#usually in a case like this. if the most well-known image of someone is this fuck ugly

[britneyshakespeare]

I feel bad for Margaret of York that this portrait is always used to represent her

fuck ass proportions!!!

[cacoetheswriting]

honesty: the music video

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 2.3k summary: after a long day on set, you can't wait to get it on with your costar.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: mature themes, literally smut with a minor plot, established relationship, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, praise kink, dom-ish eddie, adult language, heavy use of pet names, mentions of aftercare — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

celebrity skin. masterlist <- part of this lil' universe, but can totally be read as a stand-alone. timeline wise, this takes place somewhere after part 3 and before end part 5.

“We want it to be sexy.”

“But not too sexy.”

“Revealing.”

“But not too revealing.”

“Sounds like you guys don’t know what you want,” Eddie chimes in, interrupting the back and forth of your respective teams.

You stifle a giggle.

“That’s ‘cause of the two distinct styles,” someone from your team clarifies, “We wanna be respectful.”

“For sure,” one of the creatives on the Corroded Coffin side agrees. There’s a short pause. “We will have you two kiss at the end, though.”

At that, Eddie smirks. He looks at you from across the table and you could just about melt right there, blood rushing to your face, warming your cheeks.

“That won’t be a problem,” he says confidently and winks.

-

Honesty was a guaranteed hit. Top of the charts. Everybody that’s been so far involved in the project said it. They praised it. From the bass, drums, to the guitar and vocals. The production value was off the scale. A dream arrangement that would stand the test of time.

All the song needed was a music video equally as captivating.

A back and forth discourse began shortly after you first started recording with the band: whose style should the clip resemble more?

Corroded Coffin screamed all things dark, maybe a little gory. Their usual expression featured slightly melancholy undertones and a lot of references to all things Dungeons & Dragons. Imaginative, for sure. An artistry that had rarely been seen in the genre. 

Although it’s been an artistry vastly different from yours. 

The glitter hadn’t necessarily been your idea, but it certainly became a signature of sorts. Anything sparkly, always. And music videos that told a story. Most often one of love since that’s what you idolised ever since you were a kid — it obviously helped that love also sold millions of copies.

Eddie’s team argued that it’s the band’s song and you’re just a feature, therefore the accompanying video should lean into their style. Your management team was hesitant to agree. Calculating risk in case the lines get blurred a little too much and your pristine image shifts to the opposite end of the spectrum. Hours of arguments. Hours of negotiations. None of which you, or the rockstar were even mildly aware of. Too lost in each other's eyes and soft cotton sheets. 

Eventually, a compromise, of sorts, was found.

Ernest Hemingway’s The Killers influenced, in part, a 1946 film noir of the same title, with Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster taking the lead. The movie, in turn, inspired the black and white music video.

Done up in flair of the characters, Kitty Collins and Ole Anderson (aka Swede), you recreated iconic scenes alongside the brown-eyed rockstar. The rest of the band was also dressed to the nines. Side characters that played their instruments in the background of main shots. They blended in well, while adding a unique spin to the known story. 

Overall, the Honesty shoot quickly became a big spectacle. Bigger than anything Eddie Munson and his band of closest friends has ever been lucky enough to be a part of.

Intricate sets. Glamourous. In front of cameras and bright lights, you and your scene partner, Eddie, mouthed along the lyrics to the song as if they were a script. And with every scene, as if the two of you were the only people actually there, no equipment and no crew, you got lost a tiny bit. Lost in the chocolate of the rockstar’s wide gaze. In the way he smelled. The style of that decade suited the brunette greatly, so you became lost in how he looked in this character. Dapper. Unlike you’ve ever witnessed him before. He committed to the role too. A certain swag in his movements. How he touched you so hesitantly, delicately because that’s what the video required.

By the end of the night, after the director yells, “Cut!” to signalise a wrap, a round of applause for all involved in this project, you’re feeling hot and bothered. Sweaty, though not because you just completed a full day’s work. No. Somehow, you found the Corroded Coffin frontman even more attractive than at the start of that day — something you didn’t think was possible. When you glance in his direction, he’s already staring you down, and you know he feels the same way.

Backstage, inside your trailer, you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch. Fingertips at your lips as you wait for that inevitable knock on your door. You know it’s only a matter of time considering the build up of tension throughout the shoot. From the lingering touches and that kiss the director had you two repeat over and over and over…

Logically, you could wait until the two of you were home. Back at Eddie’s Hidden Hills mansion, away from prying eyes and ears. In a bed that’s become all too familiar. Far from possible interruptions. Logic however, well, right now, logic was taking a back burner ‘cause you needed him now. Desperately. And without a doubt, Eddie needed you too.

A knock. Then again. But the rockstar doesn’t wait for you to answer. He lets himself in. 

“What happened to the wig?” You ask, raising a brow.

“It was itchy,” he replies with a slight laugh, then shakes his head. “I much prefer my natural locks.” 

“That’s too bad,” you say with a slight shrug, “You looked quite smart with that short hair.”

Eddie hangs his head with a smile, though his eyes don’t leave yours. Not even for a second. That’s when you notice the glimmer. That look, the reason he’s here, just like you predicted. So you return the expression. Only yours is a little more sly. Tempting him. Teasing. 

“I had fun today.”.

“Me too.”

There’s a lot that happens in the seconds after you stand up. A lot that happens quickly. 

Eddie reaches for your wrist, pulling you closer before wrapping his, for once, ringless hand around yours completely. He presses it to the middle of his chest, holding it against his heart. You can feel it beating and that’s enough to make you melt ‘cause it’s strong and you swear it skips at the contact. His other hand reaches for the base of your throat. He holds it gently, caressing upwards until he’s gripping your jaw. 

“Kissing you in front of all those other people kinda got me going,” he admits in a low tone.

Naughty, that’s what you want to say, but you don’t get the chance ‘cause his lips crash into yours. Hungry. Desperate. Rough. Heat rushes through your body at the sudden contact, no different than any other time his mouth found yours. You’re at his mercy, always, and he knows it well. 

His tongue glides along your top lip and you part your lips to accept him without hesitation. He wastes no time sliding into your mouth, letting this tongue work in tandem with yours as he tilts his head to further deepen the kiss. The hand holding yours lets go, instead finding home on the small of your back, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible. His other hand lets go of your jaw, albeit not completely. Ghosting along the side of your neck before you feel him wrap it around your throat, squeezing lightly. It’s nothing new for Eddie to be a little rougher with you, but there’s something about this moment, after a full day of moderate teasing and borderline foreplay, that causes a moan to burst through you when he squeezes again, only harder.

The rockstar pulls back, sporting a devilish grin. “Making such pretty noises for me and we haven’t even gotten to the best part.”

“Do your worst, Eds.” It’s a dare. Nothing sweet about it.

He smirks at the challenge and before you can register what exactly is happening, Eddie is lifting you up swiftly, hiking up your dress in the process, only to drop you down onto the sofa with a gentle thud. You’re wide-eyed as he unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other tugging at the pantyhose the wardrobe lady had you wear for the last scene of the video. He partially rips them off of you, then he hikes his index finger along the band of your underwear, eagerly pulling them down your legs until they’re wrapped around your ankles, with the reminisce of your stockings.

“The heels stay on,” the rockstar instructs, pushing your legs apart with force and positioning himself in between. All you can do is nod. Half-naked, half in costume. Same as him.

In the space of a heartbeat, his lips are on yours again. This time they don’t stay for long, instead moving downwards towards your chest. When he squeezes your breast through the silk material of your dress, he compliments how fucking good you looked, “I wanted to ravish you the second I saw you, baby.”

You whimper at his words, and at the fact that his now freed cock is gently brushing against your wet folds. Not quite breaching, just teasing you further. Only adding to the overall stimulation. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot. So fucking pretty. And all mine.” Eddie’s breathing into your bare chest ‘cause somehow in the moment your dress has slipped down ever so slightly and your tits made an appearance. Fingers from one hand are digging into your hip, holding you in place, while the other has you by the ribs. Thumb brushing your soft skin while his hot mouth is sucking on your hardened nipple.

Your eyes are closed. You’re not sure when you closed them. He’s invading your senses all at once. Just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, when you want to whither and plead for him to touch you where you need him most, Eddie plunges himself into you without warning and your eyes snap open. 

“Oh God…” he groans, drawing his hips back only to slam them in again, making your body bounce against him. “Fuck, baby. Jesus.”

You sob in pleasure as Eddie knocks the wind out of you with each relentless thrust, still increasing his speed. Heavy panting and grunting fills the trailer, along with the sounds of where his cock slams against your sweet juices. He’s sitting straight now. Eyes are fixated on the mess you’re both making, where his length disappears in and out of you, while you admire the way his locks fall naturally in place. Although briefly, ‘cause you’re arching your back the next second, rolling your eyes to the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all stretched open like this, sweetheart. Your pussy was made for my cock, baby. You take it so well. You take this big dick so well, my good girl. Fucking made for me. Ain’t that right, dollface?”

“Made for you, Eds.” You just about whisper back, nodding your head feverishly.

Slap. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you practically wail. “That’s right,” he praises, “Made for me. So fucking tight for me.” Slap. Slap. Slap. 

Eddie’s cock starts to swell. You can feel it expand inside of you, then again when he thrusts back in. It has you heaving. The speed he’s established is close to becoming a little too much for the two of you and he drops his weight slightly, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his bare back. He can sense that you too are close and he’s trying hard to hold back, make this moment last longer, but his body refuses to slow down. Chasing the way your glistening pussy chokes his length. 

“Where do you want me baby?”

“Inside,” you croak out. “Cum in me, Eddie. Please. I need you to fill me up.”

“M’mph—” He chokes out, movements growing more and more erratic. The whole trailer is shaking at this point, that’s what it feels like to the two of you anyway. “Everybody out there will know what a good little slut you are. Not that innocent. Wanting me to fill you full of my cum, fuck.” 

Slap. Slap. Against your thigh. 

“Please, Eddie.” 

Slap.

“Shh… I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” He coos, “Gonna pump you full. Gonna make you see stars while my cum drips out of you.”

That’s when you shatter around him, uncontrollable desperate squeals making him groan louder as he continues. It’s sloppy, messy, and once you’ve completely unravelled underneath him, the rockstar can’t contain himself any longer. He lets out a broken moan as ropes and ropes of his warm spend start to throb into your hole.

His body gives up at the last spur and he drops flat on top of you, although not without a loose kiss placed to your jaw. His cock remains inside of your pussy. You can feel it pulsing until, after a few minutes, it no longer matches the beat of your heart.

Eddie lifts himself then. He kisses you softly and you smile against his mouth. When he eventually slips out and stands, he tells you not to move, that he’ll grab a towel from the small trailer bathroom and will help you get cleaned up.

“Wardrobe is going to kill us,” you call after him, balancing on your elbows as you sit up slowly. “Pretty sure these clothes can never be worn again. Purely for the fact that they reek of sex.”

“At least your wig stayed in place,” Eddie points out lightheartedly when he returns, his pants once again buckled, a towel in his hand. “That’s something the hair and makeup team should be proud of.”

“I’ll be sure to tell them,” you say, meaning it as a joke ‘cause there’s no way you would ever admit to what sins the two of you just committed.

Eddie smirks. “Pretty sure they already know,” he says as if it’s no big deal, “We weren’t exactly quiet, sweetheart.”

as always, thank you for reading! pls comment, reblog & support your creators.

celebrity skin. masterlist | the killers (1946) reference

& the celebrity skin. taglist: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills - (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

[dduane]

...So once again it's the time of year when I return to this piece of digital art (or its earlier versions), tweak it a little in the attempt to get closer to what I see in my head, and repost it for Pride. (ETA, 3 June 2024: image tweaked a little bit more via late-night re-render because the upholstery wasn't rendering correctly, and as a result the kitty sort of vanished. Which would not be at all her style...)

At the moment I'm looking at These Two Idiots (for so they are) and considering with the usual bemusement how long I've been working with them. Of all the characters I've worked with in print, the only ones I've known longer would be the crew of NCC-1701—and very shortly now, for the first time as paid writing, a couple of gentlemen named Holmes and Watson.

I first "met" these guys in late 1970 in the form of the fellow college students on whom they'd be based: a couple of gents (not gay, as it happens) who were friends to me when I needed some. They were a tall dark guy and a short blond one with a mustache that came and went... so that, not even knowing the word "trope" at the time, I fell headfirst into one.

Less than a year after I met them, I changed educational tracks and schools, and we all drifted apart. But something about them stuck. The nature and depth of their friendship was unusual. So was one way it manifested itself: in ruthless snark that had no meanness or cruelty about it whatsoever—just affection.

In the late sixties I'd begun writing some very derivative fic strongly influenced by Tolkien. Rather to my surprise, though, as I started nursing school in 1971, the nature of that fiction started to change, and began rearranging itself around two characters who had a friendship like those of my college friends. With them as its core, a rather different kind of medieval-ish fantasy world started knitting itself together from various scraps of themes and imagery lying around in the back of my brain.

Even so early in the construction phases of this world, something the characters quickly made plain to me in the writing was that their relationships with one another were not what mainstream 1970s culture would consider conventional. They were gay... but that was a background issue,* and not at all the most important thing in their lives. They had far more important business to deal with—as became clear as their personalities and priorities started filling themselves out in the foreground.

One of them turned out to be the deliberate, analytical, methodical son of a provincial nobleman, all too aware of the expectations of those around him: that he might well eventually wind up running that province himself. Yet at the same time he also became aware that he had other problems, chief among them the discovery of a nascent power that would kill him young if he couldn't master it. And in the last thousand years, no one of his gender ever had.

The other presented himself more and more clearly as a difficult case: someone who wanted very much to be good at the family business, but wasn't... and knew it. Kind of a screw-up, repeatedly doing the wrong things for what he was sure were the right reasons. Yet, no matter how often he screwed up, he was also the kind of person who keeps picking himself up and trying again, because he's been told over and over that that's what people like him have to do: otherwise they're no use to anybody.

Imagine my shock when I realized that these two men—initially canonically enemies in their adolescence, then best friends as they grew, and eventually much more—were the (incomplete) answer to the question I'd once asked my Mom at the end of the bedtime reading of some fairy tale or other: "Why can't a prince rescue another prince?" Because one of them got himself more than once into situations where he really needed one kind or another of rescuing. The other one obliged him, while once or twice getting rescued himself. Those interlocking patterns started to solidify out of concept and into character detail and plot, while their world grew and proliferated into its own detail around them.

Then, without warning, in 1978 both world and characters decided they were ready to get real. I was abruptly dragged gasping and flailing under the surface of a novel that would begin the tale of what those two characters had yet to become. The period it took to produce that first draft was possibly the most interesting six weeks of my life... and that includes the six weeks during which I first scrubbed in on brain surgery. Day and night, for days at a time, I barely even existed except as something for a novel to come out of. When it was done with me, it just as abruptly dumped me back into my life and wandered away, leaving me staring around, blinking and wondering if anybody’d got the number of that truck. Nothing like it has ever happened to me since, which may be just as well. I’m none too sure that these days I could handle the strain.

The book—which sold a couple of weeks after it landed on its first publisher's desk—kicked off my career as novelist and screenwriter, and in its way proved that the world was at least somewhat ready for epic fantasy in which the basic culture was pansexual, polyamorous, and inclusive in ways that hadn't been attempted before.

So I owe them a debt, those two gentlemen up there: the tall dark curly-haired guy with the amateur strategist's mind, the blacksmith's shoulders, and the peculiar sword, his background thought always nibbling away at the question of how to heal the world's wounds: and the short fair gent who if he could would stay at home, live quietly in town, and work in the local library... except for when saving the world (or his found family) requires him to subsume his being into that of his ancestral demigod. Due to the success of the book in which they made their debut, these two became, in their way, the fairy† godfathers of the Young Wizards—and additionally enabled all that Star Trek fanfic I'd started writing a decade before to proceed to its logical conclusion.

More to the point, though, a lot of people in the 1980s and '90s who'd never seen queer representation in a fantasy novel, found it first, or at last, while following Herewiss and Freelorn down their road. It's been my pleasure to hold that space for new readers, and keep adding to it... because (if you ask me) it's needed more now than ever.

So, to the readership of the Middle Kingdoms works—now pushing half a century old—and everybody else who's celebrating the season: happy Pride!

*Not least because everybody else in their world is (at least potentially) some shade of queer, including God.

†(snicker)

[mrshesh]

omg can you write how the 141 would react to fem reader (who never wears makeup or dresses up) who has to dress up for a mission at the club? AHGFJ i cant get this out of my head bro im weeping gaz would go RED

"how do i look?" - task force 141 x reader

overview: task force 141 reacting to you getting dolled up for a mission

pairing: task force 141 x fem reader, romantic

genre: fluff, spice

a/n: hi anon! YOU'RE SO RIGHT ABOUT GAZ 😭 i loooove this scenario a lot. thanks for the request! i hope you love it teehee :) (and omg johnny's eyes i'm giggling)

x simon "ghost" riley

When Simon’s assigned to go on this mission with you, he’s already cursing under his breath. Clubs have never been his forte–the loud music and crowded, drug and alcohol-filled atmosphere isn’t exactly something he’s comfortable with. 

And the fact that you’re supposed to go as his date isn’t helping his case either. 

Simon has always had a thing for you. He loves many things about you, but he adores that you stay true to yourself most of all. You always do what you want, never putting in unnecessary energy to please others. He can relate to that–it feels nice to have someone who understands. 

And that is one of the reasons why you never wear makeup or dress up. You don’t feel like you have to–not for yourself, not for anyone else. 

So he doesn’t know what to expect when he’s standing outside, waiting for you to finish getting ready so you can head out with him. 

He’s waiting anxiously, standing with his hands in the pocket of his black hoodie. He finds you beautiful either way, of course. You could be in the most ridiculous outfit known to man, and he’d still be completely enamored by you. But it’s only natural for him to get a reaction to you being all dolled up, right? Anyhow, he’s hoping that he won’t. 

