#realized i had to cut out his peace sign after i already made the other gifs... sigh.

[lightningcrashes]

BILL MOSELEY as ROBERT "CHOP TOP" SAWYER THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE PART 2 | 1986

[mrs-kmikaelson]

03| The Tribrid

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader Summary: After you find out your father is having and embracing another child, you think life can't get any worse... but you were wrong. Warnings: this gets angsty, kids Words: 2.9K

Masterlist | Part 4

I felt a tidal wave of different emotions. Shock, sadness, fear, and for some reason, anger. My heart sank to my stomach as I tried to process the information.

Until I realized I couldn't. Elijah and werewolf girl were right in front of me. So I shook it off, if that's the way you'd phrase it, and blinked. "You're Klaus' wife?"

Both Elijah and the werewolf cringed. "Ew, no." She made a gagging noise. "I just slept with him once in a moment of- absolute stupidity." Ew. She shook her head and pointed at me. "I just realized I don't know your name- I'm Hayley."

She did the whole 'hold out your hand for a hand shake thing' I already did with Elijah, but I still shook her hand and replied, "Y/N."

Elijah, who looked both vaguely confused and amused, cut in and pointed to us both, "Pardon me, but how, exactly, do you two know each other?"

Something happened in Hayley's eyes before she answered like she was choosing what to say. She glanced at me and then said, "I met her the other day. I spilled my tea on her at the café." 

My brow rose at the lie, but I didn't say anything. I just shrugged and reckoned, "Small world." Hayley's eyes met mine in a thankful expression and I subtly nodded at her before smiling at both of them. "I better get back to the party." I nodded to all the people. "Nice meeting you both- well, formally meeting you, Hayley."

Elijah gave a two-fingered wave that looked almost like a peace sign, but it was too refined looking to be categorized that way. "It's been a pleasure, Y/N." In his eyes, I saw a bit of recognition flash, but it was gone too quickly for me to register.

I turned around and began walking. I didn't really see what I was doing, I was just too focused on trying not to speed out of the building. My mind and my heart raced to see who could move faster and I was beginning to feel like I couldn't breathe.

When I ended up in another hallway, I sped into a room and closed the door without caring who saw me. Immediately, I pressed against it and everything that I'd just repressed in that conversation came rushing back to me in a flood. 

Klaus Mikaelson is having a baby.

My father is having a baby.

I felt like I wanted to cry, and scream, and tear my hair out but I spent way too long doing my hair earlier to even run my hands through it right now. I exhaled, trying to calm myself down. But then another thought came rushing to me. I just met Elijah Mikaelson. God, could this day get any weirder?

The answer to that is yes. Yes, it could. Because I looked up and, staring right back at me, was the Klaus Mikaelson.

I couldn't stop my jaw from actually dropping this time. I was too shocked to even say anything. 

He stepped closer to me and it was like I was frozen. He kept walking closer and closer until he was right in front of me. I couldn't keep my eyes off his because, my God, I have never been so close to him before and his eyes look just. like. mine.

He seemed to see the same thing I saw because, for a second, his blank expression was broken by a small look of curiosity. And, for a second, I wondered if he realized it.

And, for a second, I realized how sad it was that I've been on this planet for five hundred years, and this is the first time I've ever seen my father. And he still doesn't know it.

As he picked me apart with this gaze, there was so much I wanted to say, so much I thought I was over. I'm your daughter, I wanted to blurt out. I wish I had the courage to say it out loud, but there were so many thoughts I had that fought against that.

Her voice echoes throughout my head. Your father wouldn't love you, Y/N.

And with that thought, I close myself off as I'd done many times already. I pushed all my feelings down and pretended harder than I ever had to before, because I don't think I've ever felt anything like this.

I broke eye contact, looking around the room. Canvases sat on easels and drawings and paintings alike lined the walls. I was half stunned by the beauty of the artwork around me. The other half of me was stunned that, just my luck, I'd stumbled into Klaus' studio.

Fuck me.

When I looked back up at him, I didn't have any trouble speaking or looking him in the eye, because I promised myself I wouldn't. Y/N Mikaelson may have been scared to death, but Y/N Y/L/N wasn't; she was a badass tribrid who wasn't afraid of anything.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." He looked a little surprised when I spoke. Why, is an answer I don't have. "I wandered off by accident, just needed some air away from the crowd."

Klaus hummed and his lips upturned in a small, unexpected smile. "Yes, I quite understand that feeling." Oh my God, he's talking to me. He held his hand out. "I'm Klaus," he said, as if I, of all people especially, wouldn't know that.

I reluctantly shook his hand, hoping to God he wouldn't pick anything up with the contact but, luckily, even after I let his hand go, he looked the same. But I'd never know, I suppose; maybe he was just as good at pretending as I was.

"And you must be Y/N," he stated. I stood up straighter. "I've been expecting you."

What?

I controlled my breathing as I waited for his response.

"You're the person that saved the mother of my child yesterday." A large breath would've left me if it wasn't totally obvious. He turned around and started walking. "You snapped a brute's neck, and then," he spun back around, "you left her there with his dead body, knowing he could awaken any second." His tone was less soft now, more accusatory.

Finally, I thought. He was beginning to act like the man I've heard about. 

So why was I still so surprised?

I squinted my eyes slightly. "No, actually," I corrected, "I knew he wouldn't wake up in the time it'd take for someone to get to her."

His voice was sardonic. "And how could you predict such a thing?" 

Using magic, I itched to say, but instead I said, "Life experience," and left it at that. Klaus didn't look like he believed me, but you gotta admit, that's a quip any vampire would use.

He hummed again, but this time, it was less agreeing and more sarcastic. This definitely wasn't how I imagined this happening.

Even if he didn't believe me, he left it alone because, next thing you know, he's moved on from the topic with not even as little as a thank you for saving his pregnant werewolf. 

"So you're a friend of Marcel's?" Well, the motherfucker can eavesdrop. He tilted his head slightly, almost as if he was interested, but I knew better than that, and I had a feeling he knew I knew that, too.

I kept it simple. "Yeah, I've known him for a while."

"Hmmmmmmm," he hummed longer before getting straight to the point, "And were you here, with him, in the entirety of knowing him? Because I heard your conversation with my brother and you look awfully familiar to me, as well." Oh, if I wasn't a vampire, I already know I'd be screwed because my heart would be beating rapidly right now.

He continued, "And I couldn't have seen you with Marcel because, according to your conversation with the saxophone player, you haven't been in New Orleans for a while." He's been watching me? "And I definitely did not see you with him in years prior because I did not even know he was alive."

I came to a mental block on what to say; I felt like I was on trial. But, like always, I tried to keep the storm brewing inside of me as exactly that: inside. On the outside, I was calm and collected, and knew what to say.

That calm and collected version of me walked forward so I wasn't backed into the wall, making myself look more confident than I actually felt at that moment. Klaus' brow raised again, like he expected me to cave in on myself, but I did the exact opposite and shrugged, suggesting, "You must have seen me around somewhere else, then. I've been alive a couple hundred years and, well, the vampire world is a smaller world than it's made out to be, isn't it?"

Klaus just blankly stared at me in response; not for too long, though, because eventually, just like with Elijah, I saw something pass through his eyes, but it was gone before I could even grasp it. His lips tilted into a fake smile as he agreed, "Yes, I suppose so." Lie. 

We both stood there in silence for a few seconds before I cleared my throat. "Well, I better get going and make sure Marcel hasn't gotten into any trouble." I smiled, but he could probably tell just as well as I could that there wasn't any authenticity to it.

He nodded, and I couldn't have been out of that room faster. I didn't stop to look at the expression on his face, didn't stop to look at the artwork in the room or didn't even stop to think. I just walked as fast as I could and didn't stop, even when I reached the courtyard. I didn't stop until I was outside completely to even breathe.

Panic bubbled in my chest, but I stuffed it back down. I'd let my guard down mere minutes earlier and look it where it got me, in the same room, alone, with my father who I've never met.

Let's not forget that said meeting was caused by me running off from my uncle and the werewolf pregnant with my sibling.

What the actual fuck.

What's next, fucking grandma and grandpa come back from the grave? Would I be surprised at this point?

Why couldn't I have just stayed in New York? New York was simple; it was easy, it didn't require me to dig into my past or think about the family that was ignorant to my existence.

And now I'm here. I've met my father, something I've both dreamed and had nightmares about for my entire life. Half of me is content with having met him, but the other half wishes it never happened. 

Tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked them away. 

Don't you dare cry, Y/N. You cry later. You need to be strong right now.

I blinked faster until I didn't feel the wetness in my eyes anymore and exhaled before I walked back into the Abbatoir in search of Marcel. I didn't feel like meeting another family member right now, so I'd like to leave ASAP, actually.

I found him talking up a broad in the corner and made my way over to him. My mind went to Camille immediately, but I shook that thought off. Cami didn't know  about all this stuff and, besides, her and Cellie weren't a thing so it didn't matter.

I stopped when I was right next to the blonde he was talking to and his eyes met mine. I didn't bother looking at the girl, instead giving Marcel a look that I hoped he was able to understand. "I'm heading out now. You coming or what?"

He opened his mouth like he was gonna answer one thing but closed it as if he thought different. "Uh, go without me," he mumbled over the music. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I nodded, leaning forward to kiss his cheek in goodbye. I waved. "See you then." And then I walked away, waiting until I was outside the slaughter house to speed to my house, not in the mood for a stroll through the Quarter.

The actions of me unlocking my door all the way to me undressing and falling into bed were a blur. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I felt the tears I'd been holding in leak out of my eyes.

The tears burned my skin like they were tiny shards of glass, my shoulders shaking like I was cold, but really I felt so hot that I could explode. The same way, even though I was crying like I was sad, I was actually angry.

I was so angry that this was what my life was like. I was so angry that I've never had family experiences. I was so angry that they'd all gotten a thousand years together and I was just thrown to the side. And it made me feel horrible that I was so angry about Klaus fathering another kid when he didn't even know about me.

I was so angry that I wished the tears running down my face were tiny shards of glass, 'cause maybe then the pain inside could've been drowned out by that.

As a vampire- hell, even as a werewolf, I could escape physical pain. But everything on the inside was still there. As hard as I tried to pretend, that girl on the inside that worried and whose heart raced- I could never escape her.

A sob left my lips at that thought. 

And I cried until I couldn't cry anymore and fell asleep.

THIRD PERSON, EARLIER 

Marcel stood with Rebekah in a corner of the Abbatoir, a hard expression on his face while she leaned against a pillar and crossed her arms. In his eyes, she turned against him, but in hers, she was putting her family first.

Putting her family first meant pulling him aside to scold him on why he'd attend a Mikaelson event, knowing he was on Klaus' hit list. To Rebekah, Marcel had a death wish.

But Marcel had pride, just like Niklaus, and even just like herself. And that pride that she had was perhaps the real reason why she'd pulled him aside in the first place: because of his human girlfriend.

To Marcel, Rebekah didn't give a damn about him, just like Klaus. So that's why, instead of flirting per usual, they instead stared at one another with uncertainty they couldn't see.

Breaking their stare-contest was a blonde that came over and called Marcel's name. Both of their heads whipped around, but the blonde's gaze was directed entirely at Marcel as if she were purposefully ignoring Rebekah, making her narrow her eyes.

As soon as the girl came over, she'd captured Marcel's attention completely. "I'm heading out now," she stated. "You coming or what?"

So they came together, Rebekah thought, as she analyzed the girl. Although she was blonde, she was not Camille. Who the hell is she?

But the longer she stared, the more questions she came up with, questions that steered away from Marcel entirely because Rebekah realized that this girl looked so oddly familiar.

Almost like herself.

Marcel glanced at his ex-girlfriend momentarily, as if remembering she was there, before looking back to the girl and muttering that she could go without him.

The girl nodded and kissed his cheek, forcing Rebekah's to tense. And without a single glance in her direction, she left.

The Mikaelson stared after her as she maneuvered through the crowd until she was no longer visible, turning to Marcel to see him already looking at her.

If she wasn't a thousand years old, perhaps she'd be blushing.

She smiled artificially like it didn't bother her, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. "And that was...?"

He scoffed. What gives her the right to act like we're together? He questioned to himself, but there was a long list of things he'd probably never say out loud to Rebekah. "That was a friend," he emphasized, "a friend who was there for me after you and your family left me to burn in the Opera House-"

She groaned, breaking her calm composure. "Bloody hell, Marcel, when are you going to let go of that one? I thought we were past it-"

"I'm not past anything." He gave her a steely glare, both of them silent for a moment before he fixed his blazer and spoke. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I actually have better things to be doing right now."

Rebekah resisted a scoff as he walked away from her, towards the crowd. She didn't understand him. God, he frustrated her almost just as much as Niklaus did. 

With the thought of her brother, her mind drifted back to the woman that'd just left before Marcel did. She tried her best to reimagine her face in her mind. She was distracted, though, by Hayley coming up to her and talking to her about her brother. And just like that, the girl from earlier disappeared from Rebekah's mind completely.

But maybe, just maybe, if she'd thought about it a little longer, then she would have realized that the blonde talking to Marcel looked just like her. That she looked like her once best friend, Klaus' lover.

Maybe she would've realized that the girl was a Mikaelson.

[lxclerc]

𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 | 𝐝𝐫𝟑

SUMMARY: in which daniel is terrified the whirlwind of his world would make you leave him. REQUEST: from anon: “Angry!daniel cause ever since y/n and him went public, paps won't leave her alone and she feels overwhelmed so he gets pissed and goes off on them”  WARNING: invasive paps, hints of anxiety PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x reader WORD COUNT: 1.9k

NOTE: i actually genuinely hate this haha definitely not my best writing

MASTERLIST

I’d give you my sunshine, give you my best. But the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me. Is it enough if I never give you peace?

The first time you got sent hate after going public with Daniel, you laughed it off as you showed it to your boyfriend, finding the entire concept of someone going out of their way and taking time out of their day and putting in effort just to send such brainless comments about someone they’ve never talked to. 

“My first hate comment,” you joke, placing your head against his shoulder. “Does this mean I’ve made it?”

But Daniel doesn’t seem to find it as funny as his arms wrapped around you, a frown on his face as he gently took the phone from you, already making a mental note of the usernames. “I can speak up about this. Maybe lessen it a little.”

Your laugh cuts off when you realize he’s genuinely upset and so you take your phone back, putting it down as you place your chin against his chest, looking up at him to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to, Dan. It’s just a bunch of jealous idiots hiding behind their screens and it means nothing to me. I know what I signed up for when I started dating you.”

Daniel says nothing else, only pulling you closer to him as he meets your lips in a soft kiss, making you smile thinking that was it but still, Daniel couldn’t help the sudden sinking in his stomach. He hates the fact that you’ve accepted that loving him comes with dealing with hate and he can’t help but wonder how long you can take it till you decide it’s enough, making fear rise in his chest. 

—

The first time you appeared in the Paddock, the whirlwind of photographers and fans alike crowding around you and your boyfriend had you holding on to Daniel’s hand a little tighter, letting him pull you towards him in a subtle way to shield you from the cameras and the prying eyes, a crease appearing in his forehead.

Still, you only smile at him, trying to ignore the crawling in your skin as you give him a reassuring squeeze, not wanting to worry him before a race because of a silly little thing.

However, everyone can see that the public’s interest with you seems to be different from their interest from the other wives and girlfriends. Perhaps it’s because of your bubbly persona or the way Daniel seems so madly in love with you but they took special interest in everything you do, your follower count skyrocketing from a few hundreds consisting of friends to millions in a matter of days. 

“Y/N!” An interviewer called, saying your name as though you’re close friends rather than complete strangers as he all but shoves his mic to your face, making you stumble back a little till Daniel wrapped an arm around your waist to stabilize you. “How do you think Daniel will do this qualifying?” 

Daniel was about to speak, probably to make some excuse that would save you from the intruding interviewer but you only give him a nervous smile, not wanting to cause a scene or make yourself seem snobbish that would in turn reflect on your boyfriend.

