#(Also if he doesn’t let me pay for his work I’m gonna bonk him over the head with a comedically large club 🤣)

[divine-knight-hand]

[Watching my best friend bake cookies when “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” plays over his speaker]

Me: This is the perfect song to bake cookies to~

Him: Yeah, I guess you could say that.

Me: *Wink Wink*

Him: OHHH!!! That was a thing!!! That you wrote!!! 😮

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

raven-san, can we please have a wedding crashing where jade needs to marry this girl from another crime family to consolidate power and become the next head of the leech mob :)) but floyd's like I'M BORED and annoyed that his brother's being snatched up by a random chick, so he asks basketball bros, and azul, to help save jade?

This one is super long, so I added some extra sections and placed the rest of the wedding crashing below the cut!

***Spoilers for Jamil and Floyd’s Unique Magic!!***

"I object to this wedding...!"

Pre-Wedding Jitters

A call comes for the twins in the dead of night, without warning. It’s their parents with exciting news: they’re naming Jade as the next Don Leech. The catch? The Leech mob’s in the middle of a merger with the Worm mob, and he’ll have to marry Don Worm’s daughter to secure the deal.

Jade, ever the dutiful son, is honored by his future title and calmly agrees to the arrangement. On the other hand, Floyd’s annoyed by the idea, and can’t keep quiet about his irritation. He calls out to his twin in the darkness.

“... Ne, Jade.”

“Ee, Floyd?”

“Are you really okay with going through with this? You’re just gonna do what they said? Even though you don’t know the Worms at all? Even if you’ve never met that girl before?”

“It is a request coming directly from father and mother. How could I refuse them? And, furthermore... If I do not undertake this task, then it would fall to you, the next choice to inherit the title of Don Leech. I cannot allow that to come to pass--fufu. You do so enjoy your freedom, yes?”

“... Jade, you’re so dumb sometimes. What’ll happen to your freedom, then? Will you get so busy with being the big boss and being married... that you won’t have time to play anymore?”

“... Perhaps. But that is a sacrifice I am willing to make.”

That thought doesn’t sit well with Floyd--not at all.

“I trust that you will make your own fun of the situation,” Jade reassures him. “You always do.”

As the weeks pass, Floyd sees less and less of Jade around, since he has to prepare for the wedding. Jade reassures him that he’s doing just fine, but Floyd can see right through his lies. He can tell that Jade’s more frazzled than usual--there’s a lingering to his words, and a longing in his eyes, savoring every last bit of autonomy he has before his fate is forever sealed.

Floyd hates it. He hates being lied to by his own brother, and he hates feeling powerless to stop the wedding. Floyd’s so angry that he develops this murderous aura in the weeks leading up to the wedding, which makes everyone around him shy away.

One day, he gets sick of being in the water--it’s a reminder of the wedding to come--so Floyd plays basketball on land to vent. He ends up chomping down so hard that he deflates a ball, then dunks another basketball so hard, he breaks the net.

He sprawls out on the ground and angrily shouts at the sky. His basketball bonks him on the head... and that’s when an idea hits him: maybe he can’t stop the wedding alone, but no one said he couldn’t phone some friends.

Assembling the Dream Team

Floyd first dials up Azul, who agrees to help after some whining and signing a contract agreeing to pay Azul handsomely for his services (... although truthfully, the octopus does want to help Jade, but doesn't immediately agree to do it because of his pride as a businessman).

Floyd also calls his old basketball buddies for help! Jamil and Ace are much more adamant than Azul, but Floyd strongarms them into pitching in. ("Umihebi-kun, Kani-chan, if you don't help me rescue Jade, I'll get suuuper mad, you know? I don't think you'll like me when I get mad. Moray eels are strong hunters, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem for me to track you guys down and give you a good squeeze~" "OKAY, OKAY, WE'LL DO IT!!")

Together, the four boys meet up to scheme of a way to disrupt the wedding without jeopardizing the Leech mob's future. Floyd actively leads the discussion, allowing his hidden genius to come to the surface.

Ace doesn’t contribute much to the strategy (laid out by Azul), but he does keep the spirit up with some jokes. Meanwhile, Jamil provides snacks for them when they work late into the night (though he keeps passing semi-glares to Azul whenever the octopus compliments him or tries to be friendly).

In preparation for the crashing, Azul brews some potions to give Jamil and Ace so they can take on temporary merforms. After all, the wedding will be underwater, in the Coral Sea, and they’ll need tail fins.

The date of destiny draws ever closer... and Floyd's never been so excited to cause chaos in his whole life.

The Crashing - Team Azul & Jamil

They split into two pairs on the day of the wedding—Azul and Jamil, and Floyd and Ace. Floyd uses his position as the future son-in-law to Don Worm to arrange a meeting between himself and the don... except Azul and Jamil will show up instead.

Don Worm shows up to the meeting in his finest clothes (which is very little, given that he’s a merman), sounding a bit annoyed the sudden summoning. “Make this quick, I’ve got to go see my baby girl’s big day... Wait. You fellas aren’t the F. Leech boy.”

“No, we aren’t, sir. We are his representatives... Proxies, if you will,” Azul insists, giving his warmest and most welcoming smile. He uses a tentacle to tug on Jamil’s tail, forcing him to smile too. “You see, there is an important business matter we needed to discuss with you on behalf of Floyd.”

“Hoh? And what would that be?”

“I believe my business associate would be better off explaining the matter than myself.” Azul gestures to Jamil, who has his head down.

“Oi, what’s with you? Don’t you know who I am, boy? It’s rude to not look your elders in the eye when they are speaking to you!! Show me the respect I deserve, from one professional to another!!”

“My apologies, sir.” Jamil looks up, locking eyes with the mob boss. “... Is this better?”

“Yes, that’s...”

“Snake Whisper.”

Don Worm suddenly goes glassy-eyed and slack-jawed. Azul claps at the sight, showering his partner with compliments. “As expected of the talented Jamil-san! Even one look from you can bring a mafia lord to his downfall. Truly, your Unique Magic is most impressive!”

“Save your flattery for later.”

Azul’s lips curl into a smirk as he whips out a golden contract from his briefcase and offers it to the don. “Now then, if you wouldn’t mind, sir... sign on the dotted line.”

The Crashing - Team Floyd & Ace

Ace and Floyd rush to the wedding venue, their tails cutting through the water like knives as they swim at a breakneck pace. Ace can barely keep up with Floyd, who surges far ahead.

“H-Hey, should we really be barging in like this?! Don’t mob families have weapons and other dangerous stuff? Is there a backdoor we can take instead? Hello?! Floyd-senpai, are you listening to me?!” (He isn’t.)

The open, underwater comes into view, and Floyd barrels in without any hesitation, tearing right through some decorations and knocking over the wedding cake with his tail. A loud CRASH! echoes through the waters, drawing eyes to him.

Jade stares at his brother from the altar—wide eyed, but a mirthful smile on his lips. Floyd waves to him, and then to his mom and dad in the crowd of guests. “Hiii, Jade! I’m here to pick you up now.”

The Worm girl starts sobbing, wailing something about how her special day’s been ruined, and where is her papa to put an end to this? At her signal, security guards, and some of the rougher looking guests—Worm family associates—lunge at Floyd, claws and teeth out. A few of them have produced wands, and what seem to be guns—loaded with harpoons.

“Bind the Heart!” Objects and stray magic go flying in all directions, hitting both people and wedding decorations. Cloth tears, columns crumble—but it’s one man against many, and he can only bind so many hearts before the blot starts to stack.

Ace makes it just in time, sending their foes and their weapons hurtling through the water with a blast of wind. “This is why I said to be careful, dammit! Your Unique Magic’s such a crapshoot—don’t just use it whenever, or you’ll be sushi!!!”

“Ahahahah! Kani-chan’s being all heroic today! That’s so cute. Don’t worry, I can play my part, too...!!”

Using his tail, Floyd hooks around a drifting merman and chucks him straight into another. They collide with a CRACK!—but Floyd barely registers it. He’s already bolting off, grabbing heads and smashing them together, slicing through others like a knife through butter.

There’s a crazed, frenzied look to him, gleeful laughter cutting through the waters and mixing with the Worm bride’s screeching. I forgot how scary Floyd-senpai can be, Ace realizes. (Jade and Floyd’s parents are cheering for him from their seats.)

Jade looks quite proud of his brother, even laughing along to the brutal slaughterfest. His bride stares at him incredulously. “Stop that brute! He’s ruining MY special day!!”

“No,” Jade replies calmly. “I don’t think I will. This is far too amusing to let it end so soon.”

She lets out a frustrated scream and launches herself at her groom, hands going for his throat. The Worm girl is slammed back with a strong hit to her gut, courtesy of Jade’s tail.

She flies back, slamming into a column—and feels a tail wrapping around her and squeezing tight. Constricting her to the point where it was difficult to breathe. A livid mermaid glares down at her, teeth bared in a snarl.

“No one lays a hand on my children,” Mama Leech declares. “No one.”

From the corner of her eye, the Worm girl can see that Jade has cast off his bow tie and flitted over to Floyd, embracing happily in a battlefield adorned with red ribbons trailing through the water. Her vision is abruptly blocked off by a broad-shouldered merman wearing a grimace.

“Now then, what shall we do with this one?” Papa Leech wonders aloud—though from his tone of voice, he has nothing good in store.

The Aftermath

“You’re all fish bait when daddy hears about this...!” the Worm girl warns, her words raspy. “Th-The merger won’t go through...! There’ll be war between the Leeches and the Worms...!”

A loud throat clearing comes from behind. “Fortunately, that won’t be happening.”

Azul and Jamil make their appearance, the octopus merman smugly showcasing a contract. “Ashengrotto—Azul Ashengrotto, legal and business extraordinaire at your service, Don Leech and Lady Leech.”

Papa Leech grunts. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“This?” Azul’s smirk widens. “Why, it’s a prenuptial stating that, in the case that an act of violence is enacted by the bride toward the groom, the marriage is considered null and void... and the bride’s family assets are to be claimed by the groom. Signed by Don Worm himself.”

“Wh-What?! Impossible!! How did you get daddy to sign such a stupid deal?!”

“Oh,” Jamil says nonchalantly, “we have our ways.”

“So... Uh, Jade-senpai’s still gonna be the next Don Leech?! And he’s gonna be in charge of an even bigger and richer family... How is that any better than the situation before?! You’re just giving him more resources for committing crimes!”

At that moment, two hands come down on Ace’s shoulders, causing him to freeze up.

“Kani-chaaaaan! Everyone!! Thanks so much for your help~”

“Yes, you have my sincerest thanks, Ace-san, Jamil-san... Azul.”

“It is my pleasure to assist such VIP clients. Ah, but there remains the matter of my promised payment—” (Jamil and Ace internally groan at Azul’s words.)

“Payment?” Don Leech scoffs. “After the ballsy operation you boys pulled off today... I’m more inclined to give you job offers instead of a one time sum. How do you lads feel about being hired as the Leech family’s personal lawyer, interrogator, and... well, whatever the heart one is good at.”

“My, my! Such a generous and lucrative offer—“

“There is no way I’m accepting that, especially if that means working with Azul.”

“Oi, I’ll have you know I’m good at lots of stuff!! I’m the one that saved Floyd’s tail fins, is no one gonna acknowledge that?!”

“You did amazing, sweetie!!” Mama Leech chirps—her tail grip tightening until the Worm girl passes out. Ace leaps back in fright. “As a reward, why don’t you let me give you a hug?”

“S-STAY BACK!!”

“Ahahahah! Everyone’s getting along so well, Jade. Isn’t this fun? You wouldn’t be able to enjoy this if you had gone to get hitched.”

“Fufufu. You are correct, Floyd. How sad it would have been if I were to miss out on touching moments such as this. From the bottom of my heart... I thank you for thinking of me, and for rushing to my aid. I could not have asked for a better brother.”

... What Floyd doesn’t know is that this was all according to keikaku Jade’s own machinations. He would never take the order to marry lying down—but he couldn’t outright defy it without immediate consequences, either.

Thank the Great Seven Jade has reliable puppets friends to help him out of a pinch. I’ll be certain to put the additional funds we have gained to good use... Perhaps to start a little mushroom farm.

[darealsaltysam]

what your paladins main says about you

a comprehensive essay by a paladins player of right around 4 years

this is like really long so i’ll make it under the cut so my followers don’t have to scroll through this if they don’t wanna

(for context i’m a current maeve main, i used to main skye and sha lin and played tyra a long while ago)

.

Androxus

it’s not a phase, mum

“i don’t care we don’t have healer, i’m really good at him i swear”

you ult every time it loads in and you die before the final shot

your favorite mode is siege because you can fly up and shoot the whole point on ult

you’re usually really stand-offish and don’t communicate much and/or a 13 year old boy with anger issues

.

Ash

you are level-headed but in a scary way

you will hold the point solo even if it costs you your streak

“get on the point” “guys get on the point” “attack the objective”

you’ll ult to save yourself 99% of the time

good leader

.

Atlas

you probably used to main lex or androxus before he came out

“he’s like a flank, but a tank, he’s great!”

you chase after solo kills instead of sticking to the point

healers hate you, flanks and damages fear you

your favorite mode is death match

.

Barik

you’re a former/current tf2 player looking for something fresh

you don’t like working too hard so you spam turrets on the point and hope for the best

“healer stick to me i’m boutta ult”

actually really nice between rounds

but you don’t communicate much mid-game and kind of do your thing

.

Bomb King

you’re a really old player. you have the beta makoa skin and you were there when lex was first released. veteran’s discount.

your favorite maps are the old ones and they barely show up any more

the team always underestimates you

“who plays bomb king in 2021 lol?”

you need a hug

.

Buck

“wait, he’s a flank? i thought he was a tank??”

you’re also a veteran in the game

you’re a dying breed. i like never see you. do you even exist?

you’ve been here since like the first day of the game

buck gets so many skins and you want all of them but the best you have is a random recolor

.

Cassie

sweetest person alive

“we can do it guys! let’s try to all rush the point this time!”

you are the bane of every flank

the opposing team hates you, your own team kind of doesn’t notice you’re there

*casually gets a pentakill*

.

Corvus

you know those weirdly political kids who like ww2 and know the details of every tank to ever exist? yeah that’s you

but like that’s corvus. as a character.

but no one ever plays him.

like i never even see him do you exist???

you are a cryptid.

.

Dredge

yo ho you’re a hoe

no seriously the other team views you and they FEAR you

“yeah i just got a penta kill” “YOU WHAT?” “eyes on the point mate don’t get distracted”

hella good at the game and hella casual about it

you like onslaught on the one sea map the most

.

Drogoz

another veteran, are we?

you’re either useless or can wipe out a whole team in seconds. there is no in-between.

you always have a really cool skin.

dovahkiin, dovahkiin...

“i don’t care about the point i gotta get them trips”

.

Evie

you bought her because you thought she was cute, admit it

*turns into ice right before dying* *turns into ice right before dying* *turns into ice right be

your personality type is identical to her. no question about that.

always buys faster reload and better speed

strangely good communication with the team

.

Fernando

gay gay homosexual gay

“he’s kinda hot if you look at him the right way”

fernando is the tank for gay people

you are gay people

i don’t have much more to say

.

Furia

mum energy. not as much as inara mains, but still, mum energy.

will protect every member of the team with your life, even the flanks

you’ve been maining her since she was first added

i bet you didn’t even know she’s canonically seris’ sister

“we’ve literally failed to capture the point the last 3 times we might as well give up and go to another game”

.

Grohk

“yeah i have a gremlincore tumblr blog, how could you tell?”

i honestly have no words

you’re kind of like a catboy but a racoon

do you even heal the team or do you just pretend

you were there when lex got announced and thought he was cringe, now everyone finally agrees with you

.

Grover

he was your first purchased character and he’s stuck around ever since

he’s the only healer you can play well

“i am groot lmao”

you would never say a word to your team

would give your life for the tank but that’s about it

.

Imani

daenerys targaryen on drugs

your favorite anime is my hero academia

your husbando is todoroki

you see where i am going with this

“team protect me i’m gonna ult” *dies 5 seconds into ult*

.

Inara

BIG MUM ENERGY

your team is your family. you will protect them with your life.

can only hold your own with a good healer so you have good teamwork going for you

*cutely places wall in front of your ult*

useless in tdm so you stick to onslaught, siege and koth

.

Io

are you a furry, furry, or a furry?

“victow! dont ult on my tweam pwease! uwu!”

you 100% find her attractive in some way shape or form

you are either a 30 year old redditor who enjoys loli content or a 16 year old teen who is playing a shooter for the first time

she’s kind of cute, i guess

.

Jenos

i can never tell if i’m going to absolutely destroy you or if you’re gonna kick my ass

*cutely holds you up so the whole team can shoot you to death*

kamehameha

you’re a healer??? i guess???

your character has such deep lore and i bet you don’t even know half of it

.

Khan

one day you were playing and your team desperately needed a tank. you picked the first one you saw. suddenly, you’re lian’s foot stool

despite 2 layers of heavy armor, you’d still let this man walk all over you

“this skin is really cool, wish it wasn’t behind a pay wall...”

YEET

you actually know the game’s lore, for some reason

.

Kinessa

i never trust people who are good at a sniper. if you’re bad that’s natural and you’re 99% of the population. if you’re good you are definitely up to something

you’d sell your sister for 5 pennies if you could

you’re missing from the team all game and somehow have the most kills

“we have a kinessa???”

you are an urban legend to your team

.

Koga

someone’s been watching naruto

you are so shit at the game. like i’m sorry. no one’s good at koga i’m so sorry

how do you have so many skins for one character???

you’re always missing from the point

healers hate you. so does the enemy kinessa.

.

Lex

quit the game /nm

“who mains lex in 2021??? lmao???”

wall hacks, aimbot, and it’s all legal for you as an ability. you are a hacker in a world of puny vanillas. you like it easy so you go for the easy min max character. have fun getting hated

you think he’s hot and press on his loading abilities just so he can scold you and you can hear him being mad at you

*bonk* go to horny jail

.

Lian

"she could step on me”

you used to main some sort of healer but switched over when you got sick of everyone being needy

you can hold a point all on your own for a really really long time but the moment your team gets there you start flunking

you wish you had more skins for her

you don’t

.

Maeve

so imagine this. it was like 2018 and you were just chilling playing the game. you kept getting killed by maeve. in every game. she was in every game you went to and she kept killing you over and over and over again. you got frustrated, snapped, and bought her to see if you could do the same to others. you are now the maeve in every game. the cycle repeats.

your whole team doubts you but then you casually get a quad kill and they just sort of look away

you die a total of two times each round and 99% of the time it’s because you go too fast and fall off the map

you repeat everything she says in her accent because you think it’s cute

“welcome to ze meant streets, kitten!” “can you shut the fuck up” “i hate to cut and run, he-he!”

.

Makoa

you have the plushie skin or the beta skin, otherwise you don’t main and only play casually stop lying to yourself

“attack turtle go brrr”

you’re really good if you get paired with a good healer

otherwise you’re useless

you wish you could get better teammates because you could really thrive with an organized group. but on paladins you won’t get that, i’m sorry-

.

Mal’Damba

i always forget this guy is even in the game

you’re definitely under 6 foot IRL

you have an older sibling you always fight with

you’d love to have a snake irl

you’re really chill outside of the game, but when playing you hella rage

.

Moji

you are so precious

but also such a little shit

you annoy me but i also want to give you a hug

“let’s go guys!! to the point!! wheee!!”

please never change but also get out of my sight

.

Octavia

you always main the new character until the new person drops

somehow always have enough credits to buy the new champion whenever they come out

you don’t like having a stable main cuz you get bored

you like hanging out at the training rage

hate siege and love team death match, you like your games quick

.

Pip

you are the worst and best thing to ever happen to this game

you only pick him to heal yourself and hardly ever heal your team

no one notices you there until you ult

then you get focused

honestly you just seem like you wanna do your thing and i can respect that

.

Raum

you probably go to therapy or desperately need it

“BIG MAN BIG. HE IS BIG. BRRRR”

you always love the demons in media

you like being in charge of the team and wreck the point any time you are there, you like fighting on your own but having a healer nearby is nice too

you probably have daddy issues

.

Ruckus

you think ruckus’ and bolt’s dynamic is cool and that’s one of the main reasons you started playing him

he’s the only tank you can play

you used to main either inara or ying at some point but chose violence instead

really short irl. you physically relate to ruckus and spiritually to bolt.

“funny goblin man :)”

.

Seris

certified girlboss

you can hold an objective all on your own or heal your whole team no problem. either way you are SLAYING

“alright. who’s ass am i kicking today?”

mum energy is inferior to inara but still kind of there

i’m like 50% sure you have a foot fetish

.

