#//thank you for granting me the chance to word vomit about them

[etheries1015]

Hello! I love the way you write! Would I be able to request the reactions of some of the twst boys to MC telling them they snore (whether it's true or not)? I think Malleus, Riddle, and Azul would have fun reactions, but anyone you feel like writing would be great! Thank you!

Thank you for the compliment heuheu... much appreciated <3

When they snore

Featuring: Malleus, Riddle, Azul, Rook, Vil

General warnings: Gender neutral reader

Malleus

The moment you told him he snores, he was concerned. Was he troubling you with his sleeping habits? Were you unhappy sleeping with the fae because of this, to the point where it was noticeable? The moment the words left your mouth, he began to word vomit.

"Is that an issue? Is my snoring preventing you from getting a night of good rest? I...Suppose I could sleep elsewhere if it will grant you a full night of sleep.." Que him going down a rabbit hole of solutions, you couldn't get a single word in. Eventually, it came time for classes to begin, to which you hadn't the chance to explain your statement to the panicked fae.

When night fell and it was time for bed, his tail swayed sadly as he stood in the doorway. "I suppose I shall sleep out here, my love," He said, as lightning of vibrant green flashed outside your window.

As he turned his back and began to sulk away, you quickly ran up behind him with a bear hug.

"Malleus, would you stop and listen to me for a second?" You laughed, "When I said you snore, I was going to tell you it was cute. Like an animal snoring lightly. You seem so at peace curled up in bed with your light snoring..."

The lightning went away as fast at it had came, and you felt his tail wrap around your waist as he turned to face you, arms pulling you close.

"Ah...ahem. I apologize for my unbecoming behavior before, then. I...was rather saddened at the thought I caused my beloved to lose well-needed sleep."

He's never been called cute before, but he's also never slept in the same bed with another person. So I suppose there's a first for everything <3

Riddle

Snores like a cat. The first time you had slept in the same room, the first thing you noticed was his high-pitched yet soft snores that were short and far between.

The morning you woke up, the first thing you said was; "Did you know you snore?" Riddle blinks at you a couple times before hitting you with his annoyed face (you know the one.)

"Snoring is perfectly normal," He told you, "It's caused by the rattling and vibration of tissues-"

You got a lecture on the scientific reasoning behind snoring. When he finished defending the nature of his sleeping habits, you finally hit him with the "You snore like a little cat! It's cute!"

His face turns as red as his hair, as always when he becomes flustered.

"W-w-wha- a cat?! How dare you compare me to a cat! I..I am not a cat..."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything.." You seemed pretty guilty about upsetting him, he muttered "I suppose I'll let it go..." and moved on.

All in all, as long as you aren't losing sleep because of him, he will forgive you for your previous teasing statements. However, from that day forward, you have noticed his ears take a rosy hue with shy glances your way before he heads to bed...

Azul

"Did you know you snore? Pretty loud, too. Is that like...a merman thing?"

His face turns red IMMEDIATELY. He was so embarrassed. The first time he allows someone to be near him in such a vulnerable state, and he blows it by being a snorer. A loud one, at that.

"Snoring is not common for merfolk! Being under the sea, most don't struggle with such a thing...but I would say being above water, the air that goes through my soft palate-"

Great. Another scientific review on snoring. Only Azul, on the other hand, cannot seem to keep eye contact with you.

"Please don't tell anyone. You must sign on it!"

You spent an hour comforting poor Azul, telling him it's nothing to be ashamed of, and giving him lots of hugs and cuddles. But he still continues to insist you sign a NDA to the information you had uncovered.

He was incredibly shy about having you sleep with him again, yet you managed to convince him. Azul is much more insecure than you may think about his image, however, you always seem to break his walls down.

Although, you did notice he began to wear nose strips at night, with books on sleeping habits and potions to help with snoring...old habits truly die hard.

Give him extra cuddles for the existential crisis you had instilled in your poor octo boyfriend <3

Rook

Oh boy. You had no choice but to tell him. He snores like your average forty-year-old dad. You genuinely lose sleep over it, even waking him up

"Rook, Rook. Honey. Please. I can't sleep. Your snoring is just too much, I'm sorry."

He actually finds it kind of amusing? For some reason? He asks you excitedly to tell him more about the things he does when he's sleeping.

He didn't really take you too seriously until he noticed the physical wear and tear. The bags under your eyes...

"Mon Cheri! Your eyes...have you not been sleeping well?"

"Rook. Your snoring. It's horrendous. Please."

He spends an hour doing EVERYTHING under the sun to help his snoring, for your sake! Moving around how his bed is set up, mouth exercises, the way he sleeps...He refuses to use strips, he doesn't like how they feel, and says it prevents his senses from being at their 100%.

He finds a way to help alleviate it, and you end up investing in some sleep time headphones. You make it work, because dealing with his sleeping habits is better than sleeping without him~

Vil

"Did you know you snore?"

He stares at you with his jaw open and his eyes wide. What...what do you mean he snores when he sleeps? Does he sleep with his mouth open? Does he look utterly ridiculous when he sleeps? All of these questions he bombards you with.

"Vil! Vil. I was kidding. I'm sorry. You sleep so quietly that I have to check if you're still alive sometimes. You're like a sleeping statue of perfection."

He was not amused. He almost had a heart attack and invested in the world's most expensive treatments.

Tackles you to the bed and ruffles up your hair, laughter ensuing at your silly little prank.

"Well, it's YOU who snores, potato. You're lucky I let you sleep here and not outside like a dog," He chuckles. He says this, yet you knew he loved you too much to go a single night without you by his side.

A link to my masterlist

[pininghermit]

A Villainous Attempt

Genre: romance+ suggestive themes

Pairing: Alucard x GN Vampire Reader

Summary: A splash of water wakes Alucard up. He jolts up from the daze blinking at the surroundings around him. Until his head is whipped to look at you.

AN: Warnings mate, this one is dark. Corruption and manipulation at its best. Reader exceling at girlboss, gatekeep, and gaslight (except its gender neutral). Also am I evil for liking this? Dividers by @moodboard-d, thanks ;)

"Pathetic, isn't it?" You circle the pitiable dhampir, nudging him over with the tip of your boot, only to discover a puddle of vomit beneath his face.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," you recoil at the filth that now soils your boot. "What good is all that power if you can't even meet my gaze?" You use his tattered shirt to clean your boot, a grimace contorting your features.

The entire venture seems like an enormous waste of time. "Alucard," you call out his name, hoping to shake him from his stupor.

"Son of Dracula!" You repeat, but the dhampir beneath your feet merely mumbles in response. It's clear he's deeply entrenched in his self-destructive spiral, nestled among empty liquor bottles.

A sudden splash of water startles Alucard awake. He jerks up, disoriented, his gaze darting around until it lands on you.

"Listen here, Son of Dracula, I don't have the luxury of waiting for your languishing," you declare with a withering glare, your tone dripping with disdain. You grasp his face firmly, hoping to convey your impatience. "Lying around here like a lost cause—do you truly believe some grand love will come to rescue you?"

As the echoes of your words hang in the air, Alucard, still groggy from his hangover, struggles to comprehend your message. You turn away from him, muttering to yourself with a mixture of disgust and resentment.

"How long will you linger in this desolation?" you ask, leaning back against the wall with folded arms. Alucard, still trapped in a haze, frowns as your words pierce through his fogged thoughts.

"How long will you grieve for those wretched humans? Let them trample all over you?" Your question elicits a deeper frown from the dhampir, hinting at a flicker of recognition within his befuddled mind.

"Look around you; you've reduced this once magnificent castle to ruins," you remark, your voice dripping with disdain as you survey the decaying grandeur. Dust clings to every corner, and your accusatory finger points at Alucard's disheveled appearance. "You've obliterated the legacy of our noble race for what? For this?" The contempt in your voice is unmistakable.

Years of restrained rage now surge within you, and a singular goal forms in your mind - to hurt him, as he has hurt you. "They abandoned you, these so-called friends. They bound you. They even took your mother's life," you sneer, your words stinging with a biting truth. "And yet, you continue to wallow in your pitiful state. Do you have no self-esteem left?"

Alucard's response is feeble, a faint whisper amidst the echoes of your tirade. "Why do you care?" he questions, the words barely audible.

Your scoff is dismissive. "Care? You mistake this for care?" You bend down to meet his gaze, your eyes piercing. "Don't for a second think that this is about care."

"I wouldn't dare," he replies sarcastically, a hint of his former self still present.

You choose not to engage with his quip. Instead, you disclose the reason behind your presence here. "I came here to repay a debt," you declare. Memories of Count Dracula's rescue flood your thoughts, a debt that has weighed on you for years. "Your father, Count Dracula, once saved my life, transforming me into a vampire, gifting me powers akin to a pureblood." You recall the pivotal moment when he plucked you from the brink of death and granted you the means to exact your revenge. "And now, it's my turn to return the favor. I may be late, but this is my only chance to settle my life debt."

Alucard, though still unsteady on his feet, attempts to distance himself. "Leave. I don't need saving from you," he hisses, taking a few shaky steps away from you.

However, your grip tightens on his arm, and you drag him back to the wall. "You no longer get to decide," you assert firmly. "You've wrought enough havoc to last an eternity." It's a grim resolve that propels you forward, and you realize that this is the only way to fulfill your debt.

You press him against the wall, delighting in the sight of his panic-stricken eyes. "Does this frighten you now? A mere touch leaves you gasping like a fool," you taunt. His body shivers as memories of the past torment him.

Alucard cannot stop the flashbacks of the past that haunt him. Yet, you entrap him relentlessly. He shivers as he feels them, it feels as if he is still bound. "You feel it, Alucard?" Your voice takes on a seductive tone as you caress his cheek mockingly. "The fear, the helplessness? Does it all come rushing back now?" Your words continue to whisper into his ear.

"Would you choose to remain as you are? Defenseless, useless, a pawn at the mercy of even a mere human?" Your fingers entwine in his hair, your nails grazing his scalp.

"I can release you from this," you purr, your venom-laden fangs grazing his skin, his heart pounding against your lips. "I can restore your power, make you whole again. An unbound vampire, free from the shackles of mortality." Your words are laced with a dangerous allure. "Is that what you desire, to inherit the power to fulfill your father's ambitions? To become a true successor to his dream?" You blend half-truths into your narrative.

Alucard's gaze loses focus, and his tears moisten your attire. "No," he whispers, his voice breaking. "My father never wished f-"

"What do you truly know?" you interject, your voice cutting. "You never allowed him the opportunity to share his truths with you." Gently, you wipe his tears away. "Alucard, your father would not have desired to see you beg for mercy like this. He yearned for you to rise as a ruler, to be the one bestowing mercy rather than begging for it." Your words, though sweet in tone, contain a lethal poison that escapes his notice.

"Listen to me, and permit me to transform you into a full-fledged vampire. Shed your vestiges of humanity, and reclaim your thirst for vengeance. Aid me in restoring your father's dream and his glory. Will you do that, for the memory of your father?" Alucard nods, and you smile, pressing the question again. "Will you do that?" Your hands move to comfort his trembling shoulders, attempting to soothe the turmoil you've initiated.

"I will… I will agree to everything you say," he concedes, his head bowing in submission. "Please, grant me the power." He weeps into your shoulder, and though you would normally recoil from such contact, today you endure it.

"Prepare yourself, Alucard, my dear," you murmur, nuzzling at his neck as you search for the taste of his blood, aware of the heritage that courses through his veins. You taste the remnants of his humanity before sinking your teeth into his flesh, flooding him with the venom that will strip away the remnants of his mortality.

Alucard's trembling hands clutch at your arms, his tears mixing with your attire. "Soon, Alucard, you shall possess the strength to conquer the world," you whisper seductively before returning to his neck, ensnaring him further into your lies.

[buglyknight]

1396) I wake up laughing

Ranting to Grant

For 30 minutes in the parking lot

Outside your apartment

He's stuck in hotels during the hurricane

All his money bleeding away

His clothes were sent home

He's been wearing the same shirt for five days

But I'm yelling

About how much I love you

It's the full-send mentality

If someone said they loved me that much. I'd at least give them a chance

Shoot your shot, man. I'll be here.

Do you think she really loves me?

Well, I don't know if I'd trust you- you're blind

But- based on what you said, I'd be shocked if she didn't

I hope she gives you a chance

Fuck- I'd give someone like that a chance

Oh, man. I hope she likes me.

Sara asks for the tea

When she notices I'm giddy

I was with a girl...

She asks me to talk about you

She's so amazing-

Her existence sings

She reduces me to a puddle

I love her more than anything else in the world

I want to make her smile and be happy-

I can't stop talking

But Sara is smiling

Is she a good influence on you?

She makes me want to be a better person

She makes every day glow

She's happy for me

I hope it works out

Your eyes meet mine

My body relaxes

As if my skeleton can finally

Set down it's weight

Slipping into your iris

Oh... wow...

You try to order dessert for me

But I don't get the message

You slap my cheeks until I'm spinning

Nothing glows as bright as you

Can I help carry yours?

I'm sorry I can't fill the empty

Can I help?

How heavy is it?

Like a belly full of vomit?

Like frog bones?

Like the vultures on my shoulders?

Like the Wyoming snow?

Like the word Never?

I can take it.

I promise.

I exit your apartment nearly skipping

I'm laughing when I leave my car

I can't help but stand still in admiration

Staring towards the road

Bouncing up and down

As I fall asleep

My gratitude overpowers me

I stare at the ceiling

For several minutes

I can't stop saying

Thank you

Again, and again

I wake up laughing

[a-vague-recollection]

Hello there. How's life treating you these days?

