#(also I am still alive! I am just slow and my focus is all over the place)

[golden-king-midas]

You seem surprised at it but you truly do not have to be. Ever since I have met you I saw what a great leader you are and how well you care for your subjects. It is good to know you have someone by your side that will look out for you just as much. *warm smile* These are wonderful news, Don. I am happy for you, my friend. You truly deserve all the good that is happening to you.

alright wastelanders, what do you all think of my glorious monster form? hopefully you are intimidated!

[idyllcy]

baby, you can find me under the lights

word count: 9.1k

warnings: slow burn, mentions of drugs

summary: Ah, it feels good to be loved.

Hard. This is. Hard.

Jaime stumbles over his words as Khaji Da warns him for his spike in heartbeat, his head spinning as you stare up at him, blinking owlishly. You look pretty. Seriously, you look gorgeous. He's stumbling over his words just to ask you where his building was. It wasn't even as if he was asking for your number! Seriously, do people like you even exist—

You tilt your head at him, blinking.

asking you to repeat yourself.

nevermind. you do.

"Ah, uh, dios mio—" He pauses. "do you know where the school of biology is? It's my first day here, and—"

You point at the building on the other side, and Jaime sighs. "Oh my god. I'm stupid, so sorry—"

You wave your hand dismissively, smile on your face.

smile holds no menace. seeming to say 'me too'

"Thank you, but really—"

You raise a brow at him.

"Not you. Well, thank you, yes, but not the latter part." He sighs. "I've had a long morning."

You wave bye to him as you rush off into the building.

"Is she mute?"

no signs of vocal cord damage

"So she just." Jaime glances down at his watch, cursing as he realizes he's about to be late to class. "I'll ignore it. Put a tab on her."

got it. unusually high levels of dopamine and adrenaline detected in bloodstream.

"Ignore it." Jaime mumbles. "I just think she's cute."

In retrospect, Jaime has no idea why he would need to keep a tab on you, but he finds it especially helpful when he's met face to face with who the scarab calls you, except it's not really you, it's some person with flamboyant makeup drawn over their face, and Khaji Da insists it's you. All Jaime can notice is how you're a metahuman, a voice as honeyed as a siren's. He shakes his head to try and break free of your voice.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" You tilt your head at him, setting him down as you soar back to the supervillain. His jaw stays open before he closes it, realizing the situation.

"Khaji."

a metahuman

"Well, I can't have her fight alone, can I?" Jaime sighs as his armor clasps on, flying next to you, lending you a hand as he blocks a punch. "Having trouble?"

"Appreciate the help." You smile, landing a kick to the villain's face, stepping on it as you send him into the ground. The back of your heel causes a crack to ring and the man's face to cave in, and Jaime stares, eyes wide as Khaji Da tells him that the man's alive and has a high chance of survival. "Are you visiting? Does my city owe a member of the Justice League something?"

"No," Jaime shakes his head. "I... I live here now. I just moved."

"You... alright." You mumble. "For all I know, you could be moving here for retirement."

"Hey, I am not that old." Jaime gasps. "I'm—"

Khaji Da stops him before he can reveal his age. A smarter choice. Jaime really needs to fix his blurting problem.

You raise a brow at him, leaning closer, tilting your head. "You're...?"

"Uh, top secret information." He smiles, trying his best to focus on your face and not the way you were practically sticking on him. It was bad enough that he thought you were cute. He did not need another reason for being head over heels in love with you. Seriously, he's not the type for love at first sight, what kind of witchery do you have?!

You huff, leaning back. "Alright. You do you."

"Are there many villains here?"

"Not really. Just pigface here." You point at the man under you. "Though, you'll probably bring in your fair share of supervillains, huh?"

"I don't have that many."

"Still have some." You hum. "Alright. See you around, beetle boy. I wouldn't recommend sticking around. The police kinda hate us."

Jaime looks at the unconscious man as you fly. "Wait, do we—"

The police arrive as he's cut off, and he races off himself. He did not want a bullet shot at him, but he also did not want to deal with the police so early on in a new city. That could be saved for some time that wasn't right now.

Besides, he has his bio seminar to get to. Seriously, what is with him and arriving late to class?

Turns out, Jaime bumps into you much more than he thinks is coincidental.

First, the two of you bump into each other at the cafeteria, then the two of you meet at the library, then at the gym, and then you share a building at the dorms? Seriously, what is with the two of you and meeting? At this point he might as well call one of you a stalker, and it is most certainly not him. He doesn't think it's you either, especially with how unnerved you are while bumping into him. All you do is wave hello with a small smile and head the other way. Seriously, he was looking creepy. You were cute, he did NOT want to be scaring you off before he could even befriend you. Besides, it's not like his body is— it's... Khaji Da, isn't it.

"¿hermano, la estás acosando?" Jaime mumbles to the scarab. boy, are you stalking her?

