#thread: the depths of the world and everything wrong with them

[muscle-blues]

Yelan took the charm in her hands, her hands which mused over everything she could.

The charm was clearly of Liyuean make- that much was unmistakable. Yet as her hands scanned over it, scanned over the little cracks in the Cor Lapis, the little weathered signs indicative of age, Yelan’s face grew more puzzled. Clearly, she thought, this is from here. But it’s so…old? An heirloom, maybe? 

An heirloom made sense. Of course, a child would want to give an heirloom to his father as a sort of lucky charm. But his words…his words suggested he made it himself. So why…? She was confused, racking her brain trying to ascertain a reasonable conclusion for this. 

She looked back up at Dan Heng, allowing her puzzled expression to be so visible, so easy to read to the man. “I should’ve asked for this earlier, it's…really old? Cheng Jun approached you personally, so you probably know better than I but- Dan Heng, did Cheng Jun suggest that he himself made it? Where would he have gotten such…old Cor Lapis?” 

It didn’t make sense. He couldn’t have made it – what kind of child is capable of such craftsmanship? At such a young age to boot? Did the young boy have a blacksmith make it for him? But even then, a young boy with a father in the mines for a living likely doesn’t have the funds to afford such a beautiful good luck charm. So many fallacious possibilities, all cropping up within Yelan’s head. A logic problem, where anything but logic could be found as an answer. A puzzle, where all connecting patterns led to a mess of an image.

And then there was the pull.

Yelan felt herself drawn to a direction. To her left, her head turned, a turn towards a nothingness that seemed to be everything all at once. She tried to turn away, but something in her told her to walk in that direction, a pool of water that could be seen in the distance. 

“Ugh- follow me…? Something’s over there, I’m not exactly sure what but- something in me is telling me to go this way.”

The Depths of the World and Everything Wrong With Them || Dan Heng & Yelan

Commission: Chasm trouble || @muscle-blues || Commission Season: Harmony

[lifeinked]

Why I Love Caitlyn, and Why You Hate Her

⚠️ READER DISCRETION: I am not condoning Caitlyn’s actions and behavior, I am simply exploring the depth of her character and explaining what motivated her pursuit of revenge.

There’s no denying the gravity of Caitlyn’s actions as they are unquestionably wrong. However, her character cannot be reduced to these actions alone. This sudden, devastating behavior of hers is shaped by a thread of complex motivations and circumstances, but many choose not to acknowledge this simply because of her elite background. 

Like many others, I initially overlooked the point of the gassing in Zaun, which I think is a crucial thing everyone must first understand before diving into the discourse over Caitlyn's character. 

The Grey, often misunderstood as being used indiscriminately, was strategically deployed against the Chem-Barons to limit collateral damage. Caitlyn chose precision over chaos, targeting those directly responsible for Zaun’s turmoil. Furthermore, Caitlyn didn’t kill the Chem-Barons; she captured them, with net-deploying bullets. While her methods are controversial, they reflect a calculated approach; mischaracterizing her raid as a reckless attack ignores these details.

This isn’t to deny or excuse the fact that Caitlyn did, indeed, gas Zaun. Who’s to say that gas didn’t seep into the streets where innocent Zaunites roamed, harming them in the process? It’s entirely possible that innocents were affected and devastated. However, my brief explanation is only added to gain better perspective over the objectives of the gassing itself.

Now moving on, despite her privileged upbringing, Caitlyn shows a genuine effort to understand and connect with Zaunites. She places her trust in Vi, a Zaunite she’s never met before, to guide her in her search for Silco. Her journey through the undercity opens her eyes to the struggles of its people, challenging her perspective.

In S1E4, when investigating the airship attack, she encounters an undercity resident and reassures him, “I can protect you.” Later in the season, when Vi gets stabbed, Caitlyn encounters someone formerly connected to Vi. He’s grown a distaste over himself due to his appearance, and yet Caitlyn embraces him with compassion and tenderness, as a silent sign of gratitude. Then, she surrenders her cherished firearm—her only means of protection—in return for a healing potion to save Vi. In S1E7, Caitlyn’s heartfelt monologue in her conversation with Ekko perfectly captures her hope and determination: “This city needs healing. More than I ever realized. Please, let me help you.”

When Caitlyn and Vi stand in front of the Council, Caitlyn declares: “Councilors, this is Vi. She was born in the undercity. Even though we failed her in countless ways, she risked everything to show me what life is really like down there. People are starving, sick, ravaged by Shimmer. They live in constant fear of the coordinated efforts of violent crime lords.” This monologue alone shows how Caitlyn embodies optimism, believing in the inherent goodness of people, even Zaunites. It also shows that she is very willing to fight for them; she sees helping Zaunites as an act of bringing justice and equality into this world.

Many overlook the depth of Cassandra and Caitlyn’s relationship, reducing it to a simple narrative of a daughter mourning her mother. However, Caitlyn’s mourning is more layered than that. Throughout her life, she has been rebellious, driven by a desire to uncover the reality her mother tried to shield her from. In S1E4, Caitlyn reflects on this by saying, “She’d do anything to keep me from seeing the real world.” Caitlyn’s defiance wasn’t just rebellion for its own sake—it was a stand for her ideals. She sought enlightenment and understanding, even if it meant stepping outside the privileged bubble her mother built for her. By venturing into the undercity and aligning herself with Vi, Caitlyn rejected her mother's own ideals.

Here's another scene in S1E8 that emphasizes this:

Cassandra: You're a Councilor's daughter. Your actions reflect on the entire body. Caitlyn: My actions? You know what else reflects on the Council? Its citizens living on the streets. Being poisoned. Having to chose between a kingpin who wants to exploit them and a government who doesn't give a shit!

In a way, her actions mirror Vi’s: just as Vi betrayed her people by working with the enforcers, Caitlyn betrayed her own mother by involving herself with Zaunites. Remember: The last time we see Caitlyn and Cassandra interact on-screen is during Caitlyn’s plea before the Council. And in that moment, Caitlyn was fighting to protect the very kind that would soon kill her own mother.

You say that Caitlyn’s drastic shift is unjustified, as she’s only experienced a fraction of the suffering Zaunites have been enduring. But that’s precisely the point! Her transformation shows how personal loss can drive the change of one’s entire character; she’s never experienced loss before which is why it feels so heavy for her. And unlike Zaunites, Caitlyn actually has the power to act on her grief. Zaunites have only known misery their whole lives. When their loved one dies, they know there is nothing more they can do but grieve. They don’t have an inch of the privilege and military support Caitlyn has. If you had given them the same resources as Caitlyn, they wouldn’t hesitate to bring ruin to Piltover. Simply put, they don’t fight Piltovans because they don’t want to, but because they can’t.

When Jinx takes her mother away, her compassionate ideals completely shatter. Having always sought justice and understanding for Zaun, Caitlyn feels deeply betrayed, as her faith in the good within every Zaunite is overturned. Her mother’s death becomes a turning point—driving her to abandon her ideals and adopt Piltover’s disdain for the undercity, finally understanding the resentment many Piltovans harbor.

We also tend to forget that, aside from losing her mother, Caitlyn has directly suffered under the hands of Jinx. Caitlyn was held captive by Jinx in Season 1—and God knows what was done to her during that period. In the tea party scene, we see Caitlyn break down in tears, visibly flinching when Jinx moves toward her. It’s clear that Jinx has traumatized Caitlyn not just once, but twice. These experiences deeply shape Caitlyn’s actions moving forward. The pain and fear she’s endured push her to a place where she’s willing to sacrifice almost anything, even if it means putting a child’s life at risk (Isha's) or severing ties with Vi.

While they share their differences, Caitlyn and Jinx are the perfect example of foil characters. Here’s an instance which proves this: Both allow themselves to be influenced by manipulative, powerful figures all while being in a vulnerable state of mind.

Jinx is haunted by guilt; her attempt to save her family only ended up killing them, leaving her with the crushing weight of self-blame. She clings to Silco, not because he was the father she needed, but because he was the father she wanted. Silco indulged her destructive tendencies, keeping her at an all-time high on the edges of chaos. Fragile and broken, Powder crossed paths with Silco at the right moment; he saw the perfect chance to mold her into someone bewildered, unrestrained, and astray.

Caitlyn has her own Silco: Ambessa, the ruthless Noxian leader with a brutal philosophy of war. Ambessa enters Caitlyn’s life at a pivotal moment, stepping in just as Caitlyn is grappling with the devastating loss of her mother. In a spiral of self-identity, Caitlyn struggles with the weight of Piltover’s expectations and her unresolved guilt over her strained relationship with her mother (as explained in previous paragraphs). Just as young Powder mourns her family, Caitlyn blames herself for the death of her mother. Caitlyn got herself involved with the Zaunites even when she was warned not to, and at the expense of her defiance came the death of her mother. Driven by guilt and a thirst for vengeance, Caitlyn steps fully into her role, declaring in S2E1: “I am a decorated officer. Leader of House Kiramman.”

Jinx and Caitlyn share a tragic parallel: they both lose everyone they hold dear. Jinx loses Vi, Vander, Claggor, and Mylo. Caitlyn is left without Cassandra, Vi, Jayce, Mel, and Tobias. Stripped of their support systems, they are left isolated, with no one to confide in or rely on. They become vulnerable, used as pawns in the larger schemes of Silco and Ambessa’s strategic games.

Caitlyn's inner turmoil is exactly why Ambessa’s manipulation is so effective. Caitlyn is compelled to take revenge, but she doesn’t know how to. And without anyone else to guide her, she places her complete trust in Ambessa's expertise. Ambessa doesn’t just give Caitlyn the authority and power to avenge her mother; she teaches her how to use them to their full potential. She toys with Caitlyn's vulnerability, making her adopt the Noxian values of wrath, bloodshed, and ruthlessness. 

It’s easy to downplay Caitlyn’s grief since she comes from an elite upbringing. While Cassandra Kiramman is laid to rest in a golden casket with a proper burial, countless innocents in Zaun become victims of merciless violence, being left to die on the streets. After the timeskip however, Caitlyn is shown to recognize the moral cost of her actions. Though the series portrays this realization subtly, it becomes evident that Caitlyn is grappling with the inhumanity and immorality of her pursuit of revenge. In S2E4, this internal conflict comes to light during her conversation with Ambessa. When Ambessa attempts to stoke her fury again, Caitlyn disarms her with a piercing question: “Why is peace always the justification for violence?”

Here's another scene that subtly depicts her realization and remorse:

Caitlyn: You're a monster. Why? Why do all this? Singed: Why does anyone commit acts others deem unspeakable? ... For love.

When Caitlyn steps further and sees Orianna, she realizes that Singed's revenge is a reflection of her own: a person grieving the death of their family member. Here, there's a saddened glint in her eyes. She finally understands now, that love and grief made her do things that once seemed so foreign to her. In this case, going against her own principles just to succeed in her revenge.

Caitlyn is now forever haunted by the outcome of her mistakes, but she knows her past cannot be erased. During her confrontation with Jinx in the prison, she admits, “No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes.” While this statement is directed at Jinx, it feels like Caitlyn also holds this against herself for her own wrongdoings. 

Caitlyn’s acts of atonement are done quietly. She’s not good with words; she’s bad at articulating how she feels. Ironically, Vi is much better than Caitlyn when it comes to confronting and vocalizing internal conflict. So instead, Caitlyn’s actions speak for herself. By removing the guards at the prison, she tacitly allows Vi the opportunity to rescue Jinx. She knows Vi will come to save her sister, and yet she lets her. She finally lets go of Jinx and the grudge she held against her, as a silent act of her love for Vi.

