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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

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Dirty Work 23

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: what up my slutty butties!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You help Leslie bring out the plates. You set one before Mr. Laufeyson as Leslie puts one down before an empty chair. You can hear your dad muttering at his puzzle. Your boss is unfazed as he smugly sits waiting.

"Offer him something to drink while I get your father," Leslie lowers her voice, turning her back to your guest, "I know you didn't have a mother around but have some common courtesy."

You flinch, injured by her unnecessary remark. Sometimes she says things that sting, just like your father. You suppose that's why they get along so well. She sidesteps you and enters the front room, announcing her presence gaily as she calls your father's name.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you face him sheepishly, "would you like something to drink?"

"I suppose you haven't any cabernet," he snorts. You clamp your lip tightly in humiliation. "I am driving so I suppose it wouldn't matter, you have water, yes? It will suffice."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you answer and spin away, fleeing to the kitchen behind the shield of the simple task.

You take a glass from the cupboard, checking to make sure it's clear and clean, and fill it from the filtered jug in the fridge. You return to the dining room as Leslie helps your father in. He bats her hand off his arm and grunts as he drops into an empty chair across from Mr. Laufeyson. You put the water in front of your boss and peek over at your dad.

"Dad, do you want something--"

"No," he barks as he snatches his fork, poking at the seasoned turnip, "what is this shit?" He sniffs, "smells like garbage."

You sit and balance at the edge of your chair, not paying any mind to the food before you.

"Charlies, don't be rude," Leslie claims a seat of her own, "Loki's mother was so kind to send this over to us."

"I don't know her," your father growls.

"Can't complain for free food, can we?" Leslie girds gently and sends a smile to Laufeyson, "it's been a tough day for him. The humidity really bothers him."

"Would you be quiet?" Your father snaps, "I can speak for myself and I'm just damn fi--"

Your father breaks out into another storm of coughs. He hits the table and braces it, his fork clattering as he struggles to catch his breath. Mr. Laufeyson sits placidly, picking up his knife and fork, and cutting into the pork loin.

"My, you do sound rather terrible," he says as he pokes a morsel of meat in the air on the tines.

"He'll be fine, he just needs to catch his breath," Leslie assures.

"Mm, have you thought of an air purifier? It might do this place some good?" Laufeyson suggests with a curl of his lip, biting into the pork.

"Mr. Fucking Fancy Pants," your dad slaps his own chest as he finds his voice, "what do you know? You ain't some doctor walking in here telling me how to breathe."

"I have several degrees so I could claim the title, I suppose," Laufeyson taunts, "I always thought it a bit pompous, however."

"Ah, go off and buy another set of tits," your father snarls.

"You are such a loving father, aren't you?" Laufeyson goads.

"Good enough to know yours never smacked you hard enough," your dad retorts.

Silence. You look at Leslie as she peers between the men, a frigid smile frozen on her face. You bat your lashes as you teeter and grip the table.

Your dad takes his fork again and scoops up a soft chunk of turnip. He puts it in his mouth, making a face as he tastes it then gags and spits it out. It flies across the table onto Laufeyson's plate. Your brows rise as Leslie's expression mirrors your shock.

"Tastes like garbage too. That mother of yours must be just as much a disappointment to your father as you," your dad chortles at his own insult, hacking into another fit.

Mr. Laufeyson sets his fork down. He sighs and slides his plate away. He stares down your father as he sets his back straight.

"As much as you are to your daughter, I'm sure."

"Mr. Laufeyson," you squeak.

"Get--" your father coughs and chokes, fighting to get to his feet, his stomach hitting the table and rattling the dishes, "the fuck--" cough -- "out of my house."

"Is that what you call this place?" Laufeyson remains seated, glancing around derisively.

Leslie gasps, "sir, now you are too much, we welcomed you in--"

"I wasn't aware your job included nursing his bruised ego," Laufeyson shoots in her direction, "don't remind me of etiquette. I brought you all more than the scraps you have in the back of that dingy fridge. Of course, you wouldn't have the taste or sense to know good food."

"I said GET OUT!" Your father hollers so hard he sways, his voice scratching at its peak.

"Dad," you stand up, "Mr. Laufeyson, please, you need to go--"

"Take your own advice," he stands and scoffs in your father's direction.

"Stop, please, he's my dad--"

"Oh yes, I've heard it before," Laufeyson sneers, "and I heard you beg him just the same before he--"

"No!" You exclaim, "no, leave. Now. Please--"

"You needn't convince me further," Mr. Laufeyson strides around the table, "Chuck," he stops next to your father as he puffs, grasping the chair for support, "try not to choke on your own vitriol."

He pats your dad arm, causing him to recoil and fall onto the chair. Leslie rushes over to him as you stand dumbfounded. You hoped the day wouldn't get worse and yet, you can't say you didn't expect it. Even so, it hits you like a car at full speed and knocks the wind out of you. You don't know what to do.

"Have a good night," Mr. Laufeyson says at the door, "however pleasant it could ever be in a rat-infested hole like this." He looks at you, "thank you for this lovely dinner."

He turns and struts out. You shake your head as adrenaline courses through you, burning around your lungs and hammering in your chest. You look over at your father as he continues to cough violently.

"Dad..." you try to go to him.

"Haven't you done enough?" Leslie snaps as she lashes you with a glare. You wince and stumble back.

"I didn't--"

"He's right about you, isn't he?" She snarls, "you're just an ungrateful brat."

"No--"

"Go!" Your father forces through his choking gasp, "you little bitch!"

Your lip trembles as the room spins. You twirl away without a second thought, horrified and humiliated. You run out into the hallway and barrel up the stairs, sobbing by the time you get to the top step. Mr. Laufeyson has ruined everything. Your job, your family, and your entire life.

You thought you had nothing before, how wrong you were.

✨

You cry yourself to sleep, just like many nights before. Your head swirls with rippled visions of angry eyes and shadowy figures. You drown in the thick unconscious, nearly suffocated with terror as you're paralysed against the virulent nightmares.

You wake only as a crash splinters your sleep. You sit up, heaving for air as you see a dark figure eerily similar to the one in your dreams. You blink until you can, the light of the hallway glowing in the limn your father's portly figure.

He drags out the next drawer from your dresser and dumps it over the pile mounded on the floor. He staggers as he drops the plywood and kicks it aside. He leans on the handle of his oxygen tank as you reach for your lamp.

"Dad? What are you--"

He struggles to reach for the bottle by his feet. He lifts it and wobbles as he untwists the cap. He overturns the bottle of bleach onto the heap of clothes, kicking them around as the stringent chemical spills out. You watch as he ruins the layers of new clothing and cry out as you bounce to the foot of the bed.

"What are you doing!?" You shriek.

"Whore's clothes," he tosses the bottle on top, "you... bring your pimp in here like the slut you are--"

"Dad," you whimper but have no words. He's not so far off after all. You look down at the clothes and the pale stains of the bleach patching across the fabric, "dad, I'm sorry. I tried-- I was only--"

"I don't care," he grits, "I'm done with you. You been..." he takes a deep breath, clasping his chest, "mooching off me for thirty years. You sucked the life outta me--" he gasps again, "look what you done to me," he tugs at the tube that trails down his chest, "this is your fault. You killed me just like you did your mother."

"No, no, no," you touch your cheeks as they burns and your tears fall free, "please, don't say that."

It's another nightmare. It has to be. You're still sleeping. This can't be real.

"Dad," you stand and reach for him, "don't be mad--"

He hits you. Not hard, he can't. He's too weak. You flinch and back away, cowering as you cradle your head. He looks around, his head bobbling and grabs the hardcover book from atop your dresser.

He nears you as you shrink down, stunned into helplessnness. He grips the book with both hands and swings it at you. The first strikes doesn't wake you. It's real.

He hits you, over and over, the sharp corner jabbing into your cheek and chin, then the side thumping across your shoulder and against your side. He keeps on until he can't.

He drops the book and coughs, bending over as he slips to one knee. You watch him, tears streaming into your hands as you babble like a child.

"Daddy," you murmur.

"You get out or I'll call... the goddamn... police," he braces the oxygen tank and forces himself up. "This isn't your home no more." He limps and drags the tank to the door, "it never was.”

✨

You don't know what to do. You can barely stop crying long enough to think. The heavy bags weigh down your steps as you wander mindlessly to the corner and stop, the reality of the moment crashing down like thunder.

You drop the duffle bag and sit on it, letting your work bag hit the pavement by your feet. The sun has barely come up as you sit in the dim hue of dawn. Where do you go?

You feel yourself sinking. Your lungs are reading to shrivel and your head is going to cave in. You're lost. You have no home, you have no father, you have nothing... well, you still have a job.

You cry a little longer, until you hear the first sign of life from across the street. You get up as a man comes of a house. He doesn't notice you as you hitch up your work bag and grab the duffle from the sidewalk. You just need somewhere for a night or two. Let dad cool off and you'll apologise. It will be okay.

You walk down to the main road and catch the first bus. You have no direction, no destination. You get off as you see the marquee of the Holiday Inn. You've never stayed in a hotel, hopefully they have room for you. It seems like no one does.

You shuffle inside, tired and worn out. There's a woman behind the front desk, sitting on a chair so you can only see the top of your head. You hobble over under the weigh of your bags and wait for her to notice you. When she doesn't, you tap the bell on the counter.

"Eh?" She stands up, almost tipping over, "sorry," she yawns, "didn't hear you come in."

"Mm," you hum and chew your lips, "that's okay. Erm..."

"Do you have a reservation? Bit early... or late, to be checking in."

"No, uh, I don't," you lower your eyes, "do you have anything available?"

"Sure we do," she answers chipperly. You look at her name tag; Mindy. "I got a few singles clean and ready."

"Okay, that's good," you answer, "how much?"

"Hundred and twenty for tonight. Credit on file or three hundred cash deposit."

"Oh," you try not show your surprise, "okay, I er, think I have enough but I don't have a credit card."

"Now worries, there's an ATM," she points across the lobby.

"Thank, can I leave my bags here for a second?"

"Sure, sweetie," she turns to the computer and clicks around.

You cross to the machine and dig out your debit card. You slide it into the slot and push the firm metal buttons. Your stomach plummets as you punch in the custom amount for withdrawal. You were saving that for the mortgage and Leslie. You hit Yes and the machine whirs, spitting out a stack of bills and a receipt.

You return to the counter and hand it over. Mindy asks for your name and phone number. You give her your info, growing more weary by the moment.

"Here are your keys," she hands over a tiny paper folio, "checkout is 11am tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"Wifi info is in there, along with information about breakfast. Coffee in the room and a kettle. Oh, and microwave."

You thank her one last time and collect your bags once more. You go to the elevator and check the folio for your room number. You hit floor six and wait for the box to rise. You step off, following the wall plaques to the matching door. It's yours, just for a little bit.

You swipe the card several times before it unlocks, struggling to make it register. You push your duffle inside with your feet and put your work bag beside it as the door shuts on its own. The room is small, the walls are pasted in faded wallpapers and the bed is made with sheets that remind you of another decade.

You put the keys on the table against the wall and drag yourself to the bed. You don't really have any time to nap, you just need to get off your feet for a little.

Your restlessness doesn't let you sit long. You wear some of your old clothes, of the few pieces you salvaged from the ruin. You check yourself in the mirror. You don't bother with the makeup. Mr. Laufeyson will be disappointed either way. Besides, you shouldn't care so much what he thinks. You're just his house manager after all. You're there to do a job.

If only believing it would make it true.

You find a route that goes towards his neighbourhood. It lets you off a few blocks away and you take your time. You almost don't have a choice as your body is achy from your father's attach, new bruises rising tenderly to the surface.

You're early despite the fractured night. As you pass the cafe, you slow and glance through the window. Just one more quiet moment before you face the inevitable.

You push inside and see the same woman as last time. You give the same order as you doubt she even recognises you. She hovers her finger over the touch screen of her till, "we have a special, a rose tea latte, if you're interested."

"Oh?" You scrunch up your lips, you've never been good at saying no. "Sure, I'll try that."

You got the change to pay and frown. You shouldn't be spending what's left on a tea. You should be smarter. Maybe if you were, you wouldn't be such a loser.

You sit and stare at the pink foam. You don't know if you can do this but what other choice do you have? You could just disappear but for how long? You'll run out of money. As hard as it was to get this job, you don't think a new one would be any easier when you have one reference. A reference who you don't expect a shining review from.