Sha Lin

*pointing and chanting* incel, incel, ince-

whether that’s about you or the character you can decide

you like minecraft bedwars on the side

“if i don’t get this headshot i am literally going to spontaneously combust”

really useful when there’s no other long distance people - otherwise a nuisance

.

Skye

AWOOGA *jaw drops to ground, eyes roll out of head* BOOBA BOOBA BOOBA

you bought her for the tiddies, didn’t you?

she’s actually really satisfying to play once you get the hang of her, but can be real tough on rough days

you need a break i think - maybe play some other game for a bit?

*casually gets team kill with ult*

.

Strix

you own at least one pretty knife

you played him when he was unlocked on rotation, fell in love, and spent a whole evening collecting credits to buy him fully

“haha bird man”

i’ve said what i said about snipers. if you’re actually good at him you are hiding a body somewhere. i fear you.

why does everyone ship him with viktor????

.

Talus

little furry child

he reminds me of tommyinnit because he is small and annoying

if you play him you are tall and intimidating 

i’m friends with a tall scary talus main

i can’t say bad things please spare me

.

Terminus

you always ult at the worst time and just get killed again 5 seconds after

“hey losers watch this” *goes on the point, dies, revives, kills one person and dies again*

you’re only a good tank if you cooperate

you don’t

on your own you’re a pretty good player

.

Tiberius

*sigh*

you think the cat is hot, don’t you?

“his accent is kinda cute tho hehe”

you saw that one ending scene in zootopia with the dancing tigers and it CHANGED you

you are probably a furry. if not your awakening is coming. be ready.

.

Torvald

you’ve been playing this game for too long

you’ve seen skins rise and fall. you’ve seen nerfs and buffs. you’ve seen reworks and remakes. you are ancient. older than the dragons and wiser than makoa. respect.

people see you on the opposing team and get really annoyed

“the point is really crowded, we can’t move in” “don’t worry guys, my ult is charged up”

you’re really good at all the characters but you like this guy a lot because you think he’s funky fresh

.

Tyra

you’re either new to the game or have been playing for too long

either way you can KICK ASS but you need to keep behind your team to do the most damage

flanks are the bane of you, especially the fast jumpy ones

you really want one of the cooler skins but you can only ever get the basic ones. such is the curse of maining one of the OG characters.

“bite me”

.

Viktor

you are level 100+ guaranteed, and everyone fears you

“oh shit they got a victor. flank focus him”

you probably play COD and CS:GO normally and wanted to go with something familiar and easy. your skill from the other more advanced games DWARFS everyone else

but why are you playing “guy with gun 132″ in a game with magical elves and fairies. like come on bro.

you don’t have any in-game friends because paladins is your guilty pleasure game you would never admit to

.

Vivian

“step on me” syndrome cranked up to 100%

this woman could spit on you and you’d still respect her more than your own mother. good for you

“i’m not a simp. i’m just tier 3 subbed to pokimane ironically”

you sweat the game hardcore. former victor main or he’s your secondary.

you’ve got her on level 50+ at least

.

Vora

like the maeve mains but somehow worse

bought her out of spite or played her while she was on rotation, now here you are grinding credits for her a day after she became unavailable

honestly you’re really good at the game i have nothing else to say

you enjoy the newer characters more than the OGs - you’re either a former vivian or lian main

you miss the play of the game feature in the game because you’d get all of them with this girl

.

Willo

you seem like the moji mains at first but show your true colors soon after

“fuck you” x50

you are a trash talker on max overdrive. you need to sit down, do some breathing exercises and have a drink.

you hate your own team more than the opposing guys

when you see a willow on the opposing team you make it your sole goal to eliminate her as many times as humanely possible

.

Yagorath

i bet you didn’t know she was canonically female until you read this

you don’t like sweating too much so you pick the tank that leaves you heavily relying on your healers and damages

you can hold a point really well so you like siege and onslaught

“are vora and yagorath connected in the lore somehow and do i really care?”

you have a friend who you always party up with to be your healer, otherwise you might switch to another character

.

Ying

“tanks love me, flanks hate me”

you are too powerful. literally. how are you so strong

you’ve mastered the most difficult healer in the game. the others are really easy for you to play but you have trouble with seris

motivate your team a lot but start shading and trash talking if they don’t cooperate

you’ll gladly play someone else for a long while and like taking breaks from her

.

Zhin

this is your first main after switching over from overwatch. we can smell it on you.

you’re really annoyed with his personality and voice lines but the character is too good to play for you to pass him up for that. you respond to his voice lines aloud very aggressively to let him know he’s an ass

“YES ZHIN HEALERS AREN’T USELESS YOU SELFISH PRICK”

you try your best but you’re not a great team player

infinite trips on a good day, die repeatedly without kills on a bad one and you switch over to vora or skye for a bit.

.

this took me hours to write out pls leave reblog and note thanks uwu

[irgmugurg]

Belphie's Music Taste

Mammon's Music Taste

Asmodeus's Music Taste

Belphie listening to lofi songs is simultaneously the cutest and funniest thing that I’ve ever heard.

Aw is the bratty little cowboy gonna listen to windchimes and sparkles. Yes. Yes, he is.

Aight hear me out. JUST LISTEN

Belphie listening to country music.

HE HAS THE COWBOY AESTHETIC ALREADY MIGHT AS WELL GO ALL THE WAY.

He’d start it as a joke but he’d gradually love falling asleep to the slow drawl of the music.

he thinks their super cheesy but proceeds to press play

"ugh more country music?" *clicks play*

Or even listening to those sad country army songs about being soldiers and missing your family

He 100% relates these songs to Lilith and having to fight for/against the celestial realm.

AT SOME POINT he’s layed with Beel and they both cried about country music/Lilith (think If Your Reading This and a bunch more by Tim McGraw, Arlington, and Your Gonna Miss This by Trace Adkins)

Butterfly Kisses by Bob Carlise. FUCK. I’M GOING TO CRY.

I know some of these songs are from the point of view of a daughter and their dad but Belphie can’t help but think of being able to grow up and show Lilith how the world has changed.

Doesn’t even care that most of country songs are religion-based and yeah sometimes he gets so angry at Father for what he took from him but he remembers that now Lilith is up there still. Doesn’t make it hurt any less though.

Wishes he could still hold her, see her grow up, him and beel being her best men at her wedding, connecting the human and celestial realm

listens to circus songs and fucking cries

NICKELBACK. (he isn’t THAT bad okay, sometimes his songs SLAP) ((lullaby,,,belphie relates this song to his feelings of overwhelming anger in the attic)

Falling asleep holding each others hands, reminiscing about Lilith and the times they had together.

Mammon and satan, just to piss him off, played the wild west theme songs (The Good The Bad The Ugly theme) whenever he walked in a room and he would go demon mode (only for them to laugh harder, cowboy looking ass)

gets embarrassed if you hear him listening to country music

changes the song quickly, he can't have people knowing he genuinely likes it

listened to If I Die Young once and thought of Lilith

proceeded to block all mentions of this song

Anyway LOFI MUSIC.

He loves how soft and sweet it is even though it doesn’t match his “style”.

This motherfucker can be berated by Lucifer and he’ll put on headphones and just watch Lucifer scream at him and only hear soft Lofi music.

Lofi hip hop, Jazz, pop. He does not discriminate.

Very often gets the beats and small portions of the lyrics stuck in his head.

LOVES Shiloh Dynasty and all the remixes

But that is not the only thing that Belphie listens to. Oh no, definitely not.

Loves nightcore. Alvin and the Chipmunks who?

Alternatively likes listening to slowed down songs

Listens to the front bottoms and thinks about punching lucifer in his face

OUCH! By Matt Watson

HE LISTENS TO SCREAMO AND EMO MUSIC.

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE, SLEEPING WITH SIRENS, PIERCE THE VEIL.

Emo headass.

Is very much stuck in the 2010s (probably the last era he was able to listen to before getting locked in the attic and since getting out has been stuck there) and if MC introduces him to any more then even 2020 music.

It’s the emotions that he relates so heavily to but it also helps him stay awake to do tasks.

His turn to do dishes? Unearthly screaming comes from the kitchen. Please don’t worry he is just vibing.

He has the screamo voice. He doesn’t use it often because I don’t see Belphie as someone to sing along, more bopping to the music and swaying, MAYBE mumbling under his breath but nothing more.

Will do it with Lucifer around just to fuck with him

Why is the thought of Belphie on stage, smudged mascara, black leather clothes and screaming on the top of his lungs hot????

would 100% let you dress him up in that outfit but acts like he doesn't like it

Stop *bonk* being *bonk* a *bonk* belphie *bonk* simp *bonk*

He doesn’t like making playlists because its so much work so if he puts on Lofi to go to sleep to and he will stay sleeping on wild screamo music.

Listens to it most in the attic because that’s where a FUCKTON of his resentment/rebellious vibes come from and because he doesn’t want to bother Beel while they are sleeping.

Asshole probably doesn’t use his headphones anywhere else tho.

Asmodeus and Mammon don’t understand him but they love him nonetheless.

*demonic screeching* “Okay sweetie don’t forget about the student council meeting later today <3”

If Mammon vibes with a song he WILL scream along, incoherently though because he doesn’t know the lyrics.

Beel just kinda sits there. Doesn’t get it either but loves seeing Belphie look so at peace.

Old man lucifer “is that what you kids listen to today?” (but can he talk?? really?? listening to cursed records bc iTs InTeReStInG)

Satan gets it the most out of anyone else. When they have Anti Lucifer-League meetings Belphegor puts on the most rebellious, and relatable (for their cause) at least, songs and they both scream the lyrics.

he isn't shy showing these songs to you but has once attempted to show off his emo scream please don't laugh at him

OKAY BUT CLEANING UP THE LIVING ROOM WITH BELPHIE WHILE YOU BOTH SCREAM IS SO CUTE

Trophy Father’s Son by Sleeping With Sirens, Can You Feel My Heart, Keep Myself Alive, Sleepwalking by Bring Me The Horizon, Last Resort by Papa Roach, A LOT OF LINKIN PARK, Monster by Skillet, and OF COURSE Bring Me To Life by Evanescence

He probably wouldn't listen to wolf in sheeps clothing but *pointing* THATS HIM

Belphie has spent time crying over these songs. On late nights when he can’t sleep he cries about how he thinks Lucifer doesn’t love him and blames him for Lilith’s death. How MC must really hate him for how he’s acted. How different he is from his brother’s. (part of why he won’t listen to it in front of Beel)

please hold him and promise him that you don't hate him

He also LOOOOOVVES classical music but due to his history with it will not listen to it.

Aka how he used to lay on lucifer’s lap while he plays lullabies for him.

If Lucifer is playing classical music in the area tho? He can’t help but suddenly feel really sleepy. And no he didn’t fall asleep close enough to hear Lucifer scribble away on his paperwork (Lucifer knows he does and always has a blanket ready for when this happens).

lay with him and if you listen very carefully you can hear him mumbling the lyrics under his breath as he runs his fingers through your hair

One of my biggest things about belphie is that he is really smart even though he doesn’t like to put in the effort.

He likes to dissect these songs (typically passing thoughts and really paying attention, he won’t put to much effort into it) and get into them and it backfires because that means he’s really listening to these lyrics and it hits him THAT much harder. (STICKING LITTLE WHITE FLOWERS ALL UP IN HER HAAAAAIIRRRR)

End Note: Belphie doesn't have the largest music selection but the songs he listen to either help him sleep or makes him get all up in his feelings (bc he is emotionally stunted and its the only way he can cry).

[nishiisenpai]

somebody to someone - tsukishima kei x reader

REQUEST: “ Id love to request a Tsuki x Reader!! Maybe just a angsty fluff of sorts where there has been a lot of drama within their relationship? Like Tsuki’s friend (Could be yams or some1 else) kinda always had a crush on the reader, and maybe at one point one of the readers friends also had a crush on Tsuki, but it’s pretty obvious that they like each other instead. Maybe at the end Tsuki got hurt in a practice match or whatever, and the reader gets super worried- so she goes down to the nurses office to check on Tsuki and like seeing him even the slightest bit hurt causes her to just poor out all her feelings and tell him that she loves him? And happy ending pls where he reciprocates? Tysm 🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️✨✨ - @i-smoke-chapstick “

A/N: it has come to my attention that majority of the people visiting my page are here for tsukishima angst. honestly i vibe with that. so i hope i didn’t disappoint in this request, and let’s start shall we? ;)

oh and side note, i didn’t really know how to add in drama without it being cliche, yk? i am trying not to be cliche with my work, but if it happens, it happens.

also i had to rewatch the third season where tsukishima got hurt, so that it would be my reference. (hurt me deadass.)

lastly- i apologize this took so long to be made, school (my science teacher) has been really affecting my mental health badly for the past week so i wasn’t able to create this to the best of my abilities, but i hope that you share and love this as much as you do with my previous works!

-

WARNING: Angst but with a fluff ending! Also crack cause why not?

WHO: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

ADDITIONAL INFO: F/N means friend’s name.

-

You’ve always been close with Tsukishima. Quite literally, you both were neighbours. Yamaguchi joined in later after Tsukki stood up for him against those childhood bullies. Plus you on the side intimidating them getting ready to beat the shizzles out of them though Tsukishima dragged your ass back home.

“Earth to Y/N?” Tsukishima’s hand waved in front of your dazed face.

“Tsukki, she’s not breathing,” Yamaguchi had exclaimed. Tsukishima looked at you before bonking you on the head.

“Ow, you lil bitch.” you tsked rubbing your head.

“Yamaguchi got worried, idiot.” Tsukishima replied back and you looked at Yamaguchi who sighed.

“Aww, my pretty baby, were you worried about me~” You wrapped an arm around the back of his neck to bring him down, squishing your cheeks with his and rubbing his hair.

“You’re gonna make him combust.” Tsukishima said with an irritated voice.

“I-it’s fine, Tsukki.” Yams waved him off and Tsukishima rolled his eyes.

“I was just complimenting him...” you said with a pout before fixing Yamaguchi’s hair and giving him a small smile.

“Oh hey guys!” your friend’s head popped out of the classroom.

“Hey,” you waved at them.

“Oh, hey F/N,” Tsukishima said.

“Hey, Tsukishima! ” your friend said giving him a small smile. You noticed them placing a hand on his upper arm as you awkwardly stood there with Yamaguchi.

Your friend and Tsukishima continued talking in the hallway, discussing with each other. You watched them as they continued talking and ignored both you and Yamaguchi. It hurt your heart a little knowing that he wasn’t going to be paying you the same amount of attention that he does for them.

“Do you wanna leave to head to class first?” you tugged at Yamaguchi’s sleeve to whisper in his ear.

“Sure,” he nodded.

“Sorry to interrupt you two, but Yamaguchi and I are going to leave first,” you indicated.

“I’ll see you later Tsukki.” Yams said waving at him and Tsukishima sent a nod of approval before his focus was back onto your friend.

“Do you have practice after school?” you asked Yamaguchi while walking to class.

“Yeah, why are you asking?”

“Oh, I was just wondering if you, and Tsukki wanted to hang out later today.”

“I should be free after practice. I’ll ask Tsukki about it later.”

“Okie dokie! I should head in now, thanks for walking me to class, Yamaguchi.” you said giving him a smile and a small little wave.

“B-bye, Y/N! See you later!” he waved back with a shy smile.

-

“Hey, Y/N, do you like anyone at the moment?” your friend asked as she touched up her lip tint in front of the mirror.

“Uh, no- how about you?” you lied as a way to cover up your hidden feelings for him.

“Yeah...”

“Oh really, who is it?”

“Tsukishima.” you expression blanked. You zoned out but snapped to reality when your friend waved her hand in front of you.

“A-ah I see. What do you like about him?”

“Well for pointers, he’s tall, he’s also smart, calm and overall he’s very intriguing. He’s also cute and handsome.”

“Woah, that’s... a lot?”

“Right! So can you help me out?”

“How?”

“You’re like good friends with Tsukishima right? How do I make him go on a date with me?”

“Say what?”

“You know, a date.”

“Oh, uhm... Just ask him to help you study some material from class..? I’m pretty sure he has volleyball after school, but I’m sure he’ll help you out..”

“Thank you so much!” she side hugged you before leaving the bathroom.

Ha...Ha... I hope it goes well for her, then...

-

“TSUKISHIMAAAA!” you ran towards his direction to jump onto his back.

“Get off of me woman!” Tsukishima said carrying you.

“Never!” you giggled hanging onto him for dear life. 

“Hey guys- oh, nevermind...” Yamaguchi came in with a smile plastered on his face but slowly turned into a flat line.

“Oi, Yamaguchi, pull her off me will you?” Tsukishima said grunting.

“WAIT- DON’T DO IT- I’ll get off after you answer my question.”

“What is it?”

“Are you free after practice?”

“No I am not. I have to help F/N with studying her material.” 

“Oh yeahhh.” you said getting off of Tsukishima and standing there to face him.

“Why?”

“I was planning on hanging out with Yamaguchi, and you like the good old times, though it seems that both of you have a little study date.” you cheekily said nudging him. thump, thump

“Shut up.”

“We all know it’s true giraffe.” you rolled your eyes smirking. thump, thump

“Whatever you baked bean.”

“A baked be- a BAKED BEAN?” you jumped bonking him on the head causing him to wince in pain.

“Bake bean that, bAKE BEAN THAT.” you landed in front of him staring at Tsukishima with a fiery look. He smirked while scoffing looking into your eyes. 

Something had caused Tsukishima to look away faster than ever as he looked to his side quickly.

“Anyways, I guess I’ll just hang out with Yamaguchi, right?” you turn to him and his body shot up with a smile and pink plastered across his face.

“Y-Yeah!” he gave a smile and you smiled back before clapping.

“Alrighty then! Yams, I’ll be at the park closest to our neighbourhood. See you later!” you said waving at him before turning around. “Oh, and good luck on your date Tsukishima!”

“Thanks...”

Damn it, Y/N. Why does your heart have to beat every time you look at him. You need to stop crushing on him. He doesn’t even like you and is probably interested in F/N. She’s prettier than you, more entertaining and is better than you in general. Just stop this silly crush...

He’ll never like somebody like you.

-

“Boo!”

“AHHH!” You laughed seeing Yamaguchi’s expression.

“Sorry, Yamaguchi~” you said before sitting next to him on the swings.

“It’s okay, Y/N.. So where do you plan to go?”

“Oh, right! Let’s go to the cafe nearby!”

“Sure! Lead the way.” You grabbed ahold of Yamaguchi’s hand before dragging him to the cafe. His face sparked with pink and it made him turn quiet.

“It shouldn’t be far away so we should be there before it closes.” as you turn the corner you recognize the sign and immediately speed up. You both enter the shop examining the place.

“What would you like? I’ll buy it for you.” you smiled looking up to him.

“Are you sure? I can just purchase it for myself.”

“No need to! Take this as a repayment to hanging out with me even though I know you have to study for an upcoming test.”

“H-How did you know?”

“You mentioned it to me a few days ago, so I thought this would help be a breather for you.” 

“Thank you.”

“Now tell me what you would like, so I can order it for you.”

“A vanilla milkshake, please and thank you.”

“Alright! Go find us a seat, I’ll find you later.” before parting ways with Yamaguchi to the register.

“Hi there, what would you like today?”

“May I please get a vanilla shake and your smile cookie?”

“That will be $3.15″ you handed the cashier the money, “Thank you.”

Yamaguchi’s drink soon was made alongside your cookie served on the side. You searched the seats and found Yamaguchi sitting by a window seat near the back.

“One vanilla shake for Mr. Yamaguchi.” you jokingly placed a weird accent.

“Pfttttt, that was so stupid,” Yamaguchi laughed at your horrible accent.

“Oh be quiet.” You sat down munching on your cookie. “How’s volleyball? I heard you guys have a match with Shiratorizawa in two days.” 

“Volleyball has been good. I managed to get my jump floats over the net, and yeah, we got finals against Shiratorizawa.”

“Looks like your practice is paying off. I’m really proud of you, Yamaguchi.” 

“T-Thank you, but I wouldn’t be able to do it without the help of Mr. Makoto.” The small chime at the door rung alerting that someone came in. You glimpsed upwards and saw Tsukishima with F/N. shit.

“I-is something wrong?” Yamaguchi asked wanting to turn his head but you shook your head aggressively.

“Nothing is wrong, not at all.” you smiled keeping your eyes slightly on Tsukishima.

“Hey look it’s Yamaguchi and Y/N!” your friend pointed towards you guys.

“Oh hey guys, what are you doing here?” Yamaguchi said.

“Studying.” Tsukishima plainly spoke.

“We should get seats close by to them right, Tsukishima-kun? So we’ll see you soon, yeah?” your friend touched Tsukishima’s arm dragging him to a table close by.

“Hey, Y/N are you good?” Yamaguchi dragged your attention back to him.