And in S2E9, Sevika is shown to be sitting among the Councilors. But thanks to a fan's keen eyes, we find out that she is sat particularly on Cassandra Kiramman's chair (which not many notice). By allowing a Zaunite to occupy her mother's seat, Caitlyn gives them a chance to be rightfully represented, a chance for their voices and suffering to finally be heard. It’s a quiet display of Caitlyn’s evolution and willingness to bridge the divide between Piltover and Zaun.

That said, Arcane’s ending left much to be desired regarding Caitlyn’s arc. The heavy focus on Hextech overshadowed the sociopolitical dynamics of Piltover and Zaun. This is the main reason a lot of hate is thrown toward Caitlyn—there is an act of accountability, but there a lack of consequence. While Caitlyn acknowledges her mistakes, her privileged status keeps her from real repercussions, unlike the tragedy other characters had to face. This is frustrating, even to me, as someone whose favorite character is Caitlyn. Yet, in a way, it realistically portrays the inequalities in our own world—where the elite are often shielded from justice, and repentance is the closest they ever come to redemption.

[honeymark]

𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒏𝒄𝒕 𝟏𝟐𝟕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ㅡ

click 〔 here 〕 for the hyung line.

˗ˏˋ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 :: hi miss soojin ! could u write smth ab 127 comforting their insecure gf ? thank u so much ! ´ˎ˗

⇢ 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍 feels the most secure when you’re by his side, so he’s quick to notice when you start pulling away from him. at first, it was the texts — on the days you didn't see each other, you'd always text him throughout the day, even though you knew you wouldn't get a written response. it's not that he didn't read them; he was too busy with work to respond, so he'd always react with a thumbs up or a simple "haha." but then, your daily text threads stopped. he knew you had your own life, so he assumed you were too busy to send updates, but the nightly phone calls stopped, too. did he do something wrong? did you find someone else? what the fuck was going on?

he waits until the weekend to talk about it, and he listens attentively as you open up about wanting to be “less clingy and annoying.” he takes your hand in his with soft, cool fingers in a reassuring grip. “i didn’t know you felt this way, y/n,” he says softly. he presses a light kiss to your knuckles before delicately pulling you into a warm embrace. “you aren’t clingy or annoying, baby. you’re the cutest person in the world, and in a perfect world, i’d spend the rest of my life right by your side. nothing is as special as the time we spend together, and that includes reading your daily updates and watching all the tiktoks you send me and falling asleep to your soft snores on our nightly facetime calls. i love it all, and i love you, so don’t pull away from me, please?”

⇢ 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐎 isn’t one to ruminate on the past, mainly because he tends to overthink and overanalyze every little detail in a sticky situation. that being said, it would be a blatant lie to say that he hasn’t looked into your former relationships and partners. he’s matured enough over the years to keep his jealousy in check, but no matter how much time he spends with you, he just can’t seem to shake off a lingering insecurity that’s convinced him he isn’t fulfilling your needs…

which is why he’s all the more surprised when you bring up the same insecurities to him. he listens without judgement or interruption as you express how you’ve been feeling, his heart aching as you tearfully open up about not being enough for him. he waits for you to finish before enveloping you in a tight hug, and he thanks you for being vulnerable with him, reminding you that your feelings and concerns are valid. he gets carried away with listing all of the qualities he loves about you, and he doesn’t stop until you seal his lips yourself with a kiss. “there’s nothing to compare, my love. no one holds a candle to you. you’re the one for me, i mean it!”

⇢ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 knew from the moment you met that there was no hope for him; he was going to fall head over heels in love with you. it’s been five years since then, and his affection for you has only increased tenfold. he truly admires everything about you, from your ability to understand and empathize with others, to your independence and strength, to your resilience and readiness to bounce back from any setback, to your creativity and ridiculous sense of humor. of course, he appreciates your beauty (something that he reminds you of very frequently, especially at night 🤠), but more than anything, he loves you for who you are and genuinely cherishes the depth of your connection.

so, unsurprisingly, he’s concerned by how suddenly adamant you are about not wanting to get dressed in front of him, something you’ve been doing for years now. at first, he doesn’t think much of it; you reserve the right to privacy, and he respects that, but it goes on for over a week. he’s sure something is bothering you, and his suspicions are confirmed by how you immediately burst into tears when he asks you about it. he holds you in a firm embrace as you describe how insecure you feel because of your stretch marks and acne scars. nothing hurts his heart more than to hear you disparage yourself, and he waits until you calm down to share his thoughts.

"it's okay to feel that way, babe. but i'm going to be honest...i think you're beautiful no matter what. who cares about stretch marks or acne scars? those are just nouns. they don't mean anything, and they definitely don't take away from how amazing of a human being you are. you’re beautiful, and i can’t get enough of you.”

⇢ 𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 is the first man you’ve ever met who’s been able to intellectually and humorously keep up with you, and you haven’t given him a chance to escape from your grip ever since (not that he’s ever wanted to, of course). the two of you met in college, and after months of constantly riffing off each other, you made the first move and confessed your feelings in an uncharacteristically sincere way. it’s been a few years since then, and while it’s undeniable that you two have the most fun when you’re together, you start to wonder if he really loves you. it’s not that your relationship was necessarily lacking anything; you two were plenty intimate, both emotionally and physically, but…it still couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

it’s one of those “let’s order pizza and rot on the couch for hours” kinds of nights when you finally find the courage to ask him, “do you love me?” he hears you, but it’s clear he doesn’t take you seriously; he doesn’t even bother looking up from his phone as he answers with a sarcastic “of course not.” he waits for you to respond with some sort of witty comeback, but you don’t. he glances up and nearly drops his phone on his face when he sees you tearing up. he immediately asks if you’re okay, and he solemnly listens as you make light of your insecurities. he pulls you into a rough hug and kisses you, his lips soft and sweet against yours. “shit, baby, i’m sorry. i didn’t know you were feeling this way. of course i love you. y/n, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and i’m sorry that i don’t say it enough. i love you, baby. i love you so much.”

[zmxchs]

First Sight

➤ Summary: When you arrive in New Orleans to settle your late grandmother’s affairs, you never expected to be swept into the supernatural politics of the French Quarter—or to meet a man like Elijah Mikaelson. ➤ Warning: Mild supernatural elements, suggestive romantic tension, mentions of blood (typical for The Originals setting). Fluff-heavy. ➤ Word Count: 1,030

The city smelled like sweet decay—jasmine, old brick, and something darker woven through the air like shadowed thread. You stepped out of the cab with your suitcase in one hand and your grandmother’s worn leather journal in the other. She’d left you a key to her apartment above Royal Street and a list of “important names to avoid.”

You hadn't believed in her stories. Not really. But now, standing in the heart of the French Quarter with the sun slipping below the rooftops, you felt watched.

The iron-gated courtyard was still when you entered. Ivy curled like tendrils over stone and lanterns glowed softly, despite no visible source of power. You found her door, unlocked it, and stepped into her world. The scent of cloves and old paper greeted you.

You didn’t expect a knock at the door within the hour.

You opened it cautiously—and froze.

The man before you was impossibly composed. A charcoal gray suit hugged his tall form like it had been tailored for his very bones. His dark eyes scanned you with the kind of quiet intensity that made your lungs forget how to work.

“Elijah Mikaelson,” he said smoothly, as if that explained everything.

You blinked. “I’m sorry…?”

He offered a subtle smile. “I was acquainted with your grandmother. She was a friend to our family… in her own way.”

“Our?”

“Elijah,” came a voice from behind him—careless and clipped. Another man stepped into view, blond, scruffy, dangerously charming in that storm-before-the-fight way. “You’re scaring the poor girl.”

Elijah didn’t so much as flinch. “I believe she’s more curious than afraid.”

You should have shut the door. You should’ve called the police or told them to leave. But your body betrayed you, rooted to the ground by the sheer force of him—Elijah. His presence was gravity.

“What do you want?” you asked.

“I only wished to welcome you to New Orleans.” His eyes softened, something respectful yet terribly ancient hiding in their depths. “And to offer you protection, should you find yourself… overwhelmed.”

You scoffed. “Overwhelmed by what?”

The blond one smirked. “Oh, she’s going to be fun.”

“Elijah,” you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. “Why would I need protection?”

His gaze flickered—just enough to know he was choosing what not to say. “Because your grandmother kept company with monsters. And some of them remember her.”

You thought about the stories she told you as a child—witches, wolves, vampires with endless lives and deeper hungers. They’d been fairy tales.

Until tonight.

“Let me guess,” you said, voice steadier than your racing pulse. “You’re one of them?”

He inclined his head, almost reverent. “I am.”

And you believed him.

Elijah didn’t push inside. He didn’t offer a warning or a threat. Just a business card, thick and elegant, with his name embossed in gold. You took it with trembling fingers.

“If you ever need assistance,” he said, “call me.”

“Why?” you asked before you could stop yourself. “Why help me?”

Something flickered across his expression. “Because kindness runs in your bloodline. And… because I felt I should.”

A beat. Then two.

His gaze locked with yours, and the rest of the world dimmed.

You knew then—soul-deep and silent—that this wasn’t the last time you’d see him.

✦ ✦ ✦

The second time was at midnight, when a spell gone wrong lit up your grandmother’s grimoire and nearly set your curtains on fire. You called him in a panic. He arrived before the smoke cleared, cradling you out of the chaos like you weighed nothing.

You saw the blood on his sleeve and didn’t flinch.

“You’re not afraid of me,” he murmured later, as you sat wrapped in a blanket, sipping wine he’d conjured from somewhere below.

“I think I should be,” you whispered.

He smiled—something sad, something breaking. “And yet… you’re not.”

You shook your head.

He leaned in close. “Then perhaps, for the first time in centuries, I’ve met someone extraordinary.”

You felt it again—that gravity. That pull.

Love at first sight was supposed to be impossible. Foolish. Fleeting.

But with Elijah, it felt like a memory waking up.

A promise whispered across lifetimes.

And it had only just begun.

[st4rfckerz]

October 9th - Hierophilia

Confessionals (priest!anakin)

word count: 0.9k

warnings: mdni 18+, dddne, religious themes, oral (male receiving), exhibitionism (?)

a/n: guys pretend i didn’t post this a day late 🧍‍♀️

You found yourself in the confessional, as Anakin had instructed at the start of church. The small room was dimly lit, the darkness providing a sense of privacy and anonymity. As you nervously waited, the sound of footsteps echoed in the empty building, followed by the gentle creak of the confessional door as Anakin joined you.

The moment Anakin stepped into the confessional, he closed the door behind him, sealing the two of you off from the world. Without a word, he pulled you into his lap, his hands gripping your waist as he claimed your lips in a ravenous kiss. You let out a soft moan, your body melting into his as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Anakin's hands roamed your body, his touch both possessive and tender. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, leaving you breathless and desperate for more.

“I've been thinking about you all week,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a low growl. “I can't get enough of you.”

You shivered at his words, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew that what you were doing was wrong, that it went against everything you believed in but the desire that coursed through your veins was too powerful to resist. Anakin pulled back from the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“We have to be quick,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “We can't risk being caught here.” You nodded, your heart racing. The thrill of being caught only heightened the intensity of the moment. “Just need to feel you again.”

You nodded, understanding the urgency in his voice. Without a word, you slid off his lap, your knees hitting the hard floor. Anakin's breath hitched as you began to unzip his pants, his bulge becoming apparent as it strained against the fabric. With gentle hands, you pulled his pants and underwear down, freeing his hardened cock.

You didn't hesitate, wrapping your lips around him, your tongue swirling around the head. The taste and feel of him sent shivers down your spine, the sinful act only fueling your desire. Anakin let out a guttural moan, his hands threading through your hair, guiding your movements. “That's it, take all of it.”