And so you answer with as much grace as you can manage, trying to school your features into a smile that you hoped doesn’t look as uncomfortable as it feels. “To be honest with you, I’m still not quite sure how the sport works but one thing is for sure, however Dan performs, I’ll be cheering for him.”

And with that, Daniel is steering you away before anyone can ask anything else, not wanting to overwhelm you the first time that you come to a race to support him. 

“That was weird,” you mutter once you’re far enough away from the group of people, the McLaren motorhome becoming visible as the pit of fear in his returns.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, hand holding yours unknowingly becoming tighter. “They can be invasive. I should have told you.”

You’re quick to spot the immediate worry appearing in his voice along with the crease in his eyebrows and so you make sure to give him a smile, planting a kiss on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Dan. It isn’t your fault and I don’t mind answering a few questions.”

—

Still, the media’s fascination with you only seems to grow. You’re not entirely sure either for what reason but it only seems to get worse as the entire issue with McLaren reaches the media. You’ve been busy mostly getting Daniel’s mind out of it as the two of you went camping with a few friends, deciding on a no phones allowed week filled with just each other.

The moment you come back though, everything seems to fall over. You aren’t like the usual models like the other WAGs are. You actually do have a boring desk job and an irritating boss and live pretty much a normal life. 

Of course up until you came in for work and a hoard of people with cameras came at you.

“Y/N, did you know about Daniel leaving McLaren?”

“Has Daniel told you about his future?” 

“What do you have to say about McLaren sacking Ricciardo in exchange for Piastri?” 

You can feel your chest getting tighter as you fight through the hoard to get back to your car, wanting nothing more than to get away from the invasive questions. Once your doors are locked and you’re back in the safety of your car, you immediately dial Daniel’s number, hands slightly shaking as cameras continue to go off outside.

“Dan?” Your voice is shaking too, you realize as you take deep breaths.

“Honey?” He asks and you can still hear the sleep lacing his voice. “I thought you’re at work.”

“I was,” you say, suddenly thanking everything that your car is tinted and no one can look inside from the outside. “There are paparazzis here and photographers. They were asking questions about you and I’m just–” You cut yourself off, unable to continue as your voice shakes again. “There’s a few of them surrounding my car.”

“What? Fuck.” Daniel suddenly sounds aware as you hear shuffling from his side as he gets out from the comfort of your shared bed. “I’ll come pick you up. Where are you?”

“No, no,” you say immediately. “I’ll drive home. I just wanted to let you know. They were asking me about McLaren and stuff and I didn’t want you to get in trouble.” 

“Who cares about that?” He sounds angry but you know it isn’t you he’s angry with. “I’ll run them all over.”

“Just stay there,” you tell him, already starting your car. “I’m on my way home.”

You hear him sigh and you know he wants to fight back again, wanting to be the one to pick you up and make sure you’re safe but he also knows there’s no way you’ll agree and so he can only nod his head despite the fact that you can’t see him. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for this, baby.” 

“It’s fine,” you’re quick to say even though you both know it isn’t. “It’s not your fault, Dan.”

“Still,” he insisted. “They’re bothering you because of me.”

You sigh, not knowing what else to say and you sound so tired that it breaks Daniel’s heart. Are you tired of it? Tired of dealing with everything that comes with him? Are you tired of him?

“We’ll talk when I get home,” you say instead.

— 

“Daniel Ricciardo caught punching photographer.”

You sigh as Michael read the words, hand on Daniel’s wrist as you cleaned his wound gently. After a good night in celebration of his p5 finish in Singapore, the last thing you’d expected was this. A dinner date that was going inexplicably well as you and Daniel giggled over glasses of wine, hands entwined on the table. It was almost perfect if it weren’t for the sudden appearance of a couple of men with cameras blocking your paths as you move to go back to your hotel.

Daniel had you behind him, doing his best to shield you away from the prying questions but it was getting harder and harder as the few men became a horde after fans just passing by recognized him. He was trying his best to keep you behind him, arms wrapped around you in an attempt to put a barrier between you and the people you didn’t know.

His plan was to get you safely in the car then maybe he’d come back out to sign some stuff and get pictures, not wanting to completely ignore his supporters. However, that all flew out the window the moment one of the photographers wrapped a hand around your wrist, pulling you back and making you yelp as you almost fell if it weren’t for your boyfriend’s arm around you.

“Hey, man, let her go.” The restrained anger is clear in Daniel’s as he glared at the man still holding on to your arm.

But the man seemed to have heard nothing as he turned to you. “Y/N, I just have a few questions–”

But the photographer was unable to finish his sentence with Daniel’s fist colliding with his face. He’s never been one to result to violence but all he can seem to see is red as the man kept pulling at your wrist and before he knew it, he was pulling his arm back for a punch. 

“I told you to let go of my girlfriend, you fucker,” he spat out at the photographer now on the floor. 

Daniel seems ready to throw another punch but you’re quick to pull him away by his arm, the two of you barely escaping the clicks of cameras and videos that you’re sure is already trending on twitter.

And so here you were, in his hotel room as you cleaned his bloody knuckles, Michael standing over the two of them as he read the headlines. 

“McLaren marketing will handle it,” Daniel says and you know he’s still angry. “At least they’re useful for something.”

You couldn’t help but sigh again as you offer Michael a smile. “We’ll talk to you tomorrow, Mike.”

The trainer thankfully took the hint, nodding as he leaves the two of you by yourselves. For a moment it’s quiet as you entwine your hand with Daniel’s, placing it on your lap. You rest your head against his shoulder as you allow the silence to comfort the two of you.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “We were having such a great night.”

You smile softly at him, moving your head so your chin is on his shoulder. “It was still a good night, Dan.”

“I don’t know how you can keep doing it, stay with me and have your privacy be regularly violated.”

Is it okay if I never give you peace?

“Because I love you.” There’s no hesitance in your voice as you say it. “Being with you and watching you do what you love makes it all worth it.”

“For how long?” There’s genuine fear in Daniel’s voice as he asked it, finally voicing out thoughts that have been plaguing his mind for months.

But you only smile that reassured smile of yours at him, seemingly so sure of your answer. “For as long as you want me.”

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #51: Locked In

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, torture, begging, multiple whumpers, sadistic whumpers, claustrophobia, trapped in small container, burns (lots!), death wish / suicidal ideation, starvation, weight loss due to starvation, brief mention of being mocked for weight loss, brief mention of vivisection/gore

i know i said #51 would be present arc big plot thing but i just got hit with inspo for this so that'll be #52. i just needed to grab kane and shake him around a little like my own personal stress ball.

-

Kane used to pace his cell sometimes, back in the early days. There wasn't much else to do. But he'd grown far too tired in the months or years since, crumbling to his knees from exhaustion after only a minute or two of circling now that he was caged in this starved, failing body.

So he just sat in the corner. His corner, the one in the back that was furthest from the stairs. He sat huddled in a little ball, like he had any ability to protect himself from whatever anyone wanted to do to him, and waited for the next one.

Kane sometimes fantasized that they would just stop coming down one day, leave him here alone. That he would be allowed to heal in peace, the only pain left the inescapable hunger, and he could live out the rest of his nights in peace. Even if he was trapped and starving and alone, it would be so much better than this.

But sure enough, he eventually heard hunters approaching, as they always did. He pressed himself back against the wall, following the useless instinct that told him to protect himself, to put as much distance as he could between him and danger, even if it was just a centimeter more.

THUNK.

Kane let out a gasp at the sound, heavy metal on concrete stairs. The most dreaded thing he could possibly hear, a telltale sign of the board. The board didn't always mean the sun, but it always meant something awful. If he was lucky, he'd just be cut open, silver dragging and burning through vulnerable innards that were never supposed to be seen at all.

If he was lucky, that was. And Kane was almost never lucky.

As the sound of the hunters dragging the thing down the stairs drew closer, Kane realized this wasn't the board. He'd lost almost everything in this place, but not his keen hearing. This was different. It sounded different. Heavier.

A new board, maybe? But the hunters already complained about the weight of the board, occasionally mocking him for how little he added to it as there grew to be less and less of him, skin sticking to bone. Why would they make it heavier?

"This thing's way too fucking heavy," one complained distantly.

Thunk.

"I can't believe you actually made this," another laughed.

Thunk.

"Well, we got that new batch of silver, gotta make some use of it. Not like we can't just melt it down again later to make something useful out of it. Might as well have a little fun first."

Thunk.

Three of them then, at least. Kane hated it when there were so many. They tended to egg each other on. If there was just one, a single hunter might concede to his begging and stop early, or go softer on him. But few of the hunters who hadn't left yet would dare to do so in front of their peers.

And whatever they had, it was silver, and it was for him. Kane whimpered, wrapping his arms around his head as wave after wave of terror rocked through him.

The sound of the stairs stopped, the delicious, horrifying smell of humans coming closer and closer. The thing, the silver thing meant for him, dragged leadenly across the floor.

Kane's heart practically stopped in his chest as the hunters finally came into view.

It was a box.

The box was small, much smaller than the board. While the board required him to stretch out and locked his wrists and ankles to the corners, exposing every inch of him, fitting inside this would require him to curl up as tightly as he could.

As small as it was, it was clearly very dense, requiring all three hunters to carry it downstairs. And though humans were physically weak as a rule, these men were clearly strong for their species. Kane was weaker than a human now. There was no way he would be getting out of this.

The box's silver gleamed menacingly, two small holes in the side of the lid and just below it giving Kane pause. Their purpose was clear: they were for a padlock to be threaded through, sealing the lid to the box with its contents trapped inside. And he was under no delusions as to what the contents would be.

Tears sprung to his eyes as he stared at the horrible thing, terror sending tremors through him. He wouldn't be able to beg himself out of this, not when they'd spent effort making this just for him. He was going in there.

One of the hunters laughed. "Look, it's shaking with excitement."

The one who'd claimed making the thing unlocked the door. "Look, leech, we got you a present. Say thank you." He waved for the others to drag it inside,

Kane just stared at him for a moment, until his fear-addled mind caught up with the order. "Thank you, sir," he choked out.

The two hunters holding the box snickered as they dropped it down in his cell, though its maker only grinned.

"Please." Kane's voice came out high-pitched and warbly as his tears started to fall, staring up at the hunter in front of him with big, watery eyes, "Please don't make me go in there, sir, please. I'll be good, I- I'm trying to be good, please!"

He felt like he was scrambling at a cliff wall, unable to get back up to where he could be okay, where he could be a person again. A person who could make choices, choose to be better than he was the day before. Kane wanted to be better. He was ready to be better. He had learned his lesson long ago.

But he wasn't allowed to change. He'd run out of chances, and now he was stuck down here, no matter how hard he tried.

The hunter crouched, eye-level with him, and grabbed him by the hair. Not pulling just yet, but his grip was firm. "Yeah, you'll be good, won't you, parasite? Tell you what. If you're real good and get in the box all on your own, we'll only keep you in there for a little bit. But if you make us shove you in there and give us a hard time about it, that'll be your new home."

The hunter turned Kane's head to face the box. "Every time we're done having our fun with you, you'll go back in the box. And when someone wants to play with you, you'll come out. And when they're done, you'll go right back in, and you'll stay nice and snug in there until someone else is ready to take their turn. Like a toy. Is that what you want?"

Kane was fully panicking by now, bright-red eyes boring into the hunter with unbridled horror.

The only respite he had left was the time he had to himself between the hunters' visits. To have his cell replaced with this- the torture would never stop. It would be all the time, twenty-four hours a day every day for his entire life, a burning that never left. He imagined being taken in from a day in the sun, and instead of being allowed to painfully recover on the floor, being stuffed into a silver box instead, grilling into already-fresh burns covering his whole body.

"NO!" he cried, clasping his hands together desperately as the other two hunters tried to hold in their tittering. "I'll do anything! Please, sir, anything, please don't! Please don't do that to me, please don't make it my n-new home, I'll be good, please!" He sobbed brokenly, unable to contain his despair.

The hunter let go of his hair and gestured to the box. "Then get in."

One of the others flipped the lid up. The inside was just as silver as the outside, not that he'd expected different.

Kane wanted to curl up in a ball and stay in his corner. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to hide. He wanted to grab a stake off the one hunter who was still wearing his gear and kill himself, though he'd never be fast enough to be successful.

But none of those things were possible. He had no choices.

"Yes, sir." Kane forced himself to his feet and walked over to it. Purposefully, without hesitation. He didn't want to be accused of stalling. The only virtue he had worth anything here was his obedience, and he would hold onto it for dear life.

The inside beckoned him, every surface ready to kiss his skin with fresh burns that would plague him for the next month, as his starved body struggled to heal.

He touched the inside of the lid with the tip of his finger, yanking it back with a whimper as it seared, just as he knew it would.

If Kane was going to do this horrible thing, fit his whole body inside, he would need a plan. It wasn't hard to think of, and not logistically difficult to execute: he needed to protect his face and the soles of his feet. The former to retain his senses, and the latter so he could walk when ordered about.

He couldn't wait any more without being considered disobedient. The three hunters watched him with amusement, but they would soon turn to prodding if he continued to stare at it.

Kane lowered himself toward the box, touching he knee to the box's center. He wailed as he laid it down, his skin sizzling under the touch of silver. He held all his weight on that knee for just a moment as he maneuvered his other leg inside, placing it beside the first so he knelt on the silver. Tears rolled freely down his face as his shins pressed against the torturous metal, his skin frying underneath him, the tips of his toes just barely kept from touching the side.

The next part was quick. He ducked down, curling into himself, his arms between his face and the box's floor while his back would face the lid. He didn't touch the backs of his arms to the bottom, not yet, not while there was still space for him to hover. The top of his head did press against the side, his malnourished, patchy hair thankfully offering minor protection from the silver surrounding him on all sides: it did burn, but not nearly as bad as his agonized legs.

All but one.

He sobbed as he burned, the feeling of silver searing against his shins unbearable. "I d-did it, sir."

"Fuck me, I didn't think it'd actually go for it," one of the hunters commented.

"That's our vamp. We've got you all trained up, huh?" asked the hunter who gave the order.

"Yes, sir," Kane sniffled, the smell of burning flesh beginning to permeate the air.

He couldn't see, facing the box's floor, but the sound he heard had limited possibilities: it had to be one of them picking up the lid.

"Don't move," the hunter told him.

Watching his tears patter to the silver floor, Kane wanted to beg again. He wanted to plead for someone, anyone to help him. He was trying his best. He just wanted it to stop.

But he was already getting the good option out of the two presented to him. "Yes, sir."

The hunter placed the lid over him, more silver pressing against his back and squeezing him between it and the floor. His arms were forced to the bottom of the box, where they came alight with pain as well, stuck in the burning darkness.

Kane screamed, unable to help himself as he started to struggle, desperate to get away from the thing that was hurting him so much. But he could barely move, let alone put up any real fight. Any direction he tried to move himself in just made it worse. Hunkering himself down made his shins and forearms weep against the silver, trying to push up made his back singe, and he could never move enough in any direction to alleviate the constant, agonizing feeling of being consumed by fire.

"I don't think it likes it in there," one of the hunters sneered.

Kane heard one of them pat the lid, unharmed by the silver burning him alive. "It'll get used to it. Let's give it some time to get comfortable."

A click rung out, the dreaded sound of a padlock locking firmly shut.

He was stuck inside until someone saw fit to- "Please let me out!" he bawled, desperate. "Please, sir, I can't, it hurts, please don't leave me in here!"

One of them chuckled. "Just relax. You'll get used to it. You're right where you're supposed to be. You're lucky we're not making it your new home after all."

Kane wept as he heard the hunters walk away, leaving him alone in his torment.

-

taglist in reblog! part 3 of the AU i've been posting will be coming tomorrow :) i was gonna write it tonight but i just got so inspired for this and wrote it all in 1 sitting over the past 3 hours lol

oh and have some drabbles i've posted since #50!

canon:

Playing With Food

Blowtorch

AU:

No Escape

Bellamy Saves Kane 2

and some awesome fanfics that got posted!!