“Uhm, sorry, as I was previously saying, I just know you’re doing really well. It’s a shame I can’t see you in action in person.” you said to Yamaguchi continuing the conversation that was paused.

“P-Please do come!” Yamaguchi exclaimed and you looked confused.

“You know, Tsukishima doesn’t want me at the matches. He says I would be too loud...” you quietly spoke to Yamaguchi.

“Please, Y/N, do this for me? It’s finals and it would be a shame if I didn’t see you in the stands cheering on for us.” Yamaguchi’s bold move of holding hands caught you off guard. They were warm and big. Very welcoming. 

Tsukishima’s eyes trailed over to your hands being held by Yamaguchi - which caused him to clutch onto his pencil a little harder than he should have.

“Because you asked so nicely and cause you’re adorable, I’ll come. But if I don’t see you on the court playing, I would be devastated.” you dramatically spoke before giggling and continuing to chat with Yamaguchi.

It soon turned darker outside, meaning the cafe was closing soon too. Hanging out with Yamaguchi was fun today even though Tsukishima was helping F/N study. thump, thump

“Thank you again, Y/N. It was very nice of you to do this for me.”

“Ahhh stopppp, you needed this. Besides, I am glad you invited me to come watch. I’m very excited and look forward to it!” you said.

“It’s getting pretty late and dark, do you want me to walk you home?” Yamaguchi offered and you looked surprised before smiling and nodding. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tsukishima and F/N.”

“Yeah, see you guys tomorrow! Make sure to walk her home, Tsukishima! You don’t want her to walk alone, do you?” you announced teasing him before exiting the building and turning your smile upside down.

thump. thump.

-

“Shit I’m late- I can already hear them play.” you sped up on walking up the stairs to Karasuno’s stand. You found a spot in the stands near the back. You watched as both teams played and saw Yamaguchi serving but no Tsukishima. You just figured he was in the corner with his other teammates because your vision couldn’t find him from that far.

“GO YAMAGUCHI!!!!!!” you cheered as he served perfectly to the other side of the team. 

“Hey lady, can you quiet down?” a boy with glasses asked. You stared at him in confusion.

“Apologies, but I’m cheering on for my friends and their team. Also, aren’t you supposed to cheer for them too?” you questioned, crossing your arms.

“We aren’t from Karasuno or here to really cheer for either teams.” the boy with glasses spoke.

“Then why are you here...?”

“We’re observing them.”

“D-don’t tell me you’re spying on them.”

“Why yes I am, miss lady.” 

“Oikawa, cut it out.” a boy with a deeper voice beside him said hitting the boy in the glasses.

“Iwa-chan~” Oikawa spoke holding his hurt spot.

“My apologies, he can be troublesome.” Iwa said apologising.

“It’s alright...Uhm, if you don’t mind... Can you tell me where Tsukishima Kei is?”

“Can you describe him?” Iwa asked.

“He’s tall, has glasses, blonde and a real b- I mean butt.” you smiled covering up your slip.

“Oh his hand got injured and he was bleeding-” 

“Okay thanks,” that was all it took for you to go down the stairs before turning to the exit and dashing down the stairs to the infirmary.

“Damn it, Tsukishima.” you ran trying to find the infirmary. That’s when you saw Yachi stand outside talking with Akiteru.

“Yachi! Akiteru!” you spoke up and they turned around.

“Oh hey, Y/N. How are you-” they both spoke but you cut them off.

“Where’s Tsukishima?” you asked in a panic.

“He’s inside being treated.”

“What happened?”

“He went for a block against one of the players and got his hand injured.”

“Is it alright for me to go inside to check up on him?” you asked desperately.

“Sure. I think he needs you right now.”

“Thank you.” As you knocked on the door and heard a small “come in”.

“Oh hey, Y/N-”

“I’m so sorry I’m late, but are you okay? I heard your hand got treated, but still-” you cupped his face wearing a worried expression looking deeply into his eyes.

“I-I’m fine, Y/N...”

“No you’re not. Look at your hand,”

“I said I’m fine, Y/N.”

“Fine?!?!? Tsukishima! Your hand was bleeding- are you kidding me? You can’t just say you’re fine after your hand was bleeding! Kei, I am so worried for you and it hurts my heart to see you like this. I just- I can’t seem to see you hurt, cause then I want to cry and there’s nothing I can do about it. Like fuck- is this what feelings do to you? I just love you so much and it pains me seeing you down- oh no...” you rumbled on and gasped covering your mouth quickly realizing what came out of your mouth.

“W-wait what?” Tsukishima’s eyes widened hearing that.

“I-it’s nothing, you didn’t hear anything.”

“No. I heard something.” He stood up towering over you. 

“No, you did not.”

“Something about having feelings for me?” he smirked looking down at you. Your face flushed pink.

“O-okay, maybe I do! So what? It’s not like you have feelings for me! I know they’re all for F/N and not me! I mean come on! I’m only your friend, and there is nothing I can do about it! F/N is so much more confident, lively, bubbly, pretty and an overall good if not amazing person! Of course you would have fallen for her! She’s in your league and I’m not! I just wanted to be somebody to someone already! And that someone is you, but I’m here looking like a complete-” the feeling of Tsukishima’s lips pressed against your forehead caused you to stop your sentence to look up at him.

“A complete unique individual that I somehow managed to fall for not only because of their looks or how they act, but for what they do and dedicate their time and effort to. Yes I have fallen for someone but that someone isn’t F/N. It’s you, Y/N.” Tsukishima said looking down at you with soft eyes that were filled with stars. His expression was soft and caring. You noticed how close your faces were when you saw how clear his honey like eyes shined under the bright lights.

“You are insanely beautiful, and someone I treasure so much. You’ve been with me since day one and I can not thank you enough for being there with me. I appreciate you so much but I don’t know how to physically show you all these emotions I pent up and hidden from you. Y/N, you should never look down on yourself like that. Besides, what’s so fun of having something in my league when I can go for something bigger?” Tsukishima wrapped his free arm around your waist to pull you in closer to him. Bodies pressed together and absorbing his heat.

“You’re not playing with me... Are you?” you asked in concern.

Tsukishima took his fragile hand to place it behind your head to press against his chest where his heart was. You heard the fast pace rhythm of his heart beating loudly against his ribcage. Tears slowly slid down your cheeks out of happiness.

“Now do you believe me?” he asked with a small smile. You nodded your head and hugged him to hide your blushing face and dried up tears.

“I-I hate you.”

“Mhm, sure you do.”

“D-Don’t you have a match to attend back to???”

“You’re right,” He gave you a quick kiss on the lips before heading towards the door, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” you sent a smile to him before he smiled back and left the infirmary with a whole different mindset.

The mindset where his thoughts were no longer clouded with jealousy or doubt, but with the burning passion for volleyball, a plan to defeat Shiratorizawa and now you.

-

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Part Fifty- Three

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX, LI, LII

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

Lev put his hands on his hips. Cameron and Ash had done most of the heavy lifting, and Mami and Cameron had gotten the food ready, so Lev really hadn’t done much, but it’d turned out nice, and in the end that was all Lev could ask for, really. They had indeed gone with an ocean theme, to match the nursery, and since despite Lev’s efforts to help in some way or another, Cameron had been in charge of everything and took little input, it was all rather tasteful.

Lev fussed with the placement of the snacks, even though he knew Cameron was going to come along behind him and fix it again. He felt useless, especially with Ash reminding him to not push himself.

As expected, Cameron appeared, smacking Lev’s hand away. “Knock it off,” Cameron reprimanded. “The others should be arriving soon.”

“Is Biela coming?” Lev asked. They’d sent an invite; it’d’ve been rude to not. To Lev’s knowledge, she hadn’t responded.

“Likely not. She’ll probably send Caius in her stead.”

“Mm.” Lev had liked Caius, the one time he’d met him. He was pretty. And seemed kind. Friendly, at the very least.

Cameron lifted a brow, and grabbed Lev’s hand when Lev reached to adjust a platter of pastries. “If you don’t leave it alone, I’ll make you go baby sit Nik.”

Lev opened his mouth to argue, but Nik himself had appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. “What’s the party for?” the pregnant omega mumbled.

“You,” Lev grumbled, making his way over to Nik. At least he was allowed to fuss over Nik, and he did so with a tiny spark of pleasure, pressing a kiss to Nik’s cheek and brushing his green and black hair from his eyes. “You’re not supposed to be awake yet. It was gonna be a surprise.”

Nik frowned sleepily at Lev. “I had to pee,” Nik complained bitterly.

“We’ve been planning for a week,” Lev informed him, before brushing his cheek lightly. “Oh well. Now I don’t have to figure out a way to get you dressed.”

“Planning what for a week?” Nik muttered. “My birthday isn't until next week.” He pulled a face. “And I can’t even get drunk.”

“Your baby shower,” Lev said, guiltily tucking away Nik’s birthday to worry about later.

“My what?”

Lev sighed, and started herding Nik out the door. He could practically feel Cameron rolling his eyes at him. “Your baby shower. Did you think I would let you get away without one?”

Nik shrugged. “I didn’t even think about it.”

With another sigh, Lev slid his arm around Nik’s waist. “I wasn’t going to not give you one. We invited your brothers. Both of them. You deserve it.”

Nik made a face at him.

“Come on. Let's get dressed,” Lev said, bonking his shoulder with Nik’s.

---

Nik let Lev lead him back to the bedroom to get clothes. He hadn't really thought much about clothes lately and had been wearing sweats for the most part.

He thumbed through a few pairs of jeans and frowned. "None of these are going to fit, are they?"

"...Cameron went shopping."

Nik squinted and looked through his jeans once more. He pulled a pair out and stretched. "When did he do this?" Nik frowned at the alien jeans with their stretchy fabric in horror before shrugging it off and grabbing a loose black shirt to go with it.

Lev had no answer other than his own shrug and took it at face value. The idea of Cameron in a maternity store was too hilarious a thought to stay irritable at it.

Nik worked at getting himself slowly dressed. Without any coffee in his system, he was fighting the urge to just go back to bed. Though luckily enough for him, he wasn't showing nearly as much as what he had seen on the internet with people pregnant the same length as he.

"Seems like a pretty big party for like seven people." Nik said. He rubbed his eyes, pulling the last bit of sleepiness away. "Unless you decided to invite his royal prickliness too."

"Well I assume Bay is coming. Celeste too; they'll bring the babies," Lev said. "We also invited Biela too- though we don't think she'll come."

"I should hope not. I might do something hormonal like poison her sparkly punch, or something."

"Nikolas."

"Hm?" Nik started for the doorway, expecting Lev to follow him back to where he was sure the festivities would eventually begin.

By the time they got there, Bay and Nate had already arrived with Lucas sitting contently on Bay's hip chewing on a teething toy. And their boy scout was promptly hovering behind them.

"Silas," Nik said. "Didn't think you'd be here. Unless you're here because of Lev, of course."

Silas' only response was to flip him off, though it was short lived by Nate smacking him upside the head hard enough Nik heard Silas' neck pop. Nate gave Silas a dirty warning look.

Nik snorted. "Need to learn new tricks."

"Hi Silas," Lev said, from Nik’s side.

Silas gave a disgruntled, "Hey Lev."

Nate looked pleased at Silas' newfound self restraint. "The party looks great, Nik."

"I know, I did great," he said, lying through his teeth. Nik smooshed Levs face away when Lev pinched his hip. "My taste: impeccable."

Nate rose a singular groomed brow. "Oh I'm sure." He looked to Lev. "It looks great, Lev."

Already Lev had glued himself back to Nik’s side. He looked a little put out as he said honestly, “Most of the praise should go to Cameron and Ash and Mami. I wasn’t allowed to do much.”

"Well next time don't die," Ash said, appearing back in the doorway. "That way you'll actually be able to do some of the heavy lifting."

Nik frowned deeply at him, especially once Lev froze next to him and looked uncomfortable.

Ash looked perfectly unfazed.

Mami appeared a heartbeat later, to which Nate instantly perked up somehow even more. Though her eyes were trained on the well behaved six month old in Bay's arms.

The tiny woman nearly flew across the room to get to him, only for Bay to stare her down and refuse to relinquish the baby. "No."

Nate instantly jumped in. "He's still, ah, getting used to letting people hold Lucas," he said, quickly. "I can get Eden for you, if you like?"

Nik's hand flew over his mouth at the mirrored glare coming from both Mami and Bay. She sized Bay up, clearly deciding if it's worth it or not to challenge both her king and the omega that carried the partly legless bundle of joy. Bay's eyes narrowed. "I said no."

She huffed and tore her attention back to Nate who gave her a warm hug, though she was absolutely miniscule compared to Nate's height of six-two. When she pulled back, Nate went to disappear, presumably to find the little terror most likely taking a nap.

When he came back, Nate not only had Eden crawling all over him, he also had Adrien and his wife in tow. Neither of them had particularly warm or friendly looks on their faces, though that was usually par for the course for Adrien and Dyaana.

"Hello," Lev offered.

Dyaana eyed Lev, and gave him a slight smile whereas Adrien looked halfway in pain and just nodded once before coming to give Nik a hug.

Lev wisely removed himself from Niks waist before he got crushed by pure muscle. When Adrien pulled apart, Nik said, "didn't think you'd step foot in Demon Territory."

"The things you do for family," Adrien deadpanned.

Nik only grinned.

"Hey where's your clone?"

"Babysitter," Adrien said. "I'd rather not risk my two year old getting eaten by your boyfriend."

"Hey, Cameron doesn't eat infants. If he had, he would have eaten Eden," Nik said. "She's far more appealing as a meal than Mathias."

Adrien's only response to that was to roll his eyes. At that Lev decided to usher Nik to an armchair. "I am not an invalid, Lev," he said, plopping down anyways.

Lev perched on the armrest and kissed the top of Nik's hair. "I know dear."

When Adrien snorted, Nik threw him a poisonous glare. "Oh shut up."

Eden was still screeching happily in Mami's arms, getting all the attention she wanted, even though she was trying to latch her tiny teeth in Mami's shoulder. Mami easily avoided it by giving her a toy worthy of her teeth.

It was another twenty minutes before Celeste arrived. The last time he saw the witch she was about to pop. But judging by the fussy newborn in her arms, that was no longer the case. She came over to offer Nik a hug, and to show off her tiny pale baby. "We named him Dakota," she informed them.

Lev instantly cooed over him. "He’s so cute," Lev said. "Can I hold him?"

Ash found his way over to butt his nose in like he usually did. He squinted at Lev, but Celeste was already moving to hand him over. "Of course. Watch his head?"

"I know," he assured.

"Wait," Nik said, "Do you know that Ash is staying here…?"

"Yes she does," Ash said, "And she also is staying here. They both are."

Nik's brows shot up. "Is Cameron aware of this?"

Ash lifted a shoulder. "I told him."

"You 'told' him," Nik echoed.

"Dunno what you expected. I have a wife and a kid that I need to be with and I have a stubborn friend who refuses to listen to me. I told you I'm making myself everyone's problem."

Celeste looked pained. But Lev seemed perfectly blissed out; he hadn't even looked up from the fussy baby in his arms. "I don't think I'll mind having them here." He looked up at Celeste. "You've always been nice."

She gave him a tired smile. "I certainly try." She cut Ash a look. "Some people make it difficult sometimes."

Ash folded his arms. "If they don't want me to be difficult, maybe they should try to listen to me for once."

Celeste rolled her eyes but looked back to Nik. "I'm very happy for all of you. I'll help however I can."

Lev’s focus was already trained back on Dakota. Nik squirmed a little. "Thanks, I guess."

She just squeezed his hand.

---

Cyrus lit the last candle and shook out the match. He looked over at Darius as he settled on the bed. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea is this?” he asked drily.

Darius thought on that for a moment. “Probably a seven point two.”

After giving a small sigh, Cyrus laid back on the bed. “Better than I ten, I suppose.”

When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer lying on his bed. He wasn’t even in his own house anymore. The walls around him were all earthy tones, the green accents only catching his eye briefly before he settled on Asmi themself.

The god was tall, their dark skin a deeper brown than his own, and bright blue eyes that pinned him in place. After a moment where he froze -afraid, if he was willing to admit it - he dipped his head respectfully. When he looked at them again, he noted that they were still seated in their chair, face thin and tight, bags under their eyes, though they kept their chin high.

“Am I right in assuming that Darius explained what’s going on?” Cyrus ventured.

"You poisoned me once and now you want me to give you the tools to be able to do so again?"

Cyrus forced himself to keep his gaze steady. “If I do it right, it shouldn’t this time.”

"Shouldn't have happened the first time," they said flatly. "Necromancy defies balance and you weakened me for an angel who didn't bother communing with me in the first place. You didn't bother communing with me in the first place. And now that you need my help, you finally deign to bother?"

Cyrus inclined his head ever so slightly. “Ignorance is not an excuse, but it’s the only explanation I personally have.” He folded his hands carefully on his knee. “I made a promise. I don’t break them.” Asmi gave him the time he needed to gather his words. “I am sorry. For everything. I’ve never-” He paused again, frustrated by how hard it was to piece together the words. “It’s not an excuse, that I was never taught how to commune with you. Darius had to teach me, and you’re not even his god. But I want to do right by Darius. If nothing else, he’s been kind to me, and kind to everyone. I promised Cameron I would try. This is me trying. I want to make a deal that will work, not flub the spell again.”

They seemed to think on it; to weigh his words carefully. "What kind of deal?" They finally said.

“Same as the one that brought Levant back.” Cyrus considered his words and then amended, “A similar one, at least. Some sort of exchange.”

"And what's stopping you?"

Cyrus shook his head. “I don't want to risk getting the exchange wrong. That’s what released the dark magic into the earth in the first place. The spell unravelled, and I won’t let that happen again. But I won’t sacrifice Cameron Luain for this spell. It makes both this one and the one that brought Levant back completely pointless.”

Asmi nodded slowly and leaned back in their chair, blue eyes narrowed in thought. "Pick your sacrifice one last time and I will cover the remaining sacrifice to your spell. I warn you, the price will be heavy and I am not so easy to forgive the disruption you have caused me. Make sure this is worth it before you once again defy me."

Cyrus nodded slowly. “Thank you,” he said softly. When Asmi didn’t reply, Cyrus added, “If it’s not arrogant of me to ask... I’d like to talk to you again.” He cocked his head ever so slightly. “I know nothing of you, as my god or as a god in general. I’d like to fill in the gaps my education has.”

"It's not arrogant," they said. "It's what's expected of you. So yes, you may. There's plenty you need to get caught up on."

Cyrus limited himself to a small smile. “Then I look forward to speaking to you in the future,” he said politely. “Thank you, again.”

Rather than reply, they gave a tired flick of their wrist.

Cyrus blinked his eyes open to see his own ceiling. Sorin was sprawled against his side, purring as he kneaded his claws gently in Cyrus’ arm. Cyrus rolled his head until he could find Darius. “I think I got permission. I need to call Cameron.”

---

The party had been well underway when Cameron stepped out of the room. He slipped into his office several hallways down before his phone started to buzz. He didn't let it finish its first ring before answering. "Are you ready, then?"

“Sort of.” Cyrus hesitated. “I spoke with Asmi. They’ve promised as long as someone is sacrificed, they’ll take care of the rest, rather than risk the spell failing. I just don’t have anyone to sacrifice, to my knowledge.”

"Well lucky for you," Cameron said, "I currently have a spineless traitor rotting in my basement. Will that appease your morals?"

“A traitor?” Cyrus pressed mildly.

"A person who betrays a friend, country or a principle," Cameron replied, matching his tone. "A traitor."

“How did he betray you?”

"Well now, that's my business, now isn't it?"

There was a long pause, and then, “Did they kill anyone?”

"He's my employee."

The sigh the witch gave was audible through the phone even if Cameron hadn’t been a demon. “Fine. I’ve got a few things to pull together but I’m mostly ready, whenever you are.”

Cameron promptly hung up his phone and smoothed out his suit. He gave himself five heartbeats to settle before joining the festivities.

Caius had finally arrived, with many gifts in tow, despite it being demonic custom to not celebrate an infant until after its birth. Adapting to Nik’s angelic ancestry, he imagined. Cameron hadn't bothered saying as much when Lev suggested a baby-shower. If that was what the angel thought Nik needed, then he would provide.

Nik instantly eyed him from where he was, brows rose in question, but Cameron went to turn his focus to the Crown Prince currently placing the gifts along the table. "You seem to be in a rather generous mood, my prince," Cameron observed.

Caius flashed him a dazzling smile. "Why you make it sound like I'm not always in a giving mood, my loyal subject."

"I imagined a massacre would dampen your rather optimistic spirits."

Grief flickered in Caius' blue eyes. "All the more reason to celebrate a new life."

"Hm."

"I brought you all gifts," Caius said, with an echo of cheerfulness. "Including one for him."