“Sorry, I took so long!” You exclaim, running out to him after a few minutes, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

The second Simon looks up to meet your eyes, his eyes widen. You look so pretty, so new and confident. He has never seen you this dressed up before, so it’s still kind of weird to him, but you look so gorgeous he can’t take his eyes off you. 

“How do I look?” You ask, smiling at him and giving him a spin. 

He’s so grateful he’s wearing his mask, or else you would be able to see the intense blush he has on his face. 

“Good. Let’s go.” He simply says, looking you up and down before he walks to the driver's seat, trying so hard not to make his attraction to you obvious.

“Just good?” You keep poking at him, smirking as you pick up on his lingering gaze. It’s so undeniable that he’s checking you out. “I spent an hour on my makeup, Lt. I’d appreciate a compliment.” “Jesus Christ, Y/N.” He sighs, turning to you with his piercing cold gaze. But his look doesn’t make your body erupt in goosebumps like it usually would. His eyes are soft even though he’s glaring daggers at you. “You look beautiful. Now let’s go, soldier. We don’t have all day.” “Thank you, Lt.” 

Even though he looks fine on the outside, he’s screaming inside. He nearly ran over the curb on the way to the club–that’s how much his mind wandered. 

He’s suddenly very protective over you, as well. He knows you can handle your own, but if any man looks at you too long in the club, he’s looming behind you like your shadow, standing close to you as you walk through the crowd. 

He checks in on you constantly during the mission. “Anyone annoying you?” “You comfortable?” “Do you need help?” It’s not out of the ordinary for him to check in now and then during missions, but this? It’s almost getting excessive. 

After the mission, he’s much calmer and softer. He’s much like his usual self around you, yet he has an element of shyness weighing down on him. He almost seems flustered. That aura will never leave him as long as he has the image of your outfit in his head.

x john "soap" mactavish

When Johnny’s assigned to go on this mission with you, saying he’s excited is an understatement. 

He’s going to get to go on a mission with you? And you’re going to be all dolled up? It’s like a dream. 

You’re always beautiful to him - like you got sculpted with such care and thought you could present as the main attraction at a museum. He’s always been a gawker, staring at you whenever he can, just drinking your features and imagining what it would be like to hold you. 

He will stare no matter what - you’re that stunning to him, and no tactical gear or scrubs could ever deduct from your beauty. But he has never seen you in clubbing attire before. It’s always refreshing to see you in different styles of clothes and disguises. It humanizes you. 

So, best believe he’s thrilled that he will see you with a flattering outfit and cute makeup. 

He’s standing outside of your door as you get ready. He’s waiting for you so you can go to the mission briefing together. Unbeknownst to him, Johnny won’t be able to focus on the briefing with you next to him. 

“You done yet, lass?” He taps his foot on the ground, grumbling as he leans against the wall by your door. “Yeah, give me a minute. They provided me with fuckin’ donut-scented perfume.” You sigh, making Johnny laugh a little. “Donuts smell good, though.” He shrugs. “Luckily…” 

“Okay, I’m ready.” You eventually step out, catching Johnny by complete surprise. He hoped he’d get a warning, a minute to prepare himself. 

And my God, he needs it. 

His jaw instantly drops at the sight of you. It’s safe to say you’ve left him speechless. You look so perfect, unlike anything he has ever seen. It almost feels corny to him–how starstruck you’ve got him.

After what feels like an eternity, he steps closer to you and gently holds your waist, his cheeks turning into a deep crimson color. 

“You look amazin’, lass.” He softly says, his rough hands feeling you up gently. “So beautiful.” He just can’t stop looking at you, his jaw still touching the floor as his eyes scan your flustered frame and face. “Thank you, John.” 

“I don’t even wanna go on the mission anymore. I just wanna look at you.” He purrs, his soft blue eyes meeting yours. “God, I wish.” You snicker, punching his shoulder playfully. “We’re already late to the briefing as is. We gotta move, Sergeant.” “Unfortunately.” 

There’s something so different about Johnny on this mission. The way he is with you is worlds apart from his attitude to everyone else. He’s as soft as a koala with you, clinging to you as you navigate around the booming club. He’s constantly whispering sweet nothings into your ear, praising you for doing the bare minimum. “You’re doin’ great, bonnie.” “Look at you… stunning.” “Aren’t you lookin’ pretty?” “Good job, beautiful.” 

But if only you can see how he’s glaring daggers at everyone else. Any man who steps too close for comfort to you needs to go through Johhny first. Nobody messes with you on his watch. He’s acting like your fucking guard dog–that’s how bad it is. 

After the mission… Good God, you’re in for it. 

Clingy™️. You thought he was clingy in the club? It is nothing compared to how much of a lost puppy he is around you now. He just wants to be around you and nobody else. 

x kyle "gaz" garrick

Kyle isn’t surprised John assigned him to go on this mission with you. You’re both young, efficient, and skillful. What better candidates are there for this?

He is, however, overjoyed. Going on missions alone with you will always be one of Kyle’s favorite things, the intimacy and romance of it all making his heart burst. But this? It is on a whole other level of romance to Kyle. Even if clubs aren’t fairytale-like, the context matters to him. He’s going to the club with you, as your date. How is that not romantic?

He has always loved your look. Not only is it sexy to him how authentic you look, but it has a level of vulnerability to it, which he adores. But he can’t help but wonder–how would you look glammed up? How would you look with a full face and a cute outfit? 

Well, he doesn’t have to wonder anymore. The time has come. 

“Hurry up, Kyle.” You grumble as you stand outside his room, continuously knocking on his door. Surprisingly, he’s putting a lot of effort into his appearance, so much so that he’s taking longer than you did to dress up. “Captain’s gonna come for our asses.” “You excited to see me, is that it?” “Shut up.” 

It takes him a few minutes to finally walk out, and as much as you are mesmerized by his appearance, it is nothing compared to his reaction to your new look. He is RED.

“Wow… you look good, Sergeant.” You give him a nod of approval, a cheeky smile painted on your face. Kyle’s sudden silence makes your eyes flicker to his own, only to be met by his awed expression. 

He takes all of you in, drinking in your appearance before his eyes meet yours. “Damn, soldier.” He whistles, stepping closer to you and giving you a twirl, erupting a hearty laugh from you. “You look great.” Even though his words are simple, they carry a palpable weight. “Thanks, Kyle. Now let’s go.” 

You instantly notice how handsy Kyle is, all of a sudden. He keeps his hand on the small of your back during the whole mission, his touch sending waves of warmth throughout your body. Your outfit hugs your curves perfectly, making it impossible for him to keep his hands away from you. You look stunning.

He even drags you onto the club’s dance floor, resting his hands on your hips and bringing you closer to him, your bodies swaying to the music. He insists it’s for blending into the crowd, but everybody knows he’s spewing complete bullshit. But you don’t mind. 

However, you two finished the mission with flying colors, your teamwork proving to be excellent once more. (Kyle is sure it’s because of the dancing.)

He has never put such thought and care into a mission report in his life. He’s secretly hoping John will assign him and you on more of these missions together. He just can’t get enough of this new look of yours. 

He still adores your usual air. Your laidback and natural beauty makes his heart skip a beat every time. But damn, your confidence in that club makes him lose his mind. 

He craves more of it.

x john price

John knows better than anyone how capable you are. How strong and essential you are to the team. He immediately assigns you to go on this mission because of your ability to complete your tasks flawlessly and smoothly. And who better to go on this mission with you than him?

He knows he’s doing this for the mission’s sake but still gets this unwavering guilt as he waits for you outside by the car. You’ve got this unique aura everyone’s drawn to, even if you aren’t everyone's taste. You’re so courageous and likable, so unapologetically yourself. There’s just something about you. He can’t help but like you. And he feels like he’s solely going on this mission with you because of his biased feelings–because he chose you two to go together. It’s so shameful. He’s your Captain, for fuck’s sake. 

“What’s got you stressing, Cap?” You break him out of his storm of thoughts when you walk towards him, looking more alluring than ever. He could look at you for hours. Your outfit hugs your curves perfectly, your makeup extenuates your features, and your scent makes you smell like you came straight from heaven. You look like a literal angel. There’s no denying that.

“Well, don’t you look breathtaking?” He gives you a soft smile, stepping closer to you and taking all of you in. “Ready to go?” He can’t let himself get too distracted. You’ve still got a mission to complete. It is proving to be more difficult than usual, though–not because of the objective itself but because of you. 

“Thanks, Captain.” You chuckle, nodding. “Yep. All ready.” 

Focusing on the road is rougher than it seems. With you sitting next to John, he can’t look anywhere but you. The mere sight of you is just killing him. 

Focusing on the mission isn’t as hard, but it’s still bothersome when he could be holding you in his arms, admiring your newfound beauty and look. He’s trying his hardest not to act possessive. To not be closer than he needs to be. Again–he has a job to get done.

But at the end of the day, unlike everyone else, he knows how to control himself and finish the mission quickly and efficiently. 

After the mission, however, you’re not off the hook. 

Since he’s your Captain, he needs to keep himself in check. Having a relationship with you is dangerous for you both, which is why he’s discreet with his favoritism and feelings. 

Now all of a sudden, he’s assigning you on far too many disguise missions, the ones that require you to get dolled up. Of course, he’s still so smitten by default. Like Johnny, he feels that no amount of imperfections can take away from your beauty. But seeing you in those dresses… that makeup… it does something to John. He can’t get enough of it. 

And obviously, he’s going with you on those missions. 

And suddenly, it’s not about the missions anymore but about you. John’s not doing this because you’re skilled–John’s doing this because it’s the closest he’ll ever get to being with you. 

[jupiterswasphouse]

WASPS OF THE WORLD - A REVIEW

[Image ID: A photo of the cover of the book 'Wasps Of The World: A Guide To Every Family' by Simon Van Noort and Gavin Broad, a black and white cover with 12 in color photos of wasps of a multitude of different families /End ID.]

Howdy everyone! and happy Wasp Wednesday!

Yesterday, I finished reading through this book, and figured I'd share my thoughts and reasons to recommend it, given how recently published it is as of writing! (February 6th, 2024)

Read under the cut!

So, How Extensive Is It?:

The cover doesn't lie, for the most part, covering every family that one might traditionally consider to be wasps as of the publishing date, and more! Despite being simply titled 'Wasps Of The World', you may be surprised to learn that this book essentially covers all of Hymenoptera, to an extent.

The taxonomically minded of you might expect ants and bees to get at least a passing mention, also being wasps themselves, although their sections are less extensive than other well known families, and the bee families are not covered individually (I cannot yet speak for the quality of these books but this book recommends the publications 'Ants, A Visual Guide' by Heather Campbell and Benjamin Blanchard, and 'Bees Of The World' by Laurence Packer for more extensive reading).

What you might not expect however, is the section on suborder Symphyta, which is to say, sawflies! Each family of this suborder is covered in pages 30 - 59, just as extensively as those in Apocrita (Covered in pages 60 - 233). I must say this was a pleasant surprise!

How Is It Covered? (Extensiveness Continued):

The length of each segment tends to depend on how much is actually known about each family and how unique each species or subfamily is from each other within, and may range from a short paragraph to up to 4 pages. Images, with descriptions, are provided for each family, sometimes just one but usually two or more, as well as a section covering; Distribution (with geographic map), Genera, Habitats, Size, Activity, Reproduction, and Diet

Of course, with the species richness of an order like Hymenoptera, not everything about each family can be covered in a 200+ page book, but this book provides an absolutely fantastic framework of knowledge from nesting and parasitizing behavior, to their vast ecological benefits (or pest statuses in the few cases where applicable), as well as a glossary of some of the more technical terms used (Page 234) and suggested further reading (Page 235)

The book also contains a wonderful introductory section (Pages 6 - 29) covering generally common behaviors, anatomy, diversity, biology, conservation, classification, and even how wasps are photographed! (bonus points for the mention of iNaturalist)

Would I Recommend It?/How Good Is It For Someone Like Me (The Reader)?:

The short answer is Absolutely/Great!

The longer answer is yes, I would recommend it, as already mentioned, it provides an extensive amount of knowledge for those just getting interested in Hymenoptera or entomology in general, and provides plenty in the way of extra information that even someone who's been invested in the study for quite a while may not yet know, including more recent developments in each family's classification.

As the title might suggest, the book may also see some use as a field guide, or as an aid to teach others about wasps!

The book is also relatively cheap comparatively to some textbooks, available for $25 - $30 for an outright purchase

In Conclusion:

This is a wonderful book and I'm very happy with my purchase! It feels weird giving a star rating to non-fiction publications but if I had to give one, it would be

5/5

[roseaesynstylae]

So, the idea of the Bad Batch (minus Echo, plus Emerie) being the other half of the Nulls has consumed my goddamn mind. Therefore, as you do when an idea takes up residence in your frontal lobe for the foreseeable future, here's some headcanons.

The Bad Batch (except for Echo and Omega, who have no clue what's going on) hate the Nulls. As in, "murder on sight" hate them. From an in-universe perspective, there could be a myriad of reasons, ranging from feelings of abandonment to resentment over them having a better life. From a writer's standpoint, it's because I love me some good old familial dysfunction and angst.

The more...unhinged...tendencies the Nulls are known for manifests in the Bad Batch more as "let's jump off this cliff and use explosives to direct our fall!" and less as "hey, check out my new skin gloves!" Of course, if you push them too far, it's a different story. In order of least to most likely to pull a "lemme turn you into an art installation," it's Omega, Wrecker, Hunter, Crosshair, and Tech. Omega wouldn't do that, at least not at this point in her life. Wrecker, when enraged, goes for the just-hit-them solution. Hunter's a decent human being and usually wouldn't do something like that...Unless his kid's been kidnapped by a crazy Imperial doctor for the fifteenth time, on which point he starts becoming a little deranged. Crosshair hovers close to the line but wouldn't do it to someone unprovoked. Tech is a special case, in that he has to be pushed, but when he is, the results make the rest of the Nulls go "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST."

The Nulls want to reunite with their lost siblings and build a relationship, but that's kind of hard to do when said siblings (except Omega) keep trying to kill them on sight and none of them were built for intricate and deeply complicated emotional issues. Still, they persist. Eventually, they could probably get to the level of "awkward conversations" but it'll take a lot of work.

The Bad Batch have what makes the Nulls superior to regular clone troopers, plus their unique enhancements (which in this version are less defects and more Nala Se picking an attribute for each of them and cranking it up to 11). They feel that it makes them better than the Nulls, something they're not shy about expressing.

Emerie is the same height as her estranged (I can't think of a word that applies to this specific situation but this one will do) brothers, because I stan a tall queen.

Nala Se is smug as hell whenever she sees Orun Wa. "CT-9904 just broke all records for accuracy, CT-9902 discovered a new element, CT-9903 crushed beskar like it was paper, and CT-9901 tracked a man through five systems and a solar storm. What are your clones doing, again?"

There is no understating the sheer "wtf" that goes through the Nulls' heads when they first see Omega. But, of course, this is Omega. Imagine the cutest image of her you've seen, fanart or canon. That's what the Nulls see when they meet her. Unsurprisingly, the Nulls, who got the Mandalorian gene to adopt anything that isn't nailed down, go from "wtf" to "so smol 🥰" in roughly a minute.

Kal Skirata is in the corner. His attempt to interact with the Bad Batch did not go well. He casually calls Hunter "son," as he does with various characters, and the resulting explosion puts a thermal detonator to shame. Since it's clear that his presence is not making things better, he's sort of just in the corner.

The rest of Clan Skirata, and associates, are staying out of this. Gilamar and Vau took one look and retreated to the bar because they know better than to get involved. Everyone else witnessed one of the less acrimonious encounters and collectively decided that they are not jumping into the emotional equivalent of a pit of rabid wolverines.

Echo is the go-between. He does not want to be the go-between. But he's the only neutral party in this thing aside from Omega, and the rest of the Batch don't trust the Nulls with her.

Spare a though for 99. He raised four of these guys, often with the aid of leashes. Truly, he is an unsung hero of the Clone Wars

[thatsatricky1]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 || ‘𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞’ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Eight of the top ten most popular players in Korea are invited to be the first people to test out the newest device and gameplay by NEO a video game company known as of recent to be the best of the best. An opportunity of a life time handed to them to be able to trial and get a contract to promote it later on. The eight couldn’t resist as they gladly accepted the invitation. Not being able to predict what was to come. A trail test that wouldn’t just be focused on graphics and playablity, no this would test relationships, strength, resolve and many more unpredictable things.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Nct Dream ot7 x Reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Angst, Fantasy, Fluff, Gaming, Humour, Romance, Smut (in future chapters), Thriller.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6,5k+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Cursing, mentions of mild violence (y’all its like one playful punch)

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: This does not depict an accurate picture of Nct Dream and this is strictly fantasy/fiction for entertainment purposes.

“Welcome to Neo, I’m thankful for all of you to be able to come here with your busy schedules at such a late time of the day, even if this is usually the peak hour you work anyway.” A man, the Ceo of Neo clasped his hands together, a grin forming on his face as he addressed the eight figures seated around a retro meeting office room.

Taking a step forward at the head of the table it gave the eight stream and popular gaming players a good look at what he was wearing. Wearing a very fashionable style of clothes that fit with the Neo image, a young generation focused company.

“The reason for you being in the Neo building instead of sitting comfortably at home is because we want to run the first trial here in our very own headquarters. To ensure your safety and comfort while in game, just for the first time. If everything runs smoothly you’ll be able to continue the trials in your own personal spaces in whatever time schedule you all can agree on.” Taeyong explained the reason as to why it needed to be done in person toda before the devices and game could be used in their own apartments.

“I’ve heard from my people you’ve all asked your questions on things like contracted hours, sponsorship bonuses and the whole boring stuff. So why don’t we get to the interesting part, hm?” Taeyong finally unclamping his hands giving the young adults a smirk at their reactions while workers entered with a device.

