#my room is very strange but ive been wanting to draw this for a while!

[angeloftrumpets]

[w1f1n1ghtm4r3]

ippiki au lore dump

if the name of the au does not make it very obvious, this au was inspired very heavily by the trained cards for kick it up a notch (i just chose to reference the comm, hitsuji ga ippiki, as the au name because it sounds cooler than calling it like. kickup au. so its ippiki au instead. when i first started working on this i just called it animal fighters au but thats long LOL)

its one of my favorite sets, im a big fan of dystopian and post-apocalyptic themes which the set hits perfectly and there was room to have fun with animal designs (i mean, seriously, they gave kohane sheep horns and named akitos costume "hound kid") and so i started thinking from the moment i laid eyes on the set when it leaked and i ended up with an au based around the idea of animal/human hybrids.

first of all for actual au stuff, character profiles! these were made a lot earlier on into working the au so ive made minor adjustments to their designs since then, but nothing drastic. mainly just little things ive changed when drawing them in more detail, like additional scars and such.

while making kohane a sheep and akito a dog (hes... not a specific kind of dog. hes a mix of a whole bunch of different larger domestic dog breeds combined with some wild canines. ) were obvious from the set, deciding on the animals for an and touya required a bit more thought. i ended up settling on a fox for an partially as a nod to her ny3 card and also because for a long time now ive thought theyre fitting for her anyway, and touya as a black leopard because... he's kitty. but i wanted to make him a big kitty not a domestic kitty. i do also like bunny touyas but for how i was feeling with this au i wanted him to be a cat.

theres the fun little detail that kohane is the only animal that isnt a predator in vbs.

but i should probably explain why theyre animal hybrids in this au.

im going to put the rest of the lore dump and more art below, this gets long.

basically, in the face of a coming apocalypse, there was an effort to attempt to hybridize humans with animals to see if they could create a form of human (or something seen as "human enough") that would be more resilient if the apocalypse threatened the survival of normal humanity. it was never completely successful and the hybrids were less stable/generally shorter lived (if physically stronger) but it ended up being unnecessary and enough of humanity survived to rebuild. but the experiments to create hybrids continued.

in the present day of the au, hybrids are created for... less pleasant tasks. the kinds of things people dont want to take on, and theyre physically stronger than the average human so theyre put to those jobs instead. or theyre created as showpieces/pets for the wealthy (most people outside of those circles find it strange to keep hybrids like that though. hybrids arent always seen as being truly human (although theyre fully capable of everything human and then some) but theyre still seen as human enough for it to be weird).

many of them though, are created as sacrifices for entertainment in battle arenas where theyll have to fight each other to the death. its a seemingly inevitable fate to die there once theyre sent, but escape has happened before. an is living proof of that, as both of her parents are escaped arena fighters who helped establish a small town of hybrids out in the wasteland beyond the city at the core of hybrid creation and sacrifice.

how an ended up as an arena fighter despite being born well outside the city... thats a long story.

touya is a showpiece fighter, created to fight but kept secure and safe outside of his registered fights. he might be healthier physically, much less worn down by fighting, but hes been very socially isolated and doesnt fit in with other hybrids very well.

an and touya fight in the same arena, and touyas fight days are the only times he interacts with other hybrids. hes given free reign around the hybrid compound (where most other hybrids are restricted under collars and chains) and he ends up meeting an there. although tense, they become sort of friends and he frees her and they escape together.

kohane and akito are just normal arena fighters, created solely for that purpose, although kohane was meant as an early sacrifice due to her skittish nature, but she survives. theyre in the same arena as each other, although its a harsher one than the one antouya are in, theyre unable to properly interact with anyone else at all and are just lucky enough to be neighbors to end up bonding.

i just grouped them based on which side of their face they have the barcodes on in the original cards lol in this au the arenas generally brand their fighters with a code for identifying them. touyas is actually not permanent like the others, but temporarily applied whenever he has a fight coming up (like a temporary tattoo lol)

kohane managing to survive despite the intention being that she dies is actually the driving force that starts the fic for this au (which fun fact, despite me never mentioning the title, does have a title! the fic will be called "fight, flight, freedom", unless i think of something that fits even better, but i already like the title as is so i probably wont change it)

its rough but i promise everyone gets a happy ending eventually :)

now for sitting through all that rambling heres some art

heres my very initial attempts at designs for them! no drastic changes even since this initial pass at designs tbh i was pretty content with them pretty quickly

some various doodles of them interacting, some during/around the time of the fic and others post-fic

what if they were... more animal? like furries instead of just the ears/tails? obviously noncanon but it was a fun little thing to draw

wip aged up designs! heavily inspired by the power of unity set because it also fits into the post apocalyptic type theme and i thought would work for them when theyre a little older. assume theyre about 20-21 here, while in the main canon of the au theyre about 16-17.

a silly little sketch i did last week of aged up akikoha in their burn my soul outfits... kohane cant really wear hats, horns are inconvenient for that. everyone elses ears would probably make hats difficult too, but you could probably make holes for their ears. you cant really make holes for the tops of her horns.

some little finished pieces i did for this au. can you tell akito is my favorite to draw for this?

now heres some other random au facts

an and haruka are childhood friends, haruka also being the child of ferals. haruka is a domestic cat hybrid (either a gray or black cat, i havent decided which yet). she is not in their hometown anymore either. where is she now...? ill leave you to wonder about that.

kohane and minori grew up in the same group of created hybrids together, theyre friends but were sent to different places so they dont know whats happened to each other since. minori is a goat btw (inspired by her halloween card)

a lot of ans scars are from injuries that snowballed after an incident in a fight that severely broke her tail and led to part of it being amputated. her balance was thrown off for a while after that so she was a little clumsier in fights than normal

akitos scars on the other hand are caused by the fact that hes a reckless fighter. a good fighter, but not much care for the damage he takes in the process. that and improper padding on his collars and muzzle, leaving those spots unable to fully heal from being rubbed against metal for months and when they finally do heal they scarred.

im still sorting things out for sure but tentatively for vbs npcs i have decided on fox ken and yuka (obviously, same as an), tiger taiga (i mean... how could i not go for the pun. and i think it suits him), maned wolf nagi (update march 2024 ive drawn nagi now so this is what has been made canon), raccoon kotaro, caracal arata, and dog souma (sorry to any tatsuya fans, i have not figured out how to include him in the au at all)

vbs all very clingy with each other once they get comfortable together. platonic polysquad ❤️

other characters outside of vbs exist in this au but theyre just not relevant enough to the story for me to include here 👍

the fic outline is like 2.4k words. the first chapter is a couple scenes away from being finished and its about 5k words. it will not be the longest chapter of the fic. this is going to be a long au.

maybe ill do another lore dump another day if i can think of more stuff. well see.

if you made it this far, thank you for reading, heres an edit i made the moment we got high quality versions of the cards and is probably partially responsible for the existence of this au

[gooeykit]

could we please have some more info and drawings on Guess for whem.....reasons :-D

HI so i havent drawn Guess or the others in years, so i took the opportunity to do some doodles between art trades i have going on

and here are the older drawings. my tumblr is throwing a hissy fity over compiling them side by side soooo i guess the post's formatting is fucked.

Guess is one i want to redesign but knowing me it wont be for another long while and would just be like a few changes to better fit the world theyre in, better reflect the rabbit breed they are and distance them from Izutsumi who i hadn't known about and maybe hadnt even debuted in the west when i made them.. BUT OH WELL! lol

Gus is a soul thief. I swear to god ive made mutiple posts about Sulum what explain what that is, but i cant find any of them, but to put briefly, soul thieves are creatures born of a sapient soul in a non sapient body, morphed by the inherent magic found in sapient creatures in this universe. Soul thieves have the ability to do this through their palm, given there needs to be nothing in the way of the palm, and the soul will be stored as a layer of keratin in the horns.

Gus is a domestic rabbit with a human soul which was granted to it by Sulum after being pressured into it by Densun who didn't know that by reviving it, it would also be given human intellect. All of the souls held by Sulum are adult, so Guess has a strange identity where the body is trying to catch up to the soul transforming it and is rapidly maturing. Theyre also both having to deal with the fact that they have to be raised all over again by 2 children and like having essentially phantom impulses and memories from their passed life both as a rabbit and a human. Basically Guess rapidly goes between being very immature to mature behavior wise. Nothing from either life's worth of memories are solid, the only remaining piece from either is that the rabbit was killed by dogs and now Guess has a permanent hate for them. This also makes it so that they don't have a very solid feeling identity, so they go by multiple names and pronouns.

While Guess is a soul thief, they dont have horns and this is because of rabbits having fur on their pads, so Jess isn't able to use their powers.

All the souls held by Sulum are people that a religious cult deemed worthy of death, so theres room for Guess's human identity being someone who betrayed the sect or otherwise tried to cross it. I've been meaning to play with these characters more lately, so thats something id like to toy with soon to flesh her out.

[pineartblog]

i wrote this as my comeback post on my art instagram, which i had to revive because i was shortlisted for an open call (yay) — but to be perfectly honest the vulnerable captions on my old art ig posts irk me & definitely stop me from using the account… still, it feels wrong to remove them, because they were true at the time. anyway:

hi everyone, it’s been a long time since ive shown my paintings to people… i have been wondering if i would be able to post work if i remained anonymous… but finally due to time constraints i suppose i am just going to put my art here on the same account…

i have actually been painting landscapes since 2020. before that i was in an institutional haze and before that i only painted portraits. i was unable to reconcile all the harmful systems that tell us what “beauty” is and so i decided to avoid drawing people (and hence proposing a certain kind of beauty) completely. i decided i didnt want to represent human beings anymore in my work, and liked the idea that if you painted a landscape the only “human” in the work was the viewer. and me, i suppose.

anyway, it all worked out very nicely because trees and forests have become such a central part of my identity. which i suppose sounds strange, but it is true. i find it quite lovely that my spiritual and artistic lives have converged in this way, or maybe that the seeds were always there just waiting to soften at the right moment…

*

i did the painting plein air sitting on some steps at bukit timah over two 2-hour sittings. painting in public means people stop and look at what you’re doing, which can be stressful but i can’t really blame them, i would be curious too. people are usually very nice. this was my favourite painting of mine for a while, and i tried not to look at it too much for fear that i would start to hate it. i think i’m a lot better about that now, and am sometimes pleasantly surprised by my old paintings.

anyway, plein air is super fun and forces me to actually finish my paintings. i always love being in the company of trees, i feel their gentle support which makes me feel far happier than when i’m painting alone in my room by the harsh light of the table lamp that they market for young children writing 作文 (compositions).

[someone-called-efg]

before this happens again i decided to draw what i saw and experienced a little over a month ago so incase anyone has anything similar theyre not alone at least, and if its some kinda 'only me' thing, than at least it's documented.

i dont really know what kinda tw to put for this, but assume anything given its about a near death experience

so, back just before valentine's day, a demon somehow ended up in my bedroom. me, wanting to prove im not a coward, did exactly that, and firmly declared my beliefs in the being who created all (for the sake of the post im gonna call said entity god) and its not a lie, even from a young age ive been a strong believer even to the point of getting in trouble for it (i.e. getting in trouble for calling out hypocrisy and trying to do something about it despite being the only one to try) and while my faith has had a lapse when i was a teen, it since got resparked. so, adamantly that the idea of having no faith seems bazar to me.

so, all this to say, when the demon was in my room, it knew i wouldnt give up my faith.

however, one thing ive said on occasion to family is that i dont fear death, and thats still true to an extent. sure, ive had near death experiences before, but ive always been of the opinion that as long as youre right with god than you have no reason to fear dying. and imo that just means not being an asshole.

so, the demon found out i genuinely dont have any fear of death or dying and decided to try to call a bluff that wasnt even there. so, with all its might, it killed me

this is roughly what i believe it looked like, as it gave off this sense of dread i ccouldnt really shake off when in its presence. (yes, the stick figure is meant to be me for size comparison) everything else beside the thousands of mouths was a void. the mouths glowed an inviting white, but as you see, when i got closer, it lead to a void like pit that was its true mouth, rows upon rows of pointed teeth jutting to the center that only got darker and darker the closer i looked.

then, something happened in my mind that even i cant put into words, because quite frankly, even i dont understand what happened in between everything

then everything went from being in a dark void, to this

an angel came and was so bright i only know its this kind because how many eyes were there. i had to convince the angel that i would be able to cope with being alive after that day, and i was allowed to come back on account that i see a priest and a therapist. (and something i thought was strange to mention that: if you bleed on something, you yourself have to burn it) another part of the agreement was that i post on my socials about the encounter, and while i had done that previously, i figured making as comprehensible of a post as possible now that ive had a bit of time to process it all would be a good idea

so as you can all tell, this it getting very triggering for me.

the week or so that followed that night could be comparable to a personal hell, as any time i wasnt around any human, i would be tormented by the demon in ways that i cant even mention out of fear of t.o.s. as they tried as much as possible to keep me in my room as if to keep me hostage

until one day when i broke down to my mom

she got me holy water from the church and i proceeded to sprinkle it all over while praying as best i could

but since that night ive felt like the worst hypocrite of them all. since i was little i had wished to die, in fact, as a child i had no intention of making it to my double digits, and yet, here i am. and when i was nearly out the door, for some reason i decided to stay.

anyways, even though i went around with holy water and prayer, my bedroom hasnt felt safe, and ive been sleeping in the living room since. because being without privacy means no personal hell. so i see it as a win in my books.

throughout all this, ive seen my faith as this small campfire, and any attack against my faith as gusts of wind that i keep having to protect the flame from so it doesn't get blown out.

[daffodilfool]

Diary Entry.

Wednesday 04-10-2023

It's spooky month

i missed the first couple days but god damnit who cares

I keep this diary for ME and MYSELF ONLY!

i had a thought this morning which i dont know how to feel about it

i find a strange comfort in knowing the last thing ill ever remember is Outer Wilds

when im 90 years old and riddled with alzheimers and dementia and i've forgotten who i am, who my friends and family are, and everything ive ever made, i will still cry when i hear the calm guitar of timber hearth and the rushing water of the geysers

theres a tumblr post i think of from time to time, while its not exactly a poem in the traditional sense i do think it would be fair to call it such

"I hate it when I can't even write a poem about something because it's too obvious. Like in the aribnb I was at I guess it used to be a kid's room cause you could see the imprint of one little glow in the dark star that had been missed and painted over in landlord white. Like that's the poem already what's the point? You get it. You get the themes. I don't have time to do it justice. Just look at it. It's on the ceiling."

[Permalink to the tumblr post]

theres a lot of stuff like this

i too have a painted over glow in the dark star in my room

well

a chunk of it

the adhesive stuck to the wall so well we couldnt get it off and the arm snapped leaving only the tip glued to the wall

i still see it through the paint sometimes and wonder if someone in the future will see it and think about it when we eventually move out of the house

fossils too

a living being from millions of years ago frozen in time, quite literally set in stone

as little as a half mandible is enough to reconstruct an entire animal and its life

the lives of those around it

here we are, millions of years later, fawning over a rock with an odd shape

we give it life

we give it personality

we study every inch of its remains all to craft a story of the unknowable world before us

part of it is pursuit of knowledge, sure

but deep down do we really ponder the past because WE want to?

or do we remember the lost souls who have slumbered within the earth for eons to keep the memory of those who are no longer with us alive

Death in life is the death of the body, yes, but so long as you've made a mark, any mark, any sign of your existance, did you ever truly die?

Outer Wilds is poetic

it drives us to find out the dreams and goals of the Nomai

and we say we do it because we want to figure out the mystery

but if it really was just that, how come i still think about Outer Wilds despite knowing everything that happened

to the Nomai

to the Hearthians

to the Owlks

I'm done with Outer Wilds

I've done everything

theres nothing more for me to learn

and yet i keep returning to the game

if for no other reason than to simply say hi to the Hearthians

and to honour the dreams of the Nomai

and to help the Prisoner move on

why is it that when i open the game i spend my first 10 minutes simply standing in the middle of the town and listen to the rushing waterfall and the soothing music

and why is it that when i hear the banjo and the crackles of the Hatchlings campfire get lit, I cry?

by the time im old

when my brain has rotted

i will be looking through everything ive ever written

everything ive ever said

ill be looking through this very diary

you wont remember me

you wont remember baba

you wont remember thyme, or ava, or nessie, or ash

you wont remember your sister, your dog, your mom or dad

you wont remember all the poems you wrote

you wont remember all the drawings you did

you wont remember all the characters you've spent so much time playing with and putting in silly situations

you wont remember the nomads

you wont remember the Janitor

but I know for a fact that whoever is taking care of you by then will put on the theme of Outer Wilds

and i know for a fact that you will remember

You'll shed a tear, and it will be the product of every piece of art you've experienced, everyone you've ever cared about, everything that has had an impact on you, molded you and changed you as a person.

In that moment, though you may not remember me, you'll know that we're still the same person.

Deep down I know you're aware that, despite everything,

I love you.

[jackrrabbit]

Adversary /// Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: You make a deal with the devil to save your life, but it turns out Overhaul’s not interested in your soul.

A/N: Remember when I said I was going to do a fantasy collab and then dipped for like 9 months? Hahaha…anyway…

@pleasantanathema @ present-mel @shadowworks—if it’s not too late, here’s my part for the Pleasant & Strider Fantasy AU Writing Collab from a million years ago. Go check out the masterlist and gorge yourself on these amazing pieces!!

Tags/Warnings: dubcon, demon fuckery & occult things, big heresy/sacrilege/perversion of religion, sex in a church ft. Catholic sex guilt, other than that it’s not that bad lol, inexperienced reader, mild degradation, shameless camp and demon-fucking clichés, Overhaul calls you “little girl” 👉👈

He doesn’t look like a demon.

Not that you really know what demons are supposed to look like. But…red skin, right? Fangs and claws and swirling masses of bad energy. Maybe cloven hooves for feet. Yes, that’s the Disney version—but even if you didn’t expect a cartoon personification of evil, you didn’t expect this.

He looks like a doctor, you think. Lab coat hanging open, surgery mask pushed down under his jaw, stethoscope draped over his shoulders. No, he’s a little young to really look like a doctor…an intern, you amend, shifting back in your hospital bed. He looks like he fits right in here, not a hair out of place. Except for, you know, the polished black horns curling out of the sides of his skull.

Overhaul. It was written in the book. That’s the only thing you have to call him in your head.

He’s standing in the center of the sigil you drew at the foot of your bed before midnight, surveying the room critically without meeting your gaze. He looks annoyed—that’s not a good sign, is it?—but then again, of course he’s annoyed. You’d be annoyed too if you got summoned out of your cozy hell dimension in the middle of the night. According to the book, you’re lucky he even showed up…although ‘lucky’ isn’t really how you’d describe yourself most days.

“So,” Overhaul says after a long moment of silence in which you question every choice you’ve made in your relatively short life. “You’re dying.”

You nod.

“And you don’t want to be.”

You nod again, wondering if you’re supposed to be contributing more to this conversation. It’s a bit difficult when your mouth is so dry it feels like you’ve been eating dirt, but you suppose being in the presence of an unholy servant of Satan will do that to a person.

“Fine.” He sighs, frowns, and then finally lowers his gaze onto yours—and you shiver.

Those eyes. No human has eyes like that.