I was down a few days ago. The usual I suppose. But this chat I had with a friend two years ago came to mind and I decided to scroll those messages. Both of us, at the time, had a similar kind of hurting or pain. We were scratched by the same thorns, so to say. And despite us being 'just-good-friends' through out school, latched together to lament on this common pain. It certainly helped me. Just ranting stuff on her chat and she'd reply when she found the time to do so. And that's how it was. We did that for a few months. I would be the person to lift her up if she felt down and she'd be the one doing that when I'd feel like throwing myself into water. Don't get me wrong, I've never been suicidal, and I'm grateful for that. Just that sometimes one would want to bury themselves under water. Sometimes you crave for breathlessness because life's hitting you all at once and you feel like you don't have a chance so you kinda wish for it to come for you all together. All at once. So you may rise again and gasp for air. Breathe new again. And be granted a second chance. The whole thing was nice. To vomit feelings in its truest forms because she wouldn't cringe. She wouldn't think I was being emotional or immature. It was nice. I hope she felt that too. But reading those text messages then has not only made me reminisce the friendship I had but also allowed me to see myself in a different light. I was a bit more braver then. At 18, I was a bit more hopeful. I could let my tongue slip and say words of compassion and encouragement without the fear of being judged. I could venture out for long lost friends and start talking to them just because I wanted to talk. The thoughts of whether I'm the one who messages first or am I being a nuisance or do they think I'm kinda stupid or silly to want to build this friendship even though there's no reason for it now. We're no longer in the same class or school. Don't have mutual friends. Didn't really meet anywhere recently. Why is she forging this now? Those thoughts seemed to always escape me. I'm genuinely interested in this person, who cares about the rest anyways? But unfortunately, these thoughts never seem to leave me now. The 'what would they think?' has made me backspace a lot of paragraph messages on how I had a dream of them last night, or I saw this thing on TV and it reminded me of that time, or how I think they're wonderful for this reason, or how I'm just really happy to have had a friend like them, or how I'm randomly reminded of that one time they did this. O r how they weren't supposed to have done that. Anyways, as you can see I'm reminded of people a lot. I bet others are too. And it's sad that they will never know because I got scared. anxious. For no reason at all. So, now I'm kinda making it a point to sent these random reminders I have of these people, if I get bothered for more than 10 minutes. Yeah kinda long but I overthink so yeah. I would love to receive a random paragraph long text from any friend. Whether its about me or their day or anything at all wouldn't matter. The fact that they thought of me would be enough to warm my heart. So why not do the same? As that one Barbie song, "

Sometimes when you need a friend, just need to be a friend. Gotta spin the whole picture around You need to share your light, help someone learn to fly..." So there's that. And oh, about that chat I had with her. We haven't texted since last summer. Life's been good ig. I hope it has been for her as well. Thanks for reading till the end. Share you're thoughts please. I'd love to know. Yours Truly, X

[worldsmostdangerous-archived]

Mun, how do you feel about all the newly named revolutionaries? Personally I'm excited!

// Oh boy am I, buckle up because you’re in for a ride

I have been waiting for Oda to reveal the commanders (though I don’t think he revealed all of them, or if he did then it’s bad writing on his part again) for years. And mostly I am satisfied with the results - as far as I can be with Oda. I’ve never been terribly a fan of his character designing, mostly because of aesthetic reasons and I would have preferred more realistic and practical outfits. But knowing what we have seen of Oda’s capabilities of designing outfits, I think he could have done way worse with the commanders.

Now many people in the fandom are disgusted and annoyed by Belo Betty’s outfit design, and it’s understandable. But to me it’s a two way street. On one hand, Betty’s shirt being open is infuriating because we all know Oda is sexist, but on the other, dictating how women (or anyone, but we’re talking about women here) should dress whether it’s covering herself completely or wearing revealing clothing, is demeaning in itself (and also sexist). Only she can choose what she wears and how she wears it. It’s not anyone else’s business.

So I’m little annoyed but not entirely livid about it, therefore I can look past it. In other news, I like her hat a lot.

In general, looking at Betty’s personality and abilities, I’m quite pleased. She is very close to a commander oc of mine that I never brought to tumblr or used in any kind of way in many aspects (and it’s slightly scary??? Oda how???). Her devil fruit for example is almost precisely like my oc’s (she used just her voice/words instead of waving a flag) and her personality is pretty close to my oc’s also. Just that my oc would never call citizens she was about to help out ‘useless trash’ or ‘garbage’, or an over weight colleague a ‘potato giant’. When I first read the part in the chapter it didn’t settle quite in completely because I was trying to imagine Dragon promoting someone as ill-mannered like that to a commander’s rank and was having a hard time with it. However -

It is true that there is no point in helping people who have no will to fight for themselves, for their loved ones and freedom and rights at this point. The army doesn’t have unlimited resources. It makes sense to focus on parties with motivation to avoid direct contact with the Government and Cipher Poll, from a strategic point of view. The army won’t be of any use for changing the world or reach its goals if it throws its chances out before it’s their time.

That said revolutionaries are not heartless and completely set in the military mindset. They cannot be. They’re not after power or protection, they’re after ending inequality. So I can see Dragon allowing the higher ups (like the commanders themselves) help out citizens outside of their influence radar when they absolutely know for 100% certainty they will win because it is morally correct. It is comprehensible that people are afraid and incapable to fight back, but it’s also inconsiderate and thoughtless.

Therefore my Dragon would frown upon Betty’s vulgar language but agree with her actions and recognize her accomplishments.

Now while my oc was a high ranking commander (close to Dragon especially but not as close as Ivankov), it is blowing my mind how Betty appears to be the highest ranked (or at least most respected) out of the four commanders. Lindbergh is openly seen asking for Betty’s permission to handle the pirates, and later on Betty gives out orders to Lindbergh and Karasu which they execute without question. This is huge coming from Oda. And I’m much pleased with it!

Karasu’s design is basically Killer-Doffy/Roci-Kid fusion, which is 100% Oda-like. I’m not incredibly fascinated with it but it fits in so I’m okay with it. I do wonder if he was wearing the feather coat and beak mask before eating his devil fruit and if he did I’m curious about the reason. With Katakuri Oda has given us proof that sometimes when a character wears something that covers a part of their face (or completely) there is a very good reason for it. Now the all time question mark in this regard is Killer, but Karasu’s case makes me wonder even more. I like Karasu’s name especially tbh.

Regarding his devil fruit it is self-evident that he helped Sabo back to the revolutionaries’ ship at the end of Dressrosa. And from that scene we know that Karasu hasn’t had the devil fruit for very long - or he never reported receiving it. I would lean more to not having it for long because of loyalty reasons, personally. I really like him too (as I do like Betty a lot) but I think it’s mostly because of his reserved personality (but not shy!) and crows.

Morley is precious if I’m being quite honest. First of all, he’s a giant, and second of all he is not super duper lean and skinny and muscly like most characters (especially those who fight) are. That’s lots of points to Oda already. And he appears to be lgbt+ which! is! amazing! I am hesitant about his trident weapon though. 

Out of all the commanders Lindbergh is the one I have a bone to pick on with Oda. His name is good, but his character design is 100% already seen somewhere else before. He looks way too familiar but I cannot put my finger on it. He appears to be a mink and while I like that he’s some other race than human, I would have loved to see a fishman commander instead. It does make sense for the revolutionaries to have their own weapon developer but why is he a commander…? He should solely be in the equipment division. Plus while I can see how Karasu and Morley gained their commander rank, I cannot see any plausible way for Lindbergh. Nothing about his personality appears suitable for leadership. But since he’s canon I’m hoping someone picks him up as a muse and spends time to develop his character so that his rank is justified.

The weapons seem cool though.

All in all, I’m satisfied with the immense diversity in the commanders. Having more females (appearance wise, their real gender could be anything) would have been a nice thing to see but we cannot have everything. That said there is gender diversity, there is race diversity - all we lack is skin colour diversity. Which, I guess we have kinda with Lindbergh but you already know how I feel about him.

I love that Betty appears highly respected (even the citizens of Momoiro island were excited to see her), and I love that Oda is showing us the Revolutionary Army truly is accepting of and open to everyone. And I have long believed it goes without saying that the army would be divided into smaller armies across the world because they’re against the World Government, not a single country, so seeing that Oda believes the same is a feast on the eyes. (So yes, I believe the compass points mentioned in the introduction of the commanders equal the four Blues.) This line up of commanders is in character for my Dragon which makes me happy.

Draws breath where’s my revo commander rp blogs at

[angelsndragons]

*sing* it's been ~a while~

and i have been watching vm vs the nein a lot so let's talk about it. as always with me, this is a very long word vomit.

i said over on my mechanics post that the vm playbook requires urgency while the nein's playbook requires setup. here's what i mean. if the nein can make it to round 3-4 intact, that is if all of them are up, they are going to win. period. the nein simply have too many ways to steal turns from their enemies or to maximize their own effectiveness for things to go any other way.

if you want to see this in action even with a reduced roster, go watch the fire elemental fight in episode 129 and count the rounds. between caduceus' mass cure wounds and spirit guardians, caleb's slow, veth's sneak attacks, and jester's guiding bolts, the nein were able to scrape out a win thanks more to their bag of tricks than the damage output. veth only got sneak attack because of guiding bolt's secondary effects, slow kept veth safe from an opportunity attack and jester from a multi-attack, mass cure wounds gave caleb that round to cast slow, and the spirit guardians passively whittled down the enemies into KO range. the accumulated secondary effects were too much for the enemies to withstand and they fell hard. notice how everything built on one another here. that's what cockroach parties learn to do well. it was sloppier than a normal nein fight but they did it with a reduced roster AND with nearly all of their high level spell slots spent before the fight. yeah, they're fucking scary.

vm, however, is a whole different kind of scary. this team can put you down before you even know what's happening. it's harder to target the group's biggest damage dealers because you have a hulking barbarian and often an elemental up front locking down combatants. the dagger rogue can teleport and fly. oh, and give himself an extra action each round. the ranger and the gunslinger can stand back and just go to town. the freaking bear can maul you. the bard can make your life a living joke in your final moments. the cleric is a wildcard because the group is built to fight without her; if she's around, good luck because that's another round of attacks you have to take and an extra round vm can take. their DCs are ridiculous, as are their overall ACs.

but the thing to know about vm is that they have to put you down fast. they don't have the hit points for longer fights and they definitely don't have the utility for longer fights. their druid is offensively oriented, their cleric is often absent, and their bard is mostly support. he's often the only one running that bag of tricks. he can and will fuck up an opposing team given the chance and bolster his own, the problem is that he has almost no backup here. it's a giant hole that is begging to be exploited. it's an even bigger hole when that bard can only cast one spell per round.

so, going into the battle royale, the vm side had to down one member of the nein as fast as possible preferably in two rounds or fewer. it almost doesn't matter who, because if you down beau or fjord, that forces jester or fjord to spend their action or spell getting the downed member back up. if jester goes down, fjord has to do something about it. well, i say it almost doesn't matter but beau's deflect missiles makes her the worst target of the trio and yes, i'm including fjord's half-orc bounce back in that calculation. that gives you one round where the person healing isn't fucking up your team. vm's secondary objective was to monitor and control beau. her movement is nothing to compared to a hasted vax but her stunning strike is the most lethal weapon the nein brought into this fight. vm overall is not a melee group to begin with and their con saves are all garbage. vm has to find a way to keep her off their tails if they want a chance. we also know that vm's plan was to try to take out jester first so throw that objective into the mix as well.

all the nein have to do is survive the first couple rounds, monitor scanlan and pike, and get into position. that's basically it. the nein can absolutely withstand vax and percy's damage output for the first two rounds. pike and scanlan's damage output can be scary but pike in particular has to decide whether she wants to hold high level slots for healing. and she would need those higher level slots to get close to percy and vax's damage output. the nein know from experience that the support caster is where the real trouble will begin.

but before we kick things off, remember that matt specifically designed this battlefield to take turns away from the teams. the chests are an action to search and are located far out of the way in the field. the gem requires an action to activate, which basically means sacrificing your action for someone else's, and shifts between six designated points on the field. matt, who has a deep understanding of how both teams operate, decided to play on the nein's insecurities that they were at a severe item disadvantage and see if he could get them to bite. high risk, high reward. granted, this is me speculating but it does look like matt saw the fight very differently from the players and readjusted the field accordingly.

so we kick off and immediately scanlan proves why he is the top priority on the nein's list. he gets the gem, gets fjord prone on the ground, and comes within a hair's breadth of turning the fight into a five on two potential slaughter. travis brilliantly responds to these circumstances in the best of ways. see, fjord isn't the nein's utility magician for this fight; fjord's the bait. travis makes a very big spectacle of himself and fjord's predicament. and vm buys it hook, line, and sinker. ashley tries to continue with the original plan of gunning for jester only to discover that jester is who knows where.

vax, percy and scanlan? immediately take their shots at fjord. but fjord's on the ground which puts percy's awful misfire mechanic into reasonable play. so fjord gets lucky and doesn't take anywhere near the amount of damage he could have from percy. scanlan, after percy is removed from the field, decides he's better off trying to finish fjord but only hits a 3rd level thunder wave instead of a higher level one, which sam was probably saving for some counterspells or such. i don't think a higher level would have made that much of a difference but it is important to note.

more importantly, vax gets greedy. he got two good hits on fjord with his two actions, he could have left and hidden for the next turn. yes, vm has to down fjord as fast as possible. however that haste is going to be more effective over the long term if vax can keep it. but fjord's easy prey and he thinks vm can down him before jester can get over there to do anything about it. so he goes for the bonus action attack. pike eventually joins this mad dash scramble and like scanlan, she absolutely needed to throw something huge at fjord to get past his half-orc racial trait to have a prayer at downing him. but she did not because ashley seems to have been saving all her high levels for healing so fjord survives the round in honestly a very good position. vax can't target him from range with the cloud up, scanlan now has bigger problems than fjord with molly right up on him, and pike ran, taking damage and healing fjord in the process.

meanwhile, the nein's ladies are free to run and play the field as they see fit. jester has a big opening round flame strike. beau decides she can hold off on her round 2 blitz run to vm in favor of bringing molly onto the field. remember kids, never let a monk with 55ft of movement have the run of the place, it's bad for business. jester then makes a great play with her dispel magic at vax's haste. hashtag thanks, fjord. remember, kids, cockroach parties excel at taking turns and actions away from their opponents. in round 2 alone, the nein successfully remove percy from the field and remove vax's extra attack. that's both big damage dealers hobbled in one round. they also gave themselves an extra turn, adding molly onto the field. and oh boy, molly.

here we see the utility martial fighter molly could have been. sam's confused by the low damage that molly's doing his first round but the damage isn't really the point of the attacks. that brand of tethering is far more important, as are taliesin keeping an eye on which reactions will support the nein and molly's second attack wasting scanlan's reaction. counterspell is off the table for the back half of round 2-beginning of round 3, which is important if fjord wants to get the heck out of dodge.

in case it wasn't obvious earlier in the match that the nein are absolutely gunning for scanlan, round 3 begins with beau's blitz against scanlan. fjord's luck against the dominate person balances out with scanlan's save against the stun and beau missing one attack. here, vm starts to get distracted. they chose their focus fire target, fjord, but now do not, arguably cannot, follow through on it. we'll never know what could have happened had vm said to hell with beau and molly in our faces, we have to finish fjord.