I don't know what you're talking about

"'kay, can we cut it down? Seriously, I'd like to not see her every day."

I thought you liked her.

"Thinking someone is cute does not equate to liking them." He groans, swiping his student ID to get his lunch.

I am simply creating more opportunities for the two of you to meet

"Can you not control my body for something like this?" He takes his salad, running a hand through his hair as he crashes into someone. "Oh, I am sosorry—"

You blink up at him, shaking your head.

she says it's fine

"Are you sure? Let me know if I can do anything to make it up to you, really." Jaime nods.

You wave your hand, dismissing him as you head upstairs to find an empty table.

increased heart rate detected

"Oh, dios, please be quiet." Jaime rushes out of the cafeteria, embarrassment all over his face, cheeks flushed with blood.

As he reaches his dorm, he hears the sound of something going off almost comically, and he freezes. Didn't you mention that there weren't many supervillains other than the guy that was arrested recently? Come on.

The cafeteria you were just at. No signs of human damage. The girl is fighting.

Jaime sets his salad down, opening the window, and jumping out, his suit sending him straight to the cafeteria, blasting a piece of wood out of the way as your hand finds itself around the man's throat as Jaime sets down next to you.

"I thought you said there weren't many supervillains here?" Jaime's arm shifts into a taser as he presses it to the man, knocking him out.

"But plenty of frustrated college students." You smile at him. "this one tried bombing the building."

Jaime blinks.

heartbeat steady. Not lying.

"What's your name, by the way?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, beetle boy." You roll your eyes.

"Do you not have a name?"

You tilt your head at him. "And if I do?"

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Who knows. Maybe you'll commit identity fraud." You smile, tapping his chest twice. "Though, you seem a little too tall to steal my identity."

"I won't, so could I please know the name of the partner I'll be working with to fight crime?" Jaime holds his hand out for you, leaning down slightly to stare at you.

"Kinda hard to tell sincerity through those gorgeous yellow eyes of yours, beetle." You give him your hand anyway, shaking it. "Unidentified. Though, the police like calling me Euterpe."

"Like the greek muse?"

"Yeah. In charge of music and stuff." You shrug. "You're just blue beetle because of the suit, huh?"

"Yeah." He pauses. "Are the police coming?"

"They always are." You hum. "Two minutes, maybe."

"How do they know when you don't call?"

"I don't need to." You tilt your head slightly. You point at the students outside the building that Jaime had passed. "They do."

"Are you the school mascot or something?"

"Time's up." You smile. "Alright beetle boy, time to get going."

You speed off into the air as Jaime chases after you. "You didn't answer my question!"

"You have a lot of questions for someone who's just arrived." You come to an abrupt stop as Jaime freezes into place.

"Seriously, how has the Justice League not cataloged you? They sent me a list of everyone in the city and—"

"God, B's just as crazy as I remember him being." You grimace. "I'm not on the catalog— too secretive for his liking. B would really rather not catalog me."

"Why's that."

You pause. "I have a handful of mutant genes instead of just one. Weird superpowers come with all of them. If you really want my file, go find Red Robin at the Titans' tower. He ran a whole sampling of my DNA and everything. The Titans Archive has my file."

"Why doesn't Batman have it?"

"Mm..." You pause. "No time?"

"That man is retired. You have to have a better explanation than just that."

"Can we take it to the dorms? I'm at the point where I think you know who I am anyway." You sigh. "You keep bumping into me on a campus this big. You're practically stalking me."

"I'm not—"

"You're going to have to prove that to me. I see you everywhere." You sigh. "I have a single complex, come on."

"Did you win the lottery?"

"You can do a lot with a voice like mine." You drop onto the roof, suit coming off as you do.

"How'd you get that off?"

"Illusion magic."

"Seriously, you're practically a green lantern." He grimaces. "Or a magician."

"Your suit just came off too, you know?" You raise a brow, swiping your ID. "Does the beetle do that? Can I see the beetle?"

"Next thing I know you'll be asking me to strip for you." Jaime jokes.

"Oh, well, not that I'd be against that, but—" You shut up when you pass a student.

"At least you have a filter." He mumbles.

"How old are you anyway? I was going to ask if you were a fourth year, but from the way you don't know where the bio building is, there's no way you are." You glance at the signs.

"First year."

"Oh, so like, fresh out of high school?"

"No, I took a gap year." he hums. "Now I'm trying to finish college and get into dental school."

"Oooh, big dreams." You mumble. "I'll let you practice on me when you're in dental school."

"It isn't cosmetology, you know?"

"Eh." You shrug. Your keys materialize in your hand as you unlock the door to your dorm. "The fake teeth can only last you for so long. Welcome to my dorm."

"What kind of luck do you have?"

"I told you. My voice." You smile. "Would you like to see it in action? Have the scarab read my lips for you. You'll need earplugs. What's your Starbucks order?"