“Make me an offer,” Overhaul tells you, and through his open mouth you catch a flash of sharp white teeth.

Okay. Okay. The chirping of the heart monitor speeds up (as if it weren’t obvious enough that you’re terrified) and you fold your knees up to your chest and fidget with your ring and think. He’s giving you a chance to establish parameters. You’re supposed to start with his end of the deal, the thing you want from him. That’s what it said to do in the grimoire, aka the 19th century demonology volume your creepy cousin brought back from her pagan anthropology research trip in rural France. The one you keep hidden under your bed because your mother would burn it if she knew you were reading about summoning demons.

Offer nothing to a hell creature without first telling him your price. You know the words by heart, both the winding calligraphy of the original French from the grimoire and the rushed scrawl of the English translation your cousin left for you in sheets of lined paper layered between the pages of the book for you to read. Really, this is her fault. She was the one who slipped you the book, who told you that it worked, who snuck you the ingredients for the summoning. She was the one who left a bookmark at the chapter on this particular demon, one that specializes in ‘Contrat pour Remédier au Déséquilibre des Quatre Humeurs’, which she said meant a contract to cure any illness. Even his ‘name’ is translated in her hand, practically an afterthought in the margins of the page.

‘Le Malin qui Ravage et Rebâtit’— Overhaul?

You looked up the literal meaning of this phrase on your own. It did not reassure you.

“Girl.” His voice is cold, irate. Your eyes snap back up to his and it feels like that burning gaze is laser-beaming into your skull. “Do not test me. My time is limited…as is yours.”

You swallow. “How long do I have left?”

“Less than a single human year,” he tells you without a trace of sympathy. “Seven months, twelve days, three hours. Or so. You’ll be too exhausted to leave this bed in four months, and the pain will become intolerable in six… By the end, you’ll wish—“

“Stop,” you breathe out. The heart monitor is beeping wildly and you squeeze your knees into your chest, trying to calm down your breathing. “Stop, I—I want to live.”

“Of course you do.” Overhaul’s lip curls. “How very predictable.”

Be specific, you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the stifling disapproval from the man—the demon—in front of you. Something about him (maybe how clean-cut he looks, maybe the indisputable authority in his demeanor) makes you want to impress him. But you didn’t turn your back on your religion—you didn’t draw pagan symbols on the floor in chalk, fill silver cups with various questionable substances (including your own virgin blood), and turn the crucifix your mother hung over your bed upside-down so you could let a demon make you feel guilty for wanting to survive. “I want to be cured. I’m okay with whatever natural death I have instead when I’m older, I just don’t want to die of this illness. I want you to make me healthy.”

“Simple enough. What else?”

‘Simple’? Your heart surges with something you’ve felt very little of since your initial diagnosis—hope. “T-That’s it. Just the cure.”

Overhaul glares at you. “Humans… Every vice in the world available to you, and you limit yourselves to the basest priority of survival.”

“But you can do it? You can cure me?” you persist.

Overhaul steps forward (quiet, so quiet you wonder if he really moved) and holds a hand out to you past the foot of your bed—you hesitate, and a second later you can see the muscles in his hand flex, stretching the latex of his plastic gloves tight over his knuckles.

Just do it. You give him your hand. Carefully. Like you’re scared the contact will burn you. It doesn’t (although his skin feels warmer than yours), but after a moment his grip tightens, sliding down past your hand to circle the fragile bones of your wrist and squeeze.

“Ow?” You wince.

The demon’s eyes flicker closed for a second, lips moving silently like he’s talking to himself—and then he drops your hand unceremoniously back onto your lap. “You could be cured before the sun rises this morning. I doubt your stay in the hospital will extend past the end of the week.”

He sounds bored, voice as flat and passionless as it was earlier, but your heart is soaring. Cured. You’ve lived with this illness for so many years, you can’t remember the last time someone told you you could be cured. And getting out of the hospital that soon? You can just imagine taking down all the decorations from the walls of your room here and setting them up in your old bedroom at home. You could see friends on the weekend and not take an oxygen bag, you could get a job or—or apply to college, you could have a life—

“That is…assuming you have something to offer me in exchange for the cure.”

Your stomach drops. You’d almost forgotten about the other half of the deal.

“Don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing.” Overhaul steps back, and the orange light of the candles you set sends strange shadows over his arrogant face. The fires look brighter now, and you find yourself tracing the lines of those shining black horns. In an odd way, they look natural—so organically framing his temples that you can’t imagine him without them.

“N-No, of course not. I have some money—I mean, my mom has some, and I can get it for you…” Which is half the truth. If you know anything, it’s that your mother’s spent most of her savings on your treatment and care. You probably have more debt than you have money in the bank right now—you’d try to get rid of that, too, if you hadn’t read in the book how important it is to keep your request as simple and straightforward as possible.

…Although it’s apparently not enough. Overhaul’s eyes narrow, molten gold irises carved into slits. “Even if I had a use for human money, do you really believe your life is worth so little?”

“No—no,” you say quickly. “I just thought—in case you were interested—”

The air crackles with energy, the candle flames spark bright blood-red, and the hair on your arms stands straight up. “I am not.”

“Okay! I get it.” You wave your hands back and forth, pulling your IV line from side to side with the motion. The book was very clear about staying calm and rational while you work out the terms of the deal, but that’s easier said than done when you have a real live (live?) hell creature in front of you. You always knew this was going to be the hard part—all the stories say there’s only one thing that a demon would be interested in, and no matter how inviting the prospect of living past this illness is, you know you’d rather die than sell your immortal soul to the devil. “I’ll give you anything except my soul! And—and don’t hurt anyone I care about, or— just don’t hurt anyone, okay? Other than that, if there’s anything I can give you, I will.”

Overhaul’s lip curls, baring a thin strip of those unnaturally sharp canines. “And is your soul really so valuable?”

This throws you for a loop. Isn’t that the standard deal? A soul for a wish? That’s how it’s supposed to work—at least in this twisted version of reality where you can summon a demon to perform unholy miracles for you. But if you think about it, it doesn’t really make sense, does it? Why would your soul be valuable to him? You can’t form an argument, especially since you’re not willing to barter it away in the first place.

Your mouth is pursed open as you search for a response, but Overhaul doesn’t seem willing to wait. A gloved hand wraps its way around the railing at the side of your bed, and he leans in closer. “Little girl…what makes you think you possess anything I desire?”

Little girl. You’re not a little girl, you’re a grown woman—and yet there’s no untruth in the statement. In front of him you feel insignificant, immature, weak. You have nothing real to offer, and something tells you that you’re not going to get rid of the demon you summoned without a sacrifice you’re not willing to make.

You twist your ring around your finger—the nervous habit you haven’t bothered to break because you’ve always had more important things to worry about—and the glint of silver in the candlelight must catch Overhaul’s eye because before you even notice him moving, your delicate hand is trapped in his larger one to give him a better view of the tiny piece of jewelry. “What is this?”

“It’s—um, a ring. A purity ring.” Has he never seen one before? Well…actually, that makes sense.

Overhaul turns your hand over in his without touching the band of silver. He’s looking at it closely, inspecting the lovingly engraved cross in the design and the inscription on the other side. “Matthew 5:8,” he reads out.

“…Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” you recite cautiously. It feels wrong to speak the words in front of him, but somehow you can’t help yourself.

Overhaul’s hand doesn’t leave yours. “This ring is important to you.”

“It’s a symbol of a—a promise I made to God. To save myself for my future husband.”

“To ‘save yourself’? To save what?”

You can’t believe you’re explaining this to a literal demon. You close your eyes and inhale slowly and taste smoke. “My…virginity. It’s a promise that I won’t have sex until I enter into a biblical marriage.”

At this, Overhaul is quiet. You give him a moment to answer, half expecting him to question why you think God cares about your sexual status (honestly, you’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered this yourself), but he stays quiet until you peek up at him to try and gauge the look on his coldly handsome face.

He’s still staring at the ring. He hasn’t touched it—maybe he can’t, because of the cross?—and through the latex, his skin feels hotter than a human’s is supposed to be.

“Is there…” you start, but you trail off when you realize you have nothing to ask. You give a little tug to try and take your hand away and you’re surprised when your wrist actually slides out of his grip to fall back on the nest of sheets in your lap. You didn’t think he’d let you go so easily.

Overhaul turns his head to the side, eyes drilling into you so you feel like you should lower your gaze. The candlelight flickers in strange shadows over his horns. “This will do,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“In exchange for your cure.” The demon taps his own left ring finger, the place where the purity ring sits on your hand, and your heart soars. He actually wants that? It’s just a simple silver band, not worth much, but you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it has some special significance because of the religious connotation. Your mother will be angry you’ve lost it, but you’re happy to cope with that if it means living to actually get married!

“Yes!” you blurt out before he has a chance to rethink his offer. Sure, you’ll miss the purity ring—you’ve had it since you were a kid, after all—but there’s no question you’re getting the better end of this deal. At least in your opinion.

Something flashes through his yellow eyes, something you don’t even want to try and identify. “The contract, then.”

You barely have time to notice that his voice has gentled, that it’s practically silken in comparison to before, when the candlelight flickers again and suddenly the contract is everywhere. Everywhere. Writing appears on every surface in the room, covering the walls, stretching over the ceiling, coiling around the sides of the hospital equipment and decorating your bedsheets until you and Overhaul are the only untouched surfaces in sight. The characters are inscribed in red, dark red like—don’t think about that, you tell yourself squeamishly. You can make out some of the letters, even a word here or there—French, you recognize, mixed with what looks like Latin and interspersed with what you can only guess are runes.

“I can’t read this,” you tell him, fidgeting with your ring for what you now realize will be the last time.

“I only need your name,” he purrs, and then you feel a fragile weight in your hand: a feather, pearl-black and glossy and too large to belong to any bird you can think of, its angled tip glistening with wet ink. There’s an empty space in the writing before you, and Overhaul’s gloved hand comes to yours again to guide you into place.

This feels wrong…then again, of course it does. Even if you’re getting off relatively easy and just losing your ring rather than your soul, you’re still making a deal with a demon. You sign your name, forcing yourself to think about the future you have ahead of you rather than a disapproving white-bearded caricature of The Man Upstairs wagging his finger at you for haggling with a literal servant of Satan. People have done worse things to survive, haven’t they? It’s just a ring.

You set the feather down and Overhaul sighs, thick black eyelashes obscuring his intense gaze for a moment—and then the contract is gone, leaving your hospital room as blank and sterile as it’s supposed to be (well, aside from the candles and all the other ritual stuff you threw together to summon a demon in the first place).

“Are you going to cure—heal me now?” you ask.

“…Patience, little girl.” He’s pulling his glove off, peeling it down his fingers to bare the pale skin of his hand. You catch your breath and wonder what this is going to feel like, and then the tips of his fingers meet your cheek and—

you stop breathing.

It doesn’t hurt.

Or if it does, you don’t remember the pain a second later when breath floods back into your lungs. What you do feel is energy. Strength in your muscles, blood pumping through your veins, every inhale and exhale as light as a bird and freer. You feel healthy. You’re surprised you even remember what health feels like but you do: it’s like you’ve only been half alive, and now life is surging into you and through you and around you, bubbling up in your core like a spring overflowing. You blink rapidly, thinking you might cry from the sheer pleasure of it, but when you open your mouth it’s laughter that comes out. You’re healthy. You’re alive. You barely notice the IV line literally falling off of your skin because the hole where it entered your vein is sealed shut and healed perfectly.

No more needles. No more hospitals. Even without all the monitors beeping out your heart rate and measuring your vitals, there’s not a shred of doubt in your mind that you’re cured.

“Thank you!” you laugh, looking up at Overhaul and for the first time, not caring that he’s evil incarnate. “I feel—I’m okay! It worked!”

“Of course it did.” His expression is inscrutable, but he lets you have a few moments to enjoy your newfound health.

You roll your shoulders back, flex each muscle you can isolate one by one to test, make fists with your fingers and then run them over your hair, which is already thicker and shinier than it was a moment ago. Your body thrums with energy—you want to run, to feel the ground against your bare feet and the cold night air on your face, and you think you could do it! Your legs are already swinging over the side of your cot, ready to run barefoot out of the hospital if that’s what it takes, but before you can stand up Overhaul’s pushing you back down onto the bed.

“Have you forgotten your end of the bargain already?”

Honestly you did forget, but only for a second, only because you were so excited to just be outside again. “Oh, yeah. Of course.” Your hand goes to your left ring finger, ready to slip the ring off and hand it over, but Overhaul shakes his head.

“Not here.”

“What—?”

You’re falling. Your hospital room is disappearing, the image of your walls and your window and your bed disintegrating into yawning black, and you’re falling through it into nothing, into emptiness, and Overhaul’s still-bare hand in yours is the only anchor you have so you clutch onto it and squeeze your eyes shut. You want to scream—that’s the sane thing to do when you’re falling through miles and miles of empty space, right?—but when you open your throat the sound is swallowed up just like the light was…

Overhaul’s hand burns into yours, an improbable lifeline that you pull closer more out of terror than conscious thought. The slick, empty air rushes around you and you think I am going to die like this and then, incredibly, as soon as you’ve accepted your imminent demise, you feel your back mold onto a chilled, flat surface, vertebra by vertebra up to the back of your head, as if you’ve been lain down onto it.

Your heart thuds in your ears and you brace for an impact because your body hasn’t quite accepted yet that it’s not falling anymore—but at the same time, you know you’re lying down on something. You pry your fingers away from their vice-grip on Overhaul’s arm and feel around blindly for what’s underneath you, and when it seems reasonably tangible you let yourself open your eyes.

Way above, vaulted dozens of feet over your head, is a ceiling studded with gilt-edged frescoes and stained glass. It’s raining (even though it wasn’t in the hospital, you think) but through the massive panes of colored glass there’s enough oily blue light to make out that you’re in a church.

You’re in a church, with a demon. Isn’t that against the rules?

You sit up stiffly and look over at Overhaul, who’s standing at your side and looking down at you…which is how you realize the soft, cold surface you’ve been deposited onto is the blanket on top of the altar in the sanctuary. “Where...did you take me?”

“You should know this place.”

And you do, when you look around. It’s empty now and you’ve never been here at night, but this is a church your mother would bring you to when you were little, back before the disease got so bad you couldn’t risk traveling to it anymore. This is where you took your purity vow…the ring feels heavy on your hand. “Why—why—“

“I can’t stand human hospitals. Filthy places… How that reek of illness and death doesn’t bother your kind, I’ll never understand.” Overhaul pulls his latex glove back on. He’s dressed differently now, no longer impersonating a doctor—black shirt, black pants, and a…bird mask in red leather and gold. So are you, as a matter of fact. Instead of your hospital gown, you’re in a gauzy white dress that’s already been pushed up to pool around the tops of your thighs.

The slip is too thin for the cold, and you can feel your nipples standing up under the cloth so you fold your arms over your chest and hug yourself. “Why did you take me here?” The sound of your voice echoes off the walls eerily and you wish you hadn’t spoken so loudly. The reflection of your words sounds girlish, nervous.

“I told you. Your side of our contract.” Even in this dark, the angular features of his face are clearly concentrating—on you. “Are you already having second thoughts? Such a fickle little thing…”

“You mean the ring?” You reach for it again, ready to tear it off and throw it at him if that’s what it takes to see your deal through, but Overhaul snatches your hand away, pinning it above you.

“Not the ring,” he says. “The promise.”

The…promise?

A chill makes its way down your spine despite the heat radiating off the demon’s body and onto yours. “I don’t understand.”

“The promise,” Overhaul repeats—and you hear a sound almost like wings flapping and then he’s on the altar with you, knees straddling your hips as a single hand holds both your wrists above your head. “To remain a virgin until marriage. Your promise to God.”

A streak of lightning cracks down on the other side of the stained glass window behind the altar, illuminating the room briefly in spectacular pits of red and orange and yellow…and then it’s dark again, and the only color you can make out is the gold in Overhaul’s eyes.

“I’m going to break it,” he murmurs, lowering his head toward your ear right as the answering thunder rolls through the sanctuary, up through the altar, up into you.

///

Méfiez-vous de son piège, the grimoire said. Beware of the catch.

Of course it wasn’t just a ring.

Overhaul’s fingers are in—inside you, his middle and ring finger pumping through the length of your cunt like they belong there, like you were made to be touched this way. A mixture of your juices and your own spit cling to the latex because he made you suck his fingers before he put them in you and he hasn’t bothered to take his gloves off—not that you asked. You’ve been too busy biting your lip to try and muffle the moans that he keeps forcing out of you. He’s bracing himself on top of you with one hand and fingering you with the other, so your own hands are free to push into your eyes and hide your face…until he yanks your arm back and stops.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes are screwed shut and you shake your head back and forth, the movement shuddering your whole body right down to your pussy wrapped around Overhaul’s fingers. He slows the movement and kneels back, pushing one of your thighs up into your chest as he does it.

“Look at me.”

And you’re not sure whether it’s some unearthly power he has over you or the plain old deterioration of your willpower, but you can’t refuse him. You crack your eyes open and he’s glaring down at you, skin pale as ice in the blue light. Once he’s satisfied that you’re watching, the demon leans back in to fuck your cunt with his fingers, slowly at first and then quicker when he hits something inside of you—a spot, a place on the inner wall of your pussy that makes you feel like you’ve been shocked— heat blooms through you like blood in water and you gasp and he curls his fingers up to pet over that spot again.

“Wait—wait, that’s—it feels—weird!” You’ve never felt like this before. You’re not supposed to feel like this, it’s wrong.

“I understand you’ve never touched yourself, but don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Overhaul says, voice as indifferent and calm as ever even though your cunt is dripping clear sticky liquid over the plastic of his glove.

He pushes back in and grinds his palm over the little button on the top of your pussy—your clit?—and you want to scream. “No, I—I don’t—nnhh...”

Do you like it? The demon’s body is so hot next to yours, like he’s running a fever except you’re the one going out of your mind… You’ve heard metaphors for sexual pleasure before (that it’s like having something to drink when you’re dying of thirst; or that it’s the ultimate act of intimacy, love in physical form) but all of that’s a fucking lie. There’s nothing to compare it to, no reference that makes sense, because it doesn’t make sense—you don’t even want him to keep going, do you? You’re only doing this because you signed your name on a devil’s contract, because you don’t want to die and there’s no alternative…but that doesn’t explain why you feel so warm from the inside out, why you’re squirming and your hips are rocking involuntarily no matter how much you try to keep still. This isn’t right. You feel like you’ve been lied to.

A good girl wouldn’t like this.

Overhaul isn’t going to let you close your eyes, so you don’t—but the sounds coming out of your mouth are so…indecent (and how can you think these things about yourself? the word feels like someone else is saying it when you hear it in your head) that your hand is drifting up to your mouth before you can stop yourself, trying to stifle all of it…

“Let your voice out. I want you to hear yourself moan.”

Long fingers slide their way out of your pussy and then move up to rub quick little circles around your clit and you moan, like a whore, like a girl getting her cunt rubbed by a demon— “Oh, uhhhn—something, it’s—coming—“ There’s something building up in your core—a peak, a climax, something that makes you fist your hands in the nightgown he put you in (so tight you’re surprised the thin fabric hasn’t torn) and tilt your hips up into him, begging without words because you don’t have any to express what your body is asking for…

But he doesn’t give it to you. Overhaul takes his hand away from your pussy and the shock of the cool air after his too-hot touch is almost enough to send you over that edge—almost. Not quite. And without it, you’re left shivering and quaking, thighs twitching as your baser instincts beg you to just put your hand between your legs for once and hump your fingers to completion if the demon won’t do it.