“This.” Taeyong started speaking, holding his hand out as someone placed the tech wear headgear into his hand before he continued on “Is what you’ll all be wearing during the trials. Designed for comfort around the head and of course aesthetically pleasing to the eyes, I do hope no one minds that I’ve assigned each of you different coloured versions.”

The eight gamers leaning forward in their seats inspect the well made and foreign looking tech wear like headgear. A few showing excitement, others wariness and the rest a mix of both. Taeyong observed their reactions before he tapped his finger against the headgear absentmindedly.

“Well, to put it simply and go over it again just in case no one read the papers we sent out, which is understandable reading can be a drag. The headgear is safe and has been tested out already thoroughly, we already have a safety rating of five… out of five.”

“For the first time you get to wear it, someone will put it on for you. Then later on you’ll receive instructions on how to do it yourselves in future at home. I hope it is okay that you’ll all be using recliner chairs today instead of laying down, your bodies won’t be disturbed during your time in the game.”

“Now, enough talking. Who’s ready to play?” Taeyong finished his monologue with a tilted grin on his face as he raised an eyebrow towards his newly acquired team of well seasoned and popular gamers.

“Lead the way.” Mark was the one to speak for all eight of them giving the go ahead.

“Enthusiasm, I love it.” Taeyong replied spinning on his heels to leave the room expecting the eight to follow.

“This is some futuristic shit right here.” Donghyuck whispered where he stood with the group watching people set up and prepare the lounge they would be, while under during the game play.

“And we’re the first ones to get to experience it.” Jaemin moved to wrap his arms over both Jeno and Renjun’s shoulders as he pointed out their newest achievement.

“Let’s hope nothing weird happens and Donghyuck over here loses his last brain cell.” Renjun joked out, his friend opening his mouth to let out a retort but was cut off by the Ceo, Taeyong clapping his hands once leaving them clasped, an obvious habit at this point.

“So, everything is set up, please take a seat where your name card is, it has your gaming tag names on it. You’ll be geared up soon.” His words causing the young gamers to share glances.

Y/n being the first to move forward, spotting her gamer name tag easily, the others following as they found their respected spots.

Everyone sinking into the comfortable recliner seat awaiting. Y/n eyes shifting to watch the person beside her getting her tech wear headgear ready, before looking over the the recliner next to her to see Chenle lounging there looking bored out of his mind waiting, his feet swinging.

The corner of her lips tilting up in clear amusement before looking ahead of her to see Jisung, eyeing the way his hands gripped the recliner chairs armrests tightly most likely overthinking his position, the two catching eyes.

‘Relax, we are right here.’ She mouthed to him, nodding in Chenle’s direction to show they were only a few paces away in their chairs.

Jisung seemingly was able to understand what she mouthed as he relaxed slightly into the recliner, swallowing as his fingers smoothed out from their cramped position. Y/n giving him a small smile at him trying to calm down.

“Alright, try to move around too much while they put your headgear on, they’ll adjust it to be even more comfortable.” Taeyong’s voice diverted all eight of their attention.

Y/n doing her best not to flinch when the woman next to her got into her personal space, the techwear headgear in hand. Taking a deep inhale through her nose as the woman moved to place the headgear over her head. Her eye’s automatically fluttered shut at the sensation of something enclosing around her.

Though as the woman adjusted the headgear, it barely felt like she was wearing anything, only reminded she was by the slight weight difference then normal. Eye’s peeking open to watch the woman continue working only to flicker to the side subconsciously checking on her friends.

It had only taken two minutes for everyone’s headgear to be adjusted correctly before the people around then stood back. Taeyong leisurely strolling around watching, an amused smile etched on his face at the different reactions the eight had to the headgear, remembering it for later to write down for his notes.

“Alright, I’m assuming everyone is ready, the headgear has all been applied correctly. Now don’t get shocked, you’ll all hear a voice through your headsets that will count down from ten, a timer if you will, to let you know when you’ll be entered into the game.” Taeyong explained while moving around the room.

“How do we know if it worked?” Jaemin asked out from where he was reclined back comfortably, hand tapping against the armrest out of habit, used to moving his hands.

“Trust me you’ll know.” Taeyong hummed out shaking his head amused by the question as if it had been a funny joke.

“Doyoung please start the countdown.” Taeyong nodded towards someone further away in the lounge near what looked like a normal high quality Pc setup.

“Hello this is Neo, you will be transported into Project Impact after the ten second countdown is complete. Enjoy the journey, have fun and don’t forget Neo is always with you every step of the way.” A female voice rang through all eight headgears.

“Ten.”

“We just got warned but her voice nearly gave me a heart attack.” Renjun huffed out, gaining a laugh from Chenle.

“Nine.”

“Don’t worry Renjun, no need to die in real life, I bet you’ll be the first out in the game.” Chenle barked out, his high pitched laugh following.

“Seven.”

“Careful Lele, Renjun might just throw in pettiness if you keep that up.” Donghyuck joined in on teasing Renjun.

“Six.”

“No one is throwing.” Mark sternly warned out to everyone, wincing at the thought of how that would look in Taeyong’s eyes after giving them such a good contract.

“Who did the voiceover? She sounds familiar.” Jaemin asked out to no one in particular.

“Five.”

“Of course the first thing you say about the game we haven’t entered yet is about a woman.” Jeno quipped from beside Jaemin.

“Four.”

“Woman supremacy.” Jaemin replied with a large grin shrugging even if Jeno wasn’t looking at him, his speech slightly slurring being hit by a wave of tiredness.

“Four.”

“For once you said something right Nana.” Y/n spoke out from her side of the room, not bothering to look over at him as she felt so comfortable all of a sudden as if her body was sinking into the recliner.

“Three.”

“My eyes feel heavy.” Jisung barely managed to slur out, eyes falling shut only for him to try snapping them back open multiple times not being able to fight the sleepiness looming around him.

“Two.”

“Hmm mmm.” Renjun hummed out wanting to say something but his lips wouldn’t move in favour of staying closed as his eyes followed suit closing on themselves.

“One.”

“One.” Taeyong whispered to himself repeating the animated woman’s voice with her gazing intensely at the young adults who were all still.

“This will be fun.” Taeyong’s grin returned, turning to stroll his way over to where Doyoung sat, eyeing the screens, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

“Welcome home Player 1, Mork.”

“Welcome home Player 2, Injeolmi.”

“Welcome home Player 3, SamoyedJ.”

“Welcome home Player 4, Fullsun.”

“Welcome home Player 5, Nana.”

“Welcome home Player 6, Dolphinlele.”

“Welcome home Player 7, Jwijwi.”

“Welcome home Player 8, T/n.”

Each individual player hearing their own greetings and not each other as they all laid spawned into random locations of the room, some in sitting positions while others had been laying.

Mark’s eyes snapping open as he took in his surroundings, alarm bells blaring once he did not feel or have impaired vision from the headgear, hands fling up to feel nothing covering his face.

Freezing at the realisation he could feel and touch himself as if it was real, taking in a deep breath. Body flying up from the couch he’d been sitting on, swearing he had felt the leather against his hands as he pushed off the seat with his hands.

“Holy shit it’s like we are really here, like this is just normal life.” Donghyuck’s voice grabbed Mark's attention as he looked over to see his friend getting up from where he’d been laying on the wooden floor.

“It’s so realistic that it’s creepy.” Renjun muttered a shiver running down his back at how one second he felt as though he was going into a deep state of sleep but the next he was wide awake in a whole new setting.

“It’s like a dream, but I can feel everything.” Jisung gasped out in wonder from where he sat on the wooden floor next to Donghyuck, moving to touch the leg of the table next to him curiously.

“It looks like I’m seeing you all exactly like beforehand, no shitty graphics.” Chenle commented on the next hyper realistic part of this all. It was unlike any video game not animated aspects, like they’d been transported into a film instead.

“You mean I still have to see all your faces in high definition, what a shame I thought my eyes could take a break.” Y/n joked out to keep herself from freaking out at how realistic everything seemed.

“I’m going to pretend you meant that as a compliment and not a dis.” Jaemin muttered moving to stretch his body, groaning as his back popped satisfyingly another weird realistic feature.

“Welcome Players, this is your home base. Once you entered Project Impact this house was chosen based on your internet personas and has been automatically set as your respawning point.” The female’s voice floated in the air as if right in front of them yet was actually being transmitted through their headgear back in reality.

“Each player has a private room that has been modeled exactly like your own bedrooms from what we already know about you, courtesy of our lovely Ceo of Neo as a sort of gift, not all players will receive such a gift, the rest of the house is based on your aesthetic taste preferences combined.” The voice continued.

“Well that’s not entirely concerning or creepy.” Renjun muttered.

“Over time you will be able to renovate and change things in your homebase. This goes for your own appearance too. Your overall body types and facial features will stay true to your real selves but customisable areas include things such as eye colour, hair colour and hairstyle, accessories and wardrobe clothing items.”

“Once again Ceo of Neo has gifted you with some of your most known wardrobe clothing and accessories items you wear on stream and in daily life through social media already, with a couple of extra clothing items added in for some flair.”

“As per what has been already discussed, you will be going into the game blind, not knowing what exactly the game play is focused on or rather how many possibilities are in store for you all here at Project Impact. With that I will leave you with a good luck, have fun exploring and if you need help don’t be shy and request it.”

With that the eight were left in silence before a sudden song floated through a speaker nearby, a pop song that had been recently charting at a nice low volume.

“Fuck me, this is going to be so much fun.” Donghyuck cheered flopping onto the beige couch nearby, accidentally tugging Mark to fall onto the couch with him, Mark grunting having felt the impact.

“You’ve got blue hair again Jisung!” Chenle cackled, pointing at the confused friend who rushed over to a mirror, his own eyes widening at the fact he did indeed have his old hairstyle back.

Jisung had dyed his whole head of hair blue after passing a sub count on his stream a few months prior, having gained the nickname blueberry from it. He remembered the way he’d gotten his hair bleached at a hair salon but streamed at home with Chenle and Y/n as they helped lather his hair in the rich blue colour. He’d only recently dyed it back to brown.

“Guess Taeyong liked your blue hair better on you, Blueberry.” Y/n chimed in on the teasing as he groaned at the nickname popping up.

“I think we were loaded in with in-game clothing items.” Jeno observed looking down at his outfit in interest. Wearing a striped knitted sweater underneath a block blue coloured long sleeve, with fashionable blue flared jeans with added random rips and converse shoes. His own personal necklace he wore often, one he’d worn today was still hanging from his neck with an added ring on his finger.

“You think? I don’t wear leather jackets.” Renjun snarked out towards Jeno shifting his shoulders back at the leather feeling against him. Renjun had a layered white, purple shirt with black mesh over it and a leather Neo logo’d leather jacket paired with black denim shorts, white calf height socks and black white sneakers. Not yet noticing the added necklaces and ring lip piercing on him.

“We can figure out how to change our hair and clothing later, we should look around first.” Mark suggested getting a round of agreement from the rest as they dispersed around their so-called homebase.

Y/n made her way down another hallway, feet stopping at a door that caught her attention, the door and doorframe itself familiar. It looked exactly like her own in her apartment. Raising an eyebrow at it, wondering just how extensively had Taeyong put research into their lives. He must have been confident in them agreeing to the contract as it had been only a month since they’d signed the deal which wouldn’t have been long enough to go into this type of meticulous work.

Shaking away the thoughts she grabbed the door handle pulling down on it before pushing the door inwards revealing her room. Her jaw nearly dropped at the sight in front of her own eyes. It was scarily accurate to her own room, she’d vlogged her room before so she shouldn’t be too surprised but it was still something her head had trouble processing.

A few items were not there, which was understandable as not everything could be placed in the game in precise accuracy but it was still very much what her room looked like. Entering the room properly now as she moved around the room until she saw her closet.

Rushing over and pushing the door open to be met with familiar and new clothing items.

“Wardrobe Unlocked.” The female voice floated through her head as she moved to touch different clothing items.

“This is way too realistic.” She muttered to herself as her fingers grazed over one of her favourite hoodies, a comfort hoodie she’d be sure to wear sometime soon in game, but took a step back, closing the closet, deciding she’d start off with her normal in-game clothing first.

Taking the time now to look at her own in-game clothing. A white crop top with black washed out ripped denim jeans, paired with white black shoes a cross on each one. A necklace paired with two rings and a grey satchel bag as accessories.

“Usertag Fullsun is requesting entry.” The female voice spoke once again causing Y/n to look over at her room door blanking when she saw it was closed again, she hadn’t closed it when she entered but she assumed it must have automatically closed.

“Um, request granted?” Y/n says unsurely into the open air, seemingly the command has worked as her door swings open with Donghyuck’s force.

“Y/N! My room- whoa.” Donghyuck cutting off his own sentence looking around in amazement at how they’d gotten her room right, or at least very accurately.

“Stop gawking, we should meet up with the others, they're probably waiting by now.” Y/n answered in return, moving to grab his arm, feeling the material of his loose almost see through knitted sweater as she dragged him towards the exit of her room.

“Look! It’s the plushie I got you when you hit a ‘mil on YouTube!” Donghyuck nearly squealed out pointing towards the plushie on her bed as he’s dragged out.

The two entered the hallway, door closing by itself. Both shared a glance at this but their attention was stolen away from where Chenle was knocking furiously against a door with the name tag Jwijwi.

“For once Chenle can’t storm into our rooms.” Y/n pointed out amused by the sight of the impatient brunette.

“I’m going to pretend to be amused with you like I wasn’t knocking exactly like that on your door a minute ago.” Donghyuck grinned wiggling his eyebrows animatedly causing Y/n to purse her lips realising he was the same as Chenle in that regard.

“Lele, come on, we're going to the living room. Sungie you too.” Y/n called out causing Chenle to look over just as Jisung’s door opened and he walked out, having heard her request.

“I hate the fact I need permission to enter your rooms.” Chenle grumbled out as the four grouped up to walk back.

“We’ll see if we can change that later in controls or something, let’s just map everything out first.” Y/n reassured her impatient friend as they made it back to the living room.

Mark and Renjun were both at the table looking over what seemed to be a map. Jeno and Jaemin enter the living room from a different entrance.

“What’s that?” Jeno asked out curiously as all five moved over to surround the table as well.

“It’s a map of the surrounding neighbourhood, looks like we’ve been placed in a more Eastern setting.

Everyone peered down at the map noting slight Easter eggs here and there of street names and store names. Some from Neo’s old games all the way to personal popular moments on social media from their own lives.

“They named a street after Chenle’s dog, why?” Renjun blanked at the sight causing Chenle to nudge his shoulder thinking it was a great idea, loving it.

“Daegal street sounds fantastic thank you very much, it’s probably the best street in the area.” Chenle defended his dog’s honor.

“Should we take a look outside?” Mark offered out to the rest of the group, silence enveloping them besides the music playing in the background before Jaemin, Donghyuck and Chenle bounded towards the front entrance of the home.

“I think that means yes.” Jisung sighed out as the rest followed.

The three were waiting for them at the front entrance, not having left yet. For two main purposes. One being they wanted to experience this as a group all together but the other reason was the unspoken leadership role Mark had taken in their friend group whenever it came to gaming.

Whenever the group had streamed together on games and such, Mark was always allocated the leadership role in the group without question or even a vote. It was a natural thing that had happened between the friend group. In and out of view of their online fan bases.

Mark moved to the front as his hand moved to touch the cool metal handle on the door, taking a quick breath in before opening it to reveal the outside world. A whole new area for them to explore.

“Welcome to Dream town.” The female’s voice greeted the players to the spawned town.

“Well that’s not very original.” Jeno pointed out as they took cautious steps out. The group had developed the group name Dreamies from the respected fan bases after they’d noticed the gamers had developed friendships and streamed/gamed often together. A whole new fan based solely for each one of them as a whole.

“Be happy it’s not Chenle’s dog’s name.” Renjun quipped back as they walked down the steps of the house.

“Oh we have cars.” Jeno couldn’t help but grin, adding on desperately “Please tell me we can drive them to.” Leaving the group towards a car parked outside their home assuming it was theirs, confirming it when the license plate had JN230400. That screamed his initials and birthdate.

Of course the one who was known for talking about his car would have his car parked out front, unbeknownst to the other’s their cars were in the garage, something they’d find out later on.

“I can literally feel the breeze against my face.” Jisung spoke out eyes closing as he felt the sun soaking into his skin and the nice faint cool breeze brushing against his face. It was unreal how much they could experience.

“That’s probably just Taeyong blowing in your face back at the company.” Chenle teased out ruffling his friends hair, starting a playful fight as they started roughhousing from Chenle ruining Jisung’s brief peace.

“As fun as this is, something tells me the game makers are just letting us explore uninterrupted before getting properly into the game.” Mark commented, arms crossed watching the rough housing going on.

“So what you're saying is enjoy our time exploring, hm?” Jaemin cheekily added on moving to wrap an arm around Mark’s shoulder.

“I wonder if we’ll be able to see our stats soon.” Renjun thought out loud causing Y/n to look over at him thinking it over.

“Please show me my stats Neo.” Y/n tested out loud blinking when she saw vividly in her own head a sort of screen like image.

“Here are your current stats, this will be updated regularly according to your actions.” The female voice spoke out to only her.

The boys watched her, it looked like she was dazed focusing on something.

Her states were interesting to say the least. She had a health bar, hunger bar, hygiene bar, energy bar, predetermined stats like physical stats= strength, dexterity and constitution, mental stats= Intelligence, wisdom and charisma. An area for abilities also listed. Her abilities she’d already had were basic human skill sets with a note ending on how abilities would increase or be added depending on activities done.

Before she could see more she shook the thought away, turning to look at the other three.

“Okay that worked, really weird vibe from that but I could see my thoughts like an image in my head.” Y/n explained before giving a simple run down of what it looked like.

