#i'm quite pleased with the way i spun it - he really does it out of love and thinks it's ultimately for a good cause

[wyvernquill]

I'm rewatching Anastasia and this convo would really fit in your AU

Hob: look, Murphy, I'm just trying to help Murphy: do you really think I'm an Endless, Hob?

Hob: you know I do.

Murphy: then stop bossing me around

I'm sorry, this ask is already over a year old, but I finally got around to writing a scene based on it! (Plus some Murphy&Gil bits I wanted to put in somewhere, anyway.) Hope you enjoy!

[Mild warning for contemplation of one's potential death, and having once lost the will to life - I wouldn't call it suicidal ideation, it doesn't quite go there, but I figured I'd better be safe than sorry.]

Link to Anastasia AU Masterpost!

(Tag list, let me know if you want to be added or taken off: @10moonymhrivertam @martybaker @globglobglobglobob @anonymoustitans @sunshines-fabulous-legs @dreamsofapiratelife @malice-royaume @kcsandmanfan @acedragontype @okilokiwithpurpose @tharkuun @silver-dream89 @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch)

“Hob.” Murphy interrupts, eyes flashing with frustration.

(Today’s how-to-be-a-Dream-Lord lessons are not going well - not that any of them have, but this one is a particular catastrophe. Gil has already given up on their contrary charge for the evening, and with the way Murphy’s shoulders are up and tension bristles between them, Hob is unlikely to make much more headway tonight.)

“Tell me. Do you truly believe I am him? The Prince of Stories? The Dream King?”

“Yes,” Hob lies, easily, unflinchingly, and with a smile on his face. A good lie has to be treated like the truth, and maybe, one day, it’ll actually turn into one. They’ve been trying so very hard to teach Murphy this, he should know it by now. “Of course.”

“Then, perhaps,” Murphy spits, and despite his feral arrogance, despite the way he holds his head high and squares his slender shoulders, it’s not the regal indignation of a King, but the helpless tantrum of an angry child who’s failing in class. “You ought to finally treat me with the fucking deference an Endless is owed, Hob Gadling!”

(There are tears in his pale-blueish eyes, Hob can see them, can hear the crack in Murphy’s hoarse voice.

Nobody has treated this man with respect in all the years he remembers, that much is obvious. Nobody but his birds. And he knows, they all know, that he’s no prince, that his blood runs red, not blue - runs at all, come to think of it. Endless don’t bleed.

But he wants to be. He wishes he was. Murphy is not Dream of the Endless, but he is ravenous for the spoils of such a role. Desperate to be respected, to be worshipped and revered, desperate to be owed the sort of treatment he has never received.

Hob ought to be ashamed of himself for taking advantage of that helpless hunger for kindness and decency… and he will be. For the rest of his immortal life, he’ll live with the shame of what he did to cheat Death, and still not regret it.)

Hob plasters a smile over his impatience and opens his mouth, gentle, calming words already on the tip of his tongue. Murphy is lonely and frightened and frustrated, that much is obvious. Fine. Hob knew it wouldn’t be easy, to teach their false Dream all he needs to know, and this is not an insurmountable roadblock. If Hob can only reassure him, earn his trust, be his friend, even, it will make everything much easier. Poor thing, lashing out like an injured animal. But Hob can surely coax him into-

Murphy recoils. Flinches back from the admittedly-half-faked warmth, his face, his entire bearing collapsing into itself like a heavy portcullis rattling shut.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls, pointing one of his stick-thin fingers at Hob’s face, “don’t you DARE! I have no need for your false pity, and I want no part of it! I want-” the white of his eyes is bloodshot, and in his terror, in his fury, in his desperation, awash in unshed tears “-I want out. This deal is off. Find some other poor sucker to teach how to play Endless, I won’t do it! I’ve had enough!”

And before Hob can say as much as a single word, Murphy has snatched up his coat and slipped out onto the rainy street, Matthew following - but not after awarding Hob with a colder glare than he would’ve thought a mere raven capable of.

Murphy does not manage to flee very far.

He is in an unfamiliar town, with no money, no valuables besides the clothes on his back that are now slightly finer than he used to be; and the winter is cold and deep and stifling. He gets no further than a handful of streets until he slows halfway across a bridge, shaking with cold more than anger, snowflakes dancing around him. It is a quiet, windless night - and it has always calmed him, to stand underneath the dark sky at night, and know that most of the city lies asleep around him.

Matthew settles on the bridge’s parapet, caws. Hops closer, cocks his head to one side. There is a clear question in his bearing, a what now? glinting in his eyes. Birds are open and honest - unlike humans. Liars and hypocrites all.

“...I do not know, Matthew.” Murphy admits quietly. He has taken the coat, but forgotten the scarf in his haste, so he tugs at his collar, to keep the cold air from trickling down his spine. “I truly don’t.”

He does not have the means to return to London on his own - and at the same time, does not have much desire to do so. He had nothing and no-one there, but for the birds. Pockets can be picked anywhere - he could make a new start in this nameless town.

…if only it weren’t winter.

Murphy shivers, feeling his bones rattle with it. The night is calm, but bitterly cold, and it will not end well for him, sitting in the snow until morning. In the dark of winter, he cannot afford a night without shelter, a day without a sure way to come by some food to keep his strengths up. In London, he would have known where to go. Here, he is helpless.

Damn Hob Gadling, and may Destruction take him! Murphy will have no other choice but to crawl back to him, and hope he’ll be kept on as Endless-impersonator. Hope, because Murphy’s made a right pig’s ear of it so far, slow and clumsy to learn, and outright refusing to play at nobility. He will always be a gutter rat, Murphy knows it. They can’t fashion him into a Dream King, and perhaps this flare of temper will prove to Hob once and for all that there is no point in trying.

There is no point in trying.

Murphy gives up on his collar, and rests his hands on the parapet. Matthew caws, and presses his head against his arm, a far better reassurance than Hob’s false smiles. It comforts Murphy, at least a little. He’s not alone, never alone - no matter how lonely he might feel.

Underneath them, a foreign river flows just fast enough to avoid the freeze. The water does not reflect any stars, but the snow dancing over the surface makes it almost look as if. His own reflection wavers and breaks across the waves.

(Some nights, he dreams of a darkened shore and a sea stretching far past the horizon, black waters that fold up into the night sky, indistinguishable from each other. Of a wooden pier, and galaxies swirling underneath.

Whenever he leans out too far, the reflected eyes he meets are not his own, and he wakes with a scream lodged in his throat.)

Murphy shivers again, and savours the last remnants of his pride, before it, too, will have to be cast into the dirt and abandoned.

“I believe you forgot this, young friend.”

Murphy’s head snaps up.

Dreams and nightmares approach without a whisper, perfectly silent at night if they choose to be. Gilbert is no exception; and if Murphy were to pay attention to anything but his heart racing like a startled hare, he would perhaps be a little distressed by the fact that there are no fresh footprints in the snow beside his own.

But it’s only Gilbert, kind-eyed and not-human, holding out Murphy’s scarf like a peace offering.

Murphy does not take it.

“Did Gadling send you?” he asks, wary.

“Robert informed me what had transpired between you two.” Gilbert admits. “But rest assured, I am here on nobody’s behalf but my own - and, well, yours. Frightfully nippy tonight, wouldn’t you say?”

Murphy does not say. He trusts Gil as little as Hob, perhaps even less. A dream attempting to betray the memory of his master seems hardly like a paragon of virtue, and is perhaps even more suspicious than a deceitful human.

(He does, however, take the scarf now. It’s too cold to be stubborn, and when he winds it around his neck, it smells of sunshine on a summer meadow, warm and comforting.)

“And if you truly wish to leave… dear boy, I won’t stop you.” Murphy does not like the way Gilbert looks at him, as if trying to see someone else beneath his skin. He does not meet Murphy’s eyes, if he can help it. “In fact I would send you off with well-earned compensation for your time, and travel fare. Unless…”

Gil steps up to the parapet beside him.

“...unless I can convince you to stay…?”

“Why would you?” Murphy mutters, instead of why would I, if you’re offering to pay me off? “It should be perfectly obvious that I’ll never pass muster.”

“Ironically,” Gilbert smiles, but only at the man he pretends to see whenever he looks at Murphy, “it is well known among the former denizens of the Dreaming that His Lordship was often prone to very similar bouts of pessimism. I have faith in you, Murphy - and so does Robert Gadling. Please, do not leave. I rather doubt we will succeed without you.”

"You…" Murphy struggles with the words, the sentiment behind them lodging uncomfortably in his throat. "You have great respect, even love, for Dream of the Endless' memory. So why do you pretend? Why try to fool his siblings that I am him?"

For a moment, Gilbert seems ready to insist, as always, that Murphy is, or at least might be - but, to his credit, he does not play Murphy for a fool, in the end. Not this time. Not like Hob always, always does.

"You are quite correct. I loved His Lordship deeply, in a way that could never be understood by anyone but a dream and their creator." Gilbert sighs, his soft meadow-green eyes gazing far into the distance of better days, lined by old grief. "He made me to be the Heart of the Dreaming, and he was the Dreaming, so I knew his heart and self better than any other. The loss, when he… you cannot imagine it, young friend. I thought I would wither away and die. I thought that would be a mercy. To live as a dream in a universe that does not contain Dream of the Endless seemed entirely unthinkable, and to be quite frank, I did not think I would survive longer than a year at most in the Waking."

"I understand," says Murphy, quietly, and he does. He is no stranger to the feeling of being so untethered, only floating along with the end looming over him, death - not Death, no longer, the Endless have been cast from their domains - only biding its time.

(In the first year he can remember, Murphy did not think he would see another, either.)

"And yet, the year passed. And I lived." Gilbert smiles, faintly, taking off his glasses to polish them. "I suspect it was humanity which saved me, for all that they robbed me of my home and Lord, as well. I found… such joy, in this world. In my human form, wandering among them. Calling a few select individuals friends, even. Young Robert's companionship was a particular blessing, and I owe him more than he can ever know."

He sets the glasses back on his nose.

"Lord Morpheus is dead." Says Gilbert. Says it like fact, like something too absolute for the sort of dream-creature born of hypotheticals he is, like an unshakeable truth he has resigned himself to. His voice only barely breaks over the words. "And I shall grieve him for all the rest of my days… but I must live to mourn him. Life goes on, young friend, and we must all move along with it. And, well. I cannot speak for Robert's motivations, but the true reason why I have agreed to this mad scheme…"

Gilbert takes Murphy's freezing hands in his own. His fingertips are not lined quite right, they would not leave prints that look even remotely like those of a human - but aside from that, his grip is warm, avuncular, firm, reassuring.

"I fear that his siblings will not be able to live on without him." Gilbert confesses, quietly. "They are not made to accept change and move on from a loss as monumental as what humanity has wrought upon them. To have you… not him, not entirely, but perhaps enough… it is my most solemn hope that it might give them some form of closure at long last."

"So that's what it is?" Murphy laughs, bitterly. "Charitable concern for the well-being of personifications of abstract concepts!?"

"No." Gilbert corrects mildly. "Love. For my creator's family."

Murphy scoffs. His chest aches with it.

"What you, hmm. What you must understand, about Lord Morpheus…" Gilbert seems to be choosing his words very carefully. "...is that, for all that he was often harsh and commanding, he was so very loving, always. My Lord loved with all his self, even if he would attempt to turn a cold shoulder to the world - and I think you are much like him in temperament, young Murphy.”

Murphy does not acknowledge that. He doesn't think he can.

“He loved his family, and he loved the Dreaming, and all the beings in it. I was his heart, or near as, you must recall, I knew the truth at the core of him.

Memories or not, love as he did, and you will be a credit to his name, and a comfort to all who knew him."

(Murphy does not have it in himself to love like Dream of the Endless did. He already struggles to love at all.

But perhaps, for the sake of the entity whose memory he will dishonour, he can try.)

“So. Will you come back and resume your lessons?” Gil asks, very gently. “You may leave, now or any other time, of course you may. But it would be to your benefit, as well as to that of many others, if you did not.”

“I’ll stay,” Murphy forces out. He could blame the way his hands shake on the cold. “For now.”

“Thank you, dear child. Thank you.” This time, when Gilbert smiles, it very nearly feels like it is directed at him, after all. “Now, let’s get you out of this cold, hm? And Matthew as well.”

Murphy lets Gilbert herd him back to their inn, sits through Hob Gadling’s apology and wonders if it was sincere - he can never tell, with this infuriating man - and continues to learn as much as possible about the life of Dream of the Endless.

But he’s slowly realising, if anything will convince the Endless siblings, then it certainly won’t be the trivia. He’ll have to learn to love like the Lord of Stories, for their deception to have a snowflake’s chance in hell.

(Oh, wonderful. As if this wasn’t difficult enough already…)

[reticent-writer]

Hiii, can you please write another fic about a teenage reader (16-18) and anybody from hazbin hotel. It can be about anything

HEloooo

Alastor x teen reader platonic

Headcannon by @ghostly-one: "During Alastor's absence, Reader went to the overlord meetings in his place"

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

*knock knock knock*

You heard as you groaned and pushed your head up from your pillow.

"It's me, Y/n." You could hear the radio static through your door, "I have an errand to run and would like for you to join me."

"I'll be down in a minute." You replied as you started to get up.

------

"Oh, boy whats the plan, boss?"

"I like your suits."

"What are the antlers for?"

"Can I touch your ~staff thing~?"

"Are those your ears? or is it your hair? I can't tell."

The egg boiz were annoying the fuck outta you and Alastor. If you knew they would've tagged along, you wouldn't have come even if you were going to an overlord meeting.

"Hark Alastor, Y/n. How fare thee this day." Zestial appeared from nowhere in front of the both of you.

"Good evening Zestial, It's nice to see you again." You greeted with a smile as Alastor quickly threatened the eggs.

"Greetings Zestial." Alastor said as the sinners around you three started to take notice and run.

"Ah, the weather doth become this fine day."

"Indeed. Looks like we might have some acid rain this afternoon."