You’re not going to risk that, though. Not when Overhaul’s dragging your body closer, bunching up the blanket on the altar under your spine, so your pelvis is angled to his… He’s already shirtless and you hear him unzipping his pants but you can’t bring yourself to actually look at him, even when you feel something hard and hot nudging up against your inner thigh and then aligning to your sticky wet slit.

“This will hurt a bit, but I want you to look,” he says, and you don’t even understand at first until you make yourself feel it—his cock, pushing up against your tight cunt to finish this, this perversion of what your first time was supposed to be…

And what was it supposed to be? Roses and candles and soft kisses? A nameless, faceless husband unzipping your wedding dress and making love to you with the lights off? The way the demon touches you should be cruel in comparison but it isn’t, it’s lighting fires under your skin and turning your brains to mush, so how is your body supposed to tell the difference?

It’ll hurt, you know that, you’ve heard enough about sex to know that it always hurts the first time for girls…women. It was already a stretch to fit his fingers in your virgin pussy, so of course his cock is going to hurt. You turn your head toward the window at your side and try on look out at the rain drawing rivulets like veins over the glass, something to focus on instead of him.

“I said look,” the demon hisses, and his hips push forward a bit and you bite off a whimper of pain. “Watch me take your virginity…look at your tight little cunt swallowing me up just like it was made to.”

“N-No—“ you whine, even though it’s not like you can ignore it. “Don’t make me, don’t make me look, I can’t—“

“Then look at me.”

It’s what he wants, some kind of wicked satisfaction he gets off on, but you’re lucky enough to even get an option so you choose that one, shifting your gaze up into his face instead of the place where his cock is pressing deeper and deeper inside you. Overhaul’s eyes are half-lidded and it’s hard to tell from behind the mask but the look on his face is…pleasure? No, that would be too human. Restraint, at least. He could just thrust up into your body in one stroke, but he wants you to feel it for some reason.

Maybe because it’s a worse betrayal of your chastity if you want to get fucked.

Lucky for you, though, you can barely feel anything aside from the pain. The heat you felt building earlier is draining out of you even as Overhaul tilts deeper, layering his chest over yours. You’re almost grateful for the modest barrier the dress provides between your torso and the solid muscle of his abdomen. His cock in your pussy feels like it’s too big too deep too much and it’s the first time you’ve felt like your body wasn’t created specifically for this purpose so you hold it tight.

“Does it hurt?”

A second of clarity makes you want to snarl (of course it fucking hurts, I’m losing my virginity to a demon I summoned from hell) and you dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from saying it out loud. Overhaul pulls out a fraction of an inch and then pushes back in and you feel like the breath’s being pushed out of your lungs. “Yes! Yes, it—it hurts—“

“I can make you enjoy it…for a price,” he sighs, settling into a slow rocking motion of his hips pushing into yours.

And you want to, every sore muscle in your cunt is telling you to give in and give up, give him what he wants so you can enjoy it like he says—but you’d rather hate every second of this than make another deal. You shake your head quickly and because you’re still too afraid to look away from him, you don’t miss the look of surprise that flits across his face before he tamps it down. “I don’t—I don’t want to—like it,” you gasp out between thrusts. “It’s better if—if it h-hurts…”

This time it’s obvious—his eyes really do widen, and you feel some petty triumph at having caught him off guard like this. Who’s predictable now? you think—and then he’s lifting one hand off the altar at the side of your head and tugging his glove off with his teeth, and you don’t even have time to be afraid of what he’s going to do to you because it’s too late, his bare fingers are already stroking over your mound and onto your core, massaging into the flesh of your stomach so he can feel his own cock sliding in and out of you—

and it doesn’t hurt anymore?

You only have a second to try and understand—he cured you, he healed the pain from your first time just like he healed your illness?—before he hooks his grip under your thigh and folds your legs into your chest so he can fuck into you harder than before. His cock slaps into your pussy and you can hear it, hear how wet your filthy little cunt is, smeared through with your juices. It’s sick—the sound of skin against skin, and the moaning you can’t hold back, you sound like a woman in a porno and you wish the pain would come back just so you could keep hating what he’s doing to you. “What—what did you do—“

The demon ignores you. “It feels good, doesn’t it.”

“Nn—“ It’s deeper like this…deeper and rougher and you can feel it. Now that the pain’s been reduced to the dull ache of a stretched muscle, you can feel everything—his cock sliding against that same spot in your cunt that makes you want to squeal, the friction of his body moving against your clit, all of it, everything you wanted to block out— he pumps into you and you hear your breath sobbing out a moan a second out of rhythm, the sounds of you bouncing on demon cock echoing over the walls. “Please—ah, ahhh…”

“‘Please?’ Are you begging—me, little girl?” Overhaul pushes your thigh up and drags his cock through you, excruciatingly slow, forcing you to feel the thick head slide over every gummy wall in your slick pussy.

You shake your head, mewl, try to force your hips to stop rocking back into his and grinding your clit against him. But you can’t. You’re a—you were a virgin, for fuck’s sake! Overhaul’s immortal. Probably thousands of years of experience on how to make you feel like you want this, like you’re only alive in the places he touches you… You’re at his mercy, if he has any. You never stood a chance.

“Then are you begging your god?” His body lowers directly onto yours and like you’re being controlled by puppet strings your arms fold around him and rake your fingernails uselessly into the smooth skin of his back. You can feel the vibration of his mirthless laughter through his chest. “It must hurt terribly…to know he isn’t listening.”

“Don’t—stop, please,” you sob. “Don’t say—don’t stop—please!”

“Listen to yourself, girl—“ Overhaul’s breath is faster now, but you don’t have time to question it because you feel your peak coming again, the tension rising up through your cunt and your abdomen, harsher and crueler than when his fingers were in you but you want it just as much. More. “Has he ever answered your prayers? Has he...ahh, fuck—who’s the one giving you what you need?”

“No— please, please just let me let me, please—“ You’re talking nonsense now, begging for the release—at least then it’ll be over, and you need it, you need it so badly you feel your muscles locking up, cramping, your ankles crossing each other behind Overhaul’s back.

“Good girl,” the demon breathes, and then he lifts off you so he’s kneeling upright with the two of you still connected, his thick, heavy cock still speared in your pussy, and his fingers come down again to rub at your clit. Everything’s so wet you can hear the motion of his fingers slicking themselves through your juices, sliding up and down the little button over and over and it feels so good that a tiny part of you almost wants to drag it out, to savor it, but the rest of your body is going to die, is going to go crazy if the demon doesn’t let you cum right now, right now, right now!

And he does. Praise the Lord. The pads of Overhaul’s fingers pass over your clit one last time and your head rolls back, your throat moves but you can’t even make a sound, your legs shake and you cum.

You didn’t know it was like this.

Your cunt squeezes down on his cock, throbbing and pulsing and your toes literally curl (you didn’t think that was a real thing!) and your vision goes black for a moment and—oh fuck oh fuck i want this i want more how is it possible that i’ve never felt like this—you understand, more intimately than ever, why sex is wrong:

because nothing that makes you feel this good could possibly come without a cost, could it?

///

It must take longer than you thought for you to come back to your senses, because when you regain awareness of your body you’re in your hospital bed. You’re clean, too, and you wonder for a second if Overhaul bothered to clean you up? Or no…he probably just snapped his fingers and transported you back to your room. You’re not really sure how it works.

What you are sure of, however, is that you just got fucked by a demon. You’re sore in places that you didn’t know it was possible to be sore, and there are already bruises forming on the flesh of your thighs from how tight he was holding you. You don’t really have time to inspect these, though, because apparently your…ordeal (if you can call it that) isn’t over.

Overhaul’s still here.

He’s facing the hints of sunrise through the east window, dressed again in the immaculate lab coat and surgeon’s mask. “You’re awake,” he says without looking at you.

You nod hesitantly. You’re not really sure what the protocol is in this situation, but at least you’ve finally held up your side of the contract, right? And so has he. Despite having been up all night doing sinful things, you’re still itching to get out of this bed and test the limits of your healthy body. “You’re…going to leave, right?”

“Yes—”

At that, you sigh in relief and settle back into your starched bedsheets.

“But there’s one more thing you owe me.”

“Goddamnit,” you swear for the very first time in your life. After what you just did, taking the Lord’s name in vain seems like a relatively minor sin.

Overhaul’s mildly irritated expression doesn’t change, but he holds his hand out to you, palm up, the way you imagine someone would if they were helping you out of a car or requesting a dance at an old-fashioned ball. And really, you want all of this to be over—you want to get out of this hospital, you want to taste what the air outside is like, you want to distract yourself from what you just gave up in exchange for a future. At this point you’re just going to have to hope God isn’t as picky about the whole premarital sex thing as you grew up believing.

So you put your hand in Overhaul’s.

Slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid it’ll burn him, he slides your purity ring down your finger and balances it in the palm of his bare hand. It sizzles when he touches it, glowing orange until it eventually burns down into a ash-black circle in the center of his palm. Once he’s satisfied that your pretty little ring has been reduced to nothing more than a scorch mark, he closes his hand around yours and you feel something sharp, painfully hot, etching onto your finger.

It’s over in a second, but you still yelp and yank your hand away from him as soon as he lets you. “Ah—ow, what was that?”

He burned you, he literally burned you! He’s already healed it, but there’s still a thin, pale scar, an intentional one left wrapping around the skin at the base of your left ring finger. Like a wedding ring.

When you look close, you can make out a symbol on the back of your finger where the cross used to sit—and even though your conscious mind doesn’t recognize it, the sight of it rings out something inside your ribcage, deeper and truer than flesh and blood. It’s the devil’s mark, you think. It’s his.

“…A promise,” Overhaul says softly, and even though it’s a chilly morning, you can feel the heat of his hands on yours a long time after he vanishes back into the dark.

[the-lonelybarricade]

Loved your latest chapter and Im so excited to see what happens under the mountain!

I was wondering if I could request a one-shot?(up to you how long and you can do it in your own time)something along the lines of:

Feyre( from either ACOWAR, ACOFAS or ACOSF) time travels back to ACOTAR, but instead of finding herself back in her human body i the spring court, she's still in her fae body and ends up trapped in velaris, having to explain to the rest of IC who she is and why she cant go free their highlord(add some mistrust from the IC)

🙈🙈Id its very similar to what youre doing rn with your other fic but, if you find the inspiration sometime could you please do this? Ive wanted to read a fic for ages were feyre rime travels and meets pre-acomaf inner circle who dont know/trust her, but Ive never found a fic like that

Thank youuu

Hi lovely anon! It makes me so happy you enjoyed my latest chapter! I’m supposed to be working on a project for uni, but I couldn’t resist gratifying my lovely friends (because you're anon and won't be notified I was getting sad at the idea of you checking my blog and not seeing me respond) <3 I’ll admit I’m a bit scatterbrained at the moment, so I hope it’s okay!

I was having trouble brainstorming a reason for Feyre getting sent back in time because I didn't want to borrow the reasoning from ACoFD. So I was vague and twisted the pre-existing rules around the Ouroboros, and ended up getting quite carried away with the story since I don’t like not giving things a happy ending (even though it’s a little cheesy, sorry)

Anyway, I hope this is what you were looking for! I know you wanted the angst of not being able to save Rhys but... I couldn't just leave my poor bat-boy behind, you know? ;)

Also if this didn't quite scratch that itch, I'm always happy to take more requests

Word count: 4,446

The Ouroboros.

It was a massive, round disc—as tall as Feyre was. Taller. And the metal around it had been fashioned after a massive serpent, the mirror held within its coils as it devoured its own tail.

Ending and beginning.

From across the room, Feyre could not see it. What lay within.

She forced herself to take a step forward. Another.

The mirror itself was black as night—yet… wholly clear.

She watched herself approach. Watched the arm she had upraised against the wind and snow, the pinched expression on her face. The exhaustion.

She stopped three feet away. She did not dare touch it.

It only showed Feyre herself. Nothing.

Feyre scanned the mirror for any signs of… something to push or touch with her magic. But there was only the devouring head of the serpent, its maw open wide, frost sparkling on its fangs.

Feyre stared and stared, but all she saw was herself. There was nothing else. Then—

Feyre woke with a gasp, sitting up in bed to shake away the cobwebs of sleep and the strange, foreboding feeling that felt draped around her shoulders like a weighted cape, pulling her down. It hadn’t been a particularly horrifying nightmare. In fact, it was perhaps of the tamer dreams she’d had in the last year.

Yet something about it clung to her, perhaps a lingering agitation that she’d yet to retrieve the mirror the Bone Carver had requested. That must be it.

The bed space beside her was cold. The sun peaking through the window was not high, it couldn’t be long past dawn. However worrisome her own dream, her mate’s must have been worse to draw him from sleep so early. Worse still for him to sneak away.

Feyre rose from the bed, reaching absently for Rhysand’s dressing robe to wrap around herself. She always loved to steal her mate’s clothes, to be wrapped in his scent.

With gentle steps, she made her way to the study, where she could only assume Rhys had sequestered himself in the lone hours of the night. She’d noticed the weary draw to his shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes. This war was weighing on him heavily, and he was nervous. Feyre wished he didn’t insist on shouldering the burden alone.

“Rhys?” Feyre called softly as she got to the study, knocking on the door before she cracked it open.

Peeking her head around the door, she was met with the sight of Rhysand’s abandoned study. The scattered papers and war maps that had become characteristic of his desk space were surprisingly missing. In fact, the whole space had been cleared away and there was a thick layer of dust on every surface as if no one had been in here in years.

Feyre frowned at the sight, and how different it had been just the day before. Where had all the dust come from? And more importantly, where was Rhys? Perhaps he’d taken a morning flight to clear his head.

Where are you, love? She called to him through the mating bond, but was met with silence.

“Who are you?”

The voice was cold and venomous. Feyre turned, coming face to face with Mor, whose face was twisted into a threatening scowl.

“Mor?” Feyre asked, confused by her friend’s cold demeanor. “What do you mean? Have you seen Rhys?”

Mor’s face turned deadly, a look Feyre had only ever seen from Mor in the Court of Nightmares. “Is that some kind of joke?” she snarled.

Then, before Feyre could process what was happening, Mor had gripped onto Feyre’s wrist and they were enveloped in darkness. They stepped into the House of Wind, into the dining room where Cassian and Azriel abruptly stood up.

“Mor?” Feyre questioned when the blonde didn’t release her steel grip. She looked to Cassian and Azriel quizzically. “Guys? What’s going on?”

Cassian crossed his arms, assessing Feyre with a hostility that put her on edge. “Who’s this, Mor?” he asked gruffly.

Feyre frowned as she watched Azriel reach for Truth-Teller.

“Is this a joke?” she asked, flitting her eyes to each of her friends. Where she sought that friendly warmth in each of their gazes she was met with hard stares, filled with distrust, ready for a brawl. She couldn’t make sense of it. Was this an act Rhys had put them up to?

“I found her in the townhouse,” Mor said. “I don’t know how she got in there. She was in Rhysand’s study.”

“And she’s wearing his dressing gown,” Azriel noted dryly. Cassian did a double glance, his eyes going wide, then narrowing with a rage Feyre had never seen from the male. Certainly never directed at her.

There was a whisper of shadow, then suddenly Azriel was behind her, Truth-Teller poised at her throat.

Feyre startled. “Azriel!” she said sharply. Even if it was a joke, Feyre couldn’t imagine Rhysand would sanction this kind of threat. And the energy in the room was off, the tension too thick. “Stand down.”

“And who are you,” he breathed in her ear, his voice coated in shadow and nightmare, “to command the Shadowsinger of the Night Court?”

“I’m your High Lady,” Feyre answered steadily, not letting Azriel’s shadows, nor cunning voice, shake her resolve. “Now, I don’t know what is going on with the three of you, or what strange joke you’re trying to pull, but you will listen to what I say. Put. Your. Knife. Down.”

“High Lady?” Cassian repeated with a snort of disbelief. “You’ve got balls, little girl.”

Truth-Teller danced across the skin of her neck, pressing lightly enough to intimidate without breaking skin. “Do you even know to whom you speak? You should be bowing before the acting Queen of the Night Court.”

Too stunned to properly resist, Azriel kicked his feet out to knock Feyre to her knees in front of Mor. His fingers slid into her hair, gripping it tightly to pull her head back as Truth-Teller resumed its threatening position at her throat.

“Breaking into the High Lord’s personal residence, impersonating a high position within the Night Court, lying to the Morrigan’s face,” Azriel listed, increasing the pressure of the blade with each transgression. “You throw our High Lord’s generosity and protection in his face, something we as his acting Court do not take lightly.”

“Acting court? Acting Queen?” Feyre repeated, feeling as if she’d woken to a different reality. “What are you talking about? Where’s Rhysand!?”

“We’re the ones asking the questions here,” Cassian growled.

Feyre looked to each of her friends, studying their faces. Beyond their militant expression, she could see their grief. Could smell it. She repeated, “where is Rhysand?”

She felt the snarl that rumbled through Azriel’s chest behind her, vibrating against her back. When the question was once again unanswered, Feyre abandoned all sense of patience.

Darkness exploded through the room. She heard Mor gasp as the walls of the House shook from the might of her power. Feyre folded into the shadows, winnowing out of Azriel’s grasp so she stood in the center of the three of them.

“Az, Cass, Mor, you are my friends and I do not want to hurt you. But I am also your High Lady and you will answer me this instant, where is Rhys? Where is my mate!?”

Siphons gleamed red and blue through the thick tendrils of night, illuminating the Illyrian males’ faces. Cassian’s jaw had fallen open, while Azriel was studying her through narrowed eyes, wisps of shadow surrounding him. Feyre wondered what they were whispering to him.

“Mate?” Cassian echoed, the first to break the heavy silence.

Mor took a cautious step forward, her countenance completely changed. Her pupils were blown wide, twin brown depths churning with sorrow and gentle astonishment. Azriel went rigid at Mor’s approach, but no one moved to stop her as she came face to face with Feyre.

“Where did you get this?” she whispered, taking Feyre’s left hand, eye fixed on her mating band. On the sapphire-star ring that once belonged to Rhysand’s mother.

All eyes befell the subject of Mor’s attention. Cassian swore softly in recognition.

“It’s my mating band,” Feyre answered measuredly, still puzzled that the inner circle, her family, didn’t seem to have any memory of it. Nor of her. “I won it from the Weaver, as was the task set by Rhysand’s mother. But you were all there for that. I don’t understand what’s going on. Where. Is. Rhys?”

“Under the Mountain,” Mor whispered, her voice soft and pained.

The darkness ebbed away like a receding tide. Feyre felt her heart sink as she tried to process this information. “He—What?”

“He’s been Under the Mountain for the last 50 years,” Mor said, firmer this time. “And if you were his so-called mate, you would know that.”

“No,” Feyre said, shaking her head vehemently. “No, that’s impossible. We got out. We—”

This was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare, and she just hadn’t woken up from it.