“Interesting, looks like they have thought about a lot, although they did already say the game was technically finished I’m sure we’ll find a few bugs and glitches around.” Renjun claimed about Neo.

“Every game has a bug, no matter what.” Jaemin agreed, grinning as he added on “And with our luck we’ll walk right into it.”

“With our luck something is bound to happen.” Y/n groaned out not knowing just how ironic her words would be.

“Someone go find their car! I want us to take a drive around the place! Driving will be faster!” Jeno shouted out from where he was sitting on top of the hood of his new car, already excited to see if he could customise and upgrade his own car throughout the time they were going to play the game.

“Jesus I only trust him in real life with cars, did anyone remember the time we played a car simulator with him?” Jaemin shivered at the reminder of Jeno’s chaotic driving that game night, an off-stream thing. The group tried to have two personal game nights a month to themselves without people watching and breathing down their necks.

“Well, this place is pretty realistic so I’m assuming it will be safer than that… hopefully.” Mark replied nose scrunching at the thought of Jeno’s reckless driving if it wasn’t the case.

“We should get Y/n to drive- Alright I guess that was already decided by her.” Renjun suggested only to look to his right to see Y/n had already disappeared from their little group off to go find a car, hopefully her own.

Y/n walked around for five minutes before finding the garage, grunting as she ended up going back into the house to find it. Walking through the door, eyebrows raised seeing that the garage looked way bigger on the inside. Whistling to herself as she noticed all the different cars. Stopping in front of a tarp, grabbing the ends and pulling it off.

“Personal car unlocked.” The voice spoke out, causing her to make a mental note to ask the omnipresent voice if it had a name.

“Holy shit.” She muttered to herself gazing at the car.

It was a Subaru WRX, in blue. She shook her head with an amused grin realising she’d shown the car on stream before saying this would be the car she chose to buy if she ever got the chance one day.

Moving to the side of the car she wondered if she needed a key only for the female voice to speak again, reminding her to check her inventory, causing her to furrowed her eyebrows in confusion but just thinking about her inventory seemed to do the trick as an inventory flashed through her head, keys being one of the things in it.

Taking a wild guess she focused on the keys, nearly jumping when keys appeared in the palm of her hand, holding it up in front of her face, analysing it before unlocking the door and sliding in.

Her hands smoothing over the leather steering wheel before letting out a laugh of pure excitement. Clicking the engine on, feet automatically going to the clutch and slowly letting the clutch pressure release after taking the car out of park and into drive.

“New ability/skill set unlocked”

It was exactly like driving in real life, her car slowly moving forwards as her car grumbled to life moving forward, Y/n making sure not to damage any of the parked cars as she made her way towards the garage door that automatically opened.

Driving slowly down the drive while pulling down all her windows, a light breeze entering the car. Looking out the car driver side window she peered towards the boys, hearing Jeno hollered out in excitement to see her driving her dream car.

“Get in losers we’re going exploring.” Y/n raised her voice for everyone to hear. Using a Mean girls reference with a slight twist on it.

“On Wednesdays we apparently drive blue cars.” Renjun commented in return having been the first to get to her car, opening the passenger seat to get in. Clicking his seatbelt on after moving over the middle of the console to put her seatbelt on for her as she’d forgotten to out of excitement, not scolding her knowing this.

“I’m starting to like this game.” Y/n hummed back as Chenle and Jisung got in the back, her foot on the clutch as she changed gears back to neutral as she waited for Mark, Donghyuck and Jaemin to get into Jeno’s car, who tapped his steering wheel impatiently.

“You’re going to let him drive off first?” Jisung asked as he put on his seatbelt, safety in mind, asking about Jeno to her.

“Yeah, less of a risk of him driving into my car that way.”

“In-game car, Y/n. You’ll be missing it the moment we’re out of the game.” Chenle pointed out moving to lean in between the gap to face her.

Renjun’s hand shooting out to push against Chenle’s head towards the back seats.

“Shut up and buckle up, it’s in game but who knows how much damage we receive and what it’ll feel like.” Renjun scolded the younger friend. Who grumbled in return but did put his seatbelt on.

The sudden topic was something they really did need to think about. If everything in the game felt so realistic would getting hurt be like that as well? Y/n didn’t think so as the Ceo of Neo, Taeyong did claim the safety rating was five out of five so they must only get told their health stat would go down or take damage. Instead of thinking further on it Y/n focused on playing the game.

Jeno started driving causing Y/n to change into first gear while slowly releasing her clutch after her foot left the brake pedal, manovoring out of the drive. Even with them being the only ones on the road she still looked and indicated, on muscle memory.

“Where are we heading?” Jisung asked out as he peered out of the open backseat window.

“Wherever Jeno wants I guess.” Y/n replied as her hand moved to change into second gear after hitting 30 km/h.

“Mark is in the passenger seat, he has the map with him, he put it in his back pocket before we went outside.” Renjun also revealed.

“Looks like driving is realistic enough, Jeno hasn’t crashed yet.” Y/n pointed out changing into third gear after observing the fact Jeno was speeding up, Mark must have found a spot they wanted to go on map in town and was giving him directions by the confident style he showed from speeding up.

“Just think about all these houses, they will be home bases for other players one day.” Jisung pointed out as he observed the differently styled houses in the area.

“In a couple of months if everything goes well.” Renjun hummed out.

Y/n changing back into second gear as they rounded a corner and back up to third gear once they continued along. Renjun moved to turn on the radio of the car for some ambience. He was one of the four people of the group that was in charge of the music playlist usually during hang outs so it was natural for him to do so.

The group drove for five minutes before Jeno started slowing down. Y/n following his pace gazing around for tell tale signs of what exactly they were arriving too.

“Looks like the store area of the town.” Renjun pointed out as everyone took in the new area of the town.

“Can we loot in this game?” Chenle made an offhand comment as Jisung gave him a warning look.

“Your sticky fingers always cause trouble.” Jisung grumbled out in distaste.

“Hands in pockets Chenle when we arrive.” Y/n joked out as if Chenle was a kid, having remembered how her own mum used to make her do so as a child not to touch or break anything in stores.

“My number one haters right here.” Chenle huffed out pouting with crossed arms.

Jeno started indicating towards a car park area, causing Y/n to do the same. Shift down to first gear as she turned into the car park, driving further in compared to Jeno before putting the car in reverse, easily parking as only a few cars were parked in the area.

Putting the car in park, she turned off the engine, causing Chenle to pop his seatbelt off straight away, opening his door to race off towards where Jeno was still parking. Y/n grumbling about Chenle not even closing the door. All three inside unbuckled before getting out themselves, Jisung rounding the corner to close the door Chenle hadn’t.

“Let’s see what they picked for us to look at.” Renjun offered as he waited with Jisung as Y/n locked her car.

“Probably had a few stores in mind, but came to the main store street so we could get the general layout for what we’ll need going further into the game.” Y/n replied while the trio walked through the car park towards the other’s hopping out of Jeno’s car.

“Jeno has an automatic car Y/n!” Donghyuck shouted out towards the trio that approached, already cackling while holding his stomach after seeing Y/n reaction, her nose scrunching in dismay at Jeno’s car.

“Disappointed but not surprised Jeno.” Y/n addressed him as she finally got over right as Jeno punched Donghyuck in the arm in retaliation.

“I didn’t choose that!” Jeno claimed loudly as Donghyuck yelped looking disturbed, eyes unfocused.

“You ass! My health was depleted by 2 % just then!” He zoned back in, shaking off the image in his head as the female voice told him his health status.

“Well how was I supposed to know that would deplete your health, I didn’t even try hitting you hard!” Jeno argued back, Renjun shoving his face away from Donghyucks with his hand to stand in front of the said ‘injured’ friend.

“What did it feel like?” Renjun asked, curious on how much they’d be able to feel pain in the gameplay.

“What? Not even an are you okay Channie?” Donghyuck whined out offended but grumbled out the answer “It didn’t feel like what it usually feels like getting punched by Jeno, felt weird like a fuzzy feeling. How do I even describe it? Like my body didn’t like it but it also didn’t hurt.”

“So we feel something but not exactly pain, when getting hurt to indicate we have taken damage.” Renjun voiced out how they’d know about taking damage without constantly checking their health stat.

“Coolio, can we go check out the shops now?” Chenle interrupted, getting impatient to look around.”

“Outside message ‘Out of three hours you have two hours left to continue exploring.’ Delivered.” The female's voice floated through their heads at the same time.

“Hey do you have a name, automated voice person?” Jaemin asked out loud, blinking as the group watched before he gave them a sheepish smile.

“They called her Jayu.” Jaemin explained while he shrugged his shoulders, showing off that the question did help them.

“Has it really been an hour already?” Jisung asked out, shocked at just how fast time passed already.

“Yes, now let’s go before we waste anymore time!” Chenle loudly shut down Jisung’s attempt at conversation, tugging his friend into a walk.

“If we break off please go in at least pairs!” Mark called out worriedly before adding on “We’re regrouping back at the carpark in one hour!”

Donghyuck placed his hands on Mark’s shoulders to push him towards the car park exit having picked him, already talking his friends' ears off.

Renjun seeing who was left, quickly grabbing Y/n’s wrist not wanting to deal with the other 00 liners nearby.

“Hey you already got to be a passenger princess in her car.” Jaemin argued, tugging Renjun’s hand away from her wrist.

“Exactly, plus the people who drove here should stick together.” Jeno sneakily replied moving to rest his arm on Y/n’s shoulder who gave him a look at the bodily made up excuse.

“Shut up Jeno, that was an ass excuse.” Renjun scoffed out before pointing at Y/n.

“Pick someone before those two start brawling.” He suggested letting his hand drop.

Y/n humming as she thought it over. She would have the most peace with Renjun, but didn’t like the idea of leaving Jaemin and Jeno together and alone in any type of store; that was bound to be a disaster.

“For the sake of us not breaking anything in the stores I’m gonna have to pick one of them, Jaemin come on.” She decided, causing Jaemin to pump his fist in the area before running to catch up with Y/n who’d already started to leave.

Jaemin turned to look back at Renjun and Jeno giving them a smug look before talking with Y/n waving his arms around as he does.

“She’s right about you guys being a chaotic duo when left alone.” Renjun quipped at Jeno before moving away, Jeno tempted to shove Renjun’s shoulder at his words but wanted not to get hurt in return so he left it be trailing after him.

Outside the gameplay back in the Neo company building Taeyong sat at the desk with Doyoung. Takeout on the table.

“This is going well, put some money into their credit as a gift while they roam the stores.” Taeyong commented, his eyes glued to one of the many screens showing each pair of duo’s walking around.

“Careful, they might get used to your generosity.” Doyoung warned but completed the task given to him anyway.

“It’s their first day Doyoung, let them have fun.” Taeyong grinned at his friend, who’d been beside him since he’d started the company.

“It seems like you’re having more fun watching them then they are playing the game.” Doyoung teased out with a scoff, hands typing away.

“It’s refreshing seeing the game running after working on it for years.” Taeyong hummed out eyes training on a specific pair of the group. The pink haired and brunette haired duo finally made it to one of the stores.

“Careful Taeyong, your favouritism is showing.” Doyoung noticed where Taeyong’s eyes had been staring at the most throughout the last hour.

“Can’t help it I guess.” Taeyong’s reply was cheeky, as he gave his friend a wink.

“It’s going to be fun watching them when the real fun kicks in.”

Prologue | Chapter one | Chapter two

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @rotinyzen @wonyoungmywife @snflwrhaerecs4u @thegreenlynx @serinebsblog @hanniehq @delululi @bubusebu @bunnychui @molensworld @morkiee @marvelahsobx @kaciebello @kgneptun

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[woeswrites]

Yandere Will Graham

Warnings: Yandere themes, Obsessive behaviors, Brief mention of rape/rapist, Dubious consent (mention of sex while under the influence), etc.

Notes: I am trying to be active again (fingers crossed). Headcannons are a really easy way for me to get the creative juices flowing. Don't be surprised if a few more come out after this one lol.

You were a recent survivor of an attack

No, it wasn't the Chesapeake Ripper

It was just some other wannabe serial killer trying to get his rocks off

He had a dumb, stereotypical name too

The midnight slasher? midnight butcher?

Something like that

The media wasn't very creative with it

Whatever his name was, he'd clearly had a type

Young men

All of a similar stature

With the same hair and eye color

All known to known be up at all hours of the day

It was a pretty open and shut case in Will's eyes

He was a plain and simple lust killer

Most likely white and in his 30s-40s

Classic closet case turned homicidal

He hadn't seen why the FBI was so stumped on the whole thing

The only real trouble was the lack of DNA evidence

He'd been real good at cleaning up after himself

Will knew he'd slip up eventually

This wasn't the type of guy to be so well organized for long

Well--

Does being murdered by your most recent victim count as a slip up?

Because that's exactly what happened

He was called to the scene with the rest of the team

The sight of you trembling, covered in blood, and standing over top of that creep was his first impression

You met his eyes and he was unable to pull away

Something about your tear blotched face held him captive

Jack tasked him with asking you questions about the events at hand

Normally this would have annoyed Will

He wasn't the talking type

Let alone someone sensitive enough to make such a traumatized person feel comfortable

But something in him didn't mind so much

Maybe it was the way you looked so vulnerable

Or the fact that no matter how much he pushed the idea away, he saw himself in you

An innocent man turned murderer under the right circumstances

"I'm Will Graham and I'll be asking you some questions."

"God, okay. I'm Y/n. Can't really say it's nice to meet you."

Will tried to start off slow

Ask the basics before moving onto the more pertinent information

You'd answer to the best of your abilities (considering the circumstances)

It took Will a second to jot down your responses

He'd get a little too caught up in your features to notice you'd stop talking

"Sorry, what was that? You got off work at 9?"

There was something admirable about your attempts to infuse your story with a bit of dry humor

Likely a coping mechanism

But Will found himself smiling a bit at your quips

By the time he'd finish up with you he'd felt a little attachment form

Sure the case was over on his end

But it didn't stop him from asking Jack about you

At least a couple times a week

"How's things going with that self defense case? Y/n's...?"

Will showed up the next day with your case fill on his desk

The sticky note stuck to it warned about annoying Jack with too many questions

He'd spend all night re-reading the details

Without noticing he began slipping in and out of re-enactment mode

Imagining you on top of him

Knife in hand

Crazed look in your eyes

He tried to shake the image away

He shouldn't be doing this

It wasn't right

You could've died that night

His guilt ridden thoughts did nothing to lessen the tent that had formed in his pajama pants

He tried to push the idea of you out of his head

Usually he'd have more control over himself than this

His resolve was strong at first

He'd hidden the manila folder away in the depths of his lower drawer

Telling himself he'd drop it

That worked for a couple of days

That was before he started dreaming of you

Events that he hadn't preformed himself took ahold of him

He became your attacker that night

He chased you

He ripped apart your clothes

He was the one who you fought off

He's the one who you thrust that knife into

And he loved every second of it

Wait--

No, he couldn't

This was just his empathy disorder

Yeah!

He was just in character

This definitely wasn't him

He would never want to do any of that stuff

And he'd prove it

He had memorized that file from front to back at this point

It wouldn't be weird that he'd known your address

He was an FBI consultant

It was basically warranted

Will found himself picking out his best clothes that night

His newest jeans, tailored shirt, the works

Not for any particular reason

And his bed was definitely not littered with rejected articles of clothing

This was just going to be a simple checkup, it's not like it really mattered what he looked like

He showed up on your doorstep with the nicest bottle of wine he could find

"Will? Is that you?"

"Uh, yeah it is. Would I be able to come in?"

You welcomed him in, albeit a little confused

"I thought my case was cleared..."

"That's not what I'm here for. I just wanted to check in on you."

You smiled at this

And Will felt his heart ache

You'd invite him to join in on your sorry excuse for a dinner

He'd never accepted anything so fast before in his life

It didn't take long before the two of you got into the wine he'd brought

It was innocent enough at first

Just drinking and talking

You'd mention how life was after the attack

Will shared a little about his experience with GJH

Its the first time he had ever felt so utterly connected with another person before

But then the two of you got a little more than tipsy

And Will found himself leaning in

One kiss turned into another and another

Will felt a sense of static overtake him

Every touch between the two of you sent shivers up his spine

He felt the strong urge to consume

Before either of you knew it your clothes were now in a heap on the kitchen floor

You woke up the next morning with a splitting headache

Oh-- and an FBI agent in your bed

Shock was an understatement

That was when the memories of the previous night flooded back

Will woke up at the loss of warmth

Last night was the best he had slept in years

You wrapped tight in his arms, bodies perfectly intertwined

His heart sank at the look of regret on your face

"We definitely shouldn't have done that. I think you should leave Will..."

He couldn't just leave now

Not knowing what he did

That you two were made for one another

He'd try to calm you down

"Y/n let's talk about this."

You weren't having it

Mentioning how inappropriate this all was

You'd shove his clothes into his arms

Will tried to console you

Not realizing why you were so worked up

You both did just have the best night of your life after all

You'd back away but he'd continue approaching

"C'mon I know you don't really want me to go. Let's just take a second before we make any rash decisions"

"We aren't doing anything. I want you to go. Now."

Something about him coming over while you were still recovering from your distress and it all leading to this...

It just didn't feel right

Will tried to approach once more but you pushed him away

He couldn't help the smile that made its way onto his face

"Push me. Go on, make it hurt."

You were absolutely bewildered

He reached out and grabbed ahold of you

His grip was almost crushing

Like he was holding on for dear life

"I won't leave you alone that easily. Fate brought us together for a reason. You feel it too right? We're one in the same. We're each other's destiny."

He looked crazed, sweat slipping from his brow

It felt just like that night all over again

The knife in your hand as your attacker bled out

Only now Will took his place underneath you

[trumpkinhotboy]

Chronic protective brother syndrome

Pairing: big brother!nick nelson x little sister!reader

Type: Request (thank you so much!!)

