sweet rainy kiss, other times Diluc worries you might strain the muscles in your wings, even though he should know better.

⠀ 「 CHILDE 」

Honestly? Super excited and 100% wants to fight you.

Of the three, he’s probably the least caught off-guard that you have large white wings. After all, he’s aware of Ganyu the half-adeptus and her quilin horns, and he’s aware of the part illuminated beast Yenfei and her horns due to the research of the Fatui. He probably heard of you and your white wings before he even met you due to his information network.

He’d compliment your wings, compliment how meticulously clean they are and how strong they look, he’ll probs compliment how strong the guy they’re attached to looks too. Flirty little gremlin.

He’s aware of how big wings can be inconvenient indoors, so for date night, he’ll sometimes rent out whole sections of restaurants with high ceilings to have dinner in, just so that you can stretch your wings without inconveniencing anyone.

Childe will undoubtedly drop heavy hints that he wants to spar with you, and he wants to fight you while you use your wings, too. When you finally agree, he’s over the moon.

It sounds kinda morbid, but during your fight, he sort of tests his prowess with a bow against you when you take to the skies. He’s positive he can hit you at least one or twice, but he find it so hot when you easily dodge all his arrows, knock a couple out of the sky, and even casually catch one or two.

At one point, if you pin him down and use your weight and muscle mass + the weight of your wings to hold him down? He’s really into that.

Like Diluc, he’d probably go gliding / flying with you if he has freetime. unlike Diluc, if you guys go flying after he’s fought you and seen how nimble and how much control you have in the air, he’ll absolutely pester you until you carry him.

It’s an adrenaline rush for him to be in your arms and to be flying like this! It’s this experience that really shows him the difference between flying and gliding.

If you ever do that thing where you tuck in your wings and go into a free-dive to the ground, Childe would probably scream-laugh, though it turns more into an adrenalized whoop when you extend your wings mere seconds before you two are pancakes.

He probably loved the adrenaline rush of that too, and practically demands that you carry him like that again. 

Another one who has custom clothing made for your comfort and for practicality! I said it before, but Childe is a literal sugar daddy who will get you anything. Be it oil for your wings, a new backless top, or even specific sheets for your added comfort, it’s all on the table. 

[smells-like-mettaton]

thick fog and papyrus? srsly tho what is up with his battle room lmao

Worth Fighting For

Rating: G Word Count: 1535 Read on AO3: here

---

“Are you sure you want to do this, brother?” Papyrus asked, even though he knew what the answer would be. Sans was the most stubborn monster Papyrus knew.

Sans would probably say the same about him. Their collective stubbornness led to month-long face offs over a discarded sock. Or to Papyrus cooking spaghetti three times a day, waiting for Sans to crack and tell him what was wrong with it.

Or to them standing at the edge of town, shrouded in thick fog.

“I’m sure.” Sans’s voice felt almost muffled by the mist.

That was part of the point. Anyone could train when they could hear and see their opponent. It would take a skilled fighter to battle under these conditions.

And Sans wanted to be skilled. Papyrus could hardly deny him that, after all the time he’d begged to train under Undyne.

“Right.” Papyrus gave a sharp nod, though Sans probably couldn’t see it. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you, br—”

A bone collided with his exposed spine. He yelped, though it was more from surprise than pain.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Through a gap in the fog, Papyrus caught his brother winking.

“Sans! That move is unsportsmanlike!” Papyrus rubbed his vertebrae. Of course, Sans could hardly injure him. Each of his attacks only shaved off one point of damage.

“Good thing fighting’s not a sport, huh?”

“Fighting is more than a sport! It is a way to express the hopes and dreams of your soul!!”

Sans sighed, disturbing the fog enough for Papyrus to see him again.

“Look, bro. I just want to be able to keep myself from getting dusted. I’ll save the dreams for when I’m sleeping.”

Papyrus’s brow pinched. Listening to Sans talk, you would think he never wanted to fight. But he did. Papyrus could see it in the darkness of his eyesockets, in the way his jaw set whenever something upset him.

Something had made Sans angry. Maybe even… frightened. None of Papyrus’s attempts to draw the truth from him succeeded, however.

Papyrus wanted to help Sans channel that anger into something more productive. Fighting could be productive! It could bring monsters together in ways nothing else could! But… not the way Sans went about it.

Maybe Papyrus just needed to show him.

A row of bones—carefully calibrated not to do damage—sprouted from the ground towards Sans. Papyrus couldn’t see him dodge, but he didn’t hear the telltale crack of bone on bone.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t go easy on me.”

A beam of light shot through the fog, and Papyrus sidestepped, his boots crunching in the thick snow. Several more beams followed it, but the pattern was easy to predict. The few times when Papyrus failed to dodge, the lasers barely tickled.

A muttered curse came from his left. Papyrus turned towards it, but didn’t ready another attack.

“Starting with your strongest attack is—”

“Bad sportsmanship?” Sans snapped.

“No. It’s just bad strategy.” Papyrus approached the sound of his voice. He bumped into a few of Sans’s blasters on the way and gave each of them a quick pet. “It’s safer to let your opponent underestimate you. Once you have them lulled into a false sense of security, you can secure your victory!”

“I don’t have time for that kind of strategy!” Sans sounded even angrier than Papyrus had expected. Maybe Papyrus was the one doing the underestimating. “I’m not like you! I don’t have hundreds of HP to spare! I’ve got one shot, and if I can’t—if I can’t win, then I’m…”

Papyrus’s eyesockets widened at Sans’s muffled sob.

“Oh, Sans.” He knelt down by his brother, feeling him rather than seeing him. He wrapped him in the tightest hug he could. Sans slumped in his arms, like all the fight had gone out of him.

“No one is going to hurt you. I promise,” Papyrus murmured. “I’ll protect you, brother.”

Sans tensed, and the moment shattered.

“You shouldn’t have to.” Sans pushed him back. His eyesockets had gone pitch black, two empty holes in the sea of white. “I’m—I was always supposed to take care of you, and I can’t—if I can’t stop the…”

Papyrus didn’t know what he was talking about, but expecting answers from Sans was like expecting Undyne to go a month without burning down her house. It wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, ignoring the hurt that Sans’s shove had caused. Hurt that went deeper than any bone attack or laser.

Perhaps he deserved it. Even if he didn’t know everything, he knew he had messed up.

“You’re right,” Papyrus admitted, making Sans’s head tilt in confusion. “I want you to be strong and great, too! In fact, you're already very strong and great! But we’re safe here, brother. Undyne and the Royal Guard will protect us when a human comes.”

He didn’t bother saying that he would be joining the Royal Guard. It was a matter of when at this point, surely. But the thought wouldn’t comfort Sans at the moment.

“‘M not worried about humans,” he muttered.

“Then… what are you worried about?”

Silence. Like the fog had stolen away even the slight sound of Sans’s rattling bones.

“...Doesn’t matter.” Sans’s eyesockets closed. “Forget it.”

For once, Papyrus decided to face his brother head-on. The way Undyne would.

“I cannot just forget something that is bothering you, brother.”

“Heh. We already have, though. Over and over and over again…”

“Then this time, we should help each other remember!” Papyrus reached out and felt for Sans’s shoulder, then gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Nah. Too much effort.”

Papyrus felt Sans shrug. Annoyance bubbled up in him, but he forced himself to let it go. He should’ve known better than to expect Sans to face his problems head-on. He wasn’t Undyne.

Papyrus blinked. “You’re not Undyne.”

Sans’s sockets cracked open in a confused squint. “Uh, yeah? Did I hit you too hard earlier?”

“No!” He shook his head quickly. “I mean! You don’t have the stats that Undyne and I do!”

“You don’t gotta rub it in.”

“Ugh, brother!” Papyrus sprung to his feet, his hands on his hips. “I’m trying to say, we need to train you differently! I’ve been doing this all wrong!”

“Nah, I’ve just been making it hard on you.” Sans sounded guilty. “Sorry. I’m not a real good student.”

“False! I simply need to recalibrate your curriculum! Nyeh heh heh!!”

A short time later, they again faced off in the dense fog. But this time, Papyrus encouraged Sans to use every underhanded trick in his arsenal.

“Don’t forget your shortcuts!” Papyrus called into the white void as he hurled another wave of bones.

“No good,” Sans huffed, presumably while dodging. “Can’t use ‘em... while anyone’s looking. Magic’s weird... like that.”

“Well, I cannot look with all this fog in the way! And whoever has a bone to pick with you will surely blink at one point or another!”

“...Alright, I’ll give it a shot.”