“Amarantha’s dead,” Feyre insisted, mostly in an attempt to console the unparalleled grief and panic that were raging inside her. “She’s dead, and Rhys and I got out.”

The grim faces of her friends said otherwise. They stared at her, in unbearable mixtures of pity and horror.

“I think she’s having a mental break,” Cassian said, not unkindly. “Should we get a healer?”

“Let me show you,” Feyre said meekly, casting her magic out to tap on their mental shields.

They all tensed, clearly not aware they’d been in the presence of a daemati. Trained well by Rhys, they all cracked their shields just enough for Feyre to send her conjured memories through. She showed them going Under the Mountain as a human, winning the trials and being resurrected, falling in love with Rhys, and eventually becoming High Lady of the Night Court. In turn, the three of them pushed back their own memories, of the current state of the world. Of Rhysand sacrificing himself so that his Court and Velaris would be safe.

A sob broke out of Feyre. “How is this possible? How am I here?”

It was Azriel who immediately went for the jugular. “More importantly, if you’re here as a High Fae, how is Rhys going to get out? How do we stop Amarantha?”

Feyre fell to her knees, grief-stricken by this realization. She was no longer human. She couldn’t stride in as Tamlin’s human lover and undergo the trials. Feyre had her powers, but they were untested. Would she be able to take on the whole of Amarantha’s court?

“What do I do? How do I save him?” she whimpered, staring in mute horror at her mating band.

Mor tentatively reached forward, laying a comforting hand on Feyre’s shoulder. “Rhys sacrificed himself to keep the people he loves safe. He wouldn’t want you getting yourself killed trying to save him.”

“I have to try,” Feyre answered desperately. “Amarantha she’s…” Feyre couldn’t bring herself to say the word, rape. Not to his family, who wear his sacrifice for them like an open wound. “She’s doing unspeakable things to him. He’s suffering so much. I can’t leave him to that fate. I have to try.”

With renewed conviction, Feyre accepted Mor’s outstretched hand and picked herself to her feet. “Rhys said it himself once. Amarantha’s biggest weapon is that she keeps the High Lord’s power contained. She can’t access them herself. But I… I have access to all the High Lords’ powers. And that bitch has my mate. My wrath will be plenty to take her down.” She faced her friends, who watched her warily. “You have my word as your High Lady,” she swore to them. “The High Queen of Prythian is going to fall by the night’s end.”

⟡⟡⟡

Winter had not yet fallen in the Mortal Lands. Feyre wondered if across the world, there was a version of herself curled in a bed with her sisters, clinging to any shred of warmth and survival.

That version of Feyre was very different from the version who strode up the sloping hills of the Spring Court with Azriel by her side. Rhys would be furious that Feyre had allowed him to accompany her. Should anything go wrong, it would destroy her mate to know his family had been put in harm's way after everything he’d done to protect them. Which was why it was only Azriel who came with, the only compromise she could reach with his Inner Circle, who insisted on coming with.

Who better to sneak into the Mountain with than the very soldier who taught Feyre the art of stealth. He was the obvious choice, since Mor needed to stay to rule the Night Court and Cassian was too heavy-handed to handle such a delicate task.

Their footfall was silent. Feyre wrapped them in the shadow of Night as they winnowed through the cave network. Her heart hammered in her chest, panicked to be back in the source of so many nightmares.

But Rhysand was more important than her fear. For him, she would not falter.

With the Shadowsinger by her side, Feyre snuck through the winding tunnels until she came to a familiar passageway. They slid into a massive, dark bedroom, lit only by a few candles.

To attack Amarantha in the throne room would be too messy. Too many variables to contend with, should Amarantha have enough wit about her to use any faeries as a shield. Especially Rhysand.

After several hours of waiting, the lock on the door clicked and swung open. Darkness swirled around the room as Rhysand took in the sight of Feyre and Azriel on the bed.

Immediately, the door slammed shut.

“No,” he whispered, voice dripping with horror. “No.”

“Rhys—” Feyre started, but her mate wasn’t paying any attention to her. He was looking at Azriel as if his whole world had shattered.

“Leave,” he said, his voice cold and commanding. This was no happy reunion between brothers. This was Rhysand’s worst nightmare. “Leave this instant, you stupid fool. That is, if you’re lucky enough to have avoided detection when you passed under her wards.”

“I took down the wards,” Feyre said. They weren’t particularly strong, either. Amarantha had gotten lazy, perhaps thinking herself secure with the only spell-cleaver under her control. Or so she believed.

Rhys turned that quiet fury towards her. “And who are you?”

“Your mate,” Feyre answered steadily, tipping her chin up.

Rhysand laughed. A desperate, humorless sound. “Then you are just as foolish as my idiot brother. And you have both sealed your deaths by being here. Do you understand that?”

Feyre scratched along those familiar adamantite shields. Rhys’s eyes flickered in surprise, but otherwise he looked unruffled as he cracked a sliver open for her.

It would be unwise to underestimate me, mate.

I wouldn’t be going around boasting about such a thing, if what you claim is even true, came his icy response. And I wouldn’t count on a few party tricks to save you, either.

And what if I told you, she purred, that I possess the power of all seven High Lords?

That, at least, garnered a reaction from the stoic male. He narrowed his eyes in disbelief, studying Feyre carefully. His gaze caught on her hands, at the lace tattoos that flowed to her fingers. And the mating band she still wore.

Feyre watched those violet eyes go wide, the silver constellations dancing in astonishment at the sight of his mother’s ring.

Where did you get that?

It’s a long story, love, but you’re going to have to trust me. She lowered her mental shields completely. Have a look for yourself. I’m telling you no lies. I am your High Lady, and I am here to free my husband.

She felt those familiar talons wrap around her mind. A foolish thing to do, to give a daemati unrestricted access to her mind. And if it were anyone but Rhys, it would have been. But his touch was gentle, and he took only the information he needed.

“I don’t understand how this is possible,” he whispered, breaking the silence of the room. Azriel had been waiting patiently, but looked relieved to be included in the conversation once more. “And I hate that you’ve put yourselves in danger for this, but it could work.”

Rhys considered for a long moment, then he looked between Feyre and Azriel and said, “do it when she’s sleeping. That bitch has been playing dirty for 50 years, you might as well level the playing field to give yourselves the best chance. Let’s do it tonight. I’ll leave the door unlocked, wear her out, and signal you once she’s asleep. Her spell prevents me from harming her, but I’ll make sure she’s restrained. All you have to do is drive the ash dagger through her heart, but have your magic ready for damage control.”

⟡⟡⟡

Feyre and Azriel waited in Rhysand’s bedchambers for his signal. There was a revelry tonight, as there was every night Under the Mountain, and Rhys was expected to be in attendance. Afterwards, he’d join Amarantha in her bed and make sure she was, in his words, “thoroughly exhausted”.

It was torturous for Feyre. To know exactly what the implication in those words were, to have to use her mate’s body in such a way. She wanted to roar at the Mountain, at the Cauldron, at anything that would listen, but instead she was next to the quiet, brooding Shadowsinger, and lamented in silence.

She’d begged Rhys to reconsider, to perhaps help them stage a more physical encounter that didn’t rely on his own suffering. But he’d denied any plan but the one he’d proposed, insisting it would cause him more anguish to but Feyre and Azriel in harm's way.

So they waited the long, agonizing hours until she felt a delicate pull at her chest. She’s asleep, Rhys called. Be on your guard.

He sent her directions to Amarantha’s bedchambers. There were guards outside, but Feyre and Azriel winnowed past them, cloaked in night and shadow.

Amarantha’s bedchambers were huge. Feyre had never been inside them before, but she was unsurprised to see they provided any luxury a High Queen could wish for.

Atop a large bed of red, silken sheets, lay her mate and Amarantha, both stark naked. The smell of sex clung to the air, Rhysand and Amarantha’s scents intertwined. Feyre thought she might be sick.

Even more sickening was the sight before her, of Amarantha’s arms restrained to the headboard in cloth. A clever way for Rhys to restrain her under the guise of sex, but horrifying nonetheless, to see the proof of what they’d been up to. The female was fast asleep, so convinced of her authority that she could fall asleep tied-up and not feel vulnerable doing so. How satisfying, Feyre thought, that such arrogance would be her downfall.

Feyre warded the room, putting up a shield of darkness so that no sound would break through to alert the guards. Rhys watched their approach warily from where he perched beside Amarantha, so still Feyre was convinced he held his breath.

He wouldn’t risk moving to wake her up, which terrified Feyre. Should something go wrong, her mate would be susceptible to Amarantha’s wrath. Naked, vulnerable, and completely under her control. It was such a dangerous game they were playing.

The room was as quiet and still as the bewitching hours of the night, their footsteps silent as they picked across the room. Azriel held the ash dagger. If Rhys could not kill Amarantha, his brother wanted to do it on his behalf. Meanwhile, Feyre summoned tendrils of night that carefully wrapped around Amarantha’s legs, slithering up her body like a snake, ready to constrict and restrain.

The female stirred in her sleep, perhaps feeling the ghostlike touch of Feyre’s magic. But she did not wake. Not as Azriel raised the dagger over her chest, and not as he plunged it down.

Amarantha’s eyes shot open as the dagger pierced her chest. She let out a shriek of agony and ire, moving to claw at her attacker. She raged against the restraints, spewing obscenities until they died at her lips as the blade sunk into her heart.

Rhysand’s chest was heaving as he watched the female still, then slump. He looked from her dead body, to Azriel and Feyre.

Feyre’s heart sank as she watched her mate process that it was truly over. There wasn’t a trace of elation in his eyes at being liberated, but she understood why. Rhys would finally be returning home, but as a much different man than the one he had been. He’d survived, but not unscathed, and he’d need time to process this.

Feyre came to him, reached towards her mate with the hand that bore his mother’s ring. Rhys looked to it, then up to her. His eyes were clouded with sorrow, with a melancholy she could only hope to chip away at in time. But she could see stirring beneath it was a breath of hope, perhaps the first he’d allowed himself in a long time.

“Let’s go home, Rhys,” she said gently.

Slowly, Rhysand nodded, moving to grasp her hand. She felt him jolt at the touch and, as she glanced at him questioningly, she saw his lips part in wonder.

I suppose you weren’t lying about being my mate, he whispered, the words a sensual brush in her mind. Thank you for coming to rescue me, High Lady.

Feyre grasped onto Azriel, and together the three of them stepped into darkness.

Then, they were above the House of Wind, tumbling through the night sky. Feyre unfurled her wings before Rhys could move to catch them, worried that her mate would struggle after 50 years without flight.

Both males stared in astonishment at the sight. Rhysand’s eyes danced in awe as Feyre, albeit clumsily, carried them to the training ring on the roof.

Rhys snapped his own wings open as they landed. Feyre watched him tilt his head back in rapture as he felt the wind against his wings for the first time in decades. Then he opened his eyes, his expression shifting to reverence as he beheld the night sky.

“I was beginning to think I’d never see it again,” he whispered, his voice a heartbreaking blend of exaltation and disbelief. “And for this gift… for my salvation to be courtesy of my mate and of my brother… I’m a bit overwhelmed,” he admitted sheepishly.

Feyre hesitated. If this was the Rhysand from before, the one to which she was mated and married, she would come to comfort him. But this version of Rhys had only just been freed from enslavement, and she didn’t know what he needed.

As though sensing her hesitation, Rhys cast his eyes back to the sky. “I know they’re all waiting for me downstairs, but I’d like a little bit of time with the stars. Will you let them know, Az?”

Azriel nodded, though he seemed conflicted. His reunion with his brother was perhaps not as merry as the male had expected. But right now, she knew the Inner Circle would hardly deny Rhys anything. Perhaps for a long while yet. So Azriel headed downstairs to inform their friends, who were sure to be anxiously awaiting their arrival.

Rhysand regarded Feyre carefully once the two of them were alone. “Mate and High Lady,” he mused. “You seem to wear many hats.”

“You forgot ‘wife’,” Feyre said lightly.

“Yes, and ‘Salvation’, ‘Queen Killer’, ‘Most Beautiful Female in Prythian’, it seems there’s many things I could call you. Could we start with your name, perchance?”

Feyre was shocked. She’d assumed he’d taken such information out of her mind earlier, but it seems he’d been even more respectful than she’d expected.

“Feyre,” she answered. “My name is Feyre.”

He looked wonderstruck. “Feyre,” he repeated, testing the name on his lips. A gentle smile curled at the corners of his mouth, the first she’d seen from him yet. He extended his hand towards her. “Would you like to watch the stars with me, Feyre?”

It was an offer she couldn’t refuse. Her hand found his with all the casual grace of a dancer, as if it were a routine they’d been perfecting their whole lives. Their fingers interlocked and as one, they stared up at the dazzling night sky.

This reality wasn’t perfect, Feyre thought. This Rhys was different from her own, and he still had a lot of healing to do. But if she could be there for him, to help him in a ways she hadn’t before, then she would be grateful to the strange eddies of the Cauldron for bringing her here. For allowing her to end his torment early. For giving them this extra time.

She watched a shooting star dart across the sky and smiled as it passed. There was nothing she could wish for except that her mate find peace in all that he’d endured the last half century.

His deep, velvety voice cut through the silence. “Do you often wish on stars, Feyre?”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was watching her with a heart-wrenching wistfulness.

“Only when I have a wish worthy of the stars.”

“And do you?”

Feyre looked to the northernmost star, which shined brightest in the sky. “I wished for a light in the darkness,” she told him. “I don’t think the stars would ever begrudge such a wish.”

Rhysand nodded solemnly. “It’s true that they would be begrudging themselves in doing so. But I see no need for you to wish for such a thing.”

Feyre looked to him. He was still watching her, but something in him had shifted. He was smiling at her gently, that lingering sadness already receding. “Why’s that?” she asked cautiously.

That gentle smile widened, showing off his brilliant teeth. “Why, Feyre, to find such a thing, all you’d need to do is look in a mirror.”

[pluviophile-imagines]

LOWI CONGRATS ON THE FOLLOWER MILESTONE!! 🥺💞💞💞 u deserve it and so much more!! for the kiss prompt could i get 18 with shinsou ?? 🥺👉👈

TYSM SOFFFF so uh. I’ve been fuckin stupid dkfnskfb my dumbass rlly wrote Shinsou correctly on my master post like a week ago and then still managed to write for Shigaraki instead when it came to the actual piece 😳 so thanks to my handyman brainrot you get two—that’s right, two!—characters for the price of one ur welcome ♥️ I cheated a lil bit so shinsou;s not sitting in the reader’s lap it’s just his head but i think its cute 🥺 also Shiggy’s is like twice as long as ive been trying to write them oops i rlly like the jealous reader premise 👉👈 it’s under the read more bc of that and bc of kiiiinda spoilers? if yall arent caught up to the manga you won’t get it but if u are it’s canonical. Whew that was a lot! Enjoy!

Kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap

Shinsou

To say that your relationship with Shinsou is new would be an understatement. You’ve been friends for years—ever since the third year of high school when you’d been assigned to him as his support—but you’ve never been particularly close until recently when you’d once again found yourself working on his hero costume and support items.

He’d only asked you out yesterday after nearly two months of tension-filled glances and fleeting touches. Now, the two of you are watching a movie at your mutual friend Kirishima’s apartment, sitting quite awkwardly on a loveseat and pretending like you don’t want to get closer to each other. You haven’t told your friends yet about your new relationship status, but that’s not entirely what’s holding you two back. If anything, it’s run-of-the-mill first date awkwardness (if watching a movie with six of your closest friends around can be considered a date), too afraid to initiate anything.

The movie’s dull; the two of you have pulled out your phones to snark at each other through text, a strategy you’d begun weeks ago after being hushed one too many times by Kaminari because you were talking too loudly. The bright screens probably aren’t all that much better, but you two are in the back anyway; nobody can see it unless they turn away from the TV.

You risk a glance up and end up locking eyes with Shinsou. Your face heats up, heartbeat quickening, as he gives you a charming smile. You watch him glance around the room, unsure at first why he’s doing it until he turns his attention back to you and slowly, silently, moves over across the loveseat into your personal space.

Your legs are touching now, faces so close your nose is nearly brushing his. One of his hands has come to brace against the armrest you’re leaning on, allowing him to stay leaning in.

“Hey,” he says, little more than a whisper and clearly hushed so the others don’t hear.

“Hey yourself,” you respond, earning yourself a low snort.

Instead of vocally responding, he pushes himself back up to a sitting position and then moves his hands to maneuver your legs until you’re no longer curled up against the couch’s backing but sitting like a normal person.

Then he lays down, head resting on your thighs, and turns to face the movie.

You’re grinning uncontrollably. All possible self-conscious thoughts of the others seeing you are dashed from your mind; you like the weight of him in your lap too much.

You spend much of the rest of the movie like that, easily over half an hour. A few minutes in he reaches down to find your hand and bring it to his hair, encouraging you to stroke it. It’s even softer than you’ve imagined in the past, fluffy and thick and genuinely nice to run your hands though. There’s a surge of contentment that rushes through you, and maybe a little bit of pride at the knowledge that you can do this pretty much any time you want now.

By the end of the film, you’re pretty sure Shinsou’s fallen asleep. He gives you the scare of your life, however, when he grabs your arm as you’re trying to pull away. His eyes open, purple irises trained on you.

What happens next you blame on grogginess, him still not quite being awake. He blames it on you; whenever you mention it, he says he saw you and had become consumed with an overwhelming desire to just lean up and kiss you. Whatever the reason, it’s nice for you.

His hand comes up to the back of your neck, tugging you down just as much as he lifts up. It begins soft, kind of sweet, just lips as the two of you melt into each other—but it doesn’t stay that way for long. Within moments the two of you morph the kiss from a quick peck after a movie to a very passionate makeout, and frankly you’d be more concerned if they hadn’t interrupted the two of you.

You pull away when you hear Kaminari’s wolf whistle, left sitting on the loveseat with a burning face and your boyfriend in your lap, still half asleep.

Shigaraki

You’re not jealous.

No, you’ve been dating Tomura for months. You can’t be jealous when he’s, well, yours, and has been for quite some time. You’re his first relationship, his first everything, and it’s frankly foolish of you to feel this insecure just because some floozy is simpering at him from across the enormous room where you and the rest of the League are scattered about. It’s not like she really wants him, or even knows him; he’s just the hew big-shot leader and she’s decided being his lover sounds good. Too bad that role’s already taken.

Still, there’s a sinking feeling in your chest—an ache in your heart, a burning lump in your throat—that says now that Tomura is Grand Commander he’ll drop you for someone better.

You don’t realize you’re glaring daggers at the woman until she catches your eye. She has no business looking that smug; the only reason she’s allowed in the room is to give Tomura reports. You’re the one lounging next to him as she approaches; he has your legs over his lap, his thumb absent-mindedly rubbing circles on your thigh.

And when she bends down to drop the report on his lap (as if your damn legs aren’t there, you want to scoff) she draws the eyes of every League member except the one she wants, because you’re the one who has Tomura’s attention.

He’s wearing Father, but you’ve long passed being afraid when he looks at you from between those lifeless digits and you can see the expression beneath; those lips tugging down slightly in a pout, brow furrowed, eyes far softer than they have any damn business being while hiding behind the severed hand of his old man. He’s concerned, and a little confused.