vax tries to retaliate against beau but here's where the cockroach starts to come into play. molly blood curses vax, which saves beau a full sneak attack+ worth of damage. it also utterly wastes vax's turn. fjord manages to escape (and damage pike while he's at it) and regroup where it's safe. scanlan tries to dimension door but fails due to the brand. literally any other move scanlan could try on the pair of them had a better chance of success. instead, another vm turn is lost. taliesin recognizes the importance of getting beau advantage and supports her at the cost of two of his attacks missing, but not before scanlan is forced to cutting words one of them. another potential counterspell and cutting words lost. neither jester or pike contribute significantly to this round; the nein have done so much damage to pike in three rounds that she is forced to heal herself while jester chooses to dimension door herself to the gem and only a low damage roll lets it evade her.

beau takes molly's setup and gets the critical scanlan stun. he loses his full round. fjord takes the opportunity molly provided him to polymorph into a t-rex, bringing him fully back into the fight. vm is really going to have a time and a half trying to finish him now unless they can put up a big single damage attack. jester builds on beau's setup by casting flame strike, whose dex save scanlan automatically fails. he goes down. if you're the nein, this is exactly where you want pike focused, on her team and not on yours. she has access to most of the same spells that jester has and the more you pressure her to focus on her team, the better. it's not wasting her turn, precisely, but it is controlling what she can reasonably do with it.

now we come to percy versus beau. i don't want to diminish the insane good luck beau had to take only 26 points of damage from six shots because what matters here is that percy absolutely could not down beau. period. her hit points were too high and after she took almost nothing from the first two shots, it should have been clear that she was going to get her turn and she would absolutely attempt to stun and down pike and scanlan. i'm not going to monday morning quarterback this fight but i will point out that the more rolls travis has to make to maintain concentration, the greater the chance he fails and you get to hit fjord's actual hit point pool and trade fjord for scanlan. and if you can get him before he can get back into the fray, even better.

beau stuns the gnomes and drops scanlan again. her inner cockroach rears its head once more as she negates more than half the damage on vax's critical hit sneak attack. fjord-rex downs scanlan and grapples pike. the stun on pike here really helps negate that high AC of hers. after scanlan's death, it's a long slow death spiral. vax abandons the fight in the next critical round in favor of keeping the gem instead of targeting fjord. percy attacks beau once more instead of fjord due to fjord dangling pike over lava. he starts to focus on fjord only to get distracted by jester. pike goes down but vax gets caught by beau before he can get her back up. and so it goes with vm losing turn after turn after turn until finally the nein poof percy out of existence and bring molly back. a fitting end for the team who started their final boss fight with eight and came out nine.

bottom line here, the vm team played like they had way more time than they actually did. they had to commit to a target and see it dead as fast as possible. they had to control the battlefield quickly and keep it. they didn't so they couldn't. aside from building on damage dealt, they couldn't create advantages or opportunities for each other nearly as effectively as nein did. all of these factors meant that the nein did what they always do: grind their enemies under heel.

[mrstaeminlee]

Mission Complete Ch. 1

You had two goals in life. One: Complete your squad training without dying. Two: Fuck Levi Ackerman

Pairings: Levi/f!reader

Warnings: Swearing, eventual smut, lmk if I need to add anything~

You really had no idea what the fuck prompted you to join the military. Maybe it was to find some redeeming grace in the eyes of your dying mother, maybe it was because you wanted a life with as much stability as one could muster, maybe it was because you just fucking hated farming.

Whatever it was, you wished to any God that would listen that you would have buried it in the ground along with the countless friends and family members you had lost to the Titans.

The first week of the cadet corps was everything you knew you would hate and more. Between the foul smelling breath of the commandant threatening to make you puke up the bread you had managed to steal, to working your body to the point of sneaking away from one on one combat to puke behind the bushes, after seven days you had almost decided that maybe digging in the dirt for the rest of your miserable life wasn't so bad.

There was only one thing stopping you from making your own walk of shame to the wagon of regret.

Levi Ackerman.

AKA the man you fantasized about every night when you managed to find enough strength to finger yourself below the covers.

He was a couple of inches shorter, true, but you were willing to break your rule of not fucking anyone shorter than you for him.

You had only see him twice in your life by complete chance, the first had been when you happened to be by the gates in time to see the Scouts returning from what was undoubtably another failed mission, and you decided that what the hell, might as well have a look at Humanity's Strongest in the flesh. Granted, it hadn't been his best day; his green cloak was splattered with what could only have been the blood of his comrades as it didn't look as if he had a single scratch on him, but he looked like a god, albeit one that had just gotten his ass kicked out of heaven. His eyes seemed to be sunken in, and even from how far away you were you found yourself shivering from the intensity of his dead gaze. You weren't sure what possessed you to lift your hand as he eyes moved through the crowd, looking for whom, you didn't know, or what possessed him to raise those eyes to you, but you found yourself lost in haunted silver as you gave a soft wave. The way he seemed to look straight through you, not even seeing you even as you stared at each other, was enough to convince you that you needed to do whatever it took to see this man again.

You enlisted the start of the next week.

The second time was completely by chance.

Everyone was desperate for military recruits, and desperate times called for desperate calls to important people to make appearances in front of people that were well, not very important.

Erwin Smith, Dot Pixis, Nile Dawk, Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoe, Rico Brzenska, and even Darius Zackly graced the entrance ceremony of the new Cadets, and you thanked whatever bone in your body made you a teacher's pet because you had a front row seat to the man that had plagued your thoughts every single day in the past week. His appearance was brief and he didn't speak, just stared at the fresh faces, some cocky, some blank, but mostly terrified new recruits, and you could have sworn that you saw a tinge of sadness hidden in the silver, as if he could already foresee the deaths of everyone in front of him. He followed after Erwin immediately after the blond gave his speech about thanking you all for making the decision to serve humanity and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. 'I'm not doing this for humanity, I'm doing this for dick,' you thought as you signed your life away to this shit camp for the next two years.

How one man who was fucking shorter than you managed to convince you to trade the next 728 days, 14 hours, 37 minutes, and 15 seconds of your life for physical and emotional hell was beyond you, and yet here you were, standing proud and slightly hungover from the pre-graduation celebrating you did with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin the night before. They hadn't initially been your first choice in friends, but Armin was nice to you from the start and once you very quickly learned that flirting with Eren in front of Mikasa was not in your best interest, you had decided that they were alright; especially when Eren's Titan form had been revealed. If anyone was going to have to get close enough to keep an eye on Eren, it would be Captain Levi.

The very man you were thinking of walked on the stage along with Nile Dawk, Dot Pixis, and Erwin Smith as the three took turns giving their pitch. You hadn't made the top 10 but were happy for your friends that were, you were content with your place as 13th. In a class of over 500, you still considered it a win, and if your parents were still alive you knew they'd be proud. As the remaining members of the top 10 who had opted to join the elitest MP's went off to talk to Nile and the other scared fucks ran off to sign themselves to the Garrison regiment, you and around a hundred other members stayed where you were and you licked your lips, forcing your heart rate to calm itself. 'Calm down, you can't work your way up to fucking the strongest man in the world if you die of heart attack before-'

"Listen up you little shits."

Oh my God he was speaking you've never heard his voice before it's so fucking-

"Most of you are going to die. Are you prepared for that?"

Ah, so Humanity's Strongest was a sweet talker.

"Erwin is making me come up here and talk, so we're all going to pretend that I'm saying some meaningful bullshit. But here's the truth: If you aren't strong, you will die, and it will be painful. Imagine the thought of seeing your childhood friend's entrails being slurped up like spaghetti by a Titan, while the entire time he's conscious enough to reach his hand out for you, and you are able to do nothing for him because you spent exactly one second hesitating, or you were a moment too late to draw your blades, or react to the threat. If that scares you, then do us all a favor and put down that half assed salute and sell your soul to the Garrison where you'll spend your days fucking the best whores for a discount if you're in uniform and getting drunk on the clock."

After his touching speech you and your now dripping panties decided that you had indeed made the right decision in selling yourself to the Scouts.

One month later

It was moments like these, where you weren't quite trashed but definitely more than tipsy, that you had never been happier to be part of the survey corps. I mean, you were in peak physical shape (you still couldn't believe you had abs. Abs!), you were hot, you were fit, and you knew Sasha Braus, who had managed to steal a few bottles of top shelf liquor from the higher ups.

You were also horny as fuck. It had been over a year since you'd gotten laid, and you were using the dildo you'd bought on your first trip back into town as often as you brushed your teeth (twice a day, you didn't fuck with cavities). You briefly thought about enlisting the help of one of your current drinking buddies but after seeing your choices you decided to leave it to old faithful hidden in your pillowcase. There was Jean, who albeit was pretty hot even with the long face but was so in love with Mikasa it made you want to vomit. Marco, who you were almost one hundred percent sure was gay; Connie, who held the sexual appeal of a pile of horse shit, although he was super nice. Reiner almost looked promising but you knew underneath those stocky muscles was a shitload of emotional baggage you didn't want, and Bertholt was head over heels for Annie of all people. That left Armin and Eren. Eren you already knew was out, while your slut senses told you he'd be a great lay, you weren't quite ready for your life to end at the hands of Mikasa. That left Armin. You tilted your head, staring at him as you sipped on your god forsaken concoction and debated fucking him or not. He wasn't outright sexy, but he'd filled in well during the two years of training and you had seen glimpses of his surprisingly impressive muscles under his white shirt. He might actually do. He'd be shy as hell and you would have to lead everything, not to mention he'd probably cum in less than a minute, but it just might-

“Did you guys know that Captain Levi is a virgin?"

You spit the mix of vodka, rum, and whatever mixer Reiner had put in all over the face of the person you had just considered fucking.

"I'm sorry, what?" You turned your attention to Christa, apologetically handing Armin a napkin and patting his cheek.

Christa blushed at the attention and scooted closer to Ymir, who threw an arm around her shoulders and gave Reiner her customary 'If you even look at her weird, I will gut you' look. "W-Well, recently I started helping out in the infirmary because they've been short handed. You all know, it's that time of year where everyone has to get looked at and they give us that sheet of paper to fill out with all of our personal information to keep track of potential diseases. I was in charge of filing the paperwork the day they brought all of the officers in, and on the paper they ask you how many sexual partners you've had and Captain Levi wrote 0. But you guys, you have to promise not to tell anyone! This is private information, if it somehow gets out that I told you this I'll get into a lot of trouble!"

Ymir chuckled, placing a sloppy kiss at the top of the blonde's head. "Don't worry about a thing sweet cheeks, if any of these miscreants here says a word I'll kill them for ya. But we don't have to worry about that at all, now do we?" She glared at each person in the room, who all looked as if Christa were a ghost, and slowly shook their heads.

Your life was changed.

Captain Levi Ackerman.

The strongest man in the world.

Rumored former thug of the Underground.

The person responsible for killing as many Titans as a hundred soldiers.

The person whose squad every scout dreamed of being on, was a virgin.

You screeched out a laugh before you could help it, the alcohol doing nothing to try and make you quiet yourself as you fell onto your back laughing, cup long forgotten as it rolled across the floor. The person who initiated your drive to join the military in the first place, the person you literally dreamed of fucking, had never gotten his dick wet.

Clearly, you had your work cut out for you.

If you managed to live through the sight of Ymir reaching over to punch you in the face to shut you up.

[kyotarou]

KISS ME GOODBYE

pairing: daishou suguru x gn!reader

genre: angst, smidge of fluff, historical au

warnings: major character death, mentions of blood, war, death, and vomiting

word count: 1.1k+

dedicated to: the lovely @oikirstein​ and @hajigumi​. i hope you both cry <3 

You were used to seeing men like this—bloody, bludgeoned, and hanging onto their last breath. The first time you were sent as a medic on the battlefield, you nearly vomited from the sight and the horrendous smell. Even worse was the agonized cries of men who swore they’d return home from war only to lie on a cot made of wood and linen, tears running down their dirtied faces, praying to the higher powers to grant them one last chance.

After months of the same sights over and over again, you grew accustomed to these painful circumstances, but the soldier you tended to now was a bit of an oddball. Rather than glassy eyes and dry wails, a coy smile remained on his face even as you pulled bits of metal and wood from his damaged skin. His scuffed iron and bronze armor lay at the foot of the cot, covered in mud, blood, and vines.

Daishou read his family crest, gold and shiny under all the grub. He didn’t once scream or yell as you pressed a clean cloth to the gash on his side where a sword had gone through, nor did you hear any prayers or pleads fall from his lips. You didn’t expect him to turn his head towards you, watching you treat him with delicacy. You didn’t care for the stares you received from these men, numb to their wistful eyes, but something about his gaze made goosebumps rise on your skin despite the humidity of the camp.

If it weren’t for the war, you could picture the type of man he’d be. Young, charming, and cunning. The snake-like features that appeared once you wiped the sweat and soot from his face made your heart skip a beat, and it was then that you realized he was no older than you were. You grimaced; he should’ve been out living his life, not fighting the battles of the so-called leaders who promised safety if the nation worked themselves to death.

As you reached for the medicine on your work table, the gentle weight of his fingertips fell upon your wrist. You hummed in response, and the sight of his eyes, now dark compared to how bright they were earlier, made a lump form in your throat.

“Don’t,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”

You raised a brow, brushing off his words as a product of his head injury, but his hand wrapped yours, tighter now.

“Don’t,” he repeated. “Save it for someone else.”

You glanced around the camp, noting the other medics tending to the dozens of other soldiers. Most of them were in the same condition as he was, worse even, and you couldn’t think of anyone else to use the last of your resources on. What shocked you more was the fact that he even offered, compared to the previous soldiers you’ve had who begged for a little more ointment, a bit of gauze, or a drop of liquor to soothe the pain.

But Daishou pulled your hand away from your kit and kept it close to his chest where you felt the slow, faint beating of his heart. The longer you stayed, the weaker the beats became. You had a job to do, an oath you swore upon taking the job. There was no way you could let him die, not when the troops were growing smaller, and he had barely reached his twenties. Yet you couldn’t pull away, the gentle smile on his face locking your line of sight with his.

“Daishou-”

“Suguru,” he jumped in. “Call me Suguru.”

“Suguru.” Though you had only known him for less than an hour, his given name flowed naturally off your tongue, like it had been in your vocabulary for years. 

“That sounds better,” he sighed. “I like it when you say it.”

“You don’t even know me or my name,” you snorted to which he smirked. 

“Then tell me.”

