#(( in which i only respond to things a thousand years later ))

[mind-intheclouds342]

The perfect one - Trans Curly x Reader

Warning: Smutty!

To you, he was the best man you could have ever met, tall, blonde, with blue eyes, his beard tickled you every time you kissed him, his hands were big and perfect for holding your face, kind, compassionate, and you could keep naming many other qualities of his.

After so many failed relationships, you felt that you had finally met the right person for you. 

Maybe the only bad thing you could say about him was his job, which meant he was away too much, but in the last few months you were dating, there wasn't a day when you didn't receive a call from him and he would tell you how everything was going.

While you were waiting at the mall for their arrival to meet, someone had approached you. 

He looked familiar when you gave him a glance, until you realized he was a friend of Curly's, whom you had only seen in photographs. 

Jimmy: "Aren't you (Y/n)? Curly's girlfriend?"

"Um- yeah, it's me..." 

You nodded somewhat nervously at the man's sudden closeness. 

Jimmy: "Are you gay?"

"Excuse me?"

That question had caught you completely off guard. 

Jimmy: "Sure you are, otherwise you wouldn't be with Curly, right?" 

"I don't understand what you're talking about."

Jimmy: "You know, because he is a woman."

"Eh?"

Every word that came out of his mouth only made you feel more and more confused. 

Jimmy: "Didn't you know? He may look like a man and all, but he doesn't have what really makes a man."

"You know- I don't feel comfortable talking about this with you. I will kindly ask you to leave me alone and go away."

Jimmy: "Ugh, I'm just telling you the truth, you don't have to react that way."

He rolled his eyes. 

Jimmy: "You should be with a real man, I'm available if you're interested in that."

"No thanks, I would prefer to eat cockroaches."

You made an unpleasant grimace at that idea, but the thought of being much closer to that person for a longer time seemed even more disgusting to you. 

After rejecting him in a thousand different ways and having him insult you for rejecting him, he got tired enough to leave you alone. 

"What kind of friends does Curly have?"

You wondered, looking at the time on your phone, hoping he would arrive soon. 

And when you looked up from the screen, all you could see were yellow tulips in front of you. 

Curly: "Have you been waiting a long time for me?"

You melted at the sight of that beautiful smile he has, and the gesture of the flowers in a pot won your heart once again. 

"No, not at all, I arrived just a few minutes early."

You responded by greeting your boyfriend with a kiss on the lips, happy to see him again. 

Curly: "Great, shall we go to that new café you wanted to go to?"

"Of course~"

You clung to his arm and, attached to him, walked together until you reached that place.

You took a seat, leaving the flowers aside, and after glancing at the menu, you decided to place  your orders. 

Curly: "And? Have you thought about my proposal?"

"To go live with you?" You smiled, playing with the paper napkin on the table. "I don't know..." It's still a bit early~ we've only been dating for half a year"

Curly: "Mmm, but we've known each other for two years." 

"But it seems like you haven't told me everything~" 

Immediately, his calm demeanor changed to a more nervous one. 

Curly: "Hehehehe, what are you talking about?"

"I had the strangest conversation with your friend Jimmy, you told me he was a good guy, but damn, he's an idiot!" 

Curly: "Oh- um- and what did he say?"

"He started calling you less of a man and those things, he even called you a woman, I thought it was a bit exaggerated."

Curly: "Well... About that..."

"...Why would you hide something like this from me??"

Curly: "I didn't know how you were going to react... I like you a lot and I don't want to lose you..."

"Fool, it's not worth hiding those things, sooner or later they come to light, and it's better to say them beforehand." 

Both sighed and rested their heads in their hands. 

Curly: "You're going to leave me, aren't you? It's okay if you do it..."

"What?"

Curly: "At this point, this is where everyone leaves... For women, I was never a 'real man,' and for those who like women, I was never quite a woman, so... no one was satisfied with me after finding out that I am trans. " 

"I'm angry because you didn't tell me earlier. Not because you were born a woman"

Curly: "...Are you not going to leave me?"

"How could I leave the best man in the world?"

When he saw your smile and heard what you said, he couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and joy. 

At that moment, your drinks were brought to you, and you continued your conversation as if nothing had happened, talking about your jobs and friends, catching up after not having seen each other for a while.

You had decided to go to his house, you wanted to stay for dinner and sleep with him. 

"Was that you??" 

You said, surprised, looking at some photos from when he was a teenager, before testosterone. 

The two sitting on the couch in their living room. 

Curly: "Yeah... They always told me I looked very masculine, so I tried to look as feminine as possible so they wouldn't talk weird about me, but I think I just looked dumber." 

"You were so beautiful! You have always been handsome your whole life, it's unfair!"

You buried your face in his chest and hit him a couple of times softly, until you stopped and looked at him. 

Curly: "There's nothing left" he laughed lightly as if he could read what you were thinking. 

"Can I see?"

He blushed a little at your proposal, but he was quick to please you and take off his shirt. 

You attentively observed his scars, carefully touching them with the tips of your fingers. 

"I love them" 

Curly: "And i love yours," he smiled, seeing how focused you were on his chest. 

He became somewhat curious when you started looking at his face and chest repeatedly; he suspected you were up to something and confirmed it when you bit his chest out of nowhere. 

That was the greatest show of affection you could give him. 

"By the way! You need to work on your friendships. "

You told him when you stopped biting him, he was lying on the couch breathing heavily from how you had attacked him, his entire chest and neck marked with small bites and hickeys.

Curly: "Can we talk about that later?"

He said with a sigh and his cheeks red. 

"Of course" 

You smiled to climb on top of him and kiss his lips. 

You felt his hands resting on your thighs and then slowly sliding down to your butt to squeeze it. 

You let out a small sigh between your lips, causing him to pull away from you. 

Curly: "Are you sure about this?"

"More than sure" 

You confirmed it and let out a squeal when he grabbed you to carry you, getting up from the couch ready to take you to his room. 

When he laid you down on the bed, he immediately began kissing your neck and slipped his hands inside your shirt, trying to unfasten your bra. 

You felt his hands glide over your body to take off your shirt, momentarily parting from your neck to get rid of it and then placing a kiss back on your lips. 

He gave you a smile before turning to your breasts to start kissing them first, then licking them, and finally dedicating all his attention to your nipples, one in his mouth and the other being massaged by his left hand. 

He sucked, pressed with his lips, and moved his tongue in circles over one, while with the other he gently pulled and twisted, making them hard, causing you to arch your back while letting out small moans. 

Curly: "You sound so lovely..." 

"I didn't know you could be so eager..." 

You laughed a little until you saw him run his tongue between your breasts and then down to your stomach, leaving a kiss on it before he started to take off your pants.

"Hey! I'm not a rag doll!" 

You shook your legs to prevent him from completely removing the lower part of your clothes, it didn't bother you at all but you felt a bit lazy letting him do everything. 

You finished taking off your pants by yourself, left only in your underwear, sat on his bed, and smiled. 

"You have more clothes than I do."

Curly: "And if we leave that for another day? It doesn't bother me at all to please you today."

"Pants down"

You said it almost like an order, crossing your arms.

He sighed to start unbuttoning his pants, and as he lowered them, you saw that he was wearing boxers, but what caught your attention the most was the hair peeking out from the lower part of his stomach. 

"...Jungle?"

Curly: "Don't say it like that!"

"I see that the curtains match the rugs. "

Curly: "Don't keep on with that"

You let out a giggle and pushed him, making him fall back onto the bed. You rested your cheek on his thigh, playing with the edge of his boxers between your fingers, then slowly pulling them down to his knees. 

"Oh wow-" 

You just said that and Curly was already covering his face with his arms. 

You had never seen an erect clit in your life, but you didn't mind it at all, not to mention the amount of hair covering that area. 

You couldn't help but lean in and soon take it into your mouth to suck it, surprised when he suddenly lifted his hips and his legs trembled, perhaps you hadn't considered the sensitivity of that part. 

When you tried to pull away, his hands went to your head, pushing you against his pussy. 

Curly: "No, no, no, please don't stop"

And those words were enough for you to continue with the pleasure of that man, too immersed in his moans, not wanting to stop and even exploring a bit more by inserting two of your fingers inside him, giving him goosebumps. 

Curly: "Yesss, keep going like that- a little more- a little more and-!"

You could only drown your moan in his intimacy when his legs pushed you even more against him at the moment he reached his orgasm. 

Little by little, his trembling legs slid down your back, leaving you free, finally lifting your head with your cheeks red and your face all wet.. 

"Bleh"

You stuck out your tongue to get a hair off it, and both of you ended up looking at each other and then laughing for the same reason. 

Curly: "I think I got carried away-"

"Do you think so?" 

You murmured to lean over him and kiss his lips.

Curly: "Eew, you are soaked."

"Now you deal with it" 

They laughed as you planted kisses all over their face. 

Curly: "If you want to soak my face, do it like this"

He took your sides and pulled you up until your stomach was against his face, he started kissing you, tickling you, and making you sit on his chest.

"Hehehe what are you- oh my God-"

You let out a moan when he took your sides and ended up dragging you to his face, moving your panties aside with his teeth and inserting his tongue in an instant. 

You were definitely going to seriously consider moving in with him. 

[webtomo]

While I am optimistic about Tomodachi Life: Living The Dream and will probably be buying it and playing it regardless of anything, there are a few things that kinda potentially concern me about the game. I assume most of these will be addressed at some point in the future, but I want to run through them real quick.

1 - The "New Horizons" problem.

Though I did play a lot of New Horizons when it came out and did thoroughly enjoy it, it is undeniable that the game is held back by a number of flaws. Most notably, the fact that they significantly stripped back a number of features (especially near the time of release) as well as the general "softening" of the game. Now, don't get me wrong, New Horizons is far from a bad game. But many things sort of hold me back from considering it the definitive Animal Crossing experience, especially after coming off of New Leaf/Welcome Amiibo. I do really enjoy the customization of the game, but in many ways it almost feels like they had forgone things like villagers personalities and their autonomy in order to make that happen. Not to mention the fact that many key elements of the series were not in the game at all at launch, and were instead added in later updates. I am hoping that at the very least, the team behind Living The Dream will be able to learn from the negative aspects of New Horizons. Tomodachi Life is a series that, in part, is made by the randomness of every social interaction and is way more heavily focused on social interaction than Animal Crossing as a whole is. So with that in mind, I do hope that they don't entirely drop the ball in that regard and can present us with something interesting. Another big aspect of Tomodachi Life is relationships and the drama that the islanders get themselves into, so I hope that they allow for those things to continue to be relevant in this entry without dampening the personalities of the islanders.

2 - Gay Marriage.

I think most people know about this by now, but back when Tomodachi Life originally came out a controversy sprung about, named the Miiquality movement. This movement was centered around making Nintendo acknowledge and allow gay couples to exist in Tomodachi Life, since it was one of the only games in the life simulation genre to not allow it. Nintendo responded by claiming that they would promise to include it in a potential sequel, since it was too late for them to change anything in the original Tomodachi Life for 3DS. Now, this is a net good thing, and I and many other have been asking for this for a long time. However, I am somewhat worried that for whatever reason, they do something to work around the gay marriage thing. It honestly would probably be kind of stupid for them to do this, but I can very easily picture a reality where they forgo the entire existing relationship system and replace it with something else, maybe something like the Miitopia system or something. But honestly, at that point, it would just be easier to allow gay marriage outright since the Miitopia relationship system was the reason that game was marked as an 18+ title in Russia and Nintendo seemingly had no issues with releasing the game there despite it. Nowadays, we live in 2025. There is no reason for them to not include it at this point. Tomodachi Life for 3DS released in 2013 in Japan and 2014 everywhere else, which predated the legalization of gay marriage in the United States and a number of other places in which the game released, and is still not fully legal to this day in Japan (but is pretty close to potential legalization at the time of writing). Nowadays, Nintendo seems more open to the idea of having visibly queer characters in their games, for instance the Fire Emblem series allows you to be gay in most of their modern releases. Just last year, the Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door remake officially canonized trans Vivian, so I do think the option is still on the table.

3 - Scale and design.

The trailer we have seen shows some already significant design changes in this game compared to the previous two, which honestly I do think looks decent and I have positive thoughts on the art direction as a whole. However with any big new changes, there are bound to be some rough points. The flatness of the island we have seen is a little weird, which I assume may be related to a potential building feature, in which case is fine, but in many ways honestly feels like a visual downgrade from the 3DS version. Albeit we have not seen too much so far regarding the appearance of the island, and if island customization is a thing then that could potentially negate that issue entirely. However, a bigger concern of mine is the scale of the island itself. I am somewhat worried now that since each islander is living in a little cabin instead of an apartment, that the amount of Miis you are able to add will be limited. This isn't entirely a deal breaker necessarily, however I think most people would agree that it would be extremely disappointing if the game forces you to limit the amount of people on your island arbitrarily. I think if they were to cut down the amount of Miis per island, a reasonable minimum should be at least 50. Ideally I would prefer if the cap of 100 Miis was still a thing, since its a pretty reasonable number and I would be happy if they even allowed for more than that. Though if they do decide to limit the islanders to a smaller number, then I think it would honestly kill a lot of the hype for this game, since a big aspect of Tomodachi Life is the broadness of interactions possible between many islanders at a time. The Switch is more powerful than the 3DS so I am hoping they at least have some way around this issue, but the Switch isn't necessarily a powerhouse to begin with, so we will see how that pans out.

With all of that being said, I am still very excited for this game. I imagine future news will address some of these issues, but for now I guess we will just have to wait and see what happens. I will continue to post more about Living The Dream as more news presents itself.

[ch0llies]

REVIVAL | CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO

A story in which a messy breakup lands you in your best friend's Boston apartment a year after high school, and you find yourself face-to-face again with Christopher Sturniolo-your first love. As your paths cross again, the bitterness of how you left him still lingers, fueling every hated glance. But with your best friend dating his brother, you know is there's no escaping Chris- or the tension that refuses to die. Is this revival destined to reignite, or will it crumble under the weight of your unresolved past?

story warning: this story includes very toxic and abusive behavior. none of the actions or words in this series are justified and are written exclusively for entertainment purposes only. under no circumstances are they personally associated with chris other than just using him as the main character. read at your own discretion. now that that is cleared up, there will be filthy smut, angst, swearing, underage drinking, underage drug use, abusive behavior, morally skewed choices, toxic relationships, and overall mature themes. if any of this upsets you... don't read!

word count: 4k

CHAPTER SIX:

Two Months Later

The cycle never ended. If anything it got worse. Chris pulled you in, made you believe you were something to him, only to push you away the second you got too close. And the worst part? You let him. Over and over and over again.

Some days, he was all over you- his hands on your waist, his lips ghosting over your skin, whispering things that made you forget everything except him. And then, the next day, he’d act like you barely existed. He’d brush past you without a word, act cold, distant, and cruel, as if the night before never happened. And every time you told yourself you wouldn’t fall for it again, that you’d shut him out, he’d find a way back in.

It was exhausting. It was toxic. And yet, you couldn’t stop.

To make matters worse, the triplets’ channel had blown up. In just two months, they’d gained over 20,000 subscribers, and their videos were pulling in thousands of views daily. With their rapid growth, filming had become their priority- meaning your apartment had basically turned into their second home.

Matt had even moved in with you and Ava, claiming he “practically lived here anyway.” He wasn’t wrong. He and Ava were inseparable, and while you loved having him around, it also meant dealing with the other side of their relationship- the constant sex, the loud giggles coming from her bedroom at ungodly hours, and the way they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

Chris, of course, was around even more now because of it. Between filming, editing, and brainstorming video ideas, he was constantly in your space, constantly finding new ways to get under your skin.

Right now, the living room was a mess of cameras, lighting stands, and random props as the boys set up for another video.

“You’re sure this is okay?” Nick asked, adjusting the camera on its tripod. “We don’t wanna be in your way, Y/N.”

You scoffed, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Nick, you guys have basically been living here for weeks. I think we passed the ‘in my way’ phase a long time ago.”

He grinned. “Fair enough.”

Matt jogged into the room, wrapping an arm around Ava’s waist and spinning her in a quick circle before setting her down with a loud kiss. She giggled, slapping his chest playfully, and you rolled your eyes.

“You two make me sick,” you muttered.

“You’re just jealous,” Ava shot back, smirking.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, you felt it- Chris’s presence behind you. Close. Too close.

“You should be jealous,” he murmured in your ear, his voice just low enough for only you to hear. “They have their whole life planned out and you? You’re just my bitch.”

Your stomach twisted as his words sank in, a familiar frustration bubbling to the surface. You turned to face him, but he was already walking away, joining Matt and Nick by the camera, acting as if he hadn’t just whispered something that would sit in your head all night.

This was how it always was. He got under your skin, made sure you knew he was in control, and then left you stewing in it.

You clenched your jaw, exhaling sharply as you grabbed a pepsi from the fridge. If this was your life now- Chris everywhere, pushing and pulling, never letting you breathe- you were going to have to figure out how to survive it.

Even if it meant pretending he didn’t affect you. Even if it meant lying to yourself every single day.

The video wrapped up after another chaotic hour of filming, and soon enough, everyone collapsed onto the couch, exhausted but still buzzing with leftover energy. You sat wedged between Ava and Nick, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly as the boys talked about their next upload.

Chris was sprawled on the other end of the couch, legs stretched out, his fingers lazily tapping against his thigh. The air between you was already tense- it always was- but tonight, there was something different, something thicker and heavier lingering between you.

Then, out of nowhere, Chris scoffed loudly, his eyes dragging over you with an expression you couldn’t quite place-but you knew it wasn’t good.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he asked suddenly, his tone dripping with amusement and something sharper, something meant to cut.

Your head snapped up, your stomach twisting immediately. “What?”

He gestured vaguely at your oversized hoodie and bike shorts, his smirk deepening. “Did you gain weight or something?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and the room went still. Ava and Matt were still laughing about something, not fully tuned into the conversation yet, but Nick caught it. His head snapped toward Chris, his expression shifting into something wary.

You clenched your jaw, heat rising to your face. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Chris leaned back against the armrest, completely unfazed. “I mean, you just look… bigger. Maybe it’s the outfit.”

Something inside you snapped.

Before you could think, you were lunging over Ava, your hands flying toward him as pure rage overtook every rational thought. Ava yelped as you climbed over her, and before Chris could react, your palm connected with his cheek in a sharp slap that echoed through the apartment.

“What the fuck, Y/N?!” Matt barked, grabbing you before you could strike again.

Nick shot up from the couch, eyes wide. “What the hell is going on?”

Chris barely flinched from the slap, his jaw tightening as he wiped at his cheek. His expression was unreadable, but you could feel the anger radiating off of him. Matt still had his arms wrapped around you, keeping you from lunging again, but you shoved him off roughly, stepping back and breathing heavily.

“Oh, I’ll tell you what’s going on,” you spat, glaring down at Chris. “Your brother just called me fucking fat, that’s what’s fucking going on.”

Ava’s mouth dropped open, and Nick immediately turned to Chris, his face a mix of shock and disgust. “Dude, what?”

Chris just smirked, rubbing his jaw where you had slapped him. “You’re overreacting.”

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking your head. “Overreacting? That’s real fucking funny, considering you were telling me how much you loved my body when you were inside it the other night.”

The entire room went silent.

Ava’s head whipped toward you so fast you thought she might get whiplash. Matt and Nick both froze, their faces morphing from confusion to complete shock.

Chris’s smirk immediately disappeared, his entire body tensing. His blue eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as he pushed himself off the couch.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he snapped, his voice low, dangerous.

He took a step toward you, and you squared your shoulders, refusing to back down.

Matt and Nick immediately jumped up, stepping between the two of you as Ava stared in horror, trying to process what she had just heard.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Matt said, holding a hand out toward Chris. “What the fuck is happening right now?”

Nick’s eyes darted between the two of you, his face pinched in disbelief. “You guys have been sleeping together again?”

Chris didn’t answer. He just kept his eyes locked on you, his fists clenched at his sides. The anger rolling off him was palpable, but you weren’t scared. Not even a little. You were pissed.

You took a step closer, tilting your head up to meet his glare. “Nah,” you said, shaking your head. “Let him go. What’s he gonna do, huh?”

Chris took another step forward, getting right in your face, his chest barely brushing against yours.

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t blink. You just smirked up at him, pushing every ounce of anger and adrenaline into your words.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice dripping with venom. “That’s what I fucking thought.”

Chris’s hand shot out before you could react, gripping your jaw roughly and tilting your face up toward him. His fingers pressed into your skin, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you of the control he he had. His blue eyes burned into yours, his expression a mixture of fury and amusement.

“You’re gonna regret this,” he muttered, his voice low and threatening.

Ava gasped loudly from behind you. “Chris, what the fuck?”

Nick and Matt immediately moved forward, their faces twisting in anger.

“Whoa, dude,” Matt barked, pushing forward. “Fucking watch it.”