Tomura plucks the report from your legs and sets it aside, reaching to pull you fully into his lap. To your surprise he takes Father off, too; he buries his face into your neck to prevent the outsider from seeing, lips just brushing your ear so that you can hear him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been pouting ever since the secretary came in, brat.”

Like hell you’re saying anything in front of her. You remain stubbornly silent.

He doesn’t like that, you can tell, but while the secretary’s interest is lost on him he knows you well enough to tell that you’re uncomfortable with her. Presumably that’s why he doesn’t press the issue and kisses you instead.

You don’t expect it. Tomura’s not exactly one to shy away from PDA (you’re sitting in his lap in front of the whole League, for fuck’s sake), but intimacy is something he’s never wanted to take beyond closed doors. When he’s in a sour mood you’ll kiss him sometimes, even in public (he’s invigorated by your affection in many way, but never anything you’d call heated.

This kiss, though, is. It’s anything but chaste, perhaps even downright lewd. He’s all but initiating a makeout with you while Miss Secretary is standing right there. Maybe his affection-motivated ways are rubbing off on you, but it helps more than it probably ought to.

You’re dazed by the time he pulls away. The sound of the door slamming closed snaps you from your trance. The secretary, ploy foiled simply by your annoyed expression, had left. It doesn’t matter. None of this was ever really about her in the first place.

“There,” Tomura says, audibly quite pleased with himself. “She’s gone. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh, leaning in to tuck your own head into his shoulder. Your voice is muffled when you speak, quiet so that only he can hear.

“It’s dumb.”

“It’s bothering you,” he says simply. There’s an underlying statement there: tell me so I can destroy it for you. In many ways, Tomura is a predictable man.

You know he’s not going to drop it, so you accept your fate. “She was making a pass at you.”

He tenses beneath you, holding you closer. You risk lifting your head from where it’s buried to see the way his nose is scrunched up. “She wasn’t.”

“Yeah, she was.”

There’s a pause, like he’s processing everything you’re saying. Then, seemingly finally registering what exactly is bothering you, his hands move to grip your hips and maneuver you to straddle him, sitting fully on his lap facing him. “Fine. Why’re you pissed about it, then?”

You lean in again, arms coming to wrap around his neck as you bury your face into his chest and try to ignore the tears that are coming. You’d never be able to live it down if any of the others saw you crying over the fucking secretary.

But you know more than anyone thanks to many late nights assuring your boyfriend he’s the only one for you that Tomura can empathize with this insecurity. It’s a little strange how the script has flipped.

“She’s a high ranking MLA member, she probably has some crazy strong quirk. I’m quirkless. I dunno. I guess I’m scared you’ll drop me for someone like her. Like I said, it’s dumb.”

He doesn’t speak for a moment. You sit there, listening to his heartbeat and matching your breathing to his. Then he speaks.

“Your emotions aren’t dumb. It’s okay that you’re feeling this way. Thank you for telling me.” He’s parroting you, you realize; this is what you tell him every time he comes to you for comfort when he’s gotten in a mood. You feel a little fuzzy, warmth flooding your chest. “But I think we both know they’re irrational.”

“Tomura… I—”

“I’m not interested in some lame-ass NPC,” he interrupts, no hesitation and entirely sincere. He doesn’t even need to think about it. “You’re my player two, my endgame. The only thing in this world worth protecting. You really think that secretary can hold a candle to you? I didn’t even notice her. Why would I when you’re here?”

You can’t help it, you surge upward and kiss him, just as passionately as he had you mere moments before. His right hand traces up your spine to find the back of your neck and pull you closer, sending a thrill through your body as your own arms tighten around him.

“Oi! Horndogs! Get a damn room, don’t make us see that!”

You break away at Dabi’s words, panting slightly, and if the sincerity of Tomura’s little rant hadn’t convinced you that his words were true, the look of utter adoration he’s regarding you with would have.

[elles-writing]

Dragon Heart - IV.

Taglist: @guardianofrivendell @anjhope1 @legolasoftherings @kumqu4t @grunid @elvish-sky @artsywaterlily @alexloveskili

If you want to be added to tag list, send me a message or comment please.

Warnings/triggers: -

She looked over at Bilbo, who was stirring, and decided it would be a good idea to prepare him a cup of warm tea with some honey and milk. Y/N remembered Bilbo loved this as a child.

So, her next steps took her to the hobbit's kitchen.

Before she stepped inside, Y/N noticed one - perhaps from the older ones - dwarf, who prepared a steaming cup of tea already.

The dwarf didn't seemed to trust her - of course - but his eyes little softened, because she knew Gandalf and Bilbo.

"What tea is that?" Y/N asked instead, genuiely interested.

"Charmomile, for Master Baggins." Y/N hummed and the dwarf quickly left the little hobbit kitchen. You looked around, more concentrated this time. Then, you looked over the hall, pantry, and living room, where was Bilbo, Gandalf and some of the dwarves.

Baggins', now Bilbo's house, has never been un-practical. Maybe for Y/N by it's size, but other than that, there was everything one would need for life.

When Bilbo catched her eyes, Y/N could clearly see he was uncomfortable, upset and absolutely, absolutely done with the subject.

The dwarves.

But most importantly...

Gandalf.

You shrugged, and decided to leave him his burglar-not-burglar game. Bilbo would not be patient forever, but he was mannered and clever enough to know what to do. You were sure the hobbit would feel his Took side with desire for an adventure again.

And take his chance to escape Sackville-Baginses.

As you walked around, you noticed some of the pictures. They seemed to be new - or at least you didn't remembered them.

You walked closer, and stepped on something. You looked down, and noticed it was a dagger. You've never seen the design before, but assumed it must be one of the dwarves'. You picked it up and studied it, when you overheard a voice next to you.

"Careful with this, it's been just sharpened." You turned to see a blonde, blue-eyed dwarf, with braided moustache. He seemed to have the same twinkle in his eyes as Kili.

"I can handle sharp things," Y/N said and looked back at the knife.

"It's nice. Not too light, but not as heavy either." Y/N was thinking aloud. She completely forgot the dwarf next to her, as she studied the dagger.

"You know Master Baggins," He suddenly said. Y/N turned to him.

What the-did he just-

"I do," You nodded, and placed the dagger to his hand.

What the-no, he just didn't-

"You don't look like you are related," he continued.

"That's because we aren't." You ended the topic. Instead, it was your time to ask.

"Who are you?"

"Fili, at your service m'lady," he gently took your hand and kissed the back of your hand, his eyes not leaving yours.

"Y/N, at yours...Fili," You said.

"Oh, Y/N, can I-can I talk to you, for a second?" Bilbo came and you gladly walked aside with him, while Fili send you a wink.

"Bilbo, to answer some of your questions - no, I didn't knew-"

"I'm not talking about the, the dwarves," Bilbo looked over the room with frown on his face.

"Then what is it, my little friend?" You said quietly in attempt to brighten up the situation. Bilbo was almost adorable with frowned pouty face, hands folded on his chest, patting the floor with his foot...only if you could stand straight in his house. Your back thought the size of his house was not adorable at all.

"Well, um...did Gandalf told you to bring them along?" You looked at him with scrunched face, and rolled your eyes.

"I wouldn't be coming if I knew there were dwarves involved. So, if anything, I share your unpopular opinion." And ruffled his hair. He jumped up.

"I'm not a little hobbit anymore, you don't have to do this," Bilbo said through gritted teeth, and you grinned.

"Well, you still are kind of little," You teased him futher, until a dwarf with sharp blue eyes, long, dark hair, and the biggest grumpy and pouty face you've ever seen (not even Bilbo could do that, when he was angy little hobbit).

That dwarf shot you a glare, and also to Bilbo, who was taken aside by him and Gandalf, again.

You felt sorry for Bilbo.

When he was free, you overheard him muttering something about 'surely not going', 'not going anywhere', 'wizards', and so on. You decided to go to sleep, because all of the dwarves were asleep already, and you needed to be up early.

You woken up quickly. The first thing you've heard was the snoring. You scrunched your face, and quickly packed your things. Then, you walked out of Bag End, and decided to wait for them there.

The sunrise was nice time, especially to prepare your horse for the day.

"Shh," you cooed her quietly. It was beautiful mare, tall, and very, very clever.

"It will be okay. We will find dad, and we will go away, to live far away...everything is going to be just fine," You muttered.

"You ready?" Kili stood next to you with a grin on his face. You jumped up a little.

"I am." You said, and noticed Kili's expression as he looked at your horse. You let out a laugh.

"You've never seen a horse before?" Kili walked back a little.

"Not really," he said and you noticed his blushed cheeks.

"Kili!" You both looked over to Fili, standing between two ponies, who called him.

-

"Do you think Bilbo will come?" Kili asked you.

"That hobbit won't show up," Balin said. He was on his pony next to Kili, so he thought he talked to him.

"It's no surprise. Why would Master Baggins leave his home," Thorin (as was the grumpy dwarf named) said.

"I wouldn't understimate hobbits, and especially not Master Baggins," Gandalf said as he smoked his pipe.

"I am sure he is going to come," He said.

And that's when the bet started.

-

It wasn't even five minutes after you left Shire, when you overheard Bilbo's voice in the distance.

"Waaait!"

You looked over to Gandalf, who was hiding a laugh.

"You planned this?" You quietly asked and motioned to the hobbit, who was breathing heavily.

"Well, perhaps," he said, and you scoffed a little and shook your head, as the dwarves seated Bilbo on his pony.

-

The day was beautiful. It was actually quite warm, just warm so you could put down your cloak.

As the evening was approaching, and the sun was setting into palette of gold and velvet, and the sky was getting darker, Thorin decided it was time to set up camp. After a quick argument with Gandalf, the wizard left to seek company of himself. So, there was nothing easier, than to just finding the best place to place your bedroll.

You, Fili and Kili were on first watch. You laid down on your bedroll, and watched the stars. It was cloudless night, plus the crackling sound of fire, and smell of fresh night air was relaxing.

Bilbo was just coming back from his pony, when a sound in distance made him freeze.

"W-what was that?" He pointed to the distance, while looking at Kili.

"Orcs," he said in low, deep voice. You sat up. Bilbo had a part of Took in himself, but he was not that much of a Took.

"There is going to be plenty of those," Fili said, and, obviously, Kili continued.

"They come at night, no screams, just lots of blood," He looked at Bilbo, and the shadows in his face, along with his deep and low voice made it come out horribly scary. Him and Fili started chuckling, but you sighed.

"The way you two snore would make them run for hills, so I wouldn't be that worried," You said, and noticed Bilbo to relax by the corner of your eye.

Kili looked over at you. You pulled out book from your pack. He quickly recognized it, even in the darkness of the night. It was that book you flipped through back in Bag End.

You sat comfortably down, and looked over the illustrations on the pages, and softly touched them.

"What is the book you are reading about, lassie?" Balin asked. You didn't looked up.

"It's a book with tales and stories my...father wrote down," you answered.

"He used to read them to me," you shrugged.

"Would you read some of them-ow, what was that for?!" Kili whisper-yelled at his brother, who chuckled.

"You're a child, Kee," He muttered to himself, and Kili pouted. But Fili was curious as well, which Kili didn't needed to know.

"Well...this one," You flipped a few pages futher.

"This one is called Strange thief and the stars," Y/N comfortably sat and started reading.

"There was once a man. He wasn't very known by name, but by his eyes. His eyes, deep and dark, with sparkles, reminding of stars. Nobody has ever seen eyes like this before, and people were whispering he has stars themselves in his eyes," You slid the tips of your fingers over the drawing, remembering the precision your father has made into repairing them.

"Many women tried to grab his attention, but anytime they didn't sucsceeded, the sparks in their eyes were less visible, but in his as well. And that is why men has decided to call him 'the thief of stars', or a 'strange thief of stars'. He was wandering through the lands, until he found what, as he realized, was looking for,"

"What happened next?" Bilbo asked.

"That girl didn't want to talk to him. She was very kind and caring, but not naive. One day, however, she found a dragon. Big dragon, who seemed scary, but saved her from orcs. The beast's eyes reminded her of someone, yet she didn't knew of whom." You realized everyone was quiet, listening to you, as you spoken.

"The next day, she met the man. He runned into her, in a rush, in a fear - and asked her "Did you see the dragon too?". The young maiden nodded, and helped him to get to safety, as he was very nervous and scared. Since that day, they became closer and closer. One day, when a few years passed, her father - an old, wise and kind man - said, his daughter will marry someone, who gives her something very special. The young man came the next day in their house they lived in. He said," you flipped the page.

" 'I do not have much to offer - gold, silver, or gems - but I do have this," he took out a notebook out of his coat, and offered it. The girl's father took the notebook, and opened it. It was full of drawings of flowers, animals and people - but mainly of one special maiden, when she was laughing, collecting flowers, brushing her hair, cooking, reading...When she came there, and looked throught the book, her father looked at her, and she nodded. So, he looked deeply into the young man's eyes, and said 'She chose you.' "

You finished the story, and Kili giggled at how interested his brother was.

"Now who's the child here,"

[ampintherain]

I’m Yours:

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Chapter IV

Y/N is Kenny Ortega’s ‘niece’ after going through a rough breakup, Kenny decides to fly her over to stay with him, will her broken heart mend?

(Female Reader, NO SMUT, Romance, Friendship, THIS IS MY FIRST EVER FANFIC/IMAGINE, I hope it’s good, Kenny is lifelong family friend so reader calls him Uncle Kenny. I’m British so the writing is going to be British so like ‘mum’ not ‘mom’ yanno?)

TW- swearing. mentions of alcohol, drugs & divorce

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Y/N

“Doll, you ready to go?” Kenny asked as he shrugged on his coat, we had been at Tori’s for a good three hours and I could see Kenny was getting tired and we did have a really long day tomorrow, I nodded at my uncle happily before bidding farewell to my new found friends. I found it quite strange as to how quickly they had befriended me and made me feel more than welcome- Charlie especially, I mean throughout the day he asked me if I was alright and he encouraged me to share my ideas with Uncle Kenny, it really was strange.

“See you tomorrow Y/n” Owen chirped, pulling me in for a quick hug, I was soon passed round through the group of friends each of them giving me a tight hug which I gladly reciprocated, I waved everyone a final goodbye before Kenny and I left Tori’s apartment and made our way back to the car.

As Uncle Kenny drove through the streets of Vancouver, I paid most attention to the lights displayed throughout, I watched as birds flew through the sky and listened to the soft sound of the radio, “you okay Y/n?” Uncle Kenny questioned,

“Hm?” I said, as the questioned tore me out of my unknown daydream, I turned to face my uncle Kenny and before he could repeat himself, my brain managed to process what he originally asked “oh oh yeah, I’m fine Uncle Kenny, just sight seeing” I laughed quietly,

“Okay, just making sure, I’m worried about you...” Kenny admitted, I had a feeling that he was but he just didn’t want to draw attention to me and my situation, I have always been very good at hiding my emotions it came from years and years of being told that my emotions and the way I felt weren’t ‘necessary’ and that I shouldn’t feel the way I did- in the end, I decided to no longer tell anyone my problems but deal with them myself, battling through the pain as a lone warrior, I didn’t even tell Kenny what was going on, I built up layers of walls around me to protect myself and make it seem like I was this strong, capable woman. “You’re only 19, Y/n, I know you’re strong but... I just want you to know that I am here should you ever need me” I nodded in response, worried that if I did speak, my voice would give way and I would be revealed as this weak character, I’ve already cried once today and I’m not planning on crying anymore, not in front of Kenny at least.

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Kenny locked the door behind me as we both entered the apartment, “do you want a drink or anything Uncle Kenny?” I questioned as I made my way into the kitchen, opening the fridge and taking out the carton of orange juice,

“No you’re alright Star, I’m just going to head to bed, I’ll wake you up at 7 alright?” He assured me, I nodded as I sipped at my juice, I looked at the digital clock placed on the side- 12:00am, luckily I had sorted through all of my clothes before going to set and again before going to Tori’s because, quite honestly, I hadn’t the energy to do much at this point, I watched as my uncle wandered into his room, closing the door behind him. I let out a deep breath, the thoughts of a few nights ago coming back into my memory, replaying itself there, why wasn’t I good enough? I did absolutely everything I could for him... I loved him with everything I had... why wasn’t I good enough?

I kept asking myself, it was truly lost on me, I didn’t see myself as this perfect girl, this perfect girlfriend but I knew what I did for him. I was there for him when his dad spiralled, turning to alcoholism and drug abuse, I was there whenever he called, whenever he showed up randomly at my house at 4 in the morning crying and looking for a cuddle, I made sure to visit him mum every Tuesday evening for dinner because Zac wanted to move out once his parents split, deciding to live with his grandparents instead. We were even thinking about moving in together... well him moving in with me as I had already had my own place at 18. That boy was my entire world for 3 years and the fact that he could throw it all away so easily, really hurt me, and I don’t think it was anything that I could understand ever.

The thought alone caused my heart to feel crushed, it felt like Zac had a hold of my heart and whenever I thought about it, he just squeezed my heart as hard as he possibly could, it felt like a gut wrenching type of pain, I wiped away the tears that I didn’t even realise were spilling quickly out of my eyes. I cleared my throat and drank the rest of my juice before making my way to bed, I changed into my grey cable knit sweater and my plaid shorts and clambered into the large double bed, snuggling into the comfort that the bed brought me before I let sleep take over me.

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“Rise and shine” Kenny said quietly into my bedroom, I groaned as I stretched in bed, “morning sleepyhead” he chuckled,

“Morning” I mumbled, scratching the back of my head, Kenny told me that we’d be leaving in 20 minutes, “okay, I’ll see you in 20” I smiled, sliding out of bed and heading into my closet, I grabbed my white tennis skirt, white shirt and dark blue sweater, I paired the outfit with white tennis socks and my white and blue Nike Jordan’s that Uncle Kenny bought me for Christmas. I placed my clothes on my bed and went for a quick shower, this time I dried my hair before chucking it up into a high ponytail, I brushed my teeth and did some light makeup again before changing and grabbing my phone off the side,

“Let’s go” I stated as I made my way over to Kenny,

“You look amazing” he smiled genuinely at me, I thanked him and we made our way back to the set of his new show.

“So... how did you sleep?” Kenny asked me,

“Oh really well thank you, that bed was huge, you could fit like five of me in there” I joked, just as my phone chimed, I looked down at the lit screen to see messages from the one person I didn’t want to hear from.

Zac- Hey, where are you? I came to your place to see you and you weren’t there...

I rolled my eyes and groaned internally before locking my phone and sinking into my seat, “what’s on your mind?” Uncle Kenny asked immediately, I swear it’s like this man lives in my brain. I turned my phone on vibrate just as another text came through,

“It’s nothing Uncle Kenny” I sighed, the man driving next to me simply hummed in response, he definitely didn’t believe me but I knew he wasn’t going to push for answers- he never did, he would always let me come to him if I needed and that was one of the things I loved most about him. I could feel my phone constantly vibrating in my hand whilst Kenny was driving, so I turned it on do not disturb just to try and escape it.