You huffed. “L/N Y/N, and don’t you dare call me by my given name.”

“Y/N,” Suguru parroted. “That’s a nice name for a nice-looking medic.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me while you’re on the brink of death?” Your eyes widened as your teeth clamped down on your tongue. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”

“’S okay,” he laughed, voice weaker than it was minutes ago. You had to crane down to hear him, your ear grazing over his lips. “It’s inevitable now. I will say this is quite intimate, though.” 

Heat bloomed across your cheeks, equivalent to the glimmering sun that rose above the top of the camp’s tent. 

“Say,” Suguru whispered. “As a dying man, I’d like to have one last wish fulfilled.”

“Oh?” You leaned back to look at his handsome face, idly brushing away the strands of hair strewn over his bruised forehead. “What might that be?”

“A kiss from the medic sitting beside me before I go.”

If the request had come from anyone else, you would’ve fought the urge to crinkle your nose in disgust. But something about these last few moments with a man you barely knew, how he managed to share a handful of laughs and charm himself into your heart before his would stop beating made you tip your head down until your soft lips pressed against his rough, chapped ones. You didn’t care if he tasted like salt and blood, or if this would be the next topic of discussion at dinner—you hoped to bring Suguru some peace of mind in his final moments, especially if they were with you.

As your mouth moved against his (he was idle by then), the tears unknowingly clumped in your lashes fell down your hot face, down to his cheeks that began to lose their warmth. This was the job you chose, you reminded yourself. Suguru was one of many soldiers whose stories ended before they began, and he wouldn’t be the last. Once you sat up again, his eyelids covered most of his irises, but you could still see the playful shimmer in them before it faded.

“Thank you, Y/N” he murmured, keeping your hand against his chest. “Thank you.”

He gave his final breath as his heartbeat faded until there was nothing left to feel. It was after you laid the honorary white cloth over his body, adorned with gold trim, and carried his armor to the basin of water outside the camp that you let yourself weep. You wept as you scrubbed the grime away, polishing it for his parents who couldn’t see their son’s face for the last time. You wept until it pained your throat, and your lungs burned with each breath, for the tears you spilled would be the first of many for the young soldier whose final moments lay in your hands.

[daydreamed-snippets]

Part One Part Two

Personnel in crisp cream uniforms walked the brightly lit hallway with a purpose; either conversing with each other, gazing at datapads, or rushing off to who knows where. Supervillain nodded to some in passing; taking the time to pause with others. Sidekick squeezed in closer, stepping on the back of their boots, grazing their shoulder against supervillain’s arm in a pathetic endeavor to just hide. No one warned them about the trepidation that tugged at their soul, nor did anyone prepare them for the general neurosis of it all. The lights overhead strained their eyes, and the cloister of people moved like an insect hive, an incursion on their senses. They could feel a headache forming. Their various cuts and scrapes burned. Their knees hurt too, body still twitching from electrocution.

And they were all staring at them.

Keeping their head lowered, eyes affixed elsewhere, sidekick could still see all of them through their peripheral. Supervillain’s ‘team’ consisted of far more people than the association originally thought. They tensed as each gaze befell them; probably taking in their tattered costume, unkempt hair, and the collar around their neck.

Eyes curious, judging, questioning.

Shame itched at the back of their neck, screaming to be scratched, but they kept their hands in front of them where they could be easily seen. At least the supervillain wasn’t parading them around, so there was that. The leash was lax and discrete enough so long as sidekick didn’t resist.

But who were they to resist now? They were powerless. It was done and over. Supervillain won. Teammates had no idea where they were if they were even looking for them at this point.

Cramming their eyes shut, they tried to hold onto those little ribbons of faith that gleamed at them through this emblematic darkness. Usefulness dictated importance, which in the Hero’s Association meant a role working with the team. Here it would be no doubt ensure their survival. Usefulness drawing the line between life and death.

They wanted to live, but being of use to the enemy churned their stomach. Policy made no room for turncoats. An informant maybe, but they had no mercy for traitors.

So be an informant.

What was the layout here? What were the dimensions of this hallway? How many doors did they pass? Count the number of people, sidekick. Gather information, no matter how scant. Be docile to the enemy, but pragmatic to the team.

Sixteen. They already passed sixteen people. Good. The Hero’s Association would see just how useful they were once teammates rescue them out of this sterilized hellhole. They will rescue them.

Sidekick bumped into supervillain again, a warm, solid presence, and supervillain turned, looking down. “I’ll let you hold your leash, puppy, if that would make you feel better. At any rate, you keep stepping on me and I don’t want my boot scuffed." They made a motion of unwinding the wire from their wrist and handing it over. But when sidekick moved to take it, the supervillain drew back. "But remember,” they said, voice holding a dark promise. “If you choose to bolt know that I have hundreds of people under my command in this annex alone.”

Sidekick gulped.

Hundreds? Hundreds? So this wasn’t just an assortment of random villains and a handful of henchmen? This was an organization in of itself. One that could rival the Hero’s Association.

Holy shit.

In dismay, sidekick nodded numbly and the wire was placed in their hands. They murmured a thank you before realizing it, and the supervillain started again, sidekick stumbling to follow.

Let it be knowledge to tuck away at a later time. No matter how small, knowledge always proves to be advantageous.

They walked a few more meters and when supervillain stopped again. This time sidekick followed suit keeping a healthy distance between them, shuffling a bit, and looking dubiously at supervillain. They keyed something in a pad—out of sight—and a door swished open.

Their breath caught and, sidekick raised their chin. Here was their cell. They’d probably rot in here, or spend a majority of their time recovering from torture and wondering when their next session would begin.

Hope against hope, they wished it would be clean at least. Were they ever? The association gave no indication on cell parameters, or any information really save for the unpleasantness of it all. Sidekick wasn't delicate but they were averse to pain in general. They were told it made for a bad hero.

Sidekick hesitated, realizing that they should say something smarting. Brave. What would teammates say if they were in this situation? Something wisecracking and sarcastic. But then again, whenever sidekick opened their mouth the supervillain always had some observant retort. Something comment to off-balance them, and set them on their toes.

They opened their mouth anyway.

A hand on the small of their back maneuvered them through the threshold.

Supervillain stepped in as well, and the door slipped back sealing shut, leaving them in complete darkness. Walking past them, their captor roused a computer interface with a verbal command, and the area rustled to life.

Sidekick’s eyes widened at the sight.

This wasn’t a cell. These weren’t even quarters. This was a well-furnished apartment with a full kitchen, dining room, and living area. A hallway split off to their right, where sidekick assumed the bathroom and bedroom lay. No windows, but large light therapy lamps joined regular ones behind traditional furniture and on end tables. A sudden contrast to the hard lines and surfaces of the garrison hallways, an apparent appeal to a softer aesthetic.

What the?

“It’s late,” supervillain called making their rounds, checking on something sidekick was unaware of in the adjacent room. “You will take a shower, and have something to eat before settling in for the night.” Their words held no room for argument.

What kind of game was this? Sidekick leaned back against the door willing for it to open. Policy stated all enemies would treat captors roughly. That they would have no regard for their corporeal needs. Unless this was all a ruse. To get sidekick to trust them, to get them to join the supervillain’s team.

"Don't worry, your collar won't zap you if it gets wet. Medic isn't that sadistic. Not without permission." They came back into the room, eyes sliding back to sidekick with a hidden glint. “I could always bathe you myself, puppy…”

Ducking their head, sidekick shook it vigorously at supervillain’s knowing chuckle. Directing them down the hall, supervillain steered them towards the bathroom: a single shower, sink, and toilet. Newly cleaned. Immaculately decorated. They turned on the shower, showed sidekick how to adjust the temperate then left after unknotting the wire, unleashing their collar. The door remained propped open, a subtle warning not to close it.

A glance down the hallway to assure themselves that the supervillain had indeed left, sidekick shed their costume, tearing a bigger hole in the sleeve in their haste to behind obscure glass and out of the open. Granted, it wasn't like there was much preventing supervillain from entering again.

Still, they glanced back before quickly stepped into the shower, relishing the hot water on their stiff muscles. Blood and grime pooled on the tile floor, circling the drain. It shouldn't have surprised them how much there was. The team called them in to act as a diversion as much as an escape route. Sidekick was hit, but not hard as the wires spread paper-thin cuts along their arms and legs. It was not really that bad if you compared it to broken bones and missing limbs.

It stung like hell though.

The only soap available was one held in a dark grey bottle. Uncapping it, the scent of muted fern and something like vanilla filled their sinuses. Fresh. Admittedly soothing. Bringing it to a good lather, they quickly scrubbed themselves, breathing in the aroma more and more until it clicked. This was the supervillain’s scent they were covering themselves in. In fact, everything smelled like this. Everything in this part of the garrison smelled like it the moment sidekick stepped into the room.

It was maddening.

It was intoxicating.

Sidekick finished up quickly, shutting off the valve, and stepped out, wrapping a towel hanging on a large ring around themselves. It shouldn’t be intoxicating. It should be revolting, or at least off-putting.

Their costume was missing, they soon realized a little too late. In its place a crisp cream uniform, the same as the ones they’d seen everyone else don. Supervillain did sneak in when they were showering, probably when their back was turned. Color filled their face again, as they caught the reflection of themselves in the mirror. Neck red from maltreatment, and a bit too pale.

Taking no chances for their captor to return, and truly appreciate the view, they pulled on the uniform quickly, combed fingers through their shoulder-length hair, and called it a day. What did it matter how they appeared? They couldn’t go home. The team abandoned them, and the supervillain was being… odd. Nothing mattered and all the rules were bent.

They padded out and took a seat in the dining area where a chair had been pulled out for them.

“This will be soft on your stomach,” supervillain said, placing a plate before them before easing into the other chair. “I don’t want you vomiting on my carpet, puppy.”

“I don’t—” sidekick glanced up, searching the plains of their sharp face. The circles under the supervillain's eyes were more than noticeable, in the temperate light they were etched in stone. Supervillain made a noise for them to continue. “I don’t like being called puppy.”

“Give me your real name, and if I like it better than puppy, I’ll stop.”

Their already clenched jaw ground tighter; a compromise they were unwilling to make. Picking up the spoon, supervillain held it aloft, food tucked neatly on it, and directed it to sidekick’s lips. “I need you to eat puppy, so I can go to bed. I don’t want to your pathetic mewling in the night.”

Sidekick’s teeth ground together.

“Have you ever used your portals to injure anyone?” The change in subject was sudden, and sidekick’s lips slackened. “Have you ever cut someone in half before, or even just a limb?” Sidekick looked away, nervous fingers playing with their sleeve. They couldn’t help but tremble. The answer was a resounding no, but they be damned to articulate it.

“Have you ever killed anyone with your portals?” The question brought the sidekick’s attention back, and they tried to fix the supervillain with a dead stare.

They should have known by now it was impossible to win a battle of wills when they looked into the supervillain’s eyes. There was a darkness there so deep, it moved. It took shape. Haunting. Plotting. Sidekick could practically see the desire to devour them completely reflected in those stirring pools.

“I’ll take your silence as a no,” they said evenly, after a beat. “Have you been given combat training?”

Yes, the basics, sidekick thought, but nothing which could defend against a supervillain.

“Have they given you any training besides making you housebroken?”

“I’m not—!” The opportunity supervillain had been waiting for came, and they shoved the spoonful into sidekick’s mouth with a look that dared them to spit it out. They chew slowly, stomach in knots but it was good.

“Let me guess, you’re not a dog,” supervillain supplied lazily. “Eat.”

“I have had training. In multiple areas,” they picked up the spoon with a shaky hand, stomach rumbling. “But I’m not going to answer your questions. If captured, policy states that I am not to give out anything besides my affiliation to the Hero’s Association. I am not going to give you any information," they let out a shaky breath, a spoonful of food in their cheeks, "not even under extreme coercion. Teammates would never forgive me, and the Hero's Association has a zero-tolerance policy."

“What kind of ‘heroes’ organization punishes you for breaking under torture?”

Sidekick’s voice squeaked. “That’s not what I said. They’ve… been good to me.”

“In what way?”

“I-I’m not answering that.”

Supervillain relented, and sidekick ate in tense silence.

Once finished, the supervillain led them to the living room. A small cot pulled out from one of the couches. After dressing it, supervillain pulled out a chain from one of the end table drawers and clipped it to a ring recently drilled into the wall. They then handed sidekick a glass of water and tucked a small pill into their hand.

“No, I—”

“It’s melatonin, and it will help you sleep. It won’t put you to sleep.” They poured several into their hand and tossed it into their mouth as they wandered to find water. “You’ll need it," they called. "You’ve been shaking since you got out of the shower. Get some rest.” Their footsteps became more distant as they went down the hallway to the bedroom, bed creaking as they entered it.

The lights clicked off and the sidekick was left in darkness.

They shrugged into bed, pulling the light sheets over themselves while kicking off the comforter. A cold sweat claimed them, and they stared at the ceiling for the better part of three hours, thoughts churning, churning, churning.

So what if they’d never hurt anyone with their powers before, that didn’t mean they weren’t a threat. That didn’t mean that the supervillain could treat them like a patsy. It didn't mean that they were incapable.

They could do it if they wanted to.

They could do it to supervillain if they wanted to.

Why, they were just sleeping in the next room. Sidekick could hear deep breathing and the stutter of a dream-filled sigh. There was no need to use their full power to slip a link in the chain or to silently creep over to the room. They could make a sliver of a portal for half a second, and endure the buzz from their collar.

Sidekick set their plan in motion.

After the mini-portal, they blacked out for a second and woke with a gasp. Part one done. They were free, chain hewn in two. They probably had moments before anyone noticed, so they needed to move quickly.

Have you ever used your portals to injure anyone?

Supervillain's words came back to them, as they wandered the hallway, honing in on the dark bedroom. They stepped through the threshold, a thought sparking of how they were invading. How a bedroom spoke of intimacy, a cozy and solitary space.

A single red light blinked from the ceiling corner. Sidekick's eyes were already well adjusted to the dark that they could see supervillain's outline on the bed, lying on their back, arms spread out defenselessly.

They could picture it now. Sidekick fails the demon supervillain. Sure they might die in the process, but it would serve the association. It would cement them in the annals of heroic feats.

Have you ever killed anyone with your portals?

Moving to the side of the bed, sidekick’s hands hovered, not yet touching. Faltering in their pursuit. Where was that rage their felt earlier? Where was that appetite for vengeance? It was there, they could feel it under the surface, but it was a poor substitute for bloodlust. A poor replacement for the mindset needed to end a life.