"If our luck doth hold! I do revel in the screams. How art thou? It has been an age since thou hath graced us with thy presence. Y/n hast been in thy lodging since thee've been gone." Zestial looked to you with a pleased expression as he patted your shoulder before continuing his conversation with Alastor.

"Some hath spun wild tales of you falling into... Holy arms."

"Hahaha Oh, I just took a well-earned sabbatical. Nothing serious. Though it's fun to keep everyone of their toes."

"There too hath been rumour of thy involvement with the princess and her recent flight of fancy. TELL ME, how does thou fall in such folly." Zestial would've creeped you out if you weren't used to his (and Alastor's) over-the-top and old-timey ways.

"That is more me to know. But please do guess. I'd love to know the theories."

"T'would be grander folly by far to assume the workings of your mind, Alastor. Thou hath been naught but an enigma since thy manifested in this realm."

"Coming from someone as ancient as you, I take that as quite the compliment."

The three of you made it the the building where the meeting would be taking place as you and Zestial stepped into the elevator you waiting for Alastor to tell the eggs to wait for him before pressing the button.

-------

You sat in between Alastor and one of Carmilla's daughters.

"Welcome, Hell sovereign overlords. I've invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of out city. Together you own millions of souls. Souls at risk with the new extermination schedule. We need to discuss what can be done to minimize the impact to our interest." Carmilla said matter-of-factly. "Zestial, so good to see you, my friend."

"Enchanted as always Carmilla." He said as he sipped his tea.

Carmilla was about to look around the room when she spotted Alastor. The face that she made nearly made you laugh.

"Alastor?"

"Yes, I know I've been absent some time. I'm sure you've all been wondering." Alastor spoke like he'd been waiting 7 years just to say that.

"Not really. But welcome back in any case." She dismissed him. You could hear the static abruptly stop and had to bite your lip so you wouldn't laugh.

Once the meeting started you zoned out staring at the wall. To be honest you didn't really care about the meetings you were only there to show your face and now that Alastor is back it gave you less of a reason to care, but interesting things did happen quite often.

Like Velvette wanting a war with the exterminators.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

Zestial translation: It would be much more foolish to think that I understand how your mind works, Alastor. You have always been a mystery to me ever since you came into this world. (just thought it would be nice to add this.)

@ghostly-one

This is choppy and rushed but parade season is starting soon and I have a lot of performances before then too.

[navybrat817]

Does Stud know what Smartie is getting him or will he try to get a hint?

He doesn't know, nonnie.

Cookies and Hints

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky tries to get hints about his gifts as you bake together.

Word Count: Over 1.1k

Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, teasing, implied smut, humor, slight feels (it’s me, okay), talk of celebrating Christmas, Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?).

A/N: More short and sweet for Stud and Smartie. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

There was something sweet about baking with Bucky. The kitchen became a hub for communication and collaboration as you made something tasty together. It was a way to be fully engaged and present with each other while creating new and happy memories. You looked forward to those moments together.

Even when Stud tried to drive you crazy.

You pinched the bridge of your nose before you scooped the last of the cookie dough onto the tray. “For the twentieth time, I'm not telling you what your gifts are,” you said.

You had just finished wrapping his presents this morning since you didn't want to wait until Christmas Eve. How you managed to sneak them in without him getting a glimpse was a proud moment since he was much stealthier than you. You wanted to surprise him and he was making it more and more difficult.

Especially since he kept giving you puppy dog eyes.

“First, I did not ask you twenty times,” he said, leaning against the counter as he watched you open the oven and carefully placed the tray in. “Second, I’m not asking for you to tell me what the presents are. All I asked for was a hint.”

“See, but if I give you any hints, you’ll figure out what they are,” you told him, setting the timer on the stove. “You're a smart man.”

“I appreciate the compliment,” he smiled almost sheepishly, which made you smile in return. He deserved all the praise. If no one else would give it to him, you would. “But I really think one tiny little hint wouldn't hurt.”

He doesn't know when to quit, does he?

“You were totally that child that went looking for your presents, weren't you? Wait, did you go into my room?”

Bucky placed a hand on his chest, a wounded look in his blue eyes. “Do you really think I'd go into your room without your permission?” he asked, the corner of his lip twitching. “I could also get the cats to ‘play’ with the wrapping paper. I mean, you can't blame them if they’re curious.”

Fair.

You thrust a finger in his face as you spun toward him. “James Buchanan Stud Barnes, don't you dare trick the cats into doing your dirty work. And I am not giving you a single hint and that is final,” you stated.

Of course, your attempt at intimidation didn't deter Bucky. Not when he locked eyes with you and wrapped his lips around the tip of your finger. You sucked in a deep breath when he flicked his tongue against it, the same way he did against your clit when he went down on you.

Oh, fuck.

As if he knew your womb clenched and panties dampened when he released the digit from his sinful mouth, he smirked and winked. “You sure about that?”

Jutting your chin out, you nodded. “Yeah because I used your full name, so… There.”

There's that stellar education of mine put to good use.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” you began, reaching over to grab the used mixing bowl with as much grace as possible when he tampered down a laugh. “I need to clean this and you need to stop distracting me.”

“You know we can clean together and you can still give a clue,” he pointed out, reaching for the bottom of his T-shirt as you walked to the sink. “And if I really want to distract you, I can take this off.”

“Keep your shirt on,” you ordered, thinking it over as you turned on the water. “For now.”

You faced the wall as you rinsed the bowl, determined to stay strong. You wouldn't break. Bucky didn't need any hints. Not a single one.

You straightened up when he came up behind you and placed a hand on each side of the sink. Why did he have to smell so good? You didn't turn around, but you felt your heart speed up as the heat rolled off his firm body.

“Come on, Smartie,” he breathed low against your neck, his nose brushing along your skin. “Just a little hint and I won't bother you for the rest of the day.”

Maybe I want you to bother me.

You closed your eyes and almost dropped the bowl when his lips followed the path. “You're not playing fair,” you whined.

He chuckled as he pushed against you, letting you feel the outline of his cock. “Neither are you,” he groaned when you moved your hips back against him.

“You started it.”

“And I'm more than happy to finish it,” he promised, gently nipping over your pulse. “As long as it's inside you.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Before you allowed him to do exactly that, you managed to spin around in the cage he made so you could face him. “You really want a hint?”

His face softened as he reached behind you to shut off the water. “Only if you really want to give me one.”

“Okay. Here it is,” you said, leaning in so your mouth touched his ear and smiling when he shivered. You wanted his heart to race the same way yours did. “Your gifts were all bought or crafted with love.”

It wasn't a clue at all, but it would tell Bucky all he needed to know. That no matter what you gave him, you selected and crafted them with care. Because he was your special guy and you wanted to spoil him a little.

The way he no doubt spoiled you.

You smiled widened as you leaned your head back. You thought baking cookies together was the happy memory you would make, but seeing the happiness in his eyes as he gazed at you warmed your heart. It was a look you cherished being on the receiving end of.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” he gently admitted, his gaze drifting to your lips before he closed the gap and kissed them. “Now that I have my hint, I need to taste you before those cookies finish baking.”

Yes. Spread my legs wide open and taste how sweet I am.

“Mmm. I may need to finish cleaning,” you teased, his large hands gripping your hips as he moved you away from the sink.

“Why clean now since we’re going to make it dirty?” He questioned, lifting you and placing on an empty spot on the counter. “And after I’ve had my fill, you’re gonna let me frost your cookie.”

“Bucky, no,” you giggled as he tugged at your pants, knowing full well you’d let him fill you up.

“Bucky, yes,” he smiled.

And as the scent of the sweet and sugary cookies filled the kitchen, that was exactly what he did.

We know he'll love his gifts. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[lovelybucky1]

Pass the Time

Kinktober Day 15: Praise Kink

warnings: AFAB!reader, vaginal fingering, fwb(?), dirty talk, smei-public sex, 18+ minors dni, inspired by @hanasnx's han dirty talk thoughts

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

You sit in the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon with your feet kicked up on the control panel in front of you. Han and Chewie sit in the seats closest to the windshield in similar positions.

You're bored out of your goddamn mind. Traveling from Tatooine to Dantooine takes forever, even in hyperspace. You're crossing the whole galaxy to get to the rebel base, but right now on the ship, you have nothing to do but wait.

You groan loudly and Han tilts his head back to glare at you. His arms are crossed over his chest and his eyes are half lidded like he was on the brink of sleep before you disturbed him.

"What's wrong?" Han asks, clearly annoyed.

"I'm bored," you say with a groan.

Han rolls his eyes while he sits up and spins around his chair to face you. He is slouched in the seat, legs spread obnoxiously wide.

"You can play cards with Chewie," he suggests, looking over at his furry friend. Chewie grunts in response. "Shut up, they don't cheat."

You narrow your eyes at the back of Chewie's head. If anyone cheats, it's him. "I don't wanna play cards."

"You could mop the floors." You cross your arms and give him an unimpressed look. "I don't know what to tell you, kid. I can't make this thing go any faster."

You groan again, leaning your head back against the chair. Han closes his eyes again, still facing you, trying to resume the sleep that you interrupted.

Making yourself busy is a difficult task on a ship full of nothing but nuts and bolts. You spun around in the chair for a while, considered taking a nap, and now you've taken to drumming a rhythm on the armrests of your seat.

"If you're gonna be a pain in my ass this whole time, you can wait in the cargo hold," he says, voice gruff.

His voice breaking the silence scared you but you quickly recover. "There's nothing to do on this rust bucket. What do you do to pass the time normally?"

Han stays silent but raises his eyebrows at you suggestively. Your face curls into an expression of disgust. "Not in my seat, I hope."

"Everywhere, sweetheart," he smirks.

Han turns back around and you're left to wait some more. Eventually Chewie retires to his bunk for a nap, and you take his spot next to Han.

The unending silence got you thinking, Maybe Han's way of passing the time wouldn't be so bad. Being bored does make you horny, and it's not a terrible way to kill some time, especially if you did it together. He's an attractive guy and it's always better with someone else, right? At the very least, you know he can please a woman based on the stories he tells when he's drunk.

"Han." His eyes flick over to you. "I have something we could try."

He stretches out his legs and turns to face you with a neutral expression. "What's that."

"We could..." he looks at you expectantly. Honestly, you thought he would pick up on your intention before you had to spell it out for him. Now you're not sure exactly what you want to ask for.

"We could, what?"

"You could help me... you know," you say, raising your eyebrows trying to signal to him your meaning.

"I'm not quite followin' you," he says, but the slight smirk on his lips makes you think he's playing dumb.

"You could help me get off," you blurt out.

A slow grin forms on Han's lips and he allows his thighs to part even further. "Well shit, kid, why didn't you just say so in the first place? Could've saved us all that time just then."

Han pats his thigh and you get up from your seat and step over to him. You perch yourself on his thigh and he wraps his arm around your middle to keep you stable.

Being close to Han like this should feel weird. You've been nothing but platonic up until now, but he's looking at you like this isn't the first time he's pictured you in his lap.

"You really wanna fuck me or are you just bored and horny?" he asks as his fingertips trace circles on your thigh.

"Will my answer change the outcome?" you ask.

"No," he smirks.

Han grabs your hips and positions you so you're straddling his thighs. His hands then drift down to your ass and he gropes you shamelessly, not caring when you roll your eyes in his face. He touches all over you and while his large, calloused hands feel nice, it isn't taking the edge off.

"I thought you were helping me get off," you say.

"I can't play with your pussy if your clothes are on, sweetie," he says smugly.

You stand up and begin to strip. You feel a little nervous under Han's gaze, but he's drinking you in like you're the best thing he's ever seen. You know that's far from the truth; he's fucked princesses and queens and every beautiful woman on every planet.

Before you have the chance to turn back around to face Han, he is pressed up against your back and walking you forward to the control panel.

His hand is splayed across your stomach and his chin tucked over your shoulder. "Always knew you had a nice ass," he says in your ear.

He slides his hand down your front to the apex of your thighs. His fingers tease along your mound, dipping low enough to get your heart racing but not enough to quell the rapidly building ache.

"You want it, pretty girl?" he asks. You nod, but apparently that's not enough for him. "Nah, you gotta use your words. If you can't be a big girl and tell me what you want then you don't deserve it."

You sigh and lean back against his chest. You can faintly see your reflection in the windshield, but it's hard to see with the bright lights of hyperspace behind the glass.

"I want you to make me cum."

You can feel Han smirk against your neck as his fingers slide down between your lips. "Shit, you're wet already. Have you been workin' yourself up over there this whole time or do I just do it for you?"

"Shut up," you breathe.

Han's finger makes contact with your clit and you gasp. Noticing that you're sensitive there, he avoids the area so he can save it for the grand finale. He touches every inch of your cunt, swiping his fingers through your wet folds and dragging the mess around.

"What's a good girl like you doin' with a needy pussy like this?" he asks. "'s enough to make me fall in love."

You elbow Han in the side but he only laughs. Mercifully, he dips his finger into your cunt and eases it inside, allowing you to get used to the stretch of his large finger. He groans into your ear like he's starring in some cheesy holo porn, but you can't deny that the rasp of his voice is hot.

"You don't love me," you say.

"Not yet. As soon as I get my dick in this cunt I'm gonna, though."

He fucks you with his finger slowly and the drag of it against your sweet spot makes you curl with pleasure. Even with one finger he has this much of an effect on you. You can't imagine what his dick would do to you.

He works you up to fitting a second finger inside, but it's a tight fit. You're cunt squeezes around his fingers as he tries to scissors them in an attempt to open you up.

"Tight as a fuckin' vice, aren't you, baby? You're not a virgin, are you?" You shake your head no and give a small whine in response. "Didn't think so, but what a fuckin' idea that is, huh? Pretty little girl saving herself for the smuggler who can show her a good time."

Han's lips attach to the skin underneath your ear, sucking a hickey shamelessly onto your skin. You squirm, but the arm around your waist keeps you from getting far.