"Much thanks." Cameron looked Nik's way to see him talking animatedly with Ash and Lev and Nate. He seemed to have been brought to a better mood with the sole focus on him. "It's always an honor to receive the eye of the crown."

Caius snorted at Cameron’s ingrained court-speak, but said nothing of it. Merely squeezed his shoulder before disappearing back into the party to give gifts to their respective recipients.

---

Admittedly, after so many months of solitude or just Cameron and Nik for company, the party was a little overwhelming. He drew comfort from the fact that Nik was right there, and Cameron lingered on the edges of the party being Cameron.

The fact that Caius was very friendly helped, though. Lev barely knew the man, but he was pretty and his smile seemed both genuine and calm. He laughed easily and didn’t seem bothered by the amount of angels in the room with him, despite being the Crown Prince of demonic territory.

At some point during the festivities, Caius pulled Lev aside, though. Lev glanced back at Nik, but let Caius with only a flustered, “Okay.”

“I got you something,” Caius said, flashing him another smile that definitely made Lev flush a little.

“Nik’s the one who’s pregnant,” Lev blurted. He flushed deeper, and then said quickly, “I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just Nik’s day, I wasn’t expecting anything.”

“I got everyone a present,” Caius said easily, unbothered.

Lev blinked down at the box, confusion at why it looked very much like a ring box catching him off guard. The brief glance up at the prince told him he was very amused, and Lev had to wonder if he was a telepath like Biela. When he opened it, though, a locket was nestled inside.

“Oh,” Lev said, picking it up gently. He thumbed it open to find a picture of Cameron, Nik, and Eden each in its own little section. “Oh.”

“Were you expecting an engagement ring?” Caius asked.

“Oh,” Lev spluttered. “No, not expected, I-” He gestured helplessly at the box, flushed deeply. “I love it, really.” He ran his finger over the picture of Nik, knowing his face was softening as he did so. “It’s perfect.”

Caius said, “Well I’m glad. You’re not an easy person to pinpoint.”

“I don’t want much,” Lev said honestly.

Caius shrugged. “Just the important things.”

Lev let his attention track through the room, hitting on Cameron, Nik, and Eden one by one. “Exactly,” he said softly. He switched his gaze back to Caius, offering him a smile. “Thank you. Truly. I love it.”

Caius winked at him, but before he said anything else, Nik made his way over. He gave Lev a pointed look. “What’s going on over here?” Nik asked. “You look like you’re about to ask his hand in marriage, Levant.”

“No,” Lev promised, tucking into Nik’s side pointedly. “I was just thanking him. He got me a gift. See?” He showed it to Nik with enthusiasm.

Nik kissed his cheek. “It’s very pretty. Where’s my attention?”

A laugh bubbled up in his throat. “You’ve got a whole party. I wasn’t gone long.” He shot Caius an apologetic look.

"Well let me make it up to you," Caius said to Nik. "As you're doing all the heavy lifting, you deserve a gift of your own, yes?"

Nik arched a brow. "I'm literally doing nothing other than being a rotisserie oven."

“Nikolas,” Lev hissed, poking him gently. “Be polite.”

Nik raised his brows but Caius only laughed. "Even still. Not easy. I understand you like music?"

"Something like that, yeah."

Caius' smile widened. "Great! I actually worked with a few different craftsmen and musicians to have something built for you. Excuse me."

When Caius disappeared back to the piles of gifts he had brought, Nik turned back to Lev. "Very pretty isn't he?"

Lev could feel heat rising in his cheeks yet again. “Yes,” Lev said primly. “There’s no need to tease"

"I have never teased you a day in your life," Nik said. "Merely stating an observation."

“You tease me daily,” Lev informed him, but he still smiled at Nik, reaching up to brush Nik’s hair from his eyes. “Every single day, Nikolas. Every day.”

“Are you calling a pregnant omega a liar?”

“Maybe so,” Lev hummed. He kissed the corner of Nik’s mouth. “Maybe so.”

Caius came back with an elegant cedar guitar. The gleaming guitar’s finish was clearly done to bring out the natural colors of the wood. Nik’s eyes trailed over the body of the guitar and rested on the careful mosaic beadwork around the hollow. “That design work is specific to Tullum,” Nik said, vaguely accusatory; though mostly amused. “Are you trying to buy me off?”

Caius seemed unbothered. “Not particularly. Just trying to gift you something you would actually enjoy. I find personal gifts are more memorable.”

“Sure,” Nik said, but he was still moving closer to run his fingers along that delicate beadwork.

“Thank you,” Lev said, since Nik didn’t seem inclined to.

Caius merely winked at him.

Lev blushed, since Nik seemed too interested in his new guitar to be embarrassed. He certainly was interested enough to take it from Caius and strum a few bars. Lev elbowed Nik gently. Nik ignored him, but Caius seemed pleased anyway.

Caius dipped himself into a mini bow. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s Cameron’s turn.”

---

Cameron led the prince back towards his office where they could be alone without prying party guests could interfere. He took the gift meant for Darius and sat it carefully on the desk, and turned back to Caius. “I received a call from the witch who will be performing the spell,” Cameron said. “I figured you would want to be informed.”

Caius slipped his hands smoothly into his pockets. “I would.” Caius cocked his head, eyeing Cameron very carefully. “You have certainly come a long way from the bastard whore I met you as.” There wasn’t any disrespect in his words, merely a statement of observation. “Now a lord in your own right, with your own family.”

“I am merely filling in a role that needed filling,” Cameron said. “Though I am grateful nonetheless.”

“Hm.”

“The resurrection,” Cameron said, pointedly, drawing attention from whatever point Caius was clearly trying to make. “Should be happening within the week.”

Caius gave him a look, but let the insolence slide. “So you have someone lined up to be slaughtered for a sacrifice?”

“Slaughtered is a large word for a demon with a weak spine, your grace.”

Caius lifted a groomed brow. “Is that so?”

“The witch’s morals interfered with choosing a warm body, and luckily enough, I happened to have a traitor rotting in my basement.”

Caius snorted. “Traitor? From the rather loud screaming, I did imagine someone was being tortured in this house.” He tapped his temple. “I’d like to see this traitor.”

With little choice to that matter, Cameron led the prince through the house, down to the basement where Sage was still chained up. Cameron had been keeping him well fed and in peak condition outside of his routine torturing. Sage rolled his head towards them, tiredly, but there was a bit of surprise - and a new found fear- flickering in his eyes when he saw Caius next to him.

Caius eyed him slowly, circling the chair bolted into the floor. The impeccable clothes tailored to Caius’ frame were a stark contrast to the sharp bleakness of the room, though Cameron knew the weight of power a good suit held, and how to weaponize it.

When Caius stopped in front of the chair, he had a small smile gracing his face. “I could hear your thoughts from upstairs,” he said. “Clearly you wanted my attention.”

Sage sucked in a haggard breath, trying to not look at Cameron. “Just make him kill me,” he rasped. “I’ve been here for months-”

“My sister was tortured by angels for months on end,” Caius said, unfazed. “She was whipped and beaten and carved up and she hadn’t broken. She hadn’t begged for death, or whatever pathetic attempt at mercy this is. In fact, the difference is,” he said, “this was rather well deserved. Your treasonous actions against your lord led to the events of millions of children dying, so, if you were to die, it’s going to be for something that is definitely not for your benefit.” Caius leaned forward, just enough to keep the blood from touching him. “Don’t worry, your suffering will soon end.”

Caius leaned back and turned to Cameron. “Do what you need. So long as another innocent isn’t taken from these lands, I couldn’t care less.”

Cameron’s mouth twitched, but he just inclined his head.

---

The day had been tense and heavy for Darius. Between getting everything in line with Asmi and Cyrus, and also not returning to the Manor, knowing Destris was lurking the halls, Darius had decided to spend his time that night playing a small game of fetch with Sorin in his demonic form.

A small ball of paper used a rather small amount of energy, so it was easy to keep up. Around three in the morning, they had been playing the quiet game going for the last few hours after Cyrus retired to bed. Sorin had been kind enough to keep him company while his mate slept without him.

It was then that the front door opened silently. Sorin flicked his ears at Cameron, who promptly ignored him and started his way back through the house. Darius rose to his feet and followed him back, veering around him to get to Cyrus before he did to give the witch a heads up.

He touched Cyrus’ shoulder, in effort to wake him. He blinked sleepily at Darius, eyes flashing gold from the amount of swollen magic Cyrus had building inside him. “I’m assuming Cameron is here?” The amount of pure tired that was in Cyrus’ voice didn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated by Darius.

Cameron walked into the room not even a heartbeat later. “Have I come at a bad time?” He sounded very unsympathetic.

Darius flashed Cyrus an apologetic wince.

All Cyrus said was, “No,” while rising to a sitting position. “Are you here to speak to Darius?”

If he hadn’t been watching Cameron’s every move the last five hundred years, he would have missed the way Cameron’s jaw set. “Yes.”

Cyrus gave the smallest of sighs, but stood up. “I have my supplies in my study.”

Unsurprisingly, Cameron merely turned around and most likely started towards the study. Darius simply waited patiently for Cyrus to get ready.

Cyrus rubbed at his face, stifling a yawn with his wrist as he followed Cameron. His movements were slow and heavy, but he only made his way into the study and began lighting candles while Sorin followed, tail swishing over the ground like a fluffy ginger ribbon.

Cameron stood stiffly out of the way, slender hands in his pockets while he waited, unblinkingly in pure silence. Darius did not need his magic to know that Cameron getting here was like pulling teeth.

Darius could only imagine the weight in his chest he’d be feeling at the idea of Cameron avoiding him to the point he has to force himself to be here- to speak to him.

There was relief in Cyrus’ voice as he began the incantation for Darius to manifest to Cameron. When Cameron’s pale eyes slid to him, unreadable as ever, Darius curled a lock of hair behind his ear, if only to relieve some of his own tension. “You wanted to speak with me?”

Cameron’s lips thinned.

Darius gave him the time to be able to put together the words he needed to patiently. Finally, Cameron fixed his jaw once more and said, “I am assuming you still want to be resurrected?”

“Do you still want me to be resurrected?”

Cameron’s eyes narrowed. “The Prince has gifted me papers of your reinstatement as a citizen of Razya the moment you are alive. As if you had never been dead in the first place.”

A citizen of Razya? Darius hadn’t even been considered a citizen when he was alive. Bastards hold no citizenship, no rights, no protection. He hadn’t even had a home before he had been abducted when he was a child. Merely living on the streets. A pretty child with no home was easy prey.

“That was very kind of the prince.”

“Mm.”

“Is that all you wished to tell me?” Darius asked, after a heavy silence.

“I imagine you’re aware that Nik is pregnant.”

When Darius nodded, Cameron said, “I mated him, a few weeks ago when his father tried to stake a claim on him. I used the Old Laws.”

Darius smiled. “That was kind of you,” he observed. “I’m sure Nik adores you very much. He and his child will be safe with you.” When Cameron rose a brow, Darius tried to not snort. “I will do my best to not upset the dichotomy of the house, Cameron. I have a rather pleasant personality.”

“I can see nothing going wrong with that,” Sorin said from the doorway.

Darius flicked Sorin a look. “I’m sure I have no idea what you are referring to, Sorin. I seem to get along rather fine with you.”

Sorin smiled, eyes crinkling. “True enough.”

Darius returned his attention back to Cameron, who was giving Sorin his own irritable look. Though the moment Cameron caught Darius’ eye, his expression returned to neutrality.

“I’m sure you will,” Cameron said, as if Sorin hadn’t spoken a word. “However Nik’s shrunken frontal lobe suggests he will not behave accordingly. So when he eventually does decide to overreact, I suggest you be prepared for it. He’s emotional on a good day and as he is pregnant, he’s even more so.”

“Thank you for the precaution.”

“I thought it would be beneficial.”

Cameron’s pale eyes lingered on him momentarily, flickering in the candle light, before he turned back to Cyrus who was kneeling on the ground near the candles. His eyes seemed rather unfocused. “When can we get this over with?” Cameron asked him. When Cyrus didn’t answer, Cameron moved his attention to Sorin in the doorway. “Focus your witch.”

Cameron rolled his eyes when Sorin hissed at him, but moved to crouch near Cyrus. Cyrus blinked at him, and then fixed his gaze on Cameron. “Pardon?”

“When can we get this over with?” Cameron said, irritably.

He always did detest repeating himself.

“Within the next few days,” Cyrus replied. “I’ve got everything ready. I just need to set it up.”

Cameron pulled out his phone, clearly flicking through his schedule. “I’ll give you the next two days to set up and then I will be here at seven sharp the third day. Be ready by then.”

Cameron slipped his phone into his pocket and disappeared through the door without a glace his way.

Darius bit back his sigh. “I do hope that is alright.”

Cyrus shrugged. “Not that I have much of a choice. But I’ll be fine. Once the spell is done, I’m going to take the longest nap, however.”

“And it will be the most well deserved longest nap,” Darius said, solemnly.

With a tired smile, Cyrus began extinguishing the candles, one by one, coating the room with nighttime once more.

Tagging:  @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

[awstenknyght]

Never Bloom Again

A/N: i have decided that this will lead into Bad Idea. josie finds out kath cheated

Warnings: alcohol, drugs, self harm, tell me if i missed something. also emily being a little bitch, but what’s new

Song Used: Never Bloom Again

Tags: @buttons-and-gulons @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @thatsmycigarbutyoucanborrowit @brooklyn-is-here @the-cowbi @trans-witch-cauldron @and-shes-calling-a-cab @lxwkey-as-hell

All the girls in Los Angeles look like you from a distance

Josie stepped up to the mic. She’d only been on tour for a few days, but she already missed Katherine more than anything. 

“Hey guys!” she was met with a chorus of applause. “This one’s called Powerless. Its for my wonderful girlfriend Kath. I wish she could be here with me now.”

She strummed out the first few chords and began to sing. “I really wouldn’t mind a 20 hour drive…”

I tried to give you space until i stepped away

From your brain but now i just miss it

After the show, Josie flopped onto her bunk. Everyone else had gone out to a bar, but she decided to stay in the bus and call Katherine.

Josie pulled out her phone and clicked on the familiar contact. It took a while, but soon a very disheveled looking Kath came onto the screen.

“Baby!” Josie cried, wishing she could reach through the screen and kiss her.

“Hey Jo,” Katherine responded, her voice hoarse. She kept looking at something behind the screen, but Josie thought nothing of it. “How was the show?”

Josie grinned and launched into an excited recap of her day. “How about you? Did you have a good day?”

Katherine’s cheeks turned bright red. “Uh yeah, it was great.”

Josie frowned. Kath wouldn’t stop looking at something- or someone- behind the camera. “Is someone there with you?”

“No!” Katherine shook her head quickly before clearing her throat. “Hey, I'm getting kinda tired. Do you want to call in the morning?”

Josie swallowed and nodded. The screen went black before she could say goodbye.

All the girls in los angeles look like you from a distance

And now i’m kinda thinking that i’ll never bloom again

Josie sat at a bar stool next to King. Mouse, Moth, and Bruiser were all playing pool. Well, Moth and Bruiser were playing. Mouse was doing her best to distract them from the game, which included climbing on the pool table and bonking their heads with one of the extra poles.

Josie took her phone out and checked it again. There was still nothing.

“You okay?” King asked hesitantly.

“Hmm? Oh. yeah i’m fine.” she said, barely looking up. 

“Are you sure? You haven’t looked up from your phone since we got here.”

“It’s just-” she let out an exasperated breath. “It’s been a week since i talked to Kath. And last time we called she was kind of… off.”

King nodded and downed his drink. “She’s probably fine. If you’re really worried, maybe try calling her again?”

Josie pulled out her phone and tried calling. Nothing. Maybe she just fell asleep. She decided to send a text instead.

Hey baby, you okay?

Kath responded surprisingly fast this time. 

Yeah, just a bit tired.

Josie frowned. Being tired never kept Katherine from calling before. Well, at least not before the tour-

I never thought I’d let myself wear the weak look

but I guess if the shoe fits

Josie didn’t talk to Kath at all for the next week. Then a week turned into a month, a month into two, until Josie was outside their apartment door, waiting to go in.

Josie took a deep breath before pushing the door open. “Kathy? You home?”

No response. Josie set down her bags and walked into the kitchen. There was a note on the counter for her.

Hey love!

If you get home before i get back, i’m just at a friends house. Can’t wait to see you again! <3

Josie tried not to be disappointed. It wasn’t Kath’s fault. She turned back, deciding to start unpacking, when something caught her eye.

Sitting on the counter was a small charm bracelet. Not just any charm bracelet though.

There's a million pairs here

String along my soul, dear, 'til my breath feels useless

“Em!” Josie ran up to the taller girl and jumped onto her back. “Happy birthday baby!”

“Jesus christ J, be careful!” Emily responded. 

Josie climbed down. “Sorry babe. Look what i got you!”

Josie handed her a small charm bracelet. It had six charms already on it, and room for more. “D’ya like it?”

“Thanks baby! I love it!” Emily smiled as she slipped it on. She gave josie a kiss. Cherry lipstick and alcohol. The combination might seem repulsive to others, but to Josie it was perfect. It was emily. 

It's like god fell asleep in

The middle of the day he built my self-esteem

Why was Emily’s bracelet in their apartment? Unless-

No. she’d never. She’s not like that

Josie needed to clear her head. Only one thing could help with that. She rushed to the bathroom.

'Cause I'll keep hopping on these planes

'Til we're sharing last names and a softer scene

Josie turned the corner into the alleyway. Emily was waiting there, just like she promised, with a familiar smirk.

“I knew you’d come crawling back.”

Josie looked down. She didn’t mean for it to get this out of hand. But her hands were shaking and she knew only one thing that could stop them.

“Em, give it to me. Please-”

“Nope! Kisses first baby,” Emily responded in a sing-song voice. “You know the drill.”

“Please Em, i don’t want to do this again-” she was cut off by Emily's lips crashing into her’s. She tried to pull away, but emily had her trapped and wasn’t letting go.

Cherry lipstick and alcohol. Josie wondered when the taste stopped being home and started being hell.

Instead of tying our breath in knots again

You're chopping it down in heavy seconds

Alone was never easy after you

Katherine walked in the door hours later. Josie had come down by then. Her cheeks were stained with tears and her eyes were puffy and red. Katherine noticed immediately.

“Baby! What happened? Are you okay?”

Josie held up the bracelet. “What’s Emily’s bracelet doing here?”

Kath froze. “I- I don’t know.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” Josie yelled, standing up so she was almost eye to eye with Katherine. “Are you cheating on me?”

“Josie, you’re not in a good mental state. Come on, lets go to sleep.”

“No! Answer me!” Josie’s voice finally broke. “Are you cheating on me?”

“Baby-”

Josie shook her head. “I knew it.”

With that, she grabbed her bags, still packed and waiting by the door, and ran.

Cause all the girls in Los Angeles look like you from a distance

I tried to give you space until I stepped away

From your brain and now i just miss it

Josie’s hands were shaking. She needed more. Just a bit, just enough to calm her nerves.

It had been three weeks since- since the incident. Josie tried to stay away from it. But without Kath to lean on, it was all she had left.

“So Josie, any new songs we should get ready for?”

Josie snapped back to the present. Right. The interview.

“Uh, I’m working on a new one. Called Never Bloom Again.”

The woman smiled widely. “What’s this one about?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see!” Mouse cut in. Thank goodness for mouse. Josie hadn’t released any news about the breakup and she wasn’t ready to talk about it now, especially not with this far-too-cheery-to-be-real interviewer.

Josie excused herself to the bathroom as soon as possible. She needed it bad. As soon as it was back in her, she was able to relax. 

I’m so screwed.

All the girls in Los Angeles look like you from a distance

Now I'm kinda thinking that I'll never bloom again

Josie sat across from king in a small diner. Mouse had forced them there. In her words, “Just because you’re both sad and alone doesn’t mean you can become shut-ins. Go be sad and alone together.”

So there they were. Being sad and alone together. 

“Did you relapse?” King asked after taking a drink.

“Yeah,” Josie sighed. “You?”

“Duh.”

They were silent for a while after. “Why wasn’t I enough?”

Josie looked up. King was staring at his phone. Josie grabbed it out of his hand. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault B cheated, it’s that bitch Katie’s.”

King nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. “Can I have my phone back?”

“Not if you’re gonna keep looking at pictures of B.”

“That’s not fair, you still have your phone!”

“Well I’m over Kath.” Josie said, but she sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than anything else.

“Mhm,” King said, grabbing Josie’s phone and turning it on. The screen lit up with Katherine’s face. “Completely over her.”

“Fuck you,” Josie said, kicking him under the table. He kicked her back. Soon they were full on fighting under the table and laughing loudly.

A few minutes later, after being kicked out of the restaurant, they began walking home. Josie was finally smiling again.