Anakin's hands gently guided your head, controlling the depth and speed of your movements. The back of his head hit the confessional wall with a soft thud, the force of his moans shaking the small space.

Just as you were getting into a rhythm, the creak of the confessional door on the other side of the partition startled you both. The voice that followed was unfamiliar, the person on the other side beginning the introductory prayer. You froze, your heart pounding as you remained on your knees, your lips wrapped around Anakin. The person on the other side began to recount their sins, their voice shaky and uncertain. Anakin gestures for you to stay quiet and continues to guide your movements. His lips formed the words of a response, his voice firm and reassuring.

“Go on, my child. Tell me what's been weighing on your heart.” Anakin responds to the oblivious church goer.

The person on the other side of the partition began their confession, their voice filled with remorse and guilt. “Father, I've been struggling with impure thoughts. I can't seem to control them, and it's been eating away at me.” Anakin listened intently, his voice calm and soothing as he offered words of guidance and comfort.

“It's natural to have such thoughts, my child. The important thing is to resist acting on them. Remember, you are a child of God, and He is always there to help you.” The entire time, he maintained his composure, his actions those of a man of God, not the sinner he was in that moment.

You could feel Anakin's leg tense beneath you, his body language betraying his own struggle to maintain composure. But despite the risk, he continued to guide the person on the other side, his voice never wavering.

The person on the other side began to ramble, their confession turning into a stream of consciousness filled with guilt and fear. “Father, I've been so weak. I've stolen from my friends. I've lied to my parents. I'm afraid I'm going to hell.” Anakin listened patiently, his voice still gentle as he responded. As the person on the other side continued to ramble on, you could see Anakin roll his eyes in frustration.

You notice Anakin's composure begin to falter. He shifted slightly, his hips slightly bucking up into your mouth, his breath coming in shorter gasps. His voice, which had been steady and reassuring, now held a slight tremor as he struggled to maintain his focus. You redoubled your efforts, your tongue swirling around Anakin's cock, The confession on the other side continued, its words lost in the haze of your desire.

“Y-yes, my child.” he stammered, his words coming out in a rush. “You must seek forgiveness. And... and remember, God's love is unconditional. He will forgive you if you truly repent.”

Finally, the person on the other side finished their confession, their footsteps echoing as they left the church. Anakin let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling as they released their grip on the partition.

“That was too close.” you whispered, your voice shaking.

“We'll have to find another place to…meet.”

Anakin pulled you to your feet, his hand cupping the back of your neck as he leaned in to kiss you, the urgency gone, replaced by a tender, possessive claim.

Anakin led you out of the confessional, his hand firmly gripping yours. He guided you through the empty church, back to his office, a space that offered more privacy than the small, vulnerable confessionals.

[eternallyordinary]

“He Belongs to You” - Part 17

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡

Series Masterlist<3

Summary: Standing before your attackers, Homelander at your side, a thought settles in your mind—maybe everything truly does happen for a reason.

Warnings: sexual assault trauma/descriptions, violence, possessive behavior, yandere, controlling relationships, language, violence, gore

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡

Homelander has always been aware of your strength, admiring the effortless confidence with which you navigate the world. However, even he must admit—he hadn’t realized the depth of your power until now.

As someone more machine than man, he’s never truly grasped that real strength isn’t just about power. It’s something far deeper—something woven into the very soul of a person. And when you rise from your suffering—raw, scarred, unshaken—he sees it clearly: you are strength itself.

He catches your eye, and in that instant, all he wants is to take you away. To burn this place to the fucking ground. To rip them apart one by one. To carry you somewhere far, somewhere untouched, where no one can ever hurt you again.

But he doesn’t move. Because he knows—this is your fight to finish. Your chapter to close.

And for someone who has never truly been human, maybe the most human thing he can do now… is simply stay.

“I remember everything.”

The silence hangs heavy in the room, thick with unspoken truths and uneasy tension. Their guilty expressions telling you everything—you have them trapped, and they know it. They know you’re right.

But Jimmy? He isn’t going to admit it. Not now, not ever. Because deep down, he still doesn’t believe he did anything wrong. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out, other girls have suffered because of one judge’s reckless ruling—because of a decision made in a room just like this one.

“It seems like your memory is still confused,” Jimmy sneers, still clinging to that last, fraying thread of arrogance. His eyes gleam with something dark, something twisted, as he leans in just enough to make his presence suffocating. “Because all I remember is how wet you were.”

Then, with a sharp breath and a flick of his chin, he spits on the ground. His contempt dripping from his lips just as easily as the venom in his words.

Homelander’s eyes flick to the spot where Jimmy’s spit hit the floor, then slowly back to Jimmy. His expression doesn’t shift—not at first. But the air around him does. A sharp, suffocating pressure, thick enough to choke on. Then, in an instant, he moves.

Jimmy barely has time to blink before Homelander grabs him by the throat, lifting him off the ground like he weighs nothing. The boy’s arrogance vanishes, replaced with frantic clawing at the vice around his neck. His legs kick uselessly in the air.

“Oh, Jimmy,” Homelander’s fingers press in, squeezing, crushing, as if testing just how much pressure it’ll take to snap Jimmy’s throat like a twig.

“Didn’t your mother wash your mouth out with soap? No? Shame. Guess I’ll have to do it for her!”

Jimmy lets out a strangled gasp, his hands clawing desperately at Homelander’s wrist. The air leaves his lungs in short, frantic bursts. His body twitching as panic set in. Homelander loves watching him struggle, a small smirk curling at his lips. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sends Jimmy crashing to the floor like discarded garbage. He lands hard, coughing and wheezing, hands clutching at his bruised throat.

Homelander crouches down beside him, resting his elbow on his knee. His piercing gaze locked onto Jimmy’s crumpled form.

“Tell me, Jimmy,” he continues, his voice low, taunting. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Or do you just force it onto girls who are too far gone to fight back?”

Jimmy tries to speak, but only a strangled breath escapes.

Homelander chuckles. “That’s what I thought.”

Then, in one fluid motion, he stands, straightening his suit as if nothing happened. The other boys shake uncontrollably with fear. He lets out a slow, calm breath. Rolling his shoulders back as if shaking off the impulse to do more. Then, his gaze flickers back to you. And just like that? Nothing else matters.. Not the way he controlled you, not the way he could be cruel, not even the way he had hurt you—how he could hurt you. You don’t care it had only been a few weeks, that logic and reason screamed at you to run. You have spent so much time questioning life—wondering if there’s any meaning to the chaos, the suffering. But right now, looking at him? You have your answer. He is the meaning. He’s yours.

And maybe, just maybe, all the pain, all the heartbreak, all the moments that nearly broke you—maybe they led you here. Because in this moment, with him, you can feel it. Purpose. And if the pain was the price of finding him—it was all worth it.

No one has ever come close to caring for you like this. No one has ever protected you, fought for you—not like he has. Not in ways that burned, not in ways that stayed. And even if his love isn’t gentle, even if it isn’t what you had imagined, it was there. Unshakable. Unyielding. This love was once in a lifetime.

You turn, stepping closer to him, your heart pounding. The weight of every eye in the room—your attackers, watching in stunned silence—doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters. You reach for him, your hands cradling his face, fingers pressing into his cheeks. You look at him—really look at him—with something raw, something reverent. Admiration. Worship.

And he feels it.

A shudder runs through him, barely perceptible, but you can see it. You know this is what he craves. The devotion. The need. And right now, in this moment, you’re willing to give it.

“Homelander… thank you.”

You press your head against his chest. He hesitates before his fingers curl into your hair—he’s still learning how to love, still figuring out how to give affection in a way that isn’t about control.

“I want you to finish it.”

Homelander’s fingers twitch against your scalp. “You want me to kill them?”

“I know how badly you want to—and you know that’s just… not me. I can’t do it.”

Homelander exhales, eyes flickering across your face, searching.

“Go outside. You don’t need to see this.”

“I don’t have to go outside—”

“Please,” he interrupts, his tone firm but not unkind. “Please wait for me outside.”

You hold his gaze, then slowly lift your hand, pressing it against his chest. His heart beat strong beneath your palm, steady but quick.

“Okay,” you whisper. “But please know—nothing you do will ever change the way I feel about you.”

Hearing those words, something in him cracks wide open.

“Nothing you do will ever change the way I feel about you.”

He hears you. Really hears you.

It slices through him in a way nothing else ever has. Nothing else ever could. Nothing else ever will. Affection has always been foreign to him. Devotion without conditions? Unheard of.

And yet—here you are.

Wanting him despite it all.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡

tags: @raginginkedslut @lilyalone @helreyy

[astraystayyh]

skz quotes series masterlist

these are the fics i am currently working on, where the quote is part of the dialogue or it inspired the fic as a whole!! brainstorming these was very fun, i hope you'll enjoy reading it <3 2/8 done.

chan x reader. soulmates!au. strangers to lovers.

in a world where you can only see colors once you meet your designated soulmate, you already know that you and chan weren't destined for another. but maybe, just maybe, the stars were wrong about you both.

"on purpose. i love him on purpose." - Casey Mcquinston.

Echoes of love- minho x reader. lovers to (one sided) strangers. memory loss trope. [posted]

if given the choice to, would you love minho again? yes, you would've once said in a heartbeat. but now, you aren't sure of your response anymore.

"to love someone is to firstly confess, I'm prepared to be devastated by you." - Billy-Ray Belcourt.

changbin x reader. fwbs with so much emotional and physical tension.

things were clear and simple between you and changbin- a strictly physical relationship with no strings attached. until those same threads bursted at the seams, making you question everything you thought you knew about him.

"if i kissed you right now, i don't think I'd be able to stop." - unknown. & "please forget your scarf in my life and come back later for it" - Mikko Harvey

hyunjin x reader. art students. forced proximity. slow burn. hanahaki disease!au.

working on an assigned art project for three months with hyunjin is an easy task, right? not so much when you're both exactly what the other is afraid of, and simultaneously, terribly longing for.

"f i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more." - Jane Austen.

Volcano- han x reader. enemies to friends to lovers. uni au. [posted]

you've never gotten along with han, your mutual prejudices ruining any prospect of friendship between you both. but you slowly realize that you are more similar than what you originally thought- your darkness recognizing his, and his light yearning for yours.

"I'll take care of you. it's rotten work. not to me, not if it's you." - Anne Carson.

felix x reader. exes to lovers. second chances. [au is yet to be determined]

in which you meet your ex felix years down the road, and you realize that maybe, just maybe, the love never truly deserted your heart.

"for a while it was love, wasn't it? for me, it was love." - Unknown.

seungmin x reader. best friends to lovers with a taste of unrequited love.

seungmin believed he was content with only being your friend. of being the one picking up pieces of you that others carelessly broke. but in the depths of his bruised heart, he desperately needed you to stitch him back together, for once.

"oh god, please. please. love me. love me. desperation sits heavy on my tongue." - a.m.

jeongin x reader. strangers to lovers.

jeongin hated the commute he took daily from his hometown to his work in Seoul. Until the day you stepped in the train and sat on the seat facing him, changing his view of this train ride, and his life.

"on the train we swapped seats, you wanted the window and i wanted to look at you." - Mahmoud Darwish

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

the taglist for this series is closed, there is no set schedule nor a particular order. comment or send me an ask if you want to be added. (general taglist is also open :))

p.s: if u happen to know whose the owner of these quotes, please tell me. most of them come from tiktok slideshows ajdjdh

[yoomiwrites]

Missing Ghost²

Summary: After losing her memory in a storm, a young Marine remembers only the name “Mihawk” and sets out to find him, convinced he holds the key to her past. As she sharpens her skills and follows his trail across countless ports, Mihawk is always just out of reach. Finally, she arrives at a port where his ship waits, knowing her answers are close.