"Don't run from me, sweetheart. I'm being good to you, don't you think?"

"Uhhuh," you reply.

"Damn, kid. Just a little fingering and you go dumb on me?" Han curls his fingers and rubs them against your g-spot while his thumb rubs circles over your clit.

You can feel your walls fluttering aroud his fingers and you know you're getting close. Han's hand grips your hip tightly and the possession and roughness he's displaying serves to bring you to the edge quicker.

"Han," you whine.

"Cum on my fingers, kid. Get 'em soaked like a good girl," he says. "Make Daddy proud."

[lulublack90]

Prompt 31 - Lock

@jegulus-microfic January 31 Word count 1755

This is it folks. I'm quite emotional. I really hope you all like it.

For my biggest fans @weirdtinkerbellversion @thedvilsinthedetails and @beautyoftheships I love you guys.

Previous part First part

All he could hear was white noise. His brain couldn’t process James’s words. His eyes found the bottle of wine, and he automatically poured himself a glass and downed it. 

He grasped the edge of the counter with both hands and felt his body shake. 

James remained silent, not wanting to push him. 

Regulus bit back tears and turned around, putting his protective mask in place, leaving his face devoid of emotion. 

“So that’s it for us then?” He stared at James with dead eyes, his voice a bored monotone. It made James shiver.

“I don’t want it to be.” Tears dripped down his face. “Reg,” He croaked. “I love you. I want to be with you. Lily told me this life-changing news,” He looked at his watch. “Four hours ago.”

“So, you didn’t know anything while I was arranging my return to England?” He sounded cold and accusing. He tried not to care. James shook his head. 

“No, Reg. I swear. I’ve only just found out.” James looked at him, features full of heartbreak. “You’re the first person I’ve told. Not even Sirius knows.” This shocked Regulus almost as much as finding out James was going to be a father. 

He smelt burning. He spun around and pulled the ruined dinner out of the oven. He threw it on the side and bit down on his lip. 

“James, I need you to go. Please.” His mask had slipped. It would be only moments before he broke down. 

“Reg—“

“Please, James. I need to figure out if this is the life I want. Kids were never my plan, and now…” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence, so he let it sit. 

“I’m so sorry, Reg. Nothing ever seems to go right for us. Does it? I really hope that changes.” His voice was thick as he continued. “Please remember whatever you choose, I will always love you.” With that, James left. The door hadn’t even banged shut before Regulus was sobbing. 

———————————————————————————

James’s chest hurt. What should have been a hopefully pleasant evening had turned into yet another nightmare. He looked up at the skies and called out to whoever might be listening.

“Could whoever is writing our story please give us a break?!” When he got no answer, he walked back to his empty house. Even Leo had gone out.       

His phone buzzed. 

‘Hey. Reggie just texted me and said you’d gone home already. Take it it didn’t go well then? Wanna meet for lunch tomorrow? Usual place?

Love ya

xxx’

He sent back a quick, ‘Yeah, sounds good to me. See you at noon x.’ He decided the best thing was to go to bed and deal with everything in the morning. 

***

James heard the sound of thundering boots coming up fast behind him. He began to turn, but before he could see what was happening. There was an almighty thud. He looked down at the pavement and sprawled across it. Hair in a wild mess was Sirius. 

“Trip over your laces again?” James said flatly. 

“Yup.” A muffled reply came from the heap on the floor. James snorted loudly as he bent to pick his friend up. 

Miraculously, Sirius had gotten away with only a slight graze on his cheek. 

“Is it true? Am I going to be an Uncle!” He shook James vigorously in his excitement. 

“I suppose so, I guess,” James said as he tried to escape Sirius's grasp.

“I’m godfather!” He burst out, bouncing up and down. 

“Sirius, we’re not even religious.” 

“Fine, fairy godfather, whatever. Either way, I bagsy it.” James sighed and clapped him on the back.

“You got it, you absolute crazy man.” He bent down and tied Sirius’s laces for him. 

“Awww, you’re gonna be such a good dad.” He gushed as he wiggled his foot, checking out his shoelaces.

“Come on then, let’s go get lunch. I had some amazing news to tell you.” James chuckled as he threw his arm around Sirius’s shoulder and continued down the street to the little cafe on the corner. 

Sirius didn’t stop babbling about all the baby things he’d googled and spouted off so much information that James felt his chest tightening in panic.

“I think he just needs time, you know.” 

“Hmm, what?” James had completely zoned out, picking his sandwich to pieces.

“I said, he just needs time. It’s a lot. But I really hope he picks you, mate.” Sirius said, taking James’s hands away from his decimated sandwich and squeezing them gently. He didn’t want to get his hopes up again, but he didn’t fight very hard.      

***

He was painting when the door went. He nearly fell off the ladder as he hurried downstairs to answer it. He was covered in paint, so he tried to touch as few things as possible. 

He yanked the door open, slightly red-faced, and lost all his breath when he saw Regulus standing there. 

“Hi,” 

“Hi,” 

“I’ve made my decision.” Regulus blurted out, not waiting to be invited in. James felt his mouth go dry.

“And?” His tongue was like sandpaper. He couldn’t take the suspense.

“I’m in,” Regulus said confidently. “Nappies, late night feedings, helping them plot their revenge on the school bully. All of it. I’m in.” Without warning, James flung himself at Regulus. He gathered him up into his arms and spun him around. He was bursting with joy. 

He suddenly dropped him and ran into his office. He rooted around in a draw and rushed back to Regulus, who was still waiting at the front door. 

“I got you something.” He held out the small box.

“What the fuck! James! Are you proposing?” Regulus’s eyebrows disappeared into the curls that hung over his forehead. James’s eyes widened.

“NO! No, No,” He opened the box. “It’s just a key!” 

“Oh,” Regulus sounded disappointed. James made a mental note to put a pin in that for later. 

“And what lock does this open, James? Your heart?” A playful smirk settled on Regulus’s mouth. 

“It’s a key to the house. So you don’t have to knock any more, you can come and go as you please. And—” He took a deep breath. He’d been preparing for this. “And if you’d like to—No pressure, by the way—But if you’d like to, I’d love it if you moved in with me.” Regulus took the silver-coloured key from the box and held it in his hand, staring at it, flipping it over in his palm. He looked up at James, a sweet, shy smile on his lips. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” 

“Okay, I’ll move in with you. Being away, I forgot how obnoxious Sirius is. I’ve had to buy earplugs to block out his nighttime noises.” He pulled a face, gagging slightly. James grabbed him in his arms again and lifted him into the air. 

“I love you,” He whispered across Regulus’s lips before closing the gap. 

Only when he set a breathless Regulus back on his feet did he remember he was covered in paint. He looked in horror at the cream-coloured paint splattered all over Regulus’s black coat. Regulus looked down as well. 

“Is that paint?” His eyebrow shot up as he questioned James. 

“Yeah, sorry. I was painting the room that’s going to be the nursery. Er, put your coat in the wash, and you can borrow one of mine. I’ll just go get changed.” He ushered Regulus inside and shut the door. Being very careful not to touch him again.

Regulus shrugged off his coat. 

“Did you get it finished.? He asked matter of factly. 

“Er, no, I didn’t. I barely even started. Only done about half a wall.” Regulus pulled his jumper off and started up the stairs. James chased after him and into his bedroom. But Regulus wasn’t there. “Reg?” He called out as he tried and failed to figure out where he’d gone. 

“I’m in the baby’s room. Where are you?” Regulus called back. James hurried out of the bedroom. Clearly, he’d gotten the wrong idea. 

Regulus, roller in hand, was making a start on the wall that James had started. He’d already accomplished more than he had and didn’t have a lick of paint on him. James leaned against the door frame, watching the man he hoped to spend the rest of his life with painting his unborn child’s room. 

He didn’t think there were enough words in the world to describe how much he loved him.     

———————————————————————————

Nine months later

“James, he’s beautiful.” Regulus hadn’t expected to feel this way when meeting baby Harry for the first time. The tiny raven-haired boy slept soundly in James’s arms. James grinned the biggest grin Regulus had ever seen on his face. He turned to Lily. “He’s amazing, Lily. How are you doing?” She looked exhausted, but she still had a smile for him and a cheeky wink. 

“You know me. Cup of coffee, and I’ll be right back up.”

“Do you want to hold him?” James asked him as he slowly rocked the baby to and fro. 

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Regulus said quietly. His palms felt sweaty as he looked nervously at the tiny, delicate bundle that was nestled in James’s arms. 

“You’ll be fine. Here.” James stood and awkwardly transferred Harry into Regulus’s arms. 

He looked again at the tiny baby and felt a protective love surge through his body. 

Harry fussed in his arms, and he instinctively began to sway. Harry opened his little mouth in a perfect O and settled back down. He was so in love. 

There was a quiet tap at the hospital door, and Sirius’s face popped around it. 

“Can we come in yet?” He whined. James nodded.

“Yeah, of course you can.” 

Sirius rushed in, followed more slowly by Remus. They crowded around Regulus so they could get a good look at the baby. 

“Look, Sirius,” Regulus said, pulling his gaze away from Harry to look at his brother. “Isn’t he perfect?” Sirius wrapped an arm around him.

“Yeah, Reggie, he is. Now give me a turn!” Reluctantly, Regulus handed him over and went to stand next to James. James pulled him in close, wrapping his arms around him as they watched Sirius and Remus quietly argue over how long Sirius got to hold him before it was Remus’s turn. Lily had fallen asleep. She was exhausted after the long labour. It was peaceful. 

James leant his chin on Regulus’s shoulder and whispered in his ear.

“How you doing, Papa?” Regulus’s heart melted.    

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

A Little Angel (Or Devil?) Chapter 3

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Story Summary: Matt and Reader, happily married at the end of Angel of God, my Guardian Dear, start the next chapter in their life together -- parenthood.

Warnings/Tags: Smut, Unprotected Sex (I mean obviously, Matt and Reader are trying for a baby), Pregnancy and all that comes with it, no graphic depiction of childbirth

Word Count: ~1200

A/N: Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

Tag List: @nommingonfood

FlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutterFlutter…

Matt’s head tilted curiously as he stood in the kitchen cleaning up after breakfast. He had been hearing the same strange fluttering sound off and on all morning and he was starting to wonder if a butterfly or something had gotten into the house. 

Whatever it was, he wanted to try to get it out before the dining room furniture was delivered in about an hour. He and Y/N had already both taken the day off to deal with accepting and arranging their new furniture, so he didn't want to have to also be spending all day trying to locate then shoo out whatever was flitting around the house as well. “What is that sound?”

“What sound?” Y/N asked as she came up the stairs from the basement. “I don't hear anything.”

Matt listened closer, the sound growing louder as Y/N walked into the kitchen. “It's a fluttering noise. Kinda sounds like a butterfly or a hummingbird beating its wings -- oh.” 

Holy shit.

Suddenly it all made sense… the intoxicating change in Y/N's scent, her nausea and fatigue over the past few weeks, the butterfly --

Not butterfly. Heartbeat .

Matt slowly walked towards Y/N, focusing on the sound that he now realized was coming from her abdomen. 

He took her hand. “Sweetheart,” he said carefully, “I've been thinking about how you haven't been feeling well for the past few weeks, and um… have you considered the possibility that you might be pregnant?”

Y/N took a surprised step back. “What? No, no, there's no way, right? I mean, my cycle hasn't even really had the chance to get back to normal yet.”

Matt shook his head. “I don't want to get our hopes up in case I'm wrong, but you might want to take a pregnancy test just to make sure.”

Y/N took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay, I -- I actually bought a couple while I was at the pharmacy the other day so I'd have some for when we might need them, but I definitely didn't think it'd be this soon.”

Matt nodded. “Where are they?”

“They're upstairs in our bathroom cabinet.”

“Okay.” Matt bit his lip. “Do you, um, do you want some privacy while you go do that?”

Y/N took his hand. “What? No, of course not. Positive or negative, we find out together.”

They headed upstairs to their bathroom, where Matt spent the longest ten minutes of his life waiting to find out if he and Y/N would be growing their family. 

After the alarm on Matt's phone went off Y/N picked up the pregnancy test off of the bathroom sink, her free hand slipping into Matt's.

“Well?” Matt asked nervously. “What does it say?”

Y/N sucked in a breath, her heartbeat quickening. “It’s positive.”

Matt's heart leapt with joy. He had been pretty sure, but to have the news confirmed… “Yeah?”

Y/N let out a watery laugh. “Yeah, it's clearl y positive. I'm pregnant.”

“You're pregnant… You're pregnant!” Matt picked Y/N up and spun her around. “We're going to be parents!”

He gave her a kiss. “Oh my God, I love you so much, angel.”

Y/N kissed him back. “I love you too, Matty.”

Matt tilted his head curiously as she started to giggle. “What's so funny?”

Y/N gently patted Matt's chest. “Of course you'd knock me up immediately after I stopped taking my birth control.”

Matt smirked and wrapped his arms around Y/N's waist. “Well, we have been practicing quite a bit, and you did say that you could tell that the Murdock genes were strong.”

Y/N laughed again. “Yeah, yeah, I know your inner caveman is proud of your ability to procreate so easily. How'd you even figure it out?”

Matt smiled softly. “I can hear the baby's heartbeat.”

Y/N let out a soft gasp. “Really?”

Matt nodded. “Yeah, I'd been hearing it off and on all morning, but I finally realized what it was after I pinpointed where it was coming from.”

He knelt on the floor and lifted Y/N’s shirt up, then nuzzled his nose to her bare stomach before giving it a gentle kiss. “Hi, baby,” he said. “It's Daddy. Mommy and I just found out about you but we love you already and can't wait to meet you.”

Y/N carded her fingers through Matt's hair. “Not too soon, though. We want baby to be fully developed before we welcome them into the world.”

She pulled out her phone. “That reminds me, I should make an appointment with my doctor to get official confirmation from her and make sure everything's okay so far.”

Matt nodded and stood. “Let me know when it is and I'll go with you if you want.”