Warnings: Mention of fainting, having a chronic illness, but nothing too intense

Word count: 1900

Requests: Open! For Heartstopper, twilight wolfpack, chronicles of narnia and harry potter

A/n: honestly… i dont have much to say except that i love writing for requests and that big brother nick makes me weak in the knees. Hope you enjoy angels xxx

*gif is not mine

Summary: The reader has been living with diabetes her whole life. She's grown quite accustomed to it and manages it well with the help of her supportive family. Although sometimes, support can feel a little suffocating...

Through your 14 years of existence, you have grown quite accustomed to life with type 1 diabetes. As you grew up and became more conscious of what it meant to live with a chronic disease, you learned to accept and care for yourself quite well. 

Your mother, Sarah, was a real trooper and never let you down, always carrying you when you felt exhausted and done with your condition, which did happen more often than you care to admit. Luckily, you also had someone else in your corner: your older brother. 

Nick is known to be quite protective. Especially with the people he cares for. However, that aspect of his personality gained a new high when you were born, and your mother explained why you could never do everything just as he did. Of course, you would still be able to do most of them. You would simply need to be a little more careful. 

Sarah remembers very clearly the look in little Nick’s eyes when she explained why you were always sick. You were resting in bed after a substantial flare-up when his eyes welled up with tears. That's when he finally understood that there was something in your own body that would always try to fight and hurt itself. That’s also when he promised himself he would do everything to protect you. Your mum still tells that story with a few tears welling up in her eyes. 

Nick knew you could have a lot of complications from your disease. To avoid them, he always made sure you had everything you needed at all times. You usually didn't mind, seeing how your ADHD sometimes made it a little harder for you to remember to pack your stuff. Plus, the fatigue diabetes often fogged you with did not help in that department. 

The thing is you were now 14 years old, finally starting to make new friends and explore the jungle that is social life in high school. So when your 16-year-old brother comes over, and all your lady friends swoon over him, or worse, when he comes over to baby you, it gets a little irritating. Luckily, Nick was quite stubborn about that stuff and was not about to let you get hurt just because of the image you wanted to project.

That was until you made quite a scene in front of everyone.

You had been feeling particularly irritated and moody that day. So when you saw your brother walk over to you with a backup diabetes kit, which was his creation, you felt anger boil in your blood.

It did not help to hear some nasty year 10 make jokes from a picnic table near your friends and you. "Oh, would you look at that? Diabetes Nelson still needs her big brother to bring her her little drugs. I don't understand how someone like him could be related to her."

It was stupid. It wasn't even a good insult. Plus, the people who kept making comments were not something to be impressed with. Still, you couldn't help the shame from creeping on your cheeks.

So this time, when your big brother came to check on you and offered you your safety pouch, you refused.

"I already have the normal one. I don't need this one."

"I know, but I don't think you've put the new insulin shots in. I brought you the safety one just in case."

The snickers you heard from the people behind had you gritting your teeth. You couldn't understand their exact words, but you knew it wasn't positive. 

"Don't you have anything better to do than watch over me all day?" you hissed. "I'm not stupid Nick."

Your diabetes also made you prone to mood swings, mostly when your blood sugar levels were too high or low. That's why Nick usually did not make a big deal out of these outbursts, but this time felt different. Hurt flashed in his eyes, and briefly, you regretted the words.

"I never said that. I just want to make sure you have everything you need. You know the risks." His tone was soft, his gaze focused on you. He tried as much as he could not to make a big deal out of this, but your reaction had the exact opposite effect. He knew how the fear of being judged could make a person act in such a terrible way. 

"I don't need you to remind me how weak and useless my body is, okay? I'm the one living with diabetes, Nick. Not you." You whispered angrily.

You grabbed your bag and left him planted there without looking back. Nick and you were usually like two peas in a pod, and to leave him there hurt much more than you would care to admit. 

You got back in class, trying to act normal, but after an hour in, you felt queasy and feeble. You had indulged in some sweets some friends offered after your altercation with Nick, brushing off the risk with your ongoing anger. Subtly, you pricked your finger and couldn't help your eyes from growing two sizes when you saw the little numbers your tracker presented. You were in hyperglycemia and urgently needed to get a shot of insulin. Swiftly, you asked to be excused from the class and headed for the bathroom. The walls seemed to shake around you, and your vision kept warping up. Cursing yourself for being this dumb, you opened your bag with shaking hands, searching for your shots.

"Shit."

There was only one thing worse than fighting with Nick, and it was when you realized he had been right. You mumbled under your breath, trying to stay calm and figure out a quick solution because this was becoming urgent, and you needed the care right now. Calling Nick would do no good since he was at Truham anyway. You decided to head back to class to ask for your teacher's help, but once you tried climbing the stairs, a thousand little dots started dancing around. You were able to mutter an 'I feel kinda dizzy' before everything turned black.

You awoke to a commotion. Distorted sounds and everything around you moved too fast to register. Someone was holding your hand while you felt a pinch in your arm. 

"It's okay, it's okay Y/n. You're going to be okay. I'm here."

You knew that voice. You lifted your gaze with an effort and only saw a flash of red hair before darkness swallowed you once more.

This time, when you woke up, everything was silent and peaceful. You were lying in a bed, a hospital bed, with an IV drip set up in your arm. Nick was resting in the chair next to you, his worried eyes set on his phone as he quickly typed.

"Hey," you croaked. 

His head whipped up in surprise when he heard your voice. He immediately dropped his phone to come by your side. His hand flew to your forehead. The coolness of it felt incredibly refreshing as you leaned into the touch.

"Hey, kid," he whispered. He tried putting a smile on his face, but it couldn't hide the worry he was truly feeling.

"So, I'm guessing I fainted? And someone found me? And they panicked ?"

"Panicked is an understatement."

He explained that Imogen found you at the bottom of the stairs. She didn't know whether you had fallen from them or just fainted at the bottom, so she immediately called for help and texted him.

"I ran to Higgs faster than Charlie ever could," he added with a smirk, his joke stealing a chuckle from your chest.

"I'm sorry for causing such a commotion. I should wear a bracelet that says fainting is normal for me so people won't worry."

His gaze hardened at your comment. "Fainting is not normal for you. It's a bad sign, and you know it."

You sheepishly dropped your gaze. Okay, he wasn't ready to make jokes about it yet. Charlie would have laughed, you secretly thought.

"I don't understand why you pulled that crap. I just wanted to help you." 

You lay back in bed with a sigh and covered your eyes with your forearm. You did know Nick only wanted to help, but still. His kind gestures irritated you so much sometimes.

"It's already hard enough to be the sick kid. That was my only thing when I was in middle school. I thought now I could step away from it, that I could be someone else. Be known for other things than my messed up immune system." 

You noticed Nick's expression softened once you uncovered your eyes. 

"And I know you want to help and trust me, I appreciate it. It's just that sometimes it feels like you don't believe in me. Like you don't think I'm capable of doing stuff. Instead of helping me become stronger, you keep worrying me with your horror scenarios."

It was now Nick's turn to look all sheepish and guilty. You might have been right in saying he tended to get a little paranoid when you wanted to try new things. He only thought about protecting you. He never realized the effect it would have on your self-esteem. 

"I'm tired of being afraid. I've looked it up, and there are so many people with diabetes who are doing amazing things. I can stay healthy and still be a badass kid who tries new stuff."

He looked up, his eyes holding so much uncertainty and fear. Though through it all, love was the strongest thing in his gaze. He grabbed your hand once again with a tight smile.

"I hear you, I'm sorry. I never thought it would make you feel like this, or else I wouldn't have done it."

"Nick." You gave him a knowing look.

"Okay, okay. I might have still done it, but only because you're my baby sister, and I want you to be healthy and have a long, long life, okay?"

You nodded while tightening your grip on his hand. 

"I promise I will be less overbearing, and I will support you in whatever new thing you want to try."

"Thanks, Nick, and for school, could you maybe not come and do your big brother number in front of all my friends? I appreciate the gesture, but I'm over dealing with the dumbasses." 

He sighed heavily but still agreed to your request. "About that, just a piece of advice. I've learned that sometimes the thing we are afraid will show our weakness or vulnerability only does when we allow it to. Once you reclaim your power and own it, it all switches around. Anyone who has something to say about it will suddenly disappear, or you won't care what they have to say anymore."

You nodded sheepishly. You honestly didn't care about your diabetes. I mean, it could be a gigantic pain, and you would have to be careful for the rest of your life. But all in all, you were pretty lucky. You had your condition mostly under control when you weren't a sassy dumbass, and you had the best support system someone could wish for. 

"Look at me. You're going to be okay kiddo." Your brother squeezed your hand tighter in a reassuring motion. 

You lifted your head to meet his supportive gaze and smiled in return. Yes, you would be okay.

[arioloyal]

Sepandarmazgan

Part 4

(King baldwin iv x reader)

Warning: none

A/n : This part of the story is narrated by a knight named Kristous. I have decided to give this story a philosophical and romantic aspect so that can't just be a boring lovestory . Merry Christmas to all my Christian friends. I hope your dreams and wishes come true this year♡

Like and reblogs are appreciated

Kristous pov:

Our jaws were still dropped from our mouths and our face were pale. We were all waiting for lord lusignan today when we suddenly saw lady y/n just enter the door. What were we left to do? We had heard enough terrible things about her, especially from Reynald de Chatillon, when we saw her appear before us like that, we unconsciously felt a little fear. But her behavior seemed very kind and friendly. After welcoming us one by one, she said that she came here to have a little talk with lord Guy de Lusignan.

I was afraid that something would happen. I said, "lord...lord Lusignan doesn't usually welcome uninvited guests, especially guests who find their way into his secret meetings. It's better to go now and talk to him personally later."

Lady y/n said, “God bless all of you knights of the Holy Land. Thank you for the warning, but sometimes it takes an incident to solve some problems.”

What?! She had read my mind? Honestly, I had heard before that y/n could read people's minds.

"Don't worry," she continued, " this conversation won't last long."

jerard was sitting next to me. He bent down and whispered in my ear: "Look at this rude woman! She has come to the secret hall! She's really the devil of Jerusalem."

I shook my head, but to be honest, I didn't saw anything like the devil in her. The image she made of herself in my mind was that of a pious, faithful, frank and bold woman. I kept my thoughts to myself.

A few minutes later, Guy entered the door. He seemed to be deep in thought, his eyebrows were close to each other. He hadn't taken a single step. he froze there and looked at the uninvited guest.

"What is this infidel woman doing here? Why did you let her disturb our secret meeting?"

We knights looked at each other but before we could answer, y/n interrupted him and said that she had been walking around the palace when she happened to come across here and wanted to see a man who hate her the most in the entire of Jerusalem.

Some of the knights coughed nervously and embarrassedly. I looked at jerard, he was also nervous and worried. There was such anxiety in the air that you could even touch it with your hand.

Lord Lusignan said, "I don't care why you came here. I have more important things to do than talk to you. You have no right to be here at all. Hurry up and get out."

Lady y/n said, "I see you don't want to talk in front of me. But behind my back you gossip like a nightingale, no one can stop you. You have a habit of gossiping behind me and the king and making dirty accusations. Now Since we have occupied your mind so much, you probably have some questions. go ahead! I'm listening!"

:"I have nothing to do with you. Whatever I need to know, I know. all these knights as well."

At that moment, lady y/n turned to us and raised her voice, "If someone says, 'I know everything I need to know,' they should not be known as your lord, but as a fool." . Only the ignorant think they know everything."

Guy's face was red with anger. Until today, no one had been seen with such boldness in the palace.

:"In that case, come and ask these knights: Which one is more important for Jerusalem? The holy soldiers and defenders of Jerusalem or a wandering madman who does nothing but pry and ask questions and whose mind is always distracted?"

All the people present there took the guy's side, but I felt that most of them are not honest and just want to gain his trust.

Lady y/n asked, :"You sit everywhere and with everyone and talk behind my back. You say I was sent by the devil. Okay, now that's the case, please tell me what a devil is?”

Lord Lusignan, who now had a good opportunity to express himself, said: "devil is the worst enemy to man and humanity, and always walks among us in disguise. Sometimes in the form of a poor and seemingly innocent human, and sometimes in the form of a beautiful woman. comes to encourage us to get out of the right path. The devil appears in different forms that we don't expect it at all. For example, may appear in the form of a traveling and ordinary girl. But the faithful soldiers of Christ, won't listen to such a evil. "They never allow you to enter their privacy." Then he examined her from head to toe.

Lady y/n smiled as if she was expecting this insult and said,: "I know what you mean. But it was so easy! It's good for us to always look for the devil in others, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" he asked hesitantly.

:"Well, if the devil is as cunning and powerful as you say and is always waiting for an opportunity to be by our side, what is the need for us, the humans, to blame ourselves for the mistakes that we have done with our own wish? we usually say that all sins is because of the devil and all good is from the god, so what exactly we're doing here as a human? In this way, there is no reason to ask ourselves questions and make up for our mistakes. We blame everything either on Satan or on God. Let's go. See ? how easy it is?"

:"You either have a lot of courage and intelligence or you're very stupid to talk about such things to such people." Guy said to y/n

But she continued talking as if she didn't hear his voice and started walking in the hall between us.

: "a human is such a complex being that he can prepare both heaven and hell for himself. is the highest creation of God. However, can become higher than high or lower than low. If we understood the meaning of this deeply, Then we wouldn't look for the devil outside, but inside our own soul. The only thing we need is to check ourselves, not to look for mistakes in others."

jerard said from the corner with a mocking tone: "You, fire worshiper, you better check yourself first. I hope one day you will answer for the lies you're saying."

:"So let me tell you a story," she said.

... Four merchants were praying in an empty church. At the same time, the head of the merchants joins them. The first merchant abandons his prayer and immediately asks: "Then what will happen to these loads of silk that we were supposed to take with us?"

The second merchant abandons his prayer and says to his friend: You fool! Don't you know that you should not talk to anyone during prayer? Now all your prayers will be null and void."

The third merchant also made such statements.

The fourth merchant couldn't bear it anymore. he whispered: Look at these fools! All three of them gave up their prayers. thanks to the god, i didn't allow myself to be deceived and stop my worship with idle words like them."

After finishing this story, y/n turned to the knights and asked, "Well, what do you think? Which one of these four merchants do you think had their prayers accepted by the god?"

There was a wave in the hall, some of the templars thought, some started to discuss the answer. Finally, one of them shouted from the bottom of the hall: "The prayers of the second, third and fourth merchants are not accepted. Only the first merchant is innocent because he only asked to consult his boss."

Another one said: "Yes, but he shouldn't have left his prayer half-done. In my opinion, except for the fourth one, the rest of the merchants were wrong. The fourth merchant was only talking to himself."

I looked away from them. I wasn't sure that any of these two answers were correct. But I preferred not to say anything. If I say my opinion, probably no one would like it. Suddenly, y/n stood up, pointed at me and asked.

Well, what do you think?!"

I said: "If these merchants have a fault, it is that they stopped worship and spoke. Their main mistake was that instead of focusing on God and the truth of the prayer they recited, they started criticizing each other." Their thoughts are somewhere else and all their senses are distracted. Now if we judge them, we will also commit the same sin."

One of those bigoted knights interrupted me: "What do you want to say?"

I answered: "I say that all four merchants are wrong for the same reason. But on the other hand, it's not right to judge them because I don't know which one of them was accepted by the Lord. As a person, I only do my work and deal with my own mistakes. I have nothing to do with others but protect them."

Lady y/n gave me such an admiring look that I felt like I was being praised by the whole world. she asked my name. "Kristous, my lady," I said.

At that time y/n turned to the rest of the templars and knights and said:" your friend is a true knight, maybe he is not aware of this fact yet. But his soul is very similar to the pious men. I think that Now you understand the difference between a fanatic and a true knight. You must be very careful about your thoughts. Because the disease caused by thoughts is much worse than physical disease, and bigotry is a disease worse than leprosy. will take all your soul and faith away . Be more careful in choosing your friends."

lord Guy, who couldn't take it anymore, angrily left the hall and slammed the door behind him. if she wasn't the king's special guest, im sure she would be behaded right there.

A few people laughed a little after he left, but y/n said with obvious sadness in her voice, :"I've met hundreds of knights and members of this palace so far, some of them were very honest and sincere people like the king. But some, even a little bit They did not understood the real Christianity properly and only used it for their own benefit. It is true that I am not a Christian, but this much I understood that it is possible to live with someone despite all the differences without causing harm. The true love of God is never combined with ambition for power . And I wouldn't never exchange it to wealth."

she raised her head and returned to her previous determination: "That's enough for today. What you witnessed today is the separation of mind and heart. This duality exists in all religions. Make your choices!"

she was silent for a while, as if she was waiting for us to understand her words.

:"In any case, neither your lord Lusignan knows more than he should know, nor do I. Maybe he is blind, and I am also blind. The important thing is that the blindness of a person doesn't harm the sun. The discussion of people with different religions is also has no effect on God. Now you understand why your king always prefers peace."

she put her hand on her chest and said goodbye to all of us and left us all alone in that hall with thousands of questions.

I raised my head for a moment and was horrified by what I saw. I saw the king who witnessed all the events from behind the columns of the upper floor. I wanted to inform everyone but he gave me a sign that I should remain silent. Today was supposed to be a day full of mystery. didn't end well...

To be continued...

[emiplayzmc]

Y'know what, frick it - random post to add onto my previous Addison ref sheet with random Addison / Spamton headcanons, complete with worldbuilding stuff as well :D

Long post under the cut, ^^"

Part 1: Body Reference Sheet + Anatomy Headcanons

Part 3: Main 4 Designs

-Addisons are highly advanced AI models based around human / Lightner minds. Because of that, they are VERY social people! It's rare to see any Addison that doesn't have even a single person it considers a friend or family member or SO, and those end up being pretty tight-knit relationships.