Could they do it?

"Why don't you go back to bed like a good little labradoodle? You don't have to stomach for this."

Sidekick almost jumped at the sound. Hands reached up to boldly clamp onto their wrists.

"Let me go!"

"I warned you, puppy."

They lunged for the supervillain's throat, the heat back again. Volatile, it roared to life. Erupting, unpredictable, but sidekick was grateful for its presence now. It wasn't bloodlust, but it possibly could be damaging enough.

Supervillain pulled them on top of them, and sidekick's legs swung around their body, hoping to get a better angle to grip their neck. "You think I'm going to cooperate with you? I will fight you at every turn. You will regret keeping me alive. I will gather enough intel that once I escape, teammates will be able to take you down."

"If they want you back."

The statement made sidekick pause. "What did you just say?"

"If," the repeated, slowly, the next words in a rhythmic manner. "If they want you back."

"What do you mean if?"

Supervillain's eyes drift up to the red light winking steadily at them.

Blood drained from sidekick's face.

"It records video, but no sound. Makes it easier to edit, I'm told. And I have people in my employment that can edit anything. They can and will make this little tussle we've having look like a lover's tryst." They let go of sidekick's wrists and trailed a pitying hand down their cheek. "What would teammates think of you once I send them this video of us in bed together? Would they jump to the conclusion that we've been joined this whole time? That our affair was the reason why you closed the portal? Did you choose to stay with me? Or would they assume that since you have such a weak constitution, that it only took one day for me to seduce you?"

"This was a trap. You knew," sidekick licked their lips, and supervillain's eyes followed the movement. "You set this up from the beginning."

"I set up fail-safes in case you chose this path."

"You tricked me."

"You disobeyed me," they said, voice hardening and a chill crept down sidekick's spine. They sat up, moving sidekick to their lap, and gripped their chin roughly, face inches from theirs. "I was nice before, and you squandered my kindness. Now you will face the punishment."

Wire detached from the ceiling like vines, wrapping themselves around sidekick before they had a chance to scramble off the bed and bolt. Their feet lifted off the ground. Once again they were suspended, drawn tightly to the four corners of the room. Supervillain didn't spare a glance at them as they got out of bed, and left the room, all but ignoring sidekick's screams.

[gloster]

FAVORITE FANFICS OF 2020

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

I know I speak for all when I say....I cannot wait to toss 2020 out the door the way Uncle Phil constantly did with Jazz. One of the things that got me through this rough year, besides family & friends & BTS, were fanfics.

It’s that time of year again where I make a list of all the fanfics that I absolutely adored. Some are by veteran favs of mine, others are new to me who just knocked it out of the park. If you’re interested in past lists, here is 2019′s list and 2018′s. If y’all are interested in doing your own fanfic favs of the year, please do so and tag me. Always on the hunt for new favs. 

So without furhter ado, my fav fanfics of 2020:

1). Another Word for Forever series by stardropdream (sheith)

Summary: Shiro knows better than to expect love in an arranged marriage. This is all for the sake of universal peace, after all, and solidifying a Terran-Galran alliance. At the very least, Shiro can hope to make a friend out of this. Becoming friends would be much easier, though, if he and his husband could actually communicate. 

With a language barrier and a mountain of cultural differences between them, getting to know Keith proves to be a challenge. Luckily, Shiro's always worked well with challenges.

2020 shockingly became the year of sheith. I ended up rewatching the show w/my bestie @littlenightdragon​. Diving more deeply into it w/my other bestie @kila09​. She and I spent the better half of this year devouring so many fanfics of them in various AUs. I came across new fanfic authors, and stardropdream is among them. 

If I could describe this series & stardropdream, I’ll take a cue from Lady Gaga: “ talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it”

This series was just PERFECTION. I’ve gotten into arranged-marriage AUs and this has been one of the best I’ve read. It was just perfection. The language barrier definitely added an extra charm to it, in which Shiro finds his own ways to get to know his husband better: both creative and funny ways. So many cute moments, so many funny moments with Hunk being the translating middle man between them, and the smut. THE SMUT. THE SMUT. THE SMUT. Just *chef’s kiss* Incredible. It was just so so sweet, and such a comfort read. I reread this series 5 times already and hope Robin (the writer) does more stories in this AU.

Please read this series. You’re not gonna regret it. It will MELT your heart. 

Honorable Mentions:

If I Called You Mine

Sail Across the Sky Just to Get to You

Finding Shelter (The Alien Baby Remix)

Say You Do(n’t)

2). The Golden Hour by @goldentruth813​ (sheith)

Summary:  After a space mission failure, Shiro loses his arm and his career. Two years later he's settled into a quiet and simple new life on his farm, but when a beautiful alien crashes in his field, he discovers the answers to his questions—and possibly the keys to his future—will come from the stars.

I’m sure no one, least of all Janel the writer herself, is surprised to see this author featured on this list. For now the 3rd year in a row. WOOOW  👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿 She is the reason I got into shieth, and she just continues to put out amazing conent with them. This story by far has been the best she’s done this year-possibly one of the best ever. 

We have Shiro trying to have a simple life at the farm with his dog and animals. A curious BOM Keith who shakes things up with his boldness/innocence-and questions bound to test blood pressure, especially Shiro’s. Loads of cute moments, loads of funny moments, and also loads of oreos. 

If summary and my thoughts don’t sell you, only one thing will: reading it for yourself.

Honorable mentions:

Two Hearts in Bloom

Mountain Men

Home is in Your Heart

3). Spun like Gold by Neyasochi (sheith)

Summary: Though Shiro is currently operating his fledgling bakery business out of a decrepit food truck he got for cheap in a repossession sale, he dreams of something more: a cozy bakery and cafe on a tree-lined street somewhere, filled with the smell of fresh coffee and sugar glaze instead of diesel. A little money could go a long way to helping him get off the ground-- and luckily, Keith has money to burn.

Or: Keith takes care of Shiro’s financial woes, in exchange for a little sugar.

OMG, OMG, OMG was this story so sweet. Neyasochi already sold me with the baking/baker Shiro trope, but went a step further throwing in sugar-daddy Keith who knows his way around his manic family and cars, but when it comes to asking a cute guy out? What better way to make an impression than becoming his best paying customer?  

Honorable mentions:

oh, devour me

Healing Touch

on your hand of gold 

4). The Destiny You Sold by @tryslora​ (drarry)

Summary: In which Draco knits, Harry makes wands, and things get very tangled up between them.

If there’s one thing I love about fanfics is how they introduce you to tropes you never would consider before. Draco and knitting was a combo I didn’t realize how much I needed until now. And I love the fact knitting played a big part of the accidental bonding. Also loved the fact everyone in their friend group shipped them like crazy. Highly, highly recommend 

5) What’s My Age Again? by @lazywonderlvnd​ (drarry)

Summary: Harry Potter has had enough of pleasing the public, and his reckless tendencies are finally getting out of hand.

The Quidditch World Cup is only a week away; as Captain of the English National Team, Hermione has assured him that his immaturity won’t be tolerated by the Ministry.

And then Malfoy shows up.

(Inspired by the blink-182 song of the same name.)

It’s no secret that I’m such a fangirl of @lazywonderlvnd​. Any drarry story I read, I always love. Last year, I ADORED The Changing Lights, which was one of my favorites last year, and her updating/finishing the story was a massive highlight for me. I thank ya for that. 

This story was honestly refreshing. I’ve grown so used to Harry being responsible, always doing what’s right, that seeing a story where Harry pretty much has his middle finger in the air to “good reputation”, “being responsible,” because as he brought up: “I’m 25. I’ve been fighting all my life. I’ve earned my life to have fun.”

Okay, granted, it wasn’t quite like that but it was along those lines. And I agree. After all he went through, Harry deserves to have fun. He deserves to be reckless and make stupid decisions.

Also, it was such a blast reading a story where Harry is the brat & Draco has to keep him in line. LOVED.

Honorable mentions: 

Inside Your Mind

Aletheia

6). Chocolate and Pastry by agentmoppet, anemonen (drarry)

Summary:  When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected. Harry is struggling with something, pushing it far down inside him where he doesn't have to acknowledge its existence. Draco starts to worry, and then he starts to care, and then... horribly... he starts to fall in love.

Do not let the title fool you like it did me. Title alone, I was thinking it was going to be a fun, fluffy story involving baking, maybe chocolate crafting. However....it was not that at all. It was more. A lot deeper. A lot more angsty. It explored mental health, PTSD and the dangers of loved ones ignoring the signs, and contained an important message:

You can’t love someone out of their illness/disease/ addiction. Which is true and this story showed that. 

7). i’m still here by owedbetter (zutara)

Summary: "You see me."

And somehow, that makes all the difference.

If there’s one of the few good things 2020 has brought, it was Netflix bringing back ATLA to their library. Which in turn ignited my love for zutara & had me drag @kila09​ into that ship. 

This story was just incredible. The way it was written, it really felt like it could have been canon. Deleted scenes that a certain creator didn’t want us to see. The way Zuko and Katara came together, starting from their peaceful friendship after the Southern Raiders episode up, becoming closer along the way. 

I dare y’all to read this and not think OMG...is this secret canon bonus material? I definitely plan to read more by owedbetter. 

8). all the what ifs i never said by rosegardenlake (sheith)

Summary:  Keith is nine when he first notices Shiro. Shiro is gentle and quiet, always keeping to himself. Keith is rough and loud, running wherever his feet will take him, screaming on the top of his lungs into the wind. But despite that, they're a constant throughout each other's lives...if only that could be enough. As they grow, Keith just wants them both to be happy, but instead, he's falling apart.

Rosegardenlake is another sheith writer who I adored last year & adore this year as well. This was a story that I read during the beginning of quarantine-life and when I tell you the number of times Keith’s emotions of loneliness got to me, it’s a big number. 

Keith’s struggle with life after high school, after peaking in school, and his mental health reminded me too much of where I was at 2018, which wasn’t a good year for me at all, especially mentally. So that was triggering but it was also helpful since I saw how far I came. And it was beautiful seeing how far Keith came. 

Also the relationship between Shiro and Keith was just beautiful. It’s very funny how Keith was Shiro’s protector growing up and Shiro became Keith’s later on in life. There’s a chance your heart may be heavy, but will also be so swelled up with feelings these two bring it. 

Honorable mentions:

Where the Light Doesn’t Reach 

9). When Night Comes by Oh_Hey_Tae (BTS; poly ot7)

Summary: Jungkook’s tipsy, but he’s not buzzed enough to miss that he doesn’t recognize any of the four dozen people here. And seeing as his friends aren’t ones to ditch and there’s no way they’d play a prank this mean on him, Jungkook reaches the conclusion that he just walked into a stranger’s very expensive home, uninvited, and started eating their food and petting their well-dressed dog.

(Or: Jungkook shows up to the wrong Halloween party and meets the most powerful family in Seoul.)

I can easily say Oh_Hey_Tae easily one of my favorite BTS fanfic favs. Always come through with the stories, and this one was just amazing. We have Jungkook stumbling into a Halloween story, and soon enters into a intense, insane relationship with all six guys, who are already in a relationship with each other. Oh, and supernatural creatures at that. 

You do see certain relationships are stronger, deeper. For example, a lot of moments between Jin and Jungkook. Vmin has their own story and moments. But it was just so amazing. 

Fair warning. Halfway through, things get darker and Oh_My_Tae really loves playing readers diirty with the angst, but it’s so good. 

10). peace-weaver by magisterpavus (sheith)

Summary: You will be the peace-weaver, his mother told him, smiling though her dark eyes welled with unshed grief. The one who brings two bitter enemies together and ends the bloodshed and death between us, once and for all.

But men will always crave war. The Galra, most of all.

Yet another arranged-marriage AU that I loved. This particular one is well-loved in the sheith fandom. I can definitely say it’s considered one of the classic fanfics that’s been read or shared at one point or another. 

The story itself reminded me a lot of Macbeth, involving murder and dark forces at bay. The dynamics between Shiro and Keith reminded me of Drogo and Daenerys from GOT, one of my fav couples there, which only made it all the more better for me. 

I do credit the author for the creative approach they took with quintessence and Shiro’s role/persona as the Champion

Honorable mentions:

The Boy in the Window 

Sheith Demon/Priest AU

A Matter of Scale

Directive 

Honorable mentions that I seriously wanted to add to the list but this post is already lengthy. All amazing, all greats reads by various writers y’all should check out:

Hold Me Tight, or Don’t by snowfallen (yoonmin with a Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU featuring assassins and hitmen, secret identities, fake marriage, and a lot of smut)

The Prince and Pirate by Maniacani, @nerdherderette​ (drarry with a splash of royalty and pirates. Perfect if you’re needing to fill in any Pirates of the Caribbean or Black Sails cravings)

First Kisses are the Best Ones by SashaDistan (sheith in a 50 First Dates Fusion heartfelt/heart-gutting story)

freely, as men strive for right by @bixgirl1​ (drarry w/Harry explaining the many ways why Draco’s the love of his life. we love to see it)

The Sacrificed by SasuNarufan13 (sasunaru w/ dark fairytale elements similar to Little Red Riding Hood & Beauty and the beast + feat. mpreg)

Chasing Treacle Tart (and Draco Malfoy) by xErised (drarry feat. lunch lady Draco + scheming Harry + loads of fun w/sweets & more)

Red Desert by @beatitudinembty​ (taekook in a unique sci-fi AU; hard to explain but so worth a read

one way ticket to another life by starboykeith (sheith Hades x Persephone background)

Even So by lewilder (zutara; arranged marriage+ language barrier +soft strangers to lovers)

Well, lovely people, there you have it. My top 10 favorite fanfics of the year. I do notice a certain ship shows up a lot on this list, but I wasn’t kidding when I said they took over this year. Still, I tried to mix the list up with other fav ships/fandoms of mine. To the writers who created these incredible stories. I applaud you. I thank you for creating and sharing these wonderful stories. Anyone interested in doing the tag, please do. 