"A cappuccino. Wh-what are you doing?" Jaime chases after you as you step out of your apartment again, knocking on the door across the hall. You toss him earplugs with a wink, knocking on your neighbor's door. Jaime puts them in as he watches you.

"What?" A guy opens the door, visibly annoyed.

Your lips part, sickly sweet words spilling down your tongue, and Khaji Da speaks.

"could you get me a grande cappuccino and sweetened peach green tea from the Starbucks downstairs? Set it by my door and knock when you finish, please?" You bat your lashes at him twice, and the guy blinks back.

Jaime watches in shock as something glazes over the guy's eyes and he nods at you, heading inside and coming out with his phone in hand, locking his door as he heads down the hall.

"That's one of my abilities." You smile. You reach for the plugs in his ears, and he flinches back slightly, pulling them out himself. "Sorry. Am I too much?"

"It's really hard to have a normal heartbeat around someone like you."

"Honored you would think of me as hot." You smile. "Do you want anything to eat? I cook."

"You got tamales?"

"Oh, I do! I just dropped by one of the cultural clubs' president's house, and she came back with a bag of them. I just don't know how to cook them. Care to help?" You rummage through your freezer, brows furrowed. "Here. Yeah?"

Jaime holds his hand out for you to hand it to him, and he hums. "You got a steamer?"

"Top cabinet on the left of the stove." You hum.

"Do they make you pay utilities here?"

"No." You hum. "Which is why I keep the lights and AC on the entire day. I only turn off the lights in my room when I sleep."

"How much... is it a year?"

You visibly freeze, closing the fridge. "I'd rather not discuss that."

"A lot?"

"I don't look at the bill when I send all of it as fake invoices to Wayne Enterprises." You laugh awkwardly, pulling the steamer out.

warning: rapid heart rate increase.

"Yes, Khaji, I know." He mumbles through his teeth.

"Hm?"

"No, not you." He smiles. "How do I put this? I have a scarab in my back."

"Oh, I know." You smile. "It's pretty... visible when you're at the gym. there's like a huge bump on your back."

"You look at me at the gym?!"

"Hard not to when your back muscles look like that. You got a routine I can follow?" You wiggle your brows jokingly.

"Um, lifting seven hundred pounds worth of metal when a skyscraper falls over."

"Oh, I don't need to do that." You shrug. "I just tell the metal to get out of the way."

"Your voice works on more than just humans?"

You puff your cheeks, looking to the side. "Yes?"

"Do you have like, some cosmic control over the universe or something?"

"I could pull a my little pony princess celestia and tell the sun to go down right now." You bat your lashes innocently.

Jaime blinks owlishly, fear in the back of his mind, confusion on his face. You can what. What in the Mary Sue self insert is that voice of yours? It was like God himself made you extra special, even down to the genetics. A metahuman could have powers that strong? Though, how did you even discover that you could make the sun set? Something else snaps at the thought of your voice being so powerful. Can you command... food to cook?

"Couldn't you just cook the tamales with your voice?"

"I've never really tried that." You pause. "I don't know what works and doesn't work, I just know that I can make the sun set and moon rise."

"YOU'VE TRIED!?"

You ignore him, pulling out a tamale. "Cook, please?"

You toss it in the air as it gets hot instantly, and before Jaime can react, Khaji Da is sending his body to grab a plate and catch the tamale. You blink as Jaime catches it (just barely) and the two of you exhale in relief as Jaime sets the plate down. You blink at the bag and then at the piping hot tamale on the plate, jaw-dropping.

"I never have to cook ever again." You mumble. "Oh my god... this is a revelation. This is so much easier than I ever thought it'd be."

"Though, it might be better to cook it on a plate next time." Jaime mumbles, setting the plate down.

burn detected on left hand.

Jaime grabs your wrist, unfolding your hand as he stares at the wound. "It's hurt."

"Oh, I can just—"

"Do you want me to wrap it for you?" Jaime stares at you, eyes gentle, and your heart soars. Holy fuck he's cute. Yeah, screw the voice thing, he's wrapping it up for you. You're gonna take advantage of this. God, you're going to combust. Holy shit, was someone allowed to look this cute? You need to go outside and touch grass, holy shit.

"Y-yeah! Sure!" You blink, eyes wide. "Please. Thank you. I'll uh, give me a second." You stare at the cabinet. "Open, please."

The cabinet door opens.

"First aid kit, land on the counter, please?"

The kit lands, and you call to close the cabinet as there's a knock on the door. Jaime lets go of your hand, turning to go to the door.

"I'll get i—" You place a hand on Jaime's shoulder, shaking your head.

"Stay, please."

Jaime finds himself stuck in place as you open the door, a smile on your face as you take the drinks.

"Do you need anything else?" It's the same guy as before.

"Nope." You smile. "Thank you."