“Alright kiddo, we’ve arrived” Kenny said as he swiftly parked up, I went to unbuckle myself but Kenny stopped me, “you don’t have to tell me right now, but I am here, you know I won’t judge you like your parents” he explained, I sighed and leant over to rest my head on his arm,

“I know Uncle Kenny... it’s Zac, he texted me... I’m ignoring him though” I replied, he sighed and looked down at me, placing a kiss to the top of my head,

“You’re going to have to” Kenny started before I cut him off mid sentence,

“Message him at some point, I know I know” I sat back upright and unbuckled the seat before getting out the car, “come on” I sighed, putting back on my brave face before heading into the lot with Uncle Kenny in tow.

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Charlie

“Y/n!” I heard Sav yell from across the lot, I turned to see Y/n walking towards us, her arms linked with Kenny’s as he was talking and joking with her, I watched as she let out a quick laugh before shaking her head, probably at some corny joke that Kenny told. “We’re matching!” Sav exclaimed as Y/n got closer,

“So we are!” Y/n giggled, “but don’t you have to be in your Carrie costume?” She questioned, pointing at the costume trailer just a way behind us,

“We are rehearsing Wow today in costume” Kenny announced, this prompted Sav to scrunch her face and turn on her heels, grabbing Tori by her upper arm as they both ran to the costume trailer, “those girls” Kenny laughed, shaking his head, “I’m going to get some breakfast, do you want anything Y/n?” The girl shook her head, “you have to eat Star, I’ll get you a croissant okay?”

“If I have to eat, can you get me some blueberry pancakes?” Y/n questioned innocently, smiling up at her ‘uncle.’ Kenny simply nodded and walked over to catering to grab him and Y/n some breakfast. “Hey” Y/n said as she took a step closer to me, I looked down at her and smiled,

“Hey” I mirrored, “sleep well last night?” I asked, the girl nodded and started to walk down the lot, I naturally started to follow her, not wanting the conversation to end,

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever slept in a bed that big before” she giggled, causing my heart to skip a beat slightly, “how about you? Did you sleep well?” She questioned, looking up at me with her beautiful y/e/c eyes.

“Oh yeah, Owen and I left Tori’s a little while after you and Ken left, we grabbed some food and then just crashed as soon as we got home” I said simply, just as I mentioned Owen I saw him come out of his trailer dressed as Alex,

“You, Charles. Have to be in costume” he stated, pointing at me, I rolled my eyes before he shoo’d me away, I nodded slightly at Y/n as a way to say goodbye and she saluted me slightly which caused me to laugh before jogging up to costume.

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Y/N

“Why the long face?” Owen asked me as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, “wassup Buttercup?” I bit the inside of my cheek and looked up at the blonde boy,

“It’s my ex” I stated plainly, “he messaged me this morning and I just...” I trailed off, not really knowing what to say, was I ignoring Zac because I hated him, or was I ignoring him because I was worried that if I did text him back, I would fall for him all over again? You can’t get over someone that quickly, no matter how much they hurt you... right?

“Don’t know what to say to him?” Owen answered for me, “what did he say?” He asked, I daren’t look at my phone again because I knew that he had probably texted more so I tried to remember what I saw at quick glance.

“It was something about why I wasn’t home and where I was” I remembered, sitting down on the small couch in the resting tent, my back against the arm rest and my legs tucked up to my chest, Owen sat down, facing me and mirroring my position, “I just don’t see why I have to tell him that anymore... he’s my ex y’know?” I vented, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.

“Hey, you shouldn’t let him get to you like that, it’s not cool... look, I’m pretty sure we have a day off tomorrow, why don’t you come over to mine and Charlie’s place and we can watch movies and pig out?” Owen offered, I lifted my head back up and nodded, it didn’t sound like the worst idea, in fact, it sounded like the best thing for me, I mean karaoke last night helped me a lot so maybe just a chilled day would help too?

“Yeah that sounds amazing actually” I smiled.

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“Okay you guys, Sav, Sacha, Tori, Mads and Jay you guys can all go home, thank you so much for your excellence today, you’re all amazing!” Uncle Kenny beamed with pride at his cast that he was dismissing for the day, we had just filmed 3 more scenes for the show and the cast had rehearsals for as many dances they could fit in today, the only thing left on the agenda was the hot dog scene, “now, I will see everyone at the next location? Y/n, you ready?” Kenny asked, I nodded as I felt a shiver run up my spine causing my body to visibly shake,

“Hey” I heard Charlie whisper, “you okay?” He questioned, staying within earshot of me,

“Yeah I’m good, just cold, I forgot a jacket and it was warm today... I kinda forgot how long today was” I laughed, slightly embarrassed about my sieve of a brain, although the presence of Charlie stood behind me seemed to keep me fairly warm, that is, until I felt him leave. I turned to see Owen looking behind him as Charlie darted off, “I’ll be one second” Charlie yelled loud enough for everyone to hear and wait for him.

“Where’s he going?” Jeremy asked, pointing behind him towards where Charlie had just disappeared to,

“I have... no idea” Owen sighed, shrugging his shoulders, “Y/n/n, do you know?” I shook my head,

“He just ran off, maybe he forgot something” I stated, just as Charlie came running back, handing me a brown corduroy jacket with a wool collar,

“Here, it has pockets too so you won’t have to keep holding your phone” he said, only slightly out of breath.

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Charlie

Y/n gently took the jacket from me, “oh... thanks” she said as a red tint reached her cheeks, she shrugged the jacket on and I couldn’t help but smile at how it looked on her, on me, it fit perfectly but on Y/n, it nearly swamped her, the sleeves hung so low only her fingertips could be seen and the length of the jacket went just above where her skirt ended. She looked adorable.

“Yeah.. yeah anytime” I replied, Y/n placed her phone in her pocket and started to walk towards Kenny,

“Hey, I’ve gotta talk to my Uncle Kenny about some things for the hot dog scene, I had some ideas but I’ll see you on location okay?” She said, not just to me, but to Owen and Jeremy as well, all three of us nodded and joined together so we could all walk out of the lot,

“You like her...” Jeremy stated, Owen nudged him slightly and rolled his eyes,

“I made that observation last night!” He said, “but yeah, you totally like her... it’s obvious”

“I just gave her my jacket, she said she was cold, I would’ve done the same for anybody, like Mads” I defended, “she did look really cute in it though” I admitted, Owen agreed with me which caused me to look at him sceptically,

“Before you get jealous and ask me, no I don’t like her, she’s just a friend” he answered before I even had a chance to ask the question, “oh by the way, she was talking to me about her ex today, something about how he messaged her and she doesn’t know what to say to him, she seemed really down so I invited her to come over tomorrow” Owen explained,

“Oh really? Okay cool” was all I could say, Jeremy soon decided to change the subject to running lines as he could see that I was becoming nervous at the fact that Y/n was coming over, I had no idea why the thought of it had my heart racing and my mind scattered but it did, there was something about Y/n that I couldn’t quite put my finger on but whatever it was drove me crazy about her.

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Y/N

We had just finished filming the final scene of the day- the hot dog scene and it was the longest scene ever, the amount of re-runs and developments on the scene was enough to drive anybody insane, I groaned slightly as I turned and sat on the seat that one of the crew members brought with them just as Kenny was wrapping the scene up. “Y/n, I’ve just got to do some paperwork and I’ll be right with you okay? I’m sure the boys will keep you company once they change” Kenny announced, to which I simply nodded, not having the energy to say anything or do anything else, I rubbed my eye as I pulled my phone out of Charlie’s jacket pocket, I looked down at the screen and saw the notification, I had 36 unread messages from Zac:

>Zac- hello? Y/n! Where are you?

>Zac- I’m worried about you...

>Zac- Y/n! Would you please just answer me...

>Zac- I went to the coffee shop, you weren’t there either, where have you run off to?

>Zac- look Y/n, I’m really sorry about what I did to you

>Zac- WTF! WHERE ARE YOU?!?

>Zac- you can’t possibly be giving me the silent treatment? Seriously.

>Zac- I didn’t realise you were so childish.

>Zac- I’m glad I cheated on you, you’re worthless

>Zac- wait no, I’m sorry I didn’t mean that I’m just worried about you.

The list went on and on, a mixture of emotions, I kept scrolling through the text screen until I saw the most recent text, delivered 1 minute ago,

>Zac- call me. Please.

I rolled my eyes, I couldn’t call him, I shouldn’t call him right? But alas, like muscle memory, I clicked on the call icon and there was his voice, “Y/n! Hey... how’re you?” All I did was sigh in response, I watched as the boys came out of the venue and into sight, they all waved at me before noticing I was on the phone, Owen and Jeremy dispersed whereas Charlie stayed, walking slowly towards me with a half-smile on his face, clearly worried about whether or not I wanted him to come closer.

“What do you want?” I said bluntly, “I’m not in the mood to hear your pathetic apologies Zac, you’re messages were ridiculous, you went from being apologetic to calling me worthless and saying that you were happy that you cheated on me!”

“Listen Y/n... I can’t explain” Zac began but I was in no mood to hear it,

“No you listen Zac, you don’t get to be sad, you don’t get to cry. You are the one who cheated remember? Or have you suddenly developed amnesia? You went behind my back and had this whole other relationship for 13 months... and on top of that, it was with Quinn! My best friend and you think I’m going to sit here and listen to your silly little apologies, no, you have another thing coming. We were together for 3 years and for a year of that you were with someone else, I was nothing but loyal to you, I was nothing but kind to you, I loved you so much and I thought that you would never hurt me, but I was wrong, you’re just a piece of shit Zac, you and Quinn deserve each other, you’re both snakes, you’re both pathetic and you both betrayed me. I dont want to hear from you again? Do I make myself clear?” I ranted down the phone, I never raised my voice, I kept calm, I wouldn’t let him know that he made me so angry that I wanted to scream and throw my phone into the road, no. I wouldn’t let him have that power over me.

“But Y/n- we’ve been through so much... Quinn doesn’t know me like you do... she’s not there for me like you do” Zac grovelled, I scoffed in response,

“Well isn’t that just a crying shame? You should’ve thought about that before you decided to go behind my back and fuck her, you should’ve thought about it before you decided to be unfaithful. Hey, I’ll make this easy for you, I’ll just block you on everything that way you have no way of contacting me. Goodbye Zac” I said as I abruptly hung up, giving Zac no chance to talk, I blocked his number and started to go through my social media, blocking him on everything that I had.

“Uh... you okay?” I heard a worried voice speak, I looked up to see those eyes that could only belong to Charlie, he tilted his head and looked at me with concern riddled all over his face, I placed my phone on my lap and rubbed my temples to try and reduce to incoming headache.

“Yeah... that was my ex” I stated the absolute obvious, unsure of what else to say, Charlie nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets before taking the seat next to me, he didn’t ask me to go on and explain but I felt like I could talk to him and so I did “you probably heard but he cheated on me, with my best friend”

“Yeah... yeah I did hear, look, Y/n, I know it probably won’t mean much but he really doesn’t deserve you and he isn’t worth your tears” he said calmly, placing his thumb on my cheek and gently brushed away the tears that I had no idea were slowly falling from my eyes, “by the sounds of it, he sounds like a dick and you were way too good for him” I laughed in response, “I’m being serious, Y/n, you’re gorgeous and kind and funny and insanely talented! I know it’s hard but you shouldn’t let a guy like that get to you...”

“Yeah I know... but he and I were together for so long, it just makes me feel like everything was a lie y’know? And like I can’t truly be loved by anyone” I admitted, hearing this Charlie stood up in front of me and held his hands out, “what...?” I questioned, he beckoned me to stand up before pulling me in for a hug,

“You? You can’t truly be loved? Y/n you’re one of the most lovable people I’ve ever met, everyone loves you here... I know that’s not the type of love you meant but trust me on this okay? You can very easily be loved” I pulled out of the hug slightly and Charlie lightly placed his hands on my face, looking deep into my eyes, he smiled slightly to himself causing me to become shy and look down, Charlie used his index finger to lift my head back up by my chin ever so gently, “who wouldn’t want to fall in love with you?”

💜thank you for reading💜

♡︎𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 : @thesweetestsinner , @ifilwtmfc , @ashleyleblancx , @chloepart03 , @obxflowr , @lukeys-giggle ♡︎

[mnemosyne-musing]

Right person, wrong time (River/11)

The Doctor opens the TARDIS door and peers around him expectantly before frowning. How strange. He appears to be inside a very ordinary block of flats. He steps outside and looks around more closely. He sniffs the air. Earth. No. Not Earth. Something that was trying to simulate Earth but not quite.

He can’t hear anything in particular. There’s a buzz of conversation that he can hear coming from further down the hall but no shouts of distress or screams for help. He wanders up to the nearest door, peering closely at the small intercom before pressing the button.

He’s not quite sure what or who he expects to answer the door. But what he certainly isn’t expecting to see is a slightly grumpy looking River Song.

“River?”

“You’re late,” she announces, one hand on her hip as she stands in front of him in the doorway.

“Late?” he repeats indignantly, staring at her in amazement, “What do you mean, late?”

She rolls her eyes and turns to head back inside, clearly expecting him to follow. “You said you’d be here half an hour ago.”

“Did I?” he mumbles to himself as he steps inside, closing the door behind him. He follows her curiously as she wanders back into a small living room with a cosy kitchenette at the far end. It’s certainly not Stormcage. It feels like an Earth colony from around the 50thcentury, the tech on display is evidence enough of that. However, there are also books and texts scattered around the living room. There’s also some piles of clean laundry and a stray pair of River’s heels in the corner. There’s some artwork on the walls and a few pictures on one of the shelves.

In fact, the whole place has an almost studenty feel to it which really doesn’t make much sense at all. His gaze returns to River and he finally takes in what she’s wearing. Not the particularly revealing pair of figure-hugging shorts, which his mind certainly clocks and plans to return to contemplating very soon. No, what draws his attention now is the baggy, sweatshirt that comes almost down to the hem of said rather-short shorts. The one that says ‘Luna University’ in big red letters across the front.

“You’re a student!” he blurts out as River frowns at him, “Here! On Luna!”

“Of course I am,” she looks as confused as he feels, “Where else would I be?”

“And you live here!” he gestures wildly around him.

“Yes, you helped me move in here from those awful undergrad digs, remember,” she frowns at him as he turns back to look at her, “Why are you acting so strangely all of a sudden?” she asks, looking more closely at him, “Did you eat one of those weird peach things again?”

“Peach, what? No!” he gapes at her as he desperately tries to process what’s happening.

A look of realisation dawns on her face before turning, rather terrifyingly, to one of glee. “Oh! You’re not late. You’re young!”

He splutters at that. “No! I’m not young. You’re young!” And she is young. Now that he knows, he can see that she looks a few years younger than when he’d last seen her. He can’t quite tell exactly how old she is, he’s not brilliant at telling human ages after all, but she certainly doesn’t look like a young student to him.

Her eyes rake up and down him before returning to his face. “Do you even know who I am yet?”

“Of course I do,” he lies as she lifts one eyebrow in surprise, “You’re River Song. Chief purveyor of trouble in half the universe.”

River lets out what could only be described as a squeal of delight. “Oh my god, you don’t know yet!”

“Well, how do you know who I am?” he retorts with a huff.

“It doesn’t work like that,” she scoffs with a toss of her head, “I’ve always known who you are,” he opens his mouth to protest but she simply fixes him with an absolutely wicked look and shakes her head, “Sorry, Doctor, spoilers!”

He glares at her but she simply leans forward and grins at him, her eyes wide with excitement. “I’ve never seen you this young before. And I have been waiting so long to say that to you!”

He can’t think of anything to say to that so he settles for shooting a final glare at her and then turning away to leaf idly through some of the books on the table.

“Why are you here anyway?” River asks curiously, watching as he drops a large archaeology textbook back down with a look of disgust.

The Doctor shrugs. “Dunno. Wasn’t aiming for here,” he picks up a scroll of parchment and brings it up to his face, sniffing it tentatively, “Amy and Rory are on their honeymoon. Thought I’d pop over to the waterfalls on Epsilon IV. Ended up here instead.”

She moves over and plucks the scroll of parchment out of his hands before he can subtly lick it. “Oh,” she turns around to put the scroll out of his reach, “So you didn’t mean to come here?”

He still doesn’t know River that well but he can tell that she’s trying to sound casual and unconcerned. It doesn’t fool him though and the tension in the set of her shoulders is a giveaway even though he can’t see her face. He hesitates for a moment. There’s a part of him that’s longing to run back to the safety of the TARDIS. Away from this terrifyingly young River Song and the way she looks at him.

However, there’s a note of uncertainty in her voice that he’s never heard from her before and it’s that that makes him pluck up his courage and ask her. “You said I was late? Late for what?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she says dismissively, too quickly almost, “Just a drinks thing in the archaeology department.”

“What kind of drinks thing?” he presses, watching her as she fidgets with a glass on the counter and avoids his gaze.

She shakes her head. “It’s just this drinks reception for new doctoral students and their, umm, their partners,” she says, rushing over the last bit very quickly, her eyes darting up to his to gauge his reaction and then away again, “But, it’s fine,” she continues breezily, “We can do something else. Or you can go if you want. Or-“

River trails off, her feigned nonchalance undermined as she still fidgets with the glass in front of her. He takes a deep breath and straightens his jacket lapels.

“You’re trying to steer me away from a party, River Song!” he exclaims, “I never thought I’d see the day!”

“Are you sure?” she looks up at him and if he wasn’t convinced before then the grateful look she shoots at him now is certainly enough to reassure him.

He claps his hands enthusiastically. “Of course! Lead the way!” he falters suddenly, his eyes falling to the rather scandalously short hem of her shorts, “Are you- are you going to go like that?” he asks, his voice coming out an octave or so higher than he had anticipated.

“Why? What’s wrong with this?” she asks, her face a picture of innocence but for the smirk playing around her lips.

He gulps and gestures vaguely at her legs. “Maybe something a bit less- I mean, more. Definitely more fabric.”

“Ooh, so strict for one so young!” she outright smirks at him before turning around and wandering across the room into where he assumes is her bedroom. If the extra sway in her hips accentuates her arse in those shorts then he definitely definitely doesn’t pay particular attention to it as she leaves the room.

Several hours later they are in one of the quieter bars on Luna, away from the student crowds. River had indeed changed outfit and is now wearing a rather fetching dark red cocktail dress. They are sat side by side at the bar, perched on high stools. A future version of him has clearly been here before as the barman handed him a menu for the milkshakes instead of the cocktail menu as soon as they sat down. So, here he is, sat enjoying a triple chocolate milkshake while a very young River sips her gin martini and brushes her knee against his from time to time.

The archaeology drinks party had been- Well, he still hesitates to use the word fun where archaeology is involved although he’s rapidly coming to the realisation that anything involving River Song could probably be fun. He glances covertly at her over the top of his milkshake. She’s humming along absent-mindedly to song that’s playing in the background. He recognises it as an old 20th century jazz song.

This younger River Song is definitely different to the one he knows. He’s only met her a couple of times in this body; the adventure in the Byzantium and then all that business with the Pandorica and the universe collapsing and restarting. She’s still the same flirty, confident, charming woman he knows but there’s an openness, he hesitates to call it a vulnerability, about her this young that he hasn’t seen before.

He’s suddenly gripped by a feeling of regret and self-loathing that it wasn’t the version of him she knows that showed up today. That she had to make do with an early version that barely knows her instead.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, as River turns towards him questioningly, “I’m sorry I’m not your- that I’m not the right person, the right me, the one that-, that knows you.”