'Cause this is what you've done, you've done to me

Josie’s heart was racing. She had blacked out and woken up to far too many notifications. 

She logged into twitter to see what all the commotion was about and froze. 

It’s official. No more lies. Me and @ watch_what_happens are done. Sorry

Had she sent that? She didn’t remember it. Then again, she didn’t remember anything from the past hour-

She had hundreds of notifications; press, friends, family, and fans all wanted to know what went down.

But one stood out.

Blocked number

Guess that means i win?

'Cause this is what you've done, you've done to me

Josie stepped up to the microphone and took a deep breath. “This is never bloom again. It goes out to two wonderful exes. I hope you’re having fun together.”

She nodded to mouse and began strumming. She could feel her hands beginning to shake again.

No. Not now.

She tried to focus on the song. It was the last one in the set. She could do it. In and out, sing the words, go through the motions.

“You're not alone 'til it stings like this

I'll fake asleep until I'm dreaming

I guess you messed me up, I'll pay for this

And sleep it off without your kiss”

Josie finished the song and ran off stage. She needed something, anything. She opened the bathroom cabinet. Empty. Her bag was gone too.

Mouse must’ve found it.

She collapsed on the floor, shaking. She needed something to ground herself. Something shiny caught her eye. A small blade in the corner of the room.

It would have to work.

I never thought I'd let myself give what you took

But I sent it off in gift wrap

Josie slowly stood and tried to leave the trailer. She had been spending every night there for god knows how long, but she was done now. She had an actual family now, one that wanted her, and she was ready to go. There was only one problem.

Emily.

The sleeping girl rolled over, reaching out to where Josie was only moments earlier. She woke up with a start, noticing the lack of warmth next to her.

“Baby? Where you going?” Emily asked in a sugar-sweet voice.

“I told you Em. I’m leaving.”

Emily sat up. Her tone turned harsh. “No you’re not.”

“I can’t keep doing this Emily. I’m leaving and I’m not coming back.”

Emily grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down to the bed. “I don’t think you heard me sweetheart. You're not going anywhere.”

With that, she kissed Josie. Hard. Josie gave in and kissed her back. The taste was addicting. And as much as she wanted to leave, she would always come back.

Just as Josie was starting to drift off to sleep again, the sugar sweet voice returned. 

“You’re mine.”

Now all that's left here are my lonely words, dear

I'll paint you pretty with my syntax

It was too loud. Everything was ten times louder and Josie didn’t know what to do.

The show had just ended. The fans were cheering and Mouse was trying to tell her something. But she couldn’t hear a thing.

She was in her head again.

Josie pushed through to the bathroom. She could still feel the scars from the last show. Or were those from last night? She couldn’t remember anymore. Not that she cared.

Once she had it in her again, her hands stopped shaking. It seemed less loud now. She pushed open the bathroom door, ready to put on her fake face on and pretend, when something stopped her.

Right outside waiting for her was none other than Emily and Katherine, holding hands.

Josie’s face hardened. “What do you want?”

Katherine opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Emily just smirked. Josie tried to push past, but Em wouldn’t budge. 

“Kathy, sweetheart, why don’t you wait by the car? I want to talk to Josie alone.”

“Jo, I’m so sorry, I made a mistake, I-” Kath was cut off by Emily’s sharp gaze. She nodded and ran off.

“What were you doing in there?”

“None of your fucking business,” Josie retorted with a glare. What did Emily want from her anyway?

“Oh, we both know that it is my business,” she said with a smile. “Come on baby, did you really think it was that easy to escape it?”

Josie winced. “Don’t call me baby. You lost that right a long time ago.”

“But babe, don’t you miss it?” Emily moved closer and grabbed her hand. Josie didn’t push her away. “We had so much fun together! Don’t you want to go back?”

“I-” Josie’s head was spinning. Snap out of it. “No! What about Kath?”

Emily leaned in closer. “It can be our little secret”

“Katherine’s smart. She’ll figure it out.” What was she saying?

“Will she?” Emily asked in an innocent voice. “You wouldn’t have known a thing if i hadn’t left you that little… clue.”

Josie’s eyes widened. The bracelet. Suddenly, she could feel Emily pulling her somewhere. Before she knew what was going on, Emily was straddling her, their lips locked together.

And she wasn’t complaining

~

aha-

[nikxation]

If You Give a Mothman a Loan

Huge thank you to @birdgirlamp for commissioning me to write a fic by donating to WHO (if you want more information, see this post). Sorry it took so long to get this out, but here it is! Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2359

Characters: Stanford Pines (pre- and post-portal), Fiddleford McGucket (pre-portal), Wendy Corduroy (post-portal... obviously)

~ ~ ~

It’s three months into Fiddleford’s stay in Gravity Falls, and the skeleton in the closet (or the portal in the basement) is slowly looking less and less like just a bundle of messy wires and half-finished structural supports and more like the behemoth of a machine it’s meant to be. The raw stock for the exterior plating should be here any day now, the first of the two power transfer beams is online, and every day is another day closer to their end-goal.

He’ll hand it to Stanford Pines, this is some of their best work yet.

He still remembers the day he arrived and Ford showed him the initial drafts. He’d thought the size was overkill, that the hollowed-out basement beneath the house would just become a room with decent acoustics for him to practice his banjo playing away from his old college roommate while the real machine was built somewhere less cold and damp.

Boy howdy was he wrong.

Now, every time he walks in the room, he feels the thing like the presence it is, towering stories tall, looming over him in a way that he would almost consider menacing if it weren’t for the fact that it’s just a machine.

He’s got blueprints and prototyped miniatures of literal death bots.

So why would the interdimensional portal in the basement put him on edge?

It shouldn’t.

So he shakes the thought away and gets back to work.

An unsuccessful system test led to the time-shift circuit on motherboard seven incinerating again. If he were the kind of man to actually keep count (which he certainly is), he’d know it’s the fourth time in the past week this same part has crapped out on them.

It’s also the reason he’s gonna finally stop out-sourcing these parts and just start making them in-house from now on. He’s about sick of replacing them every five minutes.

That’s what brings Fiddleford to where he is now, with his upper body shoved halfway inside the portal’s support structure and crammed between God knows how many electrical components. His arms have just started to cramp in their rather unnatural position as he pries at the burnt-out part to replace it with a newer one that will hopefully hold out against the power output better than its predecessor.

Ford’s sitting in the control room, supposedly running through some of the math again to double-check that they didn’t miss anything.

The “supposedly” is only because, for the past twenty minutes, the man has been prattling on like Fiddleford’s grandma at Sunday family brunch. He can only hear the occasional snippet from his position (quite literally) inside the portal, and as far as he can tell, he thinks he’s talking about either his most recent research outing, or something about preacher scouting. He wants to lean towards the former, but with the new stories he’s found about a so-called “velocipastor”, he can’t rule out the latter. Either way, the man hasn’t stopped talking long enough to breathe, let alone re-run equations that use relative space-time physics with integrated fourth dimensional calculus.

Fiddleford just doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he really can’t hear him.

He snaps the ribbon cable off the still-smoking component (after the first time it blew, he learned to bring heat-resistant gloves in here with him) and is rather glad to see it’s still intact. Rewiring is a day-long project he’s glad to not have to do again. He maneuvers his hand back out into open air and tosses the old piece somewhere into the room before getting to work mounting the new one.

Ford’s voice echoes from the next room over.

“… extra funds… exploring… investing for…”

Bolting the circuit down turns out to be easier the fifth time he has to do it, and he’s about to start running a simple, probably non-exploding test to make sure the new part is integrated correctly when he hears—

“… so I gave Mothman a thousand dollars…”

And that, of all things, stops Fiddleford in his tracks.

“Come again?” he yells. He had to have misheard because he swears he just heard the man say—

“I ran into Mothman in the woods yesterday,” Ford says, all too nonchalantly, “and they told me they were starting up a small business and needed an investment, so I gave them a thousand dollars from my excess funds with a verbal agreement that they would pay me back within the year.”

… So he didn’t mishear him, that’s for darn sure.

The fact that the Mothman is real is surely weird enough. But he’s lived in Gravity Falls (and known Stanford Pines) for long enough that it doesn’t really surprise him too much. No, that’s not the part that brings him to wiggle himself out of his position inside the portal’s underbelly just enough so that he can meet Ford’s eyes in the other room.

“You gave Mothman… a thousand dollars…” Fiddleford says slowly.

“To help kickstart their new business, yes.” It’s so casual, like he doesn’t even register the inherent absurdity in what he’s saying.

“And that business is?”

“Mothballs.”

“Stanford!”

“What?”

“That’s the stupidest scam I’ve ever heard.”

Ford sputters, his face aghast for a moment. “I did not get scammed by Mothman!”

“You did.”

“Did not.”

“Do you even know what mothballs are for?”

He pauses, his mouth snapping shut, his face turning the slightest shade of red. Fiddleford can see it from the next room over. “No. I always assumed they were some biproduct created by moths during reproduction or something.” Fiddleford lets his head fall back, bonking on a bar of the steel framework behind him.

“Stanford, they repel moths,” he says. “You just let a bunch of moths convince you they’re starting a business making the thing they hate. That’s stupider than the time my neighbor tried to convince me his cat could see God. And you have three PhDs!”

“Four now,” he says quietly, and Fiddleford levels him with a single raised eyebrow.

“You’re gonna go back, find that over-glorified insect, and get our money back. Or so help me, I will never do another grocery run for as long as I live here.”

“Oh come now, that’s hardly fair. You know I hate going into town.”

“Then you better hurry along and find him.”

“You honestly believe the actual Mothman is pulling a con.”

“People lie, Stanford,” he says, finally ducking himself back into the machine to finally run the diagnostic on the new circuit. “Even cryptids and aliens probably from another dimension.”

There’s a moment of silence, but it’s broken a few moments later by the sound of a chair scuffing on the floor and footsteps ascending the wooden stairs out of the basement.

Fiddleford snorts, shaking his head and getting back to work.

~ ~ ~

“So, like, the Mothman,” Wendy says, keeping pace next to him as they make their way back into the woods, the sun’s last rays just starting to slip behind the trees. “The actual Mothman. He’s real?”

“As real as any of the other anomalies in this town,” Ford says, adjusting the strap of the bag slung over his shoulder. He’d heard the cryptid had come back into town again shortly after Wierdmageddon, and after his first attempt at getting his money back a few weeks back (second if you count that time over three decades ago) went sour, he decided to bring back-up this time. But with Stan still out of commission and the kids rightly wanting to stay with him, he was hard-pressed for options. That is until the cashier girl piped up and said she’d do it for ten percent of whatever they recovered.

Ford negotiated her down to eight and a half. She drives a hard bargain; he can see why Stan hired her.

“Dude, that’s sick,” she says.

“I mean, I hardly think they’re ill or anything,” Ford says. “As fast as their moths die off, they re-introduce new ones to the population through some sort of reproductive mitosis—”

“Nah dude, it’s a phrase,” she cuts him off. “Means, like, ‘that’s awesome’.”

“Ah, alright.” Ford pauses to check the anomaly scanner on his watch, the little white blip flashing on the screen. “I’ve never been exceptionally ‘with it’ when it comes to slang, so you’ll have to pardon my misunderstanding.”

“You’re fine, Dr. Pines,” she says. She kicks a loose rock off into the brush. “I’m pretty sure Stan doesn’t understand half of what I say either.” Ford hums an affirmative, intently watching the small blip on his watch, confirming that it is, in fact, slowly moving in their direction. After a few seconds, he drops the bag he’s been carrying with a thwump, a bit of dust swirling up from the dirt.

“We’re going to set up the trap right here,” he says. “We have probably ten minutes until the Mothman comes through here, so we’ll need to act quickly.”

“You got it boss-man.”

It’s a fairly simple net trap, one that they make short work of assembling. Ford had already built the majority of it to bring out here, including a magic-imbued mosquito net that should contain the Mothman’s consciousness so long as they catch the majority of their moths.

He made that mistake last time, the Mothman managing to escape in the couple moths that his trap missed.

“So, you really were in, like, a different dimension for a bunch of years, right?” Wendy asks as she spreads some leaves and twigs over the net.

“Multiple dimensions,” he says as he carefully sets the trap’s trigger pole. “I travelled through thousands of them in my thirty years away from this one.”

“Dude, that’s nuts.”

“It was… pretty sick,” he says, shooting her a wry grin. Wendy groans.

“Well,” she says, “you just confirmed for me that I was right to never teach Stan slang, so thanks for that I guess.”

“Glad to help.” With the trap finally set and ready to go, he pulls the last item out of the bag: the bait, which he flicks on and gently sets down against the trigger.

“That’s a flashlight,” Wendy says, the statement almost a question.

“Indeed, it is.”

“Is it, like,” she says, waving her hands slightly, “I don’t know, magic or something?”

“Nope,” he says, backing off and giving the trap one last look-over. He has to hand it to the girl, she knew what she was doing.

“You’re serious?”

“Entirely,” he says. “It doesn’t take much to attract them. Back in the eighties, they used to hang around streetlamps and windows all the time. It’s a wonder they’re still considered a cryptid considering how blatantly out in the open they—”

He hears the tell-tale sound of fluttering insect wings, not too far off, but loud enough to make him pause. He glances in the direction and then down at his watch, the blip on the screen almost on top of them. Quickly, he motions to Wendy to hide and then does the same himself, crouching behind the nearest tree and peering around the side to watch.

It’s rather quiet for a few moments, the darkness starting to settle into the pines, the lit flashlight a lone beacon, just the sound of the pine needles whistling in the breeze and the far-off humming of the approaching cryptid. But that low hum gradually gets louder, turning to a white drone of hundreds of small wings beating in tandem.

A familiar dark shape emerges from the underbrush. Humanoid, but just barely. Ten-feet tall with two enormous wings sprouting from its back, two large yellow eyes reflecting the scattered light of the flashlight in the clearing. Their entire shape feels blurred at the edges, like someone drew a line of charcoal and smudged it, the hundreds of moths that make up their body shifting and moving amongst each other in a din of small beating wings.

The Mothman.

Ford hates to admit that the thought still sends an excited shiver up his spine.

They emerge into the clearing, glancing around and taking an immediate interest in the flashlight lying on the ground. They approach it slowly, cautiously, glancing around as if waiting for the ambush, eventually making it onto the net before moving to bend down to pick up the flashlight.

They stop.

Ford holds his breath.

“Stanford Pines,” a voice says, the sound a high whine broken up and mixed with soft clicking. The Mothman stands back upright, snapping its eyes right in his direction. Immediately, Ford’s mind starts swirling with potential fallback options to try to turn this in their favor. “Surprised you’re still alive after last week. Really think we’re stupid enough to fall for—”

“Suck mothballs, lamp licker!” Wendy screams from across the clearing, the Mothman whipping around just as a projectile of some sort (is that an axe?) flies out of the underbrush and hits the trap’s trigger dead-on, sending the net shooting upwards and capturing almost all of the moths above it. A shrill screech fills the air from the now-dangling mass of moths, but Ford is too busy gaping at the cashier girl as she emerges from her hiding spot.

“Nice shot, Wendy!” he beams, shaking off the shock and coming out to join her on either side of the now-enraged Mothman. She shrugs, retrieving the axe from off the ground and sliding it back into her belt loop behind her back.

“No biggie. My dad enters me into the annual axe-throwing competition every year. I’ve won the last 5 in a row.” Ford, having not known anything about this girl before today, is rather stunned. He certainly was not expecting that from the teen, let alone the nonchalance over it. “But anywho,” she says, turning her attention to the writhing mass in front of them. “About that money…”

~ ~ ~

About two hours after they left, Ford and Wendy arrive back at the Mystery Shack, Ford heading to the back of the house to find Stan and the kids, Wendy collecting her things and heading back out to go home, a crisp one-hundred dollar bill tucked into her pocket.

[yikeshetalia]

The Red Rose

If I want to write about the cats choosing Alfred for Arthur Imma write about the cats choosing Alfred for Arthur and there is NOTHING you can do about it.

Turns out this is gonna be a multiple chapter fic, Idk how long but hey it’s gonna be fluffy. Bitches love fluff. 

Don’t expect it to be update on Mondays or anything like that, chapters come out as I finish them.

“ And this is the Red Rose Cafe. Their coffee is the best in town, but they don’t take meal plan so you gotta use your own money.” Gilbert explained, leading Alfred into the cafe. Alfred looked around, noticing a wall of vines. “ Are those roses?” Alfred asked as they waited in line. Gilbert nodded “ The owner loves roses, so the rose wall was all grown in house by him. He’s one of my exes and I used to work here,  so don’t expect him to be very pleasant. He’s an asshole.” he grumbled as they were next.

When Alfred looked to the guy, he couldn’t help but freeze up a bit. Standing behind the counter, taking orders and making drinks as if it was easy as breathing, was a very cute man. His bangs were pinned back to keep them out of his eyes, but it also revealed that he had massive eyebrows. His green eyes flicked from Alfred’s face to Gilbert’s, neutral face changing to one of slight anger. “ Did you just call me an asshole, Gilbert? Last I remember I wasn’t the one who cheated and ruined our relationship.” he said, putting in an order for a latte without even being told. “ Usual amount, $3.50.” 

Gilbert handed over the money with a huff “ We were on a break, let it go.” The barista rolled his eyes “ Sure. I’ll let it go when you stop trying to walk out with Crumpet or Hero. God, I hope your university isn’t letting you show this poor sap around.” He held out his hand to Alfred “ I’m Arthur. If you’re planning on hanging around Gilbert I suggest you heed my warning that he’s just as much of an ass as he’ll make me out to be.” Alfred laughed, shaking his head. “ I figured that one out on day one... Hey, you’re hiring?” Alfred asked, noticing the flyer on the counter. 

“ Well, in some sense yes. As the school year starts we get busier and we need someone to only run the till. I make all the drinks and my cousin Oliver makes all the pastries. If you don’t have classes until later, it’s a good gig. We pay reasonably, and there’s a chance for you to get a raise if you turn out to be more helpful than the prick next to you.” Arthur explained. Alfred was about to say something, then heard a loud yowl from the floor. “ Don’t look down at him. He takes it as a welcome to climb up your legs. He usually only does this to me at closing.” Arthur warned, but the yowling got louder and louder. 

Alfred couldn’t help it and looked down, a very large Maine coon began to climb up his leg. “ God damn it, Hero, not again.” Arthur ran around the counter and took off the huge cat. Alfred was just laughing the entire time, especially since Arthur was basically engulfed by the large cat. Alfred petted the cat’s head, earning a loud purr. “ Huh, usually he doesn’t take head pats from strangers.” Gilbert pointed out, reaching for the cat. Upon seeing Gilbert reach, Hero swatted at him with his claws out and hissed. 

“ Ah, nope. Fucker still doesn’t like me. I swear you trained him to do that.” Gilbert held his hand to his chest, though Hero hadn’t actually gotten him. “ No, he just can tell who’s good people and who’s not.” Arthur put Hero on the cat tree and he took off across the cafe by the many shelves in it. “ Welp, looks like I gotta apply here now.” Alfred joked, waiting for Arthur to get back behind the bar. “ I guess I’ll just take a medium iced coffee.”

Arthur punched in his order, pouring out Gilbert’s quickly “ Total is $2, please.” Arthur did Alfred’s order faster, iced coffee being easier than the latte and getting distracted by a chunky boi. Alfred heard a meow from the cat tree besides him, figuring it was Hero again. He didn’t look over, but tapped his shoulder in a welcome for the cat to step on. Instead of the Lynx sized cat, a much lighter one hopped onto his shoulders and laid down with a purr. Gilbert was staring at him like he’d just said he killed a man, and Arthur was smiling watching him. 

“ Is this a different cat? What’s wrong?” Alfred asked, noticing lord chunk on the cat tree. “ Oh, I figured it was him...” Alfred blushed a bit, but held his hand to where the cat’s head would be to let him sniff it. The cat instead bonked his head into Alfred’s ear, purring happily with his new spot. “ The cat you currently have on your shoulders is Crumpet. Hero will let anyone pet him, but Crumpet is my cat. He isn’t very fond of other humans, even my cousin gets him angry.” Arthur explained “ Looks like you actually have to apply here now, here.” He passed over his coffee and an application form, as well as a cat treat. “ He’ll jump off before you go into the bathrooms or try to leave, but expect him to climb right back on as soon as you come back out.” 

Alfred sat at the table with Gilbert, filling out the application and drinking his coffee. “ $10 an hour? This place must get busy.” Alfred chuckled. “ Are you sure you’re going to be able to get up at 4 every morning? Arthur used to make me get up with him and it’s awful.” Gilbert rubbed his face “ Lived with him over the summer and let me tell you. It was awful.” Gilbert took a sip of his coffee and yawned. “ Bro, I wake up at 3 in the morning. I lived on a farm all my life, animals gotta eat before I headed into school.” he shrugged. He took the cat treat and lured the purring cat off his shoulder, gasping quietly. 