And he did. Lasers blasted at Papyrus again. Blue attacks mixed with regular attacks mixed blue soul magic mixed with strange platforms that Papyrus discovered he could jump on without being harmed.

Until the platforms slid out from under him, dropping him into a spike-trap of bone attacks.

“Clever!” Papyrus called out, escaping with a blue magic-assisted leap. With that many attacks at once, his HP had actually taken a dent. “I bet you could create a maze with those! Any enemy would surely be confounded, then blasted to their senses!”

“Huh, that’s not a bad idea…”

Eventually Papyrus announced the end of the training session. He may have an abundance of HP, but Sans had kept him on his toes during the entire sparring match. There had been no time to sneak a bite of his cinnamon bun.

“So how’d I do? Think I’ll be joining you in the Guard any time soon?” Sans winked as they strode out of the fog.

“You want to join the Guard too?” Papyrus beamed until Sans looked away awkwardly.

“Nah, that was just a dumb joke. I’ve got enough to look out for with bein’ a sentry.”

Papyrus’s eyes narrowed. That was a pun, but at least it was of better quality than usual.

“Very well! It’s important to know your limits! If only so you can more effectively push them! Nyeh heh heh!” He clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “And you certainly did so today! I’m very proud of you, brother.”

Sans’s head snapped up, his eyelights glowing brighter than Papyrus had seen in ages. He quickly schooled his expression into something less expressive, though.

“Geez, bro, all this sweet talk’s gonna go to my head.” He rapped on the side of his skull.

“Good! You need something to fill up all that empty space!”

Sans laughed out loud at that. “Thanks.”

Papyrus knew he wasn’t being thanked for the joke. Still, he played along.

“Of course! That’s what brothers are for!”

As long as Papyrus was around, Sans would never have to fight. But if Sans could feel more confident in himself…

That was something worth fighting for.

[chillassimagines]

Play With Me - Richard Camacho Smut Part 1

(someone come spray my ass w anti smut water bc that’s all I write anymore! not requested tho)

[richard has been a bit busy since he’s released his new EP with CNCO, and you aren’t having it]

“Si...si, julio hasta deciembre, porque tenemos ‘Jingle Ball’.” Richard was on a conference call with his band mates and their management team in your living room. You had just barely gotten done having breakfast with him before he was stolen away by the touring schedule.

“Porque ‘Jingle Ball’ es màs importante que mi novia.” You muttered for yourself as you finished clearing the table. You decided to save the dishes for later, maybe have Richard do them, because you were not in the mood. You went to the living room and sat on the sofa adjacent to the one he sat on. You stole a glance at him and he was staring intently at you while listening. Shit, did he hear you?

And as if he could read your mind, he arched a menacing eyebrow at you, as if you should watch it. You felt very caught and quickly pulled out your phone to avoid his ticked off faces. You were scrolling on your Instagram feed to find a very good thirst trap photo, posted by none other than Richard Camacho. It must have been taken yesterday, because he was taking a day off from the gym today. The photo was of him peeling up his tank top to reveal his sweaty and delicious abs, accompanied by his v-line.

In that moment you so badly wanted to jump his bones. You loved Richard’s body, of course, but you loved his confidence, his machismo, but most importantly his heart. The way he cared for his daughter, the way he treated you as if you were a queen, maybe not so much lately, but before this EP, whew. Around his time at the studio, with Aaliyah, and the gym; he would schedule date nights for you both to make sure you both had time with each other. The night of he would come home with a new Cartier bracelet, or a new dress, and or if he felt really good, a new lingerie set.

Richard knew he didn’t need to buy your love, because he already had it tucked in his back pocket. He just wanted to spoil you endlessly, because if it wasn’t on himself, or Miss Sofia, there was nowhere for it to go. You smiled to yourself as the next picture on your feed was of Aaliyah Sofia Camacho. You had met the beautiful girl a few times while she was in Richard’s care, and she made your baby fever spike exponentially. However, you knew Richard needed to focus on his career, because it’s what he was destined to do.

Essentially, he had already had a second child, you. You needed the same love and attention that a baby needed, maybe even more. You scrolled back up after liking the photo and stared at your sexy man.

“Yo se, yo se. Puedo salir a...diez en la mañana? Bien. Adios, team.” You didn’t want to look up, because if you did you would want to jump on him, but he probably wouldn’t feel the same way. A few moments passed before you heard him get off of the sofa and exit the living room, heading towards your bedroom. Okay, what the fuck?

You expected him to maybe say something about what you said. Or just say anything?! You stood up, discarding your phone and went down the same hallway he traveled to.

“More than my girlfriend, aye?” There he was, leaned up against the wall, waiting for you. And you fell for his trap.

“Rich, I was mad. I am mad! I’m beyond frustrated!” He stayed silent and raised both of his brows at you. You waited for a response, but he only stared. “I know it’s only the month of-of-”

“May.” He answered calmly.

“Yes, May. July isn’t that far around the corner for a tour that goes for half the year! Also, practicing, promotion for the music, interview shows, performances, and the gym! The freaking gym! The place where you offer your appearance to more women than I can even count, and hear I am, knowing that this man is in my hands, but he’s on a goddamn screen! We’ll fuck, what? 5 times if we’re lucky, between now and July?! I fucking miss you too much to be able to go through that! And the FaceTimes, Skypes, and texts? Those are rare, as we know, and I can’t take not knowing when we’ll be this close again. I’m standing two feet away from you, Rich!”

You pointed to the blank space between you two and Richard only kept staring at you.

“Say something?” You asked softly, tired of ranting. He closed the distance between you two and took your hands in his.

“L, is for the way you look, at me,” He began singing softly. You were immediately confused. “O, is for the only one, I see,” He began swaying and swinging your hands together back and forth. “V, is very very, extraordinary, sing it with me now,” The smile on his face was bright as you rolled your eyes.

“E, is even more than anyone that you adore.” You sang lamely with his gorgeous tone. He stopped swaying and pressed his forehead to yours.

“Love is all that I can give...to you.” He ended his serenation with a beautiful run, which made you giggle, because he knew he was extra. Last year, Richard had taken you to New York for Christmas Eve, a lovely getaway before he would bring Aaliyah with you both back to his family’s for Christmas Day. As you headed to your hotel room that night, this song played in the elevator, and he declared it to be your guys’ song. You both sang it all the way to the room, even after leaving the elevator.

“Why do I love you this much?” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Richard released your hands and they wrapped around your waist.

“Because I care about you more than Jingle Ball, touring, and many other things on your list of my so called, priorities. You just need a little extra TLC from time to time...no?” His hands drifted down to your bottom and squeezed. Rich was always an ass man. He tucked his head into your neck and began kissing you tenderly.

“Yes...Richard?” You asked softly, not wanting your intimacy to end. He hummed against your neck in acknowledgment as he sucked on your skin. “Please, play with me.” You begged clutching onto his shoulder blades as he bit you softly.

“After I tease you for what you said? Gladly.” He quickly picked you up and hooked your legs around his waist to carry you towards your bedroom.

“I was only joking, papito!” You groaned as he plopped you on the bed.

“Y ahora tú sabes que no tú puedes hacerlo nunca más. Take that shirt off.”

(My current second major is Spanish so don’t hate on my Spanish so far, I try! ❤️❤️❤️)

[flowercrown-bard]

Hey there! You mentioned in the tags of the pining post that you wanted to write a lil som-n som-n~~ Prompt of Jaskier and Geralt, number 36? (If you want of course!)

36: Characters are tied together/shackled/forced to share a small space for a long period of time

I absolutely want to write that! Thank you so much for the prompt!

Ah, so this somehow got less pining-y and more angsty? Like, seriously angsty. As in, almost mcd angsty. I hope that’s okay tho

Word count: ~7k

Note: I will post this (and the other prompted fics) on AO3 once I have time to do some editing. But that’s going to take a couple of days

Summary: Jaskier wakes up tied back to back with Geralt. That wouldn’t be so bad. It happened before. But this is the time there is no hope of escape. And they’re running out of time before the vampire who is out for blood them will come back.

Content warning: injury, blood (both explicitly described), heavy angst, gruesomeness (no major character death)

"Jaskier?"

The voice came to him as if through a thick fog. His head was buzzing and it felt like tiny hammers were pounding against his temples from the inside. Simultaneously, the voice coming from somewhere behind him, urgent and almost afraid was too loud.

Jaskier tried to lean away, to put distance between himself and the voice, but all that did was send a strain through his chest, where something – a thin rope that kept him sitting upright? Binding him to something behind him? – cut into him with the movement, tight enough that it was hard to breathe.