Y/N gave his hand a squeeze. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Matt waited as Y/N called her doctor's office. "Hi, yes, this is Y/N Murdock, and I need to schedule an appointment with Dr. Miller… I think I might be pregnant and need to have it confirmed. Yeah, I took a test at home this morning and it was positive. Mmhmm, mmhmm, yes, yeah, that's perfect. Okay, see you then. Thanks. Bye."

Y/N hung up. "Dr. Miller actually had an open appointment slot at 2 o’clock this afternoon."

Matt grinned. “That's great. Hopefully we'll have the dining room furniture all in place by then, but if not I can finish dealing with it while you go to your appointment.”

Y/N hummed. “Good thing we're still furniture shopping since we'll be needing to turn one of the spare bedrooms into a nursery sooner than we anticipated.”

“So when do you want to tell everyone? After your appointment, obviously, but I mean how long do we want to wait before we start spreading the news?” Matt wanted to immediately tell all of their loved ones that they were expecting, but he understood if Y/N would want to wait until she was further along.

Y/N was silent for a moment. “I want to tell Aunt Ruth in person but I don't want her to be the last one to find out, so maybe we can get everyone together while she's in town for her birthday in a few weeks and tell them all then.”

Matt nodded. That was completely reasonable. “Okay, yeah, that sounds good.”

He placed a gentle hand on her stomach. “I still can't believe it. I'm so happy, angel.”

Y/N set her hand on top of Matt's and gave him a tender kiss. “I am too, Matty. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Matt turned towards the doorway as he recognized the now-familiar sound of the furniture delivery truck pulling up. “The dining room furniture is here.”

Y/N hummed. “Too bad we’ll have to wait until after my doctor's appointment this afternoon to break it in.”

Matt huffed out a laugh as they headed back downstairs. “Oh, don't worry, angel. I'll make absolutely sure it was worth the wait.”

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Stampede Wolfwood got Metaphorically Isekai'd (No This is Not a Shitpost)

Oh my god if this winds up being part of my legacy I'll probably cry.

So. Everyone who's watched the new show knows that Wolfwood is introduced by getting hit by Meryl's van in the middle of the desert where he is literally the only thing to get hit for miles around. What an entrance. Welcome to the team buddy.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Stampede Episode 4. At an above view, the van has spun, unfortunately sending the trailer back part crashing directly into Wolfwood. He is starfished face-first into it, rather comically. End ID.]

It's funny as heck, but, since I am deranged, I'm gonna try and convince you that this is not only an isekai joke, but that the basic premise of an isekai actually applies fairly well to Stampede Wolfwood in the first season... but then a lot of the standard tropes are made into notable and tragic subversions. Also please note I have never actually watched an isekai anime so maybe take all this with a grain of salt. Or several. (Also isekai is a really broad genre. I'm talking specifically about the tropiest things to come out of it - please don't take what I'm about to discuss as representative of the entire genre!)

In the manga, and I believe in the 98 anime as well, Wolfwood is spotted by Vash while him and the insurance girls are travelling on a bus. He is out in the middle of the desert, and so thirsty and exhausted he's initially mistaken for dead. Vash and the girls manage to cause enough of a ruckus that he is literally saved (which echoes the influence they, but especially Vash, will have on him later on), and they all end up on the bus as him and Vash become acquainted - the start of their companionship, and the start of their journey together (being quite literally on a moving vehicle). In the 23 anime, it all seems set up to give us the same intro: there is a vehicle, Wolfwood is clearly exhausted from trekking through the desert, Meryl and Vash are there... and then, suddenly -

[ID: Two screenshots from Trigun Stampede Episode 4. In the first, Wolfwood is walking with Punisher across the sand with a bright blue sky background. He does not see the van coming into sharp focus on a direct path towards him. In the second, Meryl, in the driver's seat, looks out with a shocked expression. Roberto's hand has reached over to grab the wheel. End ID.]

Pfft. Sorry I had to rewatch this to get the screenshots and I swear it does not get any less funny. Anyways, Wolfwood gets hit instead of getting rescued, but the end result is the same - he ends up in the vehicle and his journey with them begins.

So. Why the difference?

Well, I can only really speculate, and honestly it was probably just for the humour of it, but I do have another (deranged) suggestion.

See, Wolfwood in the manga is a little different from Stampede's Wolfwood - he's a lot friendlier for one (though no less trying to scam people), and he's got a little bit more self-made purpose (protecting and providing for the orphanage), even if he still lacks true agency. Stampede Wolfwood, by contrast, is a lot more aimless. He's on constant survival mode, which makes him a lot more openly abrasive right from the get-go, more cavalier about his own life (smokes way more than in the manga, takes bullets when there's actually no reason to), and a lot less in control of his outward persona (there have been many observations I've seen on how he's not the best at holding back his emotions - imo I don't think manga Wolfwood is especially good at that either, but in Stampede, it's really obvious).

Stampede Wolfwood also plays up his "monstrousness" a lot more in front of people, which is probably the most significant difference to me. Manga Wolfwood... doesn't exactly try to hide it, but he tends to take a "well, somebody had to do what needed to get done" attitude, like a kind of tired "I know there's no going back and I know I've turned into a monster. This is all I know how to be now. Somebody has to make the hard calls." But he feels shame about it all the same - look at how he puts his sunglasses on whenever he's about to do something he finds reprehensible (well, except the Ninelives fight... but no one was around to witness him there). It's made pretty explicit later that the glasses are a way for him to say "don't look at me. don't see what I've become".

Meanwhile, Stampede Wolfwood never takes the glasses off. He's much more upfront about the threat he poses - calling out Vash for not watching his back, outright saying he could've shot him - not a smart move when trying to earn someone's trust. His teasing, when he does it, isn't quite as playful, and has a bit of a bite to it. It's almost like he wants to be hated; like he's torn between justifying the necessity of his actions and convincing others that he is just as much of a monster as he feels.

I really think the key differences have a lot to do with their respective situations. Wolfwood in the manga... he got out, for a bit. He couldn't go back to the orphanage, but for at least a little bit, he wasn't under the Eye of Michael's thumb, he did get to meet people outside of missions and travel a bit, and was acting on his own intent... until he ended up pulled back into it because of Knives. Stampede Wolfwood has been under their control since he was taken from the orphanage. Everyone he loves is a hostage. He's taken on the name of his weapon and has known nothing else except this world of darkness - there's very little to imply he's travelled or spoken to anyone without it being for some mission. He's under consistent surveillance.

This "babysitting" mission, then, is something very different from his usual. It's not an assassination. Even more so, it's putting him in close contact with people who are not part of the world that he inhabits, the only one he's known since he was taken, which kickstarts significant changes in his life. You could even say he's been... transported to a different world than the one he'd lived in up to this point...

Enter Truck-kun. Or, rather, Van-kun.

Alright, so what is an isekai? Essentially, it's a wide-ranging genre where the protagonist gets transported or reincarnated to another world (usually regular world -> fantasy/sci-fi world), and typically involves an ordinary person becoming important/powerful in this new world - the genre is, a lot of the time, a mix of power fantasy and wish fulfillment.

Obviously, there is no literal transporting to another world here; it is still very much the same world (I'll bring up why this is important later.) But it's notable that Wolfwood remains very much the outlier in their group - he does not blend in, and his methods and approach are very different to that of the rest, who do not come from the same "world" as him. It's the start of a pretty drastic change in situation for him. It's why I really wish there were more episodes showing his dynamic with the group before it all went to hell - I bet he was so awkward.

The next thing I want to mention is that if you thought I was going to be arguing that there is a standard isekai parallel here... well I lied to you. A lot of the common tropes actually get subverted in kinda heartbreaking ways.

Usually the protagonist of an isekai (not always, but often) is some kind of chosen one. They are able to excel in situations that others cannot, and it's usually because they bring some kind of skill or knowledge from their old life that the people in the new world, obviously, don't. They tend to become ultra powerful, well able to take on any of their challenges in this new world, with advantages others don't have.

This doesn't sound like anything to do with Wolfwood after being hit by Meryl's van. But it sure sounds an awful lot like him after being taken by the Eye of Michael.

He is transferred from his comparatively normal life to one straight out of a sci-fi horror. He's a chosen "Child of Blessing", ranked "S+". He was able to survive grievous harm and experimentation, "excelling" where most other hapless kids did not. What did he bring with him from his old life that none of the people in his new life seem to have that allowed him to survive in the way he did? Well... he had something to protect didn't he? That's how he continues to struggle on. This is far from the sentiment shared by people like Conrad and Legato.

And so Wolfwood becomes ultra powerful - his body is fast, strong and resilient; he's efficient and good at what he's been trained to do. But this is far from anything he wanted. The power fantasy is subverted. Wolfwood is powerful enough to handle pretty much any threat that's thrown at him... but all it does is isolate and alienate him, and make him feel like a monster. Another aspect of isekai is that freedom one gets from being able to start over and become someone closer to their ideal self in a new setting - that's the wish fulfillment part. Well, Wolfwood has never been further from free, or less like the person he wishes to be. He hates everything he has become, but can't get out. Unable to change his situation, and increasingly jaded and disillusioned, Wolfwood takes on the moniker of "Punisher" and gives up on his old self. "Wolfwood" has effectively died.

Other than "transfer" isekai, there is also another kind - the "reincarnation" isekai. I'm not going to even touch bringing up the premise of reincarnation with a guy who carries around a giant cross on his back as I am far from qualified (knowing very little about Christianity at all), but I think it's worth noting that Wolfwood's arc (in all iterations) has much to do with his ever-present conflict with Vash over morality, but also just as much about his struggle to reconcile the person he was with the person he was forced to become, and if there is such a thing as forgiveness or redemption for him.

If "Wolfwood" has died before the story started, then he is "reincarnated" over the course of the story as he slowly starts to find himself again, with the kickstarting impetus being him getting hit by Meryl's van.

The changes don't start instantly. He wakes and things seem relatively normal - the plan is working, there's someone obviously suspicious of him - all stuff he's probably very used to. And then Vash goes and completely blindsides him.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Stampede Episode 4. A close up of Vash's face in the dim lighting, with eyes softened and a smile. End ID.]

"I can see it in his eyes."

Okay, so we all kinda giggle a little bit here because who the hell says that to some sketchy guy wearing dark sunglasses in a dark cave-like area when you've only just met, but I really want to stress that this is probably the first truly positive interaction Wolfwood has had in years... and I think Vash is well aware of that.

Wolfwood starts the transition from darkness to light... quite literally.

Almost all of Wolfwood's defining scenes are in the darkness of night, in contrast to the brightly lit desert in the day - think of when he moves away from the fire to speak to Zazie at the end of his intro episode, and assassinates the EoM traitor at the beginning of episode 6. In episode 5, we also get this:

[ID: Two screenshots from Trigun Stampede Episode 5. In the first, Rollo has Vash pinned to a metal wall by his neck. The sun can be seen between the two of them. In the second, Rollo lies dead on the ground. It is now night, and Vash stands over him, head low. Wolfwood stands a distance away. End ID.]

As Vash tries to speak to Rollo, to talk him down, the sun, though setting, is bright and illuminates both their faces. This all comes crashing down, literally, as Wolfwood takes the shot. Rollo falls, the sun stops shining on him, and by the time they all reach his body, night has fallen and the world is in darkness. The light goes out for Rollo... and in Wolfwood's eyes, for him too. He shot out of mercy, after all. He's living a nightmare he sees no escape from nor feels deserving of escaping from - worse, he feels as though he's a part of that darker setting, dragging it into their journey along with him.

However, we've established the lens of the "reincarnation" isekai for the purposes of this analysis, and along with that usually comes a way to compensate or reconcile for missed opportunities or mistakes made in the past by becoming something closer to one's own original ideal - sometimes this can even be a literal starting over, by being reborn into one's own younger self. And that's the importance of what Vash says to Wolfwood in episode 4 - he sees the potential in Wolfwood; the old self he thought had "died" a long time ago. Vash knows he's not the person he's been made to become and encourages him - not to do as Vash does, but to do as Wolfwood actually wants to do but thought for the longest time as hopeless. After all, what is a blank ticket if not a second chance or a new lease on life?

On the sand steamer in episode 6, the scene starts off in daylight once again, but after Wolfwood realizes the new assailant is Livio and we see their backstory, the snap back to the present scene is at night, and the scene darkens as the situation becomes more dire... and as Wolfwood comes to the conclusion that he will have to kill his brother.

But as Zazie's bug, or "eye", gets shot by Vash deflecting what would have been a fatal blow to Livio... suddenly, Wolfwood is free to act without the EoM's ever present surveillance. This is a serious step to severing the binds to that old life, and, as Wolfwood ultimately does not want any harm to come to Livio, he finds another way. And the sky starts to lighten again.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Stampede Episode 7. A close up of Livio's face with a distant, pensive expression. A wisp of smoke trails underneath as the pinkish hue of the sunrise is seen in the background. End ID.]

Of course, while this does succeed in waking him, it doesn't actually save him. But it is enough that Wolfwood decides to try letting a little bit of hope back in - to acclimate, even if just a little, to Vash's ideals, or his "world". Wolfwood's wish, to protect the orphanage, is (temporarily) fulfilled - in broad daylight, and without the death he'd been so accustomed to in his old "world". While he outwardly denies it, angrily telling Vash that he is no longer "Wolfwood" and instead merely "the Punisher", that "I'm not like you", the episode's title card, which appears directly after this exchange, does not agree.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Stampede Episode 7. A black background with white text; the title card for the episode that reads "#07 Wolfwood". End ID.]

He's more himself than he's been in a long time.

In that sense, going back to my insane original premise, we can say that he was isekai'd once by transfer, turning him into someone else... then isekai'd again by reincarnation after he thought his old self dead, helping him to start on the path to finding that younger self and that hope he thought he'd lost. It's a double subversion, in a way, as the first is far from wish fulfillment, and the latter is actually a restoration - a realization that as he slowly starts to transition to the light, he actually never left this world at all when he was changed against his will. He's not a monster of the dark. He still has a place in this lighter world.