Note: Since a lot of you enjoyed the first part —or rather the Trailer???— of Missing Ghost, I'll give you the second, which explains a little more. However, this story here won't get a fixed update scedule. But I promise, whenever we hit the 30 reactions, the new chapter will follow soon. Anyways, we got some skips here and there in this chapter, which might confuse you (sorry for that) but the next ones have a smooth flow. Gotta explain her side as well before we jump into our dramatic slow-burn.

The scent of saltwater clung to the breeze as I awoke, the distant murmur of waves steady and comforting, yet unfamiliar. It felt as though I’d drifted through a dream, a long, unbroken night I couldn’t remember. The first thing I saw was the kind face of an old woman bending over me, her hand resting on my shoulder as she whispered to someone nearby, "Thank heavens, she's alive."

For a year, the faces of this little coastal town became my whole world. These people—strangers at first, though I’d come to see them as family—had found me washed up on their shore after a heavy storm. They cared for me, helped me heal. They told me I had come in on a rough tide, barely breathing. My past was blank, a black slate, as empty as the horizon.

Yet there was a restlessness within me, a flicker of something left undone. I would catch myself watching the ocean, feeling a pull toward its vastness, like an anchor somewhere deep within me, half-forgotten and buried in the depths.

I tried to ignore it, forcing myself into a routine, helping with the nets, mending sails, doing small, clumsy chores around town. The villagers laughed at my mishaps, good-natured and warm, and I laughed along with them, though a part of me always wondered why everything felt so… wrong, somehow. Like wearing clothes that didn’t fit.

And then, one evening, as I watched the sun dip below the horizon, something strange came over me—a memory, slipping into focus for just a heartbeat. It was of a man, standing tall, his eyes as sharp as a hawk’s gaze, cutting through everything they touched. His form was shrouded in darkness, yet I could sense the weight of his stare, the cool indifference he wore like a cloak.

Dracule Mihawk.

The name surged through me, as if pulled from the depths of the sea itself. It tasted familiar, filled with fear and awe, with a reverence that felt misplaced, yet urgent. His voice echoed in the back of my mind, words as cold and biting as steel: “You’re supposed to be watching me, not getting yourself killed.”

And then, like a fragile thread slipping through my fingers, the memory faded, leaving only the faintest trace, like footprints in the sand washed away by the tide.

Days passed, and I could think of little else. The name haunted me, a specter hovering at the edge of my consciousness, tugging at some long-buried duty. I tried to bury it, to shake off the strange yearning, yet each time, it returned stronger, more insistent.

Then, one night, as a storm rolled in, I felt a reckless determination rise within me. I had to know who I was—had to know why the name of a Warlord carried such weight within me, why it felt like my life had revolved around that solitary, distant figure.

As the storm thundered above, I knew what I had to do.

I packed what little I owned, slipping away before dawn. I didn’t know where I was going or if I’d even find what I sought, but I knew I couldn’t stay here, not anymore. I had to find Mihawk, to remember why he haunted my dreams. And maybe, just maybe, I’d find myself in the process.

In my heart, I could still hear the echoes of my own laugh, wild and breathless, lingering in the back of my mind like a fragment of the past I couldn’t quite grasp.

The small boat cut through the waves, though each crest grew higher and stronger, rocking the vessel with an intensity I hadn’t anticipated. For a while, I managed well enough, adjusting as the water slapped against the sides, my hands tight on the oars. I’d learned to fish out here, enough to know how to read the currents, to feel when the sea was ready to turn against you. But now, as I looked out at the dark, churning horizon, I felt a prickle of doubt.

My mind kept drifting back to him—this elusive figure who seemed to haunt my memory and my purpose. I couldn’t shake the feeling that finding him would somehow explain everything, that he held the key to the pieces I couldn’t remember. Mihawk. The name itself felt heavy, burdened with something I couldn’t name. And each time I tried to recall him, his face slipped away, features blurring into the shadows, like he was some phantom my mind had conjured.

But even though his image stayed frustratingly vague, the feeling was as sharp as ever. I knew it was real. And I knew I had to find him.

The waves rose higher, and I braced myself, leaning into each swell with a determination that was half instinct, half desperation. The salt stung my skin, the chill of the ocean seeping into my bones, but I pressed on. It had been around a year since I’d woken on that lonely shore with no memory, no past, nothing but the kindness of strangers who didn’t ask questions. And yet, beneath the surface, this pull toward something—someone—was always there, like a silent tide that had finally dragged me out to sea.

I tried to picture him again, forcing myself to concentrate. A flash of his eyes—piercing, unyielding—came to mind, and I felt my heartbeat quicken. I could almost hear his voice, cold and amused, saying once more: “You’re supposed to be watching me, not getting yourself killed.” There was no warmth in those words, yet something in them rang familiar, almost comforting, like I’d heard them countless times before.

A hard wave broke against the boat, yanking me from the memory. I gasped, feeling the boat tip precariously before I steadied it. Every time I focused on Mihawk, on those fractured glimpses of the past, the sea seemed to rise in response, as if testing my resolve. I wondered if he was as dangerous as the ocean itself, as indifferent to life and death, sweeping in and out of people’s lives without a trace. And yet, if he truly was that figure, why did I feel this pull to find him, this sense of trust mingled with wariness? It made no sense, but here I was, risking everything on a memory as thin as smoke.

Ahead, I could see the faint outline of an island, its shape barely visible against the steel-gray sky. Relief mixed with fear as I realized I was getting closer to my goal. If I could reach a port, I could ask around, maybe find someone who knew his name, or knew where he could be found. Mihawk was a Warlord; surely, someone, somewhere, would know something about him. At least that was what the kind people of my island had told me.

But as I rowed, a single question lingered, haunting me as much as his name did: If I found him, would he remember me?

I couldn’t shake the image of those intense, unreadable eyes watching me, studying me like I was some strange creature that had somehow stumbled into his world. And though the image was as unclear as the horizon in a storm, I felt a flash of defiance, of determination. If he didn’t remember me, I would make him. He was the only link to who I had been, to everything I had lost. And if I had to face the storm to get there, then so be it.

Another wave crashed against the boat, nearly knocking me back. My hands ached, but I held on, fighting the urge to look back at the safety of the shoreline far behind me. I kept my eyes forward, fixed on the island.

The dock was bustling as I arrived, my clothes soaked with sea spray, exhaustion settling into my bones. But my heart was pounding as I scanned the horizon, hoping, daring to believe that maybe, just maybe, this time he would actually be here.

I had been on his trail for what felt like forever. Each time I thought I’d caught up to him—whispers in taverns, rumors in passing, a hushed mention of “Hawk Eyes Mihawk”—I’d find nothing more than empty docks or vague traces of his presence. It was as though he was always one step ahead, a shadow slipping through my grasp. I grew used to the strange, half-maddening cycle of arriving somewhere, just a few hours too late. There’d be an empty mug in an inn, a murmur of a cloaked figure sighted in a nearby town. But never him.

At first, it had been simple enough to pick up his trail. I found myself listening intently to sailors’ tales and buying drinks for anyone with even the slightest hint of information. But as months turned into years, I learned quickly that mere words weren’t enough. I couldn’t rely on others. So, I fought. I survived, tracking down pirates and mercenaries who owed their lives to Mihawk—or feared him enough to give me scraps of knowledge, little more than breadcrumbs. With every fight, every encounter, I grew stronger, a clumsy, scattered style slowly becoming something sharper, something that could almost be called technique.

I could almost feel Mihawk’s ghostly disapproval as I fumbled my way through fights in the beginning, wielding a blade with a mixture of grit and inexperience. He was an image, a goal I couldn’t quite touch, and as time passed, I wondered if he’d simply vanish again like the dream I couldn’t remember. But something in me wouldn’t let go. He was out there. And the small memories I had of him felt realer, more vivid, as if he were watching, aware that I was on his trail, though always staying just out of reach.

Sometimes I wondered if he was avoiding me, if he had no intention of ever meeting me again. Perhaps, to him, I was nothing more than a ghost, something easily ignored and forgotten. The thought gnawed at me, but I kept going, surviving each storm and each struggle, clinging to the hope that I would find him, that I would finally learn who I was and why he haunted my memories.

And now, as I stood at the edge of this crowded port, I felt a surge of hope—and fear. His ship was docked here, the enormous black vessel unmistakable, casting a shadow over the water. People whispered in awe and fear, as if his mere presence filled the air with a kind of sharp, electric tension. There was no mistaking it; he had to be here.

I took a shaky breath, trying to ignore the thrill of adrenaline mixed with exhaustion. After all these months, all these years of following nothing but a rumor, I was finally close. Somewhere in this town, he was here. I could almost hear his voice again, cold and distant, watching me with that sharp, unreadable gaze, reminding me of how far I still had to go.

This time, I wouldn’t let him slip away.

[dreamsy990]

SPONTANEOUS MINI REVIEW BECAUSE I REALIZED THAT I HAVENT FUCKING TALKED ABOUT FRAGMENTARY PASSAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ok so. i actually really liked this one!

so uh. if you witnessed that incredibly long thread i made yelling about kh3 you will know that i. am not a fan of the look of modern kh. i think its kind of uninteresting compared to the delightfully cartoony style and just generally i dont like more realistic looks to games that already had a unique visual identity.

so im here to say that i think it works for 0.2! im a good way through kh3 and i dont think it works well there and ill get to that when i eventually review that game but. in 0.2 i think the new style fits the more dark tone very nicely, and the enviornments are absolutely gorgeous. like i came out of ddd thinking absolutely nothing could top symphony of sorcery in terms of world design and was proven wrong. the realm of darkness is my new favorite kh "world". for my mutuals who havent played kh, look at this!!! its absolutely gorgeous

and the environments are actually my favorite thing about this game. besides being beautiful, theyre also delightfully trippy and unsettling. theres a section where you have to climb up a seemingly never ending staircase, and every time you reach what you think is the top you hear aquas worst thoughts. a lot of the areas are twisted, destroyed versions of worlds seen in bbs. its very dark (fitting, for the realm of darkness) and honestly its a treat to just walk around admiring the view. the visual storytelling is as good as kh ever gets.

i briefly mentioned aquas thoughts a minute ago so ill bring them up again, her commentary adds a lot to the desolate atmosphere, and this game really feels like a character study. it shows her desperation, her worst thoughts, her hope despite everything, and its just genuinely good. i havent been able to say that about khs character writing since like. days. its GOOD.

i am. not a fan of bbs' writing. i think its got a good underlying concept with absolutely terrible execution, and it makes me wonder at times if the things i like about it were intentional or not. but this game takes the best written character of bbs and gives her more depth than they ever could before. i can say with confidence that aqua is one of the best characters in the series, and a lot of it is because of this game.

the tone here is very gloomy, but thats not really a complaint because the game is so short. the depressing atmosphere isnt too much to bear because youre barely in it for more than 2 hours. and i think that run time is EXACTLY long enough. it goes for exactly as long as it needs to tell the story and still give a moment to breathe.

as for gameplay. im not the biggest fan of the updated system. i like to think im open to change with kh's combat. i think the command deck has potential and the card system in com was fun and i actually liked days' panel system. but something about the way this new version of the system feels to play is just. unsatisfying. hits dont feel like they have any weight to me, and spells feel inconsequential despite being more grandiose than ever. its just not as good as it was before, and like its a sort of half assed replacement of reaction commands. the way they incorporated style changes into it was okay, but again its not as satisfying as it was in bbs. but maybe it was just satisfying in bbs because the rest of the combat there sucked

tldr, the things i care about in a game (writing and visuals) were fucking spectacular, but the gameplay definitely had room to improve. also if i ever have to fight a darkside again ill throw up and cry! 8/10, though im tempted to raise it to a 9 for the environments alone