"Jaskier! Are you awake?"

That voice was familiar. It was safe. Geralt. Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut tightly and shook his head, trying desperately to get that fog in his mind to go away.

" 'm fine," he groaned and blinked against the dark splotches in front of him until they slowly receded. Not that that did him much good. He didn’t recognise the room they were in. The fancy furniture certainly didn’t belong to a room at an inn. The bed that stood at the wall was lavish and fit for a lord. Jaskier was rather certain that he would remember such a bed if he had seen it before. "On second thought, I might be having a problem."

Geralt huffed out a humourless laugh. "No shit." He sounded strained. As if he was trying his best and still failing miserable to keep fear out of his voice. Why was Geralt afraid? Geralt was never afraid.

Jaskier tried to move again, to turn to Geralt, but once again the ropes prevented him.

“Stop moving,” Geralt growled and only now did Jaskier recognise what he was leaning against. He was sitting – or rather bound– back to back with Geralt. “You’ll only hurt yourself.”

Jaskier pressed his lips together tightly in frustration and looked down on himself. Sure enough, the ropes didn’t seem as if they would come loose by him wiggling around. He furrowed his brows when he saw something dark and crusty on his doublet. He had seen something like this too often to mistake it for anything else. It was dried blood. His blood.

His stomach churned and he had to suck in a deep breath to stop the bile from rising. It was a shame too. He had loved this deep blue doublet. Which was mostly because even Geralt had seemed to like it. The image of Jaskier presenting two doublets to him and Geralt telling him with a strangely fond look that the blue one fit his eyes would forever be seared into his mind. He could smell on himself that he had donned his favourite perfume – his favourite because it was the one Geralt had complimented once – thinking that maybe just this one time Geralt would notice him in the way he wanted to be noticed. As something more than just the bard that followed him like a stupidly loyal puppy. He remembered how excited he had gotten after that, knowing that Geralt would think he looked pretty when they got to the ball.

Wait.

The ball?

He squinted and searched the room again. It was true, the fancy decoration did look like it would belong to people rich enough to throw a ball. But that didn’t explain why Jaskier and Geralt were tied together and apparently left to rot in a different room from the jovialities. It also didn’t explain why Geralt had even gone to a ball without complaining in the first place.

Jaskier swallowed thickly. He opened his mouth but closed it again fruitlessly, when too many questions stormed his mind – far too many to decide with which one to begin.

In the ensuing silence, muffled laughter reached him through the walls. Laughter and music.

Strangely enough, the thought that shot through Jaskier at the sound was That should have been me.

And that had been Jaskier, he was sure of it. As he listened to the music rise and fall as if accompanying a complicated dance, his fingers twitched as if finding the chords to the sing without having the lute in hand.

There was no doubt in his mind. He knew and had played this song. He could almost see it: The ballroom full of dancing couples, admiring looks and the feeling that maybe later when Jaskier could excuse himself for a while, he would be able to gather the courage to ask Geralt for a dance.

But Geralt’s golden eyes hadn’t been part of the crowd of people watching him in admiration. A sinking disappointment came back, more memory than real emotion. He felt his heart drop as he remembered Geralt turning away and leaving him almost as soon as they had entered the ball room. The last glimpse Jaskier had caught of him had been his face set in a deep scowl and his shoulders had been tense.

And suddenly Jaskier knew which question was the most important one.

“Did you come back for me?”

“Jaskier-“ Geralt sounded strangely strangled.

“Did you? Or are you here with me now because you were forced to be with me? Is it somehow my fault again that we are in danger?”

Geralt remained quiet for a long time. Jaskier was almost certain that he would remain silent, when he felt Geralt shift behind him.

“I did come for you. Just not in time. I – I’m sorry, Jaskier.”

His voice was almost broken and Jaskier was sure that if he had been able to look him in the eye, Geralt would have averted his gaze. Bound as they were, Jaskier could do nothing but press his back closer against Geralt, by however little that was possible and pray that the feeling of Jaskier’s heartbeat against Geralt was enough to remind him that Jaskier was still alive – they both were – and Jaskier didn’t blame him.

Now that he thought of it, Jaskier remembered distinctly how he had seen a head of white hair weaving its way through the crowd towards him.

For a moment his head sped up, before he remembered the eyes of the person that had come towards them. They hadn’t been the honey-gold he had hoped for.

But they had been unusual enough to make it impossible for Jaskier to look away. To make him think that for a little while he could pretend. And those eyes had looked at him almost hungrily. It had sent a shiver down Jaskier’s spine. He had relished in the attention and obvious interest.

It hadn’t been what – who – he had wanted. But it had been the closest thing he would ever get.

When finally the time had come for Jaskier to take his break, he hadn’t searched for Geralt to ask him for a dance after all.

He didn’t remember if he had been the one to approach the alluring white-haired stranger first of if he had been the one to be approached. It didn’t matter. He clearly recalled following the man willingly – no. That wasn’t quite the right word. Will had had nothing to do with it. He had wanted it, certainly, but thinking back on it now, Jaskier didn’t think he would have been able to leave this man, no matter how strong his will.

But who was he kidding? He wouldn’t have tried to leave anyway. Not when he had looked at Jaskier in the way he had longed for. Not when he had looked so much like the man he wanted to look at him in that way.

He remembered wanting whatever the stranger was willing to give him.

And then he remembered screaming. For Geralt. But not in pleasure. No, that had been the farthest thing from his mind. He had screamed and whimpered and begged in agony. A sudden, sharp, searing pain in his neck.

Now, that pain was little more than an irritated throbbing over his pulse-point.

He didn’t even notice that he let out a soft whimper as the memories of the stinging in his neck came back to him, but he felt Geralt tense and twist as if that he would be able to look at him.

“Jaskier?” Geralt grunted in frustration and flexed as if that could loosen the ropes. It must hurt him. The ropes must cut into him just as much as they did into Jaskier. And yet he didn’t stop, as if in this moment nothing was as important to Geralt than being able to see him. “Jaskier, what is wrong?”

Jaskier let out a dry laugh. “Do you want a list?”

There were too many things that were wrong, Jaskier was sure he didn’t even recall all of them, but at the very least he was here with Geralt.

He didn’t know if that made it better or worse. He didn’t want to be alone. Whatever was going on, Geralt’s presence at his back, his touch although involuntary, made it so much more bearable. But Geralt evidently wasn’t able to escape the bindings. He too was forced to sit on the cold floor and wait for whatever was about to happen. Maybe nothing would happen at all. Maybe they were to stay here until they died of thirst, forgotten by whoever had discarded them in this room.

It was simultaneously the worst and best thing, having Geralt here with him.

Geralt, who was still struggling to turn towards Jaskier.

And he wanted it too. More than anything did he want to be able to touch Geralt, to cup his cheek as he reassured him that he was alright. He wanted to see Geralt’s eyes.

He turned his head and sucked in a sharp breath. The wound on his neck had opened up again at the movement and Jaskier could feel a drop of warm blood trickle down his throat.

Geralt’s movements became even more urgent. It was only when they became harsh enough to jostle Jaskier about and making him cry out, that Geralt became deathly still, as if afraid to move even a single muscle.

“Don’t move, Jaskier. Don’t – I can’t risk you losing any more blood.”

“Don’t you mean I can’t risk it?” Jaskier teased, though his stomach twisted into knots at Geralt’s slip of the tongue.

Geralt remained silent for a long while. His reply was but a breath, so quiet that Jaskier wasn’t even sure if he had really heard it or if it was just his panicking mind hearing what it wanted.

“I can’t lose you, Jask.”

Jaskier’s breath got stuck in his throat. He wanted to say so many things. He wanted to reassure Geralt that he wouldn’t lose him, that he would stay with him till the end – which might be nearer than he had imagined. He wanted to ask him what he had meant. He wanted to beg him to tell him that it meant more than just Geralt feeling guilty for Jaskier’s injury.

But no words left his lips. Instead he complied and stilled. He rested his head back against Geralt’s, relished in that contact as if it was something more intimate. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that the way their bodies were pressed together was because Geralt wanted it and not because they had no other choice than to stay like this.

Geralt didn’t move his head away. If anything, it almost seemed as if he was leaning into the contact as well.

It was most likely just wishful thinking, but it was comforting nonetheless.

Jaskier wished he too could hear Geralt’s heartbeat. As it were, he barely could hear his breathing. He knew it was there, but his own ragged breath and his own racing heart was too loud in his ears.