You sip carefully. It's delicious. You drop your forehead into your hand as hot tears brim your eyes. You fight to constrain them, nearly quaking with the effort. Your eyes are swollen enough as it is.

You continue to drink, keeping your head down, and finish before you resign yourself to fate. To face Mr. Laufeyson. You can do this, not because you're strong, but because you have to.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor

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genericpuff · 1 month

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I've been seeing you say/speculate Rachel Smythe has been cut loose from webtoon, could you elaborate what you mean by that?

It's only a tinfoil hat theory that people should take with MOUNTAINS of salt (seriously, I'm more likely to believe that Rachel really is just done with LO), but there's a general suspicion that LO wasn't meant to end here and that Webtoons decided to cut the cord. I've made a post about it before but some new stuff has surfaced since then.

1.) The announcement the series was ending was made quietly at NYCC and not shared to either Webtoons' socials or Rachel's socials.

The only way fans initially knew about the series ending was through a screencap from the Discord where someone else who had been attending NYCC passed on the info from a Q&A that LO would be entering its final arc.

For a good while the only other way to know the series was ending was through the Discord, a Cosmopolitan article, and my own post.

Though it sounds odd for a series to get cancelled halfway through its third season, it's not uncommon for Webtoons to suddenly axe series while they're on their midseason hiatuses, it's happened before. So there's a general suspicion that Rachel may have found out during NYCC that LO would only be given one more arc.

2.) The actual finale announcement was made in a text post on Instagram that suddenly announced it would be ending on May 11th, despite the fact that there was still lots to wrap up in the story.

What this implies is that Rachel was given one more arc, with no concrete end date... until Webtoons told her to wrap it up in a limited number of episodes, hence why despite us knowing it was in its final arc, the end date still felt too soon. This is also supported by the fact that her initial announcement was vaguely "early/mid 2024" - she couldn't give a more accurate end date because she didn't plan for the actual ending.

3.) Things that Rachel has said implies that she was either hoping for the final arc to go on longer, or that she didn't think LO was going to be ending now.

(that "nothing is set in stone" quote further supports the theory that she may have been hoping to get renewed in spite of the lukewarm ending announcement - that the only reason the announcement was so quiet was because WT hadn't fully committed to it yet and wanted to see how the series would do upon its return; now that they see it falling behind to other series, it might mean WT became more sure in their decision to cut it and gave her an actual deadline to wrap it up by.)

4.) Webtoons has stopped promoting Lore Olympus despite it ending.

Any promotional spots that it has gotten have been stuffed into the dead zone of the banner reels (seriously, anything past the 3rd spot is practically useless because it takes actual committed scrolling to get there vs. the first 1-3 banner spots which can be seen as soon as you open the app/site) and the banner art itself does not in any way advertise the series being in its final arc. These banners also only seem to be appearing for a day at most, compared to the days upwards of weeks they used to get.

Webtoons also hasn't been doing any sort of promoting on their socials for it. Considering The Mafia Nanny has been consistently beating out LO in the top rankings for weeks now, and that LO's rating and view count is still dropping, it appears that Webtoons has finally given up on shoving it down people's throats and put their focus elsewhere.

Again, this is all tinfoil hat speculation, so take it with massive doses of salt. Considering this is Webtoons, I wouldn't be surprised if they finally decided to put LO out of its misery, but this is also Rachel and I wouldn't blame her in the slightest if she finally wanted to be done with it after the past two years of people clowning on it. And I say that knowing I, myself, am a clown LOL

Either way, I feel like either outcome is plausible in its own ways, but whatever is the true reason, it doesn't change the fact that LO is ending and has 3 episodes left to wrap itself up. And whatever comes after will likely involve the launch of Inklore which was estimated for the spring.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #anon ask me anything #anon ama #ama #ask me anything

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not-fortune-cookie · 3 months

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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Upon the vast Silver Tree that concealed a Corrupted Beast within, a small Cookie dawned in Pearly White robes stood upon the roots. Their gaze softened as a hum of a song uttered solemnly as they put their forehead on the trunk, whispering a woe towards the shame they felt for the Cookies befallen under the Witch's cage.

They had witnessed the fall of the former heroes. The corruption that darkened the heart of the now-Beasts. They never foresaw the torment and destruction to be inflicted towards their fellow cookies.

Their dough soured as the time passed in memory. They never had seen this outcome to protect the peace from the Beasts that was hidden beneath the roots of the Tree. For their once friends had become strangers. Let alone foreseeing the transformations of these fallen heroes from their closest companion to be a... MONSTER.

At the sound of soft cracks near them, the Cookie perked up. "Elder Faerie Cookie..." they muttered, knowing his identity upon his quiet steps. "Fret not of my being... For I am grieving..."

"I would assume so, starlight," the Fairy King softly said, his arms placed behind his back as he approached the sorrowful Cookie. "Since eons of protecting this Silver Tree, you still mourn the imprisonment of these Beasts."

The Cookie winced at the reminder of the true colors of the ones they had longed to reunite. Their crystal eyes melted in shame, gripping their weapon tightly, and thoughts grew with agitation.

The betrayal. The broken promise. The heartbreak they suffered to see their closed Cookies locked away...

"Elder Faerie Cookie... They have been my allies." They said, tone keeping their solemn tune. "My companions. My... friends."

"Friends that turned their backs to all Cookiekind..." The Fairy King said, albeit harsh held the truth. "Come now, starlight. Why haven't you let go of the memories of these Beasts? You are to rule alongside me, to prevent them from harming anyone once more."

"Is it wrong for me to reminisce the past, dear friend?" They said as they break contact from the tree, staring at the roots that White Lily Cookie bound when the Beast almost broke free.

"Even with time, the bonds that I have with them were not easy to sever..." They clenched their hands with their lips quivering.

"But it's time for you to open your eyes, starlight," Elder Faerie Cookie said as he reached over to them and lifted their head to meet his gaze. "They are no longer what you paint them to be. For as long as our dough is crisp, we are to prevent them to cast discord."

He sighed, "We have a duty to uphold, [Y/N] Cookie. I need you to keep strong. To assist me to rule the Faerie Kingdom. Please, I cannot lose you, too."

[Y/N] Cookie's gaze softened, their thoughts lingering with the slumbering White Lily Cookie they and Elder Faerie Cookie protected. In an eternal sleep, hanging into the life energy she still has, the Ancient Hero had helped strengthen the Silver Tree when the Beast almost broke free within.

They had lost their precious friends, and now they're also losing the one close to them once more. Elder Faerie Cookie spoke the truth. The Kingdom needed them, they cannot lose their current people.

"You're right..." They muttered, looking towards the banquet. Most faeries singing praises, "I must focus on events of today."

Even with the hollow feeling in their chest, they couldn't help but ponder. A pit in their stomach gnawed with dread, making them glance towards the Silver Tree.

They dismissed it, looking towards Elder Faerie Cookie as they offered a small smile, they held his hands and squeezed them in reassurance. "I'll be here with you. You will not lose me."

'I cannot bring them down.' They thought as they glanced around with a smile and wave as they watched the festive faeries continue to sing praises.

However, no one noticed the crack into the seal and a peal of giggle escaping from the Silver Tree...

#Beast Yeast #Cookie Run: Kingdom x Reader #crk x reader #cookie run x reader #cookie reader #Elder Faerie Cookie #Elder Faerie Cookie x reader

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bwabys-scenarios · 5 months

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Safe and Sound

Pt 1

Yandere!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

pt 2

warnings: reader is kidnapped, she was drugged, Kurapika masturbates to the sound of reader sleeping in the next room

A/N: I’m not sure how long this series will because it’s purely for my own enjoyment, so… yeah. Also if you’d like to see sneak peeks or share your ideas for my series, come join the discord!!

if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

The sound of raindrops hitting the window was enough to wake (Name) from her nap. She stretched, her head and limbs feeling strangely heavy.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, her free hand patting the nightstand next to her bed for her phone… but it wasn’t there. (Name) immediately sighed, thinking she may have fallen asleep watching a video and forgot to put in on charge. It would be annoying having to charge it at work, considering the only outlet was usually taken up by her creepy coworker.

“Damn it…”

She finally opened her eyes, only to blink a few times, her foggy mind trying to make sense of the strange layout of her room. All of the furniture was the same, her books and plushies were the same, but they were in different spots. The walls were pink, like they’d always been, but she didn’t remember having a window…

“So you’re awake.”

The door to her room was open, a familiar head of blonde hair peeking in. “Kurapika..? What are you… doing in my house? I thought you were out of town for work…”

She rubbed her eyes again, taking a look around the room again and finally realizing something. “This… this isn’t my room. Where… where am I?”

He didn’t speak for a moment, looking away from her questioning gaze. The blonde looked… conflicted, almost guilty. “This… this is your new home. I…”

He cleared his throat, his face returning to its normal calm, and collected state. “I decorated this room to… be as close to your old one as possible. I even found those stuffed animals you’ve been…”

Kurapika went quiet when she stared at him, still trying to process what he was getting at. “Wait… Kurapika, I don’t… what are you saying? Why- no, how did I get here?”

The door creaked open, Kurapika stepping in. He was wearing his usual blue tabard with the golden embroidery, though his hair was tied back in a ponytail. She had noticed his hair getting longer, it was usually a sign that he wasn’t taking care of himself again and putting his mission before his health.

“… that isn’t important, (Name). What is important is that you’re here, and you’re safe.”

He stood in front of her, his soft brown eyes gazing down at her with a feeling she couldn’t quite place. (Name) blinked when he pushed a piece of hair out of her face before pulling his hand away. “I know this… will be difficult to adjust to, but just know I have your best interests at heart. You… are very dear to me, and you already know I would never hurt you.”

She was incredibly confused, her eyes darting from his unreadable expression, to the room, then down to her leg…

“I… see you’ve noticed it.”

There was a chain keeping her secured to the bed by her ankle. She lifted her leg a little, eyes widening when she realized she barely had any slack in the chain to move. “Kurapika… why..?”

He patted his tabard, slipping his hand into his pocket and taking out a key. Kurapika kneeled in front of her, his eyes lingering on her plush thighs for a moment before his hand hovered over her ankle. “May I?”

Without much choice, (Name) nodded and held out her leg for him. Kurapika held her leg gently, his slender fingers grasping onto her ankle as he unlocked the cuff on her leg. “It was just a precaution, in case you woke up when I wasn’t around… and… freaked out.”

She didn’t respond, just lifting her leg to rub her ankle. (Name) didn’t even notice because she had barely been awake, but she hadn’t had a lot of movement in that leg, only just able to lay it on the bed.

He let out a soft sigh, placing the chain under her bed after locking it to make sure she couldn’t do anything with it. “… do you… have any questions? Any requests?”

“… did… did you kidnap me?”

It was a stupid question she already knew the answer to, but it was hard to wrap her mind around the possibility that the sweet boy she knew had the capacity to take her away from her home without her consent and lock her in chains. This wasn’t something she ever expected from him, someone she considered a friend.

He was quiet for a moment, as if in deep thought. Kurapika stood up, brushing off his tabard before answering. “Technically? Yes, I did, but please (Name), don’t be afraid. You aren’t a prisoner here. Your every need and want will be met, you’ll be taken care of properly. You’ll never want for anything, not food or drink-“

“What if I want to see my friends and family?”

Kurapika went quiet again, his eyes half lidded. “… with good behavior you can call them once a week. You haven’t just disappeared, I made sure to… inform all of your close friends and family that you moved to a new country to start a new life.”

She started to tremble, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ll… never get to see my family again?”

The way her voice cracked broke Kurapika’s heart, his shell of composure breaking for a second when his lip twitched down into a frown. “(Name)… I…”

He reached out to cup her cheek and wipe her tears away, but pulled back before he could reach her. Did he even deserve to touch her right now, after putting her through all of this?

‘She… probably needs space,’ Kurapika thought, turning around and heading towards the door.

“… please, familiarize yourself with your new room. You have plenty of books, a TV with access to cable television and sites for streaming, and art supplies. There’s also a few journals and pens, if… writing out your feelings may help you feel… better.”

Kurapika had attempted to gather all of her favorite things and decorate her room to look as close to her original one to make the move as seamless and stress free as possible, but he knew no matter what he did to make her as comfortable as possible, he was still keeping her there against her will.

He hesitated for a moment, considering giving her another dose of the drug he gave her to bring her there, take her home, and convince her it had all been a bad dream. She was home, her friend hadn’t kidnapped her, and their relationship didn’t have to change. Her hating him was one of the things he feared most after all.