Heartwarming, in a way, but also kind of heartbreaking, as if he hasn't truly left this world then there are still consequences.

Wolfwood, after this, still has to complete his contract. He didn't actually get out.

And Vash, for all that he appears to be someone "not like" Wolfwood, is actually far more similar than he'd initially suspected - Vash, too, came from darkness. The Big Fall happened at night. And even as Wolfwood's world grows lighter, Vash's grows ever darker as what he has tried to stave off bleeds into the light, culminating in the events of July, which take place entirely at night, and are truly Vash's darkest hours. Rather than Vash being some naïve creature of a lighter world that Wolfwood cannot reach, he is instead another person from darkness who is struggling for the light all his own.

Because of course, there is no "lighter world" or "darker world". No true "travel" between the two. Just one world that is both at once. And what one finds in it is dependent on what one chooses to read into their circumstances. A kinder, brighter world isn't something they can simply get isekai'd to. It's something these characters have to struggle to make a reality - it's what Vash does, it's what Meryl takes a stand for, it's what Wolfwood, deep down, wants to believe is possible. Hope is something you build yourself, etc.

Anyways, I can't believe I just wrote all that. I think I'm losing my mind. If you came out of this going, "Story, what the hell are you talking about?" then... well. Me too. Thanks for reading anyways!

[your-divine-ribs]

Ice Cold Part 7

Words: 2.8k

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear… I’m the jealous type” 💙

Ice Cold Masterlist Main Masterlist

I slammed my hand down on the desk, my anger borne out of the frustration I felt at being temporarily pulled out of the field. I knew this kind of investigative work was key, but if the adrenaline wasn't flowing through my veins whilst I was in pursuit of my target I didn't feel alive.

I should have just been thankful that the convoluted and quite frankly far-fetched story that I’d fed Paul had been digested and believed, but I was restless, the ache inside me intensifying as I flicked through files containing photos of Van.

"Is this really necessary?" I addressed my boss as he came to a stop behind me, peering down at the photo I held in my hands. "I mean you and I both know I'm better when I'm out there."

He let out an audible sigh, pulling out the empty chair next to me and sitting down, leaning into me, hunched over, like he didn't want anyone else to hear the conversation.

"You were lucky the last two times, but one day your luck's going to run out. And I don't want to be the one responsible for sending you out there when it does."

Now it was my turn to sigh. "It kinda comes with the job. If I'd wanted safe and predictable I would have gone for a job in bloody accounting or something!"

He chuckled but it was short-lived, replaced by a stern kind of seriousness as he replied. "Don't underestimate the good work you're doing here. If we can get inside McCann's head we can calculate his next move. It's the only way we're going to stand a chance of catching him. It's like chasing a bloody ghost. He's running rings around us."

I pulled out a file on possible targets, leafing through. There were a lot. "This is impossible... Where do I start? I just don't have the patience for this. Please Paul... I know I fucked up... again. But it'll be the last time."

Paul got to his feet. "I must admit, you're the only one who's actually got close to him. But it's too soon for you to be out there. I don't know what he's playing at but I don't like it. Holding you hostage to try and make a deal?" He huffed. "He doesn't make deals. No... there's something else... there has to be. I just need to work out what it is..."

He looked off into the distance like he was searching for an answer there, and I was just relieved he couldn't see the heat that had risen to my cheeks from the lies I’d spun him.

"I'd getter get on anyway..." I mumbled, head down to pore over the files.

Paul walked away, still muttering to himself.

The long days sitting behind a desk weren't the only tedious parts of the job I’d been temporarily assigned. I had to face night after night in my pokey flat rather than staying in various hotels, with nothing but the television and a bottle of wine for company.

This wasn't me. I didn't do Saturday night TV and an an early night. I was restless, and by my second glass of wine I’d picked up my phone, opening up the Tinder app.

The first twenty profiles I flicked over were no-hopers. Hmm... this one had potential. I paused to read his bio. Looking for romance... Fuck that! I scrolled past thirty more, sighing and reaching for my wine again.

Oh... now this was more like it. He had an angular face and hair that hung long around his ears. Blue eyes. I held the phone away, scrunching up my eyes. If I squinted hard enough he could almost pass for...

Stop it Lyla!

What the fuck was wrong with me? I had to purge myself of this sordid fantasy before something bad happened. And this would probably be a good start. Within ten minutes I’d connected with 'Andy' and arranged a meeting at a pub in the city centre within the hour.

I shot upstairs to the shower, grabbing my razor to ensure sleekness everywhere and then I was poring over my underwear, choosing a sheer black lace set and slipping a tiny figure-hugging black dress over the top. I adjusted my cleavage in the mirror, taking in my smoky eyes and my cherry red lips, puckering up and blowing a kiss at my reflection. A little fizz of excitement shot through me as I stepped into my heels and made for the door.

The pub was loud and busy and my heart sank as I walked in and recognised Andy sitting at a nearby table. He shot me a wide smile with dazzling white teeth and stood up to greet me, air kissing me and hugging me warmly in an all too familiar way. He was certainly a good-looking guy but he just looked too... nice... clean-cut. I smiled sweetly at him, noting his eyes flitting down to my cleavage before he asked me what I wanted to drink. Well, at least that was a good start. God, why were men so easy to read?

Within half an hour we’d settled down with our drinks and were chatting easily. I’d spun my usual web of lies, telling Andy I had a dull job in marketing and my hobbies were shopping and watching Netflix, and he'd preened and postured about his senior role in investment banking, flashing his Rolex and the thick wad of cash in his wallet as he'd offered me yet another drink. I just went along with it, biding my time, fixing him with that wide-eyed slightly vacuous look as I hung on his every word, playing up to his ego.

I sighed as he got up to go to the bar, scrolling through my phone. It was always the same. Men were so... predictable. Most men anyway... Not like Van.

I couldn't help it. I flicked through my gallery, scrolling through the pictures of Van that I’d saved from recent assignments. Shit... the way even looking at a photo of him made my belly flip and heat radiate through my body.

"I thought we should move on to champagne next..." The voice snapped me out if my daydreams and I hurriedly locked my phone and looked up to see Andy hovering over me with two champagne flutes and an expensive looking bottle.

"Ooh lovely!" I injected fake enthusiasm into my voice. "Are we celebrating then?"

Andy flashed me his pearly whites as he took the seat next me this time rather than the one opposite that he'd been occupying. "Well... let's just say it's not every day you swipe right on a girl like you Lyla. I'll be honest with you. Most girls I've met up with just seem interested in the contents of my wallet. You seem... different. I know we've literally only just met, but... I don't know... there's something about you that intrigues me. I want to get to know you better."

My smile didn't match the sinking feeling in my gut. This was the last thing I needed when I was simply after some no-strings attached fun. I obviously needed to take a different approach.

So I fixed Andy with a steady gaze, slipping my hand on to his upper thigh under the table, squeezing it gently. "Look Andy... don't take this the wrong way... you seem like a really great guy... but I've just come out of a relationship. I'm really not looking for anything... serious. Can't we just have a bit of fun tonight?"

"Oh... errr... yeah...." Andy faltered, glancing down at my hand which was inching higher and higher as I spoke. "It's just that you seem like such a nice girl..."

Nice? I caught my bottom lip in between my teeth, leaning into Andy, my hand slipping up to his inner thigh right between his legs, making him jolt.

"Maybe I'm not such a nice girl..." I whispered breathily into his ear.

I heard his breath catch in his throat and smiled to myself. "Shall we go back to mine?" I purred.

Andy's eyes widened and he looked flustered for a moment, his mouth opening and closing rapidly. God, I hoped he wasn't one of those weak men...

I closed the distance between us both quickly, pressing my lips to his, felt him shiver beneath my touch. When I pulled away he was still looking shell-shocked but now wearing a slick of my glossy lipstick.

"I... err... yeah… sure… we can go back to yours... I just... errr... I'm just going to the gents okay?"  He stumbled to his feet and I drained my glass, tapping my nails on the table top... waiting.

My phone vibrated and lit up with a text notification, and I casually picked it up. It was an unknown number. Probably just some junk or a wrong number. I opened the message...

Lyla you ARE a bad girl...

Fuck! Anxiety ripped through me, my heart almost short-circuiting. My mouth suddenly went dry as I craned my neck, looking around the crowded pub, searching every face I saw and drawing a blank. Then I realised I was sat near a large window and I turned in my seat to look out. It was hopeless, the light from inside the pub made it impossible to see out into the night. However I could imagine how clearly I was lit up to anyone looking in. Like a shop window with the goods on display.

"Shall we go?" Andy's voice made me jump and I whirled around. Suddenly the prospect of stepping outside with this almost-stranger didn't seem so appealing. If Van was lurking in the shadows... but that was a ridiculous notion. Wasn't it?

"I... errr... I need to go and... use the ladies before we go..."

Now it was my turn to stumble over my words. I shot up out of my seat on shaky legs, grabbing my bag and coat and making for the door which led to the corridor where the toilets were located. I came to a stop, rapidly typing in a reply and hitting send.

Where are you?

I breathed deeply, willing my heart to slow down as I suddenly saw the tell-tale dots appear on the screen that indicated a reply was being typed.

Maybe I didn't make myself clear. I'm the jealous type.

"Shit!" I mumbled under my breath, starting to pace up and down the corridor.

I considered my options. I could ignore Van and take Andy home, try and act like my life wasn't really spiralling out of control at the behest of this dangerous man I hardly knew. Or I could ditch Andy and go home alone. Be a good girl... for Van. But then what?

I acted without thinking, glancing back once but then walking purposefully forward, pushing through the fire escape located at the end of the corridor and out into the night.

It was cold now and my breath came in frosty plumes. I shrugged into my jacket and made for the street, stealthily creeping past the open pub doorway so Andy wouldn't spot me.

The city centre was busy, full of groups of late-night drinkers, all going about their business, raised voices, smiling faces, not a care in the world apart from where their next pint or cocktail was coming from. I, on the other hand, was hurriedly making my way down the high street, glancing furtively around, checking the shadows in every shop doorway as I passed. I was shivering and it wasn't just from the chill evening air.

Maybe I should text him... or call... I quickly dismissed the idea. What a ridiculous thought! A dangerous assassin wanted in several countries and here I was, entertaining the idea of encouraging him. And to what end?

I knew what I should be doing. He'd left himself wide open contacting me on a phone number that my team could trace within minutes to a precise location. They could handle the trace whilst I called him... maybe I could keep him on the phone until one of the team could swoop in and capture him. Dead or alive. This could all be over tonight. But I didn't.

I was only five minutes from my apartment now so I picked up the pace. I’d left the hustle and bustle of the city streets behind and I was in a quiet residential area. My heels made loud clip-clop noises on the pavement as I pounded along, my breathing coming hard and fast, fear and anxiety spurring me on to get to the safety of my home as fast as possible.

I suddenly heard loud heavy footsteps behind me, and a strangled cry erupted from me as I stumbled to the side, my stiletto heel catching on a crack in the pavement.

"You alright love?" The male voice sounded right next to me and I looked up to see a young man dressed in running gear jogging on the spot.

Relief flooded me. "Yes... yes... I'm fine. Thank you." I blurted, then just as he was about to take off I called to him. "Um... excuse me? Gosh I am so sorry but I think... I think I'm being followed. Would you mind just walking with me? I only live on the next street."

The words tumbled out without me even thinking about them and I shocked myself. I’d trained with the best. Learnt the techniques to incapacitate much bigger, stronger people than Van. I’d come up against heinous gang members and murderously aggressive killers twice my build and still brought them to their knees. There was just something about Van that made me feel like a frightened little girl.

The kindly jogger agreed, chatting animatedly all the way to the end of the road, but it was a one-sided conversation. I was too busy glancing around, hoping I wasn’t leading this poor, unsuspecting man into some kind of danger.

There it was. My apartment block, right up ahead. The lights glowing from behind the curtains and blinds looked inviting. A safe haven.

"This is me... thank you so much! That was really kind of you!" I gushed to the man.

"That's okay love! Done my good deed for the day. Don't like to see a lady in distress! Are you sure I can't walk you to your apartment?"

"No... no it's fine... honestly," I assured him, forcing a smile. "State of the art security here. No one gets in without the key code!"

"Well if you're sure... goodbye..." And then he was off, waving goodbye.

I swiftly turned and pressed my key fob against the panel, simultaneously keying in the code, heard the quiet bleep and the catch engaging. My heart beat wildly as I pushed through the door, then I slammed it quickly shut, a sense of relief coursing through me as I looked out into the dark night. Safe at last.

My heart rate was already slowing as I called the lift and got in, hitting the button for floor number 7, resting my back against the wall and tipping my head back. I was covered in a light sheen of perspiration from my fear and exertion and I pushed my hair back, fanning myself with a hand.

The lift arrived and I cautiously peered into the corridor before stepping out.

Don't be silly Lyla, you're safe now.

I’d worry about the fact that Van may have potentially followed me and now knew where I lived tomorrow. He likely already knew anyway. Maybe I could go and stay with my aunt... my mum was out of the question but my aunt was nice and undemanding. She'd understand. I’d not seen her since... I pondered this as I fished my apartment key out of my bag and pushed through into the dark hallway, flicking on the light. Was it July? No... August. It was November now. Oh well, she knew I wasn’t one for staying in touch regularly. My mind was whirring with thoughts as I started down the short corridor to my kitchen....

And froze in my tracks...

The first thing I noticed was the faint smell of cigarette smoke. I stood stock still, hardly even daring to breathe, my ears straining to pick up the slightest noise. There was none. But there was that feeling, that spine-tingling sensation of a presence, the fine hairs raising on the back of my neck. I knew I wasn’t alone.

[instantartific]

“Please don’t leave me… I won’t last long without you…” with Eloni please?

|ও ELONI: "Please don't leave me... I won't last long without you..."

708 words |

contains heavy themes of possession and obsession, implied kidnapping. |

This one isn't too polished, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! I originally had quite a few ideas, but... settled on this eventually.