Geralt’s touch wasn’t enough. For years it had been what Jaskier had craved. Every evening, he had wished to be brave enough to breach the gap between their bodies as they shared a bed and press himself against Geralt. Every time Geralt was hurt by monsters or words, Jaskier had to remind himself not to let his comforting embraces linger and turn them into something unwanted. He had dreamed about Geralt not shying away from his touch.

Yet now that he had nothing but his touch, it was too little. His chest was aching with the need to see him; the small crease between his brows as he frowned, the slight upturn of his lips when Jaskier said something that Geralt wouldn’t admit out loud he found funny, the way his eyes would sometimes soften when their gazes met while Jaskier played slow songs by the camp fire.

He needed to see him and yet he couldn’t.

Jaskier had learned to love Geralt’s silences. There was a grace in his ability to move unheard and a beauty in the way he only spoke when he felt comfortable enough to do so. Jaskier had relished in the trust Geralt would show when he opened up and let Jaskier in.

But now he wasn’t comfortable and Jaskier had nothing. Nothing but his touch that was burning him and still could never be enough. He needed more, more proof that Geralt was still here, that Jaskier wasn’t alone in this, that Geralt was alright. He needed to hear him. Be it a rustling of his clothes or one of his grunts.

Jaskier’s tongue darted out as his mind raced, trying to come up with something that would get Geralt to talk.

“You know,” he began slowly. “I am surprised that I even have any blood in me at all. That man…he was a vampire, wasn’t he?”

Geralt grunted in affirmation. Jaskier’s heart skipped at the beat and he held his breath, praying for something more.

Through some miracle, his wish was granted. But when Geralt spoke up again, his words were harsh and angry.

“Congrats on figuring it out,” he almost spat. “After you already let yourself be lured away by him. I told you to stay with the crowd. I told you not to follow me while I searched for the vampire.”

“I didn’t follow you,” Jaskier threw in meekly.

It evidently was the wrong thing to say, for Geralt let out a frustrated grunt.

“No you didn’t. Instead you followed the vampire. Why? Is it really so easy for everyone else to make you want them?” The angry words contradicted his earlier apologetic whispers, though the frustration in his voice stayed the same. Somehow Jaskier didn’t think it was directed towards him. “How could you not notice his eyes? They were gleaming as it got darker. He looked like a freak, he- “ Geralt’s voice broke off.

“He looked like you.” The words slipped past Jaskier’s lips before he had time to realise what they implied.

Behind him, Geralt froze. Jaskier could feel his muscles tense against his back and he knew if Geralt had been able to, he would have put distance between them.

“No, Geralt, that’s not – you know that’s not what I meant. You aren’t a freak. You are my friend. And I –“

“And you are in danger because of me.” He let out a frustrated grunt.

Jaskier huffed. “Really, Geralt? Are we doing this now?”

“Might not get any other chances.” Geralt sounded grim, all fight leaving him. “They are going to come back and finish what they started. And I can’t protect you. I couldn’t before and I sure as hell can’t now.”

“But you did protect me, didn’t you?”

Jaskier’s insides were cold and he knew Geralt must sense his quickly rising fear. Years ago, Jaskier would have said that Geralt was just being dramatic. That there was no way he wouldn’t be able to get them out of this situation alive. But a lot had happened since then. Too many times had Jaskier seen Geralt lying in a puddle of his own blood and on the brink of death. If Geralt said that they would die today…Jaskier trusted him. He trusted Geralt’s skill with a sword. But he also trusted his words.

At least they would be going together.

He closed his eyes, focussing fully on the feeling of Geralt leaning against him. He turned his head, not enough to tear the wound open once more, but just enough that Geralt would be able to feel the motion, that he would know that Jaskier wanted to look at him.

“I’m not dead.” Jaskier forced a cheer that he didn’t feel into his voice. The least he could do was make sure that Geralt wasn’t eaten up by guilt about this. Whichever way this ended, it wasn’t Geralt’s fault. “Granted, this situation isn’t ideal, but I am still alive and able to talk your ear off. So obviously you must have saved me.”

“I didn’t,” came Geralt’s harsh reply, almost like a bark. “I couldn’t. You are not safe.”

If Jaskier had been able to move, he would have put his hands on his hips. If Geralt had been able to see his expression, he would have made a grimace that made it clear what exactly Jaskier thought about Geralt’s self-deprecation

But he couldn’t. So he settled on putting as much challenge into his voice as he could.

“Oh yeah? Then why did the vampire leave? Because I very much remember being sucked dry by one – and not in the fun kind of way.”

Geralt let out an unamused laugh. “He said he left because your perfume was too bad.”

Jaskier really wished he could see Geralt’s face right now. He wished he could see his smile, even though he knew it wouldn’t be there. In any other situation, Geralt would wear a grin as he teased Jaskier about his perfume. Now though, Jaskier was almost certain that he scowled even as he told the joke.

Jaskier’s fingers itched to smooth out the crease of worry that was no doubt etched onto Geralt’s face.

“Oh haha, very funny,” he said instead, trying to put as much teasing into his voice as possible, a vain attempt to get Geralt to smile even now. “Come on. If this is as dramatic a situation as you believe, you could at least humour me. One last story to tell me. So, why am I not dead?”

“Because this vampire is a sick bastard,” Geralt bit out. “Likes to play with his prey.”

“Play?” Jaskier’s voice was squeakier than he would ever admit should anyone ask. If he even lived to tell the tale, that was.

Geralt hummed. “He likes his prey to be awake. So he can hear the screams and pleas.”

A bead of sweat trickled down the back of Jaskier’s neck and he did all he could not to shiver at Geralt’s words.

“Alright,” he said, chipped. “So that explains why I’m alive. But what about you? Why didn’t he kill you? Not that I’m not very grateful that you’re alive, of course.”

Geralt hesitated and Jaskier could practically hear him think. When Geralt finally answered, his words sounded almost like a confession.

“Like I said.” Geralt squirmed; another useless attempt to free himself. “They want to see their prey desperate and begging.”

A snort escaped Jaskier that quickly turned into laughter. It was fuelled by panic and was bordering on hysteric, but it felt freeing to laugh nonetheless. Geralt didn’t join in.

“Why on earth would you beg? Remember Dol Blathanna? This is just like it was back then. It ends the same way it began. It’s almost-“

“If you say poetic, I will beg that vampire to kill me first just so that I don’t have to listen to you talk about making this into a song.”

“You wound me, Geralt. But this is exactly what I am talking about. Back then, you practically did the opposite of begging, what with your whole noble sacrifice act.” When Geralt didn’t reply, Jaskier tried to nudge him with his elbow. It didn’t work. “Come on, Geralt. Even you must admit that it’s hilarious that this vampire really thinks you would beg for anything.”

Geralt remained stoically quiet. There was a strange tension in his silence that froze Jaskier’s grin and made his chest squeeze painfully.

“Geralt –“ he began, but was interrupted by the doors flying open.

Without thinking, he turned his head to see what was happening. It stung and he pressed his lips into a thin line, but he barely registered the pain. There was no space for such a trivial thing when cold terror filled him instead at the sight of the white haired man striding into the room with an air of complete confidence.

Though man was hardly a fitting description anymore. Where he had possessed an almost ethereal beauty before, he was now grotesque. The hunger in his eyes had turned into starvation. His smile that had been charming before was too wide and filled with too many teeth. His fingers were more reminiscent of claws than human hands.

Everything about him screamed predator. Death.

He walked towards them in graceful, measured steps as if he had all the time in the world. He moved with the superiority that only came from nobility or a hunter that knew his prey was lying helplessly by his feet with no hope for escape.

A low growl rose in Geralt’s chest and Jaskier could feel the rumble in his back. It did nothing to soothe him.

They all knew that this was it.

Jaskier was staring death in the eyes when his entire being longed to see another pair of eyes instead. Maybe that was the worst part. Jaskier had never put much thought into his own death. But he had always hoped that in his last moments he would be able to look into Geralt’s eyes, maybe even see some hint of affection in them.

Now, he had not even this.

“Geralt,” he whispered. From the way the vampire’s eyes lit up in delight, it had been a pitiful attempt at keeping his desperation hidden from him. It wasn’t important. All that mattered was that Geralt heard him.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt answered, equally quiet, a bittersweet pretence that their would-be murderer didn’t hear every word. “I’m sorry, Jask.”

“I’m not.” Jaskier’s heart was pounding in terror and his palms were damp with sweat, but of this, he was certain. “I’m not sorry that I am here with you. I would follow you everywhere.”

Geralt didn’t answer, but he twisted in their restraints until Jaskier could feel callused fingers touch his hands. The ankle was uncomfortable, but Jaskier clutched Geralt’s hand with all his mind. Geralt gave him a light squeeze that said more than any amount of words could.