She stares at him for a moment, gazing at his face searchingly before a soft smile curls her lips. “You’re always the right person, Doctor,” she says and he feels a warmth blooming through his chest at her words, “Even if your timing’s a bit off occasionally,” she adds with a grin as she leans in to steal a sip of his milkshake.

He feigns a gasp of outrage and swipes the glass back from her but, as they sit and gently bicker about the best flavour milkshake, the thought crosses his mind that maybe his timing isn’t actually that bad after all.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH93

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 93: Return to the Village of Dusk (IV)

"Just come, help me draw it." The Prophet was not ashamed at all, but asked for help straightforwardly.

Qi Leren was caught in all kinds of entanglements. How could he help him? Go over and pick up an eyeliner to help him draw the inner eyeliner? If he showed that he was skilled at this, wouldn't Ning Zhou have strange views about him?! No, he wouldn't help!

Qi Leren, who had made up his mind, pretended to look at the scenery, while the Illusionist at his side stepped forward. He picked up the eyeliner casually and said with disgust, "How many times have I taught you? Aren’t you supposed to be a teacher? I think Si Ling should be shown soon."

"..." Si Ling’s expression at the moment seemed to be very eager to explain that he didn't have this hobby, but he looked at his hands and stayed solmen and straight in the face of his teacher's request. He didn't speak at all.

"I am afraid of poking my eyes," the Prophet said.

"You can grow well even if you poke your eyes out. What are you worried about?" the Illusionist said.

"Hey... Don't say that, my eyes hurt." The Prophet covered his eyes and grinned.

The Illusionist traced his eyeliner, and as the Prophet was free, he glanced at Qi Leren and Ning Zhou out of the corner of his eye, smiled, and said, "Wasn't this task a big gain?"

"Well..." Qi Leren hesitated.

"Okay." The Illusionist capped the eyeliner and looked at it on the Prophet's face. "Okay, I think it's good."

"Thanks." The Prophet picked up the mirror and looked at it carefully. He asked the Illusionist, "Miss, what do you think of me?"

"I think you’re strange, teacher," the Illusionist said coldly.

Qi Leren was speechless. Why were they insulting each other when they were both like this?

The Prophet didn't care at all about the Illusionist’s mockery. He put down the mirror and said to the others, "There are some things I need to speak with you about, especially you, Qi Leren."

With this said, the Prophet made a ring, and the surrounding environment changed instantly from a pink room to a beach on the coast of the Village of Dusk. The Prophet, whose clothes were back to normal, sat on a bench by the sea and waved to Qi Leren who stood on the beach.

"Where are the others?" Qi Leren looked around and found that Ning Zhou had disappeared, and so had the other people. There was only him and the Prophet on this quiet beach.

"We’ll talk separately, come and sit here." The Prophet patted the empty half of the bench.

Qi Leren walked over and sat down beside the Prophet. They sat side by side and watched the sunset that never fell in the distance.

"You’ve been in the Nightmare World for a while, and now you know something about the Devils and the forces of the Holy See, right? What do you think of the factions?" asked the Prophet.

This problem was very complicated. Qi Leren had no time to think too much. He just said by feeling: "I don't think it is easy to distinguish a person by their faction, just like Ning Zhou. Although he has awakened the blood of the Devil now, I believe he will not do anything that hurts innocent people."

The Prophet smiled: "What if he did?"

Qi Leren remained silent.

"The trust you give him, and the pressure he gives himself, are two sharp tools that torture him. You are both desperately patient, but there are limits to patience. Leren, you have to face this day sooner or later. What is your choice?" asked the Prophet gently.

"Is there no way?" Qi Leren's heart hurt, and he asked angrily and desperately, "Has Ning Zhou done anything wrong? Yet why is it him? He is so good, so kind, so pious, he almost died in the lake of fire, just to not hurt the world! Is there no way to keep him alive?"

"He is inseparable from the fate of this world, and so are you. Leren, when you ask ‘why is it him', I also want to ask you, why can't it be him? When fate befalls a person, you call it torture, but fate didn't mean to torture anyone. It just… chose the only hope among the hundreds of millions of roads leading to despair. Have you ever thought that this may already be the gentlest 'torture'?" the Prophet asked softly, looking at the sunset.

Qi Leren waited for a while and seemed to understand.

"Do you know the original sin in the Holy See’s doctrine?" asked the Prophet.

Qi Leren nodded.

"In this way, the teachings of the Holy See and Christianity in the real world are very similar. In Christianity, Adam and Eve were lured by the snake to eat the forbidden fruit. This crime is passed down forever with love and fertility, and people will make atonement for this crime all their lives. Because of this original sin, people and God can never communicate." The Prophet moved his finger, and a bright red apple appeared in his hand. He held up the apple and overlapped it with the sunset in his field of vision.

"There is also a story in the Canon, in which gods who came from elsewhere sowed seeds, and only one of them was able to grow the sun, the moon, the stars, the mountains and rivers, birds, animals, and humans. This God created man with his own appearance and talents. However, this kind of God had bred human greed very quickly. Man deceived God, tried to defeat God, and was finally punished by God. The crimes of deception, greed, and disobedience have been engraved on human beings since then, and have been passed down from generation to generation, teaching human beings to restrain their desires and atone for their sins by doing good deeds in order to earn God's care again." The apple in the Prophet's hand disappeared and was replaced by a small ball of light. He looked at the light as gently as if he were looking at his own child.

Qi Leren nodded: "I’ve read the Canon and heard this story."

"In fact, among the demons, there is another version of this creation story," the Prophet said.

Qi Leren didn't know this. He asked curiously, "What version?"

"Those overreaching humans deceived God and killed him. The sin of killing God has been branded on human beings since then, but the rights and glory brought by killing God have also been branded on human beings. Human beings who bathed in the blood of God have degenerated into demons and are the inheritors of the world—you see, God has never appeared again, because He has already died. Therefore, compared with human's conformity, demons are more greedy and arrogant. They follow their own desires, and atonement is nonsense to them. What they have to do is to become stronger through blood and fire, and then replace God. To this end, the strongest of them challenges God again and again."

"...Which one do you think is true?" Qi Leren asked.

The Prophet turned and smiled at him: "It's just a story. Although the relationship between the Court and the Holy See is better, I disagree with many doctrines of the Holy See, like this sentence: 'I was brought forth in iniquity; And in sin did my mother conceive me.' It can be said that Ning Zhou must feel that his life is the portrayal of this sentence. At that time, Maria sealed a third of the demon crystal that destroyed the Devil King in her own body, but she didn't expect herself to become pregnant. The demon crystal gradually merged with Ning Zhou. Maria tried various methods, but still couldn't stop it. Before Ning Zhou was born, she felt the future of this child would be even more dark. She almost... almost killed him."

Qi Leren's hair stood on end.

Looking at the sunset, the Prophet seemed to be remembering something, and his tone gradually softened: "But at that time, the Destroyer was dead, Maria was on the verge of collapse, and she pinned all her guilt and expectation on this child. She had already killed her lover, and was unable to kill her own child. In order to avoid that future, Ning Zhou should not embark on the same path as his father. After her death, Ning Zhou was sent to the Holy See... At least on the day she left, she still believed that Ning Zhou would have a good future... Because I lied to her."

In Qi Leren's puzzled eyes, the Prophet smiled slightly: "At that time, Maria had just given birth to him, and the demon army pursuing us had just receded. We landed on the coast, which is this present place, the future Village of Dusk, and the sky was full of the golden glow of sunset. I held Ning Zhou to predict his future. I told Maria that this child would have a bright future, and that he would live a pious and happy life."

"But this was a lie," Qi Leren exposed him.

"Yes, this was a lie. In fact, what I saw was endless pain and destruction," said the Prophet.

Qi Leren's heart sank. Despair made him bend down, his arms supported on his knees, and he didn't want to move.

"Don't be depressed yet. I'm not telling you this to make you sit here and cry," the Prophet said.

Qi Leren looked up and looked at him hopefully: "What else can I do?"

The Prophet put the pulsing ball of light in his hand gently and asked:

"Leren, are you willing to inherit the Village of Dusk?"

-----

The author has something to say:

PS: "I was brought forth in iniquity; And in sin did my mother conceive me." Psalms.

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[summercurial]

diary entry: G's grad party

dramatis personae:

G, L, S, E, H - the usual suspects, you know them, you love them (well, maybe you dont love them. i love them! i think H might be a little uncomfy with me saying i love him. but he is wonderful)

El, W - W is an old friend of the group, very timid, he wanted to transition and then told his girlfriend, El, disappeared for a week and later no longer wanted to transition. El is kind of awful

G's extended family, friends of parents and parents of friends, etc

so, i get there like 130 in my new pretty dress. i'm the first of the group to arrive, all of G's relatives are there and very loud, we retreat to G's room and I get some rose, rest of the group arrives, S brought a tupperware of just rice that she is just sort of sitting and eating from, i mock her for this and then hug her and tell her that i love her strangeness, i try a rum and coke (don't like it), bunch of other people arrive, i have some sparkling wine, we split up for a bit, I spot a drawing of a woman with her tits tastefully out that i point out to S, S spends a while talking to G's lesbian aunts who are really friendly and nice and interesting, i talk with them for a while too, there are a ton of people but G's relatives are pretty great, theyre funny and friendly and chill (apparently at some point they smoked weed *with* the group? no idea where i was at this point), i have a very strong margarita-adjacent drink made by E, it's delicious but probably like. 3 drinks worth, so it's like 3 pm and im kind of schwasted, we have a quick group meeting up stairs which consists of G giving us all adderall, which powered me through the night

at some point we're hanging out in a semi-private area off the main zone (G's parents are kind of loaded (i mean. its nova. almost everyone is at least kind of loaded), its a big house, but it was expanded twice from a small old house (it has an original cellar in the basement! its so weird and cool) so its got a weird structure), I ask El if i can kiss her, because i want to kiss a girl and also i have some vague idea (at some point (before this?) i had a bunch of punch (delicious! H is big into punch. he makes really good punch. he is the least evil member of the group (non sequitur)), at this point ive been there like 4 hours and had like 7 drinks worth. so. i am pretty drunk) that like, getting familiar with a trans girl sexually might..idk, make her soften on letting W transition, anyway she asks W's permission and we do, it was pretty nice but shes wearing lipstick or chapstick or something which feels kind of weird, she's a pretty normal kisser, anyway hell yeah kissed a girl, then i ask to kiss W (he asks El, she says yes), he's so adorably timid and cautious while he kisses while im going all the way at it, also he's so little hes like 5 6, i think i kissed them both a coule times throughout the night, i got El to feel me up a little (not much unforch), also i think while just the two of us were in there (members of the group were going in and out, yknow. party mode) I asked to kiss L and we did, it was nice hes got great lips (i think this might have been the first time we kissed? idk. memory)

at some point we take a walk to a nearby river, we have to stop before we get down to the shore cuz it was getting pretty dark but it was fun, i got to hold hands with G for a while and also I ran around some, and idk, i like hiking it was hiking, i like to talk to people while i hike

ANYWAY a little after that pretty much everybody went home, i went up with G and L to their bedroom, and we had...threesome 2.0! i think it started with them hurting me which was fun, G said he liked the sounds i made when L hurt me, G was planning on fucking me but i think i was too tight or something or he was experiencing whiskey dick? or something? honestly i was pretty confused. but also very happy and pliant feeling. im pretty sure G fingered me for a while at some point which was really nice, and then...!! i ate L out! it was fun. it was in the dark and also im not well versed in vaginas so i was kind of improvising, not really sure what was going on but it tasted good (it was strangely sweet? G said it tastes like meat but i didnt get that. just tasted sweet and i guess fleshy to me) and L said he was enjoying it, i like using my tongue on things, then for a while G fucked L while i licked at both the penis and the vagina, yknow, sort of licking around the point where they met at the top (L was on all fours, i was laying on my back underneath him, G was on his knees behind him) and then sometimes G would let me suck him off and not fuck L (oh and i got to do the thing where i just sort of hold the head in my mouth and play with it with my tongue, i love that)

there was like... a thing going on b/c L is like. sort of a switch and sort of bratty. and i am of course a very good girl. but L has lots of pride so it takes him a lot to say what he wants. eventually he got super desperate for G to make him cum, i teased him a little bit (actually kind of a lot), mostly for being bad and complicated, i got soooo many good girls from G he was being very indulgent to me. L gets just as simple and desperate as me when he really wants to come tho. which i think G likes, when L is broken. anyway L came and then a while later G came in L (several times? my time sense was wonky and it was dark). i sort of cuddled with L while he got fucked, he was doing his catboy thing where he likes to attack, he bit me really hard on the space between my neck and shoulder, and on the arm, and scratched me a bunch, but hes weaker than me so i held his arm in place after that. oh at some point they wanted me to finger L but he has a bizarrely insensitive vagina. i was going at it! my finger was all the way in there! felt like i was being quite harsh

they talked about me a bunch which i loved, i got to be the very simple thing that i am and they treated me yknow. affectionately but also. as that thing. it was great. and then we cuddled all night. i spent a lot of the time confused but not really in a bad way. just like. oh. i will just do what im told :). and in the morning i had some coffee and some tortilla chips and met the neighbors dogs and went home. there was no vegetarian food so i just ate a bunch of tortilla chips (and some tortillas) and drank alcohol the previous afternoon. i think the majority of my calories yesterday were from alcoholic drinks. but somehow I wasnt hungover in the morning.

it was so fun! what a great night. alcohol. friends. threesome

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 3 drama: Please teach me, Yamazaki-san! English translation

Special thanks to @nollatooru​ for extracting text again since there’s no way this would have been translated anytime soon since the majority of drama translations that I’ve found as videos only are near the very bottom of my to-do list.

This is my translation of the 薄桜鬼 遊戯録 隊士達の大宴会 店铺特典「教えてください山崎さん！」, the Yuugiroku 3 (too much of a hassle to look up the actual name) drama: Please teach me, Yamazaki-san!

Ended up doing a bit more research that I would have liked to translate this since the names of the positions in the Shinsengumi’s organization for spies didn’t translate well from Japanese into Chinese (huzzah for google translate and for biographies that list names in Chinese and Japanese so I was able to find the information I was looking for in English)... Also, i didn’t look up the gameplay for anything since I had to uninstall KW and EB for space when I was taking things off my damaged passport, not that it would have made much of a difference since I can’t recall a point when the “Watch” was actually voiced... so I might not really be consistent with a few things in this translation since I only did research during the latter half of this...? 

oh well. i don’t know Japanese and don’t do the editing for my subtitle videos until I compare everything to the audio later so I can claim ignorance. i suppose that’s an odd benefit of not understanding Japanese hahaha.   

Anyway, as always, my translation not be 100% accurate since I translate from Chinese. final edits will probably take a bit longer (in comparison to the other things i’m still sitting on) to do since im still debating about what im do with all the Watch-related words since I really don’t like it when the things I translate aren’t consistent....

PERSONAL RECOMMENDATION: I HIGHLY ADVISE AGAINST READING THIS AND WAITING FOR MY SUBTITLE VIDEO.

Hakuoki Shinkai Yuugiroku, Please teach me, Yamazaki-san! Drama CD

Translation by KumoriYami

Yamazaki: (I think that since there haven't been any large manhunt operations lately [reword later? tl can also mean "to hunt and arrest"], things have been quiet.)

(However, what is that guy doing/is that guy's purpose?)

The one out there, I'm not going to run.

So come out and tell me why you're spying on me.

~wind blows~

(Not planning on coming out...?)

-grips sword-

Then, I'll take the imitative to attack.

(movement in bushes)

Souma: Ah, please wait a moment!

Yamazaki: Oh. You are... Souma-kun?

(movement in bushes again) Saito: Sure enough, I was immediately found/discovered/I was detected immediately. As expected of Yamazaki.

Yamazaki: Based on just the breathing, I thought there was only one person, yet Saito-san was also still here. Exactly what are you doing?

Souma: Sorry! I didn't mean to do anything strange.

It's just that I wanted to observe Yamazaki-san work.

Yamazaki: Observe me work?

Although it's fine if you want to watch, but aren't you the Chief's page?

Saito: I recommended that he try this,  But he was immediately found. Still it's better to ask the person himself directly.

Yamazaki: You two, what are you talking about?

Souma:...Um, Then, Yamazaki-san, please show me how to [/you] work! ----

Souma: Hakuoki Shinkai Yuugiroku, Store Bonus Drama CD, Please teach me, Yamazaki-san! ----

Yamazaki: In other words, you now understand the duties of a page, and still want to know what sort work the other warriors do, and want to try monitoring/surveillance/doing the Watch's work? 

Is that how it is? Souma-kun.

Souma: It's just as you said. As the chief's page, I work hard every day, but I still don't know a lot about the Shinsengumi.

That's why I went and asked Saito-san [about this].

Saito: I know that Souma is working very hard. Though that will naturally be [more/become] obvious as time goes by/Though as time goes by, that will naturally be understood/Although this has been said for a while, this will naturally be understood. [check audio]

Yamazaki: But you don't want to wait for/until then, and want to be of use as quickly as possible?

Souma: Yes. Can you help me with this, even if it's [for] just a little bit?

Yamazaki: Hm.

Souma: Yamazaki-san.

Yamazaki: No, I was just reminiscing the past/thinking about the past.

I used to be as anxious as you are.

Alright, if I can, permit me to teach you.

Souma: Thank you very much!

Saito: Then can I also accompany/join you?

Yamazaki: Saito-san also wants to? That won't be a problem.

Saito: I also have experience following people while on patrol

I'm very interested in how the Watch [im pretty sure it's the Watch here and in the earlier instance. tho i can't say for certain since CN doesn't exactly do capitalization and ive never played the game in Chinese] fulfills its duties.

Please allow me to learn again. [check audio]

Yamazaki: In that case then, I'll ask you to please look after me.

----

Yamazaki: Although it normally referred to as the Watch,

the Watch is actually divided into two sections.

Souma: In terms of how it organized, sorry but please review it for me again.

Saito: The part of the organization for spies which acts by itself to gather external intelligence is called Shoshi shirabeyaku ken kansatsu*, and within that, those who are responsible for investigating/monitoring the conduct of [the/our?] members/the investigators whose duty is to supervise the conduct of/our members are known as the Kansatsugata**

* Shinsengumi's organizational post for investigating movements of the opponents and keeping the Shinsengumi members under control. (source: https://japanese-wiki-corpus.github.io/person/Kuwajiro%20OISHI.html)

**  had to look this up on the Shinsengumi wiki.samurai-archives

Yamazaki, who holds both positions/is capable of accomplishing both duties, is at the core of the Kansatsugata.

Souma: Shoshi shirabeyaku and Kansatsugata...

After hearing this again, I really feel that Yamazaki-san is quite amazing.

Yamazaki: Uh, do-don't say that out loud. I'm not used to it.

Souma: But, monitoring/investigating/supervising the conduct of the other members...

Saito: It's to secretly investigate whether or not members are conducting themselves in a manner that is befitting as members of the the Shinsengumi, and whether or not they have done anything improper.

Souma: In other words/That is to say, that also includes my actions so far.

Yamazaki: At the moment, you have no problems [there are no problems with you?].

Souma: Is-Is that so...

Yamazaki: There are almost two hundred members. Among them, there will be people who do not abide by the regulations, and those who clearly show their dissatisfaction/obviously dissatisfied or are treasonous/or even rebellious.