Home Sweet Home? by @whumpwritings

The Final Apology by @clickerflight

[analogwriting]

Star-Crossed

Chatper 16: Harts

Donquixote Rosinante x gn!reader word count: 3k a/n: not me just realizing how close to the end we are lmfao first|next

After your talk with Pops, you had a whole new slew of things to think about. On one hand, you were glad to know a little more about your mother and father. The man that Pops had described, it wasn’t your father, but it was the man he used to be. Now that you thought about it, you could’ve swore you remembered him like that once. But, they were much like the memories of your mother; distant and not quite sure if it’s a fabrication or not.

You honestly still couldn’t believe their love story was nearly identical to yours. Part of you wondered if maybe it wasn’t Fate playing her cards, but your mother helping you to have some kind of peace from beyond the grave. Maybe she saw what your father was about to do, so she decided to soften the blow. Either way, you were glad Corazon was in your life now. You weren't sure if you would've been able to pull through this otherwise. 

He just had this natural way of keeping you grounded. Despite his clumsiness, he kept you calm.

On the other hand, more questions popped up. The main one being - why? Why did your father decide to tell you everything? Why did he admit that he'd been the bad guy the whole time? He could've let Crocodile and Doflamingo do the dirty work and played the innocent card. He could've gotten off scot-free, so why admit everything?

You wondered why he would decide not to just cut you off sooner, but you supposed he needed your ties to take over the hospital. He knew he couldn't just storm the place; too many people had already tried that and failed. He went the round about way to get to you. So, you knew he feared you. There was nothing you could do, however. You signed over the hospital, it was legally theirs. 

“I can hear you thinking from inside,” Corazon said as he stepped onto the back patio with you. Pops had wanted to talk to Corazon alone for whatever reason. You thought the blond man was going to pass out when you left. The panicked look in his eyes told you everything, but you reassured him it would be just fine.

While you waited, you decided to grab something small to eat and wait outside. You hadn’t really eaten anything in the past week, so you knew you wouldn’t be able to eat a lot and since you'd been cooped up in the dark for so long, you figured some sunlight would do you good. 

“What did Pops want?” you asked, looking at him. You could already somewhat guess. It was like this whenever you or Marco started dating someone.

He paled, shaking his head and a shrug. “Nothing, really.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Doesn't look like nothing. Lemme guess, the typical dad routine of ‘what are your intentions with my child' and all that jazz? Maybe some threats?” A sly grin spread across your face.

The man signed, nodding. He knew he couldn’t keep anything from you. You would either figure it out or he’d just end up telling you anyway. “Yeah…”

You laughed, shaking your head. You were so lucky to have Pops. You supposed your father hadn't really filled the role in a very long time. At least you had someone in your corner that you could rely on. Pops had always treated you the same way he treated Marco. He was really your father when you boiled it down. You were sure your father hated you for that too. He had always seemed fine with it, but now it was clear he resented you for it.

“What were you thinking about?” It was clear Corazon was trying to change the subject and also stop you from whatever down spiral that your thoughts were trying to form.

“Trying to figure out why Anthony bothered to tell me anything. He could've just played the innocent card, but he didn't. He severed all ties.”

“Maybe he was banking on the psychological damage being enough to take you out permanently. After all, that place is your life's work and he knew that. He knew you'd fight tooth and nail for it. So, he made you rethink your life and then threatened those you care about.” Corazon frowned, shaking his head. “You said he saw you ‘weak’ like your mother, so perhaps he thought that this would all be enough to mentally break you beyond repair.”

You just stared at him for a moment, your eyebrows slightly raised. You weren’t expecting such an accurately sounding answer. “I suppose he's still in the business, so I shouldn't expect anything less.” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Ugh, I was so foolish and naive,” you grumbled. 

Corazon sat next to you on the patio bench, wrapping his arms around you. “Don't go blaming yourself. How were you supposed to know your own flesh and blood was going to betray you like that?” 

You sighed, looking at him. “I suppose you're right. And I mean, your own brother shot you, so I guess I was let off easy.” You placed your hand on his torso where the bullet went through. You frowned. “Why do families suck?” You groaned again. 

He laughed, pressing a kiss to your head. “Well, I wouldn't say all families, but our blood relatives ended up being the worst, that's for sure.”

You looked up at him, smiling. “I suppose you're right. It’s just like that old saying. ‘Blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb’ or whatever. Just cause you're related by blood doesn't mean anything. Pops and Marco have shown me more love than my father ever did and I know for a fact they'd never do to me what he did.” You sighed, leaning into Corazon. 

“That's true. And there's something a little more special about found family than blood relatives.”

“It's better to be like, ‘I love you cause you're a goofball’ instead of ‘I love you only because we share blood.’” You shook your head with a small smile. “More genuine, I guess.” You shrugged, settling into the man next to you and closing your eyes. 

Man, you wished this moment could last forever. The weather outside was perfect, not too hot or cold. A slight breeze that wasn't too much and provided just the right amount of coolness. There was an air of tranquility and you had no doubt that Corazon brought that with him.

For a moment, you were content with the outcome of things. Sure, everything you loved and cared about fell apart, but it felt like it was going to be okay as long as you had the man next to you. It's not like there was anything you could really do anyway. You signed papers and it was all legal. You were starting to come to terms with it. It sucked, yes, but you’d be able to live on.

“Y/n.” 

“Yes?”

“What is your legal last name? Is it the same as Whitebeard’s?” You sat up, looking at him for a moment. “Yes. It is. Why?” You tilted your head to the side slightly.

“As in, you changed your government name to his last name?” You nodded again, not seeing what he was getting at. “And I'm assuming it was that name that you bought the hospital with as well.” You nodded once more. Just what was he getting at? Were you dense for not understanding right now?

“When you signed the papers, which last name did you sign with?”

You thought for a moment then it hit you. Your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat. You'd been so caught up with your past coming back to bite you in the ass, that you'd signed with your father's last name. Not with what it legally was now. “I signed it with Anthony's last name,” you whispered, still in disbelief yourself. 

A slow, sly grin appeared on Corazon’s face. “So, I guess we can say that legally those papers are null and void. They aren't worth anything. The hospital is still yours.”

You were just staring at him, your eyes wide. Your brain was spinning with this new information. This new sliver of hope. You could honestly cry. This was the ace in the hole that you needed. Excitement and joy blossomed in your chest.

You reached up, taking his face in your hands. “You're a genius. I don't know what I'd do without you,” you mumbled, kissing him hard. He didn't make any startled noises this time, only kissing you back. You slipped into his lap, straddling him. He slowly sat back as you pushed him into the side of the bench. You let out a small, breathy moan as you felt his hands squeeze your thighs. 

You heard the click of the balcony door, signaling that someone was coming outside. Dammit, Marco. You jumped, quickly removing yourself from Corazon's lap and pulling him upright. He let out a small noise of disappointment. You straightened yourself up and then went to straighten up the man next to you when you noticed the glazed, almost drunk look to him.

He was frowning in a small pout and you couldn't help but chuckle. “I'm sorry,” you whispered. He let out a small huff, shrugging. “It's fine,” he mumbled. 

You kissed his cheek, heart still racing. “Just wait until I finally take you to mine,” you whispered in his ear as Marco joined the two of you on the patio. You watched with amusement as Corazon's face turned even more red and he shifted in his seat. 

“Am I interrupting?” Marco narrowed his eyes at the two of you. It was clear that he was just hoping to catch the two of you so he’d have some blackmail. Shithead. Though, you’d do the same thing just to mess with him.

“Not at all. Cora was just giving me the best news I've heard all week.” You grinned widely as you crossed your legs, Marco cocking an eyebrow. 

“Which is…?”

“He pointed out the fact that I signed my name as y/n l/n.” Marco looked confused, just as you had. “I don't-” Seems that the both of you were dense. Truly the same person and siblings at heart.

“Marco. What the hell is my name?” You looked at him with a droll expression as if you hadn't been in the same boat five minutes ago.

“I'm still not- OH.” Realization hit him like a freight train and you watched it in real time. After all, he’d been there when you changed your name. His face lit up, his grin growing wide. “So those documents don’t mean shit?” You nodded, your grin mirroring Marco’s. 

“Single handedly saving the hospital, huh?” Marco looked at Corazon who turned red. “I-I don’t know about all that,” he mumbled.

You looked at him, patting his leg. “C’mon, love. Give yourself credit. You pulled me out of my head and gave us our biggest ray of hope.” Though, the moment you called him ‘love’, his brain seemed to short circuit and his face was almost glowing with how red he was. You’d have to keep that pet name if it riled him up this much, it was cute.

You just loved teasing him in general. It was easy and he was so adorable.

“Well, what’s the plan now, then?” You looked over to Marco, sighing. That was the part you were having difficulty with. “I’m not sure. I don’t even know how the hospital is fairing.” You hadn’t done anything in regards to the hospital. You haven’t even checked on your staff. You felt awful for just ditching them. 

Marco shook his head with a sigh. “Probably because someone won’t replace their phone.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together. “The hell does that even mean?” Yeah you hadn’t replaced your phone yet. You didn’t really need to. Everyone you cared about was under your roof and you had figured everyone else was fine without you.

“Good news is that they didn’t change the camera systems.”

You stared at him for a moment before it hit you. Your eyes widened. “They didn’t?” You shook your head, scoffing in disbelief. “Dumbasses.” You grinned, looking to Marco and holding out your hand. This was good. This was so good.

He handed you his phone before leaning back in his chair.

“I’m confused,” Corazon said, looking between the both of you. 

You looked at him and smiled. After grabbing Marco’s phone, it instantly recognized you, your face unlocking it. Of course both you and Marco could unlock each other’s phones with your faces and fingerprints as well as pins and passwords. You didn’t keep anything from each other, after all. Besties for life.

After clicking on a few things and logging in to a security app, you handed the phone to Corazon. He took it, looking at the screen. You watched his face as it took him a moment to process what he was looking at. “Wait, is this the hospital?”

“Damn right.” You grinned, feeling the excitement building back up.

“You still have access to the security cameras?” You nodded, chuckling. You pointed to the phone. “Press the button with the biohazard sign.” He did and he blinked. “This is…”

“Yep. That’s the underground hospital. We have access to it all. They won’t be able to see what hit ‘em.” You grinned widely up at him, excitement showing in your eyes as the man looked at you. You technically still had the hospital and now the secret key to help you sneak around.

“You’re going in there?” Concern and worry washed over his features and you frowned. “Well, yeah. What else am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know…get the authorities involved?”

You frowned deeply. “You know just as well as I do that they won’t do anything to help. They’re incompetent and lazy. And, they are probably being paid off already by the families to stay out of it, so we don’t have a choice. I’m going to have to go in.”

You took the phone back, looking through the cameras. “Besides, I don’t think Doflamingo, Crocodile, or Anthony are there. I would assume it’s all their lackeys.” 

“I can go in and silently take them all out without so much as raising an eyebrow. It’s just a matter of which side I should tackle first for the best advantage.”

“If you’re going, so am I.”

At Corazon’s words, you shook your head. Oh, how you admired his determination. “Absolutely not. You’ve already been shot once because of me.” You weren’t about to let it happen again. Besides, he was still healing from his injury. He might not show it too much, but you could tell that sometimes it made him uncomfortable. 

“You shouldn’t go in alone. I have experience, let me help.”

“Did you forget who I am? All that I’ve done?”

“That was years ago.”

“Did you not see what I did a few days ago?” 

Corazon went silent, a small pout to his face. It was clear that he didn’t like the idea of you being in a dangerous situation, but he couldn’t argue with you. “I never lost my edge. The only difference now is that I have people to protect that I care about. If I go in by myself, it’s easier for me to sneak around and not have to worry about anyone else getting hurt because of me.”

“I’m going to let the two of you talk this out. I’m heading inside to let Pops know.” You looked at Marco, nodding as he left.

You took Corazon’s face in your hands. “I know you’re worried. But I have to do this. Not just for me but for so many people.” You kissed him softly before resting your forehead on his. “I promise that I’ll make it out of there. Just fine.”

The man before you frowned, clearly still not okay with this. “I just…can’t lose you. Especially not when I finally have you.” 

You sighed softly, wrapping your arms around him and he did the same with you. “I’ll be fine. I’ll get the hospital back, fuck everyone up so bad that they never bother us again, and then we’ll live happily ever after.” You pulled away, smiling at him. “And I’ll give you the best shag of your life too.” You snorted, grinning.

Worry still consumed his features. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to be satisfied until everything was over and you were actually safe. “Is it a lot to ask to let go of the past?”

You watched him for a moment. “It’s too late now. You’ve already given me hope and a way to get my life back in order. But after. After I’m going to let it all go, okay?” You kissed his head. You were wondering why he was suddenly against you going. He had given you the information you needed in the first place? Was the situation just settling in?

“I still don’t understand why you won’t let me-”

“Rosinante.” His eyes widened slightly at your tone of voice. “Let’s be honest. It’s been so long since you’ve been in the scene. And you’re incredibly clumsy.” He frowned at your words, but didn’t argue. He pouted like a pet being told no. You couldn’t help but also frown. “I’m sorry. I just can’t have you getting hurt because of me again.”

He nodded, groaning. “Fine. I know there’s no stopping you once you’ve made up your mind.” You smiled up at him, kissing his nose. “It’s going to be just fine. It’ll be over before you know it.”

first|next

[destroyabez]

Hurt

!TW! BLOOD AND INJURY!

Basically Spoider gets hurt really bad (After not taking care of himself of course) and the Tonowari kids freak out because they don't understand human biology + it seems like Spoider's dying.

Set after the events of the movie!

"Ugh.... My stomach hurts...." Spider quietly complained to himself as he came back up holding a part of a mechanical thing. He quickly handed it to one of the older Metkayina warriors, they nodded in his direction before moving to throw the thing on the pile of stuff. They had been out there a while, gathering all the wreckage from the SeaDragon and the other ships. Spider nodded and went back down into the ocean. He felt at peace when he was down here. He quickly spotted a motor and swam towards it, he moved around it and realized he need help to get it out of the water. He looked around for anyone and saw Ao'nung and Tsireya swimming closer to him, He quickly told them in that he needed help with this motor. They nodded as Ao'nung grabbed one side while Tsireya grabbed the other side. They nodded as they all tried to pry the motor from the sand, eventually it gave out but not without an edge cutting into Spiders stomach. It was a long gash and flowed blood almost immediately. Spider hissed but swam up with it still. When they got to the surface one of the Warriors were there waiting for them, He took the motor from their hands and Spider suddenly felt very heavy. He coughed slightly and held his hand to his side "Shit...." He swore in english as he felt the gash, he also felt the twinge in his stomach. He hadn't eaten that morning and it was coming back to bite him in his ass "Are you okay?" Tsireya swam over to him "Oh uh yes I am-" Spider couldn't finish his sentence as his head went under the water. Of course, he was protected by his mask, but it still surprised him. He felt arms around him pulling him back up to the surface "Whats wrong with you Skxawng!?" He looked up with tired eyes to find Ao'nung. Wait, when did his eyelids get so heavy? "I don't- I am Okay?" Spider didn't quite know if he was fine, but he didn't want to distract them from the task at hand "You are lying! I can see you are injured!" Ao'nung responded as he swam to his Ilu while dragging Spider "It's okay! I just need to...." His throat suddenly hurt, and the cut throbbed "See! You are losing conscience!" Ao'nung frantically pulled himself and Spider up onto the Ilu. Spider couldn't find the strength to do anything, but he did say "Mm I am fine-" "Quiet!" Ao'nung hissed as signed something at the others and motioned Tsireya to follow him. Spider grabbed onto the harness on the Ilu as they dove into the water. A little while later though he could feel his hand slipping as black spots filtered into his eyesight. He was about to let go when he felt a strong arm around his torso. He hissed as it rubbed the now burning gash but didn't complain because it was the only thing keeping him on the Ilu. The black spots became bigger until he realized he was going to pass out. He tried to stay awake, but the 'battle' was already lost. He passed out in Ao'nungs arms. Which made Ao'nung panic even more causing him to go faster than he thought was possible. As they got to the shore, he quickly jumped off the Ilu and ran to his mother, Tsireya following close behind "Mother! Please help!" Ao'nung ran into the makeshift infirmary, carrying a passed-out Spider. Ronal quickly looked up from what she was doing when she heard her child in distress "Ao'nung what is wrong?" She moved over to him as he ran to her "Something is wrong with the Sullys son!" Ao'nung lifted up Spider so his mother could see him. Ronal's face scrunched up as she looked at the boy. He was skinny and had a gash on the left side of his stomach. He was breathing really shallow, she grimaced as she plucked him from Ao'nung's arms "Go, I will take care of him" She moved towards a reed bed to lay him down, she spared a glance towards the entrance and found Ao'nung still waiting there nervously as Tsireya looked on from behind him. She looked at them with a warm but stern look clearly telling them to leave. Ao'nung gulped but nodded as he moved back and brought Tsireya with him "What is wrong with him? Will he be alright?" Tsireya finally asked "I do not know" Ao'nung replied.....