But he feared her untimely demise even more. Steeling himself, Kurapika reminded himself why he did what he did. Above all else, her safety came first. Above her own free will, above her happiness, above his own selfish need to be the one she cared for most.

Kurapika was okay with becoming the villain, of killing potential threats and stealing her away if it meant she would live out the rest of her life in safety and comfort. Although her safety would always come first, he did want (Name) to be happy, he cared about her more than anything!

“Kurapika?”

He paused in the doorway when she called out for him, turning his head slightly to look at her. She seemed so vulnerable and small on the soft bed he picked out for her. “Yes, (Name)?”

“… am I stuck here forever?”

His heart thumped against his chest. From the look on her face, she already knew the answer to that question, but he didn’t mind confirming it. “… yes. This is your new home, please… try to get used to it. If you need anything, I’ll… be downstairs. Just call for me and I’ll come. This room is yours, and I won’t come in without knocking unless I fear for your safety.”

She nodded, sinking into her bed and clinging to one of the stuffed animals he snatched from her home. It was a Cinnamoroll plush Kurapika had gotten for her a year ago for her birthday, along with some baked goods from the bakery she liked. He had always been so thoughtful and sweet, just looking around the room he meticulously prepared for her was evidence enough.

“… alright…”

(Name) was still tired and her body felt heavy. She wasn’t sure why, but it felt like she’d taken a muscle relaxer or something of the like. Kurapika watched to make sure she got into bed okay and was off to sleep before he gave the smallest of smiles and closed the door behind him.

————————

When she woke up, there was a sandwich and a bag of her favorite chips sitting on her nightstand, along with a bottle of water. Parched and starving, she ate quickly, before noticing there was a note under her plate.

‘You’ve been asleep for nearly an entire day. When you wake up, eat this then come downstairs so I can show you around the cabin.’

(Name) finished her bag of chips before throwing the trash away in the strawberry shaped trash can by her bed. It was the same one she had at home, and she wondered how Kurapika was able to find a copy of it, considering she got hers in a garage sale.

She noticed there was another door in her room besides the one Kurapika came from. Feeling curious, she decided to check it out before wandering downstairs.

It was a small bathroom, with a shower, toilet, and sink. When she peeked behind the pink shower curtain, she saw all of the products she used when bathing, down to her favorite brand of shaving cream.

The tooth brush she liked and the flavor of toothpaste she preferred was set neatly by the sink, and when she checked the medicine cabinet she saw her prescriptions, though the bottles were mostly empty. ‘Probably to make sure I don’t… take them all at once.’

The thought was morbid, but she could understand why Kurapika would be cautious. Humans could get desperate when pushed into a corner, and if she broke, she might try and kill herself.

To test her theory, she looked around to see if there was a razor to shave with, but saw none. She wondered why he would give her shaving cream but no razor. Maybe he… was going to watch her when she shaved? That thought made her face heat up in embarrassment.

(Name) washed her face and brushed her teeth, trying to take solace in the mundane. She knew she wasn’t currently in any danger, so she tried her best to relax. Kurapika wouldn’t have gone through all that effort to make her happy and comfortable if he was going to brutally murder or assault her, and… she didn’t want to think the sweet friend she knew was capable of hurting her like that.

Though (Name) had her reasons to be cautious, he was an incredibly strong person with privilege and power due to being a hunter, she didn’t feel afraid, just… confused and a little betrayed. Sad as well, but what could she do? Right now, she couldn’t do anything, so she might as well relax while she could.

By the door to the hallway, there was a pair of pink bunny slippers. She remembered telling him that she wanted to get herself a pair of slippers because of how cold it was getting. It was strangely sweet to know how much he listened to her random tangents about things.

She put them on before opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. Kurapika had said something about being downstairs if she needed something, so she wasn’t surprised to see wooden railing 5ish feet from her door.

(Name) walked down the stairs, holding onto the railing. She could smell the familiar scent of vanilla in the air, mixed with a bit of cinnamon and pine. Kurapika must have snagged some of her favorite candles to make the cabin smell closer to home…

The living room was decorated sparsely, with just a maroon couch, an oak coffee table, and large flat screen TV. She wondered how long it took him to get this place set up and how long he had planned on taking her away.

“(Name).”

She nearly jumped out of her bunny slippers when she heard Kurapika’s voice behind her. Thankfully he was able to catch her before she fell on her butt, the blonde surprisingly strong. He held onto her shoulders, steadying her before letting go.

“Sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She glanced at him, seeing the softness in his eyes as a sign he was telling the truth. “It’s alright, you’ve alway moved so quietly, even… before…”

Kurapika looked away, a frown on his face. “… now that you’re awake, I can show you around. This is your home now, you’ll need to know where everything is so you can fend for yourself while I’m gone.”

He walked past her, the blonde glancing back to signal for her to follow him.

(Name) was lead to the kitchen, where Kurapika stood awkwardly in the center. “You can look around. Open the cabinets, search through the drawers, just familiarize yourself with the place. I want you to be completely comfortable here.”

She didn’t say what she wanted, tht she would never be truly comfortable when she was trapped. (Name) couldn’t say it, not when she wasn’t completely sure she was safe. He may never physically harm her, but there were other ways to deal with people besides hurting their bodies.

Instead, (Name) did as told, opening the drawers. She blinked when she saw all the utensils were hard plastic, like the stuff you’d use for babies. The knives were understandable, but the spoons and forks?

“Why… is everything plastic?”

Kurapika peeked over your shoulder, his expression unreadable. “It’s safer.”

“Safer? How could I get hurt using a metal spoon?”

He didn’t answer, simply closing the drawer. “Just… keep looking around.”

She sent him a concerned look before continuing to look around. There was plenty of food in the pantries, and the dishes were also all hard plastic, with the plates being those plates with sectioned parts to put different sides of your meal.

Every dish was a soft pink, even the pots and pans. He had really gotten everything in her favorite color, and she almost wanted to laugh when she spotted a pink sponge by the sink.

“Well?”

Kurapika was hovering around (Name) again, his eyes looking over her face to see if she liked the kitchen he set up just for her. He went through great lengths to make sure everything was safe and pink, trying to please her.

“Well, everything is very pink.”

Kurapika waited, staring at her with those intense brown eyes of his. “And?”

“And… it’s nice, thank you.”

The blonde wasn’t expecting that, and before he could hide it his eyes widened slightly as a the lightest of pink graced his cheeks.

“I’m… glad you like it,” he said softly, watching her with adoring eyes as she looked in the fridge. It was hard not to stare when she was finally here, where no one but him could gaze at her.

After a thorough tour of the kitchen, he lead her to his room. Compared to hers, it was pretty empty and dull. The sheets were a plain gray color, the walls white. There was not a single decoration in sight, just an empty cup on his nightstand.

The only furniture in the barren room was his nightstand, bed, a dresser, and a small bookshelf tucked away in a far back corner. “If you need anything, just come to my room. Knock if the door is closed.”

He watched as she looked around, smiling a little when she peeked at his books. “There’s nothing you’d find of interest there, (Name). Just a few history books.”

She glanced at him. “Is this all you wanted to show me?”

He shook his head, offering her his hand. “There’s one more thing.”

It hurt a little to see the hesitant in her eyes, her hand trembling slightly as she reached out to take his. Kurapika made sure to keep his grip on her hand as gentle and tender as he could manage.

“I’m… not going to hurt you. You know that, right (Name)?”

She didn’t answer, looking away from him. He felt his stomach twist into knots. Kurapika didn’t want her to fear him, it hurt too much to bear. He would have to build up her trust all over again, if he could even get her to trust him at all after kidnapping her.

“… come on, we have one last stop.”

He guided her to the back of the cabin, taking a key from his pocket and opening the door. She watched nervously as a dark hallway was revealed, making her tremble in fear. Kurapika seemed to notice this, taking out his phone to use as a flashlight. “I… was planning on getting lights installed in this hallway before I brought you here, but…”

He went quiet, shaking his head. “Never mind, come on.”

As he took her hand, she jumped slightly when his thumb brushed against her palm, as if he was trying to comfort her. Before, the action would have made her blush and giggle, but now it only filled her with dread.

The irrational side of her feared he would take her down to a dark basement and leave her there to die, but she had to tell herself that if that’s what he wanted to do, then why would he try so hard to replicate her room and make her comfortable? For gods sake every dish and pan in the house was pink and the silverware was hard plastic, if he planned on keeping her in a basement, why go through all that effort?

But sometimes the brain doesn’t listen to reason. (Name) found herself shaking uncontrollably, audibly yelping when she was suddenly engulfed in a bright light.

The light hadn’t actually been that bright, her eyes had just adjusted to the darkness. She had to blink a few times to get used to the change in light, and when she did she was pleasantly surprised.

She stood in the middle of a lush garden, with flowers, vegetables, and trees bearing all kinds of fruit.

There was a bench, along with a table and chairs so she could rest and eat outside if she wanted to. The only think that made her a little uneasy was the fact that the garden was in a glass dome, the only thing connecting her to the outside world being little vents that allowed the outside air in.

“I… figured you wouldn’t be happy stuck inside at all hours of the day. Humans need sunlight and fresh air to be happy.”

She nodded slowly, letting go of his hand to investigate the garden. Kurapika watched, holding his breath to see if she would like it. “I thought you may like to take up gardening as a hobby. There are many varieties of plants here, meaning fresh vegetables and fruit. I had… a friend make sure these plants will produce all throughout the year, so you don’t have to worry about them going in and out of season.”

With a soft sigh, (Name) picked an apple from one of the trees, looking it over. It was a brilliant shade of red, probably the most beautiful apple she had ever seen. “You… really put a lot of effort into this…”

“I did. I wanted to make sure you were as happy here as you could possibly be.”

(Name) rubbed the apple on her sleeve before taking a bite. It was good, better than any store bought apple she’d eaten. “You… didn’t have to do this, you know. You didn’t have to kidnap me… I don’t… I don’t understand. I was perfectly fine, living a normal, happy life. Why… why, Kurapika?”

He didn’t seem angered by her question, not even surprised. Kurapika only sighed, not meeting her eyes. “I… can’t tell you everything, all I can say is that I did it for you. I’ve already told you how important you are to me. I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Silence overtook the garden, and (Name) took that as a sign that he was done talking. “Alright… you probably already know I’m not okay with this. I see no reason to fight with you, seeing as we both know who would come out as the winner.”

Kurapika stayed silent for a moment, knowing what she said was true. “… I will never hurt you. You don’t have to worry about that.”

(Name) let the half eaten apple fall the ground, her eyes fixed on the fruit. “… take me back to me room, please. I… want to be alone.”

Kurapika nodded slowly, letting her walk ahead of him. When she was looking, he picked up the fallen apple and dusted the dirt off. ‘I… don’t know if she’ll ever see me the same way again. Do I even deserve her love and trust? I…’

He stared at the fruit, his eyes and cheeks turning scarlet as he pressed a kiss into the bite mark she left.

‘I’m doing this for her. No one will ever harm her, not on my watch.’

As the blonde placed the apple in his pocket, he tried not to think about the more selfish, and immoral thoughts he had about her. The need for her touch, her love, her kiss… these were all things he wouldn’t allow himself to want.

But being pent up like that wouldn’t do him any favors in the future, especially not when he already had his own share of anger issues.

He never wanted to hurt her, never… but as he watched her walk up the stairs and to her room, he had the sickening thought of how much easier it would make keeping her hear if she had a broken leg.

These thoughts weren’t his own, he told himself. It was the result of anxiety and stress. Everyone had intrusive thoughts, he didn’t actually want to hurt her.

Despite knowing this, it still filled him with dread and self hatred every time his mind drifted to ways of keeping her complicit and obedient through fear and pain instead of love and care. It would be easier to hurt and scare her into behaving, he knew that, but he didn’t want to hurt or scare her. He wanted her to be as happy and comfortable as could be, and he wanted her to at least view him in a positive light.

How would he be any better than who he was trying to protect her from if he hurt and scared her? It wasn’t worth it, and just the thought of causing even the smallest wound to her pretty skin made him want to vomit.

This was part of the reason he didn’t want to touch her too much. When he did, his mind ran rampant with obsessive and irrational thoughts. Some were about wanting her to be his, to love him, and others were more on the naughty and immoral side.

It was no secret to the blonde that he had feelings for her of the sexual nature as well, but he pushed those feelings down with the bad thoughts as well, hoping they would go away. He didn’t even know if she would come to see him as a friend again, much less a sexual partner or lover. Kurapika didn’t want to get his hopes up.