[tvlandofficiall]

since you think seam will be a secret boss, what do you think their motive will be for fighting us?

i personally think that, over the course of the game, seeing how strong the heroes have become, they start to have hope for the future. they've been trying not to, because they know these hopes will inevitably be dashed - better to not have hope in the first place, so that it doesn't hurt when they're proven wrong, right? but they just can't help themself.

so the fight is basically one last desperate attempt to snuff out their own hope. if the heroes are strong enough to beat seam, seam will finally let themself have hope that maybe this messed up world really can be fixed, and they will lend the heroes their strength to help them do this.

i have more thoughts on this matter but i have trouble putting thoughts into words...!

i'm going to take this ask as an opportunity to tangent about something i've wanted to tangent about for a while, but to make sure i answer everything here, let's break it down;

this question is one i see a lot. it's a pleasant surprised to see you've pitched it as something with an answer you've thought about, because most often i see it used as a counterargument proposed without an answer. "why would seam want to fight us? they're a nihilist!" is something i've seen in a few threads and comments sections when the topic of seam as a boss comes up. but being a nihilist doesn't make them a flat character – undertale has a whole separate character that is a bit of a nihilist, too.

but seam isn't just "sans but again", either – toby fox simply likes to play with character foils across both of his games and these two have just as much that sets them apart as they have in common.

i like your idea – of the trio casting off being so-called "heroes" and challenging fate itself instead. seam beginning to develop cracks in their bitter and cynical attitude towards them as a result could certainly be an interesting turn for their character to take. overall with seam, a part of what makes predicting them tricky is that they're a shopkeeper who'll almost certainly get new big chunks of dialogue with each chapter. think about how much of their dialogue is situation-specific across both chapters – and think about how much dialogue shopkeepers get in general! and their secretive personality certainly doesn't make them an open book. that said, we do still have a good foundation of other things right now that could motivate seam to fight us. seam loves to fight, has a bit of a bitter 'tude towards the trio thus far, is curious about what might've happened to jevil, and seems to want our shadow crystals for something. (see my big seamnalysis for me going more in-depth on all that.)

these are all left as dangling threads – points of intrigue that could be touched on again at some point in the future. and if they are, all of them could make for interesting boss fight material! my personal pet theory is that i like the idea of seam wanting us to get stronger so they can finally have a good fight again, but another idea i've been entertaining lately is that if they do want the shadow crystals because of some more directly gaster-related reason, maybe it's out of curiosity. after all, gaster exists on a higher level of fate than even the light world – and given his ties to the prophecy and to us he seems pretty concerned with making sure nothing shakes up the status quo. to know everything about fate – not to change it, just to know it – that'd be an interesting motivation too, even if that idea leans more towards something i'd like to see explored in fanwork than it does towards a prediction i would feel certain making about the game itself. there's a lot you could do and a lot there to work with!

[unbreakablevuw]

The cave was darker than James had imagined. The damp, cold air seemed to seep into his bones, weighing him down as he watched Regulus struggle with the enchanted chain around his neck, pulling the heavy, cursed locket out of the murky water. They’d fought their way through Voldemort’s protections to get here—Regulus’s secrets, whispered urgently in the quiet hours they’d shared, had been the key to it all. And now, they were close. So close to ending this nightmare.

But as James glanced at Regulus, he knew something was wrong.

Regulus’s face was pale, his skin almost translucent, like he’d already started to fade. Each movement seemed to cost him more, his hands trembling as he gripped the chain. James reached out, steadying him, feeling the unnatural chill radiating from Regulus’s skin.

“You’ve done enough, Reg,” James said, a thread of desperation in his voice. “Let’s just go. We can get help, tell Dumbledore. We don’t have to do this alone.”

Regulus shook his head, an odd, sad smile crossing his face. “There’s no one else, James. No one who would understand what I know. And if we leave now, he’ll know we were here. Voldemort will find it, hide it away again.” His gaze drifted to the cursed locket, his expression hardening. “I have to do this. I won’t let him keep winning. Not this time.”

James’s heart was pounding, a sharp ache spreading through him, but he didn’t release Regulus’s hand. “You can’t… You don’t have to do this alone,” he said, his voice breaking. “We’re not done. I—Reg, I need you to come back with me.”

Regulus’s fingers brushed against his, soft, lingering, and James knew, somewhere deep in his bones, that Regulus had already made his choice. “There’s no coming back for me, James,” he whispered, so quietly that James had to lean in to hear. “Not from this. I made my choices long ago. This is the only way I can make up for them. I need you to understand that.”

James wanted to argue, wanted to shout, but something in Regulus’s eyes—a deep, unyielding sadness—stilled him. He nodded, his throat tightening as he felt a tear slip down his cheek. “I… I understand,” he managed, voice thick.

Regulus’s hand lingered in his for a moment longer, his thumb tracing a slow, gentle line over James’s knuckles, a silent promise in his touch. Then he pulled away, his fingers slipping from James’s grip as he turned back to the locket. “Tell Sirius…” He hesitated, his voice barely a whisper. “Tell him I tried. That I didn’t go down without a fight.”

James couldn’t look away, his heart twisting as Regulus took the locket in his hands, raising his wand. The dark water began to churn around him, shadows rising as the Inferi sensed their sacrifice. Regulus didn’t flinch. His gaze remained steady, his jaw clenched, his face set with the same fierce determination James had come to love, however fleeting their time together had been.

In one final, broken breath, Regulus whispered, “Goodbye, James.”

And then he plunged into the water, the shadows closing over him, pulling him under. The locket glinted once before it disappeared into the depths, along with the boy who had once been nothing more to James than a name, a Slytherin, a Black.

James waited, hoping against hope that he would see Regulus resurface, gasping for air, with that defiant spark still in his eyes. But the water was silent, and the darkness swallowed everything.

When he finally left the cave, the locket clenched in his hand and his heart shattered, he felt emptier than he ever had. Regulus was gone, leaving behind nothing but a whispered promise, a silent memory, and the weight of a sacrifice that James would carry forever.

He’d tell Sirius, one day. But not yet. For now, Regulus’s last moments were his alone, a bittersweet ache he would hold close, long after the war ended, long after the world moved on.

Long after he stopped believing that he could.

[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning Out • VII

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 4.4k

General Fanfic Warnings: 18+, explicit language, smut, alcohol, drugs, violence, mentions murder/suicide, panic attacks/anxiety, nightmares

Authors note: Chapter Seven - I wish I wasn't lost (EDITED 09-03-24)

new? start from chapter one here

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY, IN REAL LIFE! IT IS SIMPLY FICTION, AND JUST FOR FUN! THINK OF THEM AS ACTORS LOL.

+

I moaned as she slid down one more time and I gripped her hair, holding her still. I filled her tongue as threads of my release coated the back of her throat. The sight below me left my legs shaking as I pulled away, tucking her hair behind her ears, and rubbing my fingers underneath her chin in endearment.

What have I done?

“Good girls swallow,” I whispered and she moaned.

“Open,” I said, watching in complete reverence as she stuck out her tongue, showing me that she obeyed, drinking in all of me.

I leaned down towards her, pulling her chin up to kiss me as I melted into her lips, sighing with commitment.

What have I done?

+++++

NOAH

I wonder how How can it be that two souls live beneath my chest? I wander on Through the snowfall And the firestorm

One week passed.

I had resorted to stealing from a few homes, but the objects I took were worth nothing compared to the cost of Y/N's drugs. After selling everything, I only made 4.5k, barely enough to maintain my daily goal of 645; and I was desperately trying to come up with another scheme to earn more cash. With my stolen money in hand, I went to one of D's associates, feeling a surge of anger at the smug grin on his face as he greedily snatched the envelope from my grasp.

‘Having fun Sebastian? Surprised you even made this much yourself.’It took everything in me to walk away without bashing his fucking face in.

As each day passed I was being eaten alive by guilt, and I could barely look at Y/N. She noticed the shift in my behaviour, persistently asking me what was wrong and if she had done something.

‘Nothing,’ I would say.

‘Just stressed,’ I would say.

Our final night together was the night I stole her medication. As she held me in her arms, drifting off into a peaceful slumber, I couldn't bring myself to close my eyes. Instead, I quietly cried while she slept, unaware of the lies that lay next to her.

The next morning, I lied and said I would sleep in the spare bedroom across the hall. The expression on her face was heart-wrenching.

‘Oh, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I know that the nightmares are hard to deal with.’ She had said, her eyes falling briefly before she attempted to hide her expression with a smile.

My heart yearned at her words, wanting to hold her against my chest, ready to block out all the evil in the world if it meant protecting her. It wasn’t the nightmares that pushed me away, it was myself.

‘I don’t want to invade your space more than I already am.’ I responded.

I watched her take her pills when she did, my chest clenching in shame with every sip of water that followed the lies.

I wish I wasn't afraid of The haunted valley

The boys watched the remorse control me as I began to shut off the world, secluding myself from Y/N, and them.

I wish I wasn't a failure That nobody needs

“Noah?”

In the depths of my mind, I'm lost and confined A question gnaws at my core; I can't deny

“Noah.” Am I a mere illusion, a ghost in the crowd? Or do I carry a soul screaming out loud?

“Noah!”

I pulled out my earbuds at the call of my name, and my eyes squinted open. Ruffilo stood over me as I lay on the mattress in the basement, drowning in lyrics. The music blared from the removed bud as Nicholas glared, folding his arms.

I wish the voices in my head stopped their shrill tongues Just for a second so I could breathe some fresh air For a moment so I could stop sinking into despair I am a traitor in the face of myself

“Did you want to work on the song?” He asked, “Or are you wallowing in self-pity?”

A slave to a maggot that eats away my soul I ask the mountains to consume me as a whole How long will I be captured in this maze in the hail?

The song.

Y/N had hooked us up with a gig at Sammy’s tomorrow night, and Jolly had the brilliant idea of finishing our first-ever set with an original song; despite us never even playing for an audience. I wasn’t sure if I was more nervous about playing some shitty music in front of an audience of strangers, or that one of the audience members would be Y/N.

I shrugged and closed my eyes, sinking into the softness of the pillow with the bud still in my ear. Nicholas shook his head at me. He leaned over, tugging on one earbud to make me listen to him.

"Come on, you can't mope forever," he said with a sigh.

"I can try," I retorted, pulling the bud back from him as I sat up.

"You've been ignoring her for days. Can't you see how much it's hurting her? You messed up, not her." Nicholas' words hit me like a slap in the face.

I turned away from his piercing gaze, but I couldn't help but notice Jolly and Folio pretending to work while eavesdropping on our conversation.

"She's been bringing your regular coffee every day after work because you haven't even been showing up," Nicholas continued, his tone sharp.

I felt guilty as I chewed on the inside of my cheek, unable to meet anyone's eyes. She has?

I rolled my head back “I know. None of it is fair to her.”

Nicholas perched on a chair by the wall, observing me with caution in his eyes. "You need to stop taking your guilt out on her," he said.

I let out a deep breath and got up from the bed, tossing my earbuds onto the sheets. "I can't even look at her without feeling like she sees through me," I admitted.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Nicholas asked.

I scoffed and threw my hands up in frustration. "Yes it is, because I took her pills and had to watch her swallow fake ones," I ranted as I paced around the room. "Pills that are supposed to help her, but are nothing but deceit!"

Nicholas kept his gaze on me, his brow furrowed. Folio's face also showed disappointment as he watched from the side.