✧

"Maybe you don't have to go this time?"

It was torturous, every moment apart from him, as cliché as that sounded. Whenever you had the pleasure of frequenting Barraca, you were greeted with music, laughter, and your darling tending to your every whim. Even if you tried telling him it isn't necessary, he insists it is. The others have surely chided him for it just as much as you may have tried yourself. He does so nonetheless and strives to do whatever he can to make your stay even better than the one before, given the short windows that him and his brothers can call "free time." Less of that is time the two of you can spend together. Yet every now and then arises the opportunity to slip away to his room and relax.

The only thing more torturous is whenever you try to leave. Every time, regardless of your reason, he pulls you in just a little bit closer and holds you that much longer, as if he could convince you to stay only with the warmth of the mechanisms and cogs in his chest.

And now, it's different.

Now, he pulls you in a little bit closer, holds you that much longer, and takes so much care in easing his head into the crook of your neck.

"Please don't leave me."

A soft plea that rumbled from his speakers, hardly audible to the human ear, but audible nonetheless. It wavered and jittered in that off way their stitched-together voices sound, yet simultaneously, there was something… raw to it. It tittered on the edge of something humane.

If you tried to move. If you said something back, if you did anything to indicate that you heard what he said:

"Please—Please just listen! I shouldn't have—I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," would babble out his mouth as arms snake around you ever so tighter, weight and warmth pressing in to your back. As gentle as his touch is, one thing is glaringly clear: you couldn't move even if you wanted to.

"I was gonna talk to you about it instead of just saying it. About how when you're not here, I don't know what—I don't know what to do with myself, y'know? I don't know how long I'll last if you leave for a long time again."

His voice distorted further, now beginning to skip and jump and devolve into a glitching, distorted mess.

"But that's not your fault! I know that's not your fault. It's mine. So I thought maybe if I made everything perfect I could make you think about it—s-staying, I mean."

The longer he spoke, the more those whirring mechanisms in his chest began to roar. The more they spun, they clanged, they begged, they pleaded. And the warmth grew. And it grew uncomfortably hot. And he held you even tighter.

"Because, I can do everything for you! I can learn how to do the m-mundane human stuff so you don't have to, if you'd help me! I could convince Dad to start getting the food you like and he can show me how to cook, and you could stay here—" his vocalizer whined quietly, his arm lurched beneath you—"and you don't have to keep leaving me. I know you don't wanna leave me, so if I do the stuff you needa do, you don't have to. You don't have to be like the other ones. You can stay!"

Something began to hiss deep within his chest; a ticking—ticking—ticking serpent biding its time, waiting and preying on the words you'll say next.

"I just get so worried when you're not here. But I can keep you safe! I can take care of you! You won't ever have to get hurt again! I can be and do everything for you and everyone here already loves you!

I- I really, really love you."

If you knew what's best for you—what he knows is best for you—then you'd only be compelled to ease his woes, tell him you know how much better it would be if you stayed, let him think you'll never leave.

It would be better off if you never did.

At least… not until that serpent isn't waiting, preying and ready to blow.

[rainydayathogwarts]

ᴄᴏᴡᴏʀᴋᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴇx ᴘᴛ.3 (ꜰɪɴᴀʟ) - ʀᴏʙɪɴ ʙᴜᴄᴋʟᴇʏ

pt. 1 | pt. 2

I'm sorry this took so long for me to write, I had the weirdest two weeks of my life and exams are coming like now.

I hate this but I also love it.

wc: 1.3k

Summary: I'm not telling you, you need to go read the first two parts!!

Warnings: Internalised homophobia, angsty? Idk they get into an argument. Reader gets defensive quickly and is kind of a bitch.

@gracieluvthemoon @darkd3sire

"Hi" She breathed out, looking over your shoulder and into the room ahead, clearly searching for some sort of distraction. "I'm so glad you're here. Oh-come in. Sorry" You rushed, moving out of the doorway to let the rosy cheeked girl in.

Your eyes caught on the car she had come out of in the background, vaguely similar to one you had spent sleepless nights in. A red BMW. Steve's red BMW. Realising you'd been looking at him, Steve awkwardly waved at you and you clenched your jaw, stiffly raising a hand to say 'hi'.

Why on earth was he so close to her? I mean, of course, they were friends even while you were dating. In fact, Robin was the reason you broke up. Not because he caught feelings for her, because you did. But what if he had as well? Or what if he moved on too quickly? Why did they just suddenly get closer once you two called it quits?

And then you were regretting decisions you made all over again. Maybe the looks Robin gave you were purely platonic and you had misinterpreted them to be something more. I mean no one, no one, liked someone of the same sex. No one but freaks and Robin was in no way, shape or form, one of those.

You snapped back to the present just as you heard Robin muttering a quiet "Oh, hi Nancy." You didn't have to turn around to see Nancy's curt nod back to Robin. Cringing internally, you spun on your heels, kicking the door shut and dragging Robin towards the living room, where the party took place. Next to you, Robing held her breath. Everyone in the room was from your inner circle, meaning either she would have a terrible night with people trying to make small talk with her or you really did like her the way she thought you would. "Could I get you a drink?" You ask, already making your way back to the kitchen. Following you like a lost puppy, Robin enters the kitchen, where you kick out some boys trying to steal one too many beers. You open one, taking a sip and offering the bottle to Robin. She crinkles up her nose and takes it from your hand. She brings it close to her face, before taking a drink from it and scrunching her face in disgust. Hearing your giggles, Robin opens her eyes, and quickly gives you the bottle back when you offer to take it. "How about some punch?" You suggest, and Robin eagerly nods. "So," She starts. "Literally everyone here is pretty much a jock. Why am I here?" You raise an eyebrow, trying to mask the blood rushing to your face. "Please, have you seen Nancy? What about her is a jock?" Robin opens her mouth, trying to argue back, but her cheeks flush a dark pink and she closes it again. "I-fair point. But come on Y/N, I'm a band kid! I've shared classes with some of these people, but I bet if you asked one of them who I am, they won't know." You sigh, putting your drink down. "Well, does it matter what they think if I'm the one who invited you? I just wanted people I like here, but if you really hate it, you can go." You clenched your jaw, looking straight into Robin's eyes, trying to keep your face blank from any emotions. She furrowed her eyebrows, shaking her head, and started speaking even as her eyes glossed over with wet tears. "Steve says you do that when you're upset. Your jaw goes tight and you give people that mean stare until you start to cry and they have no idea what they've done wrong."

You scoffed, picking up an empty beer and throwing it in the bin. "Did he? Well I'm sorry you're so obsessed with my ex-boyfriend who asks me out again every single week that you'd come here to talk to me about it! I don't know what's happening with you guys, or what you think is happening, but he doesn't like you that way, I can tell you that! Did you just come here to mock me? To show off that you know him just as well as I do? To rub it in my face that you're the one who's with him everyday and not me? To make sure I know that you're the one listening to his dumb stories and listen to him talking about weird things he's noticed about people that any normal person wouldn't catch on to!? Is that it? Well like you said Robin, you're just a band kid, and that means nothing here!"

You're panting, tears running down your face and you aggressively rub the back of your hand against your nose. It goes scarily silent, the only exception of sound being your panting and the blaring music playing outside this door.

Ten minutes.

Ten minutes was all it took for you to throw out any chance of being in a relationship with Robin, and that was clear from the tears falling onto her rosy cheeks and the way her mouth fell open in shock at what you had said. "God, I-I can't believe it." Robin starts, and you can tell she's going to start ranting with the way she shakes her head faster than your eyes can keep track of. "I can't believe I thought you liked me. Like, not just like me like a friend like me, but like me like you liked Steve like me. But you just- you just like the attention don't you?"

"No, no Robin please."

"This entire time you just figured it out didn't you and you thought it would be amazing to keep not only my hopes high but Steve's, who continued to believe day by day that he still stood a chance with you while you played with my feelings, having me thinking that out of any universe, it would be this one where you liked girls."

You shook your head slowly, bringing up both your hands to rub at your eyes and mess the makeup you had spent a good hour putting on. "You could not be more wrong." You muttered. "You know why I broke up with him?" You asked, wiping the mix of makeup and tears on your trousers, and walking around the kitchen island to stand nearly chest to chest with Robin.

"I broke up with him because every time I walked into Scoops, I became more excited to see you than I was to see him. Because every time he took me into his arms and gave me the most amazing kiss I could ever dream of, I was hoping it would be someone else who did that. But clearly we don't feel the same way so feel free to leave."

You gestured to the door, but one of Robin's hands came up to cup your cheek and pull you into a soft kiss. Reluctantly, one of your hands came to rest on her hip as you returned the kiss, and you hooked a finger around her belt hoop, bringing her body closer to yours. You pulled away panting, Robin's eyes as wide as saucers. "Holy shit."

"I-uh, I'm sorry. For-" "No, no it's fine. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that about liking attention and stuff. How about I make it up to you with uh- ice cream?" She asked.

You cringed. "Uh, as long as Steve isn't there. I think ice cream dates are forever ruined for me now."

[literaticat]

The "these publishers are kids at a school" question but ALL THE OTHER PUBLISHERS, please and thank you #hilarious

OK well not all of them, come on. But a lot of them!

Here's PART ONE if you missed it -- the question is, if various publishers were kids in a school, how would you describe them. Bear in mind that THIS IS ALL FUN AND JOKES AND VIBES, don't come at me, I'm not insulting anyone, I love the publishers! xoxo

PART TWO:

FSG Macmillan – A serious-minded girl but never a stick-in-the-mud, FSG is the daughter of two professors (English Literature and Sociology). She goes to a Waldorf school, so she doesn’t watch TV or anything, mostly she does art with potatoes and leaves and things, though unlike many Waldorf kids, she learned to read quite early on her own. Her parents give her the run of their library, and she has a flair for the dramatic and can recite just about anything so it will give you chills. She’s also passionate about social justice issues; she’s allowed to take the subway to rallies and protests with friends, where she brandishes her home-made signs with gusto!

Roaring Brook Macmillan – FSG’s younger sister. She’s more of a sporty type, plays soccer, and is outside all the time – if you don’t know where she is, you are likely to find her up a tree with skinned knees and a bunch of weird rocks in her pocket. (She also gathers the raw materials for FSG’s art). She’s too young to take the subway without an adult but she IS allowed to have a knife, with which she whittles funny little woodland creatures that look like they could come alive. It’s really a gift!

Holt Macmillan – Roaring Brook’s twin brother. A rough-and-tumble lad with a sweet but slightly naughty disposition. The prank situation is LIT at their house. Like his sisters, he’s a Waldorf kid – but unlike them, this dude is desperate for screen time! He is not allowed to take the subway, but he IS allowed to go to his neighbor Scholastic’s house, at which he watches all the TV shows and plays all the video games he can possibly cram into his eyeballs – his parents pretend not to know. He is NOT allowed to touch his sister’s knife!

Scholastic – He’s in public school, where he’s the class clown. He still has an imaginary friend, an invisible big red dog which he says he rides to school and who stays on the playground while he is in class. When he’s not looking out the window, he’s cutting up and getting into scrapes. His parents are the school principal and a librarian, and they are a little worried that he’s having TOO much fun, but also don’t have the heart to discipline him. He’ll grow out of it! Holt is his buddy.

Balzer & Bray HarperCollins – Twins! These girls are little private-school influencers already – they travel all over, they are sophisticated beyond their years but still like to have fun – they just have quite a polished way about them. They were raised by their mother, a Disney-channel celebrity turned ‘mommy-blogger’ who featured the twins heavily in her social media and gave them this shiny, commercial persona, but now they have spun off into their own thing. Their grandfather is a meglomaniacal billionaire who, we assume, is friends with Tr**p. Let’s not mention it, they certainly won’t! They don’t take the subway, they get Uber Blacks.

Greenwillow HarperCollins – More introverted than her sisters or best friend FSG, and might seem like a head-in-the-clouds dreamer if you don’t know her – but really, she’s low-key funny and brilliant, just somewhat introverted, and not a show-off – she just keeps her head down and does consistent, great work -- but very much on her own timeline, not really paying attention to other people's expectations. (She also plays tennis solidly -- not heading to Wimbledon or anything, but she's really good. And, she can throw darts expertly -- who would have thought?) She’s probably going to be the one who suddenly goes to college at age 14 or wins the Amazing Race or something and everyone’s like “huh! Didn’t see that coming!” She doesn’t take the subway, she walks.

Clarion – Recently adopted into the HarperCollins clan as an older kid, she does feel a little like she needs to work to keep up with their fast talking and inside jokes, but she does well most of the time and is learning to fit in. She’s just a little more serious – but luckily for her therapist, she doesn’t have the baggage of having been raised with the billionaire. She is also into social justice and slam poetry, and I don't want to embarrass her, but she may have a little crush on both Abrams *and* FSG. In the family, she gets along best with her sister Greenwillow, and walks to school with her.

Knopf – this girl is CLASSY. Like you know how sometimes people are described as “American Royalty” or something? That’s Knopf, babe. Glamorous, a bit mysterious, superb taste, plays piano and flute expertly, aces the tests, everyone wants to be friends with her or pretends to be friends with her. Even adults perk up when they see her coming – the power! She and Little Brown are often vying for the same awards, lacrosse titles, class prez votes, etc. Her parents are a reclusive movie star and the scion of an old-money New York family, but nobody has ever seen them, not even the nosy PTA moms – the rumor is that they live in their villa in Lake Como full time and Knopf lives alone in NYC in a houseful of servants. (There is some truth to the rumor, but it's not the whole truth). She doesn’t take the subway, she has a driver.

Random House BFYR, PRH – (goes by Randi because her real name is a mouthful let’s be honest). A bubbly, vivacious kid who brings a smile to people’s faces – she’ll probably be a cheerleader when she gets to high school. She’s a good friend, popular and outgoing, but unlike her cousin Knopf, there’s little mystery to her – she’s really an open book. Her parents are a doctor and a SAHM, she loves puppies and baking cupcakes and wants to be on a kids baking reality show OR an animal rescue show. She does Girl Scouts, and she's on the soccer team with Roaring Brook. She doesn’t take the subway, her mom drives her in their Volvo and picks up her friends, as well. 