For an insane yet peaceful moment, Jaskier thought that maybe this wasn’t so bad. There were worse things than dying with Geralt holding his hand.

“How adorable,” the vampire drawled as he took in their linked fingers with a mocking half-smile. “You two are disgustingly sweet. It’s almost ruining my appetite. Do you have any sappy last words too?”

Jaskier did. There were things he had never told Geralt, that he needed him to know. But he would rather die silent than let this vampire witness him baring his soul.

Instead he ran a thumb clumsily over Geralt’s knuckles, praying that he understood everything that Jaskier didn’t dare put into words.

“No?” The vampire looked almost disappointed. “I would have expected more from you, bard.”

“What can I say?” Jaskier gave him a falsely sweet smile. “I live to disappoint. And I can’t say you weren’t disappointing either.”

The vampire’s face twisted into something ugly and within the blink of an eye he had crossed the room. Jaskier flinched back as the vampire crouched down before him and caressed his face with a mockery of tenderness.

“Oh, quite the contrary, my dear Jaskier,” he said, honey in his voice but his eyes filled with ice. “You could never disappoint. Not when you beg so beautifully.” His fingers left Jaskier’s cheek to trail down to his neck, as softly as a lover would. A whimper escaped Jaskier when the vampire’s fingers caressed the wound his teeth had torn into him before. The vampire looked at it almost in admiration. “Do you remember how you screamed? How you begged your witcher to come save you?” He got closer, until his too sharp teeth were right next to Jaskier’s ears. “I want to hear you scream again.”

Teeth sank into his flesh, tearing him open. Obscene slurping noises and moans filled the air as the vampire drank Jaskier’s blood.

It was an utterly inappropriate thought, but somewhere in the back of his mind, Jaskier remembered the romance novels he had read when he was younger, about how sensual it felt to have a vampire drink from someone. About how they had special venom that numbed the pain.

What a load of bullshit. There was nothing sensual about this and the vampire dragged his teeth through Jaskier’s flesh as if he wanted to make this as painful as possible. If that was his goal, he was succeeding.

Hot fire raced through Jaskier’s blood and he could feel the tips of his fingers begin to tingle and the dark spots from before crept back into his vision.

He was beginning to lose all feeling in his hand and somehow, despite the pain, the fear, the certainty of his impending death, that was the worst part. That soon he wouldn’t be able to feel Geralt’s hand in his.

It hurt. Fuck, it hurt so much, but Jaskier pressed his lips together as tightly as he could, refusing to let a single cry leave him. He wasn’t a brave man and he wasn’t heroic. But he wouldn’t let Geralt hear his screams as he died. He couldn’t do that to him.

And yet, there were screams.

It took Jaskier’s sluggish mind a moment to realise that those weren’t his own screams. They were Geralt’s. For a moment, he almost thought they were but memories of Dol Blathanna, but no. Back then, Geralt had told the elves to leave Jaskier alone with no feeling other than responsibility and guilt.

Now, his voice was laden with fear and unbridled desperation.

The words he screamed didn’t make sense to Jaskier, but he knew the emotion behind them. It was the same thing he had felt every time he had seen a monster charge at Geralt or when he had been forced to press his hands against a wound in Geralt’s stomach, pleading with him to stay with him.

There was a word for it. Jaskier was sure of that. But he couldn’t for the life of him think of it now. Everything was too muddled, burning too hotly, agonizingly.

And then the vampire drew back. A sharp gasp escaped Jaskier and he would have fallen forward, had he not been held upwards by the ropes.

“Jaskier,” Geralt asked, panic surging through his voice.

“Still alive,” Jaskier panted with a crooked smile, though he knew that Geralt wasn’t able to see it. Perhaps he could hear it in his voice. “And by the looks of our new friend, my blood doesn’t taste too good.”

The vampire bared his fangs at Jaskier’s words.

“Oh, don’t you worry, pretty one.” The vampire’s tongue darted out to lick a stray droplet of blood from his lips. “You taste delicious.”

“Thank goodness,” Jaskier deadpanned through clenched teeth. “Why don’t you drink some more then? Maybe you’ll choke on it.”

“Jaskier!” Geralt warned him harshly.

The vampire’s smile widened. He ran a hand through Jaskier’s hair, almost soothingly, before he gripped his hair tightly and yanked his head to the side.

Jaskier braced himself for the sharp pain to pierce through him again, but instead of biting into him, the vampire took a long sniff at his neck before drawing back in disgust.

“You would be truly perfect, my dear,” he said coldly, “if it weren’t for that disgusting smell. I can barely scent your blood through it.”

Jaskier blinked at him. “Really? You’re about to kill me and you complain about my perfume? Pardon me for not exactly being sympathetic towards your great woes right now.”

“No matter,” the vampire said, ignoring Jaskier’s words completely, “doesn’t change a thing about the taste.”

The vampire opened his mouth once more and Jaskier could already feel the teeth gracing his skin, when Geralt jostled him to the side.

“Spare him,” he growled and there was something broken about his voice. “Don’t kill him.”

The vampire tsked in disapproval. “Now, you know I won’t do that. Why don’t you try again, come up with a better suggestion?”

Glee stood in his eyes. Every sign of him enjoying this torture made nausea rise in Jaskier’s throat.

“Then kill me first.”

“No! Geralt, don’t say something like that!” Jaskier twisted his head. The movement sent piercing agony through his neck, but he fought back against it. He needed to see Geralt. He clutched his hand as tightly as he could, as if that could somehow dissuade Geralt from this madness. Quieter, barely louder than a breath, Jaskier added, “Don’t make me listen to you die.”

“Oh, now it’s getting interesting.” The vampire tilted his head to the side, his eyes darting from Jaskier’s wide-eyed expression to Geralt who must look as stoic and undeterrable as ever. “The both of you, begging for each other’s life. The question is only, who is begging more beautifully?”

“He’s a bard,” Geralt spat. “If it’s words you want, he has more of them than I do. And look at him.” Geralt’s head jerked back, nodding towards Jaskier. “He’s not going to make it long is he? I am a witcher. You can drink from me for longer.”

The vampire let out an appreciative hum. “You would do that to the bard? You would prolong his suffering and listen as I drained you for hours?”

Geralt hesitated. When he spoke again, his voice was so unexpectedly soft that it made Jaskier gasp.

“I am sorry. I promised to keep you safe. This is the best I can do.”

“It’s not enough.” The vampire taunted, but his words were dripping with truth. “You will both die. But before he does, I will make him look at you, see how loud he can scream when he sees what I’ll have left of you.”

Jaskier whimpered, a plea leaving his lips and he squeezed his eyes shut. It didn’t stop the images of Geralt’s lifeless body from assaulting his mind.

“I’ll hate you,” Jaskier whispered. “Geralt, if you make me go through this, I will hate you. I’ll never forgive you.”

A harsh breath escaped Geralt and this thumb brushed oh so tenderly over Jaskier’s knuckles.

“I’d rather you hate me than me having to live knowing that I could have saved you.”

Jaskier wanted to shake his head, to protest, but the vampire’s grip was still tightly holding him in place. Jaskier’s eyes burned and his throat was impossibly tight. Tears rolled down his cheeks, his chin, his neck and he could feel them mixing with his blood.

“I can’t,” he sobbed. He hadn’t wanted to say this. Not like this, not in front of their murderer who watched the exchange hungrily. But he couldn’t stop himself. He needed Geralt to know. “I can’t hate you. I- Geralt, I love you.”

Geralt let out a strangled noise, before he found his voice. “Then let me do this.”

Jaskier’s shoulders wrecked with his sobs, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak up again. He had said everything he could say. Now the only thing he could do was let Geralt be the hero Jaskier had always known him to be one last time.

Jaskier’s silence must have been answer enough for the vampire. Ever so slowly, the grip in Jaskier’s hair loosened and the vampire stood to his full height.

“Don’t worry,” the vampire told Jaskier as if he was a parent calming their child. “I will make it slow. You will have your beloved by your side for as long as possible. And it won’t take you long to follow after him.”

Relishing in every second of Jaskier’s agony, the vampire slowly rounded him until he came to a halt before Geralt.

Geralt didn’t scream, didn’t even draw in a sharp breath, as if he didn’t want Jaskier to hear what was happening.

It was in vain.

There was no mistaking the stomach-churning squelch of the vampire biting into flesh.

It was the most horrible sound Jaskier had ever heard. He couldn’t listen. He needed to drown out those sounds. Words tumbled from Jaskier’s lips. Pleas, screams, whispered words he was desperate for Geralt to hear.