Jaime watches as the man's eyes return to normal, a confused look on his face as he raises a brow at you.

"Should, I, uh, pay you back for the drinks? How much was it?" You blink prettily at him, and Jaime's heart stops when the guy waves you off.

heart rate quickened. indicated attraction to her.

Holy fuck, were you using pretty privilege on your flatmate?

He leaves eventually, and you place the drinks on the counter. "A hot cappuccino during summer?"

"There's AC in your dorm." Jaime mumbles. "Did you use pretty privilege on him?"

"Oh, silly boy." You laugh. "Everyone thinks I'm the most attractive person ever."

"How?" Jaime tries moving, realizing you had put him in place. "Can I be freed?"

"Thank you for staying still." You smile.

"You don't want a tamale?" He opens the first-aid kit, pulling out the bandages and gauze.

"After I burned myself? I'd rather not." You wince as Jaime disinfects the burn.

"How'd you manage to burn yourself?"

"Erm... not sure!" You hum. "but I cooked the tamale."

"Let's cook it the normal way next time." Jaime mumbles. "You want me to cook anything?"

"Can you cook?"

"Yes, most definitely." Jaime wraps your wound gently, brows pulled into a worried frown. "worked at my tía's diner over summer during my gap year."

"Wow, sounds fun." You hum.

"You ever worked?"

"No." You mumble. "My work is my superhero business. I have a gofundme to help. You'd be surprised at how long of a way a little fanservice goes. Can you just boil me some soft eggs?"

"Runny yolk?"

"Semi." You hum. "I have a sauce in the fridge to marinate the eggs in. Thank you."

"Do you enjoy cooking? You have every single sauce and spice I can imagine." Jaime rummages through your cabinet. "Also, what did you mean earlier by everyone thinks you're the most attractive person ever?"

"Beauty is subjective— yeah, I like cooking— so if I tell myself that I want to be the prettiest person in the world, then everyone sees me slightly differently. It's a little manipulative, but it gets the job done." You mumble.

"What about the creeps?"

"I can fight." You hum.

"Is there a reason you need to come off as that way?"

"Only when I'm in suit." You hum. "I look perfectly plain when I'm out of the superhero face."

"And what's this fanservice of yours?"

You smile, your cheeks pulling up but your eyes unchanged. "My onlyfans is linked on my twitter."

Jaime chokes as he turns off the sink, neck-snapping to look at you. "W-what?"

"That was a joke." You hum. "It's just a gofundme. I'm... I'm close with a good number of fans. It's like Superman, you catch my drift?"

"He does have a good relationship with the citizens of Metropolis."

"Yeah, and Batman's hated by all." You snort. "That's a joke. Gotham would kill for that man."

"They would?"

"Ask a Gothamite what they think about Batman and you get an annoyed grunt, but lasso them with the lasso of truth, and they'll admit that they're actually grateful for the man." You lean on the palm of your head. "Thank you for making me the most attractive person ever."

Nothing changes for Jaime as he blinks at you. He blinks a couple more times at you, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him, but you look the exact same. The realization causes a smile to break onto his face slowly, eyes warm and affectionate as he looks at you. You're already pretty to him. How beautiful.

"So? You like how I look?"

"You look the same." Jaime hums, jumping when the water nearly boils over, opening the cap as he places the eggs in. "shit."

You laugh, chest flushed with warmth, shy smile on your lips. Your chest feels overwhelmingly full, like a piece of it that had been lost was returned to you, making you whole again. God, he can't just say that to you and expect you to not fall for him. You grimace inwardly. Falling at the slight sign of affection. How classic of you. Though, your chest is warm, and that was always a good feeling to have. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He blinks at you.

increasing heart rate—

"Please, not now." He hisses.

"Does the beetle speak?"

"To me." Jaime mumbles. "He's like a voice in my head."

"Could I suggest putting an earbud in to pretend you're on the phone so you don't look insane?"

Jaime pauses. "Huh. I've never considered that."

"Yeah." You mumble. "It gets people off your ass."

"How come you don't speak when you're walking around?" He raises a brow. "I thought you were mute until the scarab identified you as the hero."

You shrug. "It's easier."

"Easier for what?"

You shrug. "People don't talk to you much when you don't speak."

"Do you want me to peel the eggs for you?" Jaime lifts the pot into the sink.

"Oh, no, it's fine. Thank you." You hum, getting out of the seat. You wave him off as you pour the water out, focusing on the eggs. "Peel the shell off cleanly, please."

The eggshells detach perfectly, and you open your fridge, pulling out the sauce.

"Are you in any clubs?"

"Acapella Choir and Writer's United." You mumble. "I also hang out with the kids in musical theater."

"I forgot that was a major here."

"We're a surprisingly art-oriented school for one with such a good stem program." You seal the container again, putting it in the fridge. "Clean yourselves, please."

The dishes turn clean with a swirl, and you place them in the dish machine to dry.