Before you could even react, Matt shoved him back roughly, breaking his hold on you. Chris stumbled, falling back onto the couch with a heavy thud. His smirk returned, but this time it was darker, more twisted.

“Nah,” Chris said, shaking his head as he adjusted his jaw, his eyes flicking back to you. “If we’re gonna go there…” He let his words hang in the air for a second before locking onto you with a look that sent your blood boiling. “Why don’t you tell them how much you like being manhandled by me?”

Your whole body tensed, your vision going red. Your heart pounded so loud you could barely hear Ava’s shocked gasp or Nick’s stunned, “What the fuck?”

Chris just smiled evilly, watching as the words settled over the room, as the weight of them crushed you under embarrassment and anger.

Your hands clenched into fists, your nails digging into your palms.

You lunged for him again.

Chris didn’t even flinch, just smirked wider, waiting for you to completely snap.

But before you could reach him, Ava stepped in front of you, pressing her hands against your shoulders. “Okay, that’s enough- let’s just go upstairs.”

You shoved her hands off roughly. “Nah,” you spat, shaking your head, eyes locked on Chris. “He’s fucking getting it. I’m sick of his shit.”

Chris just sat there, leaning back lazily on the couch like he hadn’t just lit a match and dropped it on a pile of gasoline. His smirk never faltered. If anything, he looked thrilled by your reaction, like this was exactly what he wanted.

Matt and Nick both moved in again, their faces set in frustration, trying to de-escalate, but you didn’t care.

Your blood was boiling, your hands shaking with rage.

You were done playing his game. And if Chris wanted a war, he was fucking getting one.

Chris stood back up, towering over you, his smirk now fully twisted into something cruel and enjoying this. His blue eyes glinted with satisfaction, like he wanted you to react, wanted to break you down in front of everyone.

“Yeah,” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. “Go ahead, Y/N. Tell them.” He took a step closer, tilting his head as his voice dropped into something even darker, something condescending. “Tell them how much you like me grabbing you like that. How you beg for me to be rougher. How you whine for me to touch you. How fucking pathetic you are for me.”

Your whole body went rigid, your breathing sharp and uneven as the words sank in, hot and humiliating.

Ava gasped again, but she didn’t step in this time.

Nick muttered, “Dude- what the actual fuck?”

Matt looked at you with a mixture of confusion and concern, but all you could hear was Chris. His words burned into your skin like fire, filling you with a rage so consuming you didn’t even think-

You lunged.

This time, no one was there to stop you.

Your hands collided with his chest as you shoved him back with everything you had. But Chris barely moved. He let out a low chuckle, his smirk deepening, enjoying your reaction.

Before you could strike again, his hands snatched your wrists, his grip strong and unyielding. In one swift movement, he twisted your arms together, locking them in place as you struggled.

“You never learn, do you?” he muttered, shaking his head as if he pitied you.

You thrashed against his grip, but he didn’t budge. His fingers tightened around your wrists, his hold completely inescapable. Your breathing was ragged, your chest rising and falling too fast, your anger consuming every rational thought.

Then, without another word, he started dragging you away.

“Chris, let go of me!” you yelled, twisting in his hold, but he didn’t stop.

“Woah- wait, wait, wait!” Matt’s voice rang out, his footsteps moving toward you both.

“Nah, what the fuck?” Nick snapped, his voice sharper now. “You can’t just take her like that!”

“Chris-” Ava started, stepping forward, her tone full of warning. “Bring my girl back- NOW!”

Chris ignored all of them. His grip on you stayed firm, his body radiating nothing but control as he dragged you toward the hallway, toward somewhere away from them. Somewhere just you and him.

Ava’s panicked voice cut through the tension. “Matt, do something!”

Matt didn’t hesitate. He surged forward and shoved Chris back- hard. Chris stumbled a step, his grip loosening on you just enough for you to break free.

Matt got right up in his face, his jaw clenched, eyes blazing. “Yo, you wanna put your hands on someone? Let’s go, kid.”

Chris let out a low, humorless laugh, rolling his shoulders like he was itching for a fight. “Are we really doing this right now?”

Matt didn’t back down. “Yeah, bud. Let’s do it.”

And then Matt swung.

His fist connected with Chris’s jaw in a clean, sharp hit that sent a crack through the room. Chris staggered back, his tongue swiping over the inside of his cheek where Matt had landed the punch.

But before he could retaliate, you moved.

“Matt, STOP!”

The words flew from your lips before you could even think. Without hesitation, you stepped between them, your hands pressing against Chris’s chest, keeping him from lunging forward.

Matt froze, his breathing ragged as he glared at you. “What the fuck, Y/N?”

Ava’s voice rang out next, full of disbelief. “Are you deadass? Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?!”

You weren’t listening. Your hands instinctively moved to Chris’s face, checking where Matt had hit him, your fingers lightly grazing his jaw. “Are you okay?” you asked breathlessly, your voice softer, concerned.

Chris’s smirk returned- but this one was different. He tilted his head slightly, soaking in the way you were touching him, the way you had stepped in for him instead of letting Matt beat his ass.

And then, before anyone could react, he cupped your face in both hands, his touch almost gentle in contrast to the chaos around you. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, his fingers curling into your hair as he pulled you closer.

Then he leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead.

The action sent shockwaves through the room.

Matt’s fists clenched at his sides. Ava’s jaw dropped in pure disbelief. Nick looked like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin.

Chris’s arms wrapped around your waist, securing you against him as he turned his head just enough to glance at Matt, smug satisfaction dripping from every inch of him.

“See?” Chris murmured, loud enough for everyone to hear. “She’s fine.”

Then, his grip on you tightened slightly, his lips brushing against your temple as he muttered the final nail in the coffin-

“We’re leaving.”

And he started guiding you toward the door, leaving nothing but silence, shock, and the unmistakable feeling that you had just chosen the wrong side. But you knew it would be the side you’d choose again and again and again.

Chris didn’t give anyone time to process what had just happened. He moved swiftly, his grip still firm on your wrist as he led you toward the front door. His eyes flicked toward the table near the entrance, and without hesitation, he grabbed your car keys.

“Chris, what the fuck-” you started, yanking at your arm, but he wasn’t letting go.

Ignoring your protests, he snatched a jacket from the coat rack- the first one he saw- before throwing it over your shoulders. It wasn’t yours. It was his- one of his dark, oversized hoodies, drowning your frame, completely swallowing up the little shorts and shirt you were wearing prior.

And you knew he did it on purpose.

Chris didn’t like other people seeing you like this. Even though he had no right to that opinion. Even though you weren’t his.

But he still covered you up like you were.

He pulled you outside without another word, walking straight toward your car. With one hand, he wrenched the passenger door open, and before you could fight back, he shoved you inside.

“Chris-”

SLAM.

He shut the door before you could finish, storming around the front of the car and sliding into the driver’s seat like it was his car. The second he turned the ignition, the engine roared to life, and his grip tightened around the steering wheel.

Then, without so much as a warning, he peeled out of the driveway, speeding down the street recklessly.

The anger in the air was suffocating.

The silence was short-lived.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” you screamed, whipping around to face him.

Chris’s jaw was locked, his knuckles white around the steering wheel as he refused to look at you. “Shut up.”

“NO!” you snapped, slamming your hands against the dashboard. “PULL THE FUCK OVER!”

Chris laughed. A cold, humorless laugh. “Not a fucking chance.”

Your nails dug into your palms, your rage blinding. “You do NOT get to do this to me, Chris! You do NOT get to fucking drag me out of there like I’m-”

“Like you’re what?” he interrupted sharply, finally cutting his eyes toward you. “Like you’re MINE?”

The car swerved slightly as he took a turn too fast, and your breath caught in your throat.

You weren’t scared.

You were fucking furious.

“I AM NOT YOURS!” you screamed. “I HAVEN’T BEEN YOURS SINCE HIGH SCHOOL, YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!”

Chris slammed his fist against the steering wheel so hard that the entire car shook. His breathing was ragged, his knuckles white, his face twisted in pure, unfiltered rage.

“YOU WERE NEVER MINE IN HIGH SCHOOL!” he shouted, his voice so raw and furious it sent a jolt through your body. “THAT WAS THE FUCKING PROBLEM, YOU CUNT! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO FUCKING LEFT ME!”

Your chest heaved as his words slammed into you like a bullet, but you didn’t back down.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING CALL ME THAT! I LEFT BECAUSE YOU WERE NEVER GONNA BE WHAT I NEEDED, CHRIS!” you screamed, your own voice just as raw. “You never fucking cared about me- not really! You cared about owning me! Controlling me!”

Chris’s jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscle twitch. His grip on the wheel tightened, his breath coming out fast and uneven. “Oh, that’s rich,” he sneered. “You think I didn’t fucking care about you? You think I wasn’t fucking obsessed with you? I would’ve burned the entire fucking world down for you, Y/N, and you fucking left.”

His words felt like a slap.

For a second- just a second you saw it.

The real anger. The real pain. The Chris who had been left behind, the Chris you had ghosted, the Chris who had spent years turning that heartbreak into something uglier, something crueler. You did this to him.

But you weren’t about to let him rewrite history to make himself the victim.

“You pushed me away first,” you hissed, your voice shaking with rage. “You never told me what we were, you never let me in, and the second I started moving on, you decided I wasn’t allowed to!”

Chris let out a sharp, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, is that what you tell yourself? That I pushed you away? No, baby.” His voice lowered, his tone sharp as a blade. “You left because someone else gave you a little bit of attention. Because the second you saw an easier option, you fucking took it. You ran the moment things got complicated, because that’s what you do, isn’t it?”

Your hands shook in your lap.

“Fuck you,” you whispered.

Chris smirked, but it wasn’t amused- it was mean. Cruel.

“Oh, I already do,” he murmured. “Over and over again.”

Your body burned with rage, with shame, with the unbearable truth in his words.

He leaned in again, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. “And that’s why we’re here. Because you’re mine now, Y/N. Maybe you weren’t back then. But you are now.”

“I AM NOT FUCKING YOURS YOU EVIL, MANIPULATIVE, PIECE OF SHIT! GET OUT OF MY FUCKING LIFE!” You screech, your entire body fighting between the urge to slap him again and the urge to fucking sob.

Chris slammed his fist against the steering wheel again, his knuckle busting open as the car swerved. “Oh, REALLY?” he shouted. “Then why the fuck did you just CHOOSE ME OVER THEM?”

Your mouth opened- but nothing came out.

Chris scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah. That’s what I fucking thought.”

Your blood was boiling. Your hands were shaking. “You are so fucking sick and twisted, Chris-”

“AND YOU FUCKING LOVE IT!” he yelled, voice raw with frustration.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your vision blurring with rage.

“You don’t know shit about what I love,” you spat.

Chris finally slammed the brakes, pulling the car onto the side of the road so fast that your body jerked forward against the seatbelt. His breathing was heavy, his hands still gripping the wheel like he was trying not to completely lose his mind, his knuckle bleeding down his hand but it was like he didn’t even notice.

Then, slowly, too slowly, he turned his head to look at you.

His eyes were burning.

“You’re right,” he murmured, his voice dangerous. “I don’t know shit about what you love.”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your face as he tilted his head.

“But I do know you love me. That every time I touch you, you melt for me.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

“And I know that you can sit here and scream and curse at me all you want, but at the end of the day?” He licked his lips, eyes scanning your face. “You let me do this to you.”

Your breathing was ragged, your throat burning from all the screaming.

Chris smirked, leaning back against his seat. “So, tell me again, Y/N- who’s really the fucking psycho here?”

Your entire body burned with anger, with frustration, with pure, unfiltered rage. You clenched your fists so tight your nails dug into your palms, your breath coming out in ragged gasps.

“YOU’RE THE FUCKING PSYCHO!” you screamed, the words tearing out of you like a final, desperate attempt to shake him, to make him feel something real.

Chris just grinned.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, shaking his head like he pitied you. “You wanna see psycho?”

And then he closed his eyes.

He shifted into drive and peeled onto the main road without looking.

The tires screeched, the engine roared, and your stomach dropped as the car lurched forward, blindly, into traffic.

“CHRIS!” you shrieked, your hands flying toward him, shaking his arm. “OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES!”

But he didn’t.

He laughed.

And kept driving.

The headlights of another car came blaring toward you, horn blaring, tires screeching-

You screamed.

With shaking hands and tears streaming down your face, you yanked the emergency brake, the car swerving violently off the road, your body jerking forward against the seatbelt. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as the car skidded onto the shoulder, your heartbeat pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.

And only then- when the world stopped spinning, when the car settled in the dark stillness of the roadside, when your whole body was shaking with terror- did Chris finally open his fucking eyes.

And the fucker was smiling.

A slow, lazy, utterly thrilled smile, like he had won.

You were still gasping for breath, tears spilling down your face as you tried to process what the fuck just happened, when he reached over and cupped your face in his hands.

“Shh,” he cooed, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, his grip firm, inescapable. He leaned in, tilting your chin up, forcing you to look at him through your tears as blood dripped down his fist onto the hoodie you were wearing. “You’re okay, baby. See? I told you you’d be fine.”

And then he kissed you.

You were still crying, still shaking, your whole body running on pure adrenaline, and he fucking kissed you.

His lips moved against yours slowly, deliberately, his grip on your face owning you, holding you in place like you belonged to him. His tongue swiped against your lower lip, his breath hot and steady, like he wasn’t the one who just almost killed you both.

You didn’t kiss him back.

You didn’t fight him off, either.

Because you couldn’t breathe, because you were still trying to process, because you were so fucking scared- and he knew it.

When he pulled back, his eyes were dark, his smirk small, knowing.

“We’re gonna go back to my house,” he murmured, his hands still holding you like you were his. “I’m gonna tell my mom we’re together.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Chris-”

“And you’re gonna be my good girl, just like you always are.” His thumbs brushed your wet cheeks, smearing your tears away. “And you’re gonna play along, okay?”

Your stomach twisted, your throat closing up with a choked sob.

You tried to move, but his hands tightened around your face.

“Okay, baby?” he repeated, softer now, like he was gently coaxing you into insanity.

Your whole body trembled.

“Fuck you,” you whispered, your voice raw, broken.

Chris only grinned.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided, pressing another slow, possessive kiss against your lips, barely letting you breathe. “That’s not very good manners.”

His smirk deepened.

“Mary Lou wouldn’t like that.”

Your stomach dropped, fear curling up your spine like a vice.

Chris let go of your face, his fingers trailing over your jaw as he finally pulled back, shifting his focus back to the road.

Then, without another word, he reached down, undid the emergency brake, and pulled back onto the road towards his family house.

And you just sat there.

—

A/N: long overdue part!! thank you for being patient!! i actually loved writing this and can’t wait to get back into this series now that earned it is over!!

MASTERLIST

tags: @mattsobvimyfav @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt @violetstxrniolo777 @urfungi @jxst-Ixving-bxt-wxerd @chrispycremedonut @ranwa0y @princesspinkkk23 @madisonnxtdoor22 @sturniolohohoho @theboredknightcat-blog @hi-people-who-are-alive @middlepartmatt

[temis-de-leon]

The brothers reunite with Trans!MC - Part 1

Main Masterlist

Part 2

Anon request: How do you think the Obey Me brothers would react to a trans (AFAB) reader? Like they spent their given amount of time in the Devildom, went back to the human world for a long enough time to get both top surgery and a hysterectomy (so at least a couple years), maybe some testosterone too if they wanted it. Then when the time comes to go back to the Devildom, the brothers almost wonder if they got the right human! And yet the human's pacts, personality, and verbal recounts are too detailed + specific to be fabricated - they did get the correct person, even though they look quite different now

A/N: there are two parts for this request because the introduction alone is 600 words, but don't worry because I'm writing the second part right now. I could've made this an only part, but I didn't want it to be super long <33

Also, please tell me if I'm incorrect regarding the trans experience in any part of this. I'll gladly correct it.

.

You would think time is a different concept to immortal beings like them. They’ve been alive for thousands of years, so what’s a couple more in comparison? What feels like an eternity for you probably translates to the blink of an eye in their standards. However, what no one expected was how desperately they’d need you once you went back home.

It started with the constant chatting and their messages keeping your fingers glued to your DDD for almost an entire week since your departure. Of course, it became a problem when you couldn’t even get dressed without them demanding your attention and immediate response, so it quickly changed to phone calls.

As a result, less than a couple of months later, while you worked to adapt once more to your mundane human life, hearing you talk with your mysterious friends on the speaker became the new normal for everyone around you.

They organised themselves to not overwhelm you, assigning turns to each other so everyone could have equal opportunities to keep in touch with you. As expected, not all of them respected their brothers’ time with you, but that’s something you would only know thanks to your access to their private chats.

And as you can imagine, they entertain you quite a lot.

One day they’re detailing a normal day at RAD and the next they’re explaining why Lucifer hanged the six of them and even Lord Diavolo for most of the weekend.

It’s not like they’re looking for trouble, but they still manage to find it.

And you can bet all your money they will be telling you all about it.

You’re thankful, though.

Somehow, although not that surprisingly, their stories become a great source of comfort once you’re alone during your hospital stay or while in bed, letting your body recover. Their nonsense gives you a strange sense of normalcy that keeps everything around you simpler and easier to process.

Your body might’ve changed, but some things will always stay the same.

The most difficult part of all is lying to the brothers about why you’re at the hospital.

It isn’t like you actively want to keep them in the dark. After all, they’re your friends, the ones who love you and would accept you no matter your appearance, but they do have a tendency to carry everything to an extreme and you seriously doubt they’d change that in a matter of seconds.

However, days turn to weeks and months and, although you physically get better, you still keep it a secret from the brothers. Is it the guilt? You’re not sure. It eats you alive and you berate yourself daily for hiding something so important from people who adore you so much, yet you’re unable to confess.

It all comes to an end when you suddenly bump into Solomon in the middle of the street.

Which is actually… kind of weird?

Despite being the one physically closest to you, you’ve barely seen the sorcerer since you both left the Devildom a couple of years ago. Normally, he’s too occupied to respond to your check-up messages right away, let alone hang out with you, so the sight of him leaves you dumbfounded.

Funnily enough, the sight of you also leaves him dumbfounded.

You both stare at each other for more than a couple of seconds while your brains process the situation.

And before you can realise what’s happening, you’re falling.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom @mia4gotcookiez

[onyx-brimmstone]

Unfinished Ren Comfort Fic

Word Count: 1,259 Warnings: Idek lmao

Btw, this was written MONTHS ago, back in February, then I lost motivation to write it :3

Opening: Angel getting to work? - Angel is definitely traumatized from their previous partner - Ren knows? Got rid of them, but they’d already done quite a bit of damage to Angel -Angel’s parents are unaware of the abuse

“Angel? Did you still wanna go w’me to the store later?” Ren was still on his bike, helmet resting on the gas tank as he watched the person of his dreams, his desires, his obsessions.

“Huh..? Oh- yeah, of course! What’re we havin for dinner again?” They’d been spacing out more than usual, struggling to stay focused on things, responding slower. It was obvious they were struggling but they wouldn’t tell anyone what was wrong, not even Moth knew. “I gotta go clock in.. I’ll see you later..”

Ren watched as his Angel went into the library, he waited awhile before putting his helmet back on. He’d probably stick around the area while he waited for them to get done with work, maybe bring them a snack or coffee later on.

They did their work on auto pilot, Elanor would catch them just staring off into space, she was worried for her colleague. Conan pulled them aside at some point, asking if they were alright, though seeing their thousand yard stare he ultimately decided to have them leave work early. They called Ren, who of course picked up on the first ring, he usually did.

“Ren..? Uh.. could you come pick me up? I left work early..” They were quieter than usual as they spoke, pacing the sidewalk slowly, picking at a scab on their collarbone.

“Of course Angel, I’ll be there in a few minutes.. But are you okay?” He’d been right around the corner, sitting at a cafe while he played some random mobile games. While he got up and went to his bike they responded, a quiet ‘yes’ was all they could muster before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. They paced around slowly, still picking at the scab on their collarbone, though the actual scab was long gone, small specks of blood had beaded in the most center part of the small wound.

It didn’t take Ren longer than a couple minutes to get to the library, he called out to Angel but they didn’t notice for a moment, lost in thought until he called for them again. Once they registered who it was they walked over and put their helmet on, Ren adjusting the straps as usual before they got onto the motorcycle. He wouldn’t go until he was sure Angel was feeling secure on the bike.

Ren was keeping an eye on Angel as they walked through the store together, noting how quiet and withdrawn they were, it was so unlike them. His heart ached, wanting to help them, make them smile again.. They continued through the store just as quiet, it’d been nearly two years since they left, two years since they realized they couldn’t stay. It was terrifying to leave, they’d been on edge the whole time, only taking the most important things.

God.. how had it already been two years? What had they even been doing..? They couldn’t remember a lot of it, so many things had happened, and they’d reunited with some friends- met new ones.. They’d met Ren.. he was so sweet, definitely a change of pace.. They didn’t even realize they’d gotten done with the store and gone back to Ren’s apartment, which truthfully had basically become theirs too, given how much time they’d been spending there. They watched as Ren went to the kitchen, putting groceries away.. What had he said before? Something about food.. Dinner? Was he making dinner? They went to the kitchen, wanting to help, they should help with dinner.. Right?