In front of him stood a Scottish fold, who had eyebrow marks on his face. The cat was tiny compared to Hero, but he was considerably softer than Hero. The cat carefully took the treat as Hero leapt onto the table and started sniffing Alfred’s hand. The cat whacked Hero on the head once and he ran off, leaving the cat on the table. “ They’re gay as fuck, Arthur rescued Crumpet from the gutters and after he opened this place Hero started hanging around. Arthur shooed him off thinking they’d fight, but each cat fight isn’t actually a cat fight.” Crumpet sat down, leaning back against Alfred and starting to groom his chest. Gilbert laughed and took a picture, and Alfred picked up the cat and turned him to look at him in the eye.

The cat stared Alfred in the eye, then began gently swatting at his glasses. Once put back down, he curled into a ball in Alfred’s lap and purred loudly. “ Damn, that cat loves you. Maybe you should ask Arthur out.” Gilbert teased, which actually made Alfred blush “ No! No, I barely know him and he’s gonna be my boss maybe! I couldn’t.” Alfred said, starting to finish filling out the application. “ Psh, Arthur always dates the cashiers. How do you think I got a job here?” he laughed, finishing his coffee “ Also, the cats like you. He’s gotta say yes.” 

Arthur whistled and Crumpet launched from Alfred’s lap and trotted over to him, and Hero launched from shelf to shelf and jumped on Arthur, who stumbled a bit as he caught him. He put Hero down, putting the cat food down after. Arthur caught Alfred staring, and Alfred’s breath caught for a second as they stared at each other. Arthur smiled softly at him, heading back behind the bar and heading  into the back kitchen. 

“ Oliver, we’re out of scones and there’s a cute man.” Arthur called and Oliver headed over to his cousin, wiping his hands on his apron “ Oh? Cute guy? Where?” he asked, grabbing a tray of scones. “ Blonde sitting with Gilbert, the cats even like him.” Arthur was blushing, taking a deep breath as they both headed back out. “ Now you mean cat, right?” Oliver asked “ Because Crumpet is a little brat.” As Oliver started to put the scones in the case, Crumpet ran up and started swatting at his leg with his ears back. Arthur picked Crumpet up and closed the behind the bar, and Crumpet ran over to Alfred’s table and jumped up and onto his shoulders. “ I said and meant cats.” Arthur motioned to the dining area. 

Oliver looked over at Alfred before heading into the back with Arthur again. “ Well, looks like your cat has decided on a guy you’re allowed to date, poppet.” Oliver giggled as Arthur kicked at him. “ Shut it, he’s adorable. Did you see how much Crumpet loves him?” The bell on the counter rang and Arthur poked his head out only to see Alfred standing there with Crumpet on his shoulders. “ Hey, I wanted to give in this application before I headed out.” Alfred smiled and Arthur internally panicked. “ Of course,” he looked at the top of the application “ Alfred. My older brother helps me look over the applications so I’ll be sure to contact you as soon as I can.” he smiled back.

[incorrect-dying-light-quotes]

Pls tell us about Karim getting stepped on

TW for general violence

Ok so basically (sorry if this is incoherent I do all of my infodumps in greentext format so I’m trying to summarize it from that bear with me)

Karim is a whore wbk, and he’d let anyone tap, but he’s got a bit of a thing for Crane ya feel? When he first shows up at the garrison Karim is like so you’re a dumb bitch... and I’M a dumb bitch... and spends the whole time flirting with him pretty much. Ofc Crane only comes into the garrison a few times to argue with Rais and then leaves, but they keep talking over the radio. Rais overhears at some point and Beats The Shit Out Of Him and Karim is just like. damn. that shit sucks but am I gonna learn my lesson? NO lmao. Eventually he and Crane start meeting up in private and hee hoo forbidden romance except it’s not all that serious, they’re really just hanging out and occasionally they k*ss or.... or h*ld h*nds and they only really fuck once.

 Eventually someone from the garrison catches them and snitches to Rais for some good boy points, and as Karim’s heading back after a Session (tm) he sees Rais standing at the gate looking considerably more menacing than he usually does and Karim’s like ah. shit. He hops over the fence and Rais immediately starts lecturing him more frantically and angrily than usual and drags him into the courtyard by the hair like an angry grandma. 

Rais gets mad at Karim regularly and usually will give just a light punishment, and Karim’s been in the pit a few times but because Rais and everyone else actually like him they go easy on him and he always comes out fine but this time Rais is understandably fucking pissed. Rais and Tahir take him down to the pit and Karim’s just like ah this is fine. Small price to pay for america dick. 

So they get to the pit and the three of them r standing on The Platform and Karim’s surveying the pit to see how much he’ll have to try, there’s an extra container meaning more biters but they’re just biters so it’s fine right. But no it��s not fine because Rais shoves Karim in without lowering the platform first and Karim breaks his right ankle upon hitting the ground and is like AH DAMN!!!! WHTA THE FUCK !! !! !

Rais fires his gun to agitate the infected who proceed to break out of the containers, and Karim is just like ieaoefejsjkhfkehrse. He hops over on one foot to the nearest container and climbs on top of it for brief safety and is like fuck man fuck. 

Some Virals come at him first which is fine, he takes care of them all just fine by either bonking them on the head hard enough that they just cease to exist or by pushing them off the container onto the spike traps below, but the last one takes a few hits and gives Karim a bit of a hard time and scratches him up a bit but overall he comes out fine. 

Karim does the ol throw some firecrackers and light a propane tank and just blo them all up strat, which works for most of the biters and that’s great because my guy can’t fucking walk. So most of the biters die on impact, the ones who did live can’t get up and are therefore not a threat. probably. 

He gets down off of the container assuming all of the infected are dead and he gets to go back inside now but apparently not. There’s two more Virals which he takes care of, though with some difficulty cuz he’s on the ground now. 

He’s then like okay NOW I’m done right? And goes over to where Rais is standing expecting him to let him go now, but he doesn’t lower the platform at all and Karim’s like. bruh. And Rais lectures him about being a whore and betraying him one time too many yadda yadda nothing he hasn’t heard before. And then he sees someone manning the crane (heh) and drops the Demolisher Container down there and Karim is like. oh god. fuck. And picks up a shitty machete off the ground and tries to figure out what to do

The Demolisher charges out of the container and at him and he jumps out of the way, landing on his bad foot on accident and being liek OIUEAUFEHJ. He ducks behind a container because PAIN and also still trying to figure out what to do. Demolisher throws a slab of concrete at the container and Karim’s just like oaebkaebk. eoabejkab. ekabekjb. And figures he just has to be careful and take his time. So he gets up to Face It Like A Man

He fights the Demolisher as you’re supposed to, waiting for him to charge and jumping out of the way, only attacking him when he’s tired. He does fairly well, manages to break his helmet off in a few tries and only lands on his bad foot once. He backs away in preparation for the next charge, getting ready to hit him as hard as he can, but one of the biters he didn’t kill grabs his leg and pulls him to the ground.

Karim is like oh god oh fuck and tries to kick the biter away and get back up but it’s really going ham and isn’t letting go. The Demolisher charges again and Karim is like. change da world. my final message. goodb y e. And the Demolisher just steps right on him. There’s an ungodly fucking cracking sound and Karim is just UEAAEEAEAEAE. Audience is yelling. but Luckily for him the Biter let go and the Demolisher is out of breath, so Karim manages to pull himself off the ground and stumble into a nearby container while the Demolisher isn’t looking so he’s in a good hiding place for now. 

He proceeds to throw up a shit ton of blood. Like a lot. A very bad amount. And thinks he’s dying and he’s never been in this much pain in his life. He starts to panic a bit as he hears the Demolisher pacing around the pit looking for him. He somehow manages to stand up, and holy shit his fucking bones dude. ow. god damn. He throws up a bit more and then leans against the side of the container, trying to figure out what to do. The Demolisher only needed one or two good hits to the head and he’d be gone but Karim obviously was in no shape to do that. 

Karim’s like fuck it. Propane tank thing again. Because he doesn’t really have anything to do and at this point for him it’s do or die. And he sure is dying. Problem is he’s gonna have to manage to hit it hard enough and also throw it far enough which he probably can’t do. But luckily for him there’s a bundle of firecrackers right there next to him. So he figures his best bet is to lure the Demolisher behind the container, hit the tank, and roll it as hard as he can and take cover in the container, and there’s like a 30% chance the Demolisher will die instead of him. Which is better than 0%. So he’s like alright I got this. 

He lights the firecrackers and throws them a good ways away, and the Demolisher gets agitated by the sound and charges towards it. Karim picks up a pipe and uses the last ounce of his strength to hit the nozzle of the propane tank and rolls it over to him as hard as he can before ducking back inside. He lays down and covers his ears and hopes he doesn’t die. Shit goes explodey and after a few seconds he opens his eyes and is like. I’m not dead. Unless this is hell. but then he realizes it’s very quiet and he pokes his head out and sees that it’s fucking dead babey!!!!!!! he did it!!!!!!!!!! fuck yeah!!!!!!!!

So he pulls himself up and hobbles over to Rais and Tahir who are now lowering the platform. Tahir looks hella relieved that you’re even alive and Rais looks just as pissed as before with a hint of disappointment. Karim collapses in front of them and throws up some more, Rais says something he doesn’t hear bc his ears are ringing loud as hell. Probably something about how he’s disappointed you’re still alive but he’s not unfair so since you lived you’re allowed to walk out. Tahir carefully picks him up and he proceeds to pass out in his arms. 

He wakes up a few minutes later as he’s still being carried and then he realizes how cold he is and wakes up and he’s like oh. outside. boy it sure is dark out here haha what are you guys doing? Tahir gently sets him down on the grass outside the fence and Karim’s like wht. And Rais explains that if he can survive a night with the Volatiles in his current state then he’s welcome back to the Garrison, but otherwise he can get fucked. 

Karim is like god dammit as the two of them walk away and he just lays in the grass. He’s like hm . wet grass. nice feeling :^)). a bitch delirious rn. Eventually he pulls himself up and drags himself over to the front gate and talks to the guards and tries to get them to help him. He’s like I’ll suck your dick if you let me use your radio. the guard is like hell yeah and lets him use it. So he manages to contact the tower and say that he needs H E L P . 

Crane comes, guards don’t shoot him because Karim said so. Crane picks him up and carries him to the nearest secure building, not a safe house becaues the nearest one is way too far away. Crane sits down with him and tends to the few wounds he can help with and says that if he’s still alive in the morning he’ll bring his doctor over. Karim’s like ight lit. nice cock by the way and passes out again

Then the next morning Crane brings Lena over and also Karim’s ex gf Eliza who is a nurse in the Garrison shows up to help and they fix him up as much as they can and Crane ends up taking him to the tower so he can recover. the end

[joyful-soul-collector]

Here to Help: Chapter 2

We’ll work on that

Word Count: 4149

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Nightmares, mentions of past emotional/physical abuse from a parent, and while Peter doesn't have an eating disorder, his behavior/the descriptions may be triggering to some

Synopsis: Wakes up terrified and hungry

Here’s Part 1 if you haven’t read it! You can also read this story on AO3 if that’s easier for you!

I paced around the kitchen, thinking about yesterday, as I had been all night. I tried going to sleep but every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Peter crying and asking his aunt if he was allowed to sleep. Needless to say, the notion drove any exhaustion I might’ve felt far from my mind. This woman--this monster neglected and abused him, and all the while he had school and Spider-Man to worry about. This kid has so much weight on his shoulders, and he doesn’t even realize it. 

“Sir,” Friday said suddenly, making me almost drop my coffee.

“Jesus-- Yeah Fri?”

“Peter’s heart rate is rising at an unusual pace, I believe he is having a nightmare,” she said.

“Oh shit, okay, thanks Fri,” I said, setting down my coffee and rushing to Peter’s room. I knocked on his door and called, “Underoos? You alright? Friday’s a bit worried.”

For a second I thought there was no answer. But then I heard muffled moans and crying coming from behind the door, though I couldn’t tell what he was saying, or even if he was saying anything at all. 

“I’m coming in kid,” I said, feeling a bit of panic rising in my throat.

Peter was twisting and shaking, his covers kicked off him and his hair stuck to the sweat on his forehead. He writhed on the bed, moaning and crying as though he were in pain.

“Peter!? Hey, Peter wake up, wake up kid,” I said, running over and trying to shake him awake. All he did was whimper and turn over.

“No… stop… please…”

“Pete? C’mon kid, you gotta wake up, it’s not real--”

“I didn’t mean it, it was an accident, I’m sorry--Help me, help me Dad, help me it hurts!”

“Peter!”

“Dad help! HELP DAD HELP ME--” 

He snapped awake with a strangled gasp, clutching and scrabbling at his chest, wheezing as tears poured down his face and mingled with the sweat already there. 

“Hey, hey you’re alright, you’re okay--”

“I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe--”

“Yes you can, you can, look--” I took his hand and pressed it firmly to his frantically rising and falling chest. “That’s you, you’re breathing, that’s you, do you feel it?”

He went silent for a second before nodding, though his breaths still sounded strained and painful. 

“Okay, you gotta calm down kiddo, we’re gonna do the same thing we did yesterday okay? Breathe deep, all the way down okay?”

He nodded. 

“Focus on your breath,” I continued. “Feel the air going past your nose and mouth, down your throat, filling your gut. And then feel it going out, feel your stomach sinking, the air going past your nose and mouth. Just focus on the feeling of breathing.”

He never stopped looking at me as he did his best to calm down. He stared at me and clutched my hand like I was the only thing that kept him anchored to earth, while his other hand pressed flat against his chest, reminding himself he was still breathing. It was about ten minutes before his grip on me loosened.

Though he was no longer having a panic attack, he still looked small and helpless, like when I found him in the alleyway. He had himself propped up weakly against the headboard, looking like he would blow away if I breathed too hard. But then I remembered what seemed to cheer him up back when I found him alone and scared.

“Do you want a hug?”

His face lit up again just like it did then, with that sappy, almost pitiful hope, and he nodded fervently, as though worried I would change my mind at the last second. 

I swung my legs onto the bed and shifted back so I was sitting next to him. Then I opened my arms and Peter buried himself into my side, his head resting on my chest and his thin arms curled tight around my torso. 

“You sure like hugs,” I said. Peter nodded.

“Safe,” was all that he said.

I rubbed his back with my right hand, feeling dismayed that his spine and ribs still jutted out of his skin. He’s gotta be starving, he slept for a whole twelve hours, and with his metabolism? I imagine his stomach must be absolutely cramping with hunger. 

But knowing him, I’m sure he would sooner pass out from low blood sugar than tell me he’s in the mood for a snack.

“Nightmares suck,” Peter said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah. Yeah, they really do,” I said. “You wanna tell me about it?”

“Um, well it was when the Vulture dropped that building on me, but it was Aunt May who was doing it. She kept saying that I broke the rules so she had to punish me.”

“Man, that sucks. I’m sorry kid.” I almost asked about this “Dad” he was talking about, but decided against it. If he didn’t mention it, maybe that was something he’d rather keep to himself. 

“Not your fault,” he answered. 

 I know. I know it’s not my fault. I know I wasn’t the one who hurt him. But then why do I feel so damn guilty?

It’s because I didn’t notice. Not only did I neglect to realize my intern was fucking homeless, but I never even thought about what his home-life might be like. Never thought to check if he was okay. 

Though as I glanced at the fork still sitting on his bedside table, a small part of my brain told me that I was being ridiculous, and not to blame myself for the pain Peter went through. But I wasn’t interested in listening to that voice at the moment. 

“I should probably get dressed,” Peter said, looking down at his pajama-clad legs. 

“Oh. I guess if you want to then. I think I’ll stay in my pj's,” I said with a laugh. I got out of his bed and shut the door behind me. 

I spent the next ten minutes or so making breakfast, being sure to give Peter twice as much food as me. I put a Hulk bar on his plate too, in case the giant heap of scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, and milk wasn’t enough. To be completely honest, I wasn’t sure how much he really needed, but he did eat an entire box of pasta by himself yesterday so I thought it’d be best not to skimp on anything. 

When everything was set, I looked towards the hallway. There was still no sign of Peter. Then I heard the elevator door ding and slide open, and looked to see Peter taking a step into the elevator, wearing his old (but now clean) clothes from yesterday, backpack on his shoulders and camera slung around his neck. 

“Peter?”

Peter jumped, and the elevator door bonked his shoulder knocking him off-balance. 

“Ow. Oh uh, heyyy Mr. Stark,” Peter said, backing out of the elevator and rubbing his shoulder. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Goin’ to work,” he said simply. 

“To work? Why?”

“Pictures won’t take themselves, Mr. Stark.”

Smartass even when hungry and sleep-deprived. The only way he could be more like me is if he put on sunglasses and grew a goatee.

“No, seriously kid, why are you going to work? You don’t have to work at the Daily Bugle anymore,” I said, walking over to him. 

Peter gave me a funny look, then rolled his eyes. 

“Ha ha, hilarious Mr. Stark.” Peter pressed the down button again, waiting for the elevator to open up and avoiding my eyes.

“Peter what--? You need to stay here, you haven’t recovered from--

“Work isn’t going to wait around for me to rest up--”

“But there’s no reason for you to work anymore!”

“How do you expect me to get my own place if I’m not making money?”

“Expect you? But you’re living here, with me! So I can take care of you! You don’t need to make money anymore if you already have a home!” 

Peter froze and looked at me. He didn’t even move when the elevator door opened again. 

Suddenly a cold weight dropped into my chest. 

“Unless, you don’t want to live here,” I said, looking down and feeling embarrassed. “Which is--Which is fine! But, but you shouldn’t go work at the paper, I’ll get a place lined up for you and--and I’ll pay you for being Spider-Man, I mean I was going to do that anyway, but don’t go and work there, please just stay here for a week or so and--”

“I wanna stay!” Peter said suddenly. I looked up to see him shaking, tears trickling down his face. “I want to stay! I wanna stay with you! I thought I couldn’t-- I thought this was temporary, I thought I was going to have to leave and I didn’t want to be a bother--”

“Oh kid, you’re never a bother, c’mere,” I said, and I pulled him safely into my arms, being sure to push his camera out of the way. “You’re never a bother, you have always been welcome here. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear before you spent a week in the streets. I’m sorry I didn’t think to check on you sooner. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay Mr. Stark. It’s not your fault. It’s a lot of me too, I should’ve asked for help earlier,” Peter said.

“No, no that’s not your fault either. You were taught that you didn’t deserve help, so obviously you didn’t ask. I was taught that too, it took a long time for Pepper and Rhodey to reverse that, heh. So we’ll work on that. How does that sound?”

Peter nodded against my shirt and hugged me closer. I hugged him so tight he actually winced.

“Oh shit sorry, too tight?”

“Uh, no, actually it’s my--”

Peter’s stomach gave a piteously empty sounding rumble. He actually moved a hand away so that he could hold his belly, and I heard him give a slight hiss of pain. 

“…stomach,” he finished. “Sorry.”

“Quit saying you’re sorry for being hungry. It’s okay to be hungry, you’re not committing some awful crime.”

“I’m not?” 

“No, you’re not,” I let him go and leaned down so I could look him in the eye. “You’re just being a person. Just let me know when you’re hungry okay? Let me know when you need something, don’t wait until your stomach is ready to implode.”

“You… actually want me to tell you when I’m hungry?”

“Yes. Tell me anything and everything kid, just tell me. Don’t wait until you’re hurting. All that stuff that your aunt said is wrong. You can tell me you’re tired, you can be mad and sad and happy whenever you have to be, you can get something to eat or go to sleep without anyone’s permission, you can cry if you need to. You don’t have to wait for me to say it’s okay to be whatever you need to be.”

“But, I don’t know how to do that.”

“We can work on that.”

“We have a lot of stuff to work on,” he said miserably.

“We have a lot of time,” I said. I stood up straight and put my arm around his shoulders.

“Now, how about we get some food in that belly of yours? What the hell were you thinking trying to leave without breakfast? Or even a packed lunch for that matter?”

“I didn’t want to be annoying. And it’s not like I’ve never gone without breakfast before… Or lunch,” he said, fidgeting with his sleeves.

“Well from now on, you’re having at least three square meals every single day, no exceptions.”

“Three whole meals,” Peter whispered to himself. I decided not to comment; I don’t think he actually wanted me to hear that. 

“I made you breakfast,” I said. Peter looked up at me, eyes wide and mouth parted.

“You did?” he said, his voice going up an octave.

“You bet. How do you feel about eggs, toast, and bacon?” I said.

Peter swallowed and chewed his lip hungrily, his pupils dilated so wide his eyes looked more black than brown. His belly grumbled lowly again, and he clutched it, as though trying to drive the pain and noises away with his fist. Though of course, only food would be able to accomplish that. 