-Being robots, Addisons are unable to have any biological relations. However, it's very common for Addisons to have family members - just in a nonbiological sense! Basically, if they form a strong enough connection with someone and spend enough time with them, their CPU's are wired to think 'oh hey. this person is my sibling :)' Sibling relations are the most common familial bond between Addisons, but occasionally there are some with parent/child relations.

-Adding onto the last one, I like to see the main Blue, Yellow, Pink, and Orange Adds as being siblings to Spamton, :D The blue and yellow Addisons are the eldest, Spamton and the pink Add are close in age (Spamton being the younger one), and the orange one is the youngest.

-Addisons all use the name 'Addison' as their last name, along with a first name that reflects the type of advertising that they work in / represent (Examples: Click, Banner, Radio). Naturally, this results in a lot of similar names if there are Addisons who work in the same advertisement field. Thus, Addisons have middle names as well, and those function like last names for them.

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-Not all Addisons have the same shade of colour to their casing, so that's a defining feature that many of them have - no two Addisons are the same colour (besides an Addison and their Copycat. More on that later in the post)! (Example image below)

-When stressed, different colours of Addisons have different ways of their systems starting to overcompensate - Orange Addisons overheat, Pink Addisons overfrost, Yellow Addisons produce a lot more static electricity that can occasionally jump to other people and objects, and Blue Addisons are the only ones out of the bunch that can actually perspire!  White Addisons / Glitches just overheat.

-Different colours of Addisons are typically glitches in the system - in other words, the Cyber World got confused when making the code for a specific Addison, thus making their colours glitch and mix with two or more Addison colours, resulting in Green (Yellow and Blue mixed colours), Purple (Pink and Blue mixed colours) and White Addisons (all colours at once). White Addisons are the rarest glitches, and only one White glitch is known to exist - Spamton. However, the other glitch colours are still less in population than the other main four colours. There are no other known glitch colours.

-Addisons don’t really age!  Physically or mentally.  As long as they have consistent repairs and take good care of their bodies, they essentially are immortal.  Dented leg?  Just get it repaired!  Destroyed faceplate?  They have replacements available!  Faulty CPU?  Tricky, but the Ambyu-Lances should be able to get it fixed up properly! They spawn in when the Cyber World creates their code as fully functional adult-minded Addisons.

-Adding to the last one, that only difference between a newly created Addison and an Add that's been around for a while is that new Addis pretty much have a one-track mind - find a job and start working. Over time, their minds develop more of their personalities, life views, opinions, etc. It usually takes about three to four months for an Addison's CPU to be like that of a fully operational adult human.

-When working a job, Addisons usually own their own storefront websites by themselves, but a few other Addisons have employees or work for other people - the ones with employees are usually the more successful Addisons in the city, like 'Big Shot' era Spamton.

-Yellow Addisons are filled with static energy as a result of their electrical magic. Therefore, their magic is a lot more physically damaging than other Addisons’ magic, and it’s quite easy for them to use. And, even without using magic, they can usually use that static electricity anyway like a reserve of power. Basically? Be friends with a Yellow Addison, and you'll never have to worry about losing power again. They can just come over and jumpstart a dead battery or turn the lights back on in your house :)

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-The Cyber World has a Dark Web side to the city - basically, it's a shadier part of Cyber City that's less in population, but the large majority of its residents are scam artists, criminals, et cetera. The Dark Web has its own Addisons as well, though they don't occur naturally.

-The Dark Web Addisons are known as Copycats / Trojan Addisons (though Trojans are a less common term for them). They only spawn in if a naturally spawned Addison enters the Dark Web side of the city. Basically, they're mirror versions of the Addison themself, usually holding most of the same personality traits, advertisement types, and personal styles as the Addison they copied, though in a way that's meant to scam and trick people.

-Copycats usually spawn with the same name as the one they're copying, but some change their names to better fit THEIR OWN purposes (example: an Addison named Click has a Copycat of themselves - the Copycat decides to name themselves 'Clickbait'). Not all Copycats are scammers, but most are.

-The only physical difference between an Addison and their Copycat is a marking on the Copycat's shoulder - they usually have a symbol like the Web Browser (the globe made of blue lines?), but with a neon green eye in the center of it.

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The brainrot over these fictional salesmen is enormous right now, thank you for coming to my TED talk

[sh1-n0bu]

Hey God it's me again. Back by nobody's request once again: Me, 🦝.

Can we talk about Heizou?

Trick question. I WILL talk about Heizou and YOU WILL listen.

I like him so much the little skrunkly Mr canon daddy issues. Mr I want my father to be proud of me and it hurts. Mr I need to be the best and I'll still not be enough.

I love him a lot. I know I'm usually here to be horny but tbh today I'm not. I just feel bad for him. We all talk about Kazuha's my-best-friend-died-in-my-arms story but Heizou's is completely ignored. It's the ptsd for me. It's the family issues for me. It's the other people have a false image of the nature of his being for me. It's the hidden insecurities, the silent overthinking for me. Like bro did anyone ever pay attention to how careful he is with the traveler because he doesn't want to scare them off. It's the no friends (only mildly derogatory) for me.

It's the everything for me. My brain pointed at this little dude and went "that one" and now I think about him. All the time. I just want to hold him. Like bestie is u good? Do you need a hug? Some comfort? Some therapy? I will smooch him very lovingly mwah mwah

✿ 𝙨𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨 ✿

characters: heizou x nb!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, PTSD, reverse comfort, insecurity, heizou’s just having a very very bad day😢reader and heizou’s not in a relationship yet

notes: SAME 🦝 NONNIE! i’ve reached friendship lvl10 with heizou and i read all stories of the characters whether i like them or not and heizou’s just made me cry😭😭😭 his only friend died out in public, in his arms, saying “i… i came to see you too”. i just cosnfijdnfjsjf

also i wrote this while listening to mitski and shed good few tears here and there 🦝 anon😔👍

detective shikanoin heizou of the tenryou commission is a name that’s widely known for it’s incredible intelligence, witty remarks and boy-ish charms. however that’s not all there is of heizou.

at 2 in the morning, when someone knocks on your door and wakes you up from your nice dreams, it’s safe to say that you’re ready to throw hands unless it’s an emergency. but then again almost every time you’re awoken at an unholy hours is because it’s an emergency.

‘this better be something good ‘cause i have a long day of commissions tomorrow’ throwing on a haori on top of your loose yukata, stumbling to the front door of your little house, the least person you expected to wake you up was the renowned detective of the tenryou commission.

immediately thinking of what you did that could’ve been considered law-breaking, one came into mind. but hey, you had to sock that guy because he was troubling the traveler when they were on the brink of collapsing!

“…hey, sorry to wake you up so late” heizou’s voice snapped you out of your little mind-ramble.

“oh no, it’s fine. would you like to come in?” nodding and quietly shuffling into your house, heizou seemed just so… quiet. most of the times he would spend time with you, he would be rambling about the newest case he got, how the criminals are getting dumber and dumber everyday or just about things in general.

asking him if he would like something to drink and sitting in your kitchen at 2am with the detective just silently staring at his glass of water was concerning. moreover there were dry tear tracks on his face and his clothes seemed half-heartedly thrown on.

after a while of just sitting in a deafening silence, heizou started to talk. about how he wants to be seen as the perfect reliable detective, how he wants his dad to be proud of him, about how his only childhood friend was a fraud and a thief, how after a year of staying out of contact, he met his friend again only for them to be bleeding out on the side of the road of the festival.

when recalling how his only friend had told him he wanted to see him as well, while holding a bloodied green pebble from his wallet which had no mora, only the pebble, the tears that filled his eyes fell. choking on his words, trying to apologize for dumping all of his problems on you, this was also heizou.

the same shikanoin heizou that throws around flirty remarks with you. the same shikanoin heizou that catches criminals left and right like they were just passing by him in the streets. the same shikanoin heizou who proudly declared he wanted to stop evil.

“i-i’m sorry hic i didn’t mean to dump-oomf!” being held close to your chest and telling him it was okay and that you understand was the last breaking point for him. sobbing out loudly like a child and clinging to you like a lifeline, this was also shikanoin heizou. your heizou.

after exhausting all his strength, you simply carried him to your bed for him to rest.

to heizou he felt like he was being gently cradled by the sun. so soft, warm and inviting.

to heizou, you were the only one to truly see who he was and not run away.

to heizou, you are the one he fell for and damn did he fell for the perfect person.

to heizou, your arms felt like home.

[contentloadingandstuff]

Hu Tao x Doctor!Reader

CW: Swearing, Male!Reader. I wonder who will catch all 4 references? Tips: One book, one comic book, one animation, one real life case. If someone does, they'll get a gold star from me! :D

I'M SORRY I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF-

What a pairing. The bright and sunny funeral director, Hu Tao, and the cynical but still good doctor Y/N. 

One benefits from ended lives, the other from saving them… This poses a fair amount of questions, doesn't it? 

No wonder, then, that you're not as popular as doctor Baizhu, especially with kids. Though honesty is usually considered a virtue, well… Let's say that it's not the case here. 

Though some call you a quack, Baizhu and Changsheng see the truth. You have good intentions, you have the necessary skill and knowledge, but all the years of not-so-casual field work desensitized you quite a bit. 

Y/N: Let me tie this, and we can begin.  Milelith soldier: Gods it hurts… Just… Just hurry, doctor. Please… I don't know if I can take it…  Y/N: Don't worry, my friend. You will manage, worst case you pass out. A leg is still better than your life, right?  Milelith soldier: I suppose…  Y/N: I learned from the best. My professor in Fontaine could make an amputation in just about 153 seconds, can you believe that? Truly impressive.  Milelith soldier: Oh… I see… How so?  Y/N: Impressive in the sense that it allowed the only case of 300% mortality rate to occur.  Milelith soldier: W-what does that mean?  Y/N: It's a funny story, let me tell you! A bystander died of a heart attack while witnessing the procedure, the patient later died of gangrene, and the saw cut off the fingers of the doctor's assistant, who later died of gangrene as well. That's skill, isn't it? Three for the price of one!  Milelith soldier: ...  Y/N: Well, not that funny. But don't fret, he saved more lives than he ended. Anyway, we'll take our time. Can't have any of you dying, can I?  Soldiers: *nervous laugh* Y/N: Here, bite down on this. And you two - hold him, just in case. 

Due to your skill in general medicine and surgery, especially the emergency variety, Ningguang deemed you to be a most valuable asset to Liyue. Putting up with your unsettling remarks and dark jokes is nothing when compared to all the lives you save regularly, especially among the Milelith and miners. 

Just… Why do you seem to actively try to undermine your fairly good public image? It's Hu Tao's influence, no doubt about that. 

Hu Tao: Buy a coffin, and the second will cost you nothing!  Y/N: But wait! Before you pass, take those pills to help with gas! 

The two of you are probably the most well-known couple in Liyue. Some find your complementary quirkiness adorable, while others keep a safe distance. Your demeanor may be unusual, to say the least, but the statistics speak for themselves - the essentially non-existent mortality rate of your procedures earns you respect amongst those you've helped. 

Some think of your sense of humor as harmful, but you'll hear the opposite if you ask your patients. A joke, even if it's gallows humor, can help immensely.

Hu Tao likes your sense of humor, though she can't help but worry a little. The stories are told in a funny way, but the topics are rarely such. 

Y/N: I have your test results, sir.  Old man: Please make haste, doctor. I don't have all day.  Y/N: Aw shucks, who told you? 

She understands how exhausting your profession is, how mentally challenging it may be. There are people you can't save, no matter how hard you try. There are those that can be, but they disobey your orders. If you make mistakes, you're always the one to blame. They rarely recognise your effort. More - some treat you as a fraud, a killer in disguise. 

Y/N: Have you heard of the surgeon's regularity, Hu?  Hu Tao: Aiya, do tell!  Y/N: If the patient dies, it's your fault. If they live, it's a miracle. 

Hu Tao loves listening to the many stories you've gathered over the years! 

The skill you hold in the field of medicine earned you the respect of many throughout the nations - commoners, aristocrats, generals, and even the Raiden Shogun herself. Due to your priceless service in the Shogunate's army, your Hydro Vision was never taken away, and you, even as an outlander, got the full freedom of movement and social rights in Inazuma. 

With your actions, you showed the Inazumans that a doctor isn't a coward. You attended the battles sometimes, standing alongside the other soldiers. They say it's bravery, but… Truly, the battlefield is the biggest test compound there is! 

Kujou Sara: Doctor! Are you sure this will work?  Y/N, firing up a Hydro beam: Hahaha, I have no idea! 

You finished med school in Fontaine, your homeland. You earned your license and started your career there, but you weren't very popular amongst the public and the officials. The reason? Well… 

Y/N: Ladies and gentlemen, have you wondered how you can serve science? Serve medicine? Serve mankind? Well, do I have an offer for you! In fact, we doctors are not sure how some things inside us humans work, and what we use can, at times, look like black magic, but rest assured - it's just ignorance. How can you assist us in making progress then, you ask? Sign this waver today! With a flick of your wrist you can donate your body to science and be the stepping stone for ground breaking progress! We'll crack you open after you kick the bucket, see what makes you tick, stitch you back up nice and tidy and give you back. Your family will get a compensation of 100 000 Mora. More - sign it now, ladies and gentlemen, and get a free wine voucher! Tell me, isn't that the offer of a lifetime? 

Anyway, that's how you lost your medical license. You were 'unprofessional', they said. 

After that you went to Inazuma, spending a year there before moving on to the land of wisdom. The researchers of Sumeru quickly recognised your experience, and looked into granting you an official license in an alternative procedure. Amurta professors were impressed by your ability to do your job with even the most bare-bones of tools, in harsh conditions, and succeed at treatment at the same time. 

Y/N, cooking up a rudimentary antidote: Don't stress, Y/N. It's just a tiny scorpion sting. Just a little life-and-death scenario. No reason to panic.  Eremite, choking: Doc… tor, that's n-not my name…  Y/N: Yeah, I know. 

While the paperwork was in progress, you visited Natlan for some time. It was the true unofficial test of your skills. Tropical diseases, the immense heat, the endless flood of combat wounds… But you just rolled up your sleeves and got to work, just like in Inazuma. 

Y/N: ... and I tell her: sorry, I can't treat you - I'm a family doctor, and you're an orphan!  Both: *laughter* Y/N: Whew… Anyway, that's why they kicked me out of the Teyvatian Association for Children's Medicine. Gladiator: Some folk can't take a joke huh… Um, doctor? Should I be awake for this?  Y/N: Haha, well… No. But since you already are, can you help me open up your chest cavity? I can't… seem… to…  Gladiator: *scream* Y/N: Oh, don't be such a Treasure Hoarder. Ribs grow back!  Gladiator: I don't think so… You sure, doctor?  Y/N: Yeah, if trimmed. You don't need it to survive. But that'll be another 75k.  Gladiator: Eh, do it doc. My insurance will cover it.  Y/N: I hope so! Else… *cracks knuckles*

The Akademiya offered you the place of the leader of an exchange project with The Fatui of Snezhnaya, due to your extensive experience in the field. You agreed, of course. In the land of Cryo you learned about gunshot wounds, frostbite and radiation poisoning (stemming from equipement factories), adding their treatment to your already long list of capabilities. The competition was possibly the biggest in Teyvat, since Fatui doctors and medics are the best money can buy. 

Electrohammer Vanguard: Job twoju mat’... Fuck… It hurts like a bitch… Y/N: Yeah, yeah, I know. A little quieter, please? A mistake now would be fatal. Electrohammer Vanguard: S-sorry… ugh… That’s my first gunshot, d-doctor… Y/N: Oh, don’t worry. Mine as well :) Electrohammer Vanguard: … Y/N: Now, can I get my hydrogen peroxide back? I hope you left some for the wound…

Mondstadt was pretty dull and boring. There weren’t nearly as many traumatic injuries as in the other nations, and the diseases weren’t even half as lethal as malaria, cholera and typhus you faced in Sumeru and Natlan. That moment of peace allowed you to reflect on your life and experiences, as well as finally enjoy your hard earned fortune. 

Y/N: Take two of those throughout the week. If the symptoms don’t let up, come back and I’ll give you stronger ones. Kaeya: Thank you, doctor. May I ask something? Y/N: Sure. Kaeya: How did you become a doctor in the first place? Was it the salary, or perhaps a moral reason? Y/N: Hm. Duty, I think. I do what needs to be done. I didn’t have much time to reflect on it before. There’s always something to do. But even if I complete what is necessary, I still think back to what I did. Long days of waiting usually follow. It will come out if the treatment works, or if the surgery was a success. And just then, when the tension and joy leave my body - just then I realize what are the odds. 1: 400 000. It’s laughable. But for everyone their life is everything they have, so perhaps trying makes sense. 

And so you ended up in Liyue, the last nation on your list. It wouldn’t be your final destination if not for her. In Hu Tao you found a soulmate, someone who shared your sense of humor, someone who understood you. 

Painfully aware of how limited your time among the living is, you and her make the most out of it. 

Thanks for reading!

[whysojiminimnida]

WELL I SEE IT'S TIME TO TALK TATTOOS AGAIN

Holy cats, hoes mad:

I just adore Black&White KM, don't you? Honestly, never yells at me no matter how often I steal their pics, they give out freebies at concerts, they're respectful -- if you're gonna make a living off photographing famous people, do it like they do. Honestly. So they're in Qatar doing their whole job and hoes losing their shit all over the internet, apparently, all because a certain JM is darker. STILL.

This is not a brand new development.

Y'ALL HE DID THIS MONTHS AGO WHY ARE WE JUST NOW FREAKING OUT ABOUT IT?

This is at LAST YEAR'S GRAMMYS Y'ALL:

And completely unedited, unretouched, the JM was darker enough then that I did a whole post about it.

I MEAN DAMN have we not gone over this, like, several times? (In case you're new to this house elf situation we have here, yes. YES WE HAVE.) We have talked about Jungkook's tattoos at GREAT LENGTH. Well, I have, as far back as a while ago, most recently along about here but also here and here and here and several other places. There is zero tag organization in this house, I don't know what else to tell you.