[ageless-aislynn]

For the writers emojis ❤ 💕 🎬 please?

Aw, thank you so much for sending me something! 😁

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

Ooo, that's a tough one, kinda like trying to choose your favorite child, right? But I have to say that one line that I know for sure that got a lot of mentions is from "Side Effects" (John/Kai, Halo) NSFW chapter 2 . It's John's response to Cortana telling him to say something complimentary to Kai during a rather, ahem, intimate moment. I don't know why, but I can just HEAR him earnestly, sincerely saying what he then says to Kai. 😳😂 I had quite a few people respond with varying degrees of AISLYNN, ZOMG, to that one, lol!

(For those who haven't read it and don't want to jump into a very graphic fic, I'll summarize by saying that he tells her she has a very lovely body part that most people don't end up getting complimented on in polite company. But he's so SINCERE about it and they're so comfortable with each other that she's not insulted or offended or anything, and that it honestly makes it feel rather sweet to me. But I'm the weirdo writing this smut stuff so I don't know if my judgment is 100% correct here or not, lol!)

💕 What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Obviously, I love all of my bbs BUT... There are a few that are just a little nearer and dearer to my heart. So I won't feel so biased towards my latest works, here are ones from the couple of fandoms I've written in: (in alphabetical order😉)

Arrow: "Five Times Oliver Held Felicity (And The One Time She Held Him)" (Olicity) - This one just... I don't know. We were still pretty earlier in the show and I had NO idea if they would ever become canon or even get a kiss at this point. This was just all a bunch of my own wish fulfillment moments put together in a fic. I also could've mentioned a line from it for the above answer (if my brain hadn't immediately gone to the Naughty Place™😳😉):

He held her like she was spun-glass fragile and infinitely breakable, but he knew the truth. Between the two of them, she was far, far stronger in all the ways that really mattered. She always had been.

Doctor Who: "Balancing Act" (Ten/Donna) NSFW - My very first multi-chaptered fic (and for many years my only one). I learned so much writing this one and I had such an amazing time with all of the wonderful friends I gained from them interacting with it! Plus, I loved getting the chance to fix Donna's unfortunate fate in a bawdy yet romantic way. 😉

Halo: "15 Minutes" (John/Reader) - I was still feeling-out writing Reader fics when I did this one (which was originally just a one-shot) and... *beckons you closer* if it feels a little more like an unnamed OC instead of a reader insert, that's because that was what it was originally going to be. 😱😁 I made the decision to go as a Reader fic very late in the thought process and ultimately, I'm happy with the choice. However, yes, that does mean that the Reader, at one time, had a name. But no, I can't tell you what it was. 🤐😉

The Flash: "By Any Other" (Eobard/Frost) - I have a LOT of Flash fics and they all mean something to me for one reason or another but, looking back, this was the first one where I really FELT my own connection to the characters. This was written in season 1, we had no idea for sure if we would be getting Caitlin as Killer Frost, so I decided to make my own version. Her powers were obviously more inspired by her comic book version, then altered further by me. What I ended up loving about this particular pairing, though, was something that wasn't planned at all: Caitlin is by far the more broken of the two of them in this series. I don't have any plans to add any more fics to Partners In Crime but, at the same time, I don't want to mark it finished. I like to think that these two are still existing out there somewhere in the far fields of my imagination, getting into trouble and loving each other a lot. ❄⚡

🎬 If a movie or show were based on your fic, which fic would you choose and who would you fancast?

Ohhh, mannnn, the possibilities! 😂 I mean, some of my fics would have to go straight to, like, HBO Max or worse, lol! But, trying NOT to pick from my unrepentant smut-fest fics...

"The Thousandth and the First" (Eobard/Caitlin, The Flash) is definitely one I would've loved to have seen actually portrayed on screen. It's one of my most "complete" fics in many ways: it's not just all jokes and laughs but it does have humor, it's not all smexy tiems but it does have some R rated love scenes (not nearly as graphic as some of my rated E/NC17 fics, though), it has a bit of sadness, it has some hard decisions and, ultimately, it's the only "realistic" way I felt I could redeem Eobard within the constraints of this story for the evil he had done.

Secondly, because I'm ignoring the fact I was supposed to just pick ONE, lol... You might know it used to be common for shows to have, like, 24 eps in a season and have time to do things like what-ifs? I'd love to see an episode of Halo where "Trust" (Kai, Cortana) showed us how things could've played out if Kai would've been the Blessed One instead of John and thus ended up getting Cortana in his place.

I think they would be a formidable pair, lol! 😁

Since all of my work is based on shows, I'd just leave the casting as it is. 😉

Thanks again! 😎👍

Fanfic Writer Ask Game

[aspd-culture]

I really don't want to being this up with my therapist so I kinda wanted to vent here and ask you if this sounds like aspd.

Kinda a disclaimer I have Aspergers, ADHD and depression diagnosed as well as trauma from being hospitalised (psych ward) quite young also big ass trigger warning

The thing is I relate heavily to all if the symptoms like I can place them personally onto myself and things I do.

I've been a serial liar since I was child, ppl irl even now don't ken the the real me I've spun a web of lies ab myself, nothing of great grandeur, just to cover up the tracks of things I don't want ppl to know as well as I enjoy lying frankly

I have low empathy, i always kinda have done. I've never really felt that pain I just can't muster the energy to give a fuck, I really don't fucking care, like that's a you problem it doesn't concern me nor does it threaten me so I don't care.

I've never felt remorse for my actions I feel like if I harm someone, lie, or manipulate them they kinda deserve it and ik that they probably didn't but they hurt me or they hurt my image or my reputation so they have to pay, they have to know that I have that power over them.

I often get violent urges and thoughts, most of the time in the form of a day dream if sorts. TW but I really wanna beat someone into a pulp esp if they thought I was weak or they doubted me/angered me. I often ponder the question to myself that if I did kill or harm someone like that would I feel something or would I get a similar feeling to when I fantasize ab it, would it scar me for life? Would I realise I was wrong? I mostly do this to try ground myself as I've gotten in some rlly nasty fights before because it ended up being all I could think about.

I've broken the law many times either through selling, buying or doing drugs. Shoplifting and pickpocketing (haven't been caught yet ab any of these ones) as well as multiple charges of assault.

I lie to people I consider my friends about caring ab their problems or opinions and I can't keep friends for particularly long unless their drug buddies

However I think I can feel love in a romantic/sexual sense but I think most of my past relationships have been nothing but obsession mixed with the fact I like having someone who cares that much ab me and I like having a lot of sex. Like I need you to be mines, if they even mention they find another person attractive then i just want to fucking maim someone. You can only be mines until I get bored of you. Then as soon as I get bored all feelings towards them cease and I gotta fake that I'm upset.

I do a lot of things that are considered "morally bankrupt" according to my therapist but I always feel like I'm not a bad person, I just can't let people know I do bad person things.

Sorry for the vent

Alrighty gotta start this off with a real quick boundary about a term you used. Please do not use the term Asperger's when talking to me (ideally, not at all). It is a literal N*zi's name. I also hate the aspie supremacy aspect of it, but honestly that's not my main issue with it, my main issue is that term literally means "not disabled enough by their autism to be gassed so let's give them to our freakshow n*zi doctor so he can experiment on them until they die that way". Thanks. /nmay just frustrated by the use of the term. I know not everyone knows.

That said, I am still ok with answering the rest of the ask for you. I cannot diagnose you, and anything I say here is really just info I'd advise you to take to your therapist, not a way of avoiding talking to them about it.

One major part of ASPD that you didn't mention at all in your ask is disregard for safety/wellbeing of yourself; you just mentioned others. PwASPD not only have trouble avoiding putting others in danger, but themselves too. We tend to get ourselves into situations we can't easily get out of, start fights we know we can't win or haven't considered if we could win, etc.

Another big thing that I noticed in your ask is an egocentric way of thinking and speaking that is not super common in ASPD. Arrogance is an associated trait, but usually people I've talked to with ASPD have a more complicated relationship with the justification for the things they do (justifying to yourself to avoid responsibility is actually a symptom of ASPD) as well as with their self-esteem. That said, many of the symptoms you're talked about here definitely do seem to match up with some of the criteria...

I wonder if it's possible you relate to the symptoms of either just NPD or both ASPD and NPD? I am by no means an expert in NPD and I don't know you particularly well but just answering basing off of the wording of your ask and such I would advise you do research into that as well as ASPD. They can be comorbid. In fact, because the way that cluster b disorders develop are all relatively similar (trauma and failure to develop a secure attachment style), it's somewhat common to have more than one of them.

I hope this helps.

[septembersghost]

I never understood why taylor was THAT heartbroken with jake untill I read an article about dating older men. They have much more life experience compared to young girls. These girls would do everything they can to impress them and would put them on the pedestal. While I don't think jake was grooming her I think he was a bit of a narcissist who enjoyed her idolising him. He also made sure he had the power in that relationship without her realising it. She never felt she was 'enough' to please him and he always pointed out things he didn't like about her.[source begin again and IBYTAM].It is also interesting that the same taylor who wrote mean let someone devalue her that much because she was in 'love'. I think Taylor calling him 'twin flame' wasn't because of their mutual great love but as a result of her idolisation and lack of real dating experience.Him being her first might also play into it. If 25 year old Taylor dated him there is no way he would inspire something similar to red even if she hadn't fallen in love with anyone else yet.(Sorry for the rant. My head is kind of a mess right now with all these points)

you can rant! i'm sorry when it takes me a while to reply.

so i'm going to approach this somewhat differently, because i always understood her depth of heartbreak on red, but sometimes i think that's because she and i are wired quite similarly in certain respects (or i over-empathize, which is probably it). taylor is a highly sensitive person and a romantic (she's a loves love romantic, she's also a capital-r Romantic), she feels things deeply, she also badly internalizes pain and harm. i think you have to factor in not only the power dynamic at play here, but also what happened directly beforehand (namely, john). that was a far more sinister situation, but it...spun her out, and she may have sought something that felt mature and beautiful not only as a way to escape it, but as a way to affirm to herself that she was worthwhile. it's not uncommon for victims of abusive situations to land in something similar (and i believe john was abusive on some level). jake seems like a reprieve after john, a better choice - older but gentler, more of an intellectual, not perceived as a "bad boy" - until you scratch beyond the surface. she had no way of knowing that until it was too late. earning love and respect from a man like that is going to feel validating and even like a bit of a high, especially after a different older man you idolized made you feel damaged and worthless.

honestly i think in a lot of situations, even with very different dynamics, we go grasping for anyone that might make us feel loved and embraced after someone else we loved does severe damage. when i was struggling terribly with overlapping kinds of loss and difficult transition in my life, i gave all that love to someone who severely traumatized me, and the situations with both the person i was trying to recover from and the person who ended up making it infinitely worse are totally different from what happened with taylor, but speak now and red have also always resonated with them completely. i was 22 (a very, very sheltered and shy and naive 22. though sometimes i am still that now due to circumstances!), and i just wanted someone who would cherish me and listen and understand, and thought i had found that, and it was absolutely not the case and was instead...VERY dark. i have intense self-worth issues and am also prone to people pleasing to an extreme and and am also very soft-hearted, and the combination of all the things that happened to me made me want to die. because the feeling of loss and rejection came from people i loved. people who said fate had brought us together, people who called me a soul mate, people who i thought would always be in my future, and then they drew their daggers and aimed for my heart.

the difference between the entirety of red and a singular track like mean is in that emotional attachment. she really, completely loved him. the belittlement, the warning signs, none of that registered initially, because the love felt powerful. she didn't have any emotional attachment at all towards the subject of mean, he's just a cranky jerk critic. some man saying something about her professionally and activating her sharp pen is not at all similar to intense heartbreak from a man she was in love with and dreamed of having a future with and felt was as close as home. and not trying to defend jake here (because. ugh), but i do think he loved her. i just think he, as she has said, had his demons, and didn't know HOW to love her without also being damaging and condescending and unstable. (he said once part of why he was awful in the relationship is because he loved her too much and was scared, and i tried to find this but instead stumbled across something that made me furious asdkjdkjf). the point is that it was mutual, but he was fucked up and ultimately hurtful. i don't think she's deluding herself when she notices all the moments he loves her too, that's...the thesis of all too well. it was rare, you were there, you remember it. that's sad beautiful tragic, i almost do, the last time, state of grace. all that was very real for her, and you don't tend to feel that unless it's returned. there's a massive contrast between the way she writes about jake and the way she writes about john (who did not return her love), even though ultimately both end in ruin and heartbreak. and when she couldn't earn the value and respect she craved, she kept going back to him for the intimacy because at least that was something they had, and i think...a lot of harm came from that too. imho it's not quite beholding the entirety of the story of red to think that love wasn't mutual, and that even he was hurt despite it being of his own damn making. the tragedy isn't one sided, he's integral to it. i know the guys who hurt and used and mistreated me, and who were liars and narcissists, also, unfortunately, loved me. it makes the ache worse. it makes the scars deeper, and the wreckage harder to sift through, because people who love us aren't supposed to hurt us. but sometimes they do, and it's awful, and it's not our fault. and sometimes we love people much more than they do us, and more than perhaps they deserve, but it doesn't make that not real. would've could've should've isn't love, but the beginning of maroon is. dear john isn't love, but all too well is. ours and superman really idolize their subject, but i'm not sure i'd say that anything on red is quite as starry-eyed as it is longing. she loved, and she yearned to be loved as much in return, and she wasn't.

with begin again, this was posted, and it speaks directly to this subject. "there was something dark and adult about what i had experienced. you should keep some element of childhood - that wonderment and ability to laugh." my breath caught a little at, "home reminds me of comfort, and comfort was what i never had in the previous relationship" because it...adds context to/belies "used to call home"/"felt like home" in that she believed she had comfort, but it always turned dark, turned to tears, turned to put downs. it made her feel special, then it made her feel small. when you think you've found a home with someone...when you think you have that twin flame with them, that soul connection, you do anything to convince yourself to keep it, until you can't because you're going to disappear or burn yourself down. a soldier returning half her weight. did the love affair maim you too?

also i wouldn't necessarily say that 25 year old taylor is more substantively different than 20/21 year old taylor, except she was battle-scarred and weary and jaded. she was sadly still with someone who didn't see her worth and made her feel like she was never enough. she was still with someone who belittled her art and talent. i think she felt dead and hopeless inside for quite a while (which breaks my heart), and every single one of those situations is connected. (harry doesn't have the diminishment aspect or the disrespect towards her of course!, but the tumultuous uncertainty still took a real toll, especially following jake.) i have a feeling that was all she felt she deserved, or all she'd ever really have. anxiety or loneliness. until joe. (a string that pulled me out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar, something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire, chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons). all that said, i don't doubt for a moment that all the love she's felt and given has been very real for her, and that's why she's so gifted at putting it into words.