THERE WAS A CHARACTER LIMIT

[robo-milky]

1. I have no issue in being the spokesman for this ship i swear. Also so be it, outta the way Cloche, Epel bby come here 😍

2. I thought that ask didnt send?? I completely forgot about the carved apple hc thou good thing you still saw it <3

3. Im just now noticing being tagged as a mutual?? Like i know you follow me too but the tag 😭💕

4. And lastly response to the previous ask (this has been a series of full-blown responses, back and forth amongst us)

Shinning light on Epel's character, he does indeed feel conflicted. He fears Cloche's paranoia and vulnerability after the incident is what made them to be closer. If that's the case then he hates it. Dont get me wrong now Epel's the kind who "fell first and fell harder" but he wants to be sure that his Relationship with Cloche even as friends is genuine. He wants to be sure that the closeness Cloche develops with him is not related to her incident even in the slightest. While he still sees glimpses of OG Cloche with how she responds it still makes him uneasy with how he got closer to her in a few months then he could in a year. He knows Cloche doesn't like him back. The way she looks at his vice housewarden with love in her eyes, he wishes he could be that person. (Dont be jealous of that wannabe Dora 🫶)

But he knows he'll never be. But that doesnt mean he wants to cut all ties with Cloche. She is still special to him. He can move on but he knows that wont be the case for a good while but till then he'll be there for Cloche in her time of need when rook is ojt for internships.

Now thats enough angst on my side since now i just feel bad 😭

That being said, signing off till the next responses, peace out and hugging cloche <3 (and hugs for you as well :D )

Throwing in a lighthearted meme as a cleanser <3 If you know the source, you know 😭 God… The amount of layers to get this- (Shout out to y’all following along the SY! Cloche lore)

[Response]

The true ship was Epel x justm3di0cr3 all along- I’m losing it at the irony of you being the spokesperson of ClochEpel yet also writing the downfall(?) (er… Not ClochEpel ClochEpel)

Sending hearts back at ya <3 Any mutual is a mutual ^^

Going straight for the angst path I see- Not that I’m complaining- I’m all for it!

Waiting for Cloche’ epiphany arc to come, when she finally realizes she shouldn’t have taken Epel and his feelings for granted when he’s gone for good. Before the incident, Cloche would have known about Epel’s one-sided affections for her (at some point), but she’s more confused why he would like her. With that, if Epel ever confronts SY!Cloche to set things straight or were vocal about missing the old Cloche, she’d feel upset and lost.

As the person experiencing the changes, Cloche views the new development as growth. OG!Cloche was distant, always trying to not be a burden, and now she’s opening up her heart to rely on others willingly. Cloche, herself, didin’t think the incident changed her, but was an excuse for her to act upon the fears she already had. How Cloche sees herself vs how Epel sees her, would make for an interesting conflict of misunderstandings. Since Epel wants to be there for Cloche, he probably wouldn’t voice his personal conflicts, and Cloche is too prideful to open up any more.

The few remnants of OG!Cloche that Epel can find, is mostly her uncaring, “so be it” attitude. Despite having been there for her for so long, he’s still bitter that a simple “Salut” from Rook on Magicam is enough to make her …smile. (Barely. The corners of her mouth can tilt up by 1mm, I guess.)

When SY!Cloche does feel better, she wouldn’t apologize to Epel, but more so give a word of acknowledgement. She’d drop the bomb out of nowhere, when they’re just alone, without any warnings at all. And ofc, in OG!Cloche fashion, it’d be hella dry but gets the point across. She is chewing on her pride (she cannot swallow it completely.)

“Thanks …for everything. You make this world a little more tolerable, I guess…”

FR— Epel dealing with SY!Cloche’ hot-n-cold reception is such a big improvement from OG!Cloche’ hot-n-cold.

[abbatoirablaze]

Behind Closed Doors, Chapter 5

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: angst, mentions of aggression/throwing things.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You nodded reassuringly as he cupped your face in his hands.  Your lips trembled as he gave you a sad look.  You could see behind the worried expression in his face, to the exhaustion.  You reached up and stroked the back of his hand, “have you been sleeping?”

“Look at you, little bird,” he smirked, shaking his head, “I came here to rescue you from your gilded cage and all you can do is worry about how I’ve been sleeping.  (Y/N), I’m fine.”

“You look exhausted.”

“I’ve been worried about you,” he admitted after a second, his own sad smile taking over on his beautiful face, “ever since you reached out and told me about what was really going on between you and Chris, I-”

“You reached out first,” you reminded him, “after you saw those pictures in that magazine.”

“Like I said, I’ve been worried about you,” he replied simply, “I know how dead set you were in me not keeping contact when you and Chris found out you were pregnant...I was just trying to respect your wishes...but then when I saw that picture of him drunk, having a night on the town, and it said that he was filming in Calgary...you just gave birth...he should have been there for you.”

“The babies are month old, Sebastian.  He-”

“Should have stayed longer,” he said quickly, cutting you off, “if those babies were mine...if I’d just gotten to you first and we-”

“Sebastian, please...”

He frowned, but nodded, “I’m sorry.  I know this isn’t what you want to hear.  I just-”

“Can we get out of here?” you asked softly. 

He nodded once more, “yeah...of course.  I got an SUV so we could take whatever you wanted.  Made sure there is enough room so that we could fold down a row of seats if you need more space, but-”

“I just want to take their stroller...some clothes and all the care stuff like diapers, wipes, and HBA stuff...and their car seats.”

“You don’t want to take their cribs or toys?” he asked, “there’s plenty of room for it-”

“They sleep better when they sleep with me in the bed,” you admitted with a frown, “I just put a few pool noodles around the edges, not that they’ve wobbled anywhere near close to the edge, but they hate their cribs...even when I put them together, they don’t like being away from me…and as far as the toys...they could care less for the room full of crap that Chris bought.  Money doesn’t replace their father being absent.”

He nodded, “yeah...okay...show me where to go, and I’ll start putting stuff in the car while you get the twins ready.”

“Yeah!” you nodded.  He let go of you and you turned on your heel, making your way through the house.  Sebastian stopped when the two of you reached the bedroom. 

His breath stole away in his throat as he saw the two sleeping infants nestled right beside each other. 

“Shit...” he muttered softly, the realization of it all hitting him like a freight train, “th-they’re-,  well, they’re there…”   

You turned on your heel, a diaper bag already on your shoulder while you wheeled the suitcase beside him, “What?”

“They’re so small,” he whispered softly.  He took a step forward towards the bed, and Johnny shifted.  Shayla whimpered in her sleep, “I-I don’t know what I thought but...they’re so tiny.”

“They were born a few weeks early,” you admitted with a giggle as you passed off the suitcase and diaper bag, “What did you expect?  Full grown toddlers?”

He smiled and looked at you, “they’re beautiful...”

You stopped moving and looked at the twins.  They were so peaceful.  So serene.  As much as it pained you to admit it, ever since Chris left it was like a weight had been lifted from the three of you.  All the tension from the house was gone, and the twins seemed to settle in perfectly fine without him; falling into a comfortable sleep schedule, and easy routine. 

“They are, aren’t they?” you asked softly, “I-I knew what I signed up for when I agreed to do this whole thing...but I-I never really stopped to think about it.  I mean, I always wanted to be a mom...have a big family, but I never thought it was in my cards when I became an escort.”

“And then you and Chris happened...”

“Yeah...”

“Do-do you ever wonder what it would have been like if you didn’t agree to the thing with Chris?” he asked, hoping that it would lead to the conversation of him having a shot at you. 

You shrugged, “I would have met you...but-I think-I think that this was meant to happen first...if that makes sense...Sebastian...you know there’s obviously something between us.  I mean, I feel the chemistry too, but I don’t know what it would be like if me and Chris never happened.  D-do you think about it?”

“Yeah....I do...a lot...”

“And?”

“I think you’re right,” he admitted softly, “I mean, I definitely feel the chemistry too, but I think that me and you were meant to be friends first...but I’ll tell you one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re definitely going to be the woman that I spend the rest of my life with.”

“Sebastian...”

“I know,” he chuckled, shaking his head once more, “that’s not what you want to hear.”

“I-I didn’t say that…I just-this thing with Chris…it’s…it’s a lot…and right now, I just want to get the hell out of here.”

He smiled and held his hand out, “well then...let’s get started with the rest of our lives...shall we?”

“God he’s such a good guy!”  

You felt the blush rising on your cheeks as Sebastian cooed at your daughter.  Shayla giggled excitedly, her little hands grabbing at his face.

“What are you doing, baby girl?” he teased, playfully as she giggled even more, “I’m gonna get your hands.  I’m gonna get those little fingers!”

She squealed as he kissed her hands every time they got close enough to his face. 

“(Y/N!)”

You looked back to Blake, “I’m sorry, what?”

“You okay?” she teased playfully, a smirk growing on her face as she nudged you with her hip.

“Oh, yeah...sorry.  I just-”

“It’s fine,” she smiled as she handed you yours and Sebastian’s coffees, “So...we know the kids aren’t his...but how close are you two, really?”

“What?”

“Come on,” she laughed as she sipped on her drink as you watched him calm down as his friend, and fellow co-star Chace, handed Johnny back to him when one of the guys walked over to join the boys and babies, “he’s tight-lipped about your relationship with him.  He says that you’re his assistant, but he’s the sweetest with your kids.  He hasn’t even looked in the direction of another woman since he brought you and the twins back.  And you’ve been with us for two months...”

Your blush grew deeper on your cheeks as you looked at him.  He was still heavily involved in giving all of his attention to the two playful three-month-olds.

“We-we’re just-taking it slow...”

“I knew it!” she grinned. 

“Blake...”

“Hey, don’t be ashamed!” she laughed, “we all knew there was something going on.”

“Right now...there isn’t,” you said with a shake of your head, “I left a very...complicated situation.  He’s been an amazing man, and friend by coming and helping me out of it.  He gave me a job and lets me stay with him...without him I-I probably would have stayed in that situation.”

“So...do you have feelings for him?”

Your heart lurched in your chest. 

You’d gone to shower after a long day of driving with Sebastian.  He’d insisted that the two of you get a hotel room for the evening after both of you had driven through the afternoon and well into the early evening.  And while you had initially rejected the idea, you were so grateful when you felt the hot water rolling down your back.

But when you’d come out of the bathroom, and you saw that the twins were tucked into both of his arms, and the three of them were asleep.

Game over.

Every hormone in your body was working double-time. 

You wanted to cry. 

You wanted to jump his bones. 

You felt happiness...sadness...every emotion under the sun.

Why wasn’t Chris ever like that with the twins?

Why hadn’t they accepted him as much, or as easily as they seemed to accept Sebastian?

“Sebastian....” you whispered softly, hoping that you could wake him, and he could slip out from the twins and grab a shower for himself, “Sebastian...I’m done.  You can grab a shower if you want.”

“C’mere!” he yawned, his eyes still closed as he gestured for you to join him on the bed, “come and join us...”

“You should grab a shower!” you said softly, “we spent a long time in the car...”

He sighed, his eyes opening ever so slightly.  You felt like it was hard to breathe as his eyes met yours, “you look beautiful like that...”

“Wh-what?” you asked, the word getting choked up in your throat, “li-like a wet rat?”

“You look like you washed away the stress from the past year in that shower...”

“Yeah,” you admitted, “I think I might have...”

He sucked in his cheeks as he stared at you.  His voice held a twinge of jealousy to it, “well...would you look at the happy little family...”

Your heart felt like it stopped in your chest as you saw your ex standing, waiting for you to arrive at the apartment, “Ch-Chris...what are you doing here?”

His jaw twitched and he crossed his arms over his chest as his stance widened.  It felt like he was taking up most of the room in the hall, his body blocking the entrance to Sebastian’s apartment, “I got done filming (Y/n)...”

“Oh...”

“Found your little note that you left on the dresser,” he scoffed angrily, “how could you just leave when I was at work?  How did you think it was okay to just pick up and leave...with my children.”

You could hear the anger in his tone.  You took a step back, the stroller moving back a beat as Sebastian stepped between the two of you, “Look...I’m okay with the two of you talking, but you’re going to do it inside, not create a scene, and be respectful to her, Chris.  She’s the mother of your children.”

His jaw twitched once more, and he glared at you. 

“Chris!”

You felt your throat go dry as the two of you stared at one another in some sort of Mexican standoff.  But after a pregnant pause, Chris stepped aside, holding his hands up in defense, “open the door...”

Sebastian looked back to you, “you okay with this?”

“Yeah,” you said after another second, “You’re right...he-he is the twin’s father...we should talk.”

He nodded once more and turned towards the apartment.  Pulling the keys from his pocket he unlocked the door and gestured for Chris to walk in. 

He did so, but not before giving you another look.  You took short, quick steps, reaching the door a moment after he went through it.  Sebastian put a hand on your arm, “hey...I see what’s going on in your eyes...he’s not going to do anything to take the children away from you.  He signed that contract too!  Remember that.”

You nodded, biting back your worry as you pushed through the door.  The stroller stopped in the living room, and you kissed both of the twins before you felt Sebastian’s hand on your lower back.  You turned and he handed you the two bags of groceries, “want to put these away and start a pot of coffee?  I’ll get the twins out of the stroller and set them up for tummy time.”

You gave a nervous nod and traded off the bags for the babies, making your way behind the island as he started unbuckling the twins, “(Y/N) is going to make some coffee.”

“I don’t want coffee,” Chris growled as he shot you another look.  You turned on the coffee maker before turning your attention to the groceries, “I came here to talk about my kids.”

“And we can do that,” Sebastian said softly as he pulled Johnny from the stroller and set him down on the play mat and pillow that propped him up for tummy time, “but we’re going to calm down...both of you.”

“How the fuck do you expect me to be any calmer, Stan?” Chris asked, “she ran away with my kids while I was off filming?  How the hell would you feel if it was your kids?  FUCK!  You fucking helped her do it!  We’re supposed to be friends!”

“Well, I can tell where your priorities are already,” he said quickly, shooting him a look as he retrieved Shayla and set her down beside Johnny before turning on an educational show he’d recorded on his DVR for them, “you’ve already been in their presence for five or ten minutes and still haven’t acknowledged them and instead chose to curse about my decisions in helping your ex.”

“Don’t tell me where my priorities are Sebastian!” he hissed. 

“Well, they’re happy and healthy...in case you were wondering,” he said with a shrug, “They just had a checkup and some shots for vaccinations last week...again, in case you were wondering.”

Chris looked down at the twins for a second and you frowned. 

You could see the regret in his eyes as he looked at them. 

You knew that deep down he did love the twins.  He just wasn’t the best at showing it.

“They’re smart...and sweet...they love all of Sebastian’s co-stars on Gossip Girl...”

���I shouldn’t have to have found out that you were leaving through a note,” he grumbled, shooting you another look, “you shouldn’t have left.”

“Sebastian offered me a job,” you admitted as you poured three cups of coffee, “He saw that I was alone with the twins...he saw that I needed away from the house...and you told me to leave anyways...”

“I told you to think about it.”

“After you realized that I have primary custody of the children.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” he asked, taking a few steps towards you, his voice raising ever so slightly, “why are you doing this to us?”