“Y-yes please,” he said in a high, trembling whisper. He sounded like he was about to cry again, so I ruffled his curls and lead him to the dining room. When he saw his plate a sob-like whine escaped his throat, and he hurried to the table, shoveling hot scrambled eggs into his mouth. 

I sat across from him and began eating too. I watched Peter carefully as he inhaled the pile of scrambled eggs, taking a few bites of toast and bacon, and a swig of milk every once in a while. He breathed heavily, with little whines of either relief or desperation between bites.

It broke my heart.

It was only after a couple minutes that Peter slowed down enough for me to talk to him.

“Hey Pete, you didn’t happen to get hungry in the middle of the night, did you?” I asked. 

Peter froze, looked at me, then looked away nervously. 

“How did you know?”

I gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Lucky guess. Your stomach wouldn’t stop growling, you sounded like you were going to cry when I said I made you breakfast, and you’re eating at a hundred miles per hour now.”

Peter turned red, and put down the strip of bacon he was eating, as though he were going to stop. 

“Oh no, I didn’t mean for you to stop, I wasn’t trying to shame you,” I said quickly. “Please, keep eating if you’re hungry. I just meant that you must be starving because of your metabolism.”

Peter picked up the bacon again, looking a little relieved, and then he nodded. 

“Yeah, I got hungry last night, at like two am or something… My stomach woke me up cuz it hurt,” he mumbled.

I almost swore out loud but hid it behind a rather aggressive sounding cough. If Steve were here he’d be proud I managed not to cuss in front of a kid for once.

“And I imagine you didn’t get up to get something to eat, did you?” I continued. Peter shook his head. 

“I… I didn’t want to wake you up. I mean, Aunt May could almost always hear me if I tried to get something in the middle of the night cuz the fridge made this loud squeaking noise, though sometimes I could flip up onto the ceiling before she caught me. And…” Peter trailed off, turning red again.

“What is it?” I said. 

“Well I couldn’t steal from you, could I? Tony freaking Stark gives you a place to stay and you go raid his fridge like you own the place? I couldn’t do that!” Peter distracted himself by biting into another slice of toast. 

I sighed. It was exactly as I suspected. He’d just gone back to sleep with his belly rumbling and cramping without a second thought. 

“Well, I, Anthony Edward Stark--”

“Your middle name is Edward like the vampire--”

“--Give you full permission, to-- How did you put it? ‘Raid my fridge like you own the place,’” I said, taking a bite of my own eggs. “Any time. Day or night. Make all the noise you want. Hell, you can come into my room, or the lab, or even in the middle of a business meeting and start chucking food at me if you’d like, I don’t care.”

Peter laughed, and it made my metal heart swell to hear the sound. A genuine, happy laugh.

Up until now, it seems he’d been too hungry or tired to be happy, but now that he’d been fed and rested, he was returning to the cheerful boy I knew.

Well, the cheerful boy I thought I knew. I thought he lived in a good home, I thought his Aunt was a perfectly fine woman, I thought he had enough. Enough food, enough sleep, enough love, enough to be truly happy.

But, as yesterday’s events showed, he’s never had enough. And, I’ve realized, he still doesn’t quite have enough now. Specifically, enough to wear. All his clothes got stolen, meaning the clothes he’s wearing now are the only ones that he has.

“Pete, do you want to see if we can get your clothes back? I could check the security cameras and see exactly who took them--”

“No,” Peter interrupted. 

“Really?” I said. “Why?”

“I um… It’s really hard out there,” he said through a bite of eggs. “I was only homeless for a week and I still had some of my own stuff. There’s a ton of people out there who don’t have anything. For now, I’m assuming someone stole my clothes because they needed them. They didn’t even touch my tent, they could’ve stolen that too, but they didn’t. 

“And I mean, most of those didn’t fit anyway. The only thing I would’ve been sad to lose is this shirt,” he said, plucking at the shirt on his chest, which read “If you believe in telekinesis, raise my right hand”. I privately thought Wanda would find it funny. “Ned and MJ got it for me for my birthday. It’s my favorite, I’m lucky I was wearing it yesterday.”

I was a bit surprised at his answer but didn’t argue. Even though he’s been hurt so much, he still cares more about the people than he does himself. 

“Well then, looks like we’ll have to go shopping soon,” I said, smiling at him over my glass of milk. “Get you some nice new clothes, ones that actually fit too.”

Peter suddenly looked a bit panicked again. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“…I’m not used to people buying me things. Makes me feel weird.”

“But what about your shirt? You were just saying--”

“That was different, it was my birthday, they would’ve felt bad if they didn’t get me something, so it was okay. But now you’re just buying me stuff all willy-nilly--”

“It’s not ‘willy-nilly’, you need clothes. You’re not being spoiled, you’re just being given the things you need,” I said. I reached across the table and put my hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay to let yourself be taken care of. Let me take care of you, that’s what I’m here for. I’m here to help you, not to tolerate you.”

Peter still didn’t look convinced, but didn’t argue.

He finished the last of his food, except the Hulk bar, though when I came back from clearing my plate, the bar was nowhere in sight.

Peter was actually curled in on himself, his knees pulled up to his chest, his arms crossed behind his legs and hugging his belly. If he weren’t smiling so widely, I would’ve thought he was in pain. 

“Underoos? Whatcha doin’ over there?”

“My stomach doesn’t hurt!” he chirped. “It’s warm. Feels nice.” He hugged himself closer, closing his eyes as though he were snuggling into a blanket.

I laughed. 

“You’re like a kitten or something. Curling around itself,” I said.

“I’m alright with being a kitten,” Peter said, opening his eyes. “Kittens are awesome, not the worst thing you could be.” Then after a moment, “Arguably, it’s the best thing you could be. New goal in life: become a kitten.”

“Not a bad goal kid. Not a bad goal,” I said. 

Peter snorted before glancing at the plates on the table. He suddenly uncurled himself, picking up all the dishes and walking to the sink. He snatched up a sponge and started rinsing off all the dishes and scrubbing them.

“Kid, you know I have machines to do that for me right?”

“Oh yeah, but it’s the least I could do for you! You’re letting me live here, I gotta repay you somehow. I was thinking I would clean the living room later, then sweep and mop the lab, and then maybe--” 

“Kid…” I turned off the sink and he looked at me curiously. “You don’t have to feel guilty for anything.”

“What? I don’t feel guilty! I’m all good!” he said a little too cheerfully. 

“You do. You don’t have to try and repay me, all I’m doing is giving you what you deserve.”

“No, you’re doing a lot more than that!” Peter said, looking at me as though I wasn’t giving myself enough credit.

“Kid, all I’ve done so far is give you shelter, rest, food, and the promise of new clothes.”

“Yeah!” he said, like I was proving his point.

“Those are just basic needs kiddo. You think that I’m spoiling you or that you’re getting more than you deserve, but you’re not.”

Peter frowned, and looked back at the dishes. I slowly put my hand on his wrist, and pulled him away from the sink. Peter dried off his hands and then started fiddling with his sleeves as I told Friday to have a suit do the dishes.

“Hey, it’s alright,” I said, turning back to Peter who was still frowning and fidgeting with his sleeves.

“Yeah, I guess. I just… I suppose I do feel guilty. I don’t feel like I deserve any of this.”

“Well you do. You deserve all the good things. You might not know that right now, but we can work on that.”

“Okay. We can work on that,” he said. He leaned forward and held up his arms, and I wrapped my own around him, holding him tightly to my chest.

Safe.

“Hey, I don’t feel like working in the lab today. Do you want to go watch something? Anything you want,” I said.

“Anything I want?” Peter repeated, looking up, his eyes alight with excitement. 

“That’s what I said.”

“…Even Batman?”

“Haha! Even Batman. You go get it set up, I’ll be there in a sec,” I said. Peter let me go and flipped onto the couch, the remote bouncing conveniently into his lap.

I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a Hulk bar (Maybe I should call them Spidey Bars since Bruce is nowhere to be found), and put it in my pocket in case he needed it for later--oh my god I’m a mom--and then tossed a packet of popcorn in the microwave. A few seconds in the first kernel popped and I heard Peter gasp.

“ARE YOU MAKING POPCORN!?” he shouted from around the corner.

“Um, yeah?” I called back. 

There was a loud thump from above, and then Peter appeared from around the corner, crawling across the ceiling towards the microwave.

“Jeez, are you still hungry? You should’ve told me!” I said.

“Oh no, I’m not really, I promise, I just like watching the popcorn bag get all puffed up,” he said, standing upside down and pressing his nose to the window of the microwave.

I laughed and turned to pour myself a fresh cup of coffee, when I saw something white peeking out from the underside of the table. I glanced back at Peter to see him still occupied by the popcorn bag, then quickly went to the table and peered under it.

There was Peter’s Hulk bar (Spidey Bar?) from breakfast, webbed to the underside of the table. 

Something flashed in the back of my mind and I saw Steve Rogers putting a container of day-old Chinese food in his sock drawer to save it for later, no doubt fingerprints left on him by the Great Depression. 

I leave the bar under the table. Peter would be embarrassed if I called attention to it, and he might panic if it’s moved. Steve was the same.

Peter and Steve have a lot more in common than I thought. Both superheroes, both with enhanced metabolisms, both growing up without enough food, both habitually hiding food for later, and of course, both rather good at pretending they are 100% A-okay. 

If Cap were here he could help Peter a lot more than I could. 

But he’s not, he’s out somewhere doing who-knows-what with Nat and Wanda and Metal Arm Guy and who the hell else he seems to have recruited into his little group. People have taken to calling them the Rogue Avengers, a rather fitting name I might add. 

I stood up and touched the phone he gave me in my pocket. I’m a little ashamed to say I keep it with me all the time. Maybe I should call him. Not to unite the Avengers again necessarily, but to see if he can help the kid. He may be an idiot but he’s a good person, a better man than me. 

If Iron Man can’t help Peter, maybe Captain America can.

[apparitionism]

Mercury 11

This is basically just one scene. It was going to be more (and this scene was going to be better), but I’m being fussy about what follows it, so I figured some content, sooner, was better than more later. (Some previous content: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, and part 10.) I was additionally having a little hiccup of trouble figuring out exactly how to start this part... but “in the middle of things” is usually a good rule, particularly when the “things” in question are important, so “in medias pie” it is!

(P.S. to anon who asked about a masterpost: That’s too much housekeeping for me. But you’ll find I’m diligent with tags, plus my tumblr has search and an archive, so you shouldn’t have to scroll too much. Also, much of my stuff can indeed be found on AO3, where I move it after posting on Tumblr, usually with copy and/or content edits, depending on what seems warranted. Thanks for asking!)

Mercury 11

“But this pie,” Myka said with her mouth full.

“Has rendered you ill-mannered and inarticulate,” Helena said. “Interesting.”

“And here I thought demolishing cars was gonna be the entertainment,” Pete added.

They all had to work hard to be heard over the soundtrack provided by the derby: the roar of engines, the sharp bang and crunch of metal colliding with metal at speed, the shouts of extremely invested spectators. Myka had been paying some attention to it before she embarked on this trip to pastry-girded key-lime paradise. She hadn’t had any idea that bliss was in fact a combination of citrus and... whatever other things it was combined with, here in this very-nearly-literal slice-of-heaven pie, but Pete was right: this had been a really educational trip.

Ida said, “This is closer to what I’d call a show.”

“Here in Wisconsin?” Pete asked.

“Anywhere. Is she always like this about pie?”

“I’ve only known her five years,” Pete said, “but I think it’s safe to go with ‘never in her life has she been like this about pie.’ Or maybe anything.”

“Well,” Helena began.

“Don’t say it,” Pete advised.

Ida temporized, “She doesn’t need to. Everyone understands innuendo. And subtext.”

Myka didn’t care, not even a little—not about the kind of show she was putting on, not about how innuendo-y and subtext-y Helena was getting with regard to what Myka might find heavenly in other contexts—as long as nobody took this miracle of a pie away.

She certainly hadn’t expected this to be the outcome when she, Helena, and Pete had taken the lengthy walk—thankfully, in their normal configuration, with Myka reclaiming her “run interference” slot between Helena and Pete—to the site of the demolition derby, some distance away from the fairgrounds proper, accompanied by what had seemed like an additional fair’s worth of people. Were these things really so popular? Maybe Pete was right, maybe “the IRS” should sponsor one in Univille. For purposes of general sociability, because for all Myka didn’t like the place, she did still care what its denizens thought of her, and if—“Bet these’re cow pastures in real life,” Pete had said, interrupting her speculation. That prompted Myka to start taking careful note of where she was placing her feet during that long walk along not a path as such, but rather through grass that had been marked at irregular intervals with spray-painted arrows.

“You’re so prissy,” Pete said.

Myka shrugged that off. “Maybe. But cows. Or rabbits. Nobody with sense in their head want to walk in anything they leave behind.”

Helena said, to Pete, “Are you as unnerved by bovines as you are by lagomorphs?”

As a dig, it seemed mild, even polite, but Pete reacted as if she’d reached across Myka and slapped him. “Leave me alone! I’m not scared of anything unless it’s freakishly huge!”

They were passing the cars’ inspection area: the same spray paint had been applied to a piece of plywood, leaning against a fence enclosing those cars, to spell “INSP AREA.” It could have meant “inspiration area,” Myka supposed, but people with clipboards had seemed to be inspecting rather than inspiring, or being inspired... she tried to think of another word that began with “insp.” Nothing came to her.

“Size-wise,” she told Pete, “the bumpers on that Sable over there must be giving you nightmares already.”

Pete looked where she’d indicated. He did a cartoon double-take. “Are those even legal? I think I just found my horse.”

“I like the Pinto next to it,” Myka said.

He scoffed, “Nobody likes a Pinto.”

“The ponies enjoyed a brief vogue when I was a girl,” Helena mused, as if to herself. “Would that the car were painted like those...it’s a shame that a pinto—and, in fact, a sable—shouldn’t resemble their namesake animals in some way.”

Myka said, “I guess we can call my Pinto a Palomino, then. The color’s why I like it.”

“That’s not a good reason,” Pete said. “Not for a demo derby.”

“It’s a great reason. Look.” Myka pointed toward a corral ringed with bleachers. “There’s a lot of mud over there, where I assume they’ll do the demolishing, right?”

Pete nodded. “Mud slows ’em down. Safer, plus it’s a better show. Upset it’s gonna be such a messy show, Miss Prissy?”

“My point is, the Pinto’s yellow, so I’ll be able to keep track of it through the muck, while it does its demo-ing. Or gets demo-ed. As I watch it happen, because I’ve got a horse—almost literally—too. Do you want me interested or not?”

He glanced at the Pinto, then looked back at Myka. “Not sure,” he said, like he thought she was trying to trick him.

“You wanted us here so bad you won it,” she reminded him.

“Mostly wanted to make you suffer.”

“Then I think your win is more of a ‘win,’ because I refuse to suffer,” Myka told him. “Not about this.”

She was holding Helena’s hand. She had been, for the entire walk, “because I didn’t get to on the Ferris wheel,” she’d said when she first reached for the contact, her voiced reason in response to Helena’s questioning did-you-not-recently-express-objection-to-public-displays eyebrow, and it was true as far as it went. But what had compelled Myka to make the small display, really, was that she’d needed something, and this was simple. Uncomplicated. Something to bank against whatever was going to happen later, in the hotel room. Which she was, she had to admit to herself, doing some pre-suffering about. Because she didn’t know.

Helena declared, as if to assure Myka that she too felt both the simplicity and the need for it,  “I’m not suffering either. Not about this.”

She gripped Myka’s hand tighter. It did feel good. Myka echoed the pressure, and one corner of Helena’s mouth curved up.

Pete rolled his eyes. “You two are gonna wish so hard that Myka won that duck bet.”

“It was a bet that concerned ducks?” Helena asked.

Myka grimaced. “I’ll tell you later.”

“I wonder,” Helena said, jauntily, “whether the poultry competition might include a Rouen or two.”

“I’m gonna regret this, but: okay. That’s a...?” Pete prompted.

“Giant mallard,” Helena said, with even greater cheer. Pete groaned, and Myka found herself wanting to kiss Helena: for being clever, but also as yet another instance of that bankable, uncomplicated touch. She almost said that out loud—“I want to kiss you,” simple, like that—but she understood that if she did, she’d have to deal with Pete about it. Because of ducks.

“Well, I don’t see any of your probably-made-up freak-ducks around,” Pete said. He added a taunt of, “I do see the two of you practically sittin’ in a tree, though.”

“Mature,” Myka said.

“Water off a Rouen’s back!” Helena announced.

Her insouciance made Myka again want contact, like a kiss, but more than that—but still simple. Basic. The most basic.

Pete must have seen and read that thought as it crossed Myka’s mind, crossed her face, for he said, “Jesus, Mykes, just jump her and get it over with. Get yourselves behind the bleachers and take care of business.”

Nobody had taken care of any behind-the-bleachers business, of course, but Myka had kept on holding Helena’s hand, even as they sat on the uncomfortable aluminum of those bleachers and listened to engines rev in preparation for entering the corral. Pete had taken it upon himself to explain the derby’s rules to Helena: “...and they all go in and they have to hit another car every minute, or maybe it’s every two, but anyway if your engine bonks out you get a little while to try to restart it but if you can’t you’re out, and they break that piece of wood by your window to show that you...” Myka listened with one ear, but mostly she concentrated on not finding a reason to loosen her clasp. The interlacing of their fingers had moved from “this feels good” to Helena’s barely fleshed bones pressing too solid against Myka’s, giving rise to an uncomfortable ache... but that ache was no reason to let go; rather, it was a reminder not to. Bodies, real ones, felt pain. So Myka sat on aluminum, listening to engines rev, not letting go. Banking it.

She’d been banking it, still, when Ida arrived, asking, “How did we ever live without the ability to text?” (Pete had said, as they sat down, that he would text Ida to join them, “because maybe she’s done with judgy-judge-judge and can bring us some leftovers.”) She’d looked at Myka and Helena—specifically, looked at their joined hands. “Well,” she said. “Another distraction?”

“Maybe,” Myka acknowledged. From something freakishly huge...

“How are you?” Ida asked Helena. “Did your summit go well?”

Helena smiled at the word. “As well as such a thing could. I suppose one might call the outcome détente,” she said. Myka, too, had smiled a little at “summit,” but as for “détente”... well, there was a lot to be said for that in the relations between several of her nearest and dearest. But she wasn’t sure how she felt about the idea of any relaxing of tensions between Helena and Emily Lake’s girlfriend. “It’s been a very strange two days,” Helena went on to say.

“That isn’t news to me,” Ida said, which prompted in Myka another Amen, sister. Ida added, “But I’ve got something that will make everything better.”

“Fruit spreads?” Pete asked, with great hope. He pointed at the small hamper she held. “That looks like something.”

Ida nodded. “Something. But better than fruit spreads.” From the hamper, she produced—with a “ta-da!”—the key lime pie. Pete gave a gasp that Myka judged both overdramatic and unwarranted; it was just a pie, albeit one that nearly matched her Pinto for color; if she’d thrown it at the car, no one would have noticed the spatter, not that she was in the habit of throwing pies at cars. This one hadn’t been thrown at anything, but it did look a little the worse for having traveled in close quarters: not show quality anymore. Given the crumbled edges of its crust and slightly dented surface, it might have been any pie at all. Ida then handed out plastic forks and paper plates, and if anyone near them in the stands around the fenced patch of mud recognized the picnic as larcenous, they kept it to themselves.

Pete took his fork up with his usual enthusiasm, dug in, took a bite, then closed his eyes. “This pie is freaking awesome. In an ‘I could literally die now’ way.”

“I told you, you literally can’t beat it,” Ida said.

While Myka had respected that particular “literally” when Ida said it yesterday, she wasn’t sure she believed it today in any kind of existential sense. Hence her astonishment when she found her own first bite to be... was “rapturous” outsize, as a word or an idea, to apply to the experience of eating pie? It didn’t matter what word she used, though; she wielded her fork with even more gusto than Pete, and she felt a niggling worry that this was, for her, unseemly, yet the combination of the unprecedented pie and the certainty that it was nutritious was irresistible. The mouthfeel alone was enough to knock her out—unctuous, yet with a sharp slash of lime-presence tanging on the tongue... she’d noticed Helena ignoring her own serving so as to watch Myka. “What?” Myka had asked. “It’s good for me.”

“I am prepared to offer to any and all attending deities,” Helena had said, amusement animating her face, “my prayer that your recently espoused belief does not wear off.”

“I’m prepared to livestream it so everybody on the planet can testify later that it happened,” Pete had enthused. “Also so Claud’s head explodes when she sees it.”

And so it was that the only words Myka had managed to come up with in her own defense, “But this pie,” had caused everyone to express even more opinions in the matter.