"What's the magic word?" Jaime raises a brow.

You smile. "Can't say it."

"Why not?"

"Then it'll come true." You hum. "I think you've listened enough times for it."

"How come you don't fight crime with it?" He hums. "Your voice would do wonders."

You hum. "It wears my voice out."

"Do you speak to your professors?"

"Yeah?" You raise a brow.

"But you don't speak to students?"

"I speak when necessary." You shrug.

"So telling me where the bio building wasn't necessary?"

"No." You sigh. "Of course not. Oh, right. I never learned your civilian name. I can't just keep calling you beetle boy."

"Jaime. Jaime Reyes." He holds his hand out for you, and you take it, your own name spilling past your lips.

Jaime finds that you're not as much of a red flag as you came off as. You bump into him every now and then, nodding as you do, and then you rush off for your classes. Jaime only ever gets to speak to you while on duty, wrestling the criminals to the ground as you knock them out. He doesn't get to speak to you very much— the police have gotten much faster with arriving at the scene of the crime. Usually, by the time he's chased after you, you've already detransformed and gone to class. Seriously, your schedule is appalling. How many units are you even taking?

"Alright, I know you're in there. Come on, open up." Jaime knocks on your door for the nth time, and you finally, finally open it, sighing at him.

"What do you want?"

"To hang out? Seriously, I haven't made any friends since coming here other than you, and that's only because you and I fight crime together!"

"That does not sound like a me problem." You deadpan.

"I brought tea."

"Oh, why didn't you start with that?" You open the door fully, letting Jaime in. "I'll let you chill for a bit, but I have somewhere to go in a little."

"Where? It's 7pm on a Tuesday." He sets the tea on the counter, raising a brow.

"Frat party starts at 8 but you're technically supposed to get there starting 9. No one ever goes on time." You hum. "Did you want to stay the night?"

"No. That'd be a little..." He pauses. "Mami raised a man better than that."

You bark out a laugh. "That's sweet. Thank your mom for that, please. Not many women end up with such sweethearts of children."

"Are you calling me a sweetheart?" Jaime grins.

"Mm, sure." You hum. "Much better than half of the men on campus, that's for sure."

"Why are you going to a frat party?"

"For the vibes." You hum. "I also got news that something was going to happen there, so you gotta be prepared, you know? It's halfway across campus."

"Should I go?"

"If you want." You hum. "Give me a sec, I'll move everything to the island."

"Do you need help?" He cranes his neck as you disappear into the corridor.

"I'll be fine." You call.

Jaime watches as you move a bag and mirror onto the table, and he watches in silence as you start your makeup.

spike of dopamine in bloodstream. hermano, do something. ask her out.

"No!" Jaime hisses. "she's going to think it's creepy!"

"What's creepy?" You raise a brow at him, amusement on your lips.

"Nothing! Khaji is speaking." Jaime avoids your eyes.

"Is that the beetle's name?" You go back to the makeup.

"Yes."

You hum back, finishing with your makeup, pausing.

"Couldn't you have the magic do it?"

"Yeah, but," You sigh. "it only knows how to do my hero look."

"It's taught?"

"I can make it copy images on a screen, but I dont have that many products to work off of." You hum. "You want me to do your makeup?"

"I'm good." Jaime mumbles. "Is a frat party even safe?"

"Depends on the person. Is it icky? Yes. Is it fun to feel individualization in a crowd of strangers? Also yes." You hum.

"Don't you get hit on if you..." He pauses. "no. you're not in costume."

"I sure am going to get hit on if I transform, though." You hum. "It's happened before. They like spiking poison or toxins in frat party drinks. Can Khaji Da scan water for toxins?"

yes.

"He said yes." Jaime mumbles.

"Then go with me?" You smile at him awkwardly. "Please? Maybe you'll make friends there too. Hm? Didn't you come in complaining about how you didn't know anyone here?"

Jaime sighs. "I'm not drinking, though."

"Oh, yeah. Your boundaries still matter, obviously." You pause. "Don't Mexican families throw huge parties and drink there?"

"Sorry, let me rephrase that. I'm not drinking frat house beverages." Jaime corrects himself. "Someone's saliva could be in it for all I know."

"'kay, yeah, that makes sense." You mumble. "Are you just going to go in that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mm." You think for a moment, staring at Jaime. "You know what. Yeah. The shirt's fine. Unbutton two buttons and you'll be fine."

"Huh?"

"Do you need me to do it?" You raise a brow. "They won't let you in if you look too formal, but they also won't let you in if you look too casual. Well, that's a lie. They'd let you in if you were in a tank top, but since you can't... at least try and look like a frat boy."

"I'm hurt." Jaime scoffs as you step close to him.

"Can I?"

"Do what you must."