But as he laid in bed that night, listening to her soft breathing in the room next to him, he couldn’t stop the hand that drifted below his belt, gently stroking his leaking cock. She was right there, sleeping just beyond the wall, and it made his entire body tingle with excitement. He knew that this was wrong, that it was only feeding into his desires, but he couldn’t help it.

When he came, the obsessive, nagging thought of filling her to the brim with his cum, impregnating her and continuing the Kurta clan through her womb made his brain fuzzy and his body warm.

He had to shake away the thought, hitting his head until the pain got too overwhelming. ‘Stop, stop it! No… I can’t think like that. She may never want that, and… and that’s okay. I did this for her safety, having her around me and being happy about that is only a side effect.’

Kurapika curled up under his blanket, his eyelids dropping. He had trouble sleeping ever since his clan was massacred, the nightmare making sleep almost impossible, but since he met (Name), her presence alone was enough to stave off his bad dreams.

The only problem was being away from her. Before he kidnapped her, when he had to go away for long missions, not only did he have nightmares about his clan’s massacre, he also dreamt of (Name) being brutally murdered or tortured. It was enough to leave him trembling, sometimes even vomiting after waking up.

The anxiety made it hard for him to function and focus on his work. He kidnapped her for her safety first of course, but also so he didn’t have to worry himself to death. Now that he had her to come home to, to protect, he would be much more careful and focused during his missions to collect the scarlet eyes and find the Phantom Troupe.

When he finally fell asleep, Kurapika dreamed of a happy, normal life with (Name), a life he could never give her.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

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WIBTA if i cut off someone reaching out for help on tumblr? i am a very anxious person. ive been on tumblr a very long time because most all other social media terrifies me as someone who grew up with the wild west internet a decade past (im in my late 20s) so i feel sometimes with how reckless and spurractic people can be online in chatroom and especially clearly public platforms where any stranger, malicious or otherwise can just archive your digital presence for personal use.

more recently as someone who has been here during the pornban and as an asexual really enjoyed the quiet with no drama farming and a slow pace to talk about more unique political topics in a measured way it is something im strangely nostalgic for and a great example of my sensibilities to people when they insist that i use other platforms like discord or twitter or whatever clone for these services comes out of the old guard introducing feature creep to copy everyone else or any other indi "were the anti corporate version" of the endless scroll apps. i just dont want it. tumblr is special because im desktop only, been here for years, and i have kept track of every single change made so i have manually adjusted the change through hacks to evade every bad decision on here and make my set up look identical to how it was in 2010. so let it be understood that i tend to be a loney person because of this stubbornness. web 3.0 is too dangerous to people with addictive tendencies that my adhd brings out and my need to wear my heart on my sleeve. so i hope i defended my personality type enough to show why someone like me would see a post about some horrible abuses they have fell victim to who also share alot of the marginalized status as me and writing depressive things in the replys of others posts as to attention seek about it.

i directly interact with this person, not only to check if they are real (but wow, modern chat bots make this part horrifying for me. we really cant ever know for sure what is real anymore. trying to find warmth on the internet feels impossible now a days) i have multiple conversations at this point both venting and just casually shooting the shit. but the begging for me to constantly repost their paypal makes me so nervous in a way that i feel so guilty for because it reminds me of all the scams that get associated with this kind of ebegging and the reminder that capitalism takes away all warmth from human interaction to make them purely transnational and conditional. but then it just has been escalating where im so scared that now its not enough that im reposing on my 8 follower, all mutual blog, they are asking me to share it on other socials. accounts i do not have i have a flip phone and a laptop and i am tinkering with a windows 7 tower that will never be connected to the internet so i can always have software sit perfectly in its time capsule for when i need it. i do not have a way to help this person outside of what i learned from collage psyche classes. a part of me is so scared to just abruptly cut them off and just delete my entire account like i tend to do often on tumblr for a multitude of reasons, its a part of what lets people survive being here this long but i worry that would crush them if i did that, i dont want to make them feel more hopeless and unwanted then they already talk about. but i am text on the internet through a screen. i can only do so much. so would i be the asshole if i just deleted my account with a "i hope you hang in there, the world is a harsh place but keep moving" to cut someone so similar to me who is struggling out of my life?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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amitiagailec · 2 months

Text

Wowie what's this? Me active in Tumblr (and Discord again??)

I am still uncertain how I want to go with this but I am motivated by the idea of making an AU in CRK. Look if you want content you gotta make em yourself.

Not much is decided but here's the idea so far:

Fragment!AU. SM is named Ternate Milk Cookie/Fragment!SM

•Inspired from how a part of WL (or WL herself now) "survived"/stayed lingering despite DE, I just decided maybe the Beasts will have a manifestation of their own, be it just remnants/manifestations of them that continues to walk Earthbread despite their true selves being sealed.

Just as how the soul jams can kinda imitate and preserve the will of their holders it seemed, I think they'd be somewhat like that in that regard, in the middle of the Darkness and Light of the Virtues.

•TM Cookie as manifestation of SM is often at Ghost City and Blueberry Yogurt Academy, because of connection to his past, a continuation of what he started as the Virtue, and the source of power/dimension of this place.

•There's also SM's territory in Beast Yeast. But he doesn't always do so.

•This decreased after PV inherited the Light of Truth, but not completely.

•Every headmaster of the academy is aware of TM. From every predecessor to a new one he is to be regarded as a "guest" providing him things when he needed it, and only be cautious when he is displaying...tendencies. Every once in a while, some professors would find an unknown Cookie wandering the school and disappearing before they could find him. Most times they'd forget but the quiet rumor of a ghost lingers from time to time.

•Students when familiar are very much warned when they were found to have seen or interacted with him for there have been a few cases of...luring.

•Despite the wariness, TM still provides support every once in awhile. Correcting formulas for spells and potions by professors, returning books to the library when someone forgot and often arranging them, making suggestions to the headmasters themselves, and teaching young cookies when they passed by him. The last one be how he will bond with a certain Cookie.

•As a manifestation, TM cannot interact with anything in his surroundings unless he puts his effort into it, drawing from what energy and magic he can, another reason why the place is important. Appearing alone draws a lot from him if he were anywhere else.

•He can recall what knowledge he still has from before, but anything related to Beast Yeast, his comrades, and his own deeds are always blocked from his mind. Any trigger makes him uncomfortable. He'd eventually forget that happened.

•TM is still connected to his real self SM, who would often show when his attitude changes. Just another way of SM to interact and spectate outside of his prison, mostly showing when his expression darkens. What TM forgets, SM remembers very well.

#crk #cookie run #crk au #shadow milk cookie #fragment au #vanillaverse #except its just my SM for now #pv is in academy days or pre as well #what is this lore dump

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viviennevermillion · 2 years

Text

Exploring Teyvat

dark content blogs dni

prompt: on a free day, they take you to some beautiful places in teyvat to spend their time with the one they love

contains: spontaneous nature dates, character x gn!reader

characters included: pantalone, diluc, capitano, dottore

warnings: none

notes: why is dottore's so long again why am I like this what has this man done to my brain?????

also feel free to join my discord

P a n t a l o n e

Pantalone and the outdoors is not a combination you see a lot. He travels with a luxurious carriage specifically for him and with a butler in tow and doesn't pay much mind to the scenery.

But when he took you with him on a business trip to the Northland Bank in Liyue, he didn't want to pass up on the opportunity to show you some nice places

On your way to the harbor, the two of you spent a night at Wangshu Inn, sharing a nice dinner and renting a room together.

It was your first time traveling with Pantalone and he had held you close at night, littering your shoulder with kisses while mumbling how much he loved you before you went to sleep.

After sharing a nice breakfast with you while it was still dark outside, Pantalone told his butler to drive the carriage further south.

Stopping at Luhua Pool, Pantalone walked up the hills with you so you could admire the scenery together. He sat down with you on a picnic blanket to enjoy the sunrise.

Pantalone wrapped his arms around you from behind and was more busy burying his face in your neck and kissing your cheek than staring at the scenery.

"Aren't you going to watch the sunrise too?", you chuckled as Pantalone rested his head on your shoulder and closed his eyes. He caressed your cheek and pressed yet another kiss to your neck. "You're so much more precious, my dearest", you could feel him smile against your skin before he let out a quiet yawn. He was still tired from getting up so early.

You ran your fingers through his hair as you watched the sun rise over Liyue.

You eventually decided it was time to take a little walk and took your lover's hand, guiding him to the other side of the Luhua Pool where you inspected the terrace paddies before removing your shoes to step into one.

You gestured for Pantalone to follow you but the rich harbinger looked sceptical. "You don't know what's been in there, y/n."

"It's crystal-clear water, it's gonna be fine", you snickered and closed your eyes.

"Clear water can still have bacteria. Dottore says-" "Get over here", you laughed and Pantalone sighed, knowing he couldn't possibly say no to you about this. Not when you smiled at him like this. Besides, he already missed having you in his arms again. Reluctantly, Pantalone took off his fancy shoes and followed you through the water.

You grabbed his hand when he was close enough and leaned against the stone behind you. "See? Isn't this nice? The feeling of the ground beneath our feet, the refreshing water, the beautiful sunrise....", you rambled.

"My feet are wet and cold", Pantalone complained, wrapping his arms around your waist again. "That's what water tends to be like", you chuckled. Not the one in my private spa..., Pantalone thought and sighed.

You splash a bit of water in his face and he's like "N- Don't do that", and pouts.

In the end he grew to enjoy this moment with you despite his initial complaints. He adored the way you smiled at him and gazed into his eyes, taking his hand and pressing kisses to his knuckles. Pantalone pulled you into a deep kiss and took a photo of the two of you to remember your journey before his butler picked you up with the carriage to take you to Liyue Harbor.

D i l u c

Diluc got this idea to take a little detour on his way back to the winery after his shift at Angel's Share was over.

The next day in the afternoon he takes you home with him but not before stopping at the little lake behind Springvale.

After taking a walk through the small village, Diluc asks you whether you'd like to go for a swim in the lake. If you agree, Diluc stays close to you in the water, always making sure you're safe and comfortable and aren't too cold.

Diluc lets down his hair and you bury your hands in it while wrapping your arms and legs around him as he holds you in the water. Diluc kisses your cheek, relishing in the feeling of your fingers in his red mane.

If you tease him this could end in a water fight. Just the two of you splashing each other with water. If you happen to have a hydro or anemo vision you'll definitely win. It's one of the few moments you really see him let down his guard completely and just have fun with you, laughing like he did when he was a little boy and playing outside with Kaeya. For a moment he could forget about his troubles.

You pick him up with the help of the water and Diluc slightly blushes at the feeling of being held like this by you for once. He chuckles at how you carry him through the water bridal style. "I'm beginning to understand why you like this so much", he smiles and you bow down to press a kiss to his lips from above

After you're done swimming, Diluc sits down with you on a towel he brought and wraps another towel around you.

Diluc is one of those people who dries incredibly fast in the sun despite his long hair. You suspect it's because of his pyro vision. Either way, he holds you close to make sure you're warm.

Once the two of you are fully dried, he helps you up a point at the cliff where it was easy to climb up and journeys to the top of the waterfall that meets the lake you swam in with you.

In the distance you can see Dragonspine and its snowy areas and can feel the air get colder the closer you get to it. Diluc lends you his coat temporarily and guides you up the cliff. The snowy mountain has faded out of view and you instead enjoyed seeing the waterfall from above as Diluc wrapped his arms around you.

If you like to use a wind glider or would like to practice gliding, this is the perfect spot.

Diluc would teach you to glide and make sure you know nothing will happen to you as long as he's there.

Is happy if he sees you enjoy gliding after he taught you.

After the trip he takes you home to the winery to cuddle with you in bed

C a p i t a n o

Out of all the harbingers, Capitano is the most whipped for his s/o and the clingiest and I will die on this hill (Pantalone is a close second)

On a trip to Inazuma, he suggests visiting Watatsumi Island with you

He travels there with you on one of the ships of the Snezhnayan fleet and a couple of citizens think you're here for war while Capitano just wants to spend a nice day with his lover

When you wake up in the Captain's room alone in the morning, Capitano has already gotten breakfast ready for you and waits for you on deck with a huge bouquet of local flowers for you and you can tell he's blushing underneath his helmet.