Fortunately, however, they let her keep eating. “I feel like I’m somebody else, how much I’m enjoying this,” she now said, not bothering to pause before scooping up another forkful.

“Interesting,” Helena said again, and her tone told Myka that something was waiting to be interrogated there... but she was extremely unwilling to turn her attention away from the pie.

Meanwhile, the cars destroyed each other. None of it mattered to pie-intoxicated Myka, except the Pinto, a little, because she could in fact keep track of it in the muck. It was surprisingly agile, “her” Pinto. Or Palomino. And if the derby had engaged only her eyes, that would have been fine, but exhaust and mud and the crowd’s sweaty enthusiasm hung heavy in the air, congesting her nose and clogging her lungs; she resented that it interfered with her experience of the pie. Its rich citrus viscosity was similarly condensed, on her tongue, but far more pleasurable... but wait, she thought, thickness... a dictionary-page memory... “fr. L in- + spissus slow, dense”: “Inspissate!” she exclaimed.

Pete and Ida both said “What?” and Myka looked up from her plate, ready to explain about “insp” and areas—but her neon pony caught her eye at just the right, or wrong, instant for her to witness its driver’s failure to recognize a danger for what it was: it received in that moment a dramatic T-boning from a seemingly unthreatening even-more-compact car. She yelped and upended her plate, which landed face down on the aluminum at her feet. It had held one last bit of inspissated key lime and... whatever else it was combined with, a last bit that she’d told herself she wanted to savor, but that she’d in all honesty been about to shovel into her mouth with abandon. She made a decision that was really no decision: she lifted the plate, scraped the spattered filling up with her fork, and willed herself not to think about dirt.

“Not one word,” she said, her mouth again full, to Pete and Helena. “Not one word out of either of you.”

Neither said anything. Myka chose to ignore their thunderstruck expressions, because she still had that precious morsel of pie in her mouth.

“Good choices,” Myka told them once she’d swallowed. She licked her fork. She took note of Helena’s expression as it shifted from shock to avid appreciation of her licking her fork.

TBC

Again, minimal tags, but here, an essay might mention things like strongly held beliefs, and how our strongly held beliefs shape our behavior, and why we so strongly hold the beliefs that shape our behavior, and that it is indeed interesting when a shift in belief (about anything: from sugar’s nutritional value to who we actually are) leads us to engage in behaviors that make us strangers to ourselves—regardless of whether we know of that estrangement at the time it’s occurring. When you think about it, in terms of selfhood, each of us might be said to be a cult with exactly one member. (I realize that doesn’t entirely hold up, but I’ve spent a little while thinking about it.)

[tarithenurse]

On my mind, in my soul - 11

Prompt:  Continuing the prompts from last chapter (just because I had written so much originally that it had to be split in two parts)…but I decided to chose a new song and got help from my hubby for that. Now the prompts are: “Dangerous” by Royal Deluxe, Asgard, Loki’s helmet. Pairing: Loki x Burglar!reader. Content: Swearing as usual (I think), the colour blue, a LOT of adult-only content! (avoid the itch - wrap the bitch) A/N: It’s been an absolute joy to watch the storm of demands for helmet-smut after the last chapter :) Please...if you like this chapter too, then reblog! Comment! Anything! Also...the art is obviously not made by me, because daymn!

Ready or not

Every ounce the man that drove you to temptation, Loki’s posture demands subjugation even if he must be weak still. Or maybe he isn’t? Studying the god, you notice a faint blue taint in his pale skin where raised markings are visible to any careful observer, proving that he’s putting on a show whether it’s for your benefit or not.

“I see you’ve been busy, my dear.” Moving his gaze to the golden headgear, there’s no doubt what he’s referring to. “I was…certain that chest had been locked…perhaps I was mistaken?”

His steps are careful, slow, but show no sign of strain as Loki walks to inspect the tools still lying by the chest. A hum reveals how impressed he is with what you’ve made do with, making you straighten up with ill-hidden pride. Adjusting his “crown” on your head, you consider the reflection in the mirror. Not bad. Sure, the dress is a bit odd in it’s foreign design, but the near-black purple silk that flows softly around your shape thanks to strategically placed golden ribbons. In fact, you decide, they match the horns very well. Flowy, long sleeves can easily hide the actions of your hands if needed, but that won’t be needed right now.

Turning fully towards Loki once more, you find him seated on the end of the bed. He’s been silently observing you as well, and a smirk hints that he likes the view.

“What brings you here?” you ask, crossing your arms below your bosom to push the breasts up towards the low neckline.

“These are my chambers,” the explanation is quiet, but his voice drops as he continues, “as are the contents.”

The low purr sends shivers through your body, and you know there won’t be anything you’ll refuse him even though you’re willing to play hard to get. “Is that so? I thought it was illegal to own people…at least I won’t be your slave.” ‘Cause I’m wearing the crown.

“My slave? No…you’ll attend to my needs of your own free will tonight,” he purrs deviously, “then we’ll see about the title later.”

“I may be benevolent…if you get undressed.”

Quirking and eyebrow, Loki doesn’t discuss the terms but merely waves a hand to magic his simple clothes away in a haze of gold and emerald, leaving him naked and very much at attention. Rarely one to ignore an impressive cock, your eyes are drawn to the semi-erection between the Asgardian’s thighs. Yes, you feel an aching need for it…but you want more than that, craving his touch everywhere on the skin. A hungry meeting of hot and cold. Past trails of kisses and love bites need renewing with a vigour that can only be found by those who nearly lost the way completely.

“Stroke yourself…my lord.”

He obeys without hesitation by grabbing the cock loosely, arm resting on the thigh as he sets a lazy pace without even once taking the eyes off you. Some incentive won’t go amiss. Reaching up under the dress, you find the delicate fabric of the underwear and pull it down. By the time it appears from under the skirts to pool around you ankles, Loki’s tongue is wetting his lips and his breathing has sped up. Moments later the tiny piece of clothing lands beside him on the bed.

“Move up to the headboard.”

Again, there’s no argument, and he’s rewarded by the golden sash that has held the dress tight around your waist. This one lands on the floor and is soon joined by the first layer of the dress (only leaving two more – Asgardian fashion is very different from temporary Earth-clothes). On his own, Loki has resumed the stroking but this time tighter, baring the dark cockhead each time his hand reaches the base. A bead of natural lubrication appears and is spread in a thin, glistening sheen.

This is how it's gonna be This is what you'll think of me

You pull at a few more ribbons, very slowly, before the most substantial part of the dress cascades off your shoulders. Gone are the flowy sleeves and the midnight-purple dabbled with gold, and you’re left in a thin shift in a ridiculously romantic lilac hue. You’d never have picked that yourself, but Loki approves, drinking in the vision of you.

“My dear,” the hushed longing transforms into the tell-tale purr, “had I know this would be my reward for sacrificing myself then I would not have waited so long.”

Head held high you cross the distance to the foot end of the bed. “Who says the reward is yours?”

You have to hold on to the horns perched precariously on your head as you climb onto the mattress, but as you settle down (kneeling or sitting on your heels) near Loki’s feet, it’s safe for you to occupy your hands elsewhere. Tracing every curve through the delicate fabric, you allow the god to admire what he can from afar. The pointed nipples are pinched and rolled through the almost transparent silk; waist is highlighted by broad strokes along the sides of the ribcage and across the stomach before  you roll your hips into your own palms.

A few feet away, Loki’s ragged breath is barely muted by the teeth he digs into the lower lip even though his hand has slowed. All he can do, it seems, is to hold on to whatever is near. His grasp on the Asgardian shape is failing, causing red to mingle with the normally bright colour of his iris while the blue shade reclaims his limbs by spreading from each ridge and marking.

Bunching the skirt up a bit, one of your hands disappears underneath it with a clear destination. Although the nimble movement of the fingers is nothing by a shadow underneath the rumpled fabric, you help Loki understand exactly what is happening by rolling your hips, guiding your own fingers between then slick folds. And you do nothing at all to mask the obscene sound produced each time a finger slips past the entrance to the core or the growing moans when you tease the clit.

“[Y/N]…” the god groans desperately.

“Yeah?”

Your other hand hasn’t been idle but working your breasts and nipples through the shift. Now you slide it down a thigh and begin to collect the fabric, pulling it upwards inch by inch. It’s torture for Loki. His cock is straining and leaking precum.

“Let me worship your gorgeous body.” The offer’s breathless, making you smirk at his attempt to hide the frustration.

“Don’t want to strain you,” you mumble.

Already kissing a path up his legs while trying to control the impractical headpiece, you whine as the golden horns are stolen for you. Looking up at Loki, however, you change your mind. Fuck me. Battling colours in eyes and skin takes absolutely nothing from the sight. Sex on legs? Sure. And confident, skilled temptation too. But with that thing on his head there’s no doubt in your heart that he does command you.

Straightening up on your knees, it’s a battle to pull the shift off slow enough to maintain some semblance of control. Don’t let him decide anything…else...It lands in a heap somewhere beyond the bed. Bending down to continue the path you’d started, the kisses and bites are only interrupted the few times you have to swat the impatient god’s hands away, each time earning a growl that does nothing but encourage you. You pay particularly good attention to Loki’s hipbones and sensitive area around the cock…but you don’t touch him there.

The balls get a slow lick (resulting in a tremulous gasp) before you move on up across his chest where each nipple get either a kiss of a bite, and by the time you’re indulging yourself with the neck and chiseled jaw, you’ve come to straddle Loki…but you still don’t touch his cock.

“[Y/N…]”

“Patience.”

And I'm about to make it clear It's going down like I told ya I'm the baddest mother up in here

Lips meet, tongues dance. It’s enough of a distraction that you can return a hand to your own sex, causing you to sigh into Loki’s mouth, and as cool hands caress your shoulders and back you realize just how easily the god would be able to push you over the edge.

“My pet.” Insisting arms are pulling you closer, a bigger hand nudging your to take over the sinful ministrations.

“I thin’,” you murmur through teeth pulling at his earlobe, “tha’ we’ve establi’ed I’m no’ ju’ your pet.”

Moving closer, tilting your hips is all it take to guide his throbbing cock between your slick folds until it’s glistening. A bonk from the headgear and a tremulous groan proves the effect it has on Loki. It’s all he can do, restraining himself from rutting into you, and you see the shimmer as his Asgardian shape threatens to fail.

“I wanna fuck you, Loki,” you purr, “don’t hide your perfections.”

His eyes snap open, red outside the blown blackness of lust, making you shiver with anticipation of this wilder side of him as he grows just a smidgen in all dimension while the skin takes on the Jotun characteristics that you’ve come to love.

“There we go.”

Sure, the praise makes him smile crookedly, but the expression changes to that of slack-jawed bliss the moment you begin to lower yourself onto his length. Fuuuuck. Thick, ridged, and cold, the intrusion send shiver rolling through your body and there’s no way to prevent how hard you clamp on to him with your pussy.

Slow at first, and with Loki’s hands tight on your hips for guidance, you ride the god to the verge of the first orgasm. It becomes difficult to maintain the dragging rhythm even with your hands wrapped around the horns for support until a breathy order tumbles from you lips and Loki keeps you in place while he thrusts into you. Hard and deep, the ridges seem to slide across your g-spot with a perfection you couldn’t attain on your own, and soon you’re gasping the god’s name as your cunt spasms and your womb shakes.

“Let m–“

“No!” You’re not done with him yet, raising high enough to release his cock from your hold before you collapse onto his chest. “Not yet.”

“Then allow me to taste you, m’lady.”

How can you say no to that? Rolling off of him, you barely have time to land before his tongue weaves between the shivering folds.

Shit. The moans Loki produces should be illegal, obscene in sound as he eagerly labs at you, there’s no doubt that he genuinely enjoys what he’s doing, and each satisfied hum and groan sends vibrations into your core and still-sensitive clit.

Guiding him by the horns, you bring his focus exactly where you need it. The cold might soothe the burning ache, but there’s no respite from the feverish pleasure rolling through you. A finger, then two and then three are added to the mix and this time he’s got you arching as you practically call out for him. High-pitched and ignorant of a world outside the bed.

“Lo-LoKII!”

You can feel him smile against your core. “Yes, m’lady?”

A cheeky idea pops into your head, and you smile down at his glistening face. “You’ve been so very good, my dear,” shivering subtly from the soaring ecstasy, a pleased sigh escapes you, “I’ll grant you a wish.”

Now that gets his attention. Prowling over your naked form, he reach far enough to explore your throat and jawline with his mouth before biting gently at your ear.

“A wish…” he ponders while sending new shivers down your spine, “I should like to take you on all four. My horns on your beautiful head to hold on to as I ram into your delicious quim.”

A deep kiss seals the deal, but before you turn around, he places the golden accessory on your head. Oh, it’s like that? A golden shimmer radiated like a halo around your skull and you feel the crown tighten until it fits perfectly.

“So…perfect.” Something else than lust burns in the red and black eyes as Loki takes you in.

Suddenly, he’s twisted you around and you scramble to find purchase against the intricately carved wood of the headboard as your god slams his cock deep into you, one hand digging its fingers into your butt cheek while the other grabs hold of one of the horns. The tug isn’t harsh, but it’s enough to force your head back and spine arching in a way that present your ass perfectly for him.

Gibberish. That’s all the words tumbling from your mouth are, but the moans and whimpers are easy enough to understand and they spur the man on.

You’re already keening from the impending bliss when a cold hand snakes around your hips to find the slippery folds and the tiny nerve bundle hidden away there. A few circular rubs is all it takes before you come undone, screaming silently with pleasure.

“My…qu-queennn!”

Cold and hot liquids mix within you, taking away your attention from the sharp bite on your shoulder. Moments later, the two of you have collapsed in an ungraceful heap of tangled limbs and sloppy kisses. Somehow the golden horns disappear on their own.

“I’m gonna…gonna wear that more…often,” you manage to gasp.

The arm that ensnares you and pulls you close is still blue. Big and strong and absolutely perfect like the chest you snuggle against.

“But now we sleep, my dear.”

Get ready cos here I come I'm about to come and get me some Hot as a smoking gets

[chrismerle]

Action Romp Part TWO

more of the action romp with Shai and @nicxan‘s Dan. I think what I’m gonna do is post a finished part once I make some decent headway on the next part. so yeah, there’s a part 3 in the works.

also here’s part one.

(and here’s a low-key reminder that I have a ko-fi.)

There are a few details about the attack. The ship was a Polythreme build, but the modifications were more London's style. There had been Unfinished Men on the crew, but it had primarily consisted of humans. They hadn't been close enough to Polythreme or to London to say definitively that the ship had come from one or the other or somewhere else entirely.

The ship had been called The Maker's Hand.

That, at least, was enough for Dan to at least get started. Besides, he appreciated having something to actual focus on. He left Shai to tinker with the shifting mechanism--though when he had reluctantly walked away it had sounded more like they were dismembering the poor thing--and made their way back up to the deck. The gangplank had finally been lowered, and the crew members that were less helpful in patching the damage had disembarked to start carting goods to the Bazaar.

Dan lingered for a moment to make sure nothing else was going to happen before he carried on, from the deck to the docks and to the tavern. It seemed like the easiest place to start looking for Clay Men that might have some idea of what was going on.

Even so, it wasn't such a straightforward matter. Most of the Clay Men he questioned had never even heard of the ship.

There was one, though, that seemed promising. One that had clearly heard of The Maker's Hand, but he didn't want to say anything about the situation. Whatever the situation was. On a lark, Dan threatened to start crying if he didn't figure out who had tried to destroy his ship, and the Clay Man conceded, "IN THE CLAY QUARTERS. GRANITE. HE KNOWS OF THE MAKER."

Granite. Very original. Regardless, at least it was another lead. (And who was the Maker? Other than, presumably, someone with some ego issues.)

Dan hadn't spent much time in the Clay Quarters. After the…ordeal with the Comtessa, he hadn't exactly been chomping at the bit to go back. But if it's to figure out who wants to sink his baby, then he can do it.

It turns out to be surprisingly painless. The Clay Men that guard the way are, if he's not mistaken, the same ones that guarded the way the last time. And they are wary about letting him pass, but unwilling to bar his entry. He's there for several hours, asking questions of any of the Clay Men who seem nautically inclined and any of the Unfinished Men who seem unlikely to try to bash his brains in if they know of any Granite.

All so he can learn that Granite left the Clay Quarters a few hours before, and he sort of wants to beat his head against either a wall or the nearest Clay Man. But the nearest Clay Man is being helpful, so he keeps that urge in check. In his experience, they get a bit distressed when people start being particularly weird at them.

"THE FORGOTTEN QUARTER, PERHAPS. MUCH HAPPENS THERE THAT DOES NOT HAPPEN…ELSEWHERE."

Well, it's not exactly the airtight case that Dan was hoping for, but it's somewhere else to go. He bonks the side of one fist against his forehead and sighs. "Right. Of course. Thanks."

The Clay Man watches him warily for another moment before he decides, "I WILL ESCORT YOU BACK."

Dan takes it to mean that he's overstayed his welcome, so it's a good thing he's on his way out. Granted, he doesn't know quite enough about the Forgotten Quarter to risk a confrontation there on his own.

Luckily for him, he knows someone considerably better acquainted with the ruins than he is.

--

"Are you still here?"

Shai nearly jumps out of their skin when Dan asks the question, wrenching themself out of the mechanism casing just in time to avoid smashing their head against the top of it.

"Sorry." Dan is not, actually, particularly sorry, and the way Shai looks like a frizzed out owl when they're startled is honestly never going to get old.

They blink at him behind their goggles for a moment before pointing out slowly, "It's not exactly a one night job here, Danny."

"Well, yeah," he agrees. "I just sort of figured you'd--you know what, never mind. I need your help with something."

Shai brightens and straightens up. "What sort of help?"

"I…might need to get into a fight in the Forgotten Quarter."

There's a beat as they ponder this statement, before they sigh out, "I'll go get my rifle," and start moving.

"Thanks!" Dan calls after them before loping off to grab his knife and his knuckledusters.

--

Dan likes Shai's birds. They don't speak much--or at least not to him--but they're friendly enough. Even if he suspects one of them is remarkably stupid.

That's not the one perched on his shoulder at that moment, though. The one perched on his shoulder is Daeva, and much of the dreamy brightness in her eyes has been replaced with clear focus for the time being. She shifts restlessly on his shoulder and clicks her beak as Dan picks through the rubble.

He has a clear goal, at least. Granite sort of stands out, being a three meter behemoth pacing through the ruins. He's waiting for someone, clearly, but Dan doesn't actually want to stick around to see who. (The Maker? Whoever the fuck that is. Arrogant git.)

Dan approaches cautiously, knife in his dominant hand and knuckledusters on his off hand. If he's lucky, he won't actually need to use them, but he's not taking any chances.

Granite sees him coming with plenty of time, and he seems impatient more than anything else. Also he's clearly never had any lessons in tact or smalltalk, as the first thing he says once he's decided Dan is close enough is, "THE WIND SHOULD HAVE SUNK YOU."

"I'm very stubborn," Dan returns earnestly. "And I sort of figure at least someone owe's me an explanation."

There is a grinding noise, and Dan sort of suspects it's supposed to be a laugh, but he isn't sure if he's ever heard a Clay Man or an Unfinished Man laugh. "YOU CANNOT HURT ME WITH THAT." He points derisively at the knife.

Daeva preens a strand of Dan's hair for a moment, clicks her beak decisively, and lets out a croaky, echoing caw. It bounces off the ruins and the statues, and is followed almost immediately by the crack of a gunshot.

Granite stumbles back a step when the shot rips through his shoulder, sending crumbles of clay tumbling down to the ground. He blinks down at the mess in bemusement.

"They're over a block away," Dan explains pleasantly. "Pretty sure they can take your head off before you find them." He reaches up to stroke a finger under Daeva's beak, and his expression turns expectant. "So, can we just talk about this like civilized people?"

There's a rather pregnant pause, and Dan can practically see the gears turning as Granite weighs his loyalty to whatever the cause is (or at least to whatever the cause is paying him). And finally, he says, "I DO NOT KNOW THE MAKER'S PLAN. BUT YOU WILL FIND THEM ON AUTUMARCH ATOLL. YOU CAN ASK THEM YOURSELF."

Slowly, Dan nods, and he begins backing away, unwilling to turn his back on Granite just yet. It's only once he's out of arm's reach that he turns and breaks into a jog, back towards the edge of the Forgotten Quarter. He finds Shai sitting on the teashop's roof, idly kicking their legs off of the overhang and leaning on their rifle.

"Well?"

"We need to go back to the Sea of Voices," he reports, scowling before he can help it. "It's just…going to take a while before we can."

"Oh, please, Danny," they scoff, leaning over the edge enough to look at him properly. "The Citadel may be in rough shape, but she's not the only ship; we can use mine."