[kousagi7hikari]

An Enigmatic Blessing

(A TGCFxPokemon Masters EX AU)

One day, on the island of Pasio, a new trainer arrived-as they often did. This trainer was a bit unlike any other on the artificial island, however, though one wouldn’t be able to tell just by looking at him. There was something about this trainer, as though he exuded an air of royalty, or perhaps wisdom. It was as though he was a prince from a kingdom long past. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself that gave off this impression, or the way he spoke. Maybe it was his partner pokemon, a Liligant with long legs that hadn’t been seen in many, many years.

“So this is the island of Pasio!” The man, named Xie Lian, said, adjusting his well-loved bamboo hat so it cast shade over his eyes. “It’s amazing that people can build islands nowadays! Don’t you think so Lilligant?”

The pokemon beside him spun around delightedly and let out a coo of agreement.

“The invitation said to find Trista at the pokemon center once we arrived here. Let’s go.”

Liligant nodded and followed her trainer.

Once the two arrived at the center, they found Trista quite easily. “Welcome!” She said warmly. “Is this your first day on Pasio?”

“It is.” Xie Lian replied, removing his hat respectfully. “My name is Xie Lian, and this is my partner pokemon Lilligant.”

Liligant curtsied.

“It’s nice to meet you both!” Trista smiled kindly before turning to her computer and entering the name. “Here you are! And here you go!” She reached under the desk and pulled out a rectangular device that looked similar to a Porygon. “Your Poryphone with a sync stone!”

Xie Lian stared at the device awkwardly for a moment before saying. “Ah… Thank you, but I'm not very good with technology…”

“I’m sorry, but it is required for anyone participating in the PML.” Trista explained. “It’s both a safety feature, and the sync stone is important for battles conducted here.”

“What is a sync stone?” Xie Lian had heard of Mega stones and even Z crystals, but this was new to him.

“It’s a special stone that allows your partner pokemon to unleash a new kind of power!” Trista said, delightedly. “They’re only used here on Pasio. With a sync stone, the power of your bond with your partner pokemon can allow you to use a sync move! They’re really quite a sight to behold!”

Xie Lian smiled at this. “Well, that’s something I’d very much like to see!” He took the device and looked it over.

“I can teach you how to use it if you like.” Trista whispered.

Xie Lian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Yes please. Thank you.”

Later that day, elsewhere on Pasio…

Lear grimaced, holding back the urge to growl. “Who does he think he is?”

“Yeah, he’s like, soooo rude!” Rachel pouted.

“Especially to the young Master!” Sawyer agreed.

The man they spoke of was already in the midst of a battle, having all but ignored Lear’s issue for a challenge.

The man was quite enigmatic, nobody could tell which region he came from, though the Beautifly he was partnered with suggested Hoenn. His crimson clothing, adorned with silver chains, and eyepatch only added to his air of mystery.

“I did look up his PML profile like you asked.” Sawyer said. “It says his name is Hua Cheng.”

“Tres Bien! He must have come from quite far away!”

The trio turned to see Professor Bellis arriving beside them. “Do you know where he comes from?” Lear asked.

“Nein.” She shook her head. “There are many places that use a language similar to his name, so pinning it down would be quite a challenge.”

“Laaame.” Rachel said. “And he didn’t even wanna battle Master Lear? Like, does he think he’s too good or something?”

The group watched the battle progress in silence as “Hua Cheng” stood against a collector and his Hitmontop.

“Hmm… This battle is getting boring.” Hua Cheng sighed, a slight smirk grazing his lips. “Let's finish this with our sync move, Beautifly. Soul Rending Silver Wind.”

Beautifly fluttered eagerly releasing the full power of their sync move, knocking out the opposing Hitmontop in one hit.

The collector flinched in surprise. “I-I hadn’t even gotten started!”

Hua Cheng examined a fingernail as Beautifly fluttered back to his side. “Oh really? All of these battles have felt the same to me.”

The collector sneered and backed off into the crowd, carrying his pokeball back to the center.

“I mean really.” Hua Cheng practically yawned. “Isn’t there anyone here who can give me a proper challenge?”

“I’d be up to the task.”

The gathered crowd turned to see who had spoken, but Hua Cheng reacted much more quickly, his head snapping around to the sound of the voice.

Xie Lian simply smiled politely, but it widened upon making eye contact with Hua Cheng. “Hello again, San Lang.”

Hua Cheng looked surprised, but he quickly fixed his face, though some could tell he seemed to be trying to hide his true emotions. “I’m glad to see you again, Gege.”

“Gege?” Lear asked.

“San Lang?” Sawyer followed up.

“Gege is a form of familiar address to an older male.” Professor Bellis explained. “It, as well as the nickname imply that they know each other and are at least good friends.”

“Who is that guy?” Rachel added.

“It looks like he just arrived on the island today.” Sawyer said, looking up the information on his poryphone. “His name is Xie Lian.”

Xie Lian took up his spot across from Hua Cheng, his Liligant stepping out before him. “I’m looking forward to seeing how much stronger you’ve gotten, San Lang!”

Hua Cheng smiled, his Beautifly gliding out to face Lilligant. “I certainly hope I can meet Gege’s expectations.”

“As long as you don’t hold back!”

With that, the battle began. The two beautiful pokemon engaged in combat that looked more like an intricate dance than fighting. It seemed as though the two were evenly matched. For the longest time, it seemed the battle could go on forever, until Xie Lian announced. “Lilligant! Let's try our sync move!”

Lilligant crooned in response and backflipped over to her trainer, absorbing the power of their sync stone.

“Flower Crowned Petal Dance!”

The blizzard of pink petals obscured most of the area for just a few moments. When it cleared, Hua Cheng’s Beautifly lay on the ground, defeated.

However, Hua Cheng did not look angry or upset, but rather accepting of his loss. “As expected of Gege. It seems we lost.”

The crowd chattered amongst themselves. The trainer who had been defeating sync pairs left and right had been taken down by this new arrival??

Xie Lian crossed his arms, casting a look at Hua Cheng. “San Lang, I told you not to hold back!”

“I swear, I gave it my all, Gege!” He said, recalling Beautifly to its pokeball. “...Well… perhaps I did want to see your sync move with Lilligant.”

Xie Lain crossed the battlefield to Hua Cheng and gave him a light poke to the chest. “So you did hold back!”

Hua Cheng chuckled slightly. “Apologies. I promise that the next time we battle, I will give you everything I have.”

“Well, until that time comes, how about we team up?” Xie Lian’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “I’ve been told most battles here are done in teams of three.”

Hua Cheng chuckled. “It will be difficult finding someone who can keep up with us.”

“You mean someone you get along with besides me.”

“That too.”

The duo headed off, leaving Lear and his retinue very confused.

Professor Bellis, however, smiled knowingly to herself.

Once the two had gone off a significant way, to an area of town where nobody would see them, Hua Cheng leaned down and gently kissed Xie Lian on the cheek. “I missed you, Gege.”

Xie Lian smiled, touching the spot on his cheek. “I missed you too, San Lang. Perhaps… we should stay together, from now on?”

“It would be my honor.”

Xie Lian leaned up and placed a matching kiss on Hua Cheng’s cheek. “And mine as well.”

[annaisu]

MXTober Index

For each day, six people have three sentences centered around whatever each word invokes for them. The same word can, and often does, result in wildly different results for different people. All words were inspired by MXTX's 3 amazing series, but the characters only come from one: The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System.

Shen Qingqiu (Shen Yuan), Luo Binghe, Shen Jiu, Yue Qingyuan, Shang Qinghua, and Luo Bingge (The original Luo Binghe). Though there's no set time these pieces pull from, and it's normally somewhat self-evident when they are if it matters, the characters generally pull from these times:

Shen Qingqiu - Post Meng-Mo, Pre-Abyss - The Disciple Days Luo Binghe - Disciple Days or Post SQQ's Sacrifice Shen Jiu - After becoming head disciple, but before the fever (Warning, this one's normally pretty bitter!) Yue Qingyuan - Pre-fever Shang Qinghua - Before being revealed as traitor Luo Bingge - A nebulous time pretty well into his rule - no crossover extra, and he's slightly softer bc I'm privately working on a PIDW au that really influences how I see him. Not to say that he isn't a ruthless demon lord, but that's not really the aspects of him I focus on.

Link to the post (The person who first inspired the word of the day) - and a bonus sentence!

Day 1 - Scars (Luo Binghe) - No matter the trials he'd suffered through, the only scars he allowed to linger on his skin were the ones gifted to him by the person he admired most (even when it hurt).

Day 2 - Silk (Xie Lian) - Silk, born of life, born of death - forever by his side, in both penance and protection.

Day 3 - Blood (Hua Cheng) - He was known not only for the blood that spilled from the heavens as he walked by, but by how he stopped to shelter a flower.

Day 4 - Trust (Wangxian) - To follow by his side was the best choice he ever made; he could trust him to always go the right way, no matter the difficulties.

Day 5 - Love (Everybody) - To live, to die, to mourn, to adore - there was nothing that was too much to face in the name of love.

Day 6 - Death (Shen Qingqiu) - The first time he faced death, there was only rage in his heart; the second, guilt, and the third, love.

Day 7 - Friend (Shang Qinghua, fanon) - He knew that his best friend would never admit to what they were, but it was the truth - somehow, this author and his greatest critic had become each other's closest friend.

Day 8 - Trapped (Xie Lian) - LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT OH GOD PLEASE LET-

Day 9 - Power (Hua Cheng) - Every spec of power, every grain of gold; he gathered it all, and hoped that one day, he could share it with his beloved.

Day 10 - Sword (Xie Lian) - When he saw the armory, he nearly spun around with glee as he darted from sword to sword, from one weapon to the next, and almost without thought he began to speak of the tales belonging to them all.

Day 11 - Music (Lan Wangji) - To most Lans, music was almost another language; heartbreak, joy, solemnity, tranquility, inquiry... he spoke them all, and hoped that one day the one he loved would understand.

Day 12 - Loss (Wei Wuxian) - His mother, his father, his childhood, his home, his core, whatever innocence he had left, his place, his family, his sister, his new family, his life, his death - he smiled, through the loss of it all.

Day 13 - Resentment (Wei Wuxian) - For all the energy that he used, there was no resentment in his heart.

Day 14 - Ghost (Hua Cheng) - He could never be upset at becoming a ghost, because it meant that he could become even stronger in aid of his god.

Day 15 -Prayer (Hualian) - He smiled as he listened, feeling the warmth of worship as he headed home to his praying husband.

Day 16 - Faith (Hua Cheng) - They asked him how he stayed fast for eight-hundred years; he asked them if they truly thought he had so little faith in his god.

Day 17 - Story (Shang Qinghua) - Really, when all was said and done... he quite liked what his story had somehow become!

Day 18 - Rules (Lan Wangji) - He lived his life by a set of rules that guided his every action; it was comforting, to know there was something to help him keep along the straight path.

Day 19 - Ribbon (Wei Wuxian) - He really, really couldn't help it - he really wanted to tug on that forbidden ribbon, its ends dancing tantalizingly in the wind above silk-smooth hair!

Day 20 - Hunger (Wei Wuxian) - When a person is hungry enough, they'll eat anything (and yet, what he hungered for the most was love).

Day 21 - Lust (Lan Wangji) - He was so utterly furious with the ridiculous boy - how dare he make him feel such- such- no!

Day 22 - Patience (Xie Lian) - He smiled, closing his eyes, and waited patiently (he might be a slow learner, but he'd had far too many years to learn).

Day 23 - Devotion (Hua Cheng) - His heart sang of devotion, his mouth spoke of praise; his hands created worship, and he would love for all his days.

Day 24 - Longing (Hua Cheng) - Every year that passed without word of his Highness increased the longing in his heart; every moment that he wasn't by his side was a punishment for his failures.

Day 25 - Suffering (Xie Lian) - Ah, could it really be called suffering, when he knew his San Lang was with him?

Day 26 - Sacrifice (Wei Wuxian) - The cultivation world would always demand a sacrificial lamb; he'd sacrificed so much already, so what else was new?

Day 27 - Edge (Luo Binghe) - He knew that, beyond the edge of the abyss, he'd crossed beyond the edge of many things - but if it could ever bring his Shizun back to him, it would all be worth e v e r y t h i n g.

Day 28 - Pain (Xie Lian) - If you went through enough pain, it eventually stop hurting quite so much! (he lied)

Day 29 - Insanity (Luo Binghe) - He didn't understand - he couldn't understand, and it was driving him into insanity - first he beat him, then he loved him, then he threw him to his death, then he sacrificed himself - he'd only ever wanted-

Day 30 - Tears (Shen Qingqiu) - Why was his face so - he reached up to touch, and was startled to find tears still falling from his own eyes.

Day 31 - Acceptance (Shen Qingiu) - In the end, it didn't matter; he accepted his disciple, accepted his love, and looked forward to their future together.