“Chris-”

“No, (Y/N) we-” He stopped speaking when Shayla immediately started crying.  Turning around, he sighed, stalking towards her, “Shit...”

“I got her!” Sebastian said slowly, also making his way towards the babies.

“Back off, Sebastian...she’s my daughter!” he growled, “I think I can calm down my own child!”

Sebastian took a step back, holding his hands up, “Okay.”

Chris stopped just short of the mat and bent over, picking up the crying infant in a quick swoop.  Immediately she started screaming, her head wobbling around as she searched for something familiar.  Your heart raced as you knew who she was searching for, as she made grabby hands in his direction when she spotted him just a few feet away. 

Between sobs and screams, she was babbling, and you knew she was trying to call for Sebastian.

“Chris-”

“I GOT HER!” he growled firmly, his voice raising even more.  His timber scared Shayla, and she began screaming bloody murder as she continuously reached for Sebastian.  He looked at you, and you raced around the island, snatching her from Chris’ hands before he knew what you were doing. 

Shayla stopped screaming when she noticed you were holding her, but she was inconsolable as she continued to reach for Sebastian.  You could see the fear in your son’s eyes as he saw his sister crying, and you bent over to scoop him up as well.

“Want me to take her?” Sebastian offered.

“Please...” you begged, walking back over to him. 

“Come here princess!” he cooed, reaching out for her.  The infant leaned out, and he caught her in his arms, immediately holding her against himself, shushing and cooing her.  She nuzzled herself into his neck, and her sobs turned into quiet whimpers as he rocked her.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he growled, “she won’t shut the hell up for me, her actual father, but she’ll calm down the second she’s in his arms?  Were you fucking him, (Y/N?)  Is he the twins real father?

“Chris-”

“She wants him...fucking him!” he growled.

“Because he’s been there for them!  Not you!  She doesn’t fucking know you, Chris!” you growled back in response, finally snapping at him, “the first month of her life she barely knew what was going on, but after your parents and siblings left after that first week, you became disengaged.  You never picked them up.  You never held them or chased away their fears.   You just bought gifts and told me to hire a nanny before disappearing.  Sebastian helps.  He changes their diapers.  He bathes them.  He engages them.  Rocks them to sleep.  Feeds and loves them.  Of course Shayla and Johnny are attached to him!”

“Are you fucking him?”

Your throat went dry once more as you looked at him, “excuse me?”

“You heard what I said,” he said in a low tone, “are you fucking him?”

“No, you asshole.  I’m not fucking Sebastian...”

“This is a one bedroom,” he said firmly, eyes darting down the hall, “where do you sleep?  Where do the kids sleep?”

“I sleep on the couch!” Sebastian said honestly, “it’s not what you’re thinking, C-”

“I didn’t fucking ask you, Stan!”

“I sleep in his bed...the kids sleep in his bed.  With ME!” you hissed, “Sebastian sleeps on the couch!  For Christ’s sakes, the pillows and blankets are folded up behind you!  Anything else you want to know?”

His jaw twitched and he walked over to the island in silence.  His hands cupped the mug of coffee that you’d poured for him, but he didn’t lift it to his lips.

“So, this is it,” he asked, “just going to move in with some guy?  Run off with my kids?”

“Sebastian isn’t some guy, Chris...”

“Do you love him?”

“Chris...”

He whipped around, his hand launching the coffee cup against the wall.  The ceramic shattered and the coffee went everywhere.  Both of the twins started screaming and crying over the loud noise, “BE FUCKING HONEST WITH ME, (Y/N)!”

“Chris...I’m going to say this once,” Sebastian said in a low, warning tone, “leave my apartment...right now.  Or I’m calling the cops...You and I both know that the last thing you need right now is the cops being called on you.  Think about it.  The press…do you really want to start this kind of PR over a temper tantrum you’re having?”

“You’re un-fucking-believable,” he scoffed, running his hand over his mouth while the two of you tried to soothe the twins, “fucking Sebastian Stan...take my girlfriend...my kids-”

“He didn’t do anything but help me get out of a bad situation,” you hissed, “we aren’t together.  He’s just there for me.  He’s there for the kids!  You aren’t!”

“I was trying to provide for you.  For them.  FOR US!”

“Chris...you’re scaring your kids...do the right thing.  Just go!”

“I’m going!” he said firmly, cutting Sebastian off.  He started walking towards the door, shaking his head.  He sniffled and turned towards you as his hand reached for the door.  Part of your heart ached as you saw the tears in his eyes, “I hope you’re happy, (Y/N).”

“Chris-”

“You’re a fucking leech!  You’re taking my family out from under me because I got her first…and that’s fucking low,” he growled, cutting Sebastian off as he gave him a final look, “you’re a no-name, no talent leech and you’ll always stay that way…some fucking soap opera wannabe…go to hell, Sebastian.”  

Chapter 6

[pinktwingirl]

Hi. I'm not sure if you are familiar with testimonies on the Israeli side about the massacre on 7.10, but I'd like to share some with you:

There was a woman who went missing, her family did not know what had happened to her until the found a video of her being gang raped by 5-6 men while she begged them to stop. They parroted and mimicked her pleas while raping here, then shot her in the head 15 times and urinated on her body.

There were bodies of little girls found with their pelvises crushed.

There was an 8 year old girl found still alive with her arm being chopped off from the elbow. She did not survive.

someone who managed to hide reported they saw a woman being bent down while bleeding. The terrorist who raped her pulled her hair and then proceeded to shoot her in the head while still raping her. Him and other people then just disfigured her body horribly. Cutting off her breasts and playing with them

There were dead women found naked and tied, or naked and burnet, or even naked from the waist down, with signs of forced entry.

There were bodies burnet to a crisp, with forensic evidence proving they were burnt alive. There was one mass that was so mangled doctors could not identify it. After putting it into a ct scanner they realized it was a mother holding her child to her chest

There were bodies found with parts chopped off. In one especially gruesome scene, volunteers found a family dead and tied in their home, kids in one side and parents on the other. They were facing each other. Both had missing fingers and one had an eye gouged out. Now we don’t know for sure if they removed limbs before or after they died (imagine the situation) but them facing one another in such a matter might indicate they were tortured alive before being murdered.

The saddest part is that is not all and I can go on and on.

Some people in the west say it's propaganda, I find that infuriating. There are video evidence for some of it, and forensic evidence as well. I especially find it horrific that some people who say to believe the victim all of the sudden discredit any testimony of rape when it's an Israeli woman or girl. I am Israeli, and unfortunately I know some of these stories personally.

I wanted to share my thoughts with you. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a peaceful day 🙏🏻

So I want to make something very clear: I do not and have never condoned the killing and assault of civilians. Some people seem to have this idea that every Israeli citizen is a violent settler committing colonial terrorism like in the videos that they've seen from the West Bank, and that's not true. The people who were killed on October 7th were not settlers; they were normal civilians. One of the hostages that was released was an Israeli peace activist who took people in Gaza to hospitals to get medical care they needed. There are good people in Israel just as much as there are good people in Gaza. And while it is true that the IDF has made false claims about what Hamas has done, I also don't think it's fair to accuse every Israeli of lying about their crimes either. Even though I will always maintain that the Israeli government has committed infinitely more atrocities than Hamas, war crimes are still war crimes and people who commit them should be tried and condemned for them regardless of which side they are on. The message that I am trying to get across to Israeli citizens (and to their credit, the majority of them already seem to recognize this) is that your government is not interested in protecting you, and the violence is not going to be solved by bombing Gaza into oblivion. Apartheid states are not, and never have been a sustainable system. Violence is inherently necessary to maintain them, and that violence is only going to beget more violence. I don't want more people to be killed. I want people with empathy to be given the ability to make things right instead of keeping violent right-wing politicians who only want genocide and ethnic cleansing in power.

I find it extremely frustrating that so many people are viewing this issue through a simple "us vs. them" lens and assuming that anyone who criticizes Israel must be a Hamas supporter who wants all Israelis to die. Analyzing where violence comes from is not the same thing as justifying it, and if people can't look at this situation with any kind of nuance, then none of this is ever going to get better.

I'm so sorry that people you know have been hurt or killed. That is not what I want and I don't want people to think that's what I'm advocating for. Hope you're doing ok and staying safe.

[liminalpsych-in-teyvat]

A discarded weapon

(This just popped into my head yesterday morning and had to be written down because it was intense/vivid. Sharing because who knows if/when I’ll ever write the full story. It’s not for my current WIP, it's for an older plot-bunny, and I blame all the conversations about Childe [who I didn't realize sees himself as a weapon until a couple days ago when I read an excerpt from the Labyrinth Warriors event]. I don’t have Childe’s voice right yet, I don’t have a strong internalized feel for him yet, because I’ve only relatively recently been sucked into Childe brain rot by all of you Tartaglia fans and your fan works. Rude.)

"It was his previous master that–"

"Don't you dare." Childe's flat stare bored into Zhongli's with uncharacteristic fervor. "You're going to tell me that his contract with you was all peace and almond tofu?"

Zhongli sucked in a sharp breath. "He signed his contract willingly. I gave him a choice that his prior master did not."

"How thoughtful of you. Did you give him a choice when you ended his contract?"

"The contract was for the extent of my reign as the Geo Archon. That has ended, as it needed to."

Childe folded his arms, defensive and aggressive all at once. "So you didn't leave a will to say what was to be done with your weapons after your… departure."

"I'd hoped that Xiao would be free to live his own life, released from his contract with me."

"Self-deception is unlike you, Zhongli-xiansheng." He spat out the honorific like so much poison. "Do you know what would happen if the Tsaritsa threw me out?"

"I did not throw–"

"Answer the question."

Those golden eyes flashed with barely-suppressed Geo energy, and Zhongli's lips pressed into a tight line of self-control. "I should hope you'd come to me."

"If you were Morax, god of war and contracts? Sure. Your archon war days? Absolutely." Childe's bared-teeth expression was a parody of a grin, sharp and savage enough to rend flesh. "But the refined Zhongli-xiansheng?" A scoff. "What use does a funeral consultant have for a weapon?"

The former archon's mouth softened into something closer to sorrow. "Ajax," and concern weighed his voice with velvet depth, "you are more than a weapon."

A laugh, breaking at the edges into cutting shards. "What's so bad about being a weapon? I was born to fight. That is my entire being, and that is not something to be pitied." He shook his head. "All those who stalk the battlefield yearn for meaning and purpose. If the Tsaritsa discarded me like you've discarded the Vigilant Yaksha, I'd seek someone worthy of wielding me. Someone who would wield me and give me that purpose, not someone who's retired and at peace. I'm not a wall ornament, and neither is Xiao. A weapon needs a wielder."

"Ajax…"

"And if I couldn't find a suitable hand to wield me, I'd get Dottore to toss me back into the abyss. I'd beg the bastard, if I had to."

"You'd seek death." Zhongli's voice was bedrock-deep, shale-flat.

A frustrated snarl. "I'd seek battle. Until someone chose to wield me to a greater end, or until something killed me."

Zhongli studied him with solemn regard. His gaze deepened, darkened; Childe thought he glimpsed the draconic, the Morax that once was. And then the moment passed, and all that remained was world-weary resignation.

(It made Childe want to stab something.)

"You think Xiao will do the same," the retired archon said, soft and sad.

Something about his tone leeched the fury from the Harbinger; he sighed out the dregs of it. "I think he already is."

This scene brought to you by: this quote from Labyrinth Warriors

Childe: Discarded or not, what's so bad about being a weapon? All those who stalk the battlefield yearn for meaning and value.

Childe: It's not victory I seek, but improvement. I want to become as sharp as a blade, to the point where others fear me. You're not the only weapon here, Shiki Taishou.

Shiki Taishou: If that's true… then these battles you strive for… where do they end?

Childe: Only those that wish for an end will find one. For me, it's nothing more than a mirage. I was born to fight, and as long as I draw breath, there will be no end to my purpose. Let go of your confusion. Sorrow and hesitation are the enemy of an implacable weapon.

and this plot seed from my fic ideas file:

Xiao/Aether exploring Xiao's need to be owned/wielded/fear of having his own agency or making his own choices. The bindings of contracts and duty that he entered into with Morax that kept him intact even as his duties poisoned him. The mess he's become in the aftermath of Zhongli's retirement.

Zhongli didn't foresee this, thinks he's doing what's best for Xiao or it didn't even occur to him that Xiao would be undone by his strings being cut.

Or Zhongli did foresee this / did notice it, and isn't sure how to fix it or handle it. He's watching Xiao slip further and further and nothing he's tried has worked. Calls in Aether. Transfer of contract/"ownership"? (Insert kink aspects here.)

Bonus Zhongli/Childe, either past or current? Childe being another barely-held-together soul in need of grounding and containment (which of course Geo is great for).

hey @blood-orange-juice - relevant to earlier conversation. I forgot that I literally wrote some Childe angst yesterday. Kinda. I do not have his voice/characterization clear yet though so—

[layla4567]

A lullaby, a lotus flower and a cardinal

Summary: After spending days in Talokan you learned to live there

Warning: This is my first time doing this so sorry if you don't like it (also my first time on Tumblr lol). Everything written in Maya was taken from internet translators so I'm sorry if it's not accurate, I'm just doing this for fun, don't expect me to continue writing this type of story since I'm not a writer and once again sorry for my English since it's not my first language

It had already been a few days since Namor brought you to Talokan. At first everything was crying and pain, he had brought you by force just because by chance you had found out about his civilization and you had seen his soldiers in action. Namor or K'u'uk'ul Kaan as his people called him, was afraid that you are going to tell the world that there is a nation with blue beings and that they possess enormous amounts of vibranium, so he did not think twice and with a look that could cut steel he dove with you grabbing your waist tightly into the ocean with the speed of a bullet

You still remember when you first entered that cavern under the water that was illuminated by some cenotes the color of the sky that clung to the ceiling, everything had an ethereal and magical vibe but at that moment you were too terrified to realize that

You had woken up in a white hammock confused and scared when a beautiful woman with blue skin and an orange dress entered the cave and handed you a beautiful white dress adorned with pieces of mother-of-pearl and jade neatly folded. He bowed to you and left. You put on the dress hastily, it was cottony soft and ankle-length and crossed in the front to tie at the neck. When you finished admiring the dressmaking you were wearing, the woman returned to indicate with a wave of her hand that you should follow her.

When you got out, you realized that the cenotes were even brighter than you could see before, it was as if thousands of fireflies had agreed to shine much brighter than yesterday that day, no, it was even prettier than that. The girl took you to the king, he was inside a kind of hut made of rock like everything else there. The first thing that caught your eye was a large mural of a golden feathered serpent squirming with its mouth open as if it were about to attack you, despite that you found it quite beautiful. Namor, noticing your presence, looked up from the parchment he was writing and left the white feather on the side of the table. He approached me and asked me to take a seat. Despite the terror that you experienced before the first time you saw him, this time he looked quite peaceful and spoke with a great calm that I didn't know if I should relax you or worry more, he talked to you about his town and how the Spanish colonizers attacked them and They forced them to flee their home. You paid attention to each of his words, he had a warm voice like a storyteller, but when he got to the part where you had to stay in Talokan and not come back to the surface your mind went blank and a sweat Cold ran through your body. You begged him with tears in your eyes to let you go if you promised not to tell anyone but he stuck to his decision and left you alone so he could process the information.

Now in the present you had gotten quite used to underwater life, every day the Talokanine women brought you different dresses, some white and others with more vivid colors such as green, blue or yellow but those were only for special occasions such as ceremonies or anniversaries King. Talokan was truly a dream place, each corner (which you were able to explore thanks to special diving suits) was more beautiful than the last. You learned a lot during your stay but you still didn't know how to speak Maya, which frustrated you because you had to communicate through gestures and signs to be able to make yourself understood. But the one who helped you the most was Namor, he was in charge of translating everything for you every time he was around, their relationship was prospering and there was no longer that mutual hatred that there once was. Just now he was outside your cave talking to some Talokanine children and you had your shoulder leaning against the cave wall with your arms crossed looking amused at Namor and the children

You had no idea what he was telling those children but it seemed like a story or something. The most fascinating thing is that despite speaking Mayan he gestured each of his words with such love and passion that you could almost guess what he was saying. He would point to the sky and then the earth, sometimes raising his voice a little and other times turning it into a soft whisper almost a sigh as if he wanted to tuck a baby in. You really understood the affection that Namor felt for his people, he was so kind to the adults and so loving and patient with the children.