“Angel? Did you need something?” He watched them, they were clearly spaced out as they shook their head and grabbed a pan out to cook up what they were gonna have for dinner.. What were they having?

“What.. what are we having for dinner again..? I.. I can’t remember.. I’m sorry..” They felt guilt wash over them, how could they forget something so simple? Ren sighed a bit and stepped towards Angel, though they flinched back a bit, they hadn’t done that for awhile.

“Angel- it’s okay.. I’m not gonna do anythin t���you.. We haven’t decided on dinner yet..” He offered a hand, hoping they’d take it, hoping they’d confide in him their worries and troubles. His hopes were short lived though as they gave a reassuring smile.

“Right- so.. How about uh..” They looked at the groceries, thinking, racking their brain for ideas on dinner. They couldn’t think, memories and emotions clouding their head, it’d been so sudden to them that they felt this way, but it’s been building for weeks, they just didn’t notice. Ren did though, he saw the way they began to jump at small sounds, look over their shoulder in public, the way they began walking around quieter, closing the doors as quietly as possible. He was trying to help them but it wasn’t really doing much, and somehow he knew pushing it would make it worse, perhaps it was from all the stalking he did, but who knows?

“I uh- I-I gotta use the bathroom- I’ll be back-” They stepped back before turning on their heel and going to the bathroom, vision beginning to blur as they went, tears welling in their eyes while they closed the door. They didn’t even bother with the lights, it was dark, and the dark was safer. They slid down the wall, head in their hands as they began breathing faster, though everything else felt slow, they could hear their heart pounding in their head as their ears rang. They clutched their shirt, trying to catch their breath, though it seemed like an impossible task. Their lungs wouldn’t fill, they kept trying, breathing faster as tears began falling. The seconds felt like hours, their muscles hurt, and their chest strung as their nails dug into it through their shirt. Words echoed in their ears, screams of anger, the sounds of dishes being thrown and broken. They clamped their hand over their mouth, muffling whatever noises they’d been making, fear ripping through them like a wolf killing it’s prey. How long had they been in the bathroom? They had no clue, but they couldn’t move, no matter how hard they’d try, they couldn’t move.

Eventually though, there was a small knock at the door, and their eyes snapped to it, their heart beat faster, and they tried to stay quiet, they couldn’t be heard.. Right? They scooted away from the door, they were tempted to go under the sink, though it was close to the door.. It was the safest thing for now. It didn’t take long for the door to slowly open, Ren peeking into the dark room, trying to figure out where they were.

“Angel..? What’s going on..? Are you okay?” He stepped in, looking around before looking under the sink, his eyes were soft, though it was hard to see with the limited light level. They were frozen, tears rolling down their cheeks, hand clamped over their mouth. Ren slowly reached for them, and they flinched away, turning their head away as if bracing for impact.

“Oh- Angel.. I- I won’t hurt you- I just wanna help..” He spoke slower, not squishing his words together, he didn’t want to startle them. It took awhile of just sitting quietly in the dark before they moved, they very slowly looked at Ren,

[the-fic-locker]

The Widow | Part One

Pairing: Min Byungyu x f!reader x Baek Yoonho

Content Warning: character death, grief, mentions of blood, tears, loneliness

Genre: angst, eventual fluff, eventual smut, slow burn

Summary: Yoonho never imagined that his best friend would keep such a monumental secret from him, but after his death, Yoonho is tasked with breaking the news to someone he has never met.

Word Count: 2,685

Author's Note: This has not been proofread, so I will be going back eventually and editing, however, this is also part of a series, so as parts come out, I will be trying to edit. I cannot guarantee how quickly parts will come out, nor how long this series will be exactly. Just bear with me and I hope you enjoy!

next | series info | masterlist

In hindsight, Yoonho supposed he really should have figured it out sooner. Byungyu’s distaste for battle wasn’t new, but the desire to join the contract sector as an average citizen was new, one he didn’t expect. The man’s financial situation was elite. He had participated in enough dungeons that he had a very lucrative bank account. He didn’t have to do anything. Though Yoonho supposed he couldn’t blame the man for wanting to do something with his life, though why he didn’t choose to go into the medical field was, well, confusing. 

When his best friend had denied him the first few times, it was understandable. Jeju Island had already claimed so many lives, including their best friends, but something had suddenly changed his mind. Yoonho didn’t think anything of it; he was just happy to have the talented healer with them. He should have asked more questions. 

“President Baek, exactly how much did you know about Min Byungyu’s situation?” Chairman Go had asked shortly after the fourth and final raid of Jeju Island. 

He should have been paying more attention, but his chest ached with grief, and his muscles were sore. Hunter Sung had managed to heal them somehow, but nothing could take away the stinging in his hands when his claws protruded. All he wanted to do was go home and crack a beer, and sit in the silence of his empty apartment he never had the time to fill with personal effects. He wanted to wallow in pity and self-hatred until a new day dawned and he had to go back to his guild and act like everything was ok; worse, to celebrate the enormous victory. 

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, sir. He wanted to give up being a hunter all together and go work as a custodian in an office firm,” Yoonho had explained.

The look the Chairman had given him was diplomatic, but there was a twinge of something, perhaps sorrow, hidden behind his eyes. Yoonho had glanced up at Manager Jinchul Woo who was dutifully standing behind the chairman, but as always, the man was more difficult to read than thousand-year-old hieroglyphics written in decayed clay. 

“So you weren’t aware of his private and personal life?” Chairman Go asked, sounding surprised. 

There was another thing to be guilty over. He called himself Byungyu’s best friend, but he apparently didn’t know anything at all about him! He’d only ever been to the man’s apartment once, and he’d since moved. He hadn’t set foot in the new, larger place. He didn’t interact with the man all that much anymore, except for the occasional text, which was usually Byungyu sending him memes he’d respond to three days later. There was the occasional beer, but Yoonho had been so depressed after losing Eunseok in the third raid that he’d let Byungyu slip farther and farther from his mind. 

“Well, regardless,” Chairman Go sighed, seemingly disappointed. Even Jinchul seemed to be uncomfortable now, shifting his weight from one foot to the other restlessly. “We have a… less than comfortable task to handle. Typically, I’d send Jinchul, but he has been… hugged out… for a while and needs a break, plus he isn’t always as delicate as this situation requires.”

Yoonho wished the old man would get to the point so he could go home. He glanced up at Jinchul, who didn’t seem to care that he’d been called indelicate. Yoonho doubted there was anything about him that was delicate at all. And hugged out? What was that supposed to mean? 

As Yoonho was waiting for the chairman to finish his long-winded explanation, Jinchul disappeared, stepping out of the room to grab something off his desk before returning, holding a small, white box. 

“As you know, upon awakening, we take a memento from every Hunter to deliver back to the family of a fallen Hunter. Byungyu’s token was changed two years ago from a patch from his uniform, a typical token for a bachelor, into this.”

As Chairman Go finished, Jinchul opened the white box. Resting inside, on a white cushion, was a silver locket with a silver chain. There was something engraved upon the top, but Yoonho didn’t feel like using his heightened sight to strain to read it. 

“He has asked that this locket be delivered to the widow he’d be leaving behind, and we thought you should be the one to do it.”

The fact that his best friend was married and he had no clue was another punch to the gut, but what’s perhaps worse was thinking about the grieving woman in their apartment, waiting for her husband to come home. She would know that their helicopter had landed. She’d know that they’d won. She probably wouldn’t know about Byungyu’s death yet. The camera had evidently cut out by then. And now…

“Sir… respectfully… I can’t…” he mumbled, already feeling numb. 

Chairman Go pulled something out of his pocket and placed it in Yoonho’s hands. It was a letter, folded a few times on otherwise unremarkable paper. As Yoonho unfolded it, his hands shaking, he gasped as he found Byungyu’s handwriting scribbled as neatly as the man could. 

Yoonho, If you’re reading this letter, I can only assume it is because something happened and I have lost my life. First of all, don’t beat yourself up about it. Whatever happened, I’m sure I went out trying to protect my friends, and there is no better way in my book. However, now that I am gone, I am leaving you with a difficult task. I am sorry this has fallen to you.  I have a wife. Her name is (y/n). She pieced me back together after Eunseok’s death, and we got married a year later. I know this is a bomb to drop, and I tried to tell you, many times, but neither of us were in a good state at the beginning and as you feel deeper and deeper into your guild, using the work to keep you from actually feeling the sorrow, I moved on, and I didn’t think you’d understand.  Yoonho, being a Hunter is hard work and it’s messy. I have never regretted my decision to leave, but if something has pulled me back in, I know I died happily for you. Do not let my death pull you into another depression. This one might kill you. You were reckless enough as it is. I am not mad at you for however you pulled me back into the game. Do not let your mind convince your heart that I am. And don’t throw yourself into your work to punish yourself. That’s not doing anyone any favors. Instead, you can atone for my death (if you still feel like you need to) in two ways.  Take the locket and a letter back to my Jimin. Tell her how I died, she needs to know everything. Comfort her. She worries a lot and has habits similar to your own. Don’t let her kill herself through her work. Be there for each other. Stop trying to take the blame for everyone else's decisions. We all make our own. You have never forced anyone to do anything. We make decisions based on your words sometimes, but they are still our decisions. Stop letting yourself be convinced that you’re a god who mind-controls everyone else into doing your bidding. Everything I have ever done has been of my own volition.  I wish you the best in this life, Yoonho. Don’t be afraid to let yourself live life and find love. Hunters are constantly busy, but you can have it all. You can be a Hunter and a life. It’s time for them to stop being one in the same.  I will see you on the other side, my friend.  Love,  Byungyu

The letter had tears pricking to the corners of his eyes and he finally understood the smile Byungyu had given him as Jinwoo had released his shadow. He clenched the letter tightly as looked up at the chairman, only nodding once. He’d watched as Chairman Go fished out the second letter and then he was dismissed, locket and letter tucked inside the same box in his shaking hands as he made his way to the car and punched in the address he’d been given. 

So here he was, standing in the hallway of the apartment building he’d been directed to, staring at the plain white door that matched all the others, reading the number from Jinchul’s text for the third time to be absolutely sure he was at the right door. 

He could hear movement inside and music. There was the occasional clang of something hard slamming into something else that almost made his skin crawl. He wanted to cut tail and run, to pretend this wasn’t happening, but his arm seemed to act on its own as it raised and knocked firmly. 

The music stopped and he could hear bare feet padding across the floor to the door, his ears picking the sound up easily. He heard the door unlock, and a second later, it was pulled open, revealing his best friend's widow dressed in sweatpants and a stained t-shirt. 

“Baek Yoonho?” your voice was full of confusion. He couldn’t blame you. 

“You know who I am?” he asked. 

“Of course,” you said, wiping your soapy hands on your pants. “Gyu has so many pictures of you and Eunseok all over this place. It sometimes feels like a shrine,” you chuckle softly. 

“How can I help you? Is Gyu ok? He hasn’t come home yet and by the look of you, you all just got back.”

“Can I come inside?” Yoonho spoke, voice soft. 

“Uh yeah sure,” you hold the door open wider. 

He stepped through, admiring the place. The door opened into the front room, living room, where there was a paused Spotify playlist casting from the television. There were slightly mismatched couches pointed at the television, the longer of the two was a thick, plush burnt orange, and the other, smaller one gray with a blanket thrown over the back of it. There was a coffee table with books stacked up on one side and a vase with a handful of roses on the other side. As you led him to the couches, he could see the kitchen from a serving counter window with three bar stools on the end. Inside the kitchen, he could see a strainer full of wet dishes and the sink full of soapy water with a washcloth perched on the side, likely discarded when he’d knocked. 

You motioned for him to sit on the orange couch while you sat down on the gray one, folding your hands into your lap and looking at him expectantly. 

Yoonho’s hands began to shake, and the box in his pocket suddenly felt like it was scorching his skin. He clasped his hands together, trying to hide the way they quavered. 

“Mr. Baek… Where is my husband?” Your voice was quiet, but his accelerated hearing could pick up on the way it cracked on the final word. 

“He…” Yonho had to clear his throat and blink away the tears that threatened to gather. “He didn’t make it… He died… trying to protect me,” his voice came out hoarse and broken in a half-choked sob. 

You were quiet momentarily, processing what he’d just said. When you finally spoke, your voice was strong but uneven. 

“Did he suffer?”

Yoonho tried to think back. Had he? When he saw that things arm go through him… all he could see was blind rage. 

“Not for long. It was over quickly. But he managed…” he swallowed. Should he tell you that his soul saved someone? No. Probably not. And he promised Jinwoo to keep that confidential anyway. “He managed to save one more life before… he was truly gone.”

He looked up into your face. You had silent tears streaming down your cheeks and made no move to brush them away. Your bottom lip trembled, and your chest heaved with labored breathing. 

“I’m not sure if you’re aware… but when becoming a Hunter under the Association, they provide the Association a token in the event they don’t make it back from a raid. This was his,” reaching into his pocket, Yoonho pulled out the box and opened it, placing it on the coffee table. 

You took out the letter on top first and, using his abilities, if against his will, he was able to read the message her husband had left for her. 

My Love,  If you are reading this, I have left you alone in this life and in this world and for that, I am truly sorry. Please understand that if I died in a raid, it was because I will always be there to back up Yoonho and to protect him from himself. He isn’t the best at patiently waiting for the right time to strike, and if no one else is there to back him up when he pounces, I will always be there.  Yoonho scoffed at that. ‘Pounces.’ He wasn’t a cat! He didn’t pounce! Please understand and don’t hate him for it. It was not his fault.  Let him be there for you. You’re going to need to lean on each other. Don’t let the grief drag you down. And don’t let him blame himself.  You both meant so much to me. Know that though I died protecting him in battle, I died protecting you back home. I could not go on living without you and I know that is unfair since that is exactly what I am asking of you. Be strong and move on. Don’t let my death hold you back from living your life.  We will-

You put the letter down before Yoonho could finish reading and buried your face in your hands to cover the wails that left your lips. Yoonho wasn’t sure what came over him. Maybe it was Byungyu’s letter to him, maybe it was the fact that he’d always hated seeing women cry. Whatever the reason, he found himself moving onto the gray couch beside you and placing his hand on your back, stroking it soothingly. He wasn’t expecting you to lean into him, burying your face in his side. It took him a second to respond, but when he did, he held you against his side securely and continued to rub your back. 

You sat like that for a while. You sobbing and Yoonho comforting you in any way he knew how. When your shoulders finally stopped shaking, and you shifted against him, he loosened his hold, allowing you to sit back up. Your eyes were red and bloodshot, but you looked back to the table where the box with the locket still sat. 

Picking up the box, you examined it before lifting it out of the box and opening the locket. There, resting in the two tiny frames, was a picture of  Byungyu giving his most dazzling smile, dressed in his Hunter’s uniform with dirt stained on his cheek. It was an image taken shortly after the first raid under the White Tiger’s guild. The second was you and Byungyu holding onto one another on your wedding day, looking at each other with gazes full of love. 

A sob left your throat as you closed the locket and passed the necklace to Yoonho. 

“Help me put it on,” you said.

Taking it, you turned your back to him and lifted your hair. Yoonho slid the locket around your neck and carefully clasped it in the back. When it was secure, you let your hair fall over the chain and looked down at the jewelry resting on your shirt. 

“Now I guess I have two tokens from him,” you whispered. 

Yoonho was going to ask what you meant until he watched you place your hand on your belly, a sad smile spreading across your face. Yoonho had never felt so sick. 

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.6 K Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort (but also not?) Prompt: At the Potter's. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 49: High Hopes

January, 3rd, 1977

“Kids, come eat something before you leave,” Hope called from the dining room. You were just finishing up packing, Remus had borrowed you his wand and you were putting everything in place (including a mild arrangement of his room that had been evidently changed since you got there) and he had also allowed you to gemino some of the pictures he had in his wall. 

You had picked one with the four Marauders, one of 11 year old Remus and Sirius smiling at the camera, one of James and Sirius when they got on the quidditch team, one of Peter working on the map, the one of Sirius you thought was adorable the first time you saw it, one with Lily and Remus doing a presentation and a few others with Sirius and Remus in which you thought they looked adorable or that you could use to tease them later (Hope had given you a few of Rem that were basically gold). 

“Coming,” you said as you grabbed the pictures and started arranging them back onto his wall with a flick of his wand. Thankfully Remus’ wand seemed to like you since every time you used it she would respond and do exactly what you’d intended. “Rem, I’m leaving your wand on the desk,” you said after closing the suitcase and taking it in your hands as you stepped out. 

“Sweetheart, let me help you with that,” Hope said as she saw you walk with your suitcase in hand and was surprised when she pulled on it and it shot upwards pretty fast. You managed to catch it and her before she tripped backwards. “Levitation spell,” you said with an apologetic smile. 

“Sometimes I forget how many useful spells you wizards have for things like this,” she said with a smile and carefully took the suitcase from your hands and sat it in a corner of the room. “Could you add a spell like that to my suitcases, honey?” she asked as she turned to Lyall who nodded in return. “I don’t get why he didn’t tell me about those earlier,” she added as she shook her head. “I’ve got some fruit in the fridge, could you help me get it?” she asked you. 

You nodded and followed, this time the fae had sent her an assortment of tropical fruits, everything from bananas to watermelons and dragonfruit. You weren’t sure how they managed to get such a harvest in the middle of winter, but it probably had to do a lot with fae magic that you didn’t yet understand.

Remus was out of his room with a band shirt and a pair of light-wash jeans. He had one of his jumpers in his hands, but his house was warm enough for him to only wear his shirt and clearly he was confident enough to not wear thousands of layers at home. He didn’t mind if you or his parents saw the scars on his arms, you all knew he was a werewolf, and while he was sometimes self-conscious about you seeing them, you had made it clear –on countless occasions– that you would never be repulsed by them. 

So when you saw him, with his sweater casually crumpled up in his hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Hope was looking at you attentively, and she was even more confident about her initial thoughts now than she had been by everything she’d gotten from the letters, she just hoped Remus would understand the reference she had given him so she wouldn’t have to be blunt about it.

“What are Sex Pistols?” Lyall asked in a judgeful manner as he stared at Remus’ shirt with a frown.

You laughed because that was the exact reaction you expected a wizard to have after seeing the shirt and Hope was the one to answer, “A muggle band, you’ve heard them!” She said and then she started singing “Now I’ve got a reason, now I’ve got a reason…” Lyall seemed as puzzled as before and Hope just sighed in defeat, “He’s truly hopeless.” 

You refrained from making the “Well he has a Hope” pun since it didn’t seem proper to make puns with the names of your friend’s parents. Although, a big part of you thought Hope wouldn’t really mind. 

“I thought you said she was a drummer when she was in a band,” you said, turning to Remus with a gasp. 

“I was,” she said with a shrug. 

“But your singing is fantastic!” 

She smiled. “Someone appreciates it,” she added in an exaggerated tone and walked your way, placed her hands on your back and motioned for you to sit on the table. “Come, darling, you can have all the strawberries left.”

“Mum!” Remus complained. 

“You’ve never told me I sing nice, Beag Gille. Suck it up, as you kids would say.” 

You had to hold back the giggle that threatened to escape your mouth as you sat down next to Hope. She had prepared some toast for jam. Of course, it wouldn’t be just any bread –this was Hope Lupin we were talking about– it was sourdough with dried cranberries and spices. You were going to eat it with butter and jam (that she had made with fae fruit, obviously) and even cream cheese (that one she bought on the muggle market a few miles from the cliffs, she was extra, but she wasn’t that extra). 

Hope really had served all the leftover berries on your plate, and she wouldn’t let you offer them to the boys. “They can eat them whenever they’re here, who knows when you’ll come back,” she explained and told you to ignore their pretty puppy eyes. 

At least you weren’t the only one who thought Remus had pretty puppy eyes. 

You nodded and continued eating, although you slipped two of them under the table in a very muggle magician kind of way, and nudged Remus’ leg with your own. He looked at you confused and you merely nodded downwards as you brought a piece of bread to your mouth. He looked down and instantly noticed your closed fist. 

You nodded again and he pulled his hand down in a casual sort of way, brushing his fingers over your hand to let you know he was there since you were telling Hope something about the floating spell. Eventually, he pulled his palm down underneath your fist and you turned your wrist over to let the berries fall on his hand. He allowed his hand to linger just a little bit more, enjoying the fact that he could touch you, and pulled away eventually. Grinning as he brought a piece of bread with peanut butter to his mouth. 

After breakfast, you waved your goodbyes to Remus’ parents. Lyall gave you a quick friendly hug and told you to take care and stay out of trouble while Hope embraced you for at least a minute, pulling you close to her as she did and squeezing you tightly. 

“Take care, all right? Cailín álainn?” 