Souma: I see. Indeed there are people who obviously show that.

Saito:  It these people incite trouble within the team, it would be very troublesome.

That's why the Kansatsugata are needed to investigate people like this.

Yamazaki: Having said that, the three of us have been quite noisy so it would be helpful if we quickly correct that here. Ah. The two of you, over there.

Saito: Say who is there [more like "name" i guess? probably more "identify who is over there" ]

Souma: That is... Nagakura-san? There are several other people [He's with some other people/several others].

Yamazaki: This is a rare opportunity to train one of the basic skills for spying/[needed] as a spy. I'll give you a demonstration. Afterwards, you'll eavesdrop on their conversation without being discovered.

Souma: Yes, I'll do my best.

--------

Saito: Almost 15 minutes have passed. But it's really bold for you to have come up with this practical training, Yamazaki.

Yamazaki: For his first time attempt at doing this, Nagakura-san is suitable [to practise with]. As long as one isn't murderous [being bloodthirsty? think of something later], he'll basically ignore you.

Saito: Nn. If it was Souji, he would immediately draw his sword for a harsh/ruthless interrogation.

Yamazaki: No, Saito-san would do the same thing, and immediately get rid of your pursuer [not sure if this is in the "dispose of" sense though the tl i have can be translated that way lol].

Saito: Well, it doesn't feel good to be tested when I obviously haven't been disloyal.

Yamazaki: It's as you say, but this is my job.

Souma: AAAHHHHHH!!!!

Saito: Uh. [That’s] Souma. Why is he being hunted down [chased/pursued]?

Yamazaki: By whom/Who is it? Ah, Okita-san, at this time?

(frantic steps) Souma: Sorry! I didn't mean to do anything else!

This was just training for surveillance work!

(sword swung) Souma: AAAHHH!!

Okita-san, please forgive me!

Saito: An unexpected situation.

Yamazaki: He needs help to get away/escape from that situation, he isn't his opponent at all/he's no match for him.

Saito: I'll figure out a way to deal with Souji. You escape with Souma/You take Souma and run away. --------

Souma: Truly thank you for just now. Okita-san was already behind me before I realized it I really thought that I was going to die/I was dead.

Saito: Dying is a bit of an exaggeration.

But I'm certain he would have stabbed your neck with his sword and left you half-dead.

Yamazaki: I didn't expect Okita-san to be nearby, but there was way of knowing that you'd encounter him/but nothing can be done about meeting him [check audio].

Well then, change your mood for the next training [reword later]. The target is that room. Remain quiet from this point onward.

Souma: What's next?

Yamazaki: Take this letter and swap it with the letter in that room. But, in the next room, there is someone you must not be detected by.

Saito: Training for intelligence work? If this goes well, then it's possible that the other party won't even notice you.

Souma: That would be good, so it's just this letter? Then, I'll be right back.

Yamazaki: Ah, be very careful.

---------

Yamazaki: He entered the room without any problems.

Saito: Ah. So, who is the person in the next room?

Yamazaki: Well, it shouldn't matter since that person is asleep during the day.

( door slides open, then frantic steps)

Souma: Saito-san, Yamazaki-san! I'm sorry! I couldn't do it!   As soon as I entered the room, I felt that someone was staring at me through the door of the next room! There was also this creepy laughter/ing!

Saito: Laughter? The eyes staring at you, were they red?  [i swear this is going to become fanart one day lol. for both the spying and souma talking about what happened]

Souma: Yes! they didn't look like human eyes at all!

(door slides open.... slow creaking footsteps)

Saito: Does that mean that one over there was...

Yamazaki: Ah, damn it! He's awake!

Saito: Yamazaki, you go first! I'll deal with this!

Yamazaki: Sorry! I'll leave the General Secretary [so... i don't really like the English localization translation of Sanan's position being  a "colonel" so i looked up what it said on wikipedia and used that] to you! Souma-kun, come here!

This training/Training ends here!

Souma: Eh, eeehhhhhhhh?!

Saito: I'm sorry that it was noisy while your rested [that this noise disturbed your rest?], this was as a result of... --------

Souma:  What the hell that just now...

Yamazaki + Saito: It was just your imagination.

Souma: Eh. But, "General Secretary" was clearly said...

Yamazaki + Saito: You imagined hearing it [tl is more "it was an illusion" and one that is heard... maybe "you're hearing things"?. kinda gave up on thinking about that right now. ]

Souma:  Is, is that so... uh. That being said...

Saito: What's wrong/What is it?

Souma: Although the Kansatsugata feels quite unremarkable, each individual/everyone posses outstanding abilities, and I've been made aware of that again. [However] I 'm incapable of doing this sort of work.

Yamazaki: Hm. It can be said that you're not talented at this.

Souma: Eh?

Yamazaki: In the first place, not everyone can do this.

All of us within the Kansatsugata are constantly working on improving our skills.

We're always fighting in the shadows for the Shinsengumi.

What you think of being outstanding abilities is the results of our hard work. [remarkable capabilities?]

Souma: Truly, Yamazaki-san is amazing. I understand why everyone trusts you!  

Yamazaki: Th-That's why you shouldn't look at me like that. But for you, I think that you're better suited to doing honest work [tl can basically mean "honourable," "not devious" or "out in the open" in the straightforward sense] and not this secret monitoring work/surveillance in the shadows [reword later].

Saito: Indeed, compared to secretly taking covert actions in the shadows, you are better suited at working in the open, Souma.

Souma: I-is that so...

Thank you very much for this/that. If it's possible, I hope to still learn some things from you.

Yamazaki: There will be opportunities for that. Then, we'll end today's training here. Souma-kun, is there/do you have anything else you want to ask?

Souma: [Something] I want to ask.... ah. then, Yamazaki-san, may I ask you one last question?

Yamazaki: Ah, if I can answer, I won't hold back [will/do so].

Souma: What sort of technique is the "Tatami flip"?

Yamazaki: Ta... Where did you hear that name from?

Souma: Just now during this investigator training/spy training, Nagakura-san mentioned it/Nagakura-san mentioned it while doing the operative training. It is said that it is Yamazaki-san's most powerful technique.

Yamazaki: That guy said something unnecessary! No, Souma-kun, that's.... It's not something amazing like a secret technique..

Saito: Why are you being modest? That move is indeed capable of being referred to as/called  a secret technique. If it's possible, I'll ask you to please teach me it. Perhaps I will be able to apply it to kenjutsu.

Yamazaki: Even Saito-san, what are you saying? [Even Saito-san is saying this? check audio]

Souma: Please, Yamazaki-san!

Saito: I'll be requesting the same of you, Yamazaki. [tl is more "i'm also requesting (you) to do so/asking"]

Yamazaki: Bo-Both of you, please raise your heads. I-I get it! I'll teach you.

Souma: Really?!  Thank you very much!

Yamazaki: But, you can't tell anyone else about this.

Saito: Nn. Understood.

Yamazaki: Then, please get behind me. Aoyi***, Tatami flip!

This is the literal Mandarin pronunciation of the tl without tones. CN tl can mean “profound argumentation” (in Chinese), tho it's also used to refer to some of the highest level of martial skills in JP (so says a baidu search on the term). 

The English google translate of that page puts this phrase as "Ogi," and after reading this page that mentions "ogi" (http://www.aikiweb.com/forums/archive/index.php/t-9948.html#:~:text=Yielding%20is%20called%20%22ju%22%20as,an%20open%20heart%20without%20ego.), so i will probably change this to either "Secret move" or "hidden technique" based on what it mentioned there

Souma: Uoh!

Yaamzaki: Ju-Just now, that was the Tatami flip.

Souma: Amazing, that was amazing, Yamazaki-san! How were you able to do that without any tools [check audio]? Please tell me how to do this!

Saito: This can be used indoors while fighting defensively/can be used as a defence when fighting indoors. It can also be used to hinder an enemy's movements.

Yamazaki: Yes. This requires focusing your strength into the centre of your palm, and within a single breath, smack/slap the edge of the tatami, and then lifting it up when the edge bounces.

Souma: So it's like that? Hoh.... tatami flip! Uh. Areh? It didn't bounce at all.

Yamazaki: Haha. It's not something you can master right away. It also took me a long time to do it. Concentrate/Focus a bit more strength into the palm of your hand.

Souma: Ha! Ah! Yah! It-It's not moving...

Saito: Practise makes perfect./Won't practise make perfect [check audio]? Alright, I will challenge this. Should the position of my hand be around here?

Yamazaki: Yes. [Though] It's better to have it moved a bit forward [moved up a bit]/ if the if the center of gravity is moved forward.

Saito: Understood. Then, I'll be going. Secret technique: Tatami flip!

Yamazaki: No way...

Souma: Uoh.

Saito: Nn. That happened naturally [reword later...? tl is is basically "letting nature take its course was achieved"] .

Souma: Sa-Saito-san, that was amazing! You actually succeeded in one go!

Saito: No, there's no guarantee that this will succeed every time. The accuracy and speed can be further improved upon.

Souma: Really, the Shinsengumi has assembled some amazing people. I can't fall behind and have to work even harder.

Saito: Ah , work hard. I am always willing to practise kenjutsu with you.

Yamazaki: Ah, but, to have it actually done it so easily, my confidence...

Saito: What is it, Yamazaki?

Yamazaki: No, I just feel that need to train a lot more. Let's improve together, Souma-kun.

Souma: Yes! Please look after me!

Souma Kazue, Kaji Yūki Saito Hajime, Toriumi Kōsuke Yamazaki Susumu, Suzuki Takayuki

-end-

sorry but this is the only souma thing i have scheduled for april. 

also i wanted some Yamazaki content translated, but i unfortunately don’t remember if i ever found Yamazaki’s route from Yuugiroku 2... so I settled on translating what I hope is a certain complete chapter (as viewed via the extras menu) of Souji’s route with him in it... sorta. scheduled for july!

--------

image from suruga-ya

[potatoesforash]

Ghostbur x reader- Ghostly love

Y/n’s POV

Walking along the path to the clearing in the forest where my cottage resides I notice a change in the weather and very quickly realise it was beginning to rain. Sighing to my self I start to slow my pace in walking enjoying the rain as it hit my skin. My cloak getting soaked but at this moment I could care less and that's when I hear it, a voice coming from behind me. It was soft almost distant but it was loud enough for me to hear. Looking in front of me I see my cottage that I could just run to but out of the kindness of my hart I turn to look at the person behind me. I was shocked to find a pale man with a large gash in his middle looking at me as if nothing happened.

"Hi sorry to bother you but do you think I could possibly come in?" the strange man said

"you see I'm a ghost and I melt in the rain and I would really not like to be out here for long" he added to his previous statement rubbing the back of his ghost head

"Uhh sure thing bud" I say telling him to follow me. Walking into my home the man follows behind rather fast and sits him self in front of my couch facing the fire place that was still blazing.

"This is a nice place you have here" He said looking back at me "If you don't mind me asking what aesthetic is this? Its nice but confusing" He asks

"Oh its Dark Academia and Cottage core mixed into one I um I picked it up from my old friend who taught me everything I know" I say trying not to drop any hints that could get me possibly killed by Dream

"So he was like your professor?" He asks looking at me with a twinkle in his eye

"you could say that" Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Turning to face the door that I hadn't moved from since we got in opening it slightly to find two rather tall men in front of me one with pink hair and one with blonde hair covered by a hat of some sorts, suddenly I feel the ghost man's presence behind me.

"Hello, can I help you two men?" I ask politely opening the door more for them to get a proper look at me

"Yes you can we were told that you could help us with a little problem" the blonde man starts all of a sudden the ghost behind me shouts a loud Phil and the blonde and Pink haired men look at me suspiciously. The pink man quickly draws his sword and holds the tip of it to my thought

"Why is Ghostbur here?" the man asks me with his rough sounding voice

"If I was you I would put your sword down before you regret it" I respond and he just chuckles at me

"What are you going to do-" He asks but is quickly shut up when his sword has been thrown into the clearing far enough away from him so he could not reach it without having to move away from the door. He slowly looks at my hands to see that I have a stick (so he thought) in my hand

"What did you do?" He asks in a threatening tone

"I warned you but you did not heed it so I will ask you this once and once only who-" before I got to question the men in front of me ghostbur spoke up interrupting me

"This is my brother Technoblade and this is my dad Philza" pointing at both the men "she was just letting me stay till it stopped raining she meant no harm" he says putting a hand on my shoulder making a shiver run up my spine, his hand was freezing like ice, Looking back at the two men in front of me I come to the conclusion to speak up finaly

"What did you two want? And how did you find this place" Techno looked at me like he wanted to kill me and Phil just sighs and takes off his hat

"us three where supposed to come find you together but Wil here wandered off and found you we where told you where a necromancer of some kind and where hoping that you could bring my son here back from the dead?" Phil asked with hopeful eyes

"I-I'm sorry I don't do that anymore not since Dream had threatened me with execution if I ever did it again considering what happened the last time" I say looking back at the eyes of this ghosts father "But I can provide warmth, tea and shelter considering night is falling near and it hasn't stopped raining." I say giving Phil a sad smile

"That would be wonderful thank you..." He stops realising that I haven't told any of them my name

"Oh its Y/n my names Y/n" I say moving to the side to let the boys into my house which they gladly step in out of the cold.

*Time skip to later on in the night*

Ghostbur's POV

Me and Y/n sat on her couch enjoying each others company while Phil and Techno shared her bed.

"I just realised your the necromancer that Tommy keeps going on about!" I shout with a chuckle

"Tommy? As in the kid who came to me because he needed some where to hide because of my brother Dream?" she says to me and I look at her shocked

"Your brother is Dream?" I ask in a quiet scared voice like she would hurt me at any time

"Hey don't worry I'm not going to hurt you I'm nothing like the heartless basterd of a brother I have, he threatened me with execution his own sister, so ive got nothing for him anymore" she says tears welling in her eyes. Reaching out to touch her cheek with my icy hand I wipe any tears that had been shed away from her cheek. I look at her up and down and only now I realise that she has a scar running over her eye brow and down towards her soft looking lips. I let out a sight and pull her into a hug rubbing their back giving them a kiss on the head. It was around four thirty in the morning when I realise she fell asleep in my cold dead arms. I can't help but think, think that if I had been alive when I met her maybe then I would stand a chance to get with her. Wait no bad Ghostbur you have only just met her...But for some reason I cant help but be infatuated with her. Just everything about this young woman interests me. Her pretty H/l H/c hair, her E/c eye's and her soft pink lips that just look pleasant to feel against my own. But I have just met her so why do I feel like this? Why do I feel this way about her?

"Son?" I hear Phil's voice come from in front of me "Why are you crying?" He asks looking confused

"Dad, I um It's uh It's stupid really" I say wiping my own tears away

"You can tell me kiddo" He says smiling sitting in front of the glowing fire

"Dad when you met mum how did you know that you like her?" I ask subconsciously rubbing Y/n's back

"Well your mother was all I could think about at any point of the day, Why do you ask son" He replied looking at me in the eyes making me look back down at the sleeping girl on my chest to which he lets out a small 'oh'

"I don't know what to do i just met her and she's all I can think about and it feel so wrong yet so right but I'm also dead and I just I don't know any more Phil!" I say getting louder as I go on feeling Y/n stir in my arms i stop and look down at her seeing that she was still asleep I look back at Dad to see him smirking

"Well I think you've got a chance considering that were the only people she talks to other than villagers for trades" He says getting up and patting me on the shoulder "Try to get some sleep son" with that he walks away back to bed to sleep

*Time skip to 4 months down the line cuz I'm a lazy writer*

Y/n's POV

It's been four months since I met Ghostbur and I met and I have found myself slowly falling for the dead man. But the one thing that has made me realise that is the fact that he has basically moved in with me. But what I didn't realise is that through the forest from my clearing there is a snow biome where Techno's retirement home was sat. But that meant that when my brother went to find Tommy at Techno's house I got a lovely visit from my dick head of a brother.

"Why hello there sister, Ghostbur" He said just waltzing in my front door

"Dream what do you want?" I say to him with an angry look

"What can I pay a visit to my sister?" he asked coming farther into my home that used to be ours till he left for the SMP

"You don't get to say that I'm your sister after you threatened to kill me" I say looking him in that blank lifeless looking mask with the twisted psychopathic smile painted in black.

"Oh sister dearest you know why I threatened you with that and you know what you did to our mother" He said looking over at Ghostbur who had a confused face "Oh you haven't told your little friend here what you did? How you killed our mother in cold blood?" he said trying to gas light me to get a bad reaction out of me

"That's quite enough Dream. I want you to get out of my house now. And I never. Never want you to step foot inside of this house for as long as you live" I say in anger drawing my sword and pointing it at him. He rises his hands in the air and spins on his heels towards the door starting to retreat out of here

"Okay sister but just so you know I will not hesitate to kill you if you step out of line" He said disappearing out of my line of sight. After what felt like eternity I felt Ghostbur's hand on my shoulder and turn me towards his cold body pulling me into a hug

"was what he said...True?" he asks me all I can do is nod my shaky ands grab onto his jumper

"I'm sorry, I if you hate me that's fine I probably deserve it" I say into his chest

"hay no, I don't hate you I just want to know what happened" he said rubbing my back softly

"I...I was born with magic but only one person every one hundred years is born....so at the age of sixteen some people came to take me away but my mum got in the way and....they killed her and well Dream has blamed me for it saying I killed her that it was my fault...But I would never kill my own mother I loved her so much and so if you go outside to the back of the house there is a small grave for her that I made after he left that same day for the SMP when he was seventeen and that's the day he threatened to execute me if I ever try to bring those people anywhere near him so... after they taught me magic they left and they swore never to come near me again" I explained to him all of a sudden Wil let go of me and ran to his room and came back with something blue in his hands

"Your sad hare have some blue it will make yo better" he said handing me the blue automatically making me feel better

"Thank you Ghostbur I feel better now" I say looking up at him to find him staring at me with admiration on his face "hey Will? you okay there?" I ask him but I got no response but before I could ask him again I felt a cold pressure press on my lips It took me a couple seconds before I realised that it was the ghost boys lips and kissed back putting one of my hands on his cheek and the other on his shoulder his hands going around my waist. Pulling away from his lips and press my forehead to his and giggle.

"Phil told me I needed to do that at some point" he said a small smile on his face "I um Y/n if you couldn't already tell I really like you and I would love for you to be my girlfriend" He said to me

"Of course Will! I really like you too" I say leaning back into his cold soft lips kissing him again this time for longer than the last. Every kiss got longer and longer before eventually we where sat on the couch making out. But the make out session was cut short when the loud child burst into the house with Phil shouting after him and Techno not far behind him all three stopping at the door when they see the sight before them and Will And I pull away from each other embarrassed

"Well then... uh I think we will come back later come on boys" Phil says dragging his two other sons out behind him shutting the door quickly leaving me and Ghostbur alone again both of us look at each other and we start laughing soon enough falling asleep in each others arms in front of the crackling fire.

And Ghostbur swore that he could feel warmth after months of not being able to feel it and it was all because of me and loving the sweet ghost boy.

Ayyyyyyy its me here and have this sweet fluff for Ghostbur but I didn't plan on spending four fucking hours on this. Its longer than I spend on my school work which hopefully shows my dedication to this poor book.