"Le betike', le ken despunta le alba, le chan ch'íich'o' cardenal ku posa yóok'ol le ki'ichpam lool loto ka ma' a k'aay ki'ichkelem melodías yaakunaj" (Therefore, when dawn breaks, the little cardinal bird perches on the beautiful lotus flower and does not stop singing beautiful love melodies.)

The children clapped happily cheering and repeating a phrase over and over again that you couldn't understand but you assumed they wanted me to tell them another story. you looked at them tenderly

"Bejla'e' ma' in mejen paalalo'ob, ba'ale' ti' leti'ob prometo u uláak' dia wa. Bejla'e' ka'a xi'iko'ob yéetel u na'tsil ku" (Not now my little children, but I promise you that another day yes. Now go to your moms)

The children nodded happily and walked away as Namor approached you with a smile on his face.

"Have you been standing there for a long time, princess?"

He always called you princess even though you weren't one.

"Kind of-you laughed-Unfortunately I missed the beginning of the story. May I know what you were telling them?"

"It is a Mayan legend called "The lotus flower" it is very popular among the young people of Talokan, if you want I can summarize it for you while we take a walk. Is that okay with you?"

"I'd love to"

Namor led you to a path that bordered the rock houses, it was wide and on the sides grew white and pink flowers with a crimson stem inside.

"They say that a long, long time ago, in the Mayab jungle, there was a very beautiful kingdom, with a prince named Chacdziedzib. Its name meant "cardinal bird". The young man was deeply in love with the daughter of the guardian of the sacred Cenote, a beautiful young woman named Nicté-Há, which meant "Lotus Flower". Others did not look favorably on this union between a nobleman and a woman of such a condition... Even the great Sacred Cenote decided that the prince should marry the daughter of some king, not the humble Nicté-Há. And to avoid this union, he summoned the great nobles of the place. Together they decide that the girl must die to end that "absurd" love"- His voice was so calm and mesmerizing just like when you heard him talk to the Talokanine children.

"But one of the prince's servants had heard everything, and he went to tell Chacdziedzib, who decided to send the best of his warriors in search of the young woman. His intention was to take her to the palace and immediately marry her. But the warrior was killed and never reached the young woman's house. Again the prince's servant found out about that misfortune and reported it to his master, who decided to go for his beloved himself. When he arrived at his home, he found her next to the Sacred Cenote, and when he hugged her, an arrow that came from the darkness stuck in his chest, causing his death immediately"

You held your breath

"The young woman fell into the water of the Cenote and the prince, dead in pain, dropped heartbroken to the same place where his beloved was, leaving a pool of blood as a wake. But the gods, who had seen everything, sent the Lord of the waters and the Lord of the birds to help them. The Lord of the waters reached the depths and found the one of Nicté-Há. He transformed it into a beautiful lotus flower. And the Lord of the birds found the body of the prince, and transformed Chacdziedzib into a cardinal bird. Therefore, when dawn breaks, the little cardinal bird perches on the beautiful lotus flower and does not stop singing beautiful love melodies"- Namor finished while without realizing it we had reached the entrance of his cave

"It is an exciting but beautiful story at the same time, luckily it has a happy ending"- you said smiling

"It is a legend that teaches us that love is the most powerful thing that exists on earth, because it is incapable of breaking"- he said and it seemed to you that his eyes shone in a special way at that moment

They stayed like that in silence for a few moments until Namor asked

"Do you want to know how to say story in Mayan?"

you nodded your head eagerly

"jajal t'aana'"- he said slow so you could understand

You tried to repeat it but you failed miserably while Namor laughed in amusement, in that instant you had discovered the sweetest sound. His laugh

"Not like that, look at my lips"- He pointed to his mouth while repeating the sentence slowly.

you approached him and while you watched his mouth attentively you repeated the phrase

"Much better!- he said happy- But you have to improve your pronunciation"

and then he delicately placed his hand on your cheeks in a soft and delicate grip. You looked at him surprised

"Try putting your lips like this"- he squeezed your cheeks a bit making you look like a fish and that tickled you

You quickly pulled his hand away bursting out laughing as he just looked at you smiling

"Stop it! You're just trying to make fun of me"

"It could be"- he said laughing too since your laugh was contagious

and again there was that silence between you, but it was not an uncomfortable silence at all, it was rather pleasant until he broke it again saying

"I think it's a little late, you should go back to your cave, come I'll accompany you there"

and we went retracing our path looking at each other from the corner of our eyes until we reached my house

It was already night but you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned on your stone bed but you couldn't get back to the dream world, and it wasn't exactly the bed's fault, in fact it was quite comfortable because it was covered in soft and comfortable fabrics that made it seem like you were sleeping on a cloud. But something was keeping you awake that night and you didn't know what it was so you decided to get out of your cave and take a little walk. You walked again along that path that Namor had shown you that same afternoon. The plants that adorned the path were so exotic that you were sure you had not seen them before on the surface, you accidentally arrived at Namor's house and noticed that it was not totally dark

His house was bigger than yours and very spacious, you could notice that he was sitting on a chair with a bird feather in his right hand while his other hand was resting on his cheeks. Seeing that he was not sleeping, you decided to get closer carefully.

"Excuse me Namor, may I come in?"

he jumped a bit because he didn't expect to see me up late at night

"Princess what are you doing awake? you must go back to bed"

"I'm sorry I know but I can't fall asleep"

he invited you to sit on his bed while he finished writing

"Well to be fair I should be sleeping too but I needed to finish this"

"What are you writing exactly?"

"My memories, it's tedious but it's something every king should do"

Namor rolled up the scroll and sat next to me.

"Now tell me why you couldn't sleep"

"I don't know, sometimes thoughts hit my head and don't let me sleep"

"What kind of thoughts?"- he said thoughtfully

"Well more than thoughts, they are memories, such as afternoons walking on the beach with my friends or when my dad cooked my favorite food."- you said with a blank look to the front and then turn your head and look at Namor

"I miss my loved ones Namor"- and you felt how your voice was faltering

Namor placed a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry things ended this way"- he sighed

you returned to fix your gaze at some point in front of you for a few moments until a shy smile appeared on your lips

"You know? I remember my mother used to sing me a nice lullaby when I couldn't sleep, maybe I could sing it to you if you want and maybe that way I can sleep. It would be a way of thanking you for giving me a bit of your world in that legend you told me about. Now let me give you something from my world"

"It would be a great pleasure to listen to you"

You smiled and began to sing while Namor made himself more comfortable so that he could listen to you carefully.

'Fool who does not understand The history tells what a gypsy female He conjured the moon until dawn crying asked When the day comes marry a calé

"You will have your man, brown skin" From the sky spoke the full moon "But in exchange I want the son first that you beget him That who his son immolates to not be alone Little would I love him"

moon you want to be a mother And you can't find want that makes you a woman tell me, silver moon What do you intend to do with a skin child? Child of the moon

From father Cinnamon a child was born White as a stoat's back With gray eyes instead of olive albino moon child "Damn his image, this son belongs to a payo And I didn't fall for it"

moon you want to be a mother And you can't find wanting to make you a woman tell me, silver moon What do you intend to do with a skin child? Child of the moon

Gypsy believing himself dishonored He went to his wife, knife in hand "Whose son is it? You have deceived me" And he wounded her to death Then he went to the mountain with the child in his arms And there he abandoned him

moon you want to be a mother And you can't find wanting to make you a woman tell me, silver moon What do you intend to do with a skin child? Child of the moon

And the nights that there is a full moon It will be because the child is in a good mood And if the child cries The moon will wane to make a cradle And if the child cries The moon will wane to make a cradle'

Your voice was angelic and it felt like a caress to the soul. Delighted Namor fell asleep and you also lay down tired next to him

A few hours later, when dawn was about to arrive, Namor woke up and seeing you asleep next to him, he could not help but smile and delicately, as if you were a fragile glass cup that could break at any moment, he lifted you up and carried you in his arms to your cave. He deposited you in your bed and left you a tender kiss on your forehead. When it was completely daylight you woke up surprised to be in your room and not in Namor's, wondering what happened but remembering the beautiful moment you lived the day before with a smile from ear to ear.

[pocketdemonbendy]

Snip of chapter 3

Donnie waited to see if Mikey would actually follow and to his surprise Mikey fell through faceplanting next to him. "Someone didn't listen." Donnie scoffed going to the nearest crystal ball to search for anything on LionTurtles. A list of three books appeared in the glass each with the same location. He made a mental note in song from then turned to tell Mikey but his brother had vanished. He looked around but the small box turtle was nowhere to be seen. At first Donnie was slightly concerned however then he realized this was a blessing in disguise. He mumbled the song as made his way to the bookcase.

"Room 18, take corridor D, up the stairs past the Tengu History, Moving staircase after staircase all they way to the wall, up you go, do not slow, till you hit the crystal ball."

He locates the books easily carrying them back down the staircase when a sign catches his eye. "Botany? Oh yes!" He quietly celebrated. He hurried over placing the books he already had down on a nearby table. He could hardly contain his excitement swaying his hips and leaning into a spin. He trailed his finger along the old spines of the books on the shelves until another finger clashed with his. "Hiss" he said turning on the other figure. If it weren't for Tonie's distinguishing eyes, Donnie probably wouldn't have recognized him in his gear. black Fingerless gloves that ran all the way up his arms and onto his shoulders, matching knee high socks and long shorts like each peace of clothing was designed to cover the markings on his body. Looking past his shoulders Donnie could see the handle of a long thin sword held in place by a black sash holster. To top it all off Tonie was wearing a seafoam green bandana much like Donnie's but with longer tails, the bandana obscured his markings. "Antonio? What are you doing here?" He asked his finger not moving from the book they had both landed on.

Tonie looked to their hands, seeing that Donnie's was resting just at the tip of his fingers. "My Phosphorescent Prickly Pear is looking less than alive." He explained casting a slight glare in Donnie's direction. "Came to do some research to liven it up."

Donnie eyed the book they were stuck on reading the label. Phosphorescent Plant Life. "Last time I checked Prickly Pears are of the Cactaceae Family."

"If your refiring to the ones on the surface in the deserts then your probably right." He let out a puff. "You gonna move your finger?"

"On the contrary," Donnie raised a challenging brow. "I intend to read that book."

Tonie's lip quirked up into a sly smile. It wasn't until Donnie felt the pick of something sharp slicing into his skin that he realized why. Donnie pulled back clutching his cut hand. He had forgotten Tonie had retractable claws. "That was a low move." He pouted. "since when do you wear a bandana?"

Story can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43693807/chapters/109890616#workskin

archive of our own

WIP by otterlynx

[thecheckeredchaser]

A Summer Job

Ch 7

(Chapter 8 of 11)

Double Stuffed

Jason sat on his bed, planning his escape for the day. He didn’t like to think of his mom as a prison warden, because at the end of the day, he was staying in a nice house for free and didn’t have to pay anything but his own gas and entertainment. Not even his car insurance. Also, he was truly free to do what he wanted. She just worried if she didn’t know where he was or when he’d be home. His parents loved him. His mom just loved out loud and persistently. He could only imagine how it must have been to pick him up from his dorm for summer break to see him so filled out. This all being after Jason had already lost so much weight just years before. Jason always credited his weight loss in his teens to changing hormones and a few inches of height. But, he guessed his mom had been starting to portion their meals more ‘by the book’. He was shocked by how much a serving of Velveeta was supposed to be, when he found himself making a box for himself in the common area, curiously inspecting the box. He had pushed it for sure when he did that, which he had a few times.

But that was the part that made his mom’s nagging so annoying. She always seemed to be working against the very thing he had just begun to realize he wanted. He wanted to be bigger. Wanted to stuff himself. And he’d love to do so without his mom playing any role in his pursuits. She meant well, but constantly commenting on how big he got, only encouraged him, and it was too weird for him. He hoped she would really back off, like she said she would.

He got dressed, still making sure he didn’t look particularly expansive, to limit the temptation for her to break her promise. He was preparing to spend the day at Rita’s apartment, finishing with dinner at her mom’s. He was looking forward to that. He looked in the mirror and thought he looked pretty good. His button up shirt fit comfortably and was generally concealing any of his lumps. He made his way down the stairs and found his father in the kitchen pouring his late morning coffee. They greeted each other and Jason turned down his dad’s offer of a cup.

“You heading somewhere?” he questioned.

“I’m gonna spend the day with Rita,” Jason said confidently, knowing his dad had nothing but praise for his one and only son who was able to court a gorgeous and funny young woman.

“Well you should enjoy yourself. Mom made some banana bread. Wanted me to tell you to bring half for Rita and her mother. It’s on the counter.” He nodded to a tupperware container clearly set out. Jason grabbed it, giving his mom props for the gesture. He couldn’t help but think it was another peace offering. Jason cut a slice from the loaf under the glass cake cover, figuring he wouldn’t take from Rita’s half, obviously. And maybe he wanted her to have as much as she could get. He glanced over his shoulder, to see how closely his dad was watching him, not sure how modest he had to be with his piece. He went with a pretty thick slice, feeling particularly greedy. Seeing Rita inspired such feelings in him. He grabbed a paper towel to cradle his slice, and made his seamless exit, saluting his dad on his way out.

Jason walked up to Rita’s door and pushed it open, feeling a little tingly at how comfortable it was to do so. Rita grinned at him from the couch, looking cute in her shorts and tank top combo, his eyes locking on the little peek at her belly poking through the cotton high waisted shorts. He licked his lips. “My Jacey is here,” she cheered. He went to give her a quick hug from her place on the couch, but she immediately started pulling him onto her. He had felt quite worried he’d crush her to death, but she was insisting on him pressing his weight onto her. He took her cheesing smile to be a sign that she was enjoying the feeling.

“I know it has to hurt a little,” he said, lifting himself up on his feet. She pouted, making him chuckle. “I know I keep saying it, but you surprise me more and more every day. Never had someone into me. Desire tailored to me, even. It’s crazy.”

“I just can’t believe you were so easy. There are so many shy big guys that are just too scared to date a girl like me.”

“You certainly have to be open minded. You thought your belly button getting deeper could be a deal breaker? Try a deal maker,” he joked.

“I do have an affinity for belly buttons, especially deep ones.” Jason instinctively reached for his stomach, feeling the indentation through his shirt, feeling a little more interested in the sensation than he had planned. “Oh I wanted to ask you if you had checked our page?” she interrupted his investigation. “Our post-live upload is doing crazy good. Hella likes and comments. And our Patreon,” she raised her eyebrows at him wildly. They ended up setting one up just for the fact that people were demanding ways to support his gaining. The investment of strangers in his growing gut was an unexpected perk of dating Rita.

“How much?” he asked, curiously. He didn’t know what it could be. He knew people would give 1-10 dollars here and there, but he wasn’t really counting.

“Currently 700 has been donated. And most of that was after the live. I can’t believe people want to feed you that bad.” she nudged him. “Kidding, I know exactly how. I feel it everytime I look at you.” She looked at the container he set on the counter and the napkin he had cradled in his large hand. “What’s all this?” He explained and showed her the piece he had started munching on on his way over to her house.

“You might be greedy if,” she said, smiling wryly. Jason shrugged, taking it as a complement. He offered her some and she accepted a bite or two.

“I have certainly been living greedy these past few weeks. I wonder why?” He pulled her over, tustling her, and quickly settling into a cradling hug at her waist. He liked how she pushed into his belly,causing it to conform to her gorgeous shape. His hands clasped across her pudge and he flexed his wrists momentarily as an excuse to press his fingertips into her. He held her there for a few moments, but her hands broke his grasp and she rotated her body and faced him. He looked at her interested.