You reach a hand into his hair, messing it up first, blinking slowly at his face. Jaime holds his breath as you're practically stuck on him, chest pressed to his, and he swears his heartbeat is scarily quick right now. He stares down at your eyes as you stare at his hair, fingers pulling gently to mess it up more than it was. In fact, he should be—

warning: quickened heart beat.

There it is.

Jaime curses under his breath, and you stop, blinking up at him as he leans back.

"Hm?"

"That's the scarab. My heart's beating too fast." He avoids your gaze again, looking up at the ceiling.

"So like, a defense mechanism?" You tilt your head. "Can I... unbutton your shirt slightly?"

"Yeah, uh, sure." He holds his breath as you slide it open slightly, freezing in place when you stare at his chest for a little too long. "You alright?"

"Yeah." You mumble, pulling away, hiding your face. "Yeah. I'm fine. God."

detected increased heart rate.

"You sure?" He tilts his head to get a better look at you, noticing your skin has flushed darker. Ah. So you were flustered too.

"You wanna go?" You finally speak up. "We should get going. It's across town."

"We can fly there. Well, you can."

"I'm not flying for a frat party."

"And you'll walk?"

"At least I won't be drunk." You mumble. "Besides, I can just sleep on one of the benches here. At least we don't have anti-homeless architecture on this campus."

"What's with all the crime on campus anyway?"

"Oh, you didn't know? Everyone here is tied into crime in some way." You smile, opening your fridge. "there's correlation between creativity and sociopathic tendencies, after all."

Jaime blinks slowly. "What."

stable heart beat. Not lying.

"Heros end up desensitized too." You pull out the whipped cream, squirting it right into your mouth as you swallow. You lick your lips as you set the bottle back into the fridge."Come on."

The school is shaped more and more like a prison, Jaime thinks. The architecture is shooting proof, and all the windows are bulletproof. He wasn't sure if it was because of safety worries or the amount of crime. The school wasn't known for crime, so it was a little strange being told that petty crime was common in the school. Well, maybe it was. It's probably less than whatever's going on in Gotham anyway.

"Is... petty crime common here?" Jaime winces at how uncertain he sounds.

"It's..." You pause. "It's not that common, actually. It just seems that ever since you came, our crime rate has gone up."

"Pinning the blame on me?" Jaime fakes offense.

"Yeah." You joke. "Any plans on how to make friends?"

"Any tips?"

"Find the people who are in the corner." You mumble. "Or something. I don't know. Get to know people over drinks. Just have the beetle scan the drinks for anything bad for you."

"What should I not touch?"

"The punch. The beer is usually fine. The beer tends to be canned."

"And the vodka?"

"It's alright. I take a shot of punch for liquid confidence, though." You hum. "But today I can't. I'll just have to shoot straight vodka."

"Or you could just, not drink?"

You shrug, getting to the door of the house, a guy greeting you.

"Ay! You're back!" He grins.

You grin back. "I brought a friend today. That's alright, right?"

"For you, sugarlips? Always."

You lick your lips, winking as you step into the house, Jaime in tow, his hand in yours.

half of the people here's bloodstream have high concentration of alcohol already. beware.

"Got it." Jaime mumbles, following behind you as you squeeze through the crowd. He gets a couple of looks, raised brows in interest and flirty winks. He wonders if you get this often too. Well, if you came and went looking like that, then surely you would. Maybe that's why everyone calls you a nickname. Jaime grows frustrated as he thinks of it. Did you have someone else?

"Sugarlips!" A guy wraps an arm around your shoulder, smiling. "Come back for more?"

"Brought a friend today." You point at Jaime.

The guy doesn't even bother looking at Jaime. "Your boy?"

"Not quite." You smile. "Hands off of him, though. You wouldn't mind telling the girlies that, would you?"

"No worries." He gives you a wink. "Should I tell the boys to keep their hands off too?"

Jaime nods at you, squeezing your hand gently.

"Please." you lick your lips, a smile on your face.

"Watch the punch for me, will you? Don't want anyone drugging it."

"We'll watch the punch." You nod.

"Of course, sugar." He laughs, nodding at Jaime as he heads back into the crowd.

"Well?" You tilt your head at Jaime as he stares at the punch.

Stick your finger in it for more thorough analysis. I can't tell anything without contact.

"Need a cup."

You grab a red solo cup, scoop the drink without the ladle and hand it to him. Jaime blinks twice at the liquid before giving up. Oh well, it's a frat party. What can he do about it?

"Is it always this messy?" Jaime sticks his finger in, waiting for the analysis.

"Occasionally it's worse." You hum. "So? Did you find anything?"

Unknown aphrodisiac toxin detected. Rohypnol drug detected. Liquid alcohol content 37%.

"Rophynol and an unknown aphrodisiac." Jaime repeats. "Alcohol content is 37%."