HAPPY NEW YEAR, GUYS

[jinxthequeergirl]

Show Me All Your Scars

David Kessler x Reader

Summary:David sees you for the first time since he's been let out of the hospital and is having a hard time adjusting

Warning: Slight Nsfw

TFB-Somebody Else🎶

~~~~

David's palms were sweaty as he stood outside your apartment door, waiting for you to answer. He hadn't seen you since him and Jack left, they called you every chance they got granted they hadn't forgotten too. 

But seeing you in person was a different story.After everything, adapting to his regular life again was hard. 

 Yet His family suggested it would be good for the both of you, if he came to see you. 

He could hear your hurried footsteps running through your apartment to reach the door, within seconds it flew open. "KESSLER!" You basically tackled him to the ground with your hug. 

It was weird, just like he imagined it would be. Seeing someone from the normal part of your life when things were everything but normal. He thought he was dreaming. 

It was ok though. It was a good dream, one he didn't want to end yet. 

You pulled him into the apartment shutting the door and sitting him on the couch. 

"Thirsty? Still got some Coffee in the pot if you'd like?" 

"Yea That sounds great!" 

He dazed off watching you happily hop into the kitchen while telling him about what you'd been up to since you'd seen him last. 

"What?" You smiled noticing he was staring at you. 

"Nothing...nothing...it's just weird seeing you." You laughed. "A good weird I hope?" 

"Yea It's always good to see you." You smiled and  set a loony toons mug in front of him while you yourself curled up with your mug in hand, He smiled at it. "You still have that thing? God, I gave that to you in 6th grade!" 

You looked at the mug in your hand, it was a small thing decorated all the way around with Rainbow brite Characters. "Of course I do! It's my favorite gift you've ever given me. God knows I almost killed Jack for chipping it." You chuckled sipping from it. 

David stared at you blankly again, He wanted to word vomit everything to you, about Jack and The Wolf, how he's convinced he's gone nuts. 

But at the same time he still wasn't convinced you weren't just another figment of his imagination like jack. 

"David are you sure you're ok? You look..paler than usual." 

"I'm fine y/n-" 

You set your mug on the table and scooted closer to him, placing a hand on his forehead. "You don't feel warm.." 

"Thank you I must have forgotten you were a registered nurse." He said sarcastically as you pulled away.

"Very Funny Kessler." You punctuated your sentence by hitting him on the shoulder. "But and to be honest...It looks like you've seen a ghost." You went quiet and got excited suddenly. "You didn't gain some superpower in the hospital that allowed you to see ghost did you?"  

He laughed and shook his head. "Then what is up with you? You can tell me anything!...like ok! Remember how you told me that when you were 15 you stole some nudie mags, but you were so nervous that you grabbed the wrong kind so you had to use the advertising in it instead." 

"Shut up! I can't believe you remember that!" He said pushing you so you fell back onto the couch laughing. "You cut out the girls from the ads and pasted them to a different piece of paper-" you were cut off by your own laugh and he hit you with a pillow, you kept laughing as he knelt above you hitting you.

"Not a soul knew about it, not even Jack!" You said swatting the pillow away. "So c'mon Kessler what's eating away at your pretty little brain." You joked poking his Forehead. 

So much, so much was swimming through his head in that moment. He stared at you, despite the messy state you were in you still looked unreal to him, he was certain he would be waking up in the hospital any moment. 

He leaned down quickly catching your lips in his, testing his theory. Your hands gripped the collar of his sweater and shifted positions, his hands fumbled for the buttons on your flannel as he kissed you. Your hands found their way to his hair and slipped down his collar to roam his back. 

Once he had your shirt open his fingers ginger trailed along your skin sending a shiver through your body. "David.." He hummed in response but kept attacking your neck and collar with kisses 

"David!" He stopped and looked up at you. "What's gotten into you?" 

"Sorry! It's Nothing! I just…"

You forced him to look at you. "Dave…" 

He groaned and climbed off from top of you and sat back.  "This is gonna sound crazy!" He said, throwing his hands up in the air. 

"That's ok, I'm willing to listen no matter how crazy." You scooted closer, sitting so you faced him. "It's been hard since the accident...ever since I was put in the hospital things have been different...I see things...like I've seen Jack and other horrifying things and.." 

"You were afraid that I might not be real either?" 

He nodded his head. 

You raked your fingers through his hair and he shut his eyes luling his head back into your touch. 

"I have no idea what you're going through...and I will not act like I do."  

He looked at you. With a soft expression. 

"But I know that this," you pointed to yourself then him, then the entirety of your apartment.

"Is real." 

You smiled and took his hand and put them on your still bare chest above your heart. 

"See, Real." He maneuvered so he was facing you, your skin was hot against his cold hand and he could feel your heart beating. 

 "This?" You leaned forward and kissed him again. "Very real." You said softly before he leaned forward and continued the kiss, he held your face in his hands as you moved your lips together 

"Show me all your scars?…"

 you whispered against his lips, he swallowed and pulled away to pull off his sweater,tossing it on the closest piece of furniture. 

You peppered kisses all over his wounds, he sucked in a sharp breath as you did so. 

"Does it hurt?" 

"No...no...Its nice." He chuckled, you smiled and kissed him, you pulled your flannel off throwing it somewhere in the room and David pulled you close and turned you over so your back was against the sofa. 

"There's so much I want to tell you from the nigh Jack died on...It's just…" He spoke softly and in between kisses. 

"It's ok, if it's too much to bare right now, you can just focus on this, nothing else. Ok?" You suggested, tangling your fingers in his hair. He nodded and went back to kissing down your body and eventually working your jeans. "Did I tell you I've been In love with you since High School?" 

He stopped and looked up at you. "Jack promised to take it to the grave, That's the one promise he actually kept to me…since all the pressure's on you, now its on me, now you known." you chuckled. That caught him off guard.

"I also thought you should know this is one of my biggest fantasies." You wiggled your eyebrows and laughed, you stopped immediately and yelped when He swifty freed you from your jeans. "Mine too."  he winked before going down on you. 

"Oh Fuc- David!"

[possiblypeachy]

Helloo, so i loooved your last sam drake fic. & I wanted to ask you if you could write a really angsty fanfic about sam with a younger female reader, like 20 years younger (she would be 23) ? I know its a huge age gap so if that makes you uncomfortable you can leave it out but make it hella angsty still (with a fluffy ending) ? thanks in advance ❤

btw im an infp too ;)

infps rise up!! 

thank you muchly for the request! i had to make some interesting google searches for this and i always count that as a win in my book!

y’know when your brain feel like a static TV? yeah, that happened to mine while writing this so i apologise in advance if this is in no way what you asked for :( HOWEVER i do hope you enjoy nonetheless! i do love sam; he’s just a little bastard :,)

warning: this details a heavy injury + a hospital trip so please don’t read on it that makes you feel horrible or anything! also, the reader is younger than same (as requested) but it’s not a like huge aspect of the plot.

if others like this too, feel free to request something from me! 

― ❊ ―

You had always been interested in the hidden corners of the world. For a species that boasted about being the most intelligent, humans knew so achingly little about the world in which they lived. So, when you decided adventure called to you more than any kind of degree could, you put out a few ads in a couple of places and a certain Drake wrote back, enlisting your help with… artefact recovery. You hadn’t expected so many gunfights or bruises or those dreaded mosquitos but you certainly didn’t regret the job, coming away with a few pirate-branded gold coins and a 40-something-year-old partner-in-crime.

You probably could’ve set up for life with those coins alone-- lived a quiet life in a suburb somewhere, joined a dating app and found the love of your life, adopted a puppy, maybe-- but when Sam had called you a month or so after your Madagascan escapade, that same excitement in his voice that you’d become so accustomed to, you didn’t even need a few days to consider before asking him when the next flight was.

Now, to say that going on this rodeo was a good idea could’ve been a lie; you were still young and sprightly, and many would beg (if they even got the chance) for you to reconsider-- oh, but you have such a long life ahead of you, why are you taking it for granted?

Screw them. You’d seen more beautiful things in the past year than they would in their entire lives. So what if you had a couple of scars and scrapes to prove it; it simply adds character.

Well… perhaps this particular scrape would change your perspective on that.

You and Sam had encountered one of those forsaken puzzle things; a series of statues and corresponding paintings behind them. Each held a dagger and held their hand out to shake, a conniving little smirk etched into the grey stone. You had been so achingly confident of the answer-- nothing had gone wrong so far and you were feeling chipper. So, when you called out to Sam that you’d solved it before him, that cocky little quirk to your lips that made him huff out a laugh and shake his head, you didn’t expect his face to drop so quickly, eyes darting from your smile to your abdomen.

There was a sudden, burning pain, and you lurched forwards toward the statue, placing one hand on its shoulder to keep yourself upright. Everything seemed to blur when you looked down, the jewelled dagger now withdrawing from your gut covered in blood. The statue looked as if it had never moved, if you discounted the bloodied weapon it held and the small pool that had accumulated at the base of it. Your free hand, shaking, came down to try to stop yourself from bleeding, fingers almost immediately red and warm. “Sam--” His name was coughed out, the tension it caused making you cry out in pain.

He had seen your smile drop, your eyes widen, the blood bloom across your shirt. He had watched the statue withdraw, that grin it held now dangerous. Oh, fuck. This couldn’t be happening. Sam had promised everyone-- he had promised you that nothing like this would happen. Of course he had fucked it. 

He was already there. He had been there immediately but, beyond the pain and shock, you hadn’t realised. “Holy shit! (Name)?” His hand came to your shoulder and, at the contact, you nearly crumpled, as if his touch had brought you back to reality. Unfortunately, along with that came the more acute realisation of how much fucking pain you were in.

“Oh, fuck! God--” You curled over and vomited. Fuck, it hurt. The movement made you grab at your wound more, muscles trying to tense but just searing with pain instead. Lifting your arm to wipe your mouth felt so much more difficult, lethargy already settling in it seemed.

Sam muttered something to himself, tucking his shoulder under yours and using his arm to help keep you propped up. “We’ll be alright-- you’ll be alright. We just have to get back to the car and--” he cut off, swearing, at least you thought; everything sounded like it was underwater-- muffled and slowed. 

You let your head drop a little, face contorted in pain with each step you took. This wasn’t supposed to happen-- this was never supposed to happen. These trips were meant to be all beautiful vistas and treasure. You didn’t mind the occasional gunfight and, while being punched square in the nose didn’t feel great, you’d let it happen more if only to walk into more of these preserved pieces of history all over the globe. But, this? Fuck this. You should’ve been more prepared.

“Everyone said--” you groaned again and, when you were finally able to muster the strength to look at Sam, he glanced down at you with such panic in his eyes that it almost made your chest churn more than your stomach, “They said this shit would be bad for me.” The laugh you gave was painful and you regretted it immediately, stumbling over your own feet when you tried to hold your abdomen-- as if that would provide some kind of relief. It did not. 

Sam furrowed his brows, moving you slightly to make sure you didn’t slip from his grip. “No, no-- it’s alright! You still got life in you.” He tried to laugh but it didn’t sound like him and that just made you spiral a little faster. “There are still places that are out there waiting for you, okay?” Sam’s voice was rushed, like he was torn between trying to comfort you and just trying to get you both the fuck out of here. 

The light of the outside was blinding, the sun bright and unyielding overhead. Sam fumbled with the keys in his back pocket and then there were the telltale beeps of a car being unlocked. The sound made him flinch but you were beyond that, wanting more than anything to just sleep. It was hard to focus on anything else, actually.

Sam bundled you into the back seat and you groaned at the way your body had to twist and curve into the backseat. Every breath hurt; it was like reliving the injury each time you inhaled. Your hand was blood-covered now but your shaking had died down. It took too much energy to shake-- Hell, it took way too much to even lift your eyelids again after each blink. 

When the driver’s door slammed, you jolted slightly-- like someone had dragged you out of the very early stages of sleep. “Sam,” you began, voice quiet; it was as though you were in another universe entirely, “are we gonna…” you trailed off, forgetting where you were. It was strange: you felt like the pain was subsiding. It was almost… peaceful. 

The car lurched into motion and you saw him glance at you through the rearview mirror. You thought he might’ve been saying something to you, his free hand reaching back to get your attention. Black encroached on your vision and your head lolled backwards briefly but you pulled it forward again soon after as though it were attached to some kind of bungee rope. Is this what dying felt like? 

Maybe you were okay with this. It was calm-- quiet, even. It was almost like the pain had become an afterthought-- a dull thrum in your abdomen. You would miss this, though: the adventures. You would miss the fact that everything seemed more colourful in other countries. You would miss the sweet tang of sea air and how free you felt on the open sea. Despite the blur in your vision, you tried to focus on Sam and his helpless mumbling. Tears welled in your eyes. God, you would miss him too. 

The next time you blinked, your eyes stayed closed.

---

A steady beeping woke you up. That and a horrible white light beating against your eyelids. You tried to groan but even that was difficult with how… disused your voice felt. A chair creaked to your right and then--

“(Name)?” 

It was him.

“Sam…” Trying to sit up was like an instinct but a hand came to your shoulder to keep you down. It was then that you finally opened your eyes, pupils struggling against the light. “Did you find the treasure?”

He breathed out a laugh-- almost like relief. “If you count shitty hospital coffee and the most uncomfortable chair ever as treasure, then yes.”

Your brows furrowed. “Hospital?” The strain on your voice made you cough. This was a bad reflex on your part. An ache flared up again in your lower stomach, and your arm flew there to support the injury. Now, everything was starting to come back. “Ah, shit. I remember. God.”

Beside you, his lips pursed. “Yeah. Almost got bested by a statue, honey.”

You gave him a look and he smiled. Despite his words, the normalcy of it all was comforting. “I may be bed-ridden but I’ll still hit you, old man.” There it was: that smile of yours. He struggled to even feign offence with how relieved he felt at seeing it. In fact, if your eyes weren’t deceiving you, he might’ve welled up a little. “Sam?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” He rubbed his face before leaning onto your bed. “I was just worried, is all.”

He looked like he had done more than worried; the dark around his eyes told you of that. Quiet fell over you for a few moments and Sam took to rubbing your leg over the array of hospital blankets piled atop you. It was nice, comforting, and for a time you just allowed yourself to be. 

That was until he swallowed loudly-- nervously-- and withdrew his hand. “(Name), I, uh--” he cleared his throat-- not because he needed to but just so he could have a couple more seconds to think about what he was going to say, “I’ve been thinking about what happened, and I know that you’d disagree, but I’m not sure you should--”

You groaned as you shifted yourself up the bed, cutting him off. You knew what he was going to say: that you shouldn’t come on the next trip with him. That would turn into only the occasional call between the two of you, asking about his most recent escapades-- if had any spots open on the crew next time, to which he would decline. Then, there would only be texts-- a barren waste of white space between messages and timestamps that began to highlight the weeks and months between each text. “Don’t, Sam.” His brows furrowed and you pointed a finger at him, accusing. “I know what you’re going to say and I’m not going to listen to you.”