You recognised one of those words, It’s what Remus had called you and Sirius once. But why would his mother call you “shit”?

“Álainn?” you asked. 

“My beautiful girl, of course,” she added and pressed a kiss to your hair. 

What did she say? Beautiful girl?!? But wasn’t that–

 “Off you go,” she added after finally separating from the embrace. “To have fun and all of that.” 

“But not too much fun,” Lyall added with an accusing finger directed towards Remus, but Hope was quick enough to push that finger out of the way and sigh at her husband.

“All the fun you want,” she said and took a small box from the mantel and opened it, revealing the very classic green of the floo powder. 

Remus took a handful and you did the same afterwards. “I’ll go first,” he said and threw the powder on the chimney as he said, “Potter’s Manor,” in a very clear voice. 

You were about to do the same when Hope pressed a hand on your shoulder. “You are a very strong woman,” she said as she stared at you directly. “A true hero.” You frowned, ready to refute her when she shook her head. “Take care of my Remus, will you? I know he’ll be taking care of you. You’re very dear to him.”

“Always,” you replied, without family left, your friends had become their equal and you would defend them with all your might if the situation needed it. Something like Christmas could not happen again. You refused to lose any more of your people. 

Hope smiled and pulled you into a quick hug, before turning you around with her hands and pushing you towards the chimney, “All right, Cailín álainn, no stalling, there are handsome men waiting for you on the other side.” You threw the powder into the fire. “Oh, and write me, darling. I want to hear all of your misadventures!” she said as you murmured the words and disappeared into the fireplace. 

Remus was on the other side, dusting off some remnant ashes from his pants as he looked around the living room, it seemed empty, he had already put on his sweater since the living room was chillier than his house, he was probably also being careful, in case there was anyone other than the Potters in the house. 

“Did we arrive at the right time?” you asked with a frown as you too dusted off your shoulder. 

“Yeah, they said about 10,” Remus replied as he checked his watch. It was 10:15, not English punctuality but that had been on his mum stalling the two of you.

Then you felt a hand gripping you from behind and pulling you upwards from the waist, you would have panicked, if you hadn’t instantly known it was Sirius. The invisibility cloak he had been wearing slipped from him as he buried his head on your neck. You had talked to Sirius and James every day, but that didn’t stop him from clinging to you the minute he spotted you. 

“How are you?” He whispered into your neck. 

“Kinda constrained,” you replied as you nodded towards his caging hands. 

“You know what I meant.” 

You swallowed, not quite sure if you were ready to talk about it all again. Thankfully, Prongs was there to save you. He took off the cloak with a rather exasperated sigh. “Pads! We were supposed to get them at the same time!” 

“Sorry,” Sirius mumbled in the least apologetic tone you’d heard. 

James shook his head and then pulled Moony into a short hug, “Merry Christmas, mate,” he said and then quite literally ripped you from Sirius’ grasp to give you a bear hug. 

“James, James, James,” you said as he overdid it with the squeezing. 

“Sorry,” he said as he pulled apart and you just shook your head with a smile in return. Sirius had pulled Remus into a similar hug, and he was still hugging the taller boy when James let go of you. You smiled when you saw how cosy they looked against each other and James placed his arm around your shoulder. 

“We’ve been waiting for you,” James said with a smile. “We need to discuss Marauder’s business.”

“But Peter’s not here,” you said. Sirius pulled apart from Remus who looked a little phased, took your suitcase and placed it on the table before plopping down on the sofa. 

“He’s on a family trip in Italy, he won’t be back ‘til after vacation, but we’ll write him the details,” Sirius said and then opened his arms and looked at you. “Come?” 

You rolled your eyes but did as told, secretly enjoying how clingy Sirius was, and sat on his lap like you often did. James sat on the table in front of you and pulled Moony by the arm so he would sit on the right in front of him,  next to you and Sirius. 

“We were thinking about a small little prank,” he said, “to mark our coming back to school and all that.”

“Yeah?” You asked, reclining onto Sirius and getting a little more comfortable. Remus, who had had you all to himself for more than a week, was having a rather hard time coping with the sudden space between the two of you. He was tempted to place his hand around Sirius’s shoulders and bring both of you closer to him, but he knew it wasn’t possible. 

“So Sirius and I were talking about the time you used the swamp bomb and how we had accidentally trapped a creature inside of it.” 

“And,” Sirius started from behind you. “We thought it was really interesting how the creature quite literally busted out the minute you exploded the bomb.” 

“It was not interesting,” Remus said almost bitterly. They hadn’t seen you fall, they hadn’t seen you in the water and they hadn’t smelled your fear as you stepped away from the murky water and frosted the lake. 

“From an impartial point of view,” you added with a shrug, clearly trying to excuse the boys’ words, you wouldn’t have used interesting to describe it either, but you kind of got what they meant by it. Remus had to hold back a scoff. He was having a hard time tolerating the bursting of the comfortable bubble you had both been immersed in. 

“Sorry Vix,” Sirius said with an apologetic look. “But hear us out. What if we put not one, but several creatures inside of a swamp bomb.” 

“Define creatures…” 

“Tadpoles,” Sirius said from behind, a small smirk playing on his lips. 

“You want them to turn into toads,” Remus said as he looked at the two boys, now a bit more invested in the prank. “Why?” 

“Because we want to infest Hogwarts with Toads,” James said with a satisfied smile. Sirius pulled a small crystal ball from his pocket and handed it over to you. Very condensed inside it, there was thick murky water. 

You took a look, “How many of them did you put in here?” you asked as you handed the ball to Remus, he pulled his hand faster than he normally would from yours, which made you frown. What’s with him? 

“About 17 dozen, Peter found a spawning bed filled with hundreds of them and the idea just came to us in an instant.” 

“We’ve been flying through the grounds to find some more, but most of them are frozen due to the snow.” 

“How many have you made?” You asked. 

James smiled, pulled a handful from his pocket, and placed it between your hands. Then he pulled another one and left it in Remus' hands. “Peter will be getting more in Italy, he promised.” 

“So we’ll have at least a hundred of these?” Remus asked. Sirius nodded. “How are you planning to explode them all at the same time?” 

“That’s why you two are here. You’re good with this kind of thing.” 

You scoffed with a smile, “You left us the hardest part!” 

“Try finding spawning beds and catching them in spheres, Vix,” Prongs retorted with a daring kind of face and stuck out your tongue to him. He gasped as he pulled back and played offended. 

“We could time-set them?” Remus offered. 

“Yeah, but what kind of charm would do that?” You asked. “A freezing charm, hiding them in the corner of classrooms and having them fall during first period?” 

“Told you they would figure it out,” Sirius said as he looked at the two of you with a proud smile and side eyes James who had a small frown and pursed lips. 

“Oh, that could actually work, but we’d have to perfect the charm so they all fall at the same time, if not they could figure it out and stop them from exploding,” Remus responded to you. 

“Does that mean one person would have to charm all of them? There’s no way in hell we’d have enough time.” 

“Not if we make the spell and teach the others how to do it,” he retorted. “Maybe we can run some tests… with toadless swamp bombs.” 

“Got some of those?” you asked James. 

“We can make them,” he responded with a shrug. 

And that’s how you set yourself up for the task, while Remus and you figured out how to deal with the spell, James and Sirius went out to make some toadless swamp bombs for you to test them. You didn’t see the Potters until it was dinner time. 

Effie was more than thrilled over the fact that you were staying at her house and she asked Mellie and Picksie to prepare some treats for you and Remus while Monty cooked dinner. “Boys, we’re talking girls stuff,” she announced after setting the table and pulled you to the side. You looked at them with a worried expression and Sirius shrugged, while James gave you a teasing thumbs up. 

Effie took you to a room filled with books and looked at you with a small frown. “You’ve already talked to Dumbledore?” 

It might have been toned like a question, but it sounded a lot more like a statement. “Yes.” 

She nodded and placed her hand on your shoulder, she had a sad sort of look on her face that made you feel like you were being pitied, which had you shift uncomfortably. It was completely different to the way she had looked at you back at the train station when you first met her, and you felt like the memories were flooding back. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked simply. “Have you talked about it to someone?” 

You hesitated to answer. “I don’t,” you said honestly. “I’d rather not think about it altogether.” 

She sighed and then nodded, as if she both knew it was a bad idea to suck it all up, and understood exactly where you were coming from. “You should process it, not now–” she added when she saw the deepening of your frown. “But you should eventually talk about it, even if it’s just to yourself.” 

You nodded to her words, “Now… since you’ll be staying with the boys and I know you’re dating Sirius, I’ve brought you this,” she said, handing you a crystal bottle with greenish liquid inside.

You knew well what it was since McGonagall had shown you an identical potion back in her special class. 

“Monty has already talked to the boys, but I wanted to make sure you were also taking care of yourself. Especially now that–” She didn’t finish, but you knew exactly what she meant. 

Especially now that you don’t have a mum.

“Thank you, Effie,” you said honestly, and she instantly pulled you into a hug. 

“I’m really sorry for everything you’ve gone through. I’ll work even harder so these kinds of things don’t happen again.”  You didn’t say anything, and she continued. “You were incredibly brave,” she added, “defending a friend against them, it must have been a tough call to make.” 

That had been the easiest part. You had never hesitated on whether to try to save Nina and your mother. The hard part was failing and having to live with it. 

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for showing them that we aren’t all on their side and that we won’t stand down to their bigotry.” 

You didn’t speak much, but Effie continued to give you praises for a couple of minutes, and then she told you a bit about the order and gave you a small keychain with a protean charm that would allow you to call her in case you ever needed her help. After that, she gave you a small pat on the back and told you dinner was ready. 

You were still a little shaken by the time you stepped out of the room and Remus was struggling not to wrap you in his arms and pull you into a tight hug. But it was Sirius the one who did it, he pressed a bunch of kisses to your face and then one on your lips. It was quick, and it had been a second, but it was enough to have James grumble something about being forgotten because you were around, and complaining to Moony when Sirius had you sit next to him, on his usual spot. 

Even though the talk with Effie had shaken you again, you were quick to let yourself be drowned by the merry atmosphere, James and Sirius complaining and somehow managed to flip the switch, leaving the problems at the back of your mind and actually enjoying the dinner and conversation even if the words wouldn’t quite reach your mind. 

Anything to avoid, anything to forget, even if only for a minute. 

Remus had been looking at you attentively throughout the dinner, the way Sirius was being extra touchy with you, he had probably noticed how upset you were too. Sirius wasn’t stupid. But he was waiting for the right time to talk to you. He was giving you space, but holding you close while at it. It was sweet, the two of you were a really sweet match, one made in heaven. And he was nothing more than a serpent, a tempting –or perhaps tempted– serpent that had fallen in love. 

He would have to put up some space, he would have to step away, because if any of you had a taste of his apple then that beautiful relationship, that made him feel so many things at once, would crumble, and he would be to blame. 

But how could he step away? You had been through hell and back and you needed your friends, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, you needed them. And he was your best friend, for fucks sake. How could he prioritise his feelings over yours? Remus started to feel like a monster again, and it was not because he was a werewolf. But rather because he had allowed himself to bask on the idea of being with you and seeing you with Sirius, how close you were to each other, it just reminded him that it wasn’t possible. It wasn’t possible to have either of you. 

You might have allowed the conversation to swallow you, but you weren’t blind, you could tell there was something going on with Rem, he was different, he had been different the instant you appeared in Potter’s manor. And while at first, you thought it might have been because he was in a different house, it was like you could almost see the inner conflict inside his eyes. It was something similar to what you saw when you looked in the mirror, but at the same time, it was vastly different. 

Whatever it was that was troubling Remus, wasn’t related to what had happened that night, even if he had cried for Nina when you told him the story, even if he had been sad about your mother and had hugged you until you stopped crying, Remus’ mind was plagued with a different feeling, you weren’t sure why, but you knew. 

“That was delicious,” you said with a polite smile. “Thank you, Monty.” 

Monty beamed at your praise and sent you a very James Potter-like wink, “You’re welcome darling, you may dine here whenever you want. And I mean it, I don’t care if James and Sirius are busy, you’re family now.” 

It had been a short, almost throw-away comment, but you felt your heart swell with warmth when he said it. You had lost your parents, but you had gained Hope and you had gained Effie and Monty. You might have felt lonely, but you wouldn’t be alone. 

“That’s right,” James said as he placed his hands around your shoulder. “She’s like the sister I never got, isn’t she boys?” 

“Well she’s not like a sister to me,” Sirius said and sent you a wink that pulled a small chuckle from you. 

Remus didn’t respond. 

And again, you noticed. It was like you were noticing many things and a lot of them had to do with Remus. Like that one thing that you had seen hints of in the past was finally revealing itself and you weren’t sure exactly what it was, but you had the feeling that you’d be able to tell soon enough.

“Gross,” James said and pulled you closer to him. 

“You’ll take her to her room?” Effie asked. 

“Indeed,” he responded as he dragged you up their stairwell, “I’ll even give her a short tour.” 

“Aha?” you asked. 

He nodded in return and stepped right in front of you when you reached the end of the stairwell. “So, that way we have the office, the library and my parent’s room,” he said and moved to the other side of the hallway and pointed at a door. “This is mine and Sirius’ room, Mum and Dad used an extending charm to make you a room and Rem will stay with us.” 

“You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble…” 

“Because you always end up sleeping all together?” James teased. “Mum is open-minded but not that open-minded.” 

You gasped and punched James on the shoulder, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” He replied. “I believe Mellie and Picksie have already taken your stuff there, so you should be set to sleep if that’s what you want. You have your own bathroom, although there is also one at the end of the hall, you already know the one that’s downstairs, yeah?” 

You nodded in response. 

“Good, any questions?” 

“Nope.” 

“Excellent. Now, it’s not that late, and we’re planning to play a muggle board game Sirius got sent by Andromeda. It’s called Monopoly.” 

“Oh, I know how to play,” Remus said casually. 

“Meet you in our room?” James asked. 

“Yeah,” you said with a nod and walked inside yours. 

You took a quick shower and changed into a pair of comfortable pyjamas. With a towel still around your shoulders to catch the wetness of your hair, you knocked on their door. James was setting up the game and Sirius looked confused as Remus tried to explain the instructions to him, the three were sitting on the floor. You approached them and after sitting down, you carefully took the instructions from Remus’ hand. Again, he was quick to pull away from you and you tried to ignore the feeling as you sank into your seat and started to read through them. You were also slightly confused. The whole “put houses and hotels” was a concept you weren’t really familiar with, it was nothing like Wizard’s Chess! 

“So, you got it?” Remus asked.

“I have to pay if I fall on your property? But why? You would never charge me, we’re friends,” Sirius said. 

“Yes, but it’s the game’s rule. If he doesn’t charge you because you’re friends then he wouldn’t charge any of us and he would lose the game,” you explained.

“And what’s with this money?” he added as he took one of the bills from the game. “It looks so weird. But muggles also use paper, I remember that. How do they protect against falsification, like gemino and muggle forgers?”

“Sirius! You’re not thinking of using magic while playing, are you?” You said as you threw him a look.

“Is it against the rules? It’s not in here,” he added as he took the paper from your hands and showed it. 

“Of course, it isn’t,” you said as you took it from his hands. “It’s a muggle game Sirius, they don’t add ‘Spells are forbidden’ in the rules like we do.” 

“So that means no magic?” he asked. 

“No,” Remus and you said at the same time. 

“And no duplicating the money if you ran out either,” James warned. 

“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t be against the rules.”

You gave Sirius a stern look and turned to Remus, it was as if he instantly knew what you wanted since he handed over his wand. “Accio pencil.” 

A pencil flew from James’ desk and towards your hand. You caught it with ease and wrote down two new rules on the paper. 

THE USE OF ANY KIND OF MAGIC IS FORBIDDEN 

FORGING THE MONEY (BE IT BY MUGGLE MEANS OR WIZARDING ONES) IS ALSO FORBIDDEN.

“Now it’s against the rules.” 

“I’ve always found it fascinating how Moony’s wand just works when you use it,” James said as he looked at the item in question in disbelief. 

“You’re just jealous you can’t use it,” Sirius said as he took Remus’ wand and effortlessly levitated the pencil back to the desk. 

“I’m sure I can if I try hard enough,” James said, taking the wand in his hands and flicking it about. Nothing happened. He flicked it again and still nothing. He did again, with more force, and the pencil flicked from the spot and launched towards him. You were quick enough to move the game board over his face and the pencil’s tip crashed against it. 

“Shit, it made a dent,” you said as you pulled the board down and looked at the place that the pencil had, pretty much stabbed into. Right above the Angel of Islington, there was a dent in the shape of the pencil, the graphite tip had broken and was now stuck in the cardboard. 

“That would have been your face, mate,” Sirius said while James took Moony’s wand between his thumb and index fingers –as if it had been a bomb– and placed it in front of Remus’ crossed feet. 

Remus rolled his eyes and took his wand, he flicked in the air and both the chipped pencil and the gameboard were repaired, he didn’t even have to say a word. 

“Yeah, thanks Vix,” He said as he turned to you. You just shrugged in response. It had been almost instinctive, you didn’t even think before acting, you saw the pencil shake and you knew something bad might have happened. “Be my team.” 

“There are no teams in Monopoly,” Remus said with a sigh. 

“Well we could change that,” James said with a shrug. 

“If they didn’t change the rules for me to forge money, then they’re not gonna change them for you to steal my girlfriend.”

“How about we just start playing instead?” you offered, and in between you and Remus started distributing the money and placing things on the board. 

“I’ll be the dog,” Sirius said, instantly taking the small metal dog from Remus’ hands. 

“I’ll take the car,” James said. 

“And you, Little Witch?” 

“You pick first,” you said simply, and Remus stared at the pieces left in his hand like he wasn’t sure which one to take, and eventually he took the thimble. Pushing the rest of the pieces your way. 

You took the small battleship and placed it on “Go”. The rest of the boys did the same. 

“Hey Moons, can I have my £200?” James said.

“It’s only after the first round,” he explained. 

“It’s on the rules Prongs, didn’t you read them?” Sirius added as he handed him the paper and James scoffed at his hypocrisy. 

You laughed at their interaction and took the dice in your hands before shaking them and throwing them on the board, “Seven? Alright you go,” you said as you handed them to Remus who got a 10. James got an eight and Sirius got a 3.

“Good, so I start,” Remus said and threw the dice again, moving towards the spot marked on the board. 

The first couple of rounds were uneventful. You were all just playing around, and it wasn’t until at least 40 minutes later that things started to get a little more complicated. 

James had gotten possession of all the orange properties after making a deal with Sirius to exchange an orange for the last railroad that he needed to complete the set. Remus had somehow managed to get the entirety of the 3rd line and while you had 3 houses on Park Lane, no one had fallen even close to either of them in the last two rounds. 

“Remus please,” Sirius pleaded. “Please, please, let me go, just this once, I’ll pay you as soon as someone falls on Kings Cross. James is super close, look.” 

Remus shook his head. “I’m sorry Pads, rules are rules.” 

“But you let Vix go a couple of rounds ago.” 

“She gave me her get-out-of-jail card in exchange, and I’ve fallen there twice already. What would you give me in exchange?” 

“Moony!” Sirius whined. James had already taken his pink cards a round earlier when he fell and also had no money to pay for it. He would have to mortgage his properties to pay off, and James had already done it once and he had been terribly upset over just getting half of the money he paid for it.

You sighed, you didn’t want Sirius to lose, but you didn’t want him to be kicked out of the game so suddenly either. “How much do you have?” 

“£100.” 

You nodded and checked your money. You weren’t much better either but you had a bit of a cushion so you pulled the £150 he needed from your bill stack and handed it over. 

James gasped, “That’s so not fair! You made me mortgage White Chapel Rode to pay off my debt!” 

“I want it back with a 20% over the total when you have capital. And I will not be charged if I fall on your properties until you’ve paid up the debt.” 

“Never mind,” James said, swallowing his own words. “Not even because he’s your boyfriend. I mean he would have been better off getting a mortgage.” 

“No,” Remus said, charging the money Sirius owed and placing it on his own stack of bills. He currently had the thickest stack and the most properties. Unless there was a massive turn of events, he would win, and you definitely did not need him keeping Sirius’ properties. “Sirius would have had to mortgage at least four properties to get enough money to pay, that would mean he’d have to sell one of his railroads and therefore he would have lost his set, decreasing the total amount of profit he’d get if one of us fell on it. He would have also had to sell the houses in Islington and sell one of his blue afterwards. And only for half the money he spent on them initially. Besides, even if she won’t get charged, we will, so he has a 2/3 chance of getting the money to pay her back. If any of us fall on Kings Cross –and we’re both close– he’ll have enough to pay Vix back and he wouldn’t have sold off any of his properties. 

“But only to pay back, and then he’ll be broke again.” 

“He’s close to ‘Go’, he’ll capitalise then, and he’ll manage to survive for at least a few more turns. She’s actually saving his ass.” 