If Geralt were to die now, the last thing he ever heard shouldn’t be Jaskier’s cries. It should be reassurances of how he couldn’t have done anything different, of how Jaskier didn’t blame him for a single thing, of how much he was loves. That more than all else.

Jaskier had no control over his words. He couldn’t tell what else he was saying, only that time and time again, he repeated the words he had been too much of a coward to say before it had been too late.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

It felt like hours. Geralt’s body was tense and Jaskier’s voice became hoarse, giving out and leaving nothing but the horrible sounds of the vampire killing Geralt.

But nothing was as terrifying as when the sound of the vampire devouring Geralt suddenly stopped.

Jaskier’s blood turned to ice and claws of despair plunged into his chest.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

“Geralt,” Jaskier whispered into the silence. There was no reply. A pit opened up in Jaskier’s chest. He wanted to scream, to cry, to beg, but all of his words had dried up. What use were words anyway? They hadn’t been able to save Geralt and now that he was gone, there would be no one to listen to them other than the reason why Geralt would never again say another word.

The vampire must have held Geralt up, for when Jaskier now heard the rustling of clothes as the vampire stood up again, Geralt slumped over and dragged Jaskier with him to the ground.

Jaskier’s side hit the floor painfully, but he was too numb to care.

He looked up with all the contempt he could muster as the vampire came into his view again. But there was something off about the way he moved. He had been slow before, but there had been a regal elegance to it, perfectly controlled. Now his movements were sluggish and almost wooden.

He didn’t crouch before Jaskier as he had before. Instead he fell to his knees.

“It’s your turn again,” the vampire purred – no, slurred.

Jaskier’s brows drew together and he narrowed his eyes. They widened again when they landed on the blood that was smeared around the vampire’s mouth. It was black.

The same colour of Geralt’s blood after he had drank his potions. The potions that were toxic to anyone who wasn’t a witcher.

But why – the vampire should have been able to smell it. He would have never drunken poisoned blood. Except…he hadn’t been able to smell the blood, had he? He had said so himself. The perfume had been too strong, strong enough to even overpower the smell of the toxins.

A disbelieving laugh escaped Jaskier. The vampire whirled around as if to fix Jaskier with a death-glare, but his eyes were unfocussed. He bared his teeth and surged towards Jaskier.

He didn’t reach him alive.

With a heavy thud, the body landed on Jaskier, unmoving. Dead.

For a terrifying moment, Jaskier didn’t dare move. The only sound in the room was his own panting breath. The noises of the ball had long since subsided.

He was alone.

The knowledge sank into his chest like a stone dropped into the ocean. He was alone. Geralt had saved him – had given his life to save him – and now he’d have to save himself.

With more strength than he thought he still possessed, Jaskier twisted in his bindings, kicking at the vampire’s body until it moved.

Bile rose in his throat when his free hand found the vampire’s head and pried his mouth open. He fumbled and he cut himself on the teeth, but he persisted, yanking the rope as good as he could against the sharp teeth until finally, they snapped.

Jaskier rolled to the side, panting heavily, as his chest finally was no longer restricted.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he counted his own heartbeats.

Ten. Ten heartbeats he allowed himself, before he clenched his jaw and faced Geralt’s body.

Tears stung in his eyes and his face was contorted to a grimace of grief and pain as he grabbed Geralt’s heavy body and rolled him onto his back.

He wouldn’t be able to get him out of here. Even if Jaskier had normally been strong enough to carry him, there was no way, he would be able to do so now, with his vision swimming at the tiniest of exertions.

Still, his insides twisted painfully at even the idea of leaving Geralt all alone here lying next to the man – the monster - who had killed him.

Jaskier’s eyes darted frantically through the room before they landed on the bed. It wasn’t what Geralt would have wanted and it was worse than he deserved, but it was the best Jaskier could do.

Jaskier’s hands shook, as he grabbed Geralt beneath his arms and tried to hoist him up. As he more dragged than carried Geralt to the bed, his knees gave out under him more than once and he had to furiously blink away the darkness that threatened to swallow him once more.

When he finally heaved Geralt onto the bed, Jaskier nearly collapsed on top of him.

When he had gathered enough strength to right himself once more, he felt his heart jolt in his chest. Geralt didn’t look peaceful as he lay in a stranger’s bed. He didn’t look like he was just sleeping. Half of his neck was smeared with blood and his skin was deathly pale. Jaskier had seen him like this before, every time Geralt had taken his potions that had drained his face of all colour. But he had always known that sooner or later, Geralt would open his eyes again.

He wouldn’t ever do so again now.

For once he had gone where Jaskier couldn’t follow.

Taking a shaking breath, Jaskier reached out. His hand found the cool metal of the medallion. It felt wrong taking it from him. Geralt never took it off. Never.

But Jaskier needed to give it back to his family. They deserved to have this. And Jaskier was selfish enough that he wanted to keep something of Geralt’s with him too, for as long as he could.

His breath hitched. He would have to return to Roach alone. He would somehow have to make her understand that Geralt wasn’t going to come back to her.

His hand trembled and slid off the medallion, landing on Geralt’s chest, right above his heart. How often had he pressed his hand against this place and complained to Geralt that he could feel nothing? That his heart was too slow? Now, he would give everything to know that that was the reason why there was no beat beneath his hand.

After a too long moment of hopeless hope, Jaskier lifted his hand off of Geralt. It came away sticky with blood.

Jaskier worked almost mechanically. Wiping away the blood, first from his hand and then from Geralt’s neck. He used random pieces of fabric to bandage the wound as he had done so often before. He knew it was useless, it was too late, but still, there was a comfort in the familiar motions.

He didn’t know how long he worked like that. It didn’t matter. He treated Geralt’s wound as best he could until there was nothing left for him to do.

His mouth went dry, as he brushed a strand of Geralt’s hair behind his ear. He was so beautiful. Jaskier wished he had had the strength to tell Geralt before it had been too late.

The certainty that this was the last time he would ever see Geralt buried itself into Jaskier’s chest like a blade.

“You did it,” he whispered, a watery smile on his lips. “You saved me.” It was already too late. Geralt couldn’t hear his words anymore, but Jaskier couldn’t leave without telling him. He owed that much to him. “I don’t care what you said before. I am alive. Because of you.” A sob interrupted his words. “I will never forget you. I promise. I love you. I-“

His voice broke one last time. Too many things had he left unsaid between them and now he would never get to say them in any way that mattered.

His fingers trailed over Geralt’s face, desperate to memorise every scar, every feature, as if those weren’t already branded into Jaskier’s mind.

His finger’s came to a halt above Geralt’s slightly parted lips. Jaskier could almost imagine a faint breath ghosting over his fingers. But that was impossible. Wishful thinking, nothing more.

Still, he let his fingers linger and leaned closer, grasping onto this last impossible hope.

And then it happened. Geralt’s lips moved. No sound left them, but Jaskier could still understand the word they formed. It was a name. His name.

“I am here!” Jaskier’s other hand cupped Geralt’s cheek. “Geralt, I’m here. I am safe. You are safe. You did it, you – you’re alive!”

“’s loud,” Geralt mumbled faintly, but his lips quirked into the barest hint of a smile. His eyes opened just the tiniest bit, but the sliver of gold they revealed was the most beautiful sight Jaskier could imagine.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice got stronger with the word, though his shallow breaths were laboured and it was obvious how much it pained him to speak.

“You bastard.” Jaskier let out a laugh that might as well have been a sob. “You made me think you were dead. Don’t ever do that to me again!”

“I won’t.” Geralt’s expression softened impossibly. “And I… I wouldn’t leave you without telling you…”

Geralt tried to lift his hand, but the effort was too much. Jaskier caught it mid-air and pressed it against his own cheek.

“What? Tell me what?” he breathed.

Geralt’s thumb caressed his cheek with aching tenderness.

“That I love you.”

Jaskier’s heart felt like it would burst, like all of the agony, all of the fear and despair had been chased away with just these four words that he had never dared to dream he would ever hear come out of Geralt’s mouth.

“Tell me again?” he asked with a shaking voice.

A glint entered Geralt’s eyes and his lips twitched slightly. “You first.”

“I love you,” Jaskier said without hesitation. “I love you. And you better not wait until the next time I think you’re dead to say it back again.”

“I won’t.” For a moment Geralt looked at him, searching his face as if Jaskier was a miracle he couldn’t figure out. “I will say it as often as you want to hear it. For however long you are willing to have me.”