"She takes those pills expecting relief, but I took that away from her!" I stopped walking for a moment, pressing my palms against my eyes and exhaling loudly in turmoil.

"You made a choice," Nicholas stood up and approached me, standing in front of me.

He looked into my eyes with a mix of anger and sadness. "I hate seeing you like this, Noah, but you messed up."

"I know I messed up, Nick," I replied, my chest rising and falling rapidly. Nicholas wrapped his arms around me, offering comfort.

"You need to tell her," he advised, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

I collapsed into his hug, holding onto my brother tightly. "I can't...not yet," I whispered.

“So you plan on ignoring her for weeks until everything with D is over?” Nicholas shook his head, “We’re living with her now. You can’t just avoid her and you shouldn’t after everything she’s done for us.”

I stepped back from him and nodded in agreement, “I know; that’s why I’ve been considering...”

“Considering what?” Nicholas raised an eyebrow.

“A pharmacy robbery.”

“By yourself?” He chuckled, watching me carefully. “Are you serious?”

I heard Jolly laughing in the corner and gave him a sharp look.

“Of course I'm serious,” I shrugged. “But I could make a ton of money from this Vincent guy by getting pure drugs.”

“The last time you pulled off a big solo heist was when we got into this mess in the first place. You don't take on big jobs alone.”

The lights flickered around the room as I sat on the motel bed, my chest heaving with excitement. A seventeen-year-old Ruffilo sat beside me with the tattoo machine ready to brand my knuckles as twelve-year-old Folio watched eagerly.

“Today’s the day,” Jolly cheered, a wide smile stretching across his face as he threw a beer in my direction, “Our young padawan becomes a man.”

The can fumbled between my fingers as I looked down at it proudly, jittering with thrill. Jolly’s never let me drink before.

I opened the can in acceptance, hesitant to take the first sip with shaky hands, before bringing it up to my mouth. The beer was pungent and bitter, my lips puckering with furrowed brows; yeah, it was disgusting.

I tried to hide my distaste with a weak smile, “Yum.”

Jolly laughed, throwing his head back in amusement.

“You might want to chug it,” He said, taking a sip of his own beverage, “the knuckles hurt like a bitch.”

My eyes danced between him and the can as Nicholas and Nick began chanting, “Noah, Noah, Noah!”

Jolly joined with a raised fist, smiling with admiration as I chugged the drink, throwing the can to the floor in excitement as I stomped on it, the scream of elation ripping through my lungs as we all laughed. Nicholas hollered as he grabbed my shoulders, shaking me and I grinned, living within this moment of adventure.

“You ready?” Nicholas said, raising a quizzical brow as I began to feel the buzz. I nodded eagerly, throwing my hands in front of the table placed next to the bed.

Nicholas slid plastic gloves over his own tatted fingers before he wiped my knuckles with an alcohol wipe.

“There’s no going back,” He smiled as I sucked in a breath, anticipating the familiar scratching of the needle as it embedded the letters into my skin.

“Happy fourteenth birthday, baby bro,” Jolly walked over to me, patting my back. He handed me a crumbled paper bag, and with my free hand, I reached inside excitedly, pulling out the fabric.

I bit my lip as I tried to hide my smile but couldn’t. I was finally one of them.

“Your first mask.” Jolly nodded in approval. I tried pulling it over my head but couldn’t with one hand, so Jolly reached over, pulling it down over my face.

He bent down in front of me, his hand on top of my head as he shook me with fondness and it took everything in me not to cry with happiness at his praise.

That evening Nicholas wrapped my knuckles with black tape, protecting the freshly wounded skin. He went over the plan with Jolly, pointing towards the map indicating where I was to go, and where I would meet them after.

“This garage is filled with fancy as fuck cars,” Jolly nodded, leaning over the table, “so you have options. Don’t settle for any car, but don’t linger too long.”

“Remember, Kia’s and Hyundai’s are easier to hotwire, so you’ll have better luck getting in and out,” Nicholas said and I nodded as I jumped up and down, amping myself up.

“The alarms will go off almost immediately once you break in. People in this hotel get that shit valet, so someone is bound to notice right away.”

“Don’t forget, one, Underneath the steering wheel column find the wiring harness connector, Two, Pull aside the battery, ignition, and starter wire bundle, Three, Strip about 1 inch of the battery wires and twist them together. Fourth, Connect the ignition on/off wire to the battery wire.” Jolly listed and I nodded with each of his commands, reciting them back, “And don’t forget to break the steering lock or you won’t be able to drive.”

“Wire bundle, trip and twist, ignition to the battery,” I repeated, “Steering lock.”

+

“Well, I have no choice,” I threw my arms up, laughing, “What, you want me to ask Y/N then?”

Ask Y/N…

“No but-” Jolly started, but I interrupted him. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. She could be a diversion. A distraction in the plan.

“Y/N could be an extra body, and perhaps…” I trailed off, my mind wandering in thought. Yes, this was crazy; and the idea that followed even more so…but perhaps it could work.

“Okay,” Nicholas said as anger started bubbling from his tone as he watched me with disbelief, “And?”

“And,” I grabbed his shoulder as a smile wound up on my lips, “I can steal Y/N’s prescription while I’m there, and then replace her meds. So, she’ll never know.”

Nicholas rolled his head back in annoyance, almost laughing at my words, “Dude, you’re just going to dig yourself a hole here. You can’t be serious. Just tell her the truth about the fucking pills rather than getting her more involved.”

“I will eventually,” I sighed, “Just not now.”

“You do know how hard it is to steal from businesses alone versus a few houses here and there?” Jolly said as he scribbled in his notebook, “What is Y/N going to be able to do? Other than putting her and you in danger?”

“I have a plan,” I said, as I started pacing around the room.

“You’re considering her help? Are you fucking insane?” Jolly’s mouth hung open, “Du är en riktig klydderöv.” (You are an ass who likes to make things harder than they are)

“Listen,” I held my hands up in defence, but Nicholas threw his arms up.

“You can’t be serious; she could get hurt! You’re just using her?” he seethed.

“And you guys aren’t?” I laughed, pointing to the guitars and motioned around the room, “We are fucking freeloaders.”

“Aren't you worried about her getting injured?Caught? Better yet, Arrested?” Nick asked through clenched teeth. Why did he care so much?

“Of course I fucking am!” I growled, trying to not let any more guilt eat away at my insides, “I just want to have her as an extra body for that bit of fear factor. I don’t want her doing anything upfront or dangerous.”

“That’s still dangerous!” Nicholas exclaimed, “The fact she will be in that situation in the first place is not a good idea.”

I nodded in agreement, “I know. But what other choice do I have right now?” My eyes danced past each of the boys.

I knew this wasn’t the best idea, but my options were slim. I wanted to continue whatever was going on with Y/N- I didn’t want to feel this guilt, and if I was being honest with myself…

I was scared.

I was scared she wouldn’t see past my deceit, and I was scared she would hate me. That she wouldn’t forgive me.

I knew I had to make up for everything that had happened, but the first step was getting her proper medication back.

And to do that, I needed her help.

I wonder how How can it be that two souls live beneath my chest? I wander on Through the snowfall And the firestorm

“Let’s work on the song,” Folio changed the subject as the room heated, and I sighed heavily.

“Yeah, whatever,” I sat back on the mattress, pulling up the lyrics I wrote on my phone.

“Whatcha got Noah?” Jolly asked as he picked up the guitar.

“You've run out of luck, and I'm calling your bluff You stabbed me in the back, but not deep enough But not deep enough I see through you.” I hummed.

Jolly nodded as he tried to match the chords.

“Then the chorus, yada yada,” I said, eyes scanning my device as my thumb scrolled the screen.

“You said I'd never make it, you said I'd fall on my face But now I'm right where I belong, and I put you in your place You said I'd never make it, you said I'd make a mistake But now I'm right where I belong, and you've got nothing to say.”

Jolly eyed me briefly with a slight glare as I spoke, and I avoided his eyes.

“I like it,” Nicholas said, plucking the bass.

+++++

Y/N

With my fingers wrapped around the paper coffee cup, I sighed, fiddling with my keys to open the front door to my house.

Noah’s sudden distance made my chest clench in worry.

“look at me, show me those pretty eyes while I fuck your mouth,” he demanded and my lashes flicked up toward him, his body shuddering as I stared into him with complete greed.

The last time we spoke was that night.I chalked it up to him being busy paying back D, but I couldn’t help but feel slightly broken, and that it was my fault for his distance.

Doubt ate at my insides, beginning to regret inviting them into my home.

I wish I wasn't afraid of The haunted valley I wish I wasn't a failure

Maybe Noah saw how unwell I was, after the nightmare. Maybe this whole situation made him uncomfortable. I made him uncomfortable.

That nobody needs That nobody needs That nobody needs

I'm sure he heard me wake up screaming at night, and it hurt me to know that he wasn't the one who came running in to check on me. But that's okay, not that he had to. However, Nicholas was always there in a heartbeat. Living with the boys was easy, and I enjoyed spending game nights with Nick, Jolly, and Nicholas. Surprisingly, we got along well and I developed a close bond with Nicholas over the past few days. He must have noticed my internal struggle because he would often reassure me when I came home between shifts, rushing down to the basement with a cup of coffee to see Noah, only to be disappointed when he wasn't there.

“Hey,” Nicholas had waved, his gaze falling when he saw the coffee in my hands.

“Not home?” I asked, giving him a sad smile.

“No… I don’t know where he is either.”

I shared a curt nod before turning around to run back up the stairs.

“Y/N?” Nicholas called out before I took the first step up.

I stopped, sucking in a breath before sighing, “Did- did I do something wrong?” I asked, turning to look at him briefly.

Nicholas shook his head quickly, “No! No, of course not. You’ve done nothing but be kind to us.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m the problem? Did I scare him away?”

Nicholas’ shoulders dropped as he patted the seat on the couch next to him, pulling me into his side. I rested my head on his shoulder as he rubbed my arm warmly.

“Noah is a difficult creature,” He said, “But I haven’t seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.”

I sniffed, “Then why is he ignoring me?”

Nicholas stiffened at the question, and I tried to shrug it off, but I knew that he knew.

“I- he’s going through it. This is a lot of money for him to get himself, without any help.”

I pulled away from his hug, “I just wish he would let me help.”

I closed the door behind me, smiling down at Juice as he greeted me. I heard someone puttering in the kitchen and assumed it was Nicholas.

“Hey, Ruffilo-” I shouted, slipping off my shoes and prancing into the kitchen. I immediately gasped in surprise when it was not Ruffilo, but Noah, who sat at the table munching on a grilled cheese. Our eyes locked as we silently exchanged words, and my breath hitched in my throat. Why did I feel so nervous?

My face flushed with embarrassment as I stood frozen in place, staring at him for a moment too long before bowing my head in anxiety. My heart raced, and I couldn't help but want to stare at his perfect smile or the way his long hair framed his face.

"Hey," he said gently, his eyes burning into me as I placed my bag on the counter and took a deep breath. I tried to distract myself by placing his coffee on the counter and grabbing a cup from the cupboard to fill with water.

"How are you?" he asked, still gazing at me intensely. I hesitated before turning around, my back pressed against the counter as I let my eyes meet his. I couldn't help wondering why he suddenly wanted to talk to me after days of distance. Part of me wanted to walk away.

"Um," I took a slow sip of water, the cool liquid offering little relief from the tension between us, "I'm good. And you?"

He watched as I took another sip, his eyes scanning over the glass and my fingers wrapped around it. He hesitated before speaking again, as if afraid of what he was about to say.