“I just want better access to your belly.” Jason loved how her fingertips were always reaching out to him. The subtle brushes on his protruding gut at work were enough to get him hot. He played around too. Jason would stick out a purposeful finger in passing on her ass all day, and he knew she liked that. Conveniently, so did Jason. He rubbed his thumb over her soft and thick hip as she broke pieces of the bread into his mouth. He was relieved it tasted great, as he’d be throwing it out if it didn’t measure up to Mrs. Garcia’s cooking. “I’d hate for my little pig to go hungry,” she said, pushing the last chunk past his lips.

He finished chewing and said, “No risk detected.” He paused, “But I mean do you have anything to eat?” Rita gave a devilish smile.

“Well, well, well,” she taunted. “I think I have some frozen pizzas. I’m great at making those.” She hopped up and whipped out two pizzas and threw them in the oven. “I assume you like stuffed crust,” she said, scoffing at the possibility she was wrong.

“I prefer it.”

“Of course,” she winked. “I hope you save room for dinner. Maribel will be showing her little tail off tonight. And you’ve had snack at her house, but dinner is a whole new ball game.”

“Snack? Also, you say all this after putting two pizzas in. I feel like I’m just hearing I’m gonna be fucking stuffed.” That guilty look was painted on her face.

“It’s possible. Unless you just control those greedy hands of yours. Easy,” she said matter of fact, returning with two cans of Coke.

“I feel like your mom would be offended.”

“Are you kidding? She’d be mortified. She would excuse herself to write her will. Now, you will be competing with my dad for her fussing,” she said, casually. Jason’s brows furrowed.

“Your dad?”

Rita jokingly sighed, “When a man and a woman love eachother very much,” she started. “I kid. But, I do have a father. I just found out he was coming back into town.” Jason didn’t really hear her talk about her dad at all, and when he hadn’t seen him around at her mom’s, he admittedly assumed he was not in the picture.

“What takes him out of town?” He would have been gone for a while, as he’d never met him.

“He’s a truck driver. All over the country type shit. He’s looking forward to meeting you. I’ve told him only good things.”

“What bad things are there to tell?” Jason asked nervously. She laughed.

“Nothing, honestly. You are pretty perfect.” She turned the show back on and stretched her legs into his lap. And despite liking her feet tucking into the ever tightening space where his belly met his lap, Jason felt nervousness creep up on him. It had seemed unbelievably easy to win over her mother. She thought he was a cute sweet boy, which was basically true. He was respectful, complimentary, and her daughter brought him to her. A golden seal. He didn’t know what to expect from the man who helped shape Rita. Maybe he was where she got her deviousness from, as though her mom was strict, at the core she was just super sweet. He thought at least.

“What’s he like?” He didn’t want to sound worried, but he was sure it showed. Almost 15 minutes had passed since they’d spoken. Rita looked at him curiously.

“You are adorable. He’s a super nice guy. Don’t worry at all. Seriously,” she assured him.

The oven timer went off for the pizza and Rita jumped up biting her lip at Jason. She chuckled as she pulled the pizza out. She knew he hadn’t even been considering her dad, which was typical in her life. He was away a lot. For weeks at a time. But when he was around it was always a good time. It was funny to think someone could be afraid of him. She brought the pizzas out on the baking sheets, setting out two trivets, one in front of each of them. She grabbed more drinks and paper towels and plates. “I believe we are set?”

“Pizza. Girl. We got everything,” he said. She put a slice on her plate and started blowing on it. She caught Jason watching her particularly hard, as he started to follow her on his own presumed pie. She only could have caught him because she was also waiting to see how hungry his first bite was. Something about it really could set the tone for the rest of forever. When he finally did, it was a large and desperate looking bite. She watched him chomp at the slice like he was racing to the stuffed crust. By the time she was reaching her crust he was simultaneously shoving the last of his into his mouth and grabbing another slice. She couldn’t help but reach out and squeeze the side of his belly. He really was thickening up and out. He smirked at her, clearly appreciating her touch.

“What a handsome little shirt you got on,” she said, tugging on his shirt.

“Not that little,” he said with a smirk, “But I hope it still looks good after this.” Rita had a feeling it might be a little more snug. Then she thought about how much more damage will be done at dinner. She was twitching between her thighs just thinking about later.

“I’m sure you’ll look scrumptious. Don’t stress that kind of thing with them. They are not the fat police. They are cool. I swear.” She could tell Jason worried about that kind of thing quite a bit. She figured if he had a mom who was always concerned about his weight by the measure of her eyeball, it was reasonable to be extra conscious. She had gotten distracted by the show and looked over to see Jason puffing through his last slice. She had only eaten half of hers, feeling full after that and choosing to stop. “You look like you are struggling.”

“Are you offering me help or criticism? Because I could really use help.” He leaned back on the couch and propped himself up with his arms.

"I guess I should help." She reached her hand under his belly and let her hands glide all over him. Jason groaned in response and powered through the slice and its crust. She could feel how tight his belly was and could tell he was uncomfortable. She worked his belly up to the top of it and patted him gently. Jason burped heavily and breathed out, shocked.

“Fuck,” he said, finished. “I am stuffed.”

“We have time to go lay down,” she offered.

“Literally, like go to sleep though. I am in no condition for anything beyond that.”

“I would never joke about a nap.” She thought for an extra second and added, “Plus you don’t need to burn any of those calories.” His eyes rolled in a flutter.

They made their way upstairs to Rita’s bed, and were successful in quickly falling into a special blend of full summer day sleeping.

Rita’s alarm went off at 6, and she informed Jason they had 15 minutes to get next door. He noted feeling much better than when he had fallen asleep. He thought he still looked good in his shirt, which was relieving to him. He hardly had time to get nervous about the dinner before they were pushing through the door.

“Hector! They’re here. Come!” Maribel, her mother called. Jason heard an ‘old guy’ grunt as he got up, and felt his pulse pick up. Through the kitchen archway to the living room walked a medium sized, somewhat stocky, yet very intimidating man. He was deeply tan and had a thick mustache. His neck tattoo, the cousin of the face tattoo, was giving him a nefarious vibe. But he was dressed in a working guy’s clothes. Wore a nice looking watch and had two earrings. Jason felt a little uneasy when he shook his hand and saw he had a scorpion tattoo, whose tail was consuming his thumb, that was wrapped around Jason’s hand. Yet, when he started talking, Jason felt himself soften. He could tell he was a very nice guy, and never for one second seemed concerned with how big he was. He quickly learned that her father was her cheerleader, and she could fall out of her chair and he would celebrate her. He seemed to be joining Rita in adoring Jason. He was feeling confident in having passed the meet and greet stage. And he was enjoying laughing along to her dad’s tale of a rest stop brawl in Arizona. He had the same snarky way of telling a story that Rita did. They had the spunk of those stereotypically charcoal- cheeked british newsboys in the movies, that Jason had always enjoyed. His only worry was that he’d show his ass at the meal, which with the rising intensity of the smells, he was sure was coming soon.

He was having a good time, but was having a lingering fear that he’d embarrass himself. In fact he already supposed he felt a little embarrassed to even be so fat, as exemplified by his worrying if people cared about it. He guessed some of the numerous little moments of fat shaming that he’d experienced over the course of his life had rubbed off on him. He might not be subscribing to the news, but he was hearing all about it. He had no delusion that outside the community where it was the focus, eating the way he wanted to around Rita was downright shameful to others. He had to moderate himself, which felt harder and harder to do. Once he got going, it was like something else took over him. Typically ignited by her touch or a look. He was going to really take it seriously, charging up all the willpower available.

Jason sat across from Hector, feeling anxious, but hoping he played it off as reasonably nervous. Her mother came out and served giant enchiladas on everyone's plates. She gave everyone two, but insisted she had another pan, even though the dish she was pulling from still had some after. She hurriedly served, insisting upon it, rice and refried beans to everyone. He could hardly hold himself back, but waited until her mother was seated. Her father cleared his throat and muttered some10 second prayer in Spanish and announced “Let’s eat!” Jason was caught a little off guard, but was glad he’d had the inclination. Some of the decor in her parent’s house was a give away. Particularly the detailed crucifix above the kitchen to the dining room arch. He found himself glancing up at the figure, wondering if he was being potentially judged for the sin he’d been engaging in and getting paid to do so at that. He almost felt comforted by the guilty tingle it gave him. He had been lost in thought and was brought back when Rita kicked him lightly under the table, her mouth opened wide to shovel a forkful of food in. Jason followed suit and had to suppress his desire to outright moan from the flavors.

“This is amazing Mrs. Garcia!” he complimented emphatically.

“I am so happy you like it. Not that I had doubts,” she said, flattering herself.

“This is just one thing I miss so much when I’m out on the road. It’s torture to have married an amazing cook, and only get to enjoy it intermittently,” Hector praised his wife. They shared a touching look.

“If only Rosalita would learn to cook. My skill was learned and isn’t something you can just grow up into Lita.” Jason raised a brow at Rita, who gave him a look daring him to make a joke. Her dad did not push back and argue that his daughter could cook, because it was pretty clear she was not interested in the task. Jason didn’t mind either way.

Rita sucked her teeth humorously, “Why would I need to learn when you cook enough for an army on the daily? Annnnd, need I say, how upset would you be if I cooked for myself and didn’t,” she paused and gasped, “need you to,” she finished laughing. Her mom gave an acknowledging but displeased stare, clearly not liking the supposed truth Rita had delivered. Her father chuckled. She continued, giggling, “And what’s worse Mom, you would also lose the opportunity to feed precious Jason.” Her mom took a sharp breath at that, making Rita scoff incredulously, but not missing the opportunity to flash Jason a sneaky grin. She knew his ears were burning at her choice in words. “Seriously? Just say you like him better. You wanted a gorgeous son.”

“Jason, you are always welcome to eat here,” she said, smirking playfully at her daughter. Jason smiled up at Hector who laughed.

“I learned early on, to not get in between two latinas’ business. Let ‘em go,” he joked, continuing to eat. Jason observed that everyone was finishing their plates, and confidently took big bites, as he had been riding the brakes to ensure he wasn’t coming off too gluttonous. Her mother offered everyone more, serving full servings for himself and her husband, Rita and herself only having an additional enchilada each. Jason could feel Rita’s eyes on him out of the corner of his own, but did not dare to look over at her, in fear she would unearth the literal pig hiding inside of him. He already felt a little full, but had to have more of everything. It was so moist and tasty and she had assured everyone there was plenty. He didn’t feel too bad about it, since her dad had also taken more. He felt he was still within the acceptable borders of ‘guys eat more’. He did wish he was in the limited company of just Rita, as he was feeling the gas in his stomach moshing around. Yet he persisted in all but scarfing down the second helping, scraping the remaining sauce off his plate. He looked up to see her dad with hands resting over his own stomach, which poked out a little more than it had.

“She really does something otherworldly in that kitchen,” he said. Jason hadn’t even noticed that she had finished and had started clattering around again in the kitchen. She came back and asked her husband if he was finished. Jason was surprised to see there was a little of everything remaining. Hector thanked his wife but expressed he was done. Jason felt himself blush, not intending to eat more than her dad. He was such a pig. He didn’t even stop to think about how stuffed he had been. It didn’t matter. He was finishing it all. He glanced up at Jesus over the doorway, feeling guilty. Her mom came over and said something to him and he was in a complete mortified haze. What was he doing?

Ch 9

[gloryride]

I'm so torn between the ' El Coyote Cojo Adventures' and 'Sarto freres conversation' *jumps back and forth not able to decide* U DECIDE? sdfgh hep me aaahh.

Hehehe choice will be easy bc i already share a snippet about El Coyote Cojo Adventures, so let's do Sarto brothers !

[WIP GAME]

For context, I have the idea that Virgile knows his brother Enzo is seeing someone, but since they've never talked about relationships (Virgile left the clan when Enzo was only 13), neither of them knows how to discuss it. At the story's beginning, Virgile is smoking outside his window when he sees his brother get out of a car, smiling, without seeing the driver.

Virgile looked down at his neck and made an amused face, "You had a good time yesterday, you have…" Without saying the word "hickey", he patted his neck, "right here." Enzo leapt to his feet, red as a tomato, and ran to the bathroom, muttering in Italian, "Don't tell me he gave me a hickey like a schoolboy! How am I going to hide this?" and disappeared into the other room. It wasn't true, of course; he had nothing, but Virgile laughed at the spontaneous reaction, especially at the fact that it could have happened. He headed into the kitchen to get two beers out of the fridge and leaned against the wall, facing the curtain separating the bathroom from the kitchen, lighting another cigarette. They'd probably need this package to start chatting like adults, even if the beginning felt like a teenage prank. "I ain't see nothin'!" he exclaimed before adding an "oh …" of surprise, realizing he'd just been fooled. Enzo left the bathroom, his gaze on the floor and his hand on the back of his neck, looking embarrassed to have been so reactive to a lie. After inhaling a puff of nicotine, Virgile held out the welcome cigarette as a sign of peace, despite a smirk on his lips. "It's a he, then?" "Why did you trap me like that? You could just ask!" In spite of a sulky look on his face, Enzo took the cigarette, a good sedative for anxious smokers like them. Big brother shrugged, uncapping beers with his lighter like any good nomad. "If I'd asked if you had anyone, you'd have said no, blushed, shook your head, and changed the subject." "Ché? Mà…" but Virgile cut him off to pursue. "Are you going to lie to me? We suck at lying, little brother." the cap popped off the bottle and fell back on the counter with a clatter." You don't have to tell me everything. But at least tell me you're happy." Enzo remained silent for a moment, then a smile lit up his face again, and his sparkling green eyes turned to his brother, "Si, I am."

[reidsnose]

tally marks

overview: the team cant help but notice reader and spencer's obvious affections towards eachother, so they start keeping track.

genre: fluff

a/n: i think this is cute can u tell i love mutual pining lmaooo but yeah this is a short one sorry anyway lmk if you guys like it :)

masterlist

-

-

everyone had their little thing that stayed on the jet. go bags come and go, hell, even agents come and go. but for their time being, everyone had a jet item that never left the plane.

for morgan it was his soundproof headphones. for hotch it was a very specific notebook. for you it was a small pillow that you adored. so on and so fourth

for spencer it was his blanket. his and only his because everyone has icky germs and a blanket lays all over someone when they sleep its a microscopic bloodbath. and he did not need any of that. he kept it on his unassigned assigned seat and would take it with him to sleep on the jets couch seat. so it really only ever touched him. it was his blanket that he never ever shared with anyone ever.

except for when he shared it with you.

one time, after a case that was particularly draining for you, he insisted you take the long seat on the jet so you could try and get some decent sleep. and you were out like a light but it looked to be a very uncomfortable slumber. your face was contorted with worry and your shoulders shook slightly every so minutes when a shiver would run down your spine. the jet was pretty cold and you looked like you could really use a comfy, warm blanket.

he pondered it for a second. did he mind your germs? no, not really. should he mind them? yes. but he doesn't. for whatever reason he would even be completely ok with you using him as your own personal blanket. he felt his cheeks heat up at the thought of being so physically close to you.

wordlessly, and selectively oblivious to the confused stares he was receiving from the team, he walked over to you and draped the blanket across your body; pulling it up to reach your neck and ensure maximum warmth. after all, humans lose 90% of their body heat through their head and neck. immediately the shivering stopped. you snuggled it closer and he couldn't help but smile watching you quickly find peace and comfort.

jj nudged Emily who cocked an eyebrow at Derek who smirked at Rossi who tapped hotch and they all took a second to watch the scene unfolding at the front of the jet. they could tell Spencer was already smitten before he even figured it out himself. they had their suspicions for a while, and morgan now owes prentiss $5, because this act of affection was confirmation enough for all of them.

Spencer felt a warmth grow in his chest, something he really only felt when he was around you. or thinking of you. or talking to you. basically, having anything to do with you. so he stifled his smile and went back to his seat, opening up his book and trying to ignore the teams eyes boring into him.

when you were shaken awake you were warm and safe and everything smelled like Spencer. and then you recognized Spencer's blanket had been draped across your body and you were holding one of the corners close to your chest. smiling at the mere thought of spencer, you looked up and were met with a smirking Derek.