“Forever?” Jaskier had aimed for a teasing tone, but instead it came out tentative and small.

He could see Geralt’s throat bob labouredly as he swallowed. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is. I never want to lose you again. I can’t.”

“Then you’ll have me forever.” He paused. “Jaskier?”

Jaskier turned his face slightly, just enough to press a fleeting kiss against Geralt’s palm, but still holding eye contact. “Yes?”

“I can’t lose you either. I love you.”

[armysantiny]

Reckless - DSC

Pairing: Sicheng (Winwin) x female reader || WayV

Genre: fluff, angst, comfort

Includes: motocross racer reader, tournaments, established relationship, crashes, head injury, broken arm, Mark mention, news headline, hospital visit, overnight stay, falling unconscious, concussion, Renjun mention, Donghyuck mention, Jeno mention, hot chocolate, eating breakfast together, teasing, domestic fluff

Word count: 3.31k

Warning: hospital, injury, concussion, broken arm

Rating: 12

Networks:@kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @kpopscape, @ultkpopnetwork, @kpopficsnetwork, @kpopcontentcreatorsclub, @k-dinernet, @lovesick-net, @whipped-kpop-creators, @prism-nw, @k-library, @neoswitchnet, @nct-writers, @nctcreations

Tagging: @teeztheflag, @intokook, @cherry-hyejin

Summary: : After ending her tournament on a high, y/n takes Sicheng to the practice track for a few spins on her bike. Opting to watch her instead, he warns y/n not to injure herself; she does need to rest after her race. Promising to try and be as careful as she can, y/n takes her bike on a few laps of the track. When she takes her eyes off the track for just a moment, she sends the bike and herself flying into the ground.

An: My first collab fic! (I’m kinda ehh about this tho-)

Champagne, cameras, crowds; winning the national championship - y/n had done it. As she ran into Sicheng’s arms in front of the cameras, he spun her around. Setting his girlfriend down, he pulled her in for a soft kiss. A kiss that held a thousand meanings; longing, congratulations, you did it, I’m proud of you, well done, y/n. Pulling away and seeing the stars in each other’s eyes, the couple stayed like that, the cameras capturing their moment - as if they were the only ones in the world at that moment.

“Shall we get out of here? I think I’ve seen enough cameras to last a lifetime.”

Sicheng couldn’t describe just how proud he was of y/n; seeing her win a tournament after she had returned from a dip in motivation felt like a scene out of a drama. Except it wasn’t a drama: this was y/n, this was real. His hand intertwined with hers, the couple walked through the streets of Seoul and simply enjoyed each other’s company. As they stopped to cross the street, a cheeky grin made its way onto his face as he quickly pressed a kiss to y/n’s cheek. When she looked to Sicheng, he turned away immediately, a bashful series of giggles falling from him as he walked across the crosswalk with y/n. With the blush on her face dying down, y/n scoffed to herself, shaking her head. Gosh, he was endearing. 

Somehow, they ended up at the race track not that far from their shared apartment, and y/n was already eying the practice bikes they kept in the shed. Sicheng knew that look in her eyes all too well, and it already seemed like a bad idea in his head. Didn’t y/n just come back from a race tournament? It wasn’t that he wanted her away from what made her happy, but he missed her dearly. A little quiet time together before she hit the tracks again would be more than ideal.

“Baby...you only just returned home today, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to get back in your gear tomorrow.” An effort to persuade y/n was made, but it wasn’t strong enough, because with nothing more than a pout, some aegyo and ‘please baby~’, Sicheng’s resolve crumbled. He was whipped for y/n, and it showed. A lot. With a sigh, he ruffled her hair and nodded, a smile finding its way onto his face. Giggling, y/n kissed her boyfriend on the cheek and took her long coat off, asking Sicheng to hold it as she went over to the garage. Picking out a bike that she used frequently, y/n changed into gear and pushed the bike out to the track.

As Sicheng took a seat by a bench, his phone rang whilst he was watching y/n, making sure that was safe. Looking at the caller, he chuckled to himself. 

“Mark! How are you?” The younger male across the line was bouncing with excitement, the news article on his computer. Being the couple’s mutual younger friend, he was practically treated like a little brother.

“Hyung! Oh my gosh - have you seen the article?! Your relationship is viral!” He exclaimed, the article in question running with the headline; ‘Motocross champion in a loving relationship. How long has this been going on?’. As far as tabloid news articles went, it was definitely a much kinder title than what could’ve been developed. Listening to Mark ramble on while y/n drove a few laps around the track, Sicheng burst out laughing at Mark’s impression of some of their friends. And this caught y/n’s attention, for better or for worse. To her detriment, y/n turned her head towards her boyfriend as she approached a corner, however, she failed to control her bike. Before the professional racer knew what was going on, she was sent flying off of her bike and into the metal chairs - that had been stacked up and stored under a shelter -  her bike getting caught on the barriers. The sound of the crash itself was by no means quiet, as multiple chairs collapsed and fell on top of y/n.

As the crash happened, Sicheng’s gaze was ripped from the sky towards the fallen bike, and soon the chairs. A panicked horror fell on his face and he immediately hung up on the younger friend, running down towards the track and to the mess of chairs that had covered y/n.

“Y/n! Oh dear God… I told you to be careful!” His heart dropped out of his chest when y/n  didn’t respond for a few seconds - although it felt like an eternity - and Sicheng feared the worst. As the adrenaline flooded his veins, the 23-year-old started pulling the chairs away, discarding them every-which-way as he tried to find y/n. Once a majority of the chairs were out of the way, he pulled her to his chest, cradling her unconscious - but thankfully alive - body. Hands still trembling, he fumbled with his phone as he dialled 119. His voice trembled as he described his situation, a shaky sigh of relief when help was confirmed. Putting the call on speaker and leaving it next to him, Sicheng held y/n’s face in his hands. 

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like any of it.

He hated seeing her like this.

The tremble in his voice turned to whimpers as he ran his hand through her hair. But something felt off. Pulling his hand away, a stifled cry fell from him when his hand came back stained red. Blood. Y/N was bleeding from the back of her head. How hard did she hit her head..? Sicheng’s eyes warmed with tears as he brushed his girlfriend’s hair out of her face, a thumb tracing over her shut eyes. Soon, he could feel the tears drip down his face and he made no attempt to wipe them away, simply letting them stain his cheeks. If only he hadn’t distracted her, then she wouldn’t be unconscious. Then y/n wouldn’t be laying in his arms, bleeding from her head.

The sound of sirens brought the 23-year-old back to reality and Sicheng raised an arm up to grab the paramedics’ attention. Surrounded by paramedics, they brought y/n onto a stretcher and into the ambulance that had accompanied them. Still trembling as he tried to explain what had just happened, Sicheng was brought to the ambulance afterwards and given a glass of water to drink as the doors closed and they were driven to the hospital. His leg bounced as he grew more and more panicked, eyes blurring up with tears again as he looked over to y/n. The irony was painful, and it still didn’t register to Sicheng that only a few hours ago y/n was awake and joking around with him.

A few hours later, Sicheng was sitting in y/n’s room, on a chair close to her bed. Her hand enclosed in his, he rubbed his thumb over her palm subconsciously while he replayed the crash in his head over and over again. Getting up to walk off the anxiety, he turned to the door when he heard a series of knocks. Walking to open the door, he was met by a panicking Mark, who looked like he’d seen a ghost. Seeing y/n laid on the bed, his face fell. Lying unconscious in a hospital bed didn’t suit the motocross racer at all. He looked at Sicheng and his eyes said more than he could ever say with words. A hand on the older male’s shoulder, Mark sighed before he spoke.

“Hyung, why don’t we go outside for a bit? Y/n’s still going to be right here.” He suggested, hoping that Sicheng would agree and go to the courtyard with him. Fresh air would do them both some good. Nodding, Sicheng exhaled and grabbed his coat, which had been draped over the chair he was sitting on. With one last look at y/n, the older of the two opened the hospital room door and they left the room, making their way to the courtyard.

Handing Sicheng an iced caramel latte, Mark sat down on the bench and took a sip of his own drink. Neither of them knew what to say, but they both knew that they had to stay positive about it. Sicheng was the first to bring his attention away from the floor, looking at Mark.

“Do you think she’ll actually take a break after she recovers?” He asked, his features softening.

“She definitely won’t want to, but Noona really should take a break. A few weeks away from her bikes won’t kill her.” The brunet responded, a conviction in his voice. Y/n was brave, but sometimes too reckless for her own good and today proved that effortlessly. They both had a lingering feeling that they’d have to force y/n to take a break.  Staying like that for the meantime, both were lost in thought until Mark’s phone rang; he was needed back in his apartment. Renjun was seconds from beating Donghyuck up and Jeno did not want to be the one in between it. Although, he did agree to film if anything did happen. 