He pursed his lips briefly then pinched the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger. “You could’ve died. You can’t just fuckin’ die--” he leant forward so his ranting wouldn’t disturb any other hospital dwellers, “You can’t die yet; you’re-- what?-- twenty-three?”

“Oh, fuck off, Sam! I’m not a child; I can handle myself!”

In one gesture towards your injury, he had messed up. “Obviously fuckin’ not!”

Silence. Your mouth was agape and he flinched back immediately. For how many times people told Sam to think before he spoke, he hadn’t seemed to have learnt. When the words settled in, you leant away from him, back into the cushions behind you. “I think you should go.”

He blinked once. And, then again. “What?”

You couldn’t even look at him. “Get out. I’ll call a nurse if i need help since I obviously can’t look after myself--”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that, (Name)--”

“How did you fucking mean it then, Sam?” He stood from the chair and it creaked-- the only noise in the room. You didn’t even want to give him the chance to give an excuse. “Or, am I too much of a child to understand what you mean?” In the middle of his pacing, he turned to face you, simply staring despite your ceaseless ranting. “Sorry that I’m such a huge fucking inconvenience to you! It’s not like the same kind of shit has ever happened to you or anything, huh?” He watched as your eyes began to well, face etched with frustration and betrayal, words spat out of your mouth like they put a bad taste there.

He had to cut you off or else you would carry on; you shouldn’t feel like this right after… everything that happened. God, he was such a dick. He shouldn’t have brought this up-- not now at least-- and now look at you: almost crying because of him in a hospital bed thank to stab wound that you got because of him and-- “I don’t want you to get hurt again because I fuckin’ care about you, (Name), okay?” It was his turn to rant now and your turn to stare at him. “And-- and, I have no idea what I would do with myself if you-- if you had fuckin’--” the noise he made was a mix between a sigh and growl, like he was annoyed at himself, then he leant against the end of your bed. A few moments passed; you didn’t know if you were supposed to say something to him during this or not but all you could fathom doing was to just stare at him, dumbfounded. Then, he breathed out a simple: “I’m sorry. For being a dick.”

You swallowed, gaze flickering away from him briefly. Then, you huffed out a laugh-- a terrible mix of amusement and disbelief. “Glad you can recognise it, Sam.” He blinked at you, then shook his head; that certainly wasn’t the response he expected. Something more biting-- venomous--perhaps, but not that. You gestured back to the seat that he had pulled up beside you and, with some degree of caution, he sat down again. You held out a hand and he took it, rubbing a thumb over the underside of it, touch light on your skin. “You can’t prove that this isn’t the painkillers speaking but,” it hurt to lean closer to him but you thought he was worth it-- even with the deer-in-headlights look he had, “I care about you too.”

It was then that he smiled-- grinned, even-- and you finally heard him laugh again. “Oh, I’m definitely holding that against you, (Name).”

“Will you hold this against me, too?” You pulled your hand away from his, only to place it on his face instead, thumb tracing a line over his cheek. His eyes flickered down to your lips, obviously unsure on if he should close the gap, that worry still bubbling in his lower stomach that he was daydreaming again. So, you did instead, the ache in your gut less pressing than your want to kiss him. It was short but to say it didn’t make your heart soar and a faint colour flush Sam’s ears would be a lie. You hand stayed there after, fingers reluctant to move away-- to lose him; the thought scratched at the back of your mind.

He let out a sigh of relief-- a little ‘hoo’ noise coming with it. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted that.”

[deaf-bakugou]

Do you consider yourself deaf or Deaf?

Thank you for this question! I consider myself big D Deaf! And I have for at least 6 years now. I didn't start out that way though. And I am thrilled to have this chance to talk a little bit about my story and how I finally accepted myself and my disability.

Some of you may know that I was actually born hearing. The doctors think I started losing my hearing when I was around ten years old due to an Autoimmune disease. Unfortunatly... no one noticed until I was quite progressed. I was 14 when I went to the children's hospital and got my first set of hearing aids. I hated them. I hated the doctors. I hated myself...

At the time I refused to identify as anything. I wasn't deaf. I wasn't hard of hearing. I tried to force myself to believe I was still a perfectly normal teenager with no issues. After all, I wasn't struggling in school. I was a straight A student with a 98 GPA. So I prided myself on refusing to wear the hearing aids and refusing any help at all. In the summer between 9th and 10th grade I suffered another attack and lost a significant amount more. I tried to ignore it but quickly discovered that it wasn't working. I was angry. Why was I still losing my hearing? Why was it progressive?

...

My Audiologist sat me down and said to me, "you will probably be profoundly Deaf one day. Hearing aids or a cochlear won't help you then. You need to start preparing for your future. It will be easier now."

I was devastated.

Something a lot of Deaf positivity blogs or people won't tell you, is that it is OKAY and peflrfectly natural to be devastated when you, as a hearing person, learn about your hearing loss. It is often described as grief. People often report going through the five stages of grief in regards to the loss of a sense. It is dehibilitating, life changing, the death of who you were before. But. The chance to come out of that grief as someone new, and just as amazing as the last person. But I digress.

I started to research. Intensly, about what I could do. But only because I did start to notice my grades falling. I was missing information, and I didn't even know it. I wore my hearing aids for the first time outside of the office or my house. And it was... life altering. I paused and I stared at the tree in my yard. I had forgot their were birds who lived their. Birds who sang on these early mornings. My mother cried. But not for the same reason that I did. She was thrilled that my hearing aids had given her back her "hearing child" I really struggled with that. With who I was. Because even with my hearing aids, I am not perfectly hearing capable. But I tried. For her.

Now here is a part that I am a bit ashamed of... I actually knew several Deaf people. I was friends with them. I already had a basic grasp of beginners sign language. But they worked so hard to communicate with me... that I barely put in the work to communicate with them. It was still more than most people put in, so they considered me a close friend and Ally! It wasn't until I was battling with it myself that, I had never been a true friend to them at all. So at 14 years old, I threw myself into learning the language. Luckily my school had an ASL class. And I had known the teacher since I was 10. She had taught me the basics when I befriended her Deaf students and had taught me the basics of Japanese from her home country as well. (Unfortunatly I studied ASL so hard I lost basically all Japanese.)

Suddenly I was learning words i had never known before. I learned who I was. I was Hard of Hearing. My girlfriend at the time actually knew more sign language than I did. Her mom had been a teacher for elementary school Deaf students. She joined the classes with me, and together we learned who I was supposed to be. I settled in and learned about the different terms and became comfortable with who I was. I learned how to ask for aid though I was sometimes still embarrassed about my struggles. When it came time for college, I enrolled in a fully Deaf collage. I intended to continue my language education so that I was fully fluent by the time that I was fully and profoundly Deaf.

That was when I truly met my people. These people were truly and unashamedly, big D Deaf. I started to settle in, truly immerse myself in the culture, I stopped wearing my hearing aids while I was on campus, why did I need to? The end of my first year there... I realized that I was... culturally Deaf. Not only was I hard of hearing now, but I belonged here with all of these people. I was big D Deaf too. And I wasn't ashamed about it. My still girlfriend, often acted as an interpreter for me when I needed that aid, and she was also immersed with me though she went to a different school.

It was a long journey to find my home. But I did. Eventually I came home.

The next year, I woke up on an early February morning and I knew something was wrong. I wouldn't walk. The world was spinning. I was vomiting from the nausea. And my ears were ringing so so much. I ended up in hospital after my mother had to come and get me. It turned out that I had another Autoimmune attack that had severely impacted my inner ears. My hearing had once again taken a severe loss. I was now what was legally defined as deaf in the medical terminology. Without my hearing aids I could hear very little. Almost nothing in my left ear except sirens and other equally loud noises if they were closer to me. In my right ear? If you were shouting at me from right beside my head, I could still occasionally understand your sentences. But really, all verbal communication was now dependent on my hearing aids whereas before, under the right circumastances, I did okay. It would take me months in a wheelchair to learn to walk again. And only a few weeks to adjust to my new hearing levels. I had already been adjusting and preparing for something similar for over 6 years now. I went back to school I graduated with 2 associates and only have a bit more to complete my bachelors. (But money can be hard to come by for classes so that took a pause while I worked) I am still active in the Deaf community. I know what it is like to be both, and to be inbetween. I understand and I know how to help. I primarily focus on education. Of the Deaf community on their rights. (Literally my job before Trump cut the grant funding) i help hearing people learn about Deafness, and I help new deaf or hard of hearing individuals come to terms with the struggle. My journey will never be over. And an identity can be ever changing. Fluid, as mine was, a glass of water that slowly drained to the eventual bottom as I invested the information. This is true for all labels and identification.

I married my girlfriend, who has now been my wife for a while. The same one who learned ASL with me and held my hand at the start of my identity crisis. A support system that helped me in the way I aim to help others. I didn't always belong where I am now. But I do now. Not through some force or illness that was out of my control. But because I chose to find a place where I could belong.

[newmih]

“I never thought I'd be so happy to find you”

Newt x reader female! minho x reader (friends)

Bonne lecture! 

Y/N had been a runner for some time. However, she was still blaming herself for somehow forcing Minho's hand to become one.  It was tiring, dangerous and as if that wasn't enough, she was away from Newt all day long.  

Granted, they weren't dating, but who could blame her for finding the blonde attractive. Probably Gally... While she was in her thoughts, a noise woke her up: "Beep... Beep... Beep...". Her watch had just sounded 6:45 pm. It took Y/N a few seconds to realize the seriousness of the situation. The doors would close in a little more than 10 minutes.  She then began to accelerate the step. She didn't want to get stuck and have to spend a night inside the labyrinth when no one had managed to come back, finally in one piece.  They had all been killed by grievers . At the mere thought of them, a shiver ran down her back, due to her disgust and fear of monsters but also a sign of a bad omen.

There were only three corridors left to reach the exit when Y/N heard a noise. One of the most horrible sounds a runner has to hear while inside the walls. The doors were already starting to close. She started to run even faster, but because of a root that was lying around, she stumbled, lost her balance and fell. Still with the same eagerness, she got up. No time to insult her, she would do it another day. She finally got there, the last straight line, she put all the strength she had left.

"Y/N!!! Come on you gotta hurry! -Fucking Y/N we can't lose you!" The shouts of his friends encouraged him to continue.

When she finally arrived at the doors, the opening was already too narrow. If she was going to die, Y/N would rather do it fighting than being crushed. The last thing she saw between the doors was Newt's tearful face. It was the first time she'd seen him cry and she prayed it wouldn't be the last, though she much preferred it when he laughed.

The young woman sat down on the ground, tired from her run, and closed her eyes. She didn't open them again when she heard a scream from a non-human thing or when she heard metallic footsteps. She only opened them again when she heard someone shouting her name. She stood there in silence until she heard that cry again.

"Y/N! I don't know if you can hear me but if you can hear me run! Run and don't look back! And don't forget, run or die! "

Minho was always there to reassure her. The glader got up with difficulty and walked, she walked until she lost it. Suddenly, her shoe remained stuck to the ground and in spite of all the force that she put there, she did not succeed in removing it. She wondered then about the origin of what could stick her like that and had her answer by hearing another scream. Much more powerful and strong than the last time. It was getting closer. When she finally heard it in the next hallway, she tried to find a hiding place by looking around. Walls, walls, vines and more walls surrounded her. Her gaze returned to the vines and an idea crossed her mind. It was enough that she hid behind it while waiting for the griever to pass. She tried again to untie her shoe but it was a waste of time. Only one choice was offered to her now, well two: either she remained there and died, or she removed her foot of her shoe and had a little more chances to leave. After reflection, the second option was the best. However, as soon as she removed her foot from her boot, she realized that this was also a very bad idea. She retched violently because of the smell. But there was no time to vomit, she rushed to her hiding place and entered just as the monster was passing by in the hallway.From where she was, she saw its paws passing in front of her.

She had to find a better hiding place and for that, she had to get out of there.  She took her courage in both hands and got up. She approached her shoe and pulled with all her strength. She fell on her buttocks but managed to get it off. She was about to burst with joy when she felt a liquid running down her hair. She looked up to see a clawed man between the walls. She stood up in a panic and ran to escape the beast that was already on her tail. As she turned to the right, she tried to put her shoe back on, which she was still holding in her hand. Bad idea, she fell back on the ground and took the opportunity to put her shoes on.

When she finished, and stood up, she realized that she could only use a dead end because a second  griever had joined the chase. She tried not to show her fear. This was what the creators wanted so she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. The creatures had slowed their steps as if to taunt her. Trying everything, she began to climb the wall. The ivy burned her hands, but she kept going anyway. The wall was actually a low wall and she reached the top faster than she thought possible.  

Y/N then prayed that the griever could not climb the walls, but apparently his prayers were not heard as the first one began to follow her. When she saw this, she turned around and despite her fatigue ran until she almost fell. She was now in front of an abyss and could not turn back. She could already see her life passing by when an idea came to her mind. Taking what little courage she had left, she turned to her attackers and shouted: "Hey, you grey scrap heap! Come over here if you're looking for me!"

And as if they had a conscience and had heard the young woman's call, they moved so fast that Y/N was at first surprised and then a smile settled on her face. Before one of them could touch her, she threw herself to the side, burning a rib as she passed. They had no time to brake and fell. She dragged herself to the edge to see their bodies turning into dots and then disappearing from her sight.

Finally, she turned on her back with a grimace and rested at last. After a few minutes of silence, she shouted a cry of joy. She had succeeded. The sun was starting to rise and she was still alive.

                                                     ...

Y/N may have managed to survive the night, but she was terribly tired. Only fear had kept her going until now. Yet she still had to find her way back. She was hungry, she felt dirty, she was hurt and she needed to hear his voice. She started walking again, dragging her feet.  She didn't even know what she was doing, she was completely lost. She had gone through the labyrinth in length and breadth, it had almost no secret for her. She kept on going anyway, the terror of having to spend a night inside again pushed her to continue.

She didn't know how long she had been looking for the glade, but it seemed like hours. Y/N was beginning to lose hope that she would ever find her way out when she recognized the root that had caused her to fall the day before. She breathed a sigh of relief, thanked the heavens and then, true to her promise, pointed her fingers at the plant. She shouted all sorts of insults for having made her spend the night in the labyrinth. She was so concentrated on her task that she did not hear the footsteps behind her.

"Y/N?"