He puts the flowers in a vase in your room and takes his helmet off, letting you give him a kiss. Or 20 of them. Honestly you planned to leave for your trip way earlier but ended up snuggling in bed again with Capitano just giving you slow and loving kisses for what feels like forever. "I love you so much, you have no idea", he whispers before kissing you again, his tongue swirling around yours. One of his hands holds your waist while the other is gently cupping your cheek.

Once you decided it was about time you got on your way, Capitano takes you to the Heart of Watatsumi Island.

You marvel in awe at the cave while Capitano can't take his eyes off you.

He picks you up and spins you around before holding you close again.

Asks you for a dance on one of the platform in the cave

Capitano dancing is an interesting view because that man is basically a tower and he's buff af but he's trying to dance with you and he's so gentle and careful with you

He wraps his arm around you and looks at the glowing pearl at the cave's ceiling with you. In a way, its beauty reminds him of you.

You explore the cave together and eventually settle down outside of the cave, watching the sunset over the beautiful island from between the two waterfalls.

Capitano thinks back to the pearl and considers whether something like it would do well on a ring for you. Man's basically been ready to marry you from the moment you first told him you loved him.

"You mean everything to me, I hope you know that, y/n", Capitano whispers, holds you close and closes his eyes, leaning his head against yours comfortably.

D o t t o r e

Oh god, this man

Look Dottore may be an evil lunatic but at the core he will always be a nerd who likes to hike through the Sumeru woods for research

Usually he'd send one of his clones to pick up some plants he needs for his lab or would ask Pantalone to order them for him but today he wanted to go to Sumeru himself and take you along with him.

Reminiscent of his time at the Akademiya, Dottore guided you through Mawtiyima Forest whilst rambling about biological things you didn't understand. Other than that he pretty much ignored you at the beginning, being too focused on collecting his samples and inspecting the forest. The times where he guided you away from dangerous plants or helped you over large rocks reminded you that even though it didn't seem like it, Dottore was always looking out for you.

With a sigh he eventually noticed that you didn't really understand his ramblings so he tried the simpler approach of telling you about the plants and mushrooms he was collecting and what could be made out of them.

"This one's poisonous, this one makes you hallucinate, that one made the third sage see the heat death of the universe", he explained while pointing at different mushrooms before stopping at one, "this one's edible." He took the large mushroom with him and later made a little campfire and grilled it for you. He took some spices out of his backpack that he brought along and seasoned it before handing it to you.

You were a bit sceptical because Dottore never cooked anything at home. He went off the rails while he was still at the Akademiya, living off student dorm food and that is a habit he kept. On some days when he was too focused on his research to bother making himself something to eat, he settled for dry ramen noodles. But Dottore has learnt how to survive in the wilderness during his time with various research teams and he knew how to make a meal out of things he found in the forests.

"It's not poisonous", he rolled his eyes underneath his mask as he saw you inspect the mushroom. You took a bite and noticed that it tasted indeed good. After you both finished eating you thanked Dottore for preparing this for you and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

After putting out the fire, Dottore guided you up the hills and cliffs. What was straining for you he walked and climbed with ease. You marvel at the grass below your feet that lit up when you stepped on it and Dottore told you it was because the forest recognized how exceptional the two of you were. You were pretty sure he made that up.

He eventually stepped on one of the large glowing mushrooms and gestured you to follow him. From the top of it you could see the whole forest and smiled, leaning against Dottore.

Once the two of you relaxed and looked at the forest for a while, Dottore took off his mask and his shirt and walked towards the little pool on the giant mushroom.

"Join me", he just said. "In the mushroom water?", you raised your eyebrows.

"iN thE mUsHrOOm wAtER???", he imitated you in a high-pitched voice and groaned, "the 'mushroom water' is actually warm and very clean. The correct scientific term for it is-"

You told him to tell you later because if he was trying to convince you to join him, it was probably beneficial for you not to know where the mushroom water came from.

But much to your surprise the water was actually warm like Dottore had said and you found it quite relaxing.

Many things Dottore told you that you were sceptical about turned out to be true to the point where he argued that you shouldn't be surprised anymore. To be fair, sometimes he did tell people things that ended with them as dead bodies but he'd always roll his eyes and tell you you should know he loved you by now.

Dottore seemed distant and passive at first but eventually pulled you closer and let you rest against his chest. He pressed several kisses to your cheek and ended up kissing your lips for a while. He trailed kisses down your neck and gently nibbled at your skin here and there. You loved when he was affectionate as he didn't show that side of him this openly very often.

"This forest is beautiful", you commented once again and kissed Dottore, "thanks for taking me here." "Do you want to know why the mushrooms are glowing?", he asked nonchalantly. "Sure", you chuckled.

Dottore eventually put up a tent for the two of you near the canyon. He let you wear one of his shirts for sleep and let you join him in his sleeping bag. Held tightly against him, he kept you warm the whole night and pressed a kiss to your forehead once he noticed you had fallen asleep.

#genshin impact #pantalone x reader #diluc x reader #capitano x reader #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #il capitano #il capitano x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #pantalone #dottore #il dottore #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr

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lilyrizzy · 1 year

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jealous max who won’t let himself come off jealous but failing my beloved… an essential headcanon in these times lol. also reassuring daniel…

"You are still coming to Monaco, yes?"

It's the third time in just as many days that Max has asked him this. Over phonecalls that he initiated too. It's- Strange. Normally, getting ahold of him while they're in different places is impossible. Daniel once downloaded fucking discord in a desperate attempt to check his boyfriend really was just too busy on the sim and not like, dying in some corner of their apartment.

"Max, of course I am coming," Daniel tells him. For the third time. Then, because hopefully it will remind Max that he can't exactly get out of it- "It's in my contract, remember?"

Instead of the reasuring 'of course,' Daniel is expecting, followed by a mile a minute play-by-play of his charity race on Sunday, there's silence.

Or, at least no words from Max's mouth. Daniel can hear him breathing, the soft drag and drop of air, the rustling of sheets. It's easy then for Daniel to picture him shifting in their bed, and the familiar ache of missing him blooms in his chest.

"Maxy?"

"You can, of course, probably get out of it," Max says after another pause, voice casual in a way Daniel knows him well enough to have nicknamed his 'fuck the media' voice.

Why do you think you have crashed so many times this year, Max?

"Why would I do that?" Daniel asks with a startled laugh. Then, "come on, don't you miss me?"

Their joke that never quite felt it, not when Daniel has had so many things to miss over the last few years. Max, when they're apart. Family. Driving. The version of himself he used to see mirrored in Max's eyes as he watched Daniel climb up onto that top step.

It's even less funny now, when Max asks like he really is uncertain, "I don't know. Do you miss me?"

"Of course I do, baby," Daniel insists, sitting up from where he's been sprawled out on his back, the shitty pillows of the hotel bed too hard. He doesn't know where this is going, but he knows it's nowhere good.

There's more quiet, just the sound of Max wriggling. If Daniel was there, he could roll himself into Max's lap, hold his wrists above his head. Kiss him, tell him he's not letting him go until he turns that frown upside down.

Over the phone, all he can do is wait. Say his name again, until-

"You just- With Scotty, I think you have more fun. Than with me."

Max's voice is small, but his words knock the breath from Daniel's chest.

"Max," is all he can croak out for a moment, unsure of how to fix this.

Clutting the phone harder with one hand, his other comes stupidly to his mouth, knawing. In his mind, he tries to retrace his steps, to work out how they got here, but he knows he and Scotty have been hanging out a lot. And-

And there's some truth to it, Daniel can't lie. It's just not in the way Max thinks. It's not a question of fun, more-

"Sometimes, I just need- I don't know baby, to get away from it all," he rushes to explain around his bleeding nail bed, hating that all has to mean Max too. "The reminders that I'm not driving. That- That I failed."

Scotty is good for talking about everything but. His one good friend that never came with him to every fucking race, wasn't employed because of his career. Didn't see every crack, tear and scream that way Michael, Blake, Max did.

Somebody he can still be Danny Ric with, when he's sick of being Daniel Ricciardo, washed up and left out to dry.

"You did not fail," Max says, petulant, and Daniel doesn't deserve the smile he can't quite bite back, the way Max defends him even against himself. "You- I love you. I do not want to be something you need to run away from. It- It frightens me, feeling not so close."

Daniel is such a cunt.

"We are close," he insists, desperate, because they have to be. This can't be another thing he loses. "We- I'm going to get in the car and drive home right now, and show you how close we are. I'm going lie on top of you, squash you until we become one person, I- Fuck, Maxy, I'm sorry. I love you too, you- You know that, right, that I love you?"

To his relief, Max lets out a noise that's close to laugh, though it sounds wet like he's crying and Daniel wants to wring his own neck.

Instead, he gets up and starts packing.

"Yes?" Max says, checking. "Even if I remind you of all the bad things."

Daniel shakes his head though Max can't see, pausing where he'd been shoving his wallet into his pocket.

"Maxy, you are all champagne showers," he promises, and sometimes he can lie when he's sure that one day soon it will be the truth. "Champagne showers and Monday lie-ins. Just- Fuck it, I'll drive back in my PJ's, just give me a few hours, yeah?"

"You are coming home?" Max asks, hopeful through his tears.

Daniel so badly wants to kiss him.

"Yeah, baby, I'm coming home."

#*fingers in my ears* lalalalala daniel/scotty i can't hear you #lol this is soooooooo fucking self indulgant it's unreal BUT daniel drives home from the south of france #where i made up scotty is on holiday fyi bc i cant face the insta deepdive required to find out the facts #and has tender deep passionate sex with max because THEY ARE IN LOVE #and i do not want to hear anything to the contrary:P #max/daniel #fic #also maybe the pacing of this is horrible i dont know anyway byyeeee

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that-lazy-snail · 1 year

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Being a fan of Avatar (the movie with blue people) is literally the most exhausting fan experience I've ever had, and I'm a female Star Wars fan, who's favorite Star Wars movie is The Last Jedi.

I'm by no means claiming that the movie is flawless or even "great" but it is by scifi blockbuster standards pretty good. It's no more or less racist than the Star Wars prequels and the writing isn't any worse than the scriptwriting in the Star Wars prequels either, yet it's treated with such disdain among people on the internet that I can't even talk about it without receiving random hateful comments.

I cosplay from the movie, more specifically the new movie and an OC that I designed in 2018. I love the movie, especially the visual elements and the design of the Na'vi and their culture, I think it's a fascinating metaphor for our treatment of indigenous peoples and our planet, I love the themes the film presents. But I'm also aware that it's harmful to indigenous people as well because it promotes a white savior narrative, that it's harmful to disabled people by promoting the narrative that they can't live full lives unless they're normative. I don't deny those problems with the movie, and I have plenty of criticisms of the new film as well. Particularly the use of locks on Jake and Spider, and I saw a video on tiktok complaining about that and I left a comment saying that I really wish they hadn't done that and I thought it was a really poor styling choice since up until that point none of the Na'vi we'd seen have locks so it doesn't logically make sense to give them that hair style. I got quite a bit of response to that comment, some people agreeing with me but largely people were saying, "why do you cosplay it then?" "why do you support it then?" like is it not okay to like things and also have criticism for them? I'm allowed to like things about it and also not like things about it.

I also keep seeing videos saying that Avatar has no cultural impact, that it doesn't have a long lasting fan base despite having lore comparable to Lord of the Rings. Here's the thing with that, it totally does have lore comparable to Lord of the Rings but the fan base can't thrive like LOTR fans or even Star Trek could partially because the internet wasn't a space in the same way then as it was when Avatar came out and the other fact is the sheer amount of shaming and harassment that Avatar fans get. I've seen people leave the fandom because of the hate they received on the internet. They quite literally get bullied out of their enjoyment of the movie. People say that Avatar has no fans, but it's fans are chronically silent and reclusive in our liking of the film for fear of getting harassed. I am part of Facebook groups of that have thousands of members and a very active discord. Avatar fans exist, they just keep low and quiet so as to protect themselves. I know people who speak Na'vi in the same way people speak elvish or klingon, it's just not something we advertise because every time we try to share our enjoyment of the movie we get mean comments or mocking stitches/remixes of our videos, pictures, etc. It's not fun to be a public Avatar fan, it's scary and exhausting.

I love Avatar, Neytiri was one of the first truly strong and inspirational female characters I connected with as a child (I was 9 when the movie came out) and I was fascinated and enthralled with the world of Pandora, as were so many movie goers. I'm so tired of getting railed on for enjoying this movie, or even just the constant ridicule that comes through my feed about it. What happened to the golden rule of if you don't have anything nice to say (or on this case even anything that provides new/valuable commentary/criticism) don't say anything at all?