“Hyung, I’m sorry - I gotta go. Renjun’s going to beat Hyuck’s ass-”

“Go on, and send me the video later.” Sicheng chuckled, patting Mark’s shoulder in the reassurance that he’d be okay. A quick goodbye, and soon Mark was making his way out of the hospital, getting a taxi and heading to his shared apartment before he would be greeted by a screaming Donghyuck. Watching the younger male leave with an amused smile, Sicheng hummed to himself before he figured it was time he headed back to y/n.

Returning to his girlfriend’s hospital room, he sat back in his chair, his hand holding hers once again. The sun had started setting outside as his eyes felt heavy, and Sicheng could tell he’d most likely end up spending the night in the hospital. Pulling his chair closer to y/n’s bedside, he laid his head on the mattress, facing his girlfriend as he let the urge to sleep take over. A nurse who happened to be passing by peeked inside the room and smiled gently, almost parent-like. Going into the storage room, they picked out a pillow and blanket for Sicheng as he slept through the night shift.

By morning light, the sunlight had just started to fall on y/n’s face, and the motocross racer’s skin glowed in the early morning rays. Eyes opening with a low groan, she looked around at her surroundings, a brow raised in confusion. Why exactly was she in the hospital? Wasn’t she riding her motorbike when- oh right…

She crashed. Headfirst. That was why she was lying in a hospital bed, dazed and with a throbbing headache. Wonderful. A soft smile on her face when she saw Sicheng asleep, y/n sat herself up - albeit slowly and with a lot of effort - and reached forward to lace her fingers through his hair. Stopping when the sleeping brunet started opening his eyes, y/n’s hand stayed in her boyfriend’s hair. Yawning as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Sicheng’s eyes formed into an ‘ㅇ’ when he noticed the pillow and blanket.

“Oh? One of the nurses must have-” words getting caught in his throat when he ran his hands through his hair and ended up feeling y/n’s own hand in his hair. Turning to face y/n in hopes that he wasn’t simply just imagining things, his eyes almost didn’t process what he was seeing until Y/N smiled, amused by the shock on his face. It was cute, she had to admit.

“Y-y/n, you’re…”

“Awake?” She answered, her voice a tad hoarse.  Reacting immediately and pulling her into a hug, Sicheng exhaled, content with staying like that for a few minutes - in hope that y/n being awake wasn’t a dream. Releasing her from the hug, Sicheng held her hands in his, stars in his eyes.

“How, how do you feel?... You scared me, you know?” Sicheng asked, peacefully admiring how his girlfriend looked in the morning - despite the bandages, IV and cute but unruly bed hair. Throat still dry, y/n shrugged.

“My head’s killing me, that’s for sure. Uh - what, what did the doctors say?” She asked, curious as to exactly how bad her injury was. The way Sicheng grimaced before answering wasn’t helping either. Preparing for the worst, y/n braced herself for the news. What if she couldn’t ride bikes again from that point on? Her career couldn’t be over that quick-

“Well, you got a pretty bad concussion, and they want to see if you’ve broken anything.” Sicheng explained with a sigh, indicating her elevated arm. Y/n had gotten away with concussions before - it was nothing new. Workplace incidents, that sort of thing. But if she had broken a bone, there was no way she’d be allowed to go anywhere near a motorbike until she was fully healed. Which would be a minimum of a month off the tracks, at least.

“I hope it isn’t broken.”

Getting the x-ray done was the easy bit; keeping her arm in place, letting the doctors do what they had to do, simple. It was the waiting for the results that was the hard part. Although it was only a few hours, y/n’s train of thought wasn’t letting up. The worry was eating away at her. Distracting herself by staring out of the window, even that was proving to be of little help. Biting at her lip as she went through what she’d do in the event that she did break her arm, y/n hadn’t noticed the nurse walking up to her bedside until Sicheng had repeatedly tapped her leg, an amused grin on his face after he had gotten a cup of water for the both of them. Shaking her head and turning to the nurse, y/n waited for the news.

“How bad is it?” Y/n asked, a blend of hesitation and hope in her voice.

“You’re quite lucky, Miss L/n, you had a pretty nasty crash. Apart from your concussion, you’ve sustained a mild fracture in your right arm.” The nurse answered, a polite smile on their face as they broke the news as best they could. As y/n took in the news that she’d ended up with a broken arm, she exhaled, thanking the nurse for letting her know. There was a pause in the room as the couple were left alone, an amused realisation and chuckle coming from the professional bike racer.

“Well, isn’t that wonderful?”

Holding y/n’s free hand as the couple left the hospital, Sicheng reached over and ruffled his injured girlfriend’s hair, a grin on his face at y/n shaking his hand off with a sulky downturn to her lips. They’d been on the phone with her manager, and it was confirmed that she’d be taking the required time off to recover, and an extra two weeks to actually take some time away from the track. Lips pursed as she observed her arm sling, y/n turned to her boyfriend - who had been calling a cab while she was zoned out in her own world. If she was going to be taking time off, the idea of spending as much of that time with Sicheng was quite appealing, to say the least.

“Sicheng, can you stay the night? I wanna spend more time with you,”

“Sure~ I’m free for next week. I’m all yours y/n-ah~” 

Entering the apartment together, y/n sighed, taking a seat on the sofa and resting her head as she stared up at the ceiling. Hanging up his coat, Sicheng joined her, taking the same position and giggling when y/n turned to him in confusion. She knew why she was staring at the uninteresting ceiling, but why did he have to? His giggles turning into snickers, Sicheng excused himself into the kitchen before y/n could ask the question that was on her mind. Returning to the living room with two mugs of hot chocolate in hand, Sicheng set y/n’s down and took a sip of his own, an amused grin remaining on his face. Still more or less not in the mood to talk, y/n leaned over and pressed a kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek as she picked up the other mug with her unbandaged hand. The couple stayed like that, enjoying their drinks and the silence. 

As the evening drew closer, and both y/n and Sicheng were feeling their eyelids grew heavy, a yawn from the motocross racer in the room signaled to them both that it would be best for the couple to get some sleep. 

“Baby, I don’t know about you, but I’m seconds away from passing out on this sofa,” Y/n joked as she pulled herself up and helped Sicheng to his feet. Wincing a tad when her ankle collided with the corner of the table, y/n rolled her eyes with a shake of her head and a smile when Sicheng started giggling.

“Y/n-ah, are - are you okay?”

“Well, I’m glad you’re entertained,” y/n sassed, walking into their bedroom with Sicheng trailing after, a grin still on his face, “I’m fine, just so you know~” 

The next day, y/n had woken up with a groan. Although she had spent ten minutes trying to find the best way to sleep, she had tossed and turned - and now her arm was starting to ache. Pushing herself to sit up and get out of bed, y/n tried managing as best she could, gently massaging her arm every so often. She’d take some painkillers after she ate breakfast. Heading to the kitchen to try and make herself something to eat, y/n stopped and looked down, a flustered smile on her face as she turned to see Sicheng with his head buried in her shoulders.

“Good morning you~ could I interest you in some breakfast~?” Y/n laughed, kissing the still half asleep man���s cheek. Muttering something about making it himself, Sicheng unwinded his hands and dragged his feet around the kitchen floor as he made himself something to eat, his girlfriend watching him as she leaned against the dining table, sipping on a fruit smoothie.

“How do you manage to get up so early? I’m exhausted.” Sicheng asked, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Prone to working afternoons himself, waking up early morning was definitely something he wasn’t used to. Giggling as she ate, y/n shrugged, a playful smile on her face. Waking up early was the norm for the motocross racer; arriving at the tracks at unforgiving times to practice.

“Oh I don’t know~? Motocross perhaps?” She asked, teasing the man in front of her. His unamused face turning into a smile that screamed ‘I love her so much’, Sicheng rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he watched the pleased grin on y/n’s face.

“Y/n-ah, do you know how much I love you?”

“Do I?”

“I- come here you-” Walking over to y/n and pulling her out of the chair and into his arms, the couple stood there for a moment, lost in each other's eyes...Until y/n started wincing.

“Baby? What’s wrong? Did, did I hurt you, I’m so-” Sicheng pouted in concern as he started checking y/n’s arm, looking back up in confusion when she started laughing. “What? What is it?”

“Got you~”

“Y/n! You scared me! Seriously, you’ve got to be less reckless next time” 

“Love you too baby~”