"come on pretty girl, you're the last one on the jet again," he chuckled, helping you up.

"you can go without me i need to grab my things," you yawned.

he nodded and walked off leaving you alone with Spencer's blanket. you folded it neatly before placing it on Spencer's usual unassigned assigned seat.

the next time you guys were heading home on the jet you could tell Spencer was visibly very tired. a perfect coincidence set up by God himself to help you repay him for letting you use his blanket. you watched him scrunch up his cardigan countless times trying to make it a pillow comfortable enough to sleep ok but it just was not working. though, it was adorable watching his curls bounce around with each movement of his head, you wished some peace would grace his features once again.

you simply couldn't watch him struggle anymore so you walked over to him, gently lifted his head, and placed the pillow beneath it. he looked up confused but when he saw it was you and realized what you were doing he gave you a smile that made you melt.

the team once again took notice of this and started keeping a track of you guys in hotch's notebook. anytime you two did something couple adjacent, a tally mark would be made and bets were even placed on how many tallies it would take for you guys to realize your feelings. Derek told Penelope about it when they landed (because she was originally the one who had been trying to set you two up together from the moment you walked into the bullpen) and she had to be lead into another room to squeal. she was given an update on the tallies after each flight and often gave her own observations when you were all in office.

and so, they watched as you gave each other the blanket and pillow, brought one another coffee, read to each other, left work together, listened to each others none sense ramblings, hugs lingered, hands touched, smiles radiated, eyes met. they were rooting for you nerds to finally realize you were in love.

after one case, you had gotten a little bit injured. nothing major, just a cut on your hand after tackling the unsub, but it was enough to make Spencer fret. it was dangerous, and you shouldn't have been there alone. it could have ended so badly. but he couldn't even be mad at you. so you sat next together on the jet, silent and thinking, just glad to be in each other's presence. Spencer saw your eyelids drooping, looking more adorable than ever to him. he took the blanket that was bunched up next to him and draped it over the both of you.

you smiled at him, taking the pillow from behind your head and handing it to him.

"no you were using this." he whispered.

"its ok ill use your arm instead." you sighed sleepily, snuggling into his arm.

the two of you were bright red and absolutely soaring from being this close. dopey smiles were etched on both of your faces.

"how many is this?" prentiss asked, looking expectedly at hotch.

"this would be number..." he scanned the pages in his notebook, "87"

"for a couple of profilers they sure are bad at seeing the signs," Rossi chuckled.

they looked over and watched as Spencer pressed a kiss to the top of your head before resting his own on it as you snuggled closer to it.

"make that 88."

-

-

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams

[yanderecandystore]

Could you please do a fanfic for a male version of Yandere! Lady Dimitrescu (from Resident Evil Village game) with the reader.

I really like the Resident Evil franchise but I'm too lazy to know what the hell is happening in the older games XD I'm so sorry about that-

I loved watching playthroughs of Resident Evil Village (can't buy the game ;-;), but I felt like it was a bit empty, idk- I felt like the lords weren't really explored enough.

Also the Duke is the best husbando in the whole game- Fight me! >:3

TW/Tags: GN = Gender Neutral, I normally forget to properly name it when it's gender neutral, most of the time I just say "reader" // maybe ooc // lazy genderbent, I'm terrible with names // size difference // servant reader // mentions of gore/cuts/bruises/blood and deaths (and torture- I'm so sorry-) // reader gets hurt // mentions of vomiting

It's Dinner Already [Yandere!M!Dimitrescu x GN!Reader - Short Fanfiction]

It's dinner time already, unfortunately for you, of course.

It feels almost like a routine at this point- Which in a way, it is! You always take care of your tasks during the day, while dreading the inevitable time for dinner to arrive again.

Everyday, at this exact same hour, you and the other servants would prepare a meal for Lord Dimitrescu and his lovely… Sons…

As someone who has started "working" for their family only a month ago, you can positively say: Starving in the cold woods next to your village would have probably been a more merciful death than the ones you have witnessed at this place. You weren't as accustomed to such brutal executions at your village, actually you hardly even witnessed so much death, at least not so up close.

When you came here, you didn't expect to be instantly comforted and treated with respect- You were a commoner looking for an possibility to thrive in a noble's house, you were basically an easy target for any entitled selfish lord to easily belittle you and make you work for them until your hands would turn to dust. Yet nothing could have prepared you for such an odd situation.

Vampires. Monsters. Fiends if you were bold enough to insult them. You weren't exactly welcomed as much as you were snatched in and now forever trapped inside this castle. You can still hear their laughter… Their insane expressions of pure glee, the way they have bursted into maliciously laughing at your pain as you screamed for help trying to open up their door again and be free from that nightmare.

The chase didn't last even a second, they stabbed your legs with their scythes and brought you deeper inside this hellhole, as you cried your eyeballs out. The sons had brought you back inside so their father could take a look at the "intruder".

An absolute titan amongst the mortals. His height was only a sick reminder of how much power he had over the castle, over his sons, and now- Over you.

He may not have been as massive as he was threatening as you remind him to be, but at the time you were just in awe of his height considering you have never seen someone as tall and as mighty.

Then again- You have never seen vampires as well. Were they the same vampires as the books you've read as a kid? You weren't so sure of it…

You were hoping that if you begged for life and for forgiveness for having disturbed their peace, that they could spare you and let you go back to your village. Sadly enough, you commented on how you were only trying to look for a job as a servant.

You probably shouldn't have given them ideas, but it's too late to think about your mistakes now, however.

The sons begged to see your blood spilled, yet Lord Dimitrescu was merciful enough to grant you your "wish", as he said.

It has been a month ever since you were trapped inside and forced to work as a miserable little servant, and even if you didn't suffer the worst forms of punishments that they had in-store for you, you couldn't help but fantasize about just running away and never turning back.

You're so tired of this castle, of the smell of carnage, of the undeserved and over the top punishments, and especially of the people who would subjugate you to such things.

But at last, it's dinner time already, and you can't keep them waiting.

You feel your hands shaking as you walk out of the kitchen and into the dining room where the masters of the castle were so graciously waiting for you. You know what they're waiting for- But you can't let them distract you, for those that commit accidents are faced with fates worse than death.

Although you would rather do this process quickly, you can't afford mistakes to happen, so you take your time to set not only their meal in front of each one but to also pour "wine" into their glasses. You do all of this without looking directly into their eyes, only bowing down to each one and saying "excuse me"s in what they would call a "decent tone", as the smell of their disgusting beverage starts to irritate your nostrils. If you didn't know the main ingredient to Sanguis Virgins is, you probably wouldn't have this immense disgust over it, but right now just the thought of it makes you want to gag.

Only villains could so easily drink blood, and still make a living out of it.

Your internal thoughts of pure hatred against this whole situation almost completely blinded you to the fact that they were eerily, very quiet.

….

On most nights they would be talking with each other while occasionally making comments about you or your presence. Obviously they were all pretty nasty comments that they somehow expected you to back it up in some way or another, it's when they try to insert you into their conversation that makes you hate this occasion so badly, but it normally ends as quickly as it begins.

But as you are pouring wine to Lord's Dimitrescu, you notice that they haven't said a single thing while you were there. You stop what you're doing as you realize that they were silently observing you this whole time, and as you look into their expressions you come to think that maybe you have messed up-

Somehow, in some way or form, you may have messed up- And the fact this mistake could cost your head only agitates your already very worried mind.

….

A small moment of silence continues before the middle son, Cassandro, starts to chuckle in an almost innocent way- As if he was a kid who just said a bad word for the first time- And as he bursts into sudden laughter, Daniel leans towards Bello and loudly whispers:

"- I told you, they do this every time." To which Bello only replied with:

"- It's almost like hypnosis in a way."

The three sons were mesmerized by your ability to trap yourself in your own mind. They're probably aware that you do this as a defensive mechanism but they still find it comical in a weird way. You feel yourself get more tense as you look up at Lord Dimitrescu and see him staring back at you, with an unreadable expression across his face.

Before you could come up with an excuse to whatever you may have caused to disturb their dinner, the Lord himself spoke.

"- How inappropriate. As my sons, you three should know better than to laugh at our servant's airheaded mind-"

And as he said that, their smiles begin to disappear and be replaced with frowns and a bit of shame as they become stiff at their father's words.

"- And how inappropriate of you, too. To be so distracted in the presence of your masters, that's quite rude don't you think?"

But as he continued their bodies begin to relax once again as they realize he wasn't focusing on them- He was focusing on you.

Words have completely disappeared from your vocabulary as you start to think that maybe you won't be able to see another day after their meal is over. You try to mumble some possible responses before getting interrupted by him once again.

"- It's very rude, so very rude in fact that I think we deserve some answers. What were you so distracted about? What were you thinking that could have possibly taken over your small little head?"

Right now, he was sounding a bit condescending, thankfully not as angry as he would have been with the other servants right about now. Every little mistake was used as excuses for punishments- And if you were walking on thin ice before, right now you are one-step closer to breaking this entire lake and getting yourself killed by the freezing temperatures of the water below you.

Thanks to your luck (or maybe lack thereof, depending on how you see this) Daniel came to "your rescue" by coming up with an excuse for you.

"- Maybe they were hungry." He said without any indications of it being a joke or a lie- As the youngest yet craziest of the bunch, he always had that weird "naive yet dangerous" energy coming from him. He was naive enough to make that statement when it's very clear that you actually despise being near them, but he still was a son of Dimitrescu.

You know better than to underestimate any of these people.

The Lord didn't seem completely convinced as he side eyed Daniel who was blissfully eating his meal without acknowledging his dad's glance or his brother's looks of disapproval.

Without a warning you were pulled closer by your wrist and forced into sitting next to the Lord, who made a sign for another servant to bring you your food. This… Doesn't feel right at all, you're waiting for the worst to come yet you don't feel like you can ever prepare yourself enough for what they have in store.

"- M-My Lord- This isn't needed, I'm fine. I'll just continue my duties, if you can excuse me-" You plead, while trying to get up from your chair.

"- Oh but what host would I be if I didn't take better care of my guests? Poor thing, you must be starving if you can barely serve us wine-" And as his tone gets progressively more sarcastic and a bit louder, you can hear his sons snickering from the other side of the table, but you can't see them since you can't take your eyes away from him.

You're worried that if you look away for just one second, that you may not be able to see ever again.

"- It's so sad when one of our guests feels hungry- What's worse is when we are also very, very hungry."

"- Thirsty, even!"

"- Oh, I can feel my throat drying just at the thought of such misery!- Our dinner seems to be ruined."

You hear their whispers, you hear how they are clearly joking about this- How overly dramatic they're being over something so miniscule as you just- Ignoring them.

Let me remind you this is all because you refuse to look them in the eyes, that you refuse to give them any satisfaction for the heinous things they have done! You've seen so many people get hurt inside this castle only for their sick and twisted thirst and entertainment.

"- Indeed, my boys. My appetite is ruined, though dinner is not over yet-" Lord Dimitrescu spoke as he looked at his sons clearly enjoying your inevitable pain, but before he could continue he turns himself to you again, putting a hand on your arm and saying:

"- Wouldn't you agree?" Loud enough so that his sons could hear it, but soft enough to send the tiniest shivers down your spine.

"- …!"

"- No, no- Please, not again!-" He wouldn't dare do this, would he??

But before you could react he had already done it, you barely noticed how fast he had grabbed that knife to slice your wrist- His hand firmly gripping your arm as he made a deep enough cut so that your blood could be easier to access.

It somehow hurts just as badly as the first time his sons have stabbed your ankles and dragged you across the floor- At least you're not bumping into things like before, and even if it's a deep cut it's not as big as it could be if he used his claws to actually do this.

Oh, oh those claws- You almost thought he would use them on you… Those were something else. You can't remember exactly what happened, and why it happened, but you remember seeing him use those on another servant who may have crossed the line at some point.

Well "crossed the line"- More like "casually inconvenienced him". Lord Alcino may act like an incredibly high noble but he acts so childishly and in such an egotistical manner that you are surprised he can even have a castle like this in the first place! You don't remember what the servant has done to be so cruelly dismantled, but you don't doubt that it was for a stupid reason!

You miss that servant actually- Probably the only person who you actually talked with, and the first one to actually taught you how to do your job… You two could have been friends if he didn't intervene.

You briefly remember those moments before getting to experience the most weird sensation of all- Having your bloody cut be licked and sucked on. It hurts and it stings in a way that not only makes you want to cry but to also gag at the thought of you feeding this monster.

You refuse to look at him even in this scenario, you refuse to see him feeding off your blood… Sometimes you wish you were just as poisonous as some species of frogs, poisonous enough to make his mouth burn so he can experience a fraction of the pain he causes to others.

You tried fleeting away, you tried getting up and moving away but his grip on your arm only helped you in getting closer to him- You have your eyes closed as your only option is to cry and muffle your agony.

But as always, he is not satisfied with you just ignoring him. This was supposed to be a lesson, yet you're clearly avoiding your teacher as best as you can- But not today, little flower, you're not getting out of this so easily.

This is the first time he ever got to really taste your blood, as normally you would be behind the other servants while trying to learn how to please him, the only moments where he gets to see you is when it's dinner time, but oh- You're just so cruel!

Escaping inside your own little head while he has to content himself with just your image. Your presence is very much appreciated around this hour, little one-

He has noticed this before, of course, but it was only when he noticed his son's curiosity over the way you behave around them that made him organize this little trap. He didn't have everything planned actually, his plan only involved getting to this moment no matter what- And oh boy, has luck been on his side!

Your blood tastes better than expected of a commoner, your delicate and fearful whines of pain are just as delightful but what really gets him is this tough persona you try to convince everyone you have- You despise him, and it's clear to see why- But he knows his charms will probably work on you one way or the other.

He gripped your face trying to make sure you'll get to him in the eyes as he has a taste of you. Absolutely delicious, especially after you so gracefully "ruined" their dinner.

His sons were just watching as they continued to drink from their crimson glasses. They were just enjoying the show, as everything seems to easily amuse them- Their father was just showcasing how they were so much better than the common folk, and they have no other option but to take notes and to remember what they have to do if they ever feel ignored by the servants in the castle: Show who are the true masters of this place.

None of them were really interested in drinking from you, considering how all three seemed to recognize how their father has taken a liking towards you. No one would dare mess with their father's prey.

If you had enough strength in you, you would start vomiting as soon as this has started, but the more he takes from you the more you feel like you can barely stay conscious.

He wasn't supposed to take so much, at least not so soon- He wanted to just take a sip but he can't deny the fact he would rather drown himself in your blood than to let go.

He sighs, as he notices that you're slowly getting less and less aggressive, getting more and more tired as he drains you from this cut.

You're not unconscious yet, just barely stable enough to understand what's going on.

"- Sigh… Now that was a decent enough meal." He can't praise you for being tasty, can't have you being cocky around him.

"- Here, since I'm done here I'll take you to the servant's living quarters- And because I'm so kind I'll make sure that wound is safely secured and cleaned, so here- Come along now."

And as he stood up he offered you his hand so you could get up yourself, but you don't have enough energy to walk yourself to your room, thankfully you're already ready to go to bed and wish to never wake up again.

And as the nightmare never ends, he decides that if you are going to be difficult then you leave him no choice but to carry you there. How much has he taken from you?? Jesus, he should learn some self-control before doing this again- The absolute brute that he is.

Your vision may be a little screwed over because of the lack of red cells running through your body at the moment- But you have a weird feeling that you two aren't heading towards the servant's living quarters, as you feel like you two are quite literally going in the opposite direction.

Oh but it's fine- Right?

It'll be fine. Surely. After all, he already took what he wanted from you, and he doesn't seem to need more so- You probably won't have to worry about anything right now, dinner time is already over, you can finally relax now….

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

So I'm sick again- Sorry y'all, I just have a horrible immune system and I really don't understand what is wrong with me-

I'm sorry if you didn't like this boo :(