"I'm okay," he began, trailing off before looking away, fixating on the ground as he spoke softly, "I've missed you."

My heart raced as he revealed his feelings, and I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. Part of me wanted to brush off his words, while the other part wanted to wrap my arms around him and give in to his touch. Did he truly miss me, or was he just trying to ease his guilt for being absent for the past few days? Regardless, the way my breath caught in nervous anticipation showed how thrilled I was to see him.

"I got your coffee..." I murmured, not sure what else to say as I turned and handed him the cup. Our fingers grazed each other lightly as we exchanged the drink, sending tingles up my arm and butterflies fluttering in my stomach - reminiscent of the day we first met.

He gave me a small smile and thanked me shyly, but I could sense that something else was on his mind as he took a sip.

For a brief moment, silence hung between us as unspoken thoughts danced in the air.

“I’ve missed you too,” I confessed quietly as my cheeks warmed, and I began playing with my fingers nervously.

Noah’s ears flushed with colour as he genuinely smiled, “Let me take you out tonight.”

“I- I have work,” I stammered, excitement replaced with disappointment.

“Call in. Let me take you on a date.” He shook his head as he took another sip, refusing to let down.

“I can’t afford to call in,” I gave him a sad smile, “But I would love to go out with you this weekend when I’m free?”

“I’ll give you the money then,” He stood up now, grabbing the glass from my hands before pulling my palms into his grasp, “Just let me treat you.”

His October eyes begged as they bore into me, trying to read my mind. I looked away, trying not to succumb to his silent plea but instead, I smiled, looking at our connected hands. Why was he suddenly being this way?

“Stop looking at me like that,” I laughed.

“Like what?” He teased, before sticking out his bottom lip, packing on the puppy dog eyes.  

“Like that!” I giggled, and Noah tugged on my arms, pulling them so they were wrapped around his body as he buried me in his chest.

I sunk into his arms in alleviation as we swayed in the kitchen to the beat of our hearts.

Part of me wanted to pull away, tempted to see if he would bring me back. The other part of me wanted to berate him for his attitude. Part of me wanted him to take me against the kitchen table. There were so many questions I wanted to ask him, but I didn’t want to ruin this moment together.

“I’m sorry I’ve been distant,” Noah whispered now, his voice vibrating from his chest as my cheek was pressed against his soft cotton t-shirt. I nodded against him in response, squeezing his torso as I closed my eyes, my mind beginning to overthink everything that’s happened between us.

I finally sucked in a breath, hesitant to ask, “Did I do something wrong?”

Noah immediately pulled me from his chest to look me in the eyes with a sullen expression, his hands cupping either side of my face, “You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re perfect.”

My eyes began to glaze over as my mind eased a little, and I chuckled softly, “Definitely not perfect.”

“Definitely are,” He whispered, hesitating once more before his broken eyes began analyzing my own. He made me feel like I had no reason to think he was lying. He made me feel perfect.

Noah watched me carefully before his eyes closed briefly. He sucked in a breath, hesitating, “I- I think there’s something wrong with me. I’m so lost right now.”

“I hope you know you can talk to me,” I matched his tone, my head tilting in empathy as we stood in the kitchen, holding each other. My fingers gripped onto the fabric of his shirt as I pulled him into another hug, embracing all his insecurities.

“I know,” He sighed, before masking his sorrows with a smile.

“Please come out with me,” He pulled away and pleaded again, the pad of his thumb beginning to graze across my cheekbone before tracing the outline of my lips, “I want to spend time with you. I want to hear your story.”

I smiled at his words, my breath catching in my throat as we watched each other, completely mesmerized as my eyes travelled across the outline of his ochre eyes. The slight stubble outlined his perfect lips that wrapped around the whites of his teeth as he smiled charmingly, and it left my palms sweating.

“You know plenty about me now,” He said gently, concentrated eyes devouring me, “So who are you?”

Subconsciously I began leaning in closer to his touch, our lips inches apart, “Why are you so convincing?” I whispered, the warmth of Noah’s breath cascading along my face.

“Ahem.”

I turned immediately at the cough, and Noah pulled away from me, staring back at the ground. I looked between him and Ruffilo, who stood leaning against the wall, watching Noah with analytical eyes.

“Hi, ruffles!” I then smiled warmly, confused at his interruption but happy to see him. He acknowledged me briefly, nodding in my direction before glaring daggers towards the brunette.

“A date?” Nicholas's eyebrows furrowed as he crossed his arms and spoke with a tone of accusation.

Noah gave him a sharp look and I glanced between the two of them, trying to make sense of their tense exchange.

Noah turned away from us, shaking his head. “It's none of your business.”

“It is my business now.” Nicholas stood up, positioning himself next to me in a protective manner.

I furrowed my brow and took a step back from Ruffilo. “Can someone please explain what's going on?”

A cynical smirk appeared on Ruffilo's face as he let out a quick laugh, scoffing at the brunette in front of him. “You didn't ask her where you really wanted to take her out, did you?”

Noah ran a hand over his face. “I was getting there.”

I looked between them again before turning my head towards Noah. “Where were you planning to take me?”

Noah licked his lips thoughtfully before turning to me. “I need your help.”

Chapter 8

Tags:@crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken

@princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant

@veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs

@flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls

@hoe-for-daddywise @philomenie @xxkittenkissesxx @venturethroughtheveil @thefallennightmare

@blend-in-with-the-madness @reyadawn @deathblacksmoke @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @rumoured-whispers @artificialbreezy

[vidimillion]

whats yr fav kingburu fic imo they are the peak of jasico i keep rereading rewrite the stars

sorry I took so long to get to this!! It's actually been forever since I last read all the kingburu fics but they've all left such an impact on me it's still so hard to pick...

genuinely EVERY jasico kingburu fic is an excellent idea w excellent execution. I have SO MUCH to say 😭

everyone and their mother knows and loves rewrite the stars, ESPECIALLY ME, and it's absolutely my ideal, most beloved pre-hoo fic ever. set a standard for every pre-hoo fic before and after it. a life changing fic.

the one I reread most recently is over the rainbow and the dearly departed universe hasn't left my brain in like a year. I genuinely still think about that AU just randomly sometimes. The differences in the universes, the SIMILARITIES, all the ways they could and do compare.... If dearly departed universe had 14 more books I'd read them all. siamo nei guai is also amazing but I just generally live for godswap aus.

if I had to name a favorite, in the depths of elysium and the til we grow old universe is NUMBER ONE. sorry everyone and everything idc this is one of the greatest jasico fics in history. I've genuinely never forgotten jason being taught plant magic by persephone for even a moment of my life since reading. Every time I'm not writing an AU I want to include almost everything in this fic. The underworld family relationships, Jason being adopted by Hades and Persephone, learning plant magic, changing the underworld for the better... I would make it all canon if I could. I said this before but genuinely the greatest gift ever given to the jasico fandom.

I can't believe it took me so long to mention threads that bind?? I loved this one SO much and though next gen fics aren't usually my thing, genuinely I feel like if I ever write a next gen fic it would be wrong to not have Sion. He fits so perfectly in the world, the story is so well crafted, and I love the relationship formed in this fic. This is also one of the very very rare occasions that I managed to enjoy amnesia trope.

Honourable mentions!! he's the earth and heaven (or whatever) is a beautiful ancient greece AU. Nico seeing Jason for the first time in Demeter's garden... Can you tell I'm obsessed with Hades-Persephone parallels? a pretty face series is AMAZING, I love son of Aphrodite Jason!!!

You know I'm a FAN fan when I've loved almost the entire kingburu bibliography. Kingburu has a stronger impact on my brain chemistry than Rick Riordan. I know this whole post is super dramatic but I can't help it, it's insane of me to say but they genuinely impacted me so hard. I hope they live as a millionaire for like a thousand years.

[mi-i-zori]

Writing Resources - Masterlist

This masterlist will host the links to the posts and threads I've saved as writing resources. None of them are mine - all the credits go to the amazing people who made them.

Characters

Author, Narrator, Protagonist, Hero... Who is What ?

Creating Black Characters With Intent

Describe Your Main Character Sheet

Emotionally Reserved Characters

Flaws to Give to Your Characters

How to Introduce Your Character In 3 Steps

How to Show Emotions (They have a whole series for this, please go check it out !)

How to Write a Character Who's in Pain

How to Write Trauma With Humanity

OC Asks that Reveal More than You Think

Open Letter from a Poc for People Who Are Writing Characters of Colour

Questions for Crafting Problematic Characters

Tips : Nail Your Character's Mannerisms and Speech Pattern Down

Top-Tier Villain Motivations

What Will Your Character Do If...

Fantasy

Fantasy Guide to Education

Make and Interesting Wedding Dress in Your Fantasy Setting

Reasons Why Can't Your Characters Use Magic To Fix Everything

Some Locations and Structures to Include in Your Forest

What No One Tells You About Writing Fantasy

Good to Know

A quick Guide to Animal Symbolism

An Introduction to Small World Theory

Differences Between UK and USA Military Dog Tags

How Boat Pronouns Work

Medical Facts that are Commonly Overlooked

Medieval Dyes

Playing Music With a Bow! (The Archery Kind)

Realistic Travel Time

Roles on a Pirate Ship

Slater's Impromptu List of Military Reference Material

Sick/Poisoning Fics

Stop Doing This in Injury Fics !

Symbolism in Writing

The Anatomy of Passing Out : When, Why and How to Write It

The Anatomy of Punching a Character in the Face

The Symbolism of Flowers

Ultimate List of Weapons and Arsenal for Fantasy Setting: Purpose and Who Uses Them

What's the Deal With Archers and Animal Companions ?

Writing Notes : Herbal Remedies

Writing Reference : Medicinal Herbs

Horror

Creepy Things to Add to Settings

Horror and Comedy : 90/10 rule

How to Write Creepy Stories

How To Scare Your Readers

Most Common Character Flaws in Horror Fiction

"Never Were" and "Used to Be" Monsters

People Get Eldritch Madness Wrong

Romance

When the Romantic Tension is High

Tips

If You're Starving in a Post-Apocalyptic Fic

How to Figure Out if an Image is AI Generated

How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff

Pep-Talk - You Are Allowed to Be Proud of What You Write + List of YT Channels and Amazon Links for Writing

Resources About Survival in the Wild

Skip Google for Research

Some Writing Advice

The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity

Write Smarter, Not Harder

Writing Tip : Research

Vocabulary

Aesthetic Words to Fill Up Your Vocabulary

Archaic Words for Colors

Archaic Words for Hate

Bilingual Characters - German Edition

CoD - Spanish for Ale and Rudy Fics

Colours in Descriptions

IRL Operator Phrases/Terms - USA Edition

Gemstone Colors

German Pet Names

List of Wikipedia Articles - British and American Words and Differences

Scottish Phrases and Words for Soap MacTavish (or Scottish Characters in general)

Soft-Feeling Latin Words and Phrases

On Using Words that Indicate Sounds and Tones for Dialogues

Words to Use Instead of "Running"

Words to Use Instead of "Sighed" and "Frowned"

Writing Russian-Speaking Characters

Voices

A Guide to Write a Mancunian Accent

Growled, Roared, Snarled, Etc... A Brief Description

Writing Character Accents in Fiction

Worldbuilding

A Website That Walks You Through Creating a Believable Society

List of Random Things to Add to your Dark Coastal Settings

List of unique and imaginative types of government that can add depth to your fantasy world

Random Linguistic Worldbuilding

10 Worldbuilding Aspects you Probably Overlooked

Other

Backup Your Tumblr Blog

Disable Recall for Microsoft's Copilot+ PCs

How to Find a Post on Tumblr

How to Revert Back to an Old Version of Office that Doesn't have CoPilot

How to Turn Off AI Bots on Microsoft Word

Protect Your Stories on AO3

Show Me a 10ft Paywall, I'll Show You a 12ft Ladder

Mii's Blog Recommendations

@deception-united - I love the resources this person shares ! They have a masterpost that lists their useful posts, but they also complete some of these posts as answers to asks and reblog a lot of other resources.