Anywho Jungkook's tats do not, as nearly as I can tell, mean this:

Because, like the nice graphic above says that I just edited, THIS IS FAN-MADE BULLSHIT. I dunno who made it but I suspect the addition of the J upset some folk enough to need to make JeiKei's motivation anything OTHER than Jimin. Because, as we know, he started out with his ink like this:

Yes, that is a pic someone ripped off. I don't like using it. But it's what we have, and it's years later, and it's been out there for a long time, don't shoot. But I have expounded more than once on why it makes NO SENSE to GO BACK LATER to add one letter to a near-complete hand piece. It doesn't. And that A is not, never has been, a V. In Korea you can go literally anywhere and see Samsung logos, Shilla hotel logos, and of course Jimin's dad's cafe' all using that stylized A with no crossbar.

And I think it's pretty clear what JK thinks the JM means. It means Jimin. Ji Min. JM. DUH. And just like his "rather be dead than cool / make hay while the sun shines" crossword ON HIS ARM, he has a crossword on his hand. A very obvious crossword. Who he loves is written for all of us to see: ARMY, and JM. And lest I forget about that crown:

It's THE SAME CROWN. Wanna go one better but likely utter fanfiction, you could even go heart-arrow-crown like so: 💜 > 👑... ... and make that story work. It actually makes more sense than one J for four people and four letters for three. But we're not here for that. Occam's Razor tells us that the simplest explanation is usually the correct one, and the simplest explanation is the one that's got bitches tearing their hair out. Because THEY KNOW. They KNOW that JM means Jimin, and they HATE IT. (And so what, to quote JeiKei directly. We're gonna talk about fan hate today, too, just... not in this post).

MEANWHILE JUNGKOOK is always showing us his hand, too, have you noticed? Ever since he got the tattoos, but I think more in the last year. It's gotten really pronounced since the PTD dates.

Jeon Jungkook does what Jeon Jungkook wants, and what he wants is for us to pick up what he's been throwing down since, oh, FOREVER but even more recently. Like, it's NOTICEABLE, the way he gets that tattoo in frame at every opportunity. I'll run out of image space before he runs out of ways to show us his touched-up hand.

Yeah. I think the fanmade bullshit has been exposed for what it is. Some of us have known it all along, but even if you're baby Army and you accidentally got stuck watching a lot of comic sans rainbow font youtube garbage (or got up on the wrong side of stan twt), there's no shame in that. I ain't even mad. I'm just happy you're here. Jeon-Park house elves, how we doin'?

[smilepilled]

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hi. important / significant post for this blog today, very wordy but also very heartfelt. mainly targeted for the 400 milestone + things ive been wanting to say. hopefully the wording isn't too wonky? ❤️‍🩹

thanks if you stop by. might edit this later to make it "less fancy", if it ends up bothering me — dividers and decoration are mainly for organizing it and making it feel like the blog's thing. either way...

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hi, smilepilled/"bug" here (please just call me marcyie); this post will be about things id like to communicate directly to whoever sees it, and something regarding the blog (especially considering the 400 follower milestone). its mainly due to: (1) not wanting people to see me as some cool huge figure and instead just see me as a silly user having fun in my zone, AKA wanting to me treated like just any other random blog; and (2) communicating about intentions regarding people & situations.

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to start off: im not particularly joyous or happy with having ~400 followers or otherwise being "popular"/"known", because im straight up just some old (soon-to-be-legal) teenager who looks at pretty stuff on tumblr autistically. hence why im not planning on commemorating — however, please do know youre all very dear to me! i am very thankful for all the people i've met here ♡ i am a moot-focused account, i follow anyone that follows me, and you're all very much oomphed up in case you followed me.

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i would prefer to avoid any parasocial images from my person, or anything similar like that, so please just keep in mind: im just some random person online! im friendly and all, but please know im not and i dont want to be some "cool tumblr user", im a stranger online that is friendly but most people dont know much about; im just marcyie, the friendly tumblr neighborhood bugthing, treat me as such. i am keen on having understanding and nice interactions with people, but i am not some influencer or whatever. ^_^;

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ADDITIONALLY, a reminder that i personally will always be glad to solve any troubles thru personal "1-on-1" conversation over fights. if u gotta, send me a message and i'll get to it with u! seroously. even if ur fresh from some tense situation with me involved. if u demonstrate willingness to make peace im gonna be just as hearty. i heavily dislike being seen as some unstoppable force or hazard or whatever else — or worse, an opp. :'D i actively go out of my way to NOT be an opp to people, and even if i make mistakes, the intention is very much there, severely so. i really think often about making amends with people who i've had problems with, but since i am unaware of how to do that in a "socially acceptable way", i end up not doing it out of fear of making anything worse. its quite annoying for me, paradoxical as well.

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while i do have very complicated feelings towards a few people who've been in a headache of a situation (indefinite times, and indefinite amounts of people) with me being involved, id like to affirm that the greatest one is that of wanting to just make peace with whatever and whoever i've affected. im aware i say a lot of dumb things in the dumbest ways, and usually its interpreted in the worst possible way — something im painfully aware of, because i am not a english speaker mainly and i have deep problems with communicating what i feel/think with words. i mess up, i jumble up wording, and thats ultimately okay — if i make mistakes, its usually trying to do something good (or something bad towards someone bad, like a racist person, or something similar. which isnt great either!). im glad to be asked apologies of whenever, because most of the time i just end up not realizing that what i say was innapropriate or hurtful, hence creating a lot of the conflicts existing between me & others.

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i can apologize roght now, naturally in a shallower "blanket" way, for things ive said. because i am sorry: and i hope i can be forgiven, but most of all i really just want people to realize that my mistakes are learning experiences, and not things im proud of. im working on a lot, and while im aware some people will just not have the wellbeing or otherwise patience to deal with my erratic behavior, i do ask to be humanized as i often do with others in my head — i am constantly defending people in my head, and while i shouldnt do that for some, i still am hellbent on trying to be humane to others.

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either way, that's all. having 400 followers was very sudden, and as much as i'm thankful, i humbly ask to be treated normally — please do not view me as some cool tumblr blog, big wowzer, a fan-having awesomest, and moreso a seventeen year old autism unit in their corner of the internet where they hype stuff (and people) up. genuinely just a silly blog for me, im not focused on follower counts or influencing or anything — very much the contrary, this is my corner of the internet, for me, not for others. and im glad to meet a lot of people, but i really wont hesitate to archive this and start a new blog entirely for my sake (and others').

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have a lovely day. please remember to eat and drink water, and take breaks! my activity has grown a little lower, and i plan to continue focusing mainly on my real life situations over online stuff. please have a moment to be kind to yourselves, and remember to keep love in your hearts! 💜🩷🤍💛🧡❤️

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TL;DR — please dont "be my fan", be my moot. treat me as some random friendly teenager acquaintance, and not a figure online. also, please remember i make mistakes while aiming to be good & do good; i like people and circles with them, and communicating in general isnt my forté, but i still try my best to be nice and do things properly. i'm more than glad to solve anything with people that needs solving, but since i can often make things worse by caring too much or trying too hard, i'll just leave this note here. thank you for four hundred moots, but please, keep me as a moot and not as a "woawza tumblr user", Please. ❤️‍🩹

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[seizethedre]

(In the Land of Gods and Monsters)

Chapter Eight: Like a Groupie Incognito

The natural progression of information is questions yield answers. in the case of Lucifer finally getting to the bottom of Alastor's antics, all he gets are even more questions.

Much has been said about the devil throughout his time as supreme ruler of Hell. In the beginning, he was fearsome and cruel beyond compare; a demon of pitch black, inky darkness and terror incarnate. Then, there were those who called him treacherous and cunning, a snake lying in the tall, tall grass waiting to strike against the unsuspecting. Many considered him to be a tragic figure, a cautionary tale. The predecessor of one Icarus, fallen beloved son of the great inventor Daedalus, brought down by his own hubris. The blueprint from which all evil and temptation gave rise and poisoned humanity. A snuffer of light despite himself being once known as The Lightbringer. 

These days, the devil was very much a mystery to all save a select few. Still powerful, still fearsome, but strangely absent.

To be honest, Lucifer felt no pressure to create a spectacle to remind all of Hell just who he was, not when there were much more productive things he could be doing with his time. Besides, although he was always aware of how his subjects considered him, he had given up caring about his image a long time ago. What was there to prove? Who was there to prove himself to? Heaven had made it clear a long time ago what they thought about him. So had Lilith, to be quite frank. And although some wounds still festered, he lived, generally, unbothered by the opinions of others.

The only opinion he did care for was Charlie’s, and despite the time he’d lost and the mistakes he’d made with her, he knew that deep down there was next to nothing that would ever get her to cast him away from her good graces. She was too kind, too forgiving to give up on him.

Which was exactly why he needed to keep her safe, regardless of where the threats were coming from. And right now, the most immediate threat to her well-being seemed to be coming from in-house, and Lucifer was determined to put an end to it before it escalated into really dangerous territory. 

Dinner had ended a few hours ago, and as the clock ticked its way on over towards midnight, Lucifer knew that now would probably be the best time to make a move if he was really wanting to get some answers tonight. 

A plan had been brewing in the angel’s mind all night, ever since he had made up his mind to confront Alastor about the things he’d felt that day outside of the bakery. Holy power was hard to come by in a place like Hell, especially in as concentrated a dose as the one that the demon’s staff had. 

There were some demons, like Carmilla Carmine, who had access to angelic weapons, which could do some serious damage in the right hands, but even an Exorcist’s blade was child’s play when compared to the power of someone much higher up in the Heavenly ranks. Take him, for example: angelic steel would be harmless against him, even in the odd chance that someone could manage to get a good hit in. Seraphim’s were as close to indestructible as a being could get. 

But that energy that Lucifer had felt from Alastor definitely came from something much stronger than your average Exorcist, and that thought alone was enough to set the angel’s nerves on edge. Rightfully so, too, especially when something capable of so much destruction was placed in the hands of someone as unreliable as the Radio Demon, who’d been acting more suspicious than usual as of late.

Lucifer’s attempts to retreat to his rooms right after plates had been stacked and the crew had started to file out were thwarted when he was all but cornered by his daughter the second the others were out of ear shot. Once she got started, he could only hope that there would someday be an end to Charlie’s infinite stream of questions about how his first art therapy session had gone, as well as her promises to pop in and participate someday soon. He always had time for Charlie, nothing but endless love and patience for that dazzling girl of his, but today he felt that patience wearing just a bit thin as anticipation gnawed on his better judgment. He was anxious to get things sorted, to rid himself of the nagging feeling in the back of his mind, to unravel the tension that had begun to knot itself in the pit of his stomach. 

When he finally did manage to satiate the barrage of whos, whats, wheres, whens, and hows, Lucifer only waited long enough for her to round the corner with Vaggie before snapping open a portal upstairs. If he was going to deal with this tonight, he had to do it soon and do it carefully.

Usually, the act of dealing with demons was pretty cut and dry: flash his scary red eyes, bust out the big wings if the occasion called for it, and maybe spit a bit of fire to really set the intimidation factor to max. But this was Alastor and whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was not your average demon.

Hell, Lucifer was almost certain that he hadn’t been your average man when he was alive either.

He was smart. That much was obvious, scarily so, even. There was so much going on beneath his exterior and it was unnerving for the King of Hell to get such a difficult read on someone. His status as seraphim had endowed him with a certain affinity for reading souls, and it was about as close as one could get to literally and metaphysically reading another person as possible. 

In Heaven, this power had been used by the First Orders to delegate tasks according to the strengths and weaknesses of each individual angel in their charge. Down here in Hell, it meant that Lucifer always knew who and what he was dealing with. 

Most souls were harmless enough, just giant stains on white carpets. However, there was the occasional soul every few millennia that left him stumped. Instead of stains on carpets they were these massive voids or tangles of thorns. It was as though their very essence had a built-in security system, an arsenal, and in order for Lucifer to catch a real glimpse of what was on the other side, he had to take more invasive measures, which essentially meant he had to get his hands on them and literally pull the tethers of their being apart, slowly unwinding until he could see the whole picture.

It was a messy practice, and unsavory at best. Lucifer tended to avoid doing it at all costs if only for the simple reason that it felt wrong and dirty . Souls were such delicate little things, especially mortal ones. To become uncoiled completely was dangerous and it always resulted in some things becoming irreparably damaged. Nothing ever quite settled back in the way it used to be, the way it was supposed to be. The best alternative to performing a spiritual lobotomy was to keep a close eye on them and hope their more nefarious tendencies didn’t rear their ugly heads.

Yeah, he didn’t come across them very often, but they gave him the heebie-jeebies every single time. 

Alastor was no exception.

The layers to the man were astounding, and clearly put up with the intention of keeping others out. To try and venture into the workings of Alastor’s mind was like signing your life away to the most demented corn maze in the entire history of the universe, and even the angel could admit that he wasn’t keen on trying to wander through and decipher the signs without so much as a map and some rope.

To attempt to understand the inner workings of the demon’s mind would be like Lucifer trying to regain his post in Heaven: impossible and maybe a little insane to even consider. However, he did know the guy well enough to understand when something was off.

The demon had been oddly quiet during their meal, and while it was true that he couldn’t be considered a particularly chatty fellow to begin with, he was always quick with a witty remark or a well-aimed insult when the occasion called for it, and equipped himself well with a silver tongue that could give the Father of Temptation a run for his money. 

The fact of the matter was that Alastor had hardly even acknowledged a single soul the entire meal, red flags waving high and alarm bells definitely ringing when he didn’t so much as twitch an ear the entirety of Niffty’s impromptu roach puppet parade at dessert. This could only mean that the guy was clearly and uncharacteristically distracted. That conclusion, of course, did nothing to settle neither Lucifer’s nerves nor his suspicions. 

Determined and spurred completely into action now, Lucifer slipped from his rooms without so much as a whisper of noise. 

Alstor’s quarters were clear across the hotel from Lucifer’s, separated by a long length of hallway. Under normal circumstances, the king was grateful for the distance as it meant the odds of running into the demon before he was good and ready were slim, or he could even avoid him entirely if he wanted to, but tonight the walk towards his gloomy doorway was long and every step filled him with more apprehension.

Logically, he knew his nerves were unjustified; Alastor was just a mortal soul underneath the static and the theatrics. And yet, he couldn't stop the prickling sensation that crept its way from the base of his skull and down his arms, nor could he even begin to explain the tightening in his chest as he neared the dark alcove that signaled he was getting closer and closer to the belly of the beast. This little slice of the hotel was dark, the lights of the hallway seeming to have burnt out save for a few odd flickers. It must have been a purposeful design choice seeing as all of the lights in the building ran on sorcery, so the demon was clearly going for something a bit more dramatic and morose. 

He paused in front of the doorway, oddly unsure of what to do next. Knocking seemed like the most logical answer, but too civil for Lucifer’s intentions. He supposed he had every right to just barge right in and demand answers, proverbial guns blazing and all that, but he also didn’t want to interrupt the demon’s nighttime routine. Did he even have a nighttime routine? Had he truly never considered Alastor outside the contexts of gloating rivalry and radio static? Oh father, what if he was already sleeping and Lucifer just looked like a creep who liked to spy on poor, innocent Radio Demons for fun?

Nope, definitely not sleeping. Think with your head, Lucifer . 

A quick look downwards revealed a soft yellow glow of light flickering under the door. Broadening his hearing, he could make out the sound of music that always seemed to accompany the demon in his quieter moments. If he strained just a little bit more, he could make out the barely audible footfalls of someone walking around on the other side of the door.

Alright then, so he is awake, there’s that debate settled. Which leads him back to square one: how to get in without making this monumentally worse for himself than it inevitably will be. Quick and to the point seemed like the most ideal option here, as well as the least likely to result in property damage, so he steeled his nerves, squared his shoulders, and took a deep breath. He brought a hand up to hover a few inches from the door with the full intention of giving it a few sturdy knocks when it swung open all on its own. 

Huh, he was pretty sure that he hadn’t been the cause of that.

Nonetheless, he was immediately greeted with a wall of warmth and light. Giving the room a good visual sweep, he didn’t immediately see a seething monster twelve feet tall and glowing green, so he could only hope he was being welcomed in. He stepped in tentatively, wings ready to unfurl and carry him away from harm at a moment’s notice. 

He had never been in Alastor’s room, never even cared to imagine what it would look like, but if he had to guess, it definitely wouldn’t be this .

The walls were red, a few shades deeper than the walls of the hotel, and decorated with a wide array of animal skeletons. Okay, morbid, but not surprising, I suppose. To the left of the door was a single hook from which a familiar coat hung, long, pin-striped and seemingly freshly pressed. On the floor beneath them were a pair of shoes, laces untied and tucked up neatly against the wall. The sight of Alastor’s clothes separated from his being made the angel nervous, his heartbeat quickening in his chest as he braced himself for something unfamiliar.

He ventured further into the room, but there was still no sign of the deer. He noticed, however, that the source of the light and warmth was a crackling fire burning in a small fireplace. The walls on either side were made up of two large bookcases, one filled with books of all shapes and sizes, even a few different languages, while the other boasted an impressive collection of vinyl records. He realized with mild surprise that the music he was hearing came from a small turntable that sat on a low table in front of the fireplace and in between two large and admittedly comfy looking armchairs.

He glanced around the room again, wary at the sensation of being watched himself as he stepped away from the safety of the wall and the light.

 In another corner of the room, he could make out a looming wrought-iron staircase that spiraled up into another room. Lucifer assumed it was the sinner’s radio tower. He was going to take another step in that direction to prove his theory when a light suddenly turned on, revealing a new hallway. The feathers at his back bristled. He followed it.

About halfway across, the light blinked out, but in its place rose a softer, paler light. No, not a light, a glow. The further he walked, the stronger it got and the more his confusion grew. The air around him grew humid, damp almost, and it smelled like earth if not something a little muggier. Perhaps this is where Niffty’s bug problem had been originating from, too, because he could hear a lot of them chirping away like a tiny chorus. 