I'm so sick of hearing the same arguments I've heard a million times about why it's a retread plot of Pocahontas/Dances With Wolves/Ferngully, I've heard it all before, I've seen those movies before and their plots are in myths and any number of other stories, that's not why I love the movie. No amount of people saying that to me will change what I do like about the Avatar. I don't watch Avatar for the plot, I watch it for Pandora, and for the visual spectacle and the world building.

I'm sick of the argument that Avatar's treatment of indigenous voices is somehow worse than any other piece of media written by and for white communities, it's not. Even Avatar the Last Airbender (which is my favorite TV show of all time and is often acclaimed as a great example of native representation) also falls failure to the same mistake of casting white actors in POC roles and changing the narratives of natives to be more easily accepted and understood by white audiences. This is not to say that ATLA doesn't handle its message better than Avatar, but it's important to be aware of the ways in which all media has flaws, even the things we think are less problematic and it's important to acknowledge them and not tear the media down for it, but use it as means to make new media better. Cameron did improve with the Way of Water, he frequently consulted with the Maori tribes he was pulling inspiration from, there's literally articles written by Maori tribe members on it but it is still a white people movie, written by white people for white people so do with that what you will. But don't claim star wars is any better, the prequels were outrageously racist, and they still maintain majority white casts.

The new Avatar movie (the way of water) is not perfect, there are quite a few things I found to be poor choices in regards to cultural sensitivity (aka locks, and casting Kate Winslet as Ronal instead of a Polynesian actress) but it's still better than it's predecessor, and unlike so many people on the internet say, it is not "a bunch of white people playing poc" since neither Zoe Saldana, nor Trinity Jo-Li Bliss, or any of the Metkayina children or Cliff Curtis are white. In fact, Cliff Curtis is Maori, the culture that inspired the Metkayina and many of the extras who play background Na'vi in the films are POC, because in spite of James Cameron's failings, he did want the Na'vi to be played by people of color. Very very few of the Na'vi in the original movie are played by white people, only a few extras with less than 1 minute of screen time and no lines. All the major Na'vi roles were played by people of black and indigenous color. Eytukan was played by a Cherokee native, Mo'at (these people are the two clan leaders) is played by a indigenous woman from Africa and is very black. Zoe Saldana's parents are Dominican and Puerto Rican for god's sake! She is not white. This argument that he casts white people in POC roles is untrue. The Avatars are white cause they're meant to represent the invadors, wolf in sheep's clothing if you will. The Na'vi are bipoc, and they're played by bipoc.

After Avatar, James went to Brazil and became and activist for native communities. He went worked with Brazilian natives fighting the building of a dam over their local river, a dam with would power a major city in Brazil, but destroy the indigenous peoples access to water. He went to their community, and asked them what he could do to help. He donated money, protested, ran conferences and tried to disrupt the building of the dam using his influence, but it failed, and he had to watch the suffering of this indigenous tribe that he'd grown very close to in their time working together to prevent the dam. He's not Anti-indigenous as people love to claim, he's clumsy and arrogant (like all cis white men) but what he does is an attempt to elevate native voices not smother them even if he doesn't necessarily succeed.

The movie isn't the menace to society people portray it as, nor is it as boring or uncompelling as people claim. But I still can't go online to enjoy it because no matter what I say, I like it too much for "a bad movie" or I'm "too supportive of something harmful" although I still see people buying Harry Potter merchandise in the Barnes and Noble and I'd argue JK Rowling is an actively bigoted individual who's words and paychecks actively harm marginalized communities, unlike Cameron who despite his bumbling is trying his best and actually learning and doing better with the new content he puts out.

People also say things like, "You only like it cause you're white, no POC people like Avatar." which is blatantly untrue, I've seen native people who like it, black people who like it, I have black friends who like it, I know a black cosplayer who cosplays from it. In fact, I know more poc who cosplay from it than white people. Everyone is entitled to their opinion of the film, and should be allowed to interact with it without getting harassed. It's just exhausting to like it, so people don't say they do.

I'm tired of even the things that should be praised about the new film being used as a way to tear it down. Cameron said in an interview that he "likes Captain Marvel and Wonder Woman as characters but they're not mom's" when asked why he chose to make Neytiri a mother. Neytiri's motherhood doesn't detract from her warrior-ness, she's still a badass bitch and I think that's the point that this person on tiktok clearly missed. He wasn't saying you need women to be moms to be heros, but how many warrior women who are also mothers can you think of off the top of your head? I can't think of any. The choice to make Neytiri a badass mom wasn't to detract from single or childless female characters but to provide even more diversity in the kinds of strong female characters out there. I loved that 1/2 the cast of that movie was women, just as I loved Neytiri in the first film.

In conclusion, can we please stop making Avatar fans lives hell on the internet. I do my own research about how it is and isn't problematic and make my own decisions, I don't need strangers to yell at me. I just want to enjoy my silly ecoscifi movie about blue aliens. I'm aware of its issues and I do my best to raise awareness of the issues facing real natives, to engage with real native stories and voices and support their protests, legal persuits, tribal sovereignty, land back etc, and be the best ally I can be, but I'm not going to boycot this movie because it does some problematic stuff, or because it has an unoriginal plot, if I did that I could never watch another marvel movie again (and yes they're just as bad if you dig, look at the early ones especially) I'm so sick of the insane amount of factually unsupported hate this movie gets and of having to deal with it. I'm tired, I just want to enjoy my movie which is no worse than any other white backed and driven Hollywood blockbuster.

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar 2009 #james cameron #avatar james cameron

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cecilysass · 2 months

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Shine On (8/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 8: is William okay

Farrs Corner, Virginia February 22, 2015 5:00 pm

The trip back to Mulder’s house is superficially quiet. There is the hum of the engine and a few polite words from the two adults in the front seat, who also occasionally treat him to concerned looks. But of course it isn’t really quiet for Jackson.

Scully’s thoughts and feelings are like some mixture of a thunderstorm and an orchestra in his brain, some pieces discordant and frightening, some beautiful, some just nonsensical, almost all overwhelming.

Sometimes he looks out the window and tries to limit all of the input down to only words, to just the part that is language. That seems more manageable, but it never entirely works. What emanates from her is never purely words. It’s always interrupted by jarring pops of some sharp emotion.

—maybe a neurological impact, which is something we should have him examined for oh god why didn’t I when he was a baby? I should have done it then, maybe I could have prevented something—maybe he can hear this, think about something else—so easy to depend on Mulder, too easy, so much his old self, looks so good, so happy, is he frustrated with how I am acting? just so obvious I’m such a fucking mess—William, back then I was such a selfish coward, oh no God think of his little baby face, his sweet baby smell, how could I, why did I, I should have—

He can’t stand it. He can’t stand listening to such a steady current of pain.

As they come into Mulder’s house again, Scully looks pale and withdrawn. She sinks down on the couch, wrapping her arms around herself and leaning her head back. Jackson can’t help but think of the last time he saw them both here, at this house, when Mulder and Scully were fighting two days ago. She seems so different now, like she belongs here. Like it’s her house, too.

He knows from both of their memories—and from what Mulder has said—that it was hers, that she lived here, too, for several years. That they had been together until relatively recently. Nothing either one of them has thought or felt really explains why they’re not together any more.

Mulder has carried in a square cardboard box with the bakery logo that Jackson knows is a birthday cake. Somehow, Scully hasn’t noticed it at all; she’s just so completely distracted. Mulder’s gone to set the box down in the kitchen. He calls out to them.

“Either of you want something to drink?”

Jackson and Scully, both on the couch, look up simultaneously. “No, thank you,” Scully says. Jackson shakes his head.

It doesn’t feel as bad as it did, right now. He still definitely feels it, the waves of feeling from her, but he thinks she must have calmed down. Or that she is making a conscious effort to quiet her mind and heart.

He’s still wondering if he can go hide in the guest room upstairs, discreetly trying to get as far away from her as he can, when her phone begins to buzz. She reaches into her pocket with a confused expression, as though she forgot she owned a phone. She lifts it to her ear.

“Hello?” she says. “Marco, hi.” She stands, walking away from the couch to a corner of the room, lowering her voice. “What? Why? What’s going on?”

Mulder walks back towards the couch, a glass of water in his hand, and Jackson doesn’t miss how his eyes sharply fix on her as he sits.

Marco? The single word from Mulder’s mind plummets through Jackson’s shine, weighted down with worry. Marco.

“What?” Scully breathes into the phone. Through her, Jackson’s shine receives a flood of images of a fancy house all … messed up, torn apart, drawers pulled out of dressers, papers scattered across the floor, windows smashed. “Oh my god.”

Mulder sits up straighter on the couch, his expression now one of concern.

“Yes, that’s—yes, that’s the thing to do,” Scully says quietly. Her eyes meet Mulder’s across the room for a moment, and then she looks away again. “Thank you for helping, Marco. And for letting me know.”

There is another beat while she listens. “No,” she says, and Jackson feels her conflict. “I don’t think I’ll go back tonight. I’ll stay here. At … a friend’s.”

Mulder stirs restlessly on the couch, crossing and uncrossing his leg, and even without focusing on him, Jackson picks up fragments of thoughts coming through from him: anxious, aching, wondering.

“Yes,” Scully answers on the phone. “Thank you. I’ll check in tomorrow. I really appreciate all of this.” She begins to walk back towards the couch. “Goodbye, Marco.”

Jackson and Mulder watch her as she steps over Mulder’s legs and sits wearily between the two of them on the couch, rubbing her temples. For a moment she doesn’t speak.

“You and I need to do a check of the grounds around the house,” she says to Mulder, sounding tired. “Are your security systems still up and running?”

“I turned them back on the night he got here,” he says. “Why? What happened?”

“My house has been ransacked,” she says. “It sounds like… someone was looking for something. Maybe information. Which means…”

“Someone knows he came to find us,” Mulder answers. “Probably someone is looking for him. And if they’re at your place, they’re probably eventually here, if not already.”

He stands up right away, reaching towards the spot in his jacket where Jackson already knows he conceals a gun.

“Do you have another weapon?” Scully asks. “I’d rather be armed if we’re going to walk the perimeter.”

“Yeah,” Mulder says, nodding. “Of course.”

Jackson watches them in awe as they get prepared, these dangerous former FBI agent biological parents of his. It’s hard not to feel a little impressed, although he’s also nervous.

He’s surprised by Scully’s feelings, and Mulder’s too, because they aren’t nervous. Not about this, anyway. For them, this is just something that needs to be done. His shine detects that hard, hot quality in Scully again. Inside she is glowing like a poker in a fireplace.

“Is your … house okay, Scully? All your stuff?” Jackson asks her before he can stop himself.

Scully had been loading a gun of Mulder’s, but she looks over at Jackson. Her eyes widen at his question, and he feels something lighter, something airy enter her.

“Yes,” she says quickly. “I mean, it will be. It’s a mess. Marco—my friend—he says he’ll call the police and straighten up a little for me.”

“That’s nice of him,” Mulder says blandly, turning his back to her as if to check out the window.

“It is,” she says absently. Her forehead wrinkles. “But I don’t think I should go back there tonight, in case it’s under surveillance. I assume I can stay here, Mulder?”

Jackson snorts, and both Mulder and Scully look at him, startled. He can’t explain the joke, which is obvious to him but apparently not to either of them. Of course she can stay here. Doesn’t she see that Mulder would have her stay here all the time, forever? It doesn’t seem like you would really need a shine to see that.

“Yeah,” Mulder says, his eyes cutting sideways at Jackson a moment. “Sure, no problem. As long as you need.”

Her gun now loaded, Scully looks down at her attire and bites her bottom lip.

“Do you think I could maybe … borrow some clothes before we go outside? This is an expensive sweater.” She grimaces as she looks at it, and Jackson’s shine takes in a series of images he doesn’t entirely understand: shoes with broken heels, torn dress pants, a blazer with a gaping bite out of it. Memories, he assumes.

Mulder nods, shrugging. “You know where they are.”

She nods, and turns to go up the stairs. Mulder sits back on the couch, examining his own weapon in melancholy silence. His mind is a particularly dark and twisty path, but Jackson can guess what he’s thinking about. He honestly feels sorry for him.

“Marco is her neighbor,” Jackson informs him impulsively.

Mulder looks up at him, his eyebrows raised.

“They, like, watch each other’s houses when they go on trips. She isn’t … in a relationship with him or anything like that. Marco’s married to a man named Joe. I could shine her memories and it was all, like, watering plants and small talk.”