"Remove the flunitrazepam from the punch, please." You mumble quietly, the water swirling slowly from people's drinks. The powder hangs in the air as you open a plastic bag. "put the flunitrazepam into the bag, please." The powder swirls into the bag, and Jaime watches as you tuck it into your pocket. The crowd of people with drinks don't notice at all, not even when something bubbles out of their drinks.

"Then?" He raises a brow.

"Go have fun." You hum, flicking the cap off of the vodka. "Or have Khaji Da scan the people to figure out who decided to put the date rape drug in the punch, but not my problem." You pour yourself a shot. "I already figured it out when I walked in."

You tilt your head as you watch the vodka pour into the glass, eyes glistening as you do, eyes gentle and tired, and Jaime finds something in your eyes. He's not quite sure what it is, the spotty lights in the living room painting your skin different colors, but there's something about you, he supposes. Even in the way he takes your outfit in, finally, staring too hard at your face. Reds and greens dance across it, leading down to your shoulder. Something glistening on your arm catches his attention.

"You have powder on your shoulder." He reaches to wipe it. "who was it?"

"It's fine." You brush him off, putting the vodka back on the table. "Want a shot?"

Jaime furrows his brows, your name slipping past his lips. "who was it?"

Your name sounds like honey coming from him as you down the shot. God, you were down bad.

"Seriously, who is it?" Jaime knows at this point, only one person had touched your shoulder, but he wants to hear it from your mouth.

"Guy who had his hand on my shoulder. That's why he asked me to guard the drinks. Be right back." You smile at him, slipping into the crowd, going to find the girl he had his hands on.

Jaime tries following after you but loses you in the crowd, grimacing. You were probably looking for the guy who drugged everyone. "Khaji. Find her."

upstairs bedroom second on the left.

Jaime squeezes past the crowd to try and find you. If the guy was capable of drugging the punch, then god knows what he was capable of doing to you if you went alone. Sure, you can fight, but what if something does happen? He didn't want you getting hurt, even if he knew you could fight without a problem.

sounds like you like the girl

"Khaji, can you please," He slams the door open, staring as you have the man on the ground, heel pressed on his windpipe, the girl still unconscious on the bed. Jaime lets out a breath in relief as he steps over to you, Spanish spilling past his lips before he can think too much. "gracias a dios. ¿mi vida, qué demonios estás haciendo? ¡No huyas solo!" thank god. my life, what are you doing? Don't run off by yourself!

You blink in surprise as he breaks into scolding in Spanish, grabbing you by the arms, tilting your head to get a proper look for any bruises that could have landed on you, cursing you out for running off on your own, and you blink trying to keeping up with his words. At some point you press a hand over his mouth, pointing down at the man under you. Jaime follows your finger, remembering that you're stepping on a man's neck. You... crazy. Only you. He hears Khaji Da laugh in his head.

"We've really got a knack for speaking when you have a man's throat under your foot, huh?" Jaime mumbles, furrowing his brows. "Let him go."

"You called me mi vida." You press your chest to his, staring at him, batting your lashes. The pet name sends blood rushing to your head, drunk on the way it sounded so sweet falling from his lips. Did he mean it? Did he mean it when he called you his life? "Did you mean it?"

"It slipped out."

from your unconscious maybe.

"Khaji, shut up." Jaime hisses, face impossibly flushed. "Get off the man before he dies."

You step off of him, the man long passed out.

"Is he still breathing?"

breathing: stable

Jaime exhales quietly.

"So? Mi vida?" You smile cheekily, pointing at yourself. "Am I tu vida?"

Jaime tries avoiding the topic. You're a little tipsy right now. "You literally had a single shot. How are you already–"

blood alcohol content from breath: .06

"Seriously?!" Jaime grimaces as you stare up at him, expecting an answer, cheeks puffed out and frown on his face. "Will you get off of me if I say yes?"

"Depends if you're being honest." You grin, pressing your ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "Push me off if you're uncomfortable."

"Seriously, you're drunk. You're probably not even conscious of half of the stuff you're doing." Jaime peels you from him, throwing you over his shoulder.

"EEK!! I'm being carried like a sack of potatoes!" You shriek, laughing. The alcohol is really messing with your brain. "I'll stay in the room. Go call for the guy at the door we greeted earlier. He'll know how to deal with this."

"I thought frathouses let things like this slide?" He sets you down on the bed next to the girl.

"Not this one. Especially not when he actually planned on doing something." You beam at him, eyes closed, lips quirked upward. "So, could you?"

"If you say the magic word." He tilts his head. He could have a little fun with you.

"That would make it a command." You mumble. "How about something I can give you? Go make a friend downstairs. Give him a friend, p—"

Jaime presses his hand to your mouth. "I don't need the help, thank you."

You blink slowly at him, licking his palm.

"Where'd you even learn that?!" He pulls his had away with a grimace.

"Go get the guy at the door." You groan. "I want to leave if you aren't going to make any friends."

"I'll take you home and then come back to make some friends if you really want me to." Jaime mumbles.