The young woman was startled and turned around quickly to find Minho a few steps away from her. She ran towards him and jumped into his arms, so happy was she to find her friend.

"My god! You're fucking alive! You're still alive! You did it! We thought we would never see you again! How did you do? -I ran like you shouted at me last night. Thank you because I think I would have died without your wise counsel. Although you didn't exactly make me feel better.

He smiled and put her back down on the floor.

"Come on, let's get back to the glade. We definitely need to break the news to the others."

Y/N followed him without answering but suddenly she collapsed to the ground. Tiredness got the better of her and the knowledge that everything would be all right for her finished her off. Minho's worried face appeared above her and without her having to say a word, he stooped down and took her in his arms.  

The rest of the way went on without a word. Y/N had fallen asleep. Once they arrived at the glade, the Asian went directly to the infirmary, ignoring the questions of the other gladers.

[...]

When Y/N finally woke up, she found a blond man drooling on her hand. She thought the scene was cute and wanted to stay there and watch him for a while longer, but he finally woke up. The young woman saw at first a gleam of incomprehension passing in the glance of Newt then he made a grimace while rubbing his face. This one took advantage of it to wipe discreetly the hands on the sheet.

He finally looked her in the eye and asked:

"How do you feel? -Like someone who just spent a night awake. You know the grievers aren't so bad, I could almost adopt one, almost.  "

The desperate look that her friend gave her was understandable. By dint of hanging out with Minho, he had ended up rubbing off on her. The blond repeated his question with a more serious and worried tone. Then Y/N decided to tell him the truth.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to be back on the block." Then taking courage she added: "To find you."

His last sentence took Newt unprepared and he turned into a fish. His head made her laugh which caused him a violent coughing fit. Pulling himself together quickly, he brought a glass of water to the young woman.

"You must have caught a cold or something. It gets cold at night in the maze." He paused and Y/N thought for a moment that he was going to dodge the conversation that was to take place. "I'm glad to have you back too. The truth is, I don' t know if I would have survived losing you."

This time, it was Y/N's turn to be speechless. She would never have believed that Newt cared so much about her. Newt continued to speak without noticing that the girl he loved had come closer to him. After having understood that nobody was immortal and that death could touch anyone at any time, he had decided to confess everything to the one of his heart.

"... I saw you and I thought you were beautiful right away. I wanted to get closer to you but Minho was already there. You became very close very quickly so I thought... I thought you were dating. Because you are both my friends, I didn't dare to tell you.  It would have been really horrible of me to..." His tirade was cut off by a pair of soft lips on hers. Surprised at first, he didn't respond immediately, but eventually, he let go.

The two finally broke apart due to the lack of air and Newt rested his forehead on Y/N's. They smiled at each other. They smiled at each other. The silence was comfortable, no one needed to talk, that was it. They loved each other and they would never let go.

[majesticmarais]

Best Years | JJ Maybank

this is my first outer banks imagine so i hope y’all like it and will send in more :)) thanks to @ijustreallylovethem for the request!

1k words

Warnings: none!

i’m a bit rusty since i haven’t written in forever but i hope it’s not too bad!!

-

There was a knock on your window, making you jump up from your lying down position, rushing to open the curtain. Jj, the last person you wanted to see, was standing there, giving you a small wave.

“Can you open it?” he asked, his voice muffled as he pointed at the bottom of the window.

You sighed but reluctantly obliged, pulling the window open to hear Jj more clearly.

“I wanna talk,” he said simply, not continuing until he heard a response fall from your lips.

“I have nothing to say,” you replied bluntly, not changing the expression on your face to reveal what you were really feeling.

“Well I do,” he told you. “Can I come in?”

You moved over without answering, leaving room for Jj to crawl through your window and into your bedroom, something he had done many times back when you guys were together. Now it just felt weird. You didn’t feel the same joy you once felt, you just felt sad, and angry.

Jj sat on the edge of your bed, his blue eyes glancing up at you as he seemed to be searching for the exact right words to say to you. Truthfully, he didn’t really know what the perfect words were, so he just went with the first thing that came to mind.

“I want you back, y/n,” he blurted out, no sugarcoating.

“Jj,” you replied, your expression stoic, disguising the shock you really felt.

“I mean it,” he insisted. “I know I wasn’t the best to you, and you deserved so much more than me. But this time I’ll do better, I know it.”

“And what about all those other girls you were seeing?” you asked.

You had seen Jj around with lots of other girls, all of them hanging off him, laughing too loud at everything he said. As much as you hated seeing it, in a small town it was hard to avoid. All you could do was pretend you didn’t see it, or at least that it wasn’t bothering you.

“I was just filling a void, y/n,” he said. The sound of your name coming from his lips making you want to cave in. “I was just wasting my time because I tried to find people that reminded me of you, anyone who could be even remotely close.”

“But I didn’t,” he added, after being met by your silence. “I promise, y/n, I’ll make it up to you. All of it. I want to be there for you, I want to be the one you love. I know you gave me everything, and I took it for granted. Just please let me have the chance to show you what you deserve.”

“I don’t know, J,” you sighed. “You really hurt me.”

“I know,” he said quietly, his eyes glued to the floor, unable to look at you. “But I swear I’ll make up for all of your tears, I’ll make you laugh, I’ll do everything for you.”

“I think you should go,” you muttered.

His gaze finally lifted to meet yours, his eyes filled with tears at the sound of your response.

“W-what?” he stuttered, a tear spilling down his cheek.

“I know I’m gonna make the wrong decision if you stay,” you told him. “So you should go.”

*

Jj held you in his arms, carrying you home from the beach, your eyes struggling to stay open.

“I’m so sorry,” you said for what felt like the millionth time that night.

You hadn’t meant to get that drunk, but one drink turned into way more than that and suddenly you were barely able to stand.

“It’s okay baby,” Jj said accidentally, not meaning to call you that like he always did.

“What did you say?” you asked, looking up at him despite the fact that you saw two of him.

“Nothing,” he said quickly.

“Jj, I think I’m gonna puke,” you said bluntly. He rushed to a bush, holding your hair back as you puked in the bush, feeling slightly better.

“I’m so disgusting I’m so sorry,” you cried, wiping the tears that formed in your eyes as you fumbled to try to stand up again.

“You’re not disgusting,” he said quietly, almost a whisper, “You’re beautiful.”

“No, I’m not,” you laughed.

“I want to do that for you forever, y/n. Hold your hair back, carry you, take care of you, hold your hand until we’re old, when we have kids and then grandkids,” he said.

“Me too,” you said, the alcohol in your system getting rid of all the inhibitions you had.

“Really?” he asked, trying to contain his smile.

“Yeah. J baby,” you sighed. “I love you so much, it’s so hard to be without you, but I thought I was smart by not taking you back.”

“I won’t hurt you again, y/n. I’ll make the rest of your life the best years you’ve had,” he gushed. “I want us to be us again, doing everything together. I want to make everything up to you, and be as good as you were to me when I was shitty to you.”

“I want that too,” you said, your eyes welling up with tears. “Let’s talk when I’m sober, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You reached up, cupping his face as your pressed your lips against his, something you had been longing for ever since you guys broke up.

“Oh my god,” you said, eyes wide as you covered your mouth. “I totally taste like vomit.”

“I don’t care,” Jj said, laughing at your reaction. “Let’s get you home.”

He picked you back up, walking to your house. He brought you to your room, soflty putting you down as he pulled the blanket over you. He went to your desk, grabbing makeup remover as he gently took it off for you, remembering all the times you said you couldn’t go to sleep with makeup still on.

“I love you,” you smiled. “Thank you.”

“No,” he said. “Thank you, y/n, for another chance. I won’t let you down.”

[siswritesyanderes]

omg could you p l e as e write that no-nonsense reader that's a literature junkie with a yandere percy weasley that absolutely adores how she corrects his love letters and grades them??? pretty please, with a cherry on top?

Initially, he had sat at your table in the library for two quite pragmatic reasons: because you were generally unobtrusive as you read, and because sitting next to another person meant that when people inevitably bothered him for homework answers, he could make the excuse that he didn’t want to be noisy and bother the person beside him. Those were the only reasons, at first.

After that, he supposed it was a matter of habit; if he didn’t see you at the usual table, he always wandered the library to find where you were sitting, and seat himself the usual distance of one seat away from you. That was the pull of routine, though, he reasoned; you had proven yourself a nice, quiet study partner, so of course he sought you out. There was no reason to sentimentalize the fact that he was drawn to you.

Then came the day a boy from Percy’s Transfiguration class asked to copy his notes. Demanded, really, with the excuse that he had missed class because he was ill. (Granted, Percy didn’t doubt the truth of this, so much. He just didn’t hand over his notes lightly.) When Percy suggested that he speak to McGonagall and get the information from her, the boy merely doubled down on his excuse, this time describing his illness (and the color and consistency of his vomit) graphically enough that Percy was, at a point, prompted to say:

“Thank you for that factoid; not at all disgusting. Anything else that will make me nauseous?”

“Nauseated,” you interjected suddenly.

“What?”

“I believe you meant ’nauseated’. ’Nauseous’ describes the stimulus, not the reaction. A nauseous smell will make you feel nauseated. If you yourself are nauseous, then you are causing nausea in someone else. Also, you’ve misused factoid.”

Percy blinked. “Have I?”

A crisp nod. “It means something that resembles a fact but is not; note the suffix ‘oid’, as used in ‘humanoid’. I suppose you aren’t entirely misusing it if you meant to imply that you didn’t believe he was telling the truth, but that wasn’t the impression I’d gotten. Also, it would be more fitting to just call it a lie, in that case; the connotations are different.”

In that moment, he felt inexcusably stupid for not having spoken to you sooner. He knew that some of his peers were clever; there was a whole House for those who valued cleverness, after all. And he knew that some of his peers were probably smarter than him; statistically, they had to be. But…well, he liked to learn. Being taught new things he might never have otherwise known (like definitions of commonly misused words) felt different from being corrected on any old homework assignment. And the frank, casual way you had said it was just so terribly attractive and seemed to imply that there was plenty more where that came from.

Like you had answers to questions he didn’t even know to ask.

He paid more attention to you, from then on.

It was honestly distracting. Just committing to listening to you speak, in class and to your classmates, had been expanding his vocabulary little by little; he often found himself jotting down words that you used, approximating the spelling as best he could, to look up later.

Not just words- facts.

Weird, obscure things that you would bring up with minimal prompting, about the etymology of the word “defenestration” or the statistical likelihood of dying from an incorrectly brewed potion.

And sometimes you were just smiling, or just soberly nodding in agreement to one of your potions partner’s many venting sessions, and as the days passed he became entranced with that, too. All of your little moments and expressions and words seemed to drag him deeper and deeper, until it became unbearable not to say anything.

He wrote out a letter explaining his affection; it was better than telling you in person, because in a letter he could plan and proofread. He spent two days poring over his own wording to be sure that he’d avoided any mistakes, and then he slipped the parchment into your bag. His heart beating in his throat.

The next time he sat with you in the library, you set a folded parchment down in front of him. He couldn’t breathe for a moment, but when he unfolded it, he saw his own handwriting and his own words.

With things crossed out.

His eyes hungrily raked over the tiny annotations you’d made on his letter.

There was a bracket drawn around a phrase and the word “redundant” jotted in the nearest margin. A whole sentence was underlined and called “bombastic”, and Percy quickly put one of his books in his lap because he was having a Reaction and he was pretty sure he was in love.

At the very bottom of the page, below his signature, you had written: “Good spelling, and good use of the word ‘limerent’. On the whole, though, I think that you could do better.”

Pride and affection and determination flooded him. He took out a parchment and began to compose another letter. This one he scoured for any of the same mistakes he had made in the first one; he would not be redundant or bombastic or have a “strange use of passive voice here”. He took another two days, this time not even listening in class as he wrote and edited and rewrote (an otherwise perfect page had to be thrown out because a stray ink mark too closely resembled an apostrophe) before finally slipping the finished product to you.

This one you handed back with fewer structural complaints, but more thematic ones. In multiple places, you merely underlined a phrase and wrote “cliche”. So he was being graded for originality, too. You had high standards, which only made the chance of meeting them more enticing.

He was going to earn your approval. Approval would turn to love. One day, you were going to love him; he’d make sure of it. You would be with him, the two of you would be together, you would love him. Like he loved you.

“Hasty conclusion; insufficient evidence,” you jotted on his next one, with an arrow to the word love.

Evidence. Of course, you wouldn’t just accept that he loved you with no sub-points to back it up.

Merlin, you were so endearing. He had to earn your trust, prove himself. His whole next letter expounded on his feelings for you, as concretely as he could. He avoided subjective descriptors, as he knew that you would critique any use of words like “beautiful”, and focused on specific qualities you had and how they made him feel. Once he had tapped into that well, it seemed he couldn’t stop; he wrote out all of the things he had noticed about you that no one else had, and how it annoyed him that your friends were so inattentive to your feelings, and all of the details of the future he imagined for the two of you.

That letter he did not receive back for several days.

He spent those days in a daze of mixed anxiety and excitement. He imagined that you hated the letter. He imagined you loved it. He imagined that you were tearing it to shreds. He imagined that you read it to yourself every night.

He couldn’t catch your gaze in or between classes; you didn’t study in the library anymore. He didn’t notice that he had taken to following you in the hallways until one of your friends spotted him and whispered to you, and his anxiety spiked; he sprinted in the opposite direction, hoping you hadn’t turned around in time to see him.

The next day (by which time a torturous week had passed), you set a folded parchment in front of him on your way to your seat in Charms class.

It was not his letter; it was a note of your own, inscribed with only the words, “You are very observant. Thank you for the conversation, but I don’t know that I am interested.”

His heartbeat raced. His eyes looped over the words, fixating on different ones each time. He did not feel despair, nor defeat; how could he, when he knew the kind of people you had already settled for. You were brilliant, but your friends weren’t nearly as smart as he was. They didn’t care for you as much as he did. They wouldn’t be as successful as he would, provide for you like he would. The people you chose to surround yourself with would never deserve you, but he could come to. He had just failed to get that across, but soon he would succeed.

His eyes tightened their loop, now focused only on the words “I don’t know”.

That was the most important part, he decided. You had not been blunt in your rejection; you were unsure. He could fix that, could explain himself, could teach you how to accept his love, the way you had taught him so much.

Slowly, so as not to break the reverie he found himself in, Percy withdrew his quill, inkwell, and parchment from his bag. He would write you again. A letter a day, two letters a day, as many as needed. As many observations and declarations as it would take. He just needed to prove himself.

...

(Caught myself referencing the song “Other Friends” towards the end, then just kinda went with it. Hope you enjoyed this one!)