“Oh.” Mulder nods, looking embarrassed. “Right. Yeah.” He bites his lip. “You don’t happen to see if there is someone in particular that she’s seeing…” He stops himself, shaking his head. “Never mind, fuck, Jackson.” He lets out a frustrated breath. “I’m way out of line.”

Jackson just watches him curiously, thinking of his friend Louis and his doomed crushes on girls. This isn’t the same thing, really, but Mulder isn’t as different from Louis as he might have thought. For such an old guy and for someone who was basically married to her, he doesn’t seem to know anything at all.

To his surprise, it’s almost like Mulder knows what he’s thinking, because he meets his eyes and smiles shame-facedly. “I guess I seem pretty hopeless.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, why aren’t you guys together anymore?” Jackson asks. “Why did you break up?”

“You can’t see that in her mind?”

“Not really,” Jackson says.

Mulder sighs heavily. “It’s complicated,” he says. “But I think part of it is that … sometimes I can be a tough person to love.”

Jackson thinks about that, tries to make it fit with what he has seen. “I don’t know,” he says. “That doesn’t really seem right.”

Mulder’s eyes meet his just as Scully thumps down the stairs, wearing an enormous hooded sweatshirt that says “Martha’s Vineyard” on it and some rolled up sweatpants.

“All right,” she says briskly. “Let’s do this.”

Mulder stands, nodding his agreement.

“You stay inside, right here on the couch, okay?” Scully tells Jackson. “Don’t move near the windows.”

Just in case of gun fire, she thinks. But don’t want to scare him.

Jackson lifts his eyebrows. “Got it,” he says. “I’ll lay low.”

It’s not until they walk out the door that Jackson realizes that he could have told them whether there was anyone else on the grounds. His shine can get a read on who is around, or at least whether someone is around and where they are. And right now, the only minds he senses nearby are Mulder’s and Scully’s, both of them popping and crackling with feelings and thoughts.

He stretches out on the couch, lying down and closing his eyes. He listens for any sounds outside. He can’t hear much with his ears. It’s quiet here at Mulder’s house.

In Mulder’s kitchen there’s the sound of a clock ticking.

Then a sharp slice of anguish. Of pulsing anxiety.

Mulder. Oh Mulder, no.

Jackson springs up on the couch, his body rigid.

There is the sound of a gunshot. Then another.

His heart pounding, he pushes out his shine desperately around him, feeling for either of them, confirming they are still there.

Is he okay is he okay is Mulder okay

Scully. Thank God.

Jackson wraps his arms around himself and rocks back and forth on the couch. They’re both alive, anyway. He feels overwhelmed with relief, and he’s not sure whether it’s coming from him or them.

William William William is William okay

Could anyone have gone inside? I didn’t see anyone. Is he okay? Is Jackson okay?

It’s like they’re both tugging on him, pulling hard on his shine to come towards them. Jackson doesn’t think. He just acts. He runs to the door and throws it open, and he sees them both, maybe thirty feet away, guns extended. They are staring back at him in the door.

“Stay inside, Jackson,” calls Mulder urgently. “Don’t come out.”

Jackson doesn’t listen. He runs outside, feeling an overpowering urge to be near them up close.

“Jackson, don’t,” Scully repeats.

“Who was it?” Jackson asks breathlessly, reaching them. “Who did you shoot at? What did they want?”

“A man,” Mulder says grimly, grabbing his arm. “And I’m not sure. Let’s go inside.”

Scully is looking all around them, her eyes scanning the area, her weapon still raised. “I don’t understand, Mulder. I know I hit him.”

Mulder’s jaw is set. “Yeah,” he says. “I think we’re lucky we weren’t in closer proximity, or his blood might have made us sick.”

Scully’s head snaps towards him. I didn’t think there were any left. I thought they had been killed off years ago.

“Inside,” repeats Mulder. “We need to get him back inside, Scully. Now.”

Scully nods her agreement. They take hold of each of Jackson’s arms and practically lift him off his feet into the house. Mulder turns to lock the door, then immediately crosses to his desk to start going through a drawer.

“Are you okay, Mulder?” Scully watches him, her body swaying slightly back and forth. Jackson can still feel terror pulsing off of her in tiny waves. For a moment there, he knows she’d really thought Mulder could be in danger. He felt her desperation. It’s exhausting to Jackson, the intensity of her emotions. He stumbles back over to the couch and sits down.

“Yeah,” Mulder says. He produces what he was looking for in the drawer, a tool shaped like a sharp spike. “I was looking for this. We may need it.”

“I thought the shapeshifters were long gone,” Scully says. “You think that’s what he was? Why?”

“Shapeshifters?” Jackson asks. “For real?”

“All I know is that you didn’t kill him,” Mulder answers Scully. “Despite a direct hit. And I thought … I thought I saw something green where your bullet hit.”

“If they’re still around, then who else is?” Scully asks in a tense voice. “Who’s coming after him?”

Mulder and Scully look at one another. Jackson’s eyes bounce back and forth between them. “I couldn’t sense him, with my shine,” he comments. “He was invisible to me.”

That gets their attention; both of their heads swivel to look at him. “Oh yeah?” Mulder says. “And that’s not something that usually happens?”

“No,” Jackson says. “It’s not.”

Scully’s eyes examine him, and Jackson again is hit by what he’s coming to consider her signature combination: fear and love, white hot steel.

“We should call Skinner,” she says in a quiet voice. She’s looking at Jackson but speaking to Mulder. “We need the X-files. We need to do whatever it takes to get the X-files back.”

***

Mulder and Scully sit at Mulder’s dining room table and talk on the phone to this man Skinner for a long time, maybe thirty minutes. He’s their friend, Jackson gathers, but also their former boss. And he must be someone they trust, because they tell him more than he would think they would, although not everything.

Jackson reclines on the couch for a while and listens, wondering if anyone will remember they need to eat dinner. He thinks of his house back home, of the regular meals, of his mom and dad across the table and their cheerful conversation about topics like the new Wal-Mart and who was going to win the World Series and how Jackson’s grades were. He wonders if these biological parents ever have normal conversations. If they ever do normal things like have Taco Tuesday.

Dinner seems unlikely to happen any time soon, so he decides to go up to the guest room. He could use a little privacy.

He kind of likes this guest room—the room that was supposed to be his, he reminds himself uneasily as he walks inside again.

It’s a small room with one window, a dresser, a bookshelf full of Mulder’s random books, and a single bed with a crisp navy and white patchwork quilt. The bed is messy—Jackson didn’t make it this morning. There is a book (Ghost Stories of Virginia) sitting on the pillow with a corner folded down to mark his place. Jackson picks it up again, flops down on the bed, and starts to read.

He hasn’t read for very long when he has the distinct sensation of somebody nudging at his mind. Like a poke at his shine.

It’s the weirdest feeling.

He lays the book down on his chest and blinks, trying to open his shine up to see what’s out there.

Tomorrow morning. Seven o’clock. Go out to the grove of trees behind the farm.

Jackson sucks in a breath. He can hear Rose’s voice, every word as clear as if she is speaking in the same room.

Make sure you aren’t followed. We can talk then.

Imperceptibly, Jackson nods his head, even though he knows she probably can’t see. His heart is thumping again.

She’s going to talk to him again. She’s going to help. He feels almost shaky with relief.

Almost without thinking he lets his shine drift and linger for a moment on the anxious, busy energy between Mulder and Scully downstairs. On their intense focus. On their surprising, desperate need to protect him.

***

#xfiles fanfic #the x files #x files fanfic #fox mulder #dana scully #x files #xf fanfic #msr #jackson van de kamp #x files revival

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aziraphales-library · 7 months

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Hello! Do you happen to know any fics where it’s ‘enemies to lovers’ but it’s really more like Crowley irritates Aziraphale and Aziraphale thinks they hate each other?

For example - Matching Speed by crepesandoysters on Ao3, where Crowley sort of antagonizes Aziraphale?

Thank you for all you do!!

Hi! Here are some light-hearted bickering annoyed enemies-to-lovers fics for you...

Thistlewood Lane by Caedmon (T)

The house next door to Aziraphale's, on Thistlewood Lane, has been empty for quite a while. He hopes a nice young family is going to move into it, or someone he can get along with. But his hopes are dashed when someone comes tearing down his quiet residential street at a million miles an hour blaring obnoxious music. Aziraphale marches over to give his rude new neighbor a piece of his mind, and is a little unsettled to find that he's quite attractive. But that doesn't salvage the situation, the two of them end up getting off on the complete wrong foot, and a little neighborhood rivalry begins. Until it ends.

it had to be you by curtaincall (M)

“What I’m saying,” said Aziraphale, looking fixedly ahead, “and please don’t take this as a personal insult in any way, is that an angel and a demon can’t be friends.” “Why not?” “Because,” said Aziraphale, firmly. “It’s against the order of things. You’re supposed to tempt. I’m supposed to thwart. We can’t go being friends.” * A canon-divergent AU inspired by When Harry Met Sally.

Press L in the Chat (for Love) by Phoenix_Soar & Djapchan (E) (+ podfic!)

Bickering fan-content creators Aziraphale and Crowley only have three things in common — they are both avid fans of a new revolutionary TV series about pirates, they are popular for their fantastic fanfiction and fanart… and they are members of the same discord server. Neither of them likes the other, but across the chaotic virtual world of a discord chatroom, who knows what can happen when these two unlikely fans are paired up for an exciting collaboration? Us. We know ;)

Planes, Trains & the Apocalypse by walking_contradiction42 (T)

Crowley only wanted to get home for Christmas. Unfortunately, a sudden onset of winter thwarts his plans. Making his way down to Tadfield by the most obscure means of transportation he is forced to stick with his very annoying seat mate Aziraphale. Only someone up there (or down there, or wherever it is that things are nowadays) seems to have it in for him, because trouble seems to be waiting for them around every corner. Or the Planes, Trains & Automobiles AU all have been waiting for

A Bit of Crumpet by Fyre (T)

With a handsome, successful fiance and a respectable home in Manhattan, Aziraphale Fell thought his life was more than adequate. He never expected to be jilted in a long-distance telephone call and so he sets out for England to find out exactly what's going on and gets a lot more than he bargained for. French Kiss AU

Fire, Bridges, and other Sensible Idioms by KiaraMGrey (E)

To: The person who stopped the washer in the middle of my wash cycle and took my clothes out just to wash your own… You are an arsehole! Unfortunately for you, so am I. You can find your wet clothes frozen outside in the snow. If you have any problems with this, come see me in 301. or Aziraphale has a new neighbor, and they certainly don't start off on the right foot.

And the one you mentioned...

Matching Speed by crepesandoysters (T)

Aziraphale isn't expecting much from the group ski trip he's been roped into, but he's determined to make the best of it. That is, until he meets Anthony Crowley — who makes a show of skiing like a daredevil — and it's irritation at first sight. For the most part...

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #enemies to lovers #bickering #mod d

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mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess · 27 days

Text

Promise

We will pretend it hasn't been 3 weeks since I made this post asking for writing ideas.

Anyway, @wangxian-stan here's the idea you suggested, I hope you like it and sorry for the delay!

Here's the prompt:

It is so quiet in the jingshi that, if Lan Wangji tried, he would even be able to hear the sizzle of wax melting under the gentle flames of the candle wicks. The silence rings in his ears – and not even the sounds of the night outside are doing much to fill it.

It’s unnerving. Such undisturbed silence reminds him of times he would rather forget. Of loneliness, pain and the discordant notes of songs ending in tears, the bitter taste of alcohol and regret.

The dull sting of his wounds being cleaned adds on to that – especially since the claw marks on his back cross over the faded scars of the discipline whip. It feels almost uncanny, some kind of déjà vu – except it is not a healer or his brother that is helping clean and bandage his wounds, but his husband.

However, for all the teasing and talking Wei Wuxian does, the energy and the liveliness that Lan Wangji loves him for – he is being unsettlingly quiet as well. He has been this way ever since Lan Wangji returned from his night hunt with the back of his robes torn into, red painting the edges. The injuries do look worse than they feel and Lan Wangji made sure to tell his husband this much from the start – but Wei Wuxian seemed a bit too shaken by the sight to really listen, his expression darkening and his voice waning until he decided not to speak anymore at all.