“That’s because she’s the best,” Sirius said and placed a kiss on your cheek before handing the dice to Remus and he threw them, falling on Park Lane and finally giving you enough money to continue with the next round without major issues. 

Sirius and James survived for a couple more rounds, but eventually, they both went bankrupt, James couldn’t pay a debt to the bank and he had to give all his properties back, and since you and Remus had enough money, you had to fight it out to get them on an auction. Sirius lost to Remus later, but this time around he didn’t even ask for a waiver. 

“Here, take it all Moony, I cannot fight against your economic skills,” he said dramatically and handed his leftover money and properties to Remus. 

James had pulled a pillow from the bed and was soundly sleeping beside you and Sirius, who had pulled you onto his lap shortly after he lost the game and was paying close attention to everything you did within the game. Then you fell into the dеathtrap that Remus had designed on Fleet Street and Picadilly. Losing most of your money after two rolls of the dice. Luckily he fell on Mayfair and Parklane afterwards and you managed to get back most of what you’d lost. 

A few more rounds went on and Sirius yawned. Pulling you closer to him. “Just give up, neither of you it’s going to win this one. Moony allowed you to pay half the debt last time you fell on Coventry and you let it slip when he fell on Kings Cross because he promised to do your Herbology homework. At this point, you owe more favours to each other than money.”  

“But you can’t give up on this game.” 

“Then be ruthless to each other and have one of the two go bankrupt.” 

You pouted, and James mumbled something in his sleep, “Moony, no. Let me keep my deed card, please…” The three of you laughed and you leaned down to place a deed card on his hand. He was quick to grip it and smiled. 

“How about a truce?” Sirius offered. “I really want to go to bed.” 

“Well then go,” Remus said with a shrug.

“I meant all of us to go to bed,” he said nonchalantly. “We haven’t cuddled in a while.” 

Remus swallowed, so much for space. “You mean– we’re still doing the cuddle thing?” 

“Just in case,” you said, “Moony took Vixen in, but we don’t know if it was just a one-time thing or not.” 

Remus knew. Moony had accepted Vixen already, he wasn’t gonna try and eat or chase her unless it was a game. He could just tell you and be done with it. No more Sirius on top of him in the mornings, no more you laying your head on his shoulder before you turned into Vixen. Just him and his own bed. The idea sounded like a nightmare.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, agreeing. “We shouldn’t let our guard down. Just in case.” 

“So, shake hands, kiss kiss, and you both win,” Sirius said as he placed his hands on your shoulder and shook them a little. 

You laughed and extended your hand for Remus to shake, “Truce?” 

“Truce,” he replied with a nod. 

“Let’s go then,” Sirius said as he patted your leg and pushed you to stand. 

“I’ll go wash my teeth,” you said as you waved at the boys and exited their room. 

“How is she?” Sirius asked the instant he was alone with Moony. Well, technically Prongs was there too but he slept like a log, so he might as well be in Narnia altogether. 

“You’ve seen her.” 

“Yeah, I can tell she’s shaken. Heck, I am shaken and I barely knew the girl. You knew Nina better, didn’t you?” 

“Vixen said she was crushing on me after the first study club, remember?” 

“That was Nina?” Sirius asked, shocked as he took a deep breath. “Anyway, how is she?” 

“Quiet,” Remus admitted. “She prefers avoiding the subject entirely. She only told me what happened the day after it happened and then one time when I found her crying outside, she mentioned how she felt. I think it’s much better not to pressure her to talk about it.” 

 “I assumed as much,” Sirius said with a sigh. “But I’m worried, her smile it… it barely reaches her eyes now.” 

Remus had noticed that too. The façade you had created was not enough to hide how you truly felt from either of the two, “I know.” 

“How can we change that?” 

“We can’t. We can only support her until she feels better.” 

“It’s agonising,” Sirius breathed and hid his face in between his hands. And he hasn’t even seen her cry, Remus thought. “You know the way Nina diеd–” Sirius started and looked up, his eyes were glassy with tears. “Vix was trying so hard to defend her, so hard to escape and then she– it was a split second Moony, barely a minute, she was trying to repair the path to continue and they sent a course her way, Nina stepped in, she took the blow instead because she new Vix was already rather weak…. Nina saved her.” 

“I know,” Remus said. 

“You know what’s the last thing Nina told her?” Remus shook his head. “That she was pleased Vix was the last thing she got to see. She thanked her for saving her, even if she didn’t…” Sirius stopped and wiped his eyes. Witnessing the entire thing in first person had taken a toll on him too, Remus could tell. Sirius wasn’t only suffering for you, but with you as well. He felt tempted to bring Sirius into a hug, even more when he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. 

Sirius didn’t feel worthy of crying, albeit he had done it more than once when he was alone, he thought that he didn’t have the right. It had been your mother and your close friend, he had been merely a spectator. What Sirius didn’t understand was that pain wasn’t something to be measured and weighed, it was not something to compare and pin against each other, you can’t say “I don’t deserve to cry” just because someone else has it a lot worse. Your feelings, no matter where they stem from, are valid since they are true for you. 

“She stayed there, she was crying on top of Nina, that was the last thing I saw. I– I didn’t think she would move.” 

“She wasn’t going to,” Remus said. You had never said that explicitly, but it had been obvious from the way things happened. “She would have kept trying if it hadn’t been for Barty.” 

“Barty, of all people,” Sirius said in disbelief. There was a second of quiet and then Sirius turned to look at Remus. He was as beautiful as he remembered, he hadn’t quite realised how much closer he’d veered to him while they talked but they were now much closer, his knees brushing against each other and he was close enough to get a whiff off Remus’ chocolaty scent, he smelled of you too.

Then the knob twisted and the door opened, Remus pulled back hastily and Sirius turned into Padfoot before you noticed he’d been crying. “Everything all right?” you asked with a frown when you felt the tense atmosphere. 

You looked at Remus but Padfoot was quicker and ran your way, jumping and placing his paws on your shoulders, his size made you stagger back a little and you laughed when he started to lick your face. Remus stared for a second and then flicked his wand so the game would go back to the box and then took it in his hand to place it on the table, avoiding the sight of the two of you almost entirely. 

“I missed you too, big boy,” you said as you brushed your hand over the back of Padfoot’s head, he barked softly in return and then dug his snout into your neck in the same way he did to Remus when you cuddled. You were petting him as Remus finished setting the bed.

The second Remus sat on the bed, Padfoot barked again, softer than he had earlier.

“Go ahead,” you said. “He’s better at petting you than I am anyway.” 

Padfoot gave you another short lick and jumped from you and towards Remus, throwing himself over in the same way he had with you, although Remus hadn’t even staggered. You smiled when you saw them.

Sirius was just happy he could hug Rem more now that he was Padfoot and was bossing him around so he would lay on the bed properly by biting his shirt and trying to pull him back. “Oi, Pads, I’m coming,” he said as he carefully unclasped his watch to set it on the night table. Padfoot barked again to hurry him. 

“You know Rem,” you said with a sneaky little smile. He hummed in return. “I think Sirius missed us more.” Padfoot’s face changed and he turned to you instantly, barking in retort. “I mean he was calling us often, he had me on his lap whenever he could, and I’m sure he would have asked me to play with his hair if it hadn’t been that we were so busy with the prank.” 

Remus smirked. “Oh, he definitely missed you more.” Padfoot now turned his head to him and barked. 

“I suppose I win the bet then,” you said with a smile and Padfoot barked one more time before running your way, but you were quicker and turned into Vixen before he placed his paws on your shoulders, sneaking in between his legs as he fell again, slightly startled. 

You ran under the bed and crossed the entire thing before jumping over and climbing onto Remus’ lap who was still sitting. He laughed as you brushed your head to his stomach and Padfoot barked at you for being so sneaky. You must have been saying something to each other –since you kept barking– but Remus was clueless as to what that might have been, so he just carefully raised you up and accommodated, allowing enough space for Padfoot to climb into and get comfortable himself.

“Didn’t you say you were tired?” he said with eyebrows raised at Padfoot who had now rested his snout on Remus’ shoulder. “Stop arguing with Vixen and sleep then.” Padfoot lifted his head and barked in return. “If not, we might as well finish the game.” 

The dog whined and sank back into Remus’ shoulder. After that, it didn’t take much for Remus soft and purposeful petting, for both you and Pads to fall asleep. Sirius now much calmer, he had both you and Remus around.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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Chapter 4: Bon Appétit

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings, 18+, SMUT A/n: I'm really putting off the inevitable here sksksksk. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3 Btw this is my first time writing explicit smut (unedited)

This is also another late piece to @the-slumberparty Bingo Card event (prompt: proposal) - > Events Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

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When Will comes home that night after promising you he’ll only be gone for a few hours, he’s doing anything in his power not to look you in the eyes. He kept his word, coming back exactly three hours and twenty-six minutes later. You stare at him, intrigued. You don’t understand why he’s acting this way, but your mind screams at you that it can’t be anything good—it’s right, like always.

“I resumed my therapy with Doctor Hannibal Lecter,” he informs you after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. He still doesn’t look at you, as he takes off his jacket and boots.

“You did what?” You blink at him in confusion—utterly dumbfounded. The meaning of his words doesn’t even register in your brain. 

“I’m going to keep on seeing Hannibal,” Will repeats in the same monotonous voice.

It hits you like a train, and your stomach churns at the thought of them sitting across from each other, talking about emotions and Will’s life. Your expression turns to one of disapproval as the man expected.

“After everything he’s done, after everything he put you through, why would you do that?”

Will doesn’t respond right away, and you can tell he’s struggling with his words. “There are things I need to learn about myself,” he says finally. “About what it’s like to be me.”

You stare at him, burning invisible holes in his head, trying to decipher what is truly happening here. The guilt that emanates from his person, the fact that he still can’t meet your gaze—it’s more than suspicious. The realization hits you even harder than the fact he wants to be anywhere near Hannibal Lecter.

“Why are you lying to me?” you ask, voice on the verge of breaking. You hate yourself for ever thinking that he trusts you completely after all those years apart. The tears gathering in your eyes are more angry than sorrowful.

For a moment, Will goes silent. The silence is thick, full of tension as the two of you remain in your positions—you watching him, and him with his back turned to you.

Then, he closes his eyes tightly, as if fighting against a headache. He finally speaks, but only after turning slowly to face you. You immediately notice the pained expression on his face, the guilt that drips from his very skin.

“I have to keep seeing him.”

You go to protest again, but the sound of your voice cracks, and no words emerge. Will doesn’t wish to ever hear this noise from you again. It feels criminal—being the one who caused it. His heart breaks in a way it never did before—it stings like someone delivered it one thousand cuts.

You both remain silent for what feels like an eternity. Will doesn’t look away from you, and your eyes are locked on him, on that misery and pain staring right at you. No one moves, no one blinks, no one probably even breathes. Everything is still, except for your heart which aches even worse than it did before. The silence gets so thick you can almost feel it—touch it. For the life of you, you don’t want to be the one to break it.

You want to speak, beg, convince him to stop these mind games, to give you an explanation you could understand. But you choose to keep your mouth shut, slumping further into the cushions of the armchair. 

Will’s eyes don’t leave you. They remain fixed on you as if willing you to speak, to tell him something that would make all of this suddenly go away. Anything.

He wants you to read his mind, and understand his pleas, but you can’t— and even if you could, you wouldn’t. You don’t do anything, don’t even move a muscle and after a few moments of waiting, Will finally breaks the silence.

“I don’t want him to do this to anyone else,” he says. His words are soft and quiet, but they carry a weight that you feel in your chest.

“Yet you didn’t start with that. You chose to lie.” 

Will sighs. He looks exhausted as if you’ve been here asking him questions for hours, even though it’s been twenty minutes at most.

“I didn’t want you to stop me. There, I said it,” he says. “It was hard. Harder than anything I’ve ever done. Can you just cut me some slack over here?”

You don’t answer right away. You don’t know what to think or what to say about this whole situation. It seems absurd, and you have to remind yourself that you might’ve paused your story with Will Graham, but for him time has passed, things have changed.

You’re not proud of the words that leave you next. God, you wish you could just catch them in the air before they have a chance to reach his ears and put them back in your mouth.

“Change your fucking tone, Will.”

You’re shocked with your own words, but Will doesn’t seem annoyed or offended, not like most people would. He’s still staring at you, but you notice the slightest hint of amusement in his expression as if this new side of you intrigued him rather than annoyed him.

“You don’t like me speaking to you like that, my dear?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He makes no attempts to sound serious—just enough to make you laugh, but his words carry weight. He’s genuinely curious.

Will Graham just called you “my dear” and your whole face warms up at this term of endearment as you observe him fall to one knee in front of your person.

“What are you doing?” you choke out, confused, butterflies fluttering wildly in your chest.

Will takes his time to reply, his eyes scanning you and your reactions. He seems to enjoy the sight of you flustered, barely keeping up with what’s happening right in front of your face. His heart skips a beat more than twice in the span of a few seconds.

“I’m proposing.”

The words seem so absurd that you half expect him to break the tension with a quick joke, but he doesn’t. His gaze is glued to you, his words as serious as they can be. You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to react. Your mind is frozen.

“What the fuck, Will?”

Will grins at that and shakes his head as if he’d expected your reaction to be no different. He keeps his stance, one knee on the floor, as he stares at you affectionately—with so much love you’re surprised he doesn’t explode from it. The man is enjoying your confusion and the fact that he managed to pull it out of you. He’s not ashamed to admit it, either.

“That’s the kind of reaction I was hoping for,” he says quietly and in a matter of time, his hand is on your thigh, tracing invisible circles on the soft fabric of your pajama pants. “You were always going to say no for the first time.”

You blink at him, trying to coax out words from within you, but you don’t find any. That only makes you even more confused, and your expression turns to a frown. Is he really… asking you to marry him?

“I know, I’m quite the romantic.” He pauses, trying to stifle his chuckle. “Do you want me to ask you the usual way?”

“Will, are you serious?” you ask, your voice so gentle the words barely sound like they’re yours. Will only nods his head. “I don’t want you to ask at all. I want us to get married as soon as possible.”

He reaches down to grab your hands in his. “I never believed in marriage. I’m not sure if I do now either,” he admits awkwardly, playing with your fingers. “But I really want to hear people call you Mrs. Graham.”

Your heart jumps as he speaks as if you’d been waiting for him to admit those words for years. The words sink in slowly and your eyes become distant, as if you’d been taken back in time. A warm feeling spreads across your chest like you just swallowed a whole bottle of wine in one ginormous gulp.

“You know I can’t say no.” Your words are quiet and soft. He pulls you down onto his lap, his hands still around your fingers as he brings them to his chest. “Can I call you mine too?” 

“Always,” Will replies, his voice low and quiet, but full of love and emotion. “It’s been you all along.”

A soft smile rests on your face as you look down at him. Your head is right above his, but you decide to close the tiny distance between you by leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. You feel your heart race as you do so.

“Did you come up with this to distract me?” Your voice is playful, but the air around you is thick and humid. 

Will leans forward and wraps his arms snugly around your waist, hugging you tight. Your fingers play with his curls, his head back on your chest. The whole weight of him hangs onto you like all the sins in the world, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Maybe,” he replies, a smile tugging at his lips, even though he seems serious.

You can feel his body shift, and suddenly Will presses you firmly against the growing hardness inside his jeans. The whimper that pushes past your lips as you feel it through the thin layer of your pajama pants is downright desperate. You both can’t hide the fact that your breaths are becoming more irregular, muscles tensing under each other’s hands.

“I like being distracted like this,” you whisper, your nose nuzzling against his temple. 

A low growl comes from the man’s chest. You’re close enough to the source of the sound to feel the vibration against your body. He presses his face to your neck, taking in the scent of your skin like he’s oxygen-deprived.

“Should I distract you too, Will?” you ask him quietly, tugging at his tousled hair.

“You’ve done enough, dear. I’m already distracted.” His voice is soft, and his words catch in his throat. Will doesn’t seem to have a single rational thought going through his head. It’s like all he can process is his need for you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say this was a spell cast on him. “I want you.” His hand moves to your hip, and he presses into you harder, your breath catching in your throat. “Please.”

And who are you to deny him of anything his soul could ever want or need? You don’t wait for more encouragement as your fingers start working on hastily unbuttoning his shirt. They trace the smooth lines of his chest, the scars that mark his skin, and every little detail of him—every part of his history that he once saw as a defect. It’s not. It’s who he is, who he’s always been—his past is a part of what made him the Will you know and love. 

Your fingers slowly make their way down to his belt and unclasp it too in one go. You graze over his hardness on accident, already feeling its heat through the thin layer. You let out a whimper and your whole brain starts to short-circuit. 

“Slowly.” Will’s voice is hoarse and raw, his fingers digging deeply into the skin of your hip. “I want to see you.”

The man doesn’t waste any time in waiting for your reaction as his hand moves up to your face. His touch is gentle as it pushes back your hair, his fingertips rubbing against the skin behind your ear before they start pursuing the shape of your neck—every muscle and tendon.

“Slowly,” he repeats, and you can’t help but groan.

Nevertheless, you obey, letting your hands explore every surface of his flesh again like he’s the perfect puzzle that you need to solve. His own mirror yours, sliding below the thin layer of your t-shirt, grazing over your navel, and pushing upwards.

Every move you make leaves its mark, causing his body to tremble even more. His breath becomes so uneven, you think he might fall apart at any moment. The mere sound sends shivers down your spine.

“Yes, like that,” he mumbles, and his lips are right next to your ear as he whispers these words. His hand moves again and starts to tug at your shirt.

You help him remove it in one go, left in only your plaid pajama bottoms. Will’s touch is familiar, one you could never forget—not like the dozen strangers through the past few years, you never even remembered their faces come tomorrow morning. But his touch sets you ablaze—burns and soothes at the same time, it’s unforgettable.

Will reaches up to pull your head against his so that you’re staring straight at one another. His touch is gentle, but there’s an intensity to it that you can’t mistake. His lips slowly approach yours with such an intense need that you can read it in his gaze. Even though he doesn’t say it, you feel that this kiss is more than just desire—it’s a need to be as close to you as possible, to never let you go again. His tongue delves inside your mouth, and you sigh into it.

The feeling of your skin pressed against his leaves Will desperate, his mind so overwhelmed and in a haze, he can’t even form the words to describe the sensation. His hand keeps moving as if your flesh were an addiction. The sound that leaves from his throat is something so close to a purr—he’s almost embarrassed. 

You feel his body tensing, his muscles flexing against yours, and your skin feels hot and all too sensitive. He’s taking advantage of this moment to touch you anywhere he can reach. His fingers leave no inch of your skin unexplored as he slowly begins to lower your pajama bottoms.

“God, you’re beautiful.” The sound of your voice draws Will’s eyes closed as he inhales deeply.

Will’s fingers glide down toward your legs, and he looks as if all his dreams are coming true at once. You see his eyes flicker open, and he looks at you with such intensity, such concentration, that it’s hard to breathe as you’re pulled along by an invisible force. He finally lets go of your chin so that he can drag your pajamas down further until they’re thrown across the room. 

You take his hands in yours, placing them over your breasts. And it’s only when his teeth drag across your neck, from just above your collarbone down to the crook of your shoulder, that he loses it completely. 

There’s no being slow or gentle when he pushes you away, standing up and pulling you to your feet. You take hurried steps back as he nudges you toward the bed. Soon enough, your calves hit the mattress and you fall back onto the blue duvet. You don’t even have a chance to take a breath, Will is hovering over you, elbows on each side of your head. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he mumbles, looking deep into your eyes—so deep you’re afraid he can see the broken soul behind them. 

You help him push his jeans and boxers down the length of his legs. The second they’re no longer an obstacle, Will’s fingers delve between your thighs, circling your clit teasingly with the gentlest of touches. Your lips part in a gasp, hands falling onto the covers to clench them in your fists.

“Will, please,” you plead between whimpers. He was the only one who could ever bring you to the point of begging, and you hope he knows it somewhere deep within. 

The man faces you with glassy eyes, swiping the tip of his tongue over his bottom lips. He doesn’t need you to say anything more, he just nods feverishly and lets your fingers guide him inside. The sensation of your heat gripping him tightly makes him groan, lips falling agape. You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing them behind his back, and pull him even closer. 

“Will,” you moan his name against his lips.

It spurs him on, makes him even more eager to please you. He draws back almost completely, then buries himself inside you again in one smooth motion. Your thighs tremble visibly, and it almost makes him smile. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, fingers tugging on his curls. 

Will rocks into you deep and steady, one of his hands digging into the meat of your thigh with so much force it hurts—but goddamn, you love this kind of pain. And he makes it feel even more heavenly when his thumb begins to trace circles over your clit.

It doesn’t take him long to take you over the edge—hard and fast—turning you into a mindless, hot, whimpering mess. You mumble his name over and over again as your heat pulses around his length, making him come just a few moments after you. He claims your mouth with his, making you taste your name on his lips. God, does it taste heavenly.