The light stopped at the end of the hall in a solid-ish glowing wall. Like a doorway, almost, except when Lucifer put a hand to it to push it aside, he fell right through, nearly tumbling past the threshold in surprise. When he looked up, he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

Laid out before him was a massive recreation of one of earth’s swamplands. A pocket dimension no doubt, he concluded. The blue glow he had seen was a result of the imitation moonlight that cast the entire room in a silvery sheen. Large trees reached up to the sky, their branches and leaves intertwining, heavy drapes of moss strung across them like tattered old curtains. The bugs sang louder now, the noise bordering on a soothing humming noise as lightning bugs blipped in and out of existence. Although he couldn’t see it, Lucifer could hear running water somewhere nearby, and curiously he wondered just how deep the pocket dimension went. 

The king was no stranger to pocket dimensions. Where do you think he stashed his wings when he wasn’t using them, after all. But to create one was tricky and required a lot of concentration and power. To stray from one’s desired outcome puts the very fabric of space at risk, endangering dimensions and the stability of their current universe. To create one so large and seemingly so stable was, admittedly, impressive. Yeah, Lucifer was impressed and he wasn’t too proud to say so either.

Who the fuck was this guy?

Or, more importantly at the moment: where the fuck was this guy? Yeah, Lucifer had more than a few questions for him now.

He sucked in a breath, fully intending to use it to call out for Alastor when a blur of movement in his peripheral caught his attention. He pivoted, coming face to face with the Radio Demon

“Uh, hi,” came his intelligent response.

Alastor regarded him coldly, probably colder than Lucifer had ever seen him before. Usually when they interacted there was life to it. Anger, irritation, heat . The look he was giving the angel now brought the temperature of the entire room down. In their little swamp, the crickets cut themselves off and the lightning bugs extinguished themselves. Even the blue glow of faux moonlight seemed to shrink away, as though a cloud had passed over it.

Lucifer gulped, suddenly getting the sense that he had seen too much, had crossed a line that he shouldn’t have.

“Alastor?” He tried. The sinner’s eyes narrowed dangerously in his direction.

“Your Majesty.”

“You know why I’m here.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement, and the moment the words left his mouth, Lucifer knew that Alastor knew it to be true, too. 

“Hm, not exactly,” he mused, finally setting his gaze elsewhere. Lucifer visibly relaxed, relieved. But they weren’t out of the woods yet. “But I do have an idea. You are quite–- persistent- –after all. The word ‘no’ means nothing to you, does it?”

And Lucifer realized just how right he had been. He wasn’t just stuck in the middle of the damn woods, he was being fucking hunted for sport. But the King of Hell was far from helpless, and definitely not one to be chased down like cowering prey. Lucifer got angry.

“I’ll accept your refusals when, and only when, I know they won’t bring any harm to my daughter or this hotel.” The angel glared up at the taller demon, looking him squarely in the eye as he continued. “Let’s get one thing clear here, Alastor. You can taunt me and shit-talk me all you want, but I draw the line at Charlie’s safety and well-being. The only reason why you’re still here is because she wants you to be, but if you ever get so much as the thought of wreaking any kind of havoc, if you move so much as one hair on her head–- you’re dead . And I’ll make sure you stay dead this time, got it?”

Smoke curled between the two men as they faced-off, stony faced and seething. Defeat was not a term either one of them was familiar with, considering that pride is what defined them both at their core. The heat between them intensified, literally, as Lucifer’s frame shook with fury and static rolled over the two in waves. Their staring contest could have lasted an eternity, and Lucifer would have been just fine with that because at least it would mean that the cocky bastard in front of him would be accounted for at all times, but he didn’t come here tonight to make threats. He allowed it to go on a few moments longer before Lucifer took a deep breath, blinking hard as he forced his appearance back into its typical fashion.

“Where is it then?” he asked curtly. 

Alastor was slow to relent, wise enough to understand where his cards fell and not at all happy about it, but conjured up his microphone in a wisp of green fire. He passed it to the angel with no further exchange, just the flat and steady sound of static.

Holding it in both hands, Lucifer shivered as energy jolted from his palms all the way to the crown of his head and down to the hooves of his feet. He shuddered as his own grace combated the foreign power, wincing at the stinging sensation that pulsed  from where he made contact with the staff.

He frowned, closing his eyes and concentrating on feeling past the physical effects of the energy, reaching out with his own to meet it, identify it. The deeper he pushed, the more the energy seemed to push back, as though warding him off, wanting to repel him. Which was odd, considering that most angelic power, even those of higher ranking angels, should be able to fend off a seraphim, fallen or otherwise.

The mental tug of war he was playing was finally giving way to a breakthrough, and if he pushed just a little further he should be able to catch a glimpse of the essence…

Lucifer dropped the microphone with a gasp.

He stared after it as it rolled away a few feet. It glowed white-hot and steamed in the aftermath of Lucifer’s assault.

“Your Majesty?”

Something akin to dread, but so much heavier began to settle over him. It bittered his tongue and curdled his stomach.

“Your Majesty!”

The world was far away and all he could feel was the burning in his palms, in his chest, in his eyes

“Lucifer!” Somehow the word rang through the padded haze he was losing himself in. The devil looked up, eyes blank, gaze glazed over and far away, searching for something that wasn’t there.

Alastor had his hands on his shoulders. They felt cold against the burning under his skin and he wanted to squirm away. Instead, he spoke the only words that kept ringing around his head.

“Where did you get it?”

The frown line between Alastor’s eyes deepened as he looked over the little king with concern and uncertainty, looking back and forth between his eyes for any sign of his usual character.

“It’s not mine,” he said, finally. He let go of the angel’s shoulders, slowly, arms held up cautiously, as though ready to catch him if he so much as swayed. Lucifer remained upright and the demon took a small step backwards. He cleared his throat. “It’s not mine.”

“I know,” Lucifer whispered.

“You know?” Alastor asked, skeptical, quizzical, relieved.

“It’s not you. It couldn’t be. It doesn’t feel like you . Where did you get it? ”

“Extermination Day. Before you arrived, I was fighting with Adam. It was going well. I was doing well, but he got the better of me. He blasted me with something, nearly split me in half. He probably would have finished me off, too, if not for my staff. It took the brunt of the impact and broke in the process. I managed to escape a few minutes before you arrived.”

“Adam hurt you,” Lucifer murmured, tasting the words on his lips, digesting them, blinking up at him with more clarity. “Adam hurt you?” There was something frantic creeping into his tone now. “Adam, he–you said he nearly split you in half? He hit you with something, he broke your staff, he–he–” Halfway to hysteria, he sank to his knees, mind reeling from the information being processed, the revelations and the implications of it all.

Alastor stood in front of him, shifting uneasily, unsure of what to do. His instincts kicked in and the soothing sound of piano keys melted away at the tension in the atmosphere.

“I am relatively unharmed, if that makes any difference,” he offered into the silence. The king sniffed from where he sat with his head between his knees.

“Of course it matters.” He looked up, eyes glistening as they burned into Alastor. “You have no idea what you’ve done, Alastor, do you?”

“I let the hotel fall to holy arms. I’m aware of my failure, Your Majesty. I don’t need it spelled out for me.”

“You saved the hotel. You saved Husk and Angel, you saved Charlie , you saved me .”

“I’m afraid I’m not following.” Alastor wasn’t one to lack confidence. Hell, even after losing to Adam he had managed one last quick snark before phasing out. But this, now, in front of the King of Hell, hearing him praises , Alastor felt small, felt mocked despite the sincerity on the angel’s face. His ears flattened against his head, his smile twisting into something sour. Lucifer stood back up, wiping his cheeks before gesturing to the forgotten microphone.

“Whatever Adam hit you with, it wasn’t his power. Not exactly anyway. And I don’t think you were its intended target. Angels, we–we have this ability to identify one another by our power, our grace. It’s like a signature almost, or an aura. It’s hard to explain, but no two are alike.” Lucifer took a shuddering breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing.

“When I felt it the first time, that day we went to the bakery, I knew it couldn't have been you. I would’ve felt it before then. And just now, when I reached out to it with my grace, it fought back, I don’t know, it shouldn’t have been able to do that, not with me, not unless it came from someone much more powerful than Adam.” Alastor didn’t speak, waiting for the angel to continue.

“It wouldn’t let me see it. Not all of it at least.” He sighed, looking down at the singed and festering skin of his palms. “I don’t know who it came from, I just know that whoever gave it to Adam didn’t do so with good intentions.”

The two stayed in the silence for a few minutes, both too preoccupied with their own thoughts and the implications of this grand revelation to quip at the other. Lucifer felt the events of the day catch up to him. Between the anxiety of waiting for his first art therapy session, to worrying about Alastor and the shady shit he was tangled up in, all the fighting, the questions yet to be answered. And now this, a message from Heaven, loud and clear: something has shifted.

Lucifer dug his claws into the damp earth beneath him, feeling its coolness sooth his tender skin. They were safe, for now at least. It was clear that this wasn’t going to be resolved tonight, he just needed to remain extra vigilant, take every precaution to ensure his loved ones remained safe. 

His gaze flickered to Alastor. The demon was still standing in front of him, shoeless and coatless, his red hair blowing from the light wind. His smile was small, smaller than Lucifer had ever seen it and it was clear that the sinner was sitting in the gravity of their shared situation. His ears weren’t in their usual perky state, though not flattened either, seemingly in a wilted state, the only indication of his own exhaustion. His arms were crossed over his chest, hands clenched into a tight fist. He didn’t look in Lucifer’s direction.

The angel blinked, looking from the deer’s hands to his own. And then it clicked.

“Alastor, have you been living with the residual energy this entire time?”

“Obviously,” he replied sharply, shifting away from the angel as his eyes narrowed and ears flattened in suspicion.

“That’s why you only use it in public,” he mumbled to himself. Then, louder, “You’re hurt, aren’t you?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” The deer shifted in place, ears still firmly hugged to his skull. 

“Let me see,” the king demanded, already reaching out to touch him. Alastor pulled back, quick as a snake and bared his teeth.

“Don’t touch me!” He snarled, curling away from the angel, the shadows at his feet intensifying as though ready to whisk him away. “I said I’m fine, didn’t I?” He snapped.

“Alastor,” Lucifer tried, speaking lowly and slowly, palms up and on display. “I’m not going to hurt you. You see this,” he gestured at his own hands, raw and blistered where they should have been healed up by now. “This is what happens when you’re exposed to high levels of angelic power, especially of that caliber. Alastor, your body wasn’t made to handle it. Hell, it’s a miracle you’re still alive. That’s why you haven’t been using your microphone here at the hotel, isn’t it? Because it hurts?” The demon didn’t respond, but his smile dropped a fraction.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he hissed. He stood up straighter after that, sending clear signals that he was done with the conversation as he turned back towards the glowing doorway that led out of the pocket dimension and back to the hallway. Lucifer let out an exasperated breath. He scrambled up after him.

Oh this guy…  

“Let me help you, Alastor, please.” Lucifer wracked his brain, trying to think of a way to get the sinner into accepting his help without sacrificing his dignity.

“Listen, you helped Charlie, right? You defended the hotel just long enough for heaven to break their end of the treaty. That means I owe you, right?” Hello, that got his attention, didn’t it. The sinner paused just shy of the doorway, without uttering a word he was letting Lucifer know he was listening to what he had to say.

“Let me take a look at it at least, let me see how bad it is. You’re smart enough to know that if it hasn’t healed on its own by now, then it’s not ever going to heal.” There, a logical argument, one that the demon would surely appreciate. Lucifer stared at the retreating figure as he stood stiff as marble.

Alastor remained infuriatingly silent, of course he chose now to have nothing to say. But he was considering it, that much Lucifer was certain of. Although he couldn’t see the expression on his face, he could see the flexing tension of his shoulders, the twitching of his ears, and how he seemed to be looking down at his own hands. The man was thinking, long and hard.

When he finally did turn back around, his face was clear of any emotion, eyes wary as he cradled his fists close to his chest.

“You will look and only look,” he warned. Lucifer nodded obediently to the man’s terms. “With your eyes only , Lucifer.”

“Mhm, yeah, got it, scout’s honor. Eyes only. No touching, guaranteed.” Alastor still didn’t seem too convinced, but stepped closer to the angel nonetheless.

“Very well,” he spoke, reaching out a tentative hand. “You may proceed.”

“Mind if we do it somewhere else?” Lucifer asked, smiling up absently at the taller demon.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah, can we do this in front of the fireplace?” He winced as feedback split the air. Alastor’s eyes darkened briefly as his smile tightened.

“I mean, not that I don’t love what you’ve got going on in here with the trees and the bugs and all, but I think we’d both be a little comfier if we didn’t do this here, you know?” Lucifer didn’t think he was being unreasonable in saying this. Sure it was a pretty little pocket dimension swampy thing, but it was kinda dark and if Lucifer was going to try and help, he had to know exactly what he was working with.

“So, what d’ya say, Al?”

“My name is Alastor ,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

“I thought your friends got to call you Al though?” Heavens, was the King of Hell truly pouting like an infant just now? “Charlie calls you Al all the time.”

“ Charlie can’t be convinced otherwise. Believe me, I’ve tried. Please, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that one civil conversation with another man hardly constitutes grounds for friendship.”

“But we bonded? Shared trauma and made important discoveries together. Surely there are friendships that have been founded on less.”

“You threatened to kill me less than an hour ago.” And yeah, okay, that look he was giving him was definitely not amused, but it was a little funny wasn’t it and why couldn’t Alastor just let the past remain in the past?

“In my defense, I threatened to kill you while I was under the impression that you were harboring the angelic equivalent of a nuclear bomb inside the walls of my daughter's hotel. You can hardly blame me for taking drastic measures.” Alastor hummed, unimpressed.

“Well then, are we going to get this over with? Some of us do have important things to do in the morning.” Alastor turned away from him again, walking towards the doorway. Lucifer’s eyes gleamed with the promise of mischief. He twirled his fingers and in an instant they were both in the front room, the one with the fireplace and cozy-looking chairs. The music had stopped playing a while ago and the record was spinning aimlessly on the turntable. Beside him, Alastor stumbled, a hand pressing to his stomach.

“Could you refrain from doing that without warning me first next time?”

“Who said anything about there being a next time,” Lucifer snorted before he caught a glimpse of the sinner’s pale, kinda green looking face. Oops. “My bad.”

“Indeed,”  Alastor grunted. He slowly lowered himself into one of the armchairs, hoofy feet scraping against the carpet. Taking a deep breath, he held out one of his closed fists towards the angel. Lucifer dropped all pretenses of amusement and moved to kneel in front of him.

Slowly, Alastor uncurled his fingers, revealing the red, angry skin of his hand. Lucifer’s eyes widened in surprise at the state of them. They looked far worse than his own, all blistered and chapped as if someone had been branding his palms with a hot iron on a daily basis. Despite how much he wanted to reach out and touch, he kept true to his word and looked at the demon’s hands only.

“They’ve been like this since the fight? Your other hand too?” He inquired, quietly, softly.

“Yes.”

“Can I try something? I promise I won’t touch it.”

“Very well.”

Lucifer rested his own hand in the space above Alastor’s, not touching, but close enough to feel its heat. He concentrated, closing his eyes as he channeled his grace, using it to reach out towards the wounds on the sinner’s palm. It took some effort, sifting through the pieces of Alastor bit by bit until he could pick up the offending traces of holy energy, but once he caught it, he followed the threads, pulling and separating them from the demon as carefully as he could. He couldn’t be sure how long it had taken him, but by the time he had finished healing the other hand, his own were trembling with fatigue.

“There,” he sighed out, sagging back against the frame of the chair. “There’s one problem dealt with.” Lucifer leaned his head back against the soft fabric, basking in the warmth of the fire. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from where it started to cling to his damp forehead. Above him, Alastor stared at his open palms, unmarred and whole.

“What exactly did you do?” He asked, a trace of something reverent in his tone.

“Pulled the angel stuff out of you,” Lucifer replied, opening a lazy eye to look up at him. “Once that was out of your system, your body was able to patch itself up just fine.”

“Yes, but how did you pull it out?”

“Remember what I told you about grace being able to recognize other grace? I used my own as a sort of magnet. Once I found what was left inside of you, I simply absorbed it into myself.” The angel shrugged, unbothered, but Alastor was shaking his head.

“But you were hurt by it too, won’t absorbing foreign grace affect you?” Lucifer waved him off.

“Eh, maybe a little bit. My body is definitely resistant to someone else’s grace, kind of like loading up a body with an incompatible blood type, but it’s resilient enough to know how to flush it out of my system. God really made sure to think out all the little kinks in his soldiers before creating us. Look, see?” He thrust his hands up towards the demon, waving them in front of his face. They were perfectly healed. “All better,” he murmured, promptly dropping them back down into his lap.

Alastor marveled at the feat. Lucifer truly was a powerful entity, formidable and practically untouchable. Still, he was not without weakness. He had seen it on his face earlier in the bayou, how fear had crossed his features, clouded the brightness of his eyes and stolen the smile from his lips. Down here he was supreme, but there were forces out there in the celestial realm that were just as powerful, just as capable of destroying him, as they had narrowly avoided proving during the last Exorcism.

And Alastor was privy to the information.

How fascinating .

He looked down at the King of Hell who seemed as though a breath away from never waking up again. Alastor supposed this would be about the time that he returned the favor. Summoning his tendrils, he lifted the king into the adjacent armchair before calling on another to drape a blanket over him. For a moment he considered removing the other’s shoes-–Alastor detested walking around his rooms with his shoes on–-but thought better of it. He’d done his due diligence and to provide more would only fuel the angel’s silly little notion that the pair of them were chummy now. How preposterous. 

Still, he replaced the needle on the record, quiet music filling the room as he disappeared up into the familiar space of his radio tower. 

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