And so, he is now tending to Lan Wangji’s wounds, with the gentleness and care of someone that has known far too much pain, his fingertips trembling on the washcloth as he cleans the injured skin. The beast had hurt him not out of an oversight, but rather, as a choice – he had not thought much about it, intercepting the hit in place of Lan Jingyi more out of instinct than anything else. Whilst a hit like that would do little more than inconvenience him, someone as young as Jingyi could have been incapacitated by it for a long time – so it was a small price to pay, in hindsight.

But it does make Lan Wangji’s heart squeeze to see his beloved be so affected.

The ointment Wei Wuxian uses on him next smells of herbs and the faint scent of disinfectant – again, much too familiar. A very effective cure, developed by the Lan healers long ago, though unkind to the touch. It stings terribly being placed on an open wound, Lan Wangji knows it better than anyone.

Which is why he’s tried to keep his reaction contained, not wanting to worry his husband any more – yet a faint hiss does still leave his lips as Wei Wuxian applies some of the medicine to his wounds. His fingertips lift off the sensitive skin, and a gentle current of cool air blows over the sting to soothe it. The knowledge Wei Wuxian is so gentle moves Lan Wangji to finally speak.

“Wei Ying…”

The other makes a questioning noise, continuing to gently blow over the wound and alleviate the sting.

“It is alright. I feel fine.”

“It’s important to make sure you heal properly. Do you know how easy it is to get an infection from something like this? Open wounds must be treated seriously even if they’re not bad.”

Lan Wangji feels like those words are not Wei Wuxian’s own, rather repeating what he himself has heard a long time ago, a lifetime ago, from somebody that had been too good at her craft to die the way that she had.

“You need to be more careful.” Wei Wuxian adds, the tone of his voice softer, worried and loving all the same.

“I am.” Lan Wangji replies, and he’s being truthful in this simple, confident reply. He is careful, calculated and precise – but not when it comes to protecting the people he cares about. There is no time for him to weigh his options when danger befalls somebody he considers part of his family, and he knows Wei Wuxian cannot blame him for it – because he does the same.

Wei Wuxian carefully covers the wounds in bandages, his touch light. “You know what I mean. You got off easy now, but what if it won’t be like this next time?”

Lan Wangji sighs, fondly, warmth blooming in his chest at his husband’s worry. “Wei Ying…”

“I know, you’re the great, peerless, undefeated Hanguang-Jun…” he smiles as he says it, “…but you’re not immortal.”

“Not yet.”

That pulls a light chuckle out of Wei Wuxian, and it is the first time that night that the heaviness in the jingshi lifts. “Well, since you promised me forever, that means you have to make sure you get there in one piece.”

A smile tugs at the corners of Lan Wangji’s lips. “I will. I promise.”

He feels a soft pair of lips at the nape of his neck, Wei Wuxian’s lips whispering into his skin. “I’ll hold you to that.”

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #writing attempts #i loved writing this #and i realized how much i missed writing

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ash-arts-but-sinful · 7 months

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Bro how do u feel P would act w a shy lover,, like I love physical contact whether it’s sexual or not but I will not for the life of me initiate it, i get way too embarassed 😭 I love what everyone writes abt P but I can never fully imagine it happening bc I’m not one to take charge at all 💔💔💔 he’s so pretty I love him holy shit!!!

Also how have u been doing?? :3 I’m so excited for the DLC and sequel I can’t wait for more Pino content

I’m working real hard on my AU notes, art, and the discord stuff which is why I’ve been so quiet here, sorry about that! But I am SO EXCITED FOR THE DLC I WANT MORE OF MY BOY I’M ON MY KNEES MAN I’M AAAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH- because of the art work I’m wondering if we’ll be eaten by a whale or something cause that a lot of ships???

Yes, I am in pretty much the same boat as you anon so I’ll try to do us both Justice 🫡

Despite being with him for a while you can’t help your shy nature, especially when it comes to him. Sure, when he gets back from his excursions in Krat you’ll fret over him, make sure he’s okay and unharmed, but no matter how much you want to sweep him into your arms you just can’t do it.

You’ve confided in Sofia about it before and she, of course, suggested you just tell him. Everybody knew Pinocchio wasn’t the best with social cues, not yet anyway, but once he’s told what’s what he catches on fast. So, you listen to Sophia because, as ironic as it is, honesty is the best policy in this moment.

It’s easy to track him down, an embarassed apology spilling from your lips as you explain your problem. “I would love to give you affection, but the my shyness wins over too often to count.” He listens intently as he always does and you finish your rambling off with a hesitant, “Does that makes sense?”

He nods, you heave a sigh of relief.

From then on Pinocchio is there to initiate almost any form of affection, truly taking what you said to heart. It’s clear very fast that he’s either been asking Venigni for advice or he’s been reading through the romance section of the library because by the time he’s leaving again your hand is in his and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles as he gives his farewell. It leaves you red faced as you stutter out your own goodbye.

When he returns he doesn’t hesitate to sweep you into his arms, hugging you tightly and spinning you in a quick circle before placing you gently back down.

On more than one ocassion he’s snuck up behind you and wrapped you into a tight hug, pressing you firmly into chest and nuzzling his face into your hair. He’s also managed to scare the life out of you when he does it which always results in apologetic butterfly kisses.

Speaking of kisses, everytime Pinocchio kisses you it never fails to leave you flustered. On the brightside, it’s never a surprised so you’re always fully prepared when his cool lips gently press to yours. The cherry on top? Everytime you part you can gaze into his beautiful blue eyes as looks at you with all the love the world.

#hope this is okay I’ve been writing like I’m a game dev for the past months so I had to change writing styles #sfw #lies of p #pinocchio x reader #pinocchio #anon

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 19 days

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AITA for yelling at my friend over discord?

@aita-throwary-blogggg1456789 for finding later

so. um. i realise i come across as massively assholey here but idk man. this might just be teenage angst/drama

basically i (16FTM) have this friend. lets call him O (16M) we met last year since i showed him around the school on his first day. we sort of clicked and became friends.

at the time i was questioning my gender identity and was talking to a couple professionals about possible mental health issues and disabilites i was suspected to have, and when i talked to O about it he was super supportive. when i came out as enby he accepted me, and when i eventually came out as trans he accepted me then too. i told him about the adhd and the anxiety and the depression, and he was cool with all of that.

the main problem starts at the beginning of the new academic year. i'd introduced him to a really close knit friend group of mine, and he also clicked there. i was pretty happy about it, before he started saying some um... iffy things. i had recently found out my parents were severly abusive and i had been conditioned to believe that it was normal. so i'd talked to my friend group about it and they had all been really supportive. except for O. he'd conveniently kept quiet whenever i'd start talking about it. recently i asked him (quite nicely i'd like to add) why, and he said he doesn't have the full story, and that i was probably exagurating. obviously i was hurt, since it took a long time for me to finally talk about this shit, but i brushed it off since he had a relativley smooth life and didn't really know.

later i was diagonsed with osdd, and i told my friends. O admitted to me he thought i was faking it for attention, since he had become close with another person in the friend group T (16FTM). again i was deeply hurt, and didnt talk to him for a couple months. afterwards i started talking to him again, but he kept making jokes at my expense

one night i was highly emotional after a whole thing which led to me to cry for a couple hours. he made yet another joke at my expense in the discord gc and i just snapped. i went into dms and yelled at him for a paragraph and then some. he hasn't replied or even talked to me and i'm scared i did the wrong thing and overreacted

i feel really bad about it but my firend told me i wasnt the asshole... but am i?

so tumblr, aita??

(if this posted again bc of tumblr being wierd im sorry)

#aita #am i the asshole

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throwaway-yandere · 6 months

Text

I want to be honest (no this has nothing to do with fics lmao youll get it as scheduled)

This post is an explanation as to why I consider myself as "retired". I know I've said it's because of studies, but that'll be 1/3 of the truth. I want to talk about the true three real reasons why, and I'll do my best to be straight to the point. This isn't a cry for help (I swear to the heavens it is NOT). This is just to clear out assumptions.

Here's the other two reasons:

Grief & Mental Health

Writing itself & interactions

Grief & Mental Health:

I'll pour my heart out, so I'm sorry if it's long. As I said, I'll be straight to the point, so: my grandfather around the first week of June. I remember how I received the news so vividly. I was listening to Two Birds while washing the dishes at 12 AM. My mom went down the stairs with my father, crying as they tell me the news that he's gone. We drove half an hour to the hospital where I get to pat his head one last time. I remember mindlessly wandering the hospital halls— I remember mindlessly using the free alcohol attached to a wall. I remember breaking down as I realized I just cleansed away the hand that last had contact with him. I remember every detail, from the ride home where I messaged my good college friend to tell her that she needs to be a good nurse because the public healthcare system in the country is awful. I remember silently hating everyone and everything. I remember thinking about how cruel it was that life took away the one relative who genuinely cared about me and I was sure was related to me by blood. I remember thinking how much I'm distant to everyone else on my mother's side except him. I remember feeling so empty. I remember not sleeping for two days straight.

But let's back track for a bit. Before his death, I did have one final conversation with him. He was sedated and tubed miserably. Deep down, I knew his time was coming. So, I just made jokes about how grandma was growing senile and mistook me for a nurse for ten whole minutes. Then, I thanked him for everything he's done, and told him I'll become an engineer. Just like him.

And now here I am, dorming 3 hours away from home. I dormed because I had nearly decided my life meant nothing after lack of sleep through daily commutes and workloads. But I am lonely and unwell. I don't know what I want in life. I don't know what I actually want to be, but I already shifted courses as a chemical engineering student. I was so stressed to the point I've accidentally cried to my chem professor in a phone call. I don't know what I'm doing with my scholarship and education if it's for no one. And I am scared that I'm draining my parents' already limited resource for nothing. That I'm wasting the scholarship my country had given me nothing. That I am wasting my people's taxes for nothing.

It was only when another friend told me that I seem to live my life based on other's decisions and opinions did I notice just why I'm incredibly miserable.

I know I don't have dreams for myself. And even if I did, how the hell will writing and drawing feed me in the future when the industry in this 3rd world country is absolute garbage?

I guess Asians really do the things they hate so they can get what they love. Okay, I'll stop making jokes.

I miss my long-time friends, Phitre and Frost. I also miss my old blockmates when I was a BSEd-Math student. I am too used to eating alone, studying alone, walking alone. I am too used to being an outsider. But I'm not used to silence. I'm not too used to hearing actual silence.

All I have is Discord and Messenger.

And even then, it's quiet.

Writing itself & Interactions

I love writing and drawing. I just hate posting it at this point, which is why I made another account that's purely interaction-based.

I love writing a lot— my happiness is turning shtposts into something terrifying. I don't like writing romances, I like the thrill instead. I like laughing like I'm Hubert from FE:TH after thinking of an evil plot twist.

But I hate posting it. Because I know, no matter how much effort I put it, it's not enough. No matter how long it is— no matter if you learned basic coding for it— drew art— made interactive google forms— it's just not enough. I literally made two long separate fics with different endings depending on your choices and it just performs less on something I didn't actually put anything on.

Lord.

Lord I hate Creative Differences for that. I finally understood why bands hate their hit songs because of that lol.

Don't comment something like "oh, you content creators are just whining—" I am whining. Why? Because we don't treat artists and writers like they're human enough. Like we're just uploading content and that we don't want to hear what the others have to say. I remember there was one ask telling me how they're gonna miss traumatizing their friend— and I'm just sitting there wondering "why didn't YOU tell me their reactions? Why are you making me feel like I'm talking to a brick wall for 2k words and more?" It's not their fault. I am not mad at this anon. They've done nothing wrong, but lord do I hate feeling like this.

I could follow "part 2???" requests, finish all my drafts for the events. But I know. I know the chances of the person who requested them won't actually answer after all the effort.

[insert Berkut's "all that effort, what is it all for?!" voice line from FE:Echoes here to lighten the mood]

But that aside.

It's just silence. Just notes, when I feel like comments are what matters more. I'm used to being alone, but I really hate silence. I hate it so much. That's why I'm always so grateful to the people who do interact often, and don't say that's not true because I can prove it. You can see me make content just for them, dedicate fics, art, everything. I love them, I love the "noise".

I know we all have lives, I know we're all busy, I know. I respect your time, I respect you.

And I think it's just time I respect myself as well.

So that's why I'm retired. No pressure on events (idol and letters), no pressure on anything. I'm actually taking my time in End Of Year Blues. It's nice.

Edit: I forgot to mention

My father hates that I write. He constantly tells me to stop it, to prioritize my academics, when writing is my only way of coping.

So.

Haha, what the hell do I even do anymore, right?

#tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: grieving #astrilde-talks #tw: mental health

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