Night came quicker than you realized, covering the sky with bright stars and a full moon. Despite it, it’s not pitch black outside. The shimmering snow reflects the shining lights, fighting off the darkness well enough. It doesn’t make you feel any less threatened, even though it should.

You’re wrapped only in the blue duvet that covered the bed, as you lie on your side, facing Will, who’s already asleep. His bare thigh is right against yours, and the heat of his skin is almost impossible to resist. You let your eyes wander across his body, his physique—he looks like a sculpture, a masterpiece of flesh and bone.

Your body still aches from his touch, and you feel like you’re a puddle of emotions with the sole mission of holding love, affection, and desire for him. You’re about as far away from being “fine” as possible. You didn’t even get a chance to tell him you’ll be working together from now on. He doesn’t know he’s allowed back in BAU, and you wonder if you should leave him unknowing for as long as possible. It’s not your greatest idea, but the idea of him breaking beyond repair terrifies you.

You try to calm your heart as it races and skips a beat every time his body shifts—the smallest movement seems like it could wake him up. But as you lie there in the darkness, his hand reaches out and finds its rightful place on your thigh again, his fingers barely grazing your skin. The sensation makes you almost jump out of your skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Why are you awake?” he asks with half-closed eyes.

“Can’t sleep,” you reply softly, wanting to touch him back, but not sure if you should.

“I figured,” he murmurs. “You didn’t sleep much yesterday either.”

You sigh sadly, you didn’t think he’d noticed. His hand moves up your thigh, almost instinctively, until it touches you just below your hip. It stops there, and your eyelashes flutter at its warmth against your skin.

“You can touch me.” Will’s voice is so quiet it’s almost inaudible, and you don’t have to be told twice.

Your fingers slip under the duvet, so the fabric doesn’t block your touch, and you begin to trace the outline of his leg with the tips of your fingers. Will’s eyes finally open, and he looks almost nervous at the intimate touch—until you find the spot where he’s ticklish. He lets out an adorable whimper, so naturally, you laugh and keep going.

“No, no, please stop,” Will moans, trying to fight back his chuckles, squirming as he tries to get away from your touch. The whole time he’s half-smiling, his fingers digging into the duvet for stability. He tries to grab your hands, but it only makes you laugh harder. 

You find another ticklish spot on the side of his torso and continue to tease him. Eventually, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you watch Will scoot back, out of your reach. Your sour mood from before is gone in an instant.

Will moves up so that he’s sitting up against the wall, practically on the edge of the bed, and he looks almost offended by your reaction. Your gaze shifts, so you can get a fuller view of him.

“I’m not as ticklish as you think,” he says, his tone serious, though you can still hear a tremble in his voice. “If you wanted to see me squirm,” he adds, “you could’ve found a different method.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, and you immediately pull the sheets up to cover the bottom part of your face, trying to hide your flustered reaction from his eyes. 

“You’re so cute,” he says, his voice just a whisper, almost as if he was afraid that anything above a murmur could wake the dogs sleeping by the fireplace. “So adorable.”

Will’s hand rests on your head, his fingers playing with the strands of hair that cover your ears. You can feel him studying you—how your nose twitches and your eyes almost close as you wait for his next words. Something about it feels intimate as if he’s taking in every detail of your expression one by one. It’s been a while since he’s done that, you didn’t even realize how much you missed it.

“You can pull it down, you know,” he says playfully, his hand still in your hair. “This must be suffocating.”

“I know,” you say quietly, as you pull the sheets down from your face.

Will’s fingers interlace with yours, and you can feel his thumb circling your wrist. 

“And yes, it is a bit suffocating.” You pull the sheets down to your collarbones, and a chill runs through your body as the cold air touches your arms. “Maybe you can warm me up.” 

Will smiles—a small, sweet smile, with a bit of mischief thrown in.  “Maybe I can,” his tone is playful as he pulls you close, your cheek finding a home on his chest, right above his heart.

After a few long minutes of silence and listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat, you turn to face him, resting your chin above his pec.

“We’re back on the team, you know?” you mumble almost mindlessly.

Will looks down at you, his expression gentle as he caresses your hair. 

“I know.”

His gaze trails down your face and lingers on your lips for a brief moment before it shifts again. There are so many things Will wants to say, but he can’t bring himself to do it—he fears it would ruin these quiet, peaceful moments between you two.

You don’t question how he already knows that, choosing instead to voice your other thoughts—ones that’ve been on your mind almost the whole day. “What did Alana want from you?”

Will’s hand pauses against your face when you bring up her name, and for a moment he seems speechless, which is rare a thing for him.

“I…” He trails off but then speaks again as if he’s found the courage to say the words. “Alana wants me to stay away from Hannibal,” he says quietly, his fingers moving on your cheeks, your brows, your chin, as if his hand isn’t allowed to stay still for a second without touching the flesh it can. “She’s sleeping with him.”

“Why does she want you to stay away?”

“Because I tried to kill him.”

You don’t even blink at his confession, there’s no fear in your gaze—no ounce of surprise. There was a time in your life when this revelation would’ve shocked you, broken you in half, but after your father’s death, when you’re faced with it, it’s… easy to handle. Will expected this kind of indifference, he knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t judge nor be afraid.

“How?”

Will lets your question hang in the air for a long minute before he speaks. He takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Not by my hand—not like that,” he starts. “Hannibal has a lot of… a lot of hold over me,” he pauses again, “he made me want to do it.” It’s probably the most vulnerable, the most genuine explanation Will has given anyone. He’s speaking to you from the heart and in pure honesty. “An opportunity fell on my lap to send someone after him, so I took it.”

You nod your head in acknowledgment—it makes sense to you. “It’s a shame it didn’t work out.”

A hint of a smile appears on Will’s face. He moves his fingers to the nape of your neck and to caress the lines of your ear—it’s something he always used to do when he was thinking and you were nearby. “Alana’s very upset with me.”

Will’s other hand slides over your thigh, his fingers teasing the skin, almost as if he was trying to test it, like a cat with a piece of string. He’s still thinking when his hand starts to move upwards, closer to your hip.

“Don’t take it to heart,” you advise him, leaving a soothing peck on his jaw. It was the best you could do.

“I’m trying.” He laughs in a low rumble, his hand moving between your legs and your whole body tenses. “I’m trying,” he says again.

The touch is so soft and gentle—almost teasing, yet your body seems to be craving it. It makes him nervous, but also excited, and when he closes his eyes his head just falls back to rest against the wall, his teeth showing as he breathes in deeply.

“Would you have done this if I…” his words trail off into silence as the man doesn’t seem certain about how to finish his sentence. He looks at you, his face revealing all the questions that he doesn’t dare to ask.

You grasp his jaw between your hands, encouraging him to speak his mind, but being unconditionally patient at the same time. He tries to say something again, then changes his mind. It’s as if he’s playing a constant game with you, trying to reach into your mind without opening his mouth like most people do.

“If you…”

“If I was still the same,” he mumbles out finally.

“Will, you are still the same person. Perhaps a little more broken than before, but it’s still you.”

Will stays silent and still for a minute with his eyes closed, his hand still between your legs. The tips of his fingers keep barely touching you, almost a caress, although a bit harsher than before.  His lids flutter open, so you can see his face as it’s lit by the moonlight.

“There’s something I’d like you to promise,” he says cautiously as if every word is carefully thought out before he speaks it aloud. “Promise me that you’ll keep trusting in me... even if you don’t understand.” 

Will’s hand moves up from between your legs so that he can touch your waist and hold you in place. The fingers of his other hand stroke your face down to the side of your neck, and you can feel how your heart starts to beat faster and faster with each touch.

“I will always trust you, Will. Just never lie to me again, have a little faith in me too.”

Will lets his eyes fall down to your lips again, and he can’t help but bite his own in response. As if he was trying to hold himself together but the urge to kiss you was almost too strong, the way his gaze kept shifting. 

When his lips touch yours—it’s a long, slow kiss, deep and gentle at the same time. He holds you in place, your hips pressed against his as if he doesn’t want you to move, even a centimeter. And you don’t dream of being anywhere else but here—by his side.

“I love you, Will.”

[anli-rambles]

No bc the 18th century assassins were actual shit and I'm not just talking about the Colonial branch, like-

The British brotherhood let a Templar GRANDMASTER run off with the son of one of their master assassins after his death and never did anything to save him. Years later that boy grows up to be a Templar, climbs up the ranks of the Order at lightning speed, and kills one of their assassin masters after stealing his hidden blade. And how do they respond to that ? They send one of their novices after him on a ship to Boston to kill him. Alone. And that novice, instead of going the assassin way and stab Haytham in the back or something, tries to defend him from getting killed by some other guys on deck before engaging him in a fucking sword fight during which he gives Haytham, A MASTER SWORDSMAN, HIS OWN GODDAMN SWORD, LIKE WHAT IN THE-

Then you have the disaster that was the Colonial Brotherhood. Achilles, the last student of Ah Tabai, goes on to do the one thing Ah Tabai spent the entirety of Black Flag warning Edward against (tampering with Isu sites) and becomes mentor to absolute psychopaths. They were working with gangs who were harassing civilians for protection money and developing chemical weapons that they planned on unleashing on entire cities, not to mention that they caused two earthquakes that killed hundreds of thousands and were going to do it a third time (and probably would never have stopped) had Shay and Haytham not intervened. Also, instead of talking shit out with an obviously traumatised Shay, they demonised him, shot him off a cliff, and left him for dead without even checking if he'd died or not - they were so bad that they made Shay, the most un-Templaresque person ever, defect to the Templars, which inevitably led to their downfall and you can't even blame the Templars for massacring all of them bc they were an absolute menace to society. Plus they were allied with the Fr*nch and it should be common knowledge that this is the worst crime one could ever commit

AND SPEAKING OF THE FRENCH ! Those bitches were also completely brain dead !! Like, they knew what happened to Haytham and how the man turned out, but they still let the Templar Grandmaster adopt Arno, the son of one of their master assassins, just like the British had done with Edward. Like, they should have known it could end in an absolute disaster. And they banished Arno, probably their most promising recruit since Charles Dorian's death, for doing his fucking job as an assassin just because he broke some rules, which is so dumb coming from people whose motto contains the lines "everything is permitted", I just- ☠️

Ratohnhaké:ton was legit the only 18th century assassin with a functioning brain cell istg

[mammomlette]

OBEY ME YOUNGER BROTHERS AS SOULMATE TROPES!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3(WIP rn)]

Includes: Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, GN!Reader/MC

Warnings: Spoilers for lesson 16 in Belphies (not explicitly said but obvious foreshadowing for a twist), implied manipulation (Belphies) (not sure if that needs a warning but better safe than sorry)

Notes: I’m still quite new to fanfics and Tumblr, and honestly just writing in my free time in general so constructive criticism is defo encouraged!! Also I won’t lie to you, Satan did seem a tad ooc erm…

SATAN: writing/drawings on hands appear on eachother

* As soon as you turned 18, you noticed small phrases and notes appearing on your right hand

* It started off with small things like “page 562” or “British shorthair.” Just things to keep as a reminder or to be able to search it up later

* However, as time went by, the notes became a bit more… concerning

* Concerning book quotes from old literature, sometimes in other languages, and nefarious plans to prank someone called ‘Lucifer’

* Your soulmate plans to prank the devil himself. Haha. What a great idea.

* You brushed it off for a while, appreciating the occasional cat fact or chapter reminder and just ignoring the angry words about Lucifer.

* Eventually, you began to build up the courage to respond. Small things relating to things your soulmate wrote, like cat doodles (good or bad as your art skill may be) or going over the writing of the reminder when you notice it started to fade

* Not knowing if it was your place to write down your own notes or just not quite having that amount of bravery, you still did those little things to let your soulmate know that hey, you’re there and you’re always reading what they have to say.

* Satan thought he was hallucinating.

* Thousands of years spent just jotting things down to remind himself of things at a later date, frequently on his hand, and suddenly things started to change?

* He had wrote “British shorthair” on his palm in hopes of being able to look it up later, and a few minutes later he looks down to his palm to search it up and sees a… cat?? It’s really not clear. It’s round, with two points on the top of its head… yeah thats a cat.

* He’s become so obsessed he’s hallucinating badly drawn cats, which is probably a cause for concern, so naturally he confides in his brothers about this and is comforted that no he’s not hallucinating, however cats are just randomly appearing on his hand.

* They continue to appear, circles with two triangles, some looking better than others and some with more odd features likes birthday hats or weird outfits

* He finally decided to read up on what could be happening and was quickly met with the term ‘soulmates’

* He had heard of this a long time ago from one of his brothers while he was still young (for a demon) and brushed it off as a fairy tale. Why had his soulmate only started communicating with his just now?

* He moved on eventually and time passed, a new human being introduced to his home and his family.

* It took an embarrassingly long time to realise that his human was also his soulmate, it wasn’t until you were both just chilling in his room and you were doodling something next to some words on your arm that he noticed a cat appearing on his own arm.

* “Look! The cat thing is happening!” He shouted, a lot more emotion out into it that he would’ve liked due to the sheer shock

* You stopped what you were doing and look at his arm, the cat drawing having ceased its being drawn while you stared at the cat, face turning into shock and then seriousness. Because that is the cat that you just drew.

* “Satan.” You said, just staring into his eyes without any expression

* “Yes, MC?” He responded, worried at your monotony. His mouth then gaped open and you showed him your arm, cat half doodled next to the words “page 236, sticky notes needed”

* You both just made dead eye contact for a second before your eyes both began to flick back and forth and your lips slowly started to quiver

* Both of your sweet laughters filled the room, how ironic that such a common book trope would be what flew under Satan’s nose for so long.

ASMODEUS: soulmate telepathy

* Ever since you turned 18, you had been hearing a voice in your head.

* Not necessarily in a concerning way! In the way it happens when you and your soulmate have both turned 18 and can finally communicate.

* At first, you thought that you were hearing things. Things like “Ooo, this would be a great touch to my outfit! ♡” and “Can’t believe my bath wasn’t 3 hours long today…” flooding your mind. Since when were you SO picky about your clothes and hygiene, even when not in the process of dressing or washing? And since when were your baths 3 hours?

* Quickly though, you realised that this voice wasn’t your own. It was a melodic sounding voice that felt like honey and most definitely did not belong to you.

* You had heard from your family growing up and your friends recently that once you had become an adult you would be able to communicate with your soulmate through your thoughts, proof of the bond your souls shared, thoughts intertwining together.

* You found that whenever you were deep in thought and rambling to yourself you’d be met with a “hon, slow down” in your mind or that whenever you were trying to figure out an outfit your soulmate would chime in to offer their expert advice without hesitation

* No hesitation at all, because Asmo had waited his entire life for this.

* Thousands of years of life believing that he had no soulmate, destined to forever be a player

* So long spent reading and gushing over cute romance stories where soulmate meet and finding comfort in romcoms about that very topic, and here he was finally with his own soulmate in his mind

* The way you would thank him for his advice before his mind went quiet from your thoughts again until you later told him how well everything went and the way you would ramble internally to him without even realising you were connected to his mind made his heart flutter, even without your face your voice and soul were beautiful

* One day he had been summoned alongside his brothers to the student council room to welcome the new human exchange student. It was a hassle that could be spent doing something more productive like his skincare or extra time in the bath, but he was still just so excited he had to tell you how excited he was to meet the new human!

* “New human?” You thought, but had no response from your soulmate before you appeared inside of a council room in front of 5 attractive strange men.

* You panicked and were kind of in autopilot mode as a tall man in all red introduced you to your situation and a slightly-less-tall man in black started to introduce you to his brothers

* You still had small responses in your shock, and a certain demon recognised your voice.

* You were immediately snapped out of autopilot when you heard the voice of the second brother you were introduced to, an admitted handsome man with slightly-pink-tinted light brown hair and stunning orangeish eyes said “Oh come now. Really? You should be that you get to introduce such a sweet and charming little brother like me!” And you froze.

* You looked like a deer in headlights to lucifer who was trying to introduce you to a blonde demon, but to Asmo, you looked like the most beautiful creature to ever walk the three realms (asides from himself, naturally) and the only person worthy of him.

* Asmo saw beauty in everyone, but everyone else paled in comparison to your face in this moment and your voice every other previous time he had heard it.

* He looked at you with knowing eyes and your eyes finally softened from your shocked face, finally understanding what he meant earlier by “new human”

* It would take time for you to get used to being in a new world with a demon as your soulmate, it would take time for him to get used to loving someone more intimately than as lust, but you both had eachother and the bond that ties your minds together and that’s all you needed.

BEELZEBUB: you share (some of) your soulmate’s pain

* It was growing unbearable.

* The slight yet constant ache in your stomach, a pit that was never quite full.

* For years you mistook it for your own hunger, not sure if you should be eating more or not

* It was always there, always something that disctracted you whenever you were left alone in silence or trying to sleep at night, always waiting for you to finish a meal just to make you feel that familiar ache again.

* It was just insufferable.

* It wasn’t just the hunger, though. There would be times where your muscles would ache like you had been working out without a proper cool down or your arms felt like they had bruised from defending or blocking against something

* You inquired with your friends about this and were just told that it would be your soulmate. You shared pain with your soulmate, and your soulmate always seemed in pain

* It wasn’t a pain that came from attacks or falling, just a pit that always felt so empty it hurt but could never be filled.

* Was your soulmate starving to death? You wished there was a way to help them, to soothe the pain, but without knowing who they are there was no way to fix it.

* As of present, you had been sent into the devildom a few weeks ago and had began to slowly feel adjusted to the devildom and your roommates and you had grown fond of one in particular: Beelzebub, the avatar of gluttony.

* You sympathised with him and his constant hunger since you yourself always felt a small bit of this hunger, even if you’d learnt by now that it wasn’t yours to fix

* So naturally, you hung a round him more

* You spent time with him whenever you could just because you wanted to, accompanying him to the gym or treating him to Hell’s Kitchen or even just sitting with him when he was lonely and missing his brother who had gone to the human world

* And it felt like every time you gave him the food you were craving so much, that pit in your stomach was filled just a bit

* Always there, never going away, but it felt just that bit more bearable and ignorable for a short while

* Who knew you were such an empath?

* Of course it crossed your mind of that Beel could be your soulmate, but what are the chances? You dismissed the thought whenever it appeared, not wanting to get your hopes up

* However, your hopes were validated one night in the kitchen with Beel.

* You were preparing him a small snack, just cutting up some devildom-style bread for him when you accidentally put your finger down at the wrong time in the wrong place and cut it

* You hissed at the pain, putting down the knife to look at your finger and you thought you heard Beel grunt.

* “MC, are you okay?” He inquired, approaching you to look at your finger while slightly cradling his own for some reason

* “Uh, yeah, I just need a plaster or something, would you mind..?” “Yeah, of course.” He continued to clutch his finger while reaching for the cabinet, letting go for a second to open it and grab you a plaster

* “Are you okay? You’re holding your finger too.” You were slightly worried by his mannerisms even though you didn’t see a cut on his fingers.

* “Yeah, my finger just hurt all of a sudden. It’s fine though. Here, I’ll put the plaster on for you.”

* You fell into comfortable silence as he opened the plaster and began pressing in down, but he pressed down a bit too hard which hurt you, causing both of you to hiss.

* “Seriously Beel, are you okay?” He nodded. “Yeah, it’s just like whenever you get hurt my finger hurts too.”

* Lightbulb. You realised finally that those slight considerations were valid and the connection you felt with Beel was real. The hunger you felt wasn’t yours and the reason it was numbed when you gave him food is because it was his.

* He seemed to have realised this too, because he paused and looked at you, slowly smiling.

* “MC, I just realised something. I think that-“ you cut him off with a kiss, smiling now too.

BELPHEGOR: you have a countdown until your soulmate’s death

* Surely there was an error in the system.

* Call you crazy but you didn’t quite think that 378,691,205,018 seconds is applicable to the human life span.

* You had come to the conclusion that your soulmate was either non-existent and the universe was fucking with you or they were some kind of non human entity and obviously both of these answers were stupid but at least the former was possible.

* You’d grown accepting overtime that you didn’t have a soulmate unlike how most of your friends did and that you’d never have that sort of unconditional love

* Not having a soulmate wasn’t unheard of, just uncommon.

* And you got the short end of the stick. That’s all there was to it.

* UNTIL you got randomly abducted one day into literal hell where pretty much all beings there loved for thousands of years.

* ‘Maybe I have a chance now?’ You crossed the thought out from your mind. First of all, these were demons and most of them had made attempts on your life at some point or another, and secondly almost all of them either a) didn’t have a timer, which meant no soulmate, b) had an insanely high timer that you’d never be able to reach or c) had already found their soulmate

* You sighed to yourself and began to lose hope again, walking up the stairs to the attic

* A short while ago, you had found a human locked in the attic, who had asked you to help him. You clicked, something in that moment just felt like it had been put in place like the final puzzle piece so you trusted him without really knowing why

* But you had even more recently found out from his brother that he was bulshitting you and that he was probably the demon Belphegor, so now you just wanted to figure out what was going on

* You continued to march up the stairs and finally arrived at the attic to confront him or at least question him

* “Are you Belphegor?” You cut to the chase not wanting to bother with any more of his lies.