@leisureflame - This blog has a lot of resources, advice and prompts ! The author also offers to help with other people's struggles too, which is immensely wholesome in itself.

@writers-potion - This blog has tons of amazing posts to help writers with their research. I keep coming back to it, and highly recommend checking it out ! Here are this person's extremely useful Masterpost (1) and Masterpost (2).

[socialfauxpa]

2024 Book Wrap Up

Managed to read through 69 books* this year. My average rating for the year was 4.47 haha I'm not the biggest critic of anything. I rated 9 books 5 stars and have included some specific thoughts about them all under the cut.

Feel free to follow me on The Storygraph if you'd like real time updates on what I'm reading through out the year.

*Including comics and text based RPG novels.

5 Star Reads Reviews Under the Cut:

He Who Drowned the World by Shelley Parker-Chan

My first read this year and probably one of my favourites. Part of The Radiant Emperor Duology following Zhu Yuanzhang and her rise to power following She who became the sun.

I LOVE this series and recommend it to everyone, I will be re-reading them in the future, Zhu is maybe one of my favourite characters ever. How can you support women's rights if you don't support women's wrongs.

Loved everything about this book the characters the pacing the way it ties up some of the dangling threads from She who became the sun.

One of the things that I LOVE about this series is Shelley Parker-Chan's exploration of gender, societal roles and the gender dynamics in their historical fantasy. It is SO delicious. The idea of like recognizing like and being able to find happiness in it or exploiting it for personal gain makes me CRAZY

Who doesn't love reluctant allies due to the babygirlification beam of the first novels central antagonist.

Both She Who Became the Sun and He Who Drowned the world are fantastic audio books Natalie Naudus is fantastic and I loved the vocal tones she would use for each characters in their various gender expressions.

Ancillary Mercy by Ann Leckie

The thrilling conclusion to the Imperial Radch trilogy. Breq was a space ship, due to circumstances outside her control, she isn't any longer and its everyone else's problem.

I really loved this series, there's really something so lovely about the concept of a machine that cares so deeply about its humans that it is willing to tear every ounce of itself out to help them. Especially when its humans wont let them.

I really loved this book and the way it concluded the Radch trilogy. Something something finding community and helping what you can and protecting each other from what you can not.

The Unbroken and The Faithless by C.L. Clark

Books 1 and 2 of the Magic of the Lost trilogy.

These books consumed me. I LOVE them.

I read the unbroken in 2022 and re-read in 2024 when The Faithless came out, and its SUCH a banger will be re reading again.

Characters and world building is INSANE. Very high fantasy politics and drama with a back bone in French colonialism of Northern Africa. I really loved this setting as its super different from a lot of the other high fantasy series I've read in the past.

Touraine and Luca's relationship and dynamics make me insane. What if we each others only salvation and path forward but continuing to use and be used by one another is flaying an exposed nerve that may cause not only our destruction, but will break the peace we have managed to broker between our two nations at great personal expense.

I LOVE the magic system C.L. Clark has created in this universe its so meaty (pun intended) and I am desperate to know how this series ends.

Highly recommend the Audio book of these as well. Rasha Zamamiri's performance is INCREDIBLE. The way she plays not only Touraine and Luca, but all the characters like Jaghotai and Djasha adds so much depth and richness to the story.

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet by Becky Chambers

LOVE LOVE LOVE this book, I've been working my way though the Wayfarers series whenever I need a book I know I will love.

I re-read LWTSAP before reading A Closed and Common Orbit this year. CCO is a fantastic heartbreaking read I would absolutely recommend as well but it didn't quite hit the same as the first.

Can't recommend this novel enough I once described it to a friend as "what you remember liking the most about Firefly, with the lived in grungy alien world building and crew dynamics of mass effect 2" and I stand by that haha.

The Prospects by KT Hoffman

Loved this gay a hell baseball romance.

It really hit when I needed something lovely and happy with good romance and tension not about being gay in sports but about being good enough at the sport you love to continue to do it after the summer I had (woof).

You go funky little trans baseball man and you climb that tall man like a tree good for you gene.

We love a teammates, to rivals, to teammates (again), to reluctant friends, to lovers story line.

I loved this book enough I actually thought about watching baseball but I did manage to repress that urge and funneled the energy into watching the PWHL.

Cleat Cute by Meryl Wilsner

Loved this gay as hell soccer romance.

The third? sports romance and second Meryl Wilsner I read this year and 100% my favourite.

I really thought the pacing of this was really well done and the romance between Grace and Phoebe was so lovely. I really loved the exploration of fame and how it impedes someones ability to truly be themselves. I'm also a sucker for a "wait this person is just willingly giving out their love no strings attached??? That cant be right, they must want something from me" trope.

Who doesn't love a golden retriever newbie helping the black cat veteran finding the joy in the game again, they also fuck nasty about their problems.

Boy howdy Meryl Wilsner can write sex scenes too, the locker room scene was both unexpected and gorgeous.

Mistakes Were Made by Meryl Wilsner

The third Meryl Wilsner I read this year. LOVED.

I'm so hype for her Meryl Wilsner's new book coming out in April 2025.

I read this one on my phone on a plane to LA this Halloween and loved every second of it.

The concept of Cassie meeting her freshman best friend's recently divorced mom in bar before she knew who she was, then continuing to "date" her hooked me and I had such a fun time reading this.

I loved that the narrative tension didn't come from the illicit nature of the romance causing issues. But was really just a straight forward romance novel about two people falling in love without realizing it, and the miscommunication that follows when you love someone you "aren't actually dating". Incredible.

Paladin's Strength by T. Kingfisher

Probably one of my favourites of the year. I LOVED THIS BOOK

The second novel in the The Saint of Steel series. I loved all the saint of steel novels in this series but Paladin's Strength REALLY HIT.

I though the fantastical world building, the mystery and magic from the first novel really got turned up to eleven in this one. For my money this novel was perfectly paced and balanced with the romance between Clara and Istvhan.

The idea of a paladin whose god has died and now they need to find something new to devote themselves too is DELICIOUS.

I'm a sucker for a lover and a beloved narrative especially where neither one thinks they are worthy of the other's love (they are).

Another fantastic audio book. I listened to it twice before it went back to the library. Joel Richards' narration of these books really adds a fantastic richness to each of the Paladins and I really really loved his performance of Istvhan.

[emerald-onion]

Three Birds On A Wire - Chapter 2 (WIP)

Once again, a little snippet for the next chapter!

"After the assassination of his parents, His Majesty, XGaster the Emperor, was declared the youngest ruler in our Empire's history." In the silence of the palace's classroom, no sound can be heard but the steady scratching of chalk against blackboard and a middle-aged woman's droning lecture. "At the current time, many high-ranking nobles had protested against the decision, claiming that His Majesty was too inexperienced to take over the crown, but our Emperor proved them wrong with his many achievements merely one year later, including the co-invention of the portable magic scrolls, the complete eradication of the Temper of Destruction, and the treaty he drafted with Lady Nim, Highest Order of the Faery Court."

Marchioness Galett's voice is as gentle as gossamer threads, and yet they draw you in just as effortlessly. It is one of the many qualities Frisk admires about her, the way she so easily makes others dance to her silk-woven words, gliding across the political world with the graceful steps of a silent predator. Despite being the female head of a noble household, she has accumulated enough power and influence to make everyone think twice before they dare to become her enemy.

His teacher is absolutely terrifying, and Frisk thinks she is the coolest person he has ever met.

However, while the Prince would normally gladly let himself be led by spider strings, right now, the thoughts inside his head are simply too heavy for the threads to hold onto.

Today is the weekend. The day Chara, Cross, and he agreed to sneak out of the castle.

Still, hesitation is a turbulent ocean inside of him, drowning out any courage or determination in its deathly cold grip. What if something goes wrong? What if they stumble upon yet another group of child traffickers? What if one of the servants notices their disappearance? What if Father finds out and oh All Creator he will be so disappointed this is a terrible idea-

"His Highness?"

The soft chide pulls Frisk from the endless depth of his thoughts. He sucks in a sharp breath, hoping to calm his raging anxiety, and drags up a strained grin from the bottom of his stomach. "Yes, Madame?"

"I've been calling your name for the past ten minutes now." The Marchioness says, and although there is no anger behind her words, Frisk still finds himself shrinking, swallowing a mouthful of shame. "Is there anything troubling you, little Prince?"

A part of him wants to tell her everything, to spill out all the doubt and worry and terror before he can choke on them.

The other part remembers the hope unfurling across his twin brother's face, weak and fragile, yet blooming so beautifully, so vibrantly.

And Frisk will do anything to keep that hope alive.

So, instead of the reassurances he desperately seeks, the Prick plucks the first thing that across his head and lets it tumble out. "Can you tell me more about the Witch of Fables?"

Lady Galett, clever as she is, sees his question as the deflection it is. But because she is his favorite teacher, and he, her favorite student, she does not push him any further, instead electing to hum deliberately.

"I see you've met Ink."

Surprise overtakes his nervousness. "You know them?"

"Of course. As rare as their visits may be, Ink is the Emperor's closest friend. It would be quite idiotic had I not known about them." It's important to watch out for important players on the board, little Prince. One of her earliest lessons echoes. "They've been around for a long, long time. Before you were born. Before I married the Marquess myself."

Frisk's curiosity rears its head. "What do you think about them?"

The Marchioness's many eyes peer right through him, and he unconsciously straightens beneath that considering gaze. "What do you think about them?"

"Well..." He meticulously picks apart his memories, unwilling to disappoint his teacher. "Chara made them to be this fearsome and powerful figure, but from what I've seen, they seem like a... Pardon my language, but they seem like a bumbling idiot."

"Is that all?" She asks, her lips curling into a secretive smile. "Haven't you noticed anything else?"

Frisk scrambles to find a correct answer, but they keep slipping away from his grasp. "Are you suggesting that their foolish act is a pretense?"

"Oh, little Prince, Ink's personality is in no way false." She tuts. "And it's what makes them so horrifying."

He frowns, struggling to see the complete puzzle. But with every piece that slots into place, the picture keeps on shifting, twisting, changing in front of his very eyes, a bucket overflowing with colorful paints until you cannot figure out which is which.

"I'm not sure I understand..."

"Think about it, little Prince, in the short period of time you've known them, have you ever managed to predict their actions? Have you ever truly understood their drive? Their goal? Their weaknesses?"

Realization slowly trickles in, watering a thing full of thorns. "No. No, I haven't."

"Exactly." Lady Galett's expression is as composed as ever, but having known her ever since he was a child, Frisk can see the irritation seeping through her clenched teeth. She has always hated what she cannot control. "Ink is powerful, that, you can deal with. However, they're also unpredictable. They don't follow the same morals and social standards that we follow. They don't have the same greed and pride that we have. What motivates them? What angers them? What is the reason for their interest in us? We have no clue."

She heaves out a sigh, one heavy with the weight of trepidation.

"With someone like that, how can we be so sure that they won't turn their back on us for no reason other than their own entertainment?"

Frisk does not answer. Cannot, really. Silence settles over them, a Damocles's blade ominously swaying back and forth.

With someone like that, how can we be so sure that they won't turn their back on us for no reason other than their own entertainment?

Even after class has long ended, Lady Galett's words still linger inside his mind.