* He was silent for a second before grinning, devilish look that you’d expect from the decent ruler or the underworld gleaming in his eyes as he said “Aww, so you’ve already figured me out, have you? Well, you’re no fun at all.”

* You glared, and tried to decide whether declaring he was a liar or asking why he was a liar would be a better idea

* But he spoke up again before you could decide.

* “That timer on your neck, what does it say?”

* You paused, not knowing the exact number. “Um, like, there’s hundred billion seconds-ish? Why?”

* “Because I’m a demon. I’m going to live long enough to fulfil that. Look at my timer, here. It has 13,140,014 seconds. No demon would live that short.”

* “And is thirteen million a lot of time?”

* “About a human lifespan, bit under.”

* You hummed. It made sense to you looking at it at the moment, though you could’ve sworn it was a little bit under your guess, you trusted him.

* Why? He lied to you about being a human, so why do you trust him?

* Because he’s your soulmate. There’s no doubt in your mind. The click, the need to trust him, even seeing him in your dreams. It was right.

* So you believed him, and didn’t give the thirteen million seconds much question. You were going to save him, save your soulmate.

* Because thirteen million seems like a long time, and I guess it was long enough for you to save him. Just not enough to do much more.

[thisissirius]

my dear siri, I would love a fic based on “I’m worried about you” please and thank you

your wish is my command. for you to improve the mood :)

man this should be fifty thousand words longer but have some mack and robert emotions :D

Mack is pretty sure this is gonna bite him in the ass.  “Hasn’t changed much.” “Not sure it ever does,” Mack agrees.  Tommy Merrick looks over the houses, the pub, with a passive expression. He has a casual demeanour, but Mack’s known him long enough to detect the thrum of nervousness underneath. It’s a sight to see on someone pushing fifty. Haven’t you seen everything by then? “I was four the last time I was here.” Mack whistles. “Yeah, things have definitely changed, mate.” There’s a slam of a door and then Robert storms out of Vic’s house, face of thunder. Mack doesn’t know what his problem is–it’s not like he hasn’t left Mack in the middle of nowhere before. “Oi!” Mack winces. “Hi, Robert.” “Don’t ‘Hi Robert’ me, asshole. You left me by the side of the road and–Tommy?” Robert’s anger deflates as he sees the figure standing to Mack’s right. He looks confused and, Mack thinks, a little off-kilter.  “Hi Rob,” Tommy says, lips quirking into a smile. “Been a long time.” Robert just stares.  “Oi,” Mack says, nudging him. “Say something yeah?” That seems to propel Robert into movement, and he grabs Mack’s sleeve, hauls him away from Tommy far enough they can talk without being overheard.  “Where did you find him?” “I know him. He called me when he found out I was in Emmerdale–asked if I knew you.” Robert mutters something under his breath, peering over Mack’s shoulder at Tommy.  “Rob,” Mack says slowly, “He isn’t here to cause trouble.” “You do enough of that for me,” Robert says, half under his breath. He narrows his eyes. “Why is he here then?” Mack scratches at his neck. “Well I might have said something about John.”

Robert rubs at his face. “Why?”

“I’m worried about you,” Mack admits. “Since the roofie thing, the way you and he interact–I don’t like him either, but the way he looks at you, well, he’s bad news. We both know it. Figured you could use every person in your corner I can find.”

The expression on Robert’s face is one of shock, confusion. Mack wants to punch everyone who’s put it there, though that might also mean punching Aaron, which would be a shit show all around. “He doesn’t know me.”

“You spent four years living in his house,” Mack points out.

“Then stole half his money and ran off,” Rob admits, self-deprecating smile in place. 

Tommy snorts from where he’s sidled closer. “I don’t care about the money, Rob. Just that you’re doing well.”

“You’re about ten years too late,” Robert says. “Could have done with those well wishes in prison.”

Mack sighs. “Rob.”

“What? Just figured we should all be on the same page about the kind of person I am,” Robert says, and it doesn’t carry the anger Mack’s been told to get used to–just bitterness. 

“Murder, assault, almost going on the run,” Tommy lists off. At Robert’s expression, he sighs. “I’m sure there’s a ton of other things I’m forgetting, but I’m still not leaving.”

Robert opens his mouth to respond when he sees a couple of other people on the street, and even Vic’s poked her head out of the house. “Come on. I’ll take you back to the Mill. I’d rather catch up,” his expression twists, “without anyone else overhearing.”

Tommy seems only too willing, though he adds, “Ashamed of me?”

“Don’t be daft,” Robert says, too quickly to be a lie. “I don’t really have a lot of fans right now and I’d rather avoid you being told to leave me alone, or take me with you when you leave.”

A dark expression crosses Tommy’s face when he looks at Mack, who shrugs. “I told you.”

“Told him what?”

“I’ll tell you about it in the–Mill?”

Rob nods, though he looks between Mack and Tommy. Finally, he relents, narrowing his eyes at Mack. “We’re talking about this later,” he warns.

Mack shrugs. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

Rob mutters under his breath, probably cursing Mack’s father, which is fine. It’s not like Mack hasn’t done the same. 

“Who’s that, then?” 

Aaron’s drifted out of the pub, hands in his pockets, and nods at Tommy. 

“Rob’s brother.” At Aaron’s expression, Mack grins. “Yeah, another one. Thankfully, not a drop of Jack Sugden’s blood in him.”

Aaron doesn’t seem to know what to say. 

Mack leaves him to it. He pulls out his phone, bringing up Sandy’s number. Might as well see how she’s doing while he’s at it. 

<3<3

[peachhcs]

omg I want already want more of Mack and Blaire!!

this is an old ask i dug around my inbox for (im so sorry) but here's a small fic about mack and blaire celebrating his 19th bday a few weeks ago! (and canonically blaire's bday is in 2 days june 23rd!)

au masterlist

mack never cared much for his birthday until this year. blaire was sticking around san jose for the summer which meant the two got to see each other quite frequently and blaire loved birthdays. plus, the rookie had an entire hockey team he created a family within to celebrate with, so yeah, he was definitely looking forward to his birthday a lot more than any previous years.

he woke up to a thousand messages from blaire wishing him happy birthday which made him beam. her obsessive use of emojis never failed to make him smile and think of her. he quickly texted her back, noting how quick she read it and started responding already.

he wondered how long she'd been awake for considering it was only 9:30 still.

blaire

get ready!! big day planned!

macklin wondered what exactly the day entailed, but the excitement coursed through him as he pushed himself out of bed to take a quick shower. his birthday had never felt quite like this before, but it was a good feeling that he hoped stayed.

it was a bit sad will wasn't in town, but the brunette understood he was spending the weekend with his dad for father's day. will promised they'd do something soon when he was back in town.

all of the fuss and attention just always seemed like too much to the boy. he was a year older, but he never understood why the big celebrations for it. he was a simple guy and maybe he just liked small things, but birthdays were all about parties and mack was never into parties about himself alone. he did put up with it for blaire though knowing how much she loved these kinds of things and getting to celebrate him.

it did already feel different anyway since he was in san jose and not boston or vancouver, but a good different. that excitement was buzzing and maybe it wouldn’t be too bad after all getting to be celebrated and spend the day with his girlfriend and then family later.

blaire got to his place thirty minutes on the dot since their last texts. honk, honk, honk. the boy laughed as he peaked out the window to see her sitting in the driveway waving up at him from her car. she must've convinced her brother to use the jeep because the top was off for the perfectly sunny day ahead.

his heart was so full.

"happy birthdayyy," blare sang a bit when mack greeted her.

"thank you," he appreciated her kiss on his cheek once he climbed into the passenger seat. he noticed a few bags of gifts in the backseat before she quickly shielded his eyes when she noticed him looking.

"those are for later, so you can't look. i do have this for you now, though," she revealed a small box from behind her back.

mack was flattered, "you didn't need to get me anything."

"ugh, you say that every time, yet i always get you something. open it," she poked his shoulder eagerly.

the hockey player slowly unraveled the bow and pulled the top off. he didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't such a shiny, crisp, and fancy chain. his eyes widened a bit, pulling it out to see it further and his heart melted even more when he noticed a small "b" charm dangling off of it.

"i got a little inspired by samy. i was asking her what i should get you and she said will loved the one she got him, so i copied a bit. like it?" blaire explained the gift but the boy beside her was still in shock.

he'd never seen a chain so nice before. he's had his since he was 14 or so and never once did it cross his mind that someone would get him a new one.

"god, i love it. how much did you spend on this?" the boy wondered.

"pshh, that doesn't matter. i'm glad you like it. i kept noticing the one you wear now and as much as i love the one you've had since we were like 14, i figured you might like a new one."

mack reached over to plant a big kiss on her lips. she giggled, but quickly kissed him back. "this is so special. thank you," he admired it again and blaire was just glad he liked it.

she spent hours on the phone with samy going through different ones and what one she thought would look good on him. mack didn't waste another second taking off his old one and putting the new one on. it was a bit thinner and the chain style was different, but it fit him well. he turned to blaire so she could see.

"it looks so good. happy birthday, mack," she kissed him again earning a bright blush on the boy's face.

"what other birthday plans are there?" he wondered once they settled into the seats and blaire pulled back onto the road.

"you'll see. it's a surprise. you know i like surprises," she hummed.

the wind from the car felt nice as they road into the inner city. blaire's hair was braided back so it didn't get into her face while mack kept his tamed with a hat. he kept looking over at her, admiring the smile on her lips and the soft hum of the music coming from the speakers. it was so summer.

it was no doubt that the west coat was a good look on both of them.

the first stop was mack's favorite bakery in downtown. they sold really good chocolate cookies that the boy tended to treat himself to more often that not after a good practice or game. blaire jumped out of the car as the boy followed behind her, quickly intertwining their hands as they strolled in. it smelled so fresh as soon as they were inside.

blaire let mack get up close to the displays to decide what he wanted. "oh, those are super good. i tried them last week," he motioned to a cherry-filled croissant.

"i tried this blueberry biscuit the other day. it was super good," blaire hummed.

they looked through the entire display, but mack was a man of tradition and liked to stick to what he knew. he ordered two chocolate chip cookies so blaire could have one too. he got his card out to pay, but the girl was quicker and got to the machine faster.

"what? it's your birthday. i'm not letting you pay," she argued when she saw the look he gave her.

"you know i don't care," he mumbled.

"babe, let me treat you on your birthday. you can get me back for my birthday in a few weeks. plus, these are a treat from will and i anyway," blaire winked and mack understood.

"ah, i see," he chuckled.

once the cookies were acquired, the two went back to the car to enjoy them. mack let her have first pick of which one she wanted because at least he could still be a gentleman that way. they took a bite at the same time, the savory chocolate quite literally melting into their mouths.

"this will never get old," the rookie hummed happily.

blaire snapped a photo so she could send it to will so he knew the cookies were a success.

the next stop was further north, but blaire still didn't say where. the only clues mack had were the highway directions as they drove up 280 to somewhere. blaire said nothing, but the smile on her lips said more. she was really enjoying these surprises and honestly, macklin was too.

she used to do these kinds of things when they were in high school together and then also in chicago. it was like her thing and the boy always enjoyed seeing what she came up with. she was one of the reasons he started liking his birthday again.

"how do you come up with such elaborate surprises like these?" mack wondered randomly.

"i don't know. it just kind of comes to me. my mom did it a lot for us when we were kids, so i guess that's where i got it from," the girl flushed a bit. mack smiled though, reaching over to squeeze her hand. he knew how much her mom meant to her and how she always tried to honor her in different ways.

"that's sweet. i'm glad you do these," his words made her smile.

the further north they went, the more macklin started to narrow down where they could be going. signs for half moon bay kept appearing and he started to wonder if that was where they were going. he'd never been, but he knew blaire's been a few times with friends and before they reunited. she always talked about how much he’d love it because of the impressive golf course on the fancy resort.

his inklings were correct when she pulled off the highway towards the beach.

"woah," the boy muttered when he caught glimpses of the pacific lining the drop offs and mini cliffs lined against the highway.

"isn't it amazing?" blaire grinned. she took them up to the state beach so they could get out and walk around for a bit.

the views were honestly incredible. the dirty blonde pulled mack out of the car where they jogged a bit to the clearing and oogled at the scenery. mack just had to pull out his phone to snap a few photos and some of blaire when she wasn’t looking. his smile was wide and he couldn’t think of the last time someone planned a whole day like this for him. it was really special and the sharks player would definitely cherish it for a long time.

neither of them cared about getting their clothes sandy, so they sat down for a minute to just take it all in. the waves were melancholic as they lapped on the shore and then splashed back down into the deep sea below. the boy wrapped his arm around her torso and blaire pressed her face into his cheek.

“good birthday so far?” she wondered and mack’s nod was genuine.

“it’s been really good. thank you. you’ve outdone yourself again,” he chuckled.

the girl’s smile grew wider, “just wait until tonight. it doesn’t end yet.”

they stayed on the beach for another ten minutes before mack wanted to drive past the golf course. there was a pretty route they could take back towards home and still admire the views. mack looked like a little kid in the passenger seat—his eyes wide with amazement and awe at how beautiful a place could be.

the huge castle-like building came into view that was home to the most beautiful course in california. blaire slowed a bit so her boyfriend could snap his pictures and get good video probably to show the guys later. she giggled, loving how excited he was about it.

“babe, look at this. it’s beautiful,” the boy gushed.

“i know. you’ll have to play up here sometime.”

“god, yeah. some weekend definitely. you’ll come drive the cart around,” he looked at her with a cheesy smile and she rolled her eyes.

they lingered for a bit longer so mack could just take it in. he looked so content which wasn’t very often, especially during the season, so blaire wanted that to last forever on him. she’d pull off the road and let him stare at it for hours if that’s what he wanted and what it took to keep him so calm and happy.

“sometimes i wonder what would’ve happened if i never got drafted here. like..would we have ever crossed paths again?” now the hockey player was just rambling because he wanted to. blaire flushed.

“i think we would have eventually. it may have been more down the line, but yeah, i think so. i think about it sometimes and i think that we would’ve met in every timeline,” the girl admitted and he’d never heard her say something like that before. he tore his gaze from the course to look at her, his lips turned up into a small smile.

“i don’t think i’ve ever heard you say that before,” he chuckled.

“oh come on, i can be sappy sometimes. i’m just saying. i don’t think there’s any timeline where we wouldn’t have met, you know? we would’ve found our way back to each other eventually.”

“can i ask something?” the brunette wondered.

“yeah?”

“did you really wanna break up with me back then?”

blaire definitely wasn’t expecting that question. she gathered her thoughts for a second, wondering what exactly she wanted to say about that. “like..no. i didn’t. i just thought it would be better if we did? i was trying to save myself the hurt of long distance. i mean you know this already. we definitely would have found our way back to each other though.”

“i really didn’t want to break up with you either, but i was convinced that was what would make you happy and i wanted you to be happy, so i did it. i wish i didn’t though and fought for us more,” mack admitted too.

“i’m really glad we did find our way back to each other though. had you not seen me at that game, i would’ve probably texted you anyway about being in san jose,” blaire blushed and the boy smiled.

“me too honestly.”

they squeezed each other’s hands before deciding to get going back to home to meet up with mack’s family for the rest of the day and have a birthday dinner together. apparently toffoli was also coming, so the boy was excited to see him after the few weeks since starting the off season. mack would be up in michigan in a few weeks for the summer at the hughes lake house, so he wouldn’t see the older player until at least end of july, beginning of august when the season started back up again.

the couple took the backroads back to san jose though. they wanted to have more time with the scenery and just more time to themselves in general. whenever they were around mack’s siblings, they never shut up about things and charlie tried stealing all of blaire attention like any younger sister would who was best friends with the brother’s girlfriend.

it was safe to say though that mack’s birthday morning was well spent. he’s enjoyed it way more than any other birthday mornings by far. maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.

[girlactionfigure]

A Desperate Plea to the Israeli People to Stop Being Idiots, Part 2

In my previous article, I explained why the noisy demand to get back all hostage at any price is unrealistic and only hurting everyone, including the hostage families. 

Today I want to address the sheer idiocy of the people saying, “let’s stop the war, we can renew it any time we want.”

Here’s why anyone saying this is delusional:

The Enemy Does Not Sleep

While strictly speaking, you can attack anyone at any time—it doesn’t contradict the laws of physics—history shows this is simply not something Israel does, with the sole exception of 1967, which happened under a totally different kind of government. 

Gaza spent two decades building a deadly war machine, digging one of the largest military tunnel systems on the planet, smuggling tens of thousands of rockets and guns and promising to destroy Israel. Israel only responded when Gaza attacked first and only in a limited way. 

None of these operations were meant to destroy the enemy. They were basically slaps on the wrist. The objective was to manage the conflict, not to win it.

It took the murder and kidnapping of almost 1,400 people for Israel to take Gaza seriously and even then Israel chose limited action rather than total war.

So, in light of this, do you believe that if things calm down, Israel will start a serious war because Gaza smuggled in a few rockets, dug another tunnel, opened another training camp? 

Don’t fool yourself.

Nothing will happen until Gaza lunches the next October 7.

Taking Hostages Becomes the Doomsday Weapon

The excellent commentator Amit Sagel wrote last year that Israel set a dangerous precedent for the entire world. For the first time in recent history, a state has agreed to exchange hostages not just for prisoners, but for political and military concessions. 

If this works, from now on, the enemy will kidnap Israelis and instead of “just” demanding prisoner release, they’ll demand withdrawal from territories held by Israel, acceptance of Iran’s nuclear program, dismantling Jewish towns…

His analysis is 100% correct except this isn’t the first time in history a state is paying a strategic battlefield price for its citizens' return. 

In 1995, Chechen separatists attacked the Russian city of Budyonnovsk, killed and injured hundreds of people, and took almost 2,000 civilians hostage. The Chechens demanded a ceasefire and a safe passage for the militants. Russia acquiesced and withdrew from Chechnya, granting it de-facto independence. 

Four years later, Chechnya invaded Russia, destroying several villages and displacing tens of thousands of people. This led to a second Russian invasion of Chechnya, resulting in countless deaths for both nations and widespread destruction. 

So, it happened before and it ended very poorly. Why learn from your own mistakes when you can learn from somebody else’s mistakes?

A War Not Fought For Winning Is Not Worth Fighting

Germany and Japan held millions of Allied prisoners for 45 months. The death rate among American POWs in Japanese camps was almost 40%! This was hell on earth.

This didn't make America abandon the good fight. American bombings killed American prisoners. The atom bomb killed American prisoners. This was painful, but America pushed on. The American people understood that this was the price they were paying to secure the future of their nation. They realized the price of leaving evil smoldering was another world conflagration that will ultimately cost a lot more lives, including the lives of their families and loved ones. 

However, there’s a deeper issue here.

Each time you ask a man to risk his life for a futile war, he becomes less willing to do it again. He becomes jaded and cynical. Why risk your life and lose friends fighting for an enemy stronghold only to see it given back to the enemy a month later for a piece of paper? Why risk your life fighting door to door, when you know your government could just blow up the whole vipers’ nest from the air but chooses to sacrifice you for PR.

Such actions kill the soul of the nation. Goodwill is limited resource. Don’t waste it.

Unique Circumstances

Trump is unique circumstances. October 7 is unique circumstances. 

When was the last time Israel had such a unique internal and external justification to act? When was the last time an American president was as supportive as Trump? Just a few month ago, who could have imagined the White House would be more Kahanist than any political party in Israel? When was the last time America urged anyone to kick out the hostile population from a region they conquered?

This is a totally unique opportunity that may never return again. Squandering it will be an unforgivable crime.

Bloody Inflation

Let’s look at the causality rates from each war in Gaza since the Israeli government ethnically cleansed Gaza of Jews and left the enemy to his own devices.

'06: 1 

'08: 13 

'14: 73 

'23: 2000 

Do you see the trend?

The enemy learns from his mistakes, adapts, and builds a more powerful war machine after each war. We can't afford to let them keep doing it. They must be destroyed utterly and they must be destroyed now!

URI KURLIANCHIK

APR 25

[soleminisanction]

So. What actually happened between Secret and Spoiler?

The meat of this story goes down in Young Justice (1998) #30.

Taking place sometime shortly after the YJ crew returns from their adventures in space with Doiby Dickles, the story proper opens with a scene of Steph trying to follow Tim home to find out his identity and getting caught to establish that tension in their current dynamic for anyone who wasn't also reading Robin at the time.

As a refresher, when they decided to date (which was a couple of publishing years back at this point, during the events leading up to No Man's Land) Tim had tried to talk Steph out of it because he couldn't tell her his secret identity and he didn't think that was fair. Steph had responded with, quote, "I don't care about any of that, Robin. I just want to be with you." But she'd recently decided she wasn't happy with that arrangement after all and had been sneaking around trying to learn his identity behind his back.

This issue is very cathartic to me because it's one of the only times she's called out for violating her boyfriend's privacy, which starts here:

Couple of things to make note of here: Greta's not attacking Steph. We'd previously seen what it looks like when she uses her billowing clouds of angry smoke to attack (against Harm and the Pointmen, for example), and that's not what's happening here, she's just really pissed off. Steph is the one who escalates the whole thing to violence with that kick.

And while there is an element of jealousy here -- Secret did follow Robin home to get a look at his girlfriend -- the thing that's set her off isn't seeing Steph with Robin, it's learning of and seeing her self-centered justifications for her plans to continue trying to violate his boundaries. Which, it should also be noted, is something that Secret could do much more easily, but chooses not to. So it probably just pisses her off even more to learn that her crush is dating someone who'd disrespect him like that.

So they take it outside.

Where Greta, despite her anger, is almost certainly holding back because... yeah, let's face it, Steph doesn't actually stand a chance in this match-up. She has no powers, she hasn't even trained with Cass at this point; I don't know where she got that grenade but she's otherwise working with like a red belt in strip mall aikido and a bunch of gear she probably bought out of the back of a magazine. Secret is a sentient hellportal, a conduit between the realms of the living and the dead. She's pissed off, but she's still mostly focused on calling Steph out with her words rather than physically harming her.

Which Steph responds to with, again, a grenade and... this:

Why yes, that sword does come out of nowhere for a single panel and then vanishes into the ether, never to be explained or mentioned again. I find that hilarious. I suspect the script just said "Spoiler cuts the power lines" and left Todd Nauck to figure out how that worked.

But uh, speaking of how that worked -- in Greta's defense for how she'll behave later on in this post, Steph just clearly tried to kill her first. Like. I assume that any grenade a Bat is carrying around isn't so high-powered that it's actually going to hurt somebody if thrown at them directly so for all my joking I'll give her a pass for that, but the power lines?

Steph, of course, has no way of knowing that electricity is Greta's weakness, let alone that it's a trauma trigger for her. But she also has no way of knowing that Greta isn't an average metahuman teenager who would just, y'know, die from being hit with several hundred to several thousand volts of electricity. Which is part of a trend in Steph's characterization -- she's always had a tendency to make rash, dangerous decisions like this and only consider the ramifications after the consequences smack her in the face.

And once again, this is Steph's escalation; Greta only lets loose after Steph tries to low-key murder her. But I did say in my previous post that she was explicitly trying not to kill Steph here, right? That's because she's not:

"Oh," she says, directly to Steph's face. "I'm not going to kill you, but you're going to wish I had!"

The issue ends with Tim giving the girls a lecture about trust that... honestly, doesn't actually make much sense, but it's only there to set up the bullshit Bruce would soon pull in Robin to wrap up the whole Steph-and-Tim's-secret-identity subplot.

Instead, I'll just take this moment to point out that these two pages are the only part that anyone besides Steph and Greta themselves actually saw: Steph, overpowered and running like bugger all while a furious Greta hunted her down. Tim and Red Tornado don't have any other context for this encounter, and anyone else hearing about it would have even less.

We should also probably address the question of whether Greta was actually trying to hurt Steph here and: no, I don't think she was. Not physically, anyway. I think when she tells Reddy that she "just wanted to scare" Steph, she was telling the truth. Which, mind you, means she was going to dump her into a terrifying hell dimension and give her a repeated taste of her own mortality. But it wouldn't have hurt her; it didn't hurt the gang when they teleported through it in issue 19. And, frankly, between this issue and the shit Steph pulls over the course of the Robin issues around this subplot... I think she deserved it.

I never said I wasn't a hater.

Now, to be fair, Steph has no way to know this. She doesn't know Greta, and she doesn't have a reason to think kindly of her. And like I mentioned, it's an important part of Greta's storyarc that her powers and her connection to death makes her friends suspicious of her, and that suspicion sadly drives her to Darksied.

Which is why I'm inclined to think that their next encounters, brief as they are, are deliberately framed. First in issue 50:

And then in issue 54, during the storyline where Secret has allied herself with Darksied:

This leads into Greta basically eating Steph for reasons that don't actually have to do with their conflict -- she's already eaten the D.E.O., ie, the people who held her prisoner, and would continue to eat, it's implied, everyone on Earth except the members of Young Justice, saving them for last as we come to climax of the story. That probably counts as "trying to kill Steph" so technically speaking Greta has tried to kill Steph once, it just wasn't the time everybody thinks about or in a jealous rage. It wasn't personal at all, she was just part of a checklist.

The important bit I wanted to focus on was Steph and Tim's descriptions of their past encounter, and the fact that Greta calls it an exaggeration. With that context, I'm inclined to think that "almost killed me in a jealous rage" is the way that Steph framed their story to other people, not necessarily because she was trying to manipulate anybody, but because that's how she, Stephanie, internalized and interpreted the event.

Because Steph, demonstrably, doesn't think she was doing anything wrong. If she wants something, like her boyfriend's secret identity, or whatever, she will come up with excuses and justifications why she should get to have it ("He's testing me! He wants me to figure it out!" etc.) and no one can change her mind. So it's inconceivable to her that this person who clearly has a crush on her boyfriend would actually be mad at her for the reason they say they're mad at her; clearly, to her, Secret was jealous, and therefore Secret must have been the aggressor. Plus, she was big and scary and Steph (to be fair) had no way of knowing that Greta was mostly just having trouble keeping her emotions under control.

And because nobody else saw what went down between them, people were more inclined to believe Steph's story over Greta's, partially because Greta was clearly the overpowering victor when Red Tornado and Robin arrived on the scene, and partially because Greta's powers mean people, even her friends, tend to be suspicious of her, which is a key point in her personal, rather tragic storyarc.

---

So, to summarize, because I know this has gotten rambly: Greta followed Steph home to investigate her and was angered by her violating Robin's privacy. Steph escalated their dispute into violence, and then further into attacks that could be perceived as lethal until she bit off more than she could chew. Robin and Red Tornado, arriving at the tail end of the fight, only saw the much more powerful Secret overwhelming normal human Spoiler and were therefore more inclined to believe Steph's version of the story which, naturally, framed her as the victim and Greta as the aggressor, when it was in actuality a more even fight fueled by anger rather than jealousy.

[cyclogenesis]

life update i'm leaving for france in approx eight hours but we still managed to fit in some fucking family drama nonsense last night and this morning like my life is RIDICULOUS

the thing is there's still so much stuff i didn't even talk about here during the Worst Four Months of My Life and that includes one insane thing which was both of my biological parents being in the same room with me for the first time in my entire life.

god, okay, let me summarize the lore. never knew my bio dad, mom didn't even know who he was bc she was 20 and fucking around (fine) and she didn't want to talk about it and got mad when i brought it up. i eventually decide to do an ancestry dna test at age 36 and with the help of my half-first cousin and a lot of googling i find him and reach out. it goes amazing. he's fantastic, he's thrilled to find out about me, we eventually meet in person and get along super well and it completely rules. i tell my mom and she's clearly resentful that i'm making her think about it but ultimately manages to peek over the precipice of her own selfishness and accept it.

so while i'm getting to know bio dad chris these are also covid times and my mom and stepdad are going insane bc they're entitled boomers who genuinely resent the idea that they might have to care about other people ever and they get facebooked into believing all sorts of dumb shit. i'm like, 'what??' and my stepdad yells at me and hangs up on me and my mom texts me and says 'don't respond to this message but you need to apologize to him' oh my god this is making me angry all over again. okay.

ultimately: i try to have a grown-up conversation with them in person thanksgiving 2021. stepdad yells at me, grabs my mom and they zoom away in his jeep. literally. grammy is pissed at me because i told my parents they hurt my feelings, which is so much worse than the fact that they hurt my feelings that our relationship is never the same. neither my mom nor my stepdad directly contact me again for TWO YEARS until my mom asks me to come for christmas and i tell her we need to have a serious talk first and then she ghosts me. for another year.

but then of course my stepdad who she chose over me divorces her, and i'm forced to interact with her again bc grammy's dying, and we never talk about it, and she never apologizes, bc she's an unbelievable fucking asshole. i have to shove all this down to my own detriment to help take care of grammy, who has also been an asshole to me, and i think we can all agree that not only am i a saint, but i should be crowned the next pope.

so while i'm in fresno, bio dad chris says he wants to come down and see grammy bc we'd all met up a few times and she really liked him (everyone does, he's great). i tell my mom, who has not seen him since they worked at sizzler together and fucked around one crazy autumn and conceived me, and she's like 'oh, great!' and i'm like good bc i wasn't asking.

so this is how, at age 41, i end up in the same room with both of my parents for the first time ever. chris and my mom hug and my mom starts crying, bc she did have fond memories of this guy she hadn't seen since she was 20 and everyone's emotions are running high. grammy's happy to see chris. we sit at grammy's dining room table and eat burger king and i'm like whooooa i'm having dinner with my parents for the first time ever. bro that is crazy. it was crazy!!!!

my mom pulls me aside and is like, wow, it's really great to see him, he's as nice as i remembered, and she's clearly beating around the bush so i'm like he's hot, right? and she's relieved like YES, he's hot, and i'm like lol. and then later she's like 'i think i kind of have a crush on him' and my life flashes before my eyes and i'm like haha but in my head i'm living the anti-parent trap. i would rather die than see my parents get (back) together. bitch leave him alone. i would not inflict my mother on him in a thousand years. he's great and she sucks. the best thing they ever did and will do is create me.

the next morning she gets a mildly upsetting text from my ex-stepdad and tags chris and is like 'can i talk to you for a second?' and from the other room i hear her say 'i know sara doesn't care about this' because she is a manipulative fucking asshole trying to get him on her side by making me look bad because there is something deeply and profoundly wrong with her and then she tells him she's upset bc ex-stepdad wants them to do their taxes separately and she thought they were going to do them together. wow.

i escape fresno. after a little more communication things trickle down into her barely contacting me bc, as we know, this was already a relationship she felt fine abandoning for three years, lmao. in a moment of weakness i text her about how i talked to amber benson and it was neat and she doesn't even text me back until the following morning. cool, fuck you too.

in april she asks me to come visit though! well, actually, she asks if i want to see if chris can come down too and we can all go together to see her high school best friend's cover band play at the table mountain casino. she suggests we look into getting a room at the hotel there and it's $289 a night to stay in a standard room at this casino in rural fresno county, which is more money than i spent for a ticket to fucking paris and also i don't want to go. i decline. from then on she doesn't text me and i have to text her in order to find out details about grammy's house selling, a thing she is present for and i am not. thanks.

so this morning i get this text:

oh my god. oh my god. oh my god. 'i don't want to put you on the spot' puts me on the spot. 'sad and lonely' damn that's crazy you're feeling alone bc the man you chose over me left you? what's it like to feel sad and lonely, tell me about it, you abandoned me for three fucking years so maybe i can relate. oh my god. i am just like i am fucking INCANDESCENT with rage. the audacity. the sheer fucking NERVE, can you imagine, as if i'm supposed to be sympathetic to HER, as if she has any right to ask me for a favor, after every fucking thing she's done, the abominable way that she has treated me, her only child, over the last several years, as if i would ever feed him into the gaping fucking narcissistic black hole of a maw that is her whiny, thoughtless, selfish, bitchy, NIGHTMARE OF A SELF...oh my god.

i left her ass on read. yeah i hope she feels stupid asking. i hope she feels sad and lonely and pathetic and not worth loving and so fucking easy to leave behind the way that she made me feel for three fucking years after she walked out on me. god i am so fucking ANGRY!!! every person i've told this whole story to has gotten the requisite joke about how i'm out here making the anti-parent trap happen bc lmao girl stay away from him but i still would not have imagined she would just straight up ask me to set her up with him. fuck off. FUCK OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

anyway this also follows last night when cousin leahmann the failure of an estate executor who nevertheless gets a third of everything called me and was like 'donnie doesn't have a headstone, it's $1600, i'll pay most of it but you can contribute' and then waited in silence for me to be like 'oh sure! i already shelled out $1481 for my share of the burial costs that she lied to me about pre-paying and insisted go toward her wishes of being put in a coffin and then into the ground with no funeral so there was no point and also she is dead so it doesn't matter what she wanted, to be honest, i think we should have just cremated her, and i'm never going to visit the gravesite, bc she's not in there, the thing that made her her is gone so i would not even be giving you money for an expensive rock for her, it would be for you, bc this is meaningful to you, not me, and it would feel to me like setting hundreds of dollars on fire in addition to the $1481 i already set on fire for you who insisted on getting the box and the hole in the ground,' but instead i was like well, let's see if the house sale goes through, bc that's presumably going to happen this week, i fucking hope.

and what's also insane is that he said to me repeatedly, after i gave up my only source of income and a month of my life to move in with grammy and take care of her at the end, that he would give me part of his share of the proceeds from the house for helping out so much, so why not just subtract whatever he wanted from me for the rock from however much he's going to give me as a thank you, right, like why are we even talking about this unless he's also a huge liar like grammy was and isn't going to follow through on his word, like my god, these FUCKING PEOPLE!!!!

so, neither he nor my mother know that i'm leaving the country tonight and will not be back for two and a half months lol. mom will find out from facebook when i post photos from paris the same way i used to find out things about her life from facebook bc she never told me shit either. here's hoping i just get to come back home to a check and then never have to deal with these people ever again!!!!!

[xtruss]

These Sandhill Cranes Have Adopted A Canada Gosling, And Birders Have Flocked To Watch The Strange Family

Ornithologists And Locals Wonder What The Future Holds For This Chick Being Raised By Much Taller, But Still Doting Parents

— Anne Readel | June 18, 2025

Sandhill Crane and Gosling! A Sandhill Crane Stands Over a Canada Gosling It adopted in Madison, Wisconsin. Such interspecies adoptions appear to have become more common in recent years. Cynthia Carlson

The first time I saw the family, I did a double take. Two tall sandhill crane parents strutted through the marsh, their downy red colt toddling behind them. And then, just a few steps later, came another chick—rounder, fluffier and distinctly yellow. A Canada gosling.

In a small pond in Madison, Wisconsin, a pair of sandhill cranes is raising a baby Canada goose as their own. The combination appears to be only the third confirmed instance of such a cross-species adoption—which was observed previously in Michigan in 2019, and again just last year in Madison. However, an unusual sighting in Alaska in 2011, when a Canada goose was seen living with and behaving like a crane, suggests this kind of adoption may have happened even earlier.

These rare adoptions may be happening more often for several reasons, says Anne Lacy, director of eastern flyway programs at the International Crane Foundation. Sandhill cranes and Canada geese populations have both rebounded in recent decades and, like foxes and coyotes, have proved remarkably adept at moving into urban landscapes. That adaptability has brought them into closer proximity. Geese, which are grazers, can thrive in a wide range of developed spaces, including manicured retention ponds. Cranes, by contrast, are omnivores that still seek out wetlands with more habitat diversity. Suburban wetlands with semi-natural edges—where mowed lawns meet natural vegetation—often offer enough habitat for cranes while still supporting geese, creating an area of ecological overlap. In these shared spaces, the chances for unusual interactions are much higher. At the same time, people are paying closer attention to birds, notes Lacy, and are focusing on this pairing because it’s weird.

Exactly how the gosling ended up with the cranes remains in dispute. Some local photographers believe a Canada goose laid an egg in the cranes’ nest. Others think the cranes took over a goose nest—which already contained a goose egg—after spring floods washed out theirs. Whatever the origin, one thing is certain: When the gosling hatched, it imprinted on the cranes and now follows them as if it were one of their own.

Marjorie Rhine, a local photographer, was one of the first to witness the unusual family. While watching a nesting crane keeping a chick warm beneath its feathers, she was startled when a bright yellow gosling popped out instead of a crane colt. “It’s just hard for your brain to compute. It’s not supposed to be bright yellow,” she says. What struck her most, though, was the way the parent responded. “It just seemed really loving,” she explains.

I watched a similarly surreal and moving scene—a sleek-legged crane doting tenderly on a yellow ball of fluff tucked beside it.

Since then, photographers have captured hours of video footage and thousands of images of the unusual family. Many have watched the cranes treat the gosling just like their own colt: feeding, sheltering and defending it—even from the gosling’s presumed biological parents, a Canada goose pair that have repeatedly tried to reclaim the gosling.

Numerous observers have seen the geese approach the crane family—circling the nest, honking loudly and even charging at the cranes. But when the geese got too close, “Dad was there with his mighty wings,” says Alan Ginsberg, a local photographer who witnessed several such confrontations.

A Sandhill Crane Colt and Canada Gosling nestle against its crane parent in Madison. Alan Ginsberg

Why the cranes accepted the gosling likely comes down to timing and hormones. Michael Ward, an ornithologist at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, has seen just how flexible sandhill cranes can be. He recalls one case where a pair tried to incubate a red rubber ball that had found its way into their nest. And once a chick hatches, the adults are hormonally primed to parent it. “They’re in this maternal or paternal phase, and they’re being protective and supportive,” says Ward.

While the cranes may not care that the gosling waddling after them isn’t biologically theirs, its future is far from certain. Geese and cranes differ in many ways, such as diet, behavior and migration strategies. Cranes feed their young insects, worms and the occasional small mammal. Geese are grazers, built to forage independently. “When I first heard about this last year, I had some real concerns about the gosling,” says Lacy. “They eat very different things.”

I’ve noticed some of their differences when observing them. Instead of nibbling on grass like a typical gosling, this one eagerly slurps down worms offered by its crane parents. The gosling is also a far stronger swimmer than its adoptive parents—zipping circles around them in the water—though it’s clumsier on land as it tries to match the adults’ long-legged stride.

As the gosling matures, migration could present another challenge. “There could be an issue when they become flighted,” Ward says. “Cranes fly higher and migrate at different times of the year than geese do. … By the time it’s got to migrate, something’s going to give.” Cranes often fly at around 5,000 feet—so high they’re often barely visible—while geese typically migrate between 1,000 and 3,000 feet or lower. Their timing also differs: Geese tend to begin migrating in September, if they migrate at all, while cranes from Wisconsin usually depart in October or November—after the first cold snap. Cranes also often travel longer distances to wintering grounds in the southeastern United States, while geese often remain in the Midwest. “It is possible the adopted goose would migrate with the cranes,” Ward says, but “I would expect it would have trouble physiologically.”

A Sandhill Crane Pair takes a stroll with its Colt and adopted Canada Gosling in Madison. Cynthia Carlson

Whether the gosling will make it to adulthood and attempt to migrate remains an open question. While the crane parents are attentive, both of its chicks face risks. The biggest threats to young cranes—and, now, to this gosling—are land-based predators like raccoons, foxes and coyotes, particularly in the early mornings or evenings when the family is out foraging, explains Lacy. Aerial predators like great horned owls are less common, but possible. And snapping turtles, which inhabit the pond, add another threat.

Not all stories like this have happy endings. With the two previously documented adoptions, neither gosling survived. The gosling in Michigan died of unknown causes. The one in Madison last year was killed by a dog. “It was a golden retriever on one of those stretchy leashes, and it got the gosling in its mouth,” recalls Cynthia Carlson, a photographer who documented the 2024 adoption, as well as this year’s. The gosling was taken to a wildlife rescue but died shortly after. “I was so sad that we didn’t get to see how the whole situation ended up,” she says.

Despite the challenges that the gosling faces, local observers still have reasons for hope. Sandhill cranes are known for strong nest site fidelity, often defending the same territory season after season. Ralph Russo, another local photographer who has been photographing the cranes here for a long time, notes the pair at this site have successfully raised multiple offspring over the years. That experience could give both chicks a better-than-average shot, says Lacy. “Nobody likes to see baby animals not make it,” she adds. “But quite honestly, that’s the rule, not the exception.”

Sandhill Cranes!

Ward notes that while a gosling raised by cranes may have a reduced chance of survival, death is far from the only potential outcome. “It’s not like it’s doomed to die,” he says. He also believes the gosling could rejoin its own species, a sentiment that Lacy echoes. “It may just incorporate itself into a gaggle of geese,” she notes.

How this unusual tale will end is uncertain, but Ward hopes people also appreciate the bigger picture. The eastern population of sandhill cranes—which primarily nest in Wisconsin, Michigan and Ontario—has rebounded from fewer than 20,000 birds in 1979 to around 110,000 in 2023 thanks to habitat protection and regulated hunting. Canada geese have experienced a similarly remarkable recovery, increasing from 1.26 million in 1970 to around seven million today. “Fifty years ago, neither species was around here,” Ward explains. “Conservation has brought both of these species back.”

Each time I visit the pond, I find myself lingering longer than planned, watching the family alongside other photographers, birders and curious onlookers. Each visitor may take away something different, but Russo’s words resonate with me: “It reminds me of the pleasure of just being in nature and being surprised by what nature can do,” he says. “It’s been wonderful and joyful and fascinating to witness.”