"It'll be too late by then. The police are coming soon."

"Huh?"

"Noise complaints." You shrug. "They break up around 1 or 2 am, so it'll be soon."

"It's been that long?!"

"Go get the guy from the door!" You land in the bed with a thud, sighing. "God, before I kiss you or something. Hurry up."

"Huh?" Jaime freezes in his tracts, turning around to stare at you.

"Don't you wanna know why they call me sugarlips?" You pout, resting your pinky on your bottom lip as you jut it out. You pull it down with a pop, blood rushing to Jaime's head as you do. He needs to leave before he does something to you. God, his self-control could only last him so long.

"That's definitely the alcohol talking." Jaime mumbles frantically, shutting the door behind him. His ears and face feel eerily warm despite being sober.

Ugh, you were a force to be reckoned with.

He hauls you out eventually, flying you to the dorm instead of walking, worried that you'd get hit on, even as he unlocks the door with his ID, you mumble quietly, half-asleep, half-conscious.

"Wake up. I don't know where your key is." Jaime shakes you gently. "Come on."

"Call me mi vida again." You whisper.

He complies, setting you down, a hand around your waist for support. "Mi vida, get your key, will you?"

You fish out the key, unlocking the dorm room. "Wanna stay the night?"

"I'm two floors down. It's fine." He mumbles.

key replication made

"What." Jaime freezes at Khaji's update. "excuse me?"

"Hm?" You raise a brow, door half-open.

"Not you. Shower and go to sleep when you get in." He sighs. "Yeah?"

"Can I have a goodbye ki—"

Jaime shoves you into your dorm, slamming the door closed as he holds it in place, heart racing, cheeks flushed, lips parted as he desperately tries to catch his breath. God. You are such a force to be reckoned with. He's going to get a heart attack with you around sometime. You're twice as bad when you're drunk. But hell did he want to kiss you. Too bad you were drunk. He couldn't think of taking advantage of you like that, even if you were the one who asked.

Jaime makes a mental note to keep you away from alcohol next time.

The next time you see Jaime, the two of you are actually fighting someone again. Your suit is on, your voice stopping the metal from slamming onto the civilians as you evacuate them. Jaime focuses on the man himself, hand transforming into a blaster as he shoots at the villain. Didn't you say most of the crime was minuscule in comparison with other cities? Well, this was minuscule compared to how many beetles he's fought because of who he was. At least there weren't other beetles in the city.

"I thought you said there weren't supervillains in this city!" He yells at you, voice coming out altered.

"They don't come often!" You yell, turning your attention to the metal. "Fall, please."

The metal slams down onto the ground as you tackle Jaime out of the way.

"Why did you let it fall?!"

"I can't hold things up for too long my throat hurts!" You shriek, turning to face the floating criminal." Pass out, right now, please!"

The supervillain drops on the ground with a thud, and you exhale, faceplanting into Jaime's suit with a sigh. You stay there for a couple of seconds, catching your breath, groaning as you finally sit up straight. Jaime can feel the plush of your skin despite the suit's barrier, and it is not something to feel while the adrenaline after a fight dissolves in his system.

"It was that easy!?" He rests on his arms, suit scanning the unconscious criminal.

"My throat hurts." You mumble, walking over to where the criminal was passed out. "Two minutes until police come."

"I'll fly you." He sits up with you, linking his arms behind your back and under your legs, wings fluttering as he soars into the sky. "Who pays reparation fees?"

"Taxes." You cough. "Ow."

"Stop talking!"

"Stop asking me questions— heUG." You reach to grab your throat, grimacing.

"Alright. Stop talking until we can figure out how to get your voice back without killing you." He groans. "At this point we might as well live on the dorm roof."

You grimace.

"Was your throat damaged when we met the first day?"

You shake your head.

"Oh, so you just hated me."

You lunge at him, annoyed.

initiating rough translation... "Are you crazy!? Do you know how much energy it takes to knock a supervillain out with my voice? You think I'm superman?! I didn't hate you the first day, I just didn't think it was worth the effort!"

"Don't lunge at me while I'm flying!" Jaime shrieks, nearly dropping you as he lands on the roof with a crash. "I didn't know! I can't analyze your entire genetic structure just from looking at you, you know?!"

"would you like to see me naked, then?"

"NO!" Jaime yells, leaning back as you shift on his lap. "Dios, now everyone's going to know that I landed on the roof. Hurry up on back to your place now."

"Jaime, pretty boy."

"What?" He tries to ignore the way the back of his head rushes with warmth at the pet name.

"I can't detransform without my voice."

Jaime freezes in place, blinking at you slowly as he lunges to grab you by the shoulders. "Speak. Detransform right now—"

"I CAN'T."

"You know," Jaime pauses. "I'm impressed that you can tell, Khaji. How are you reading her body language so well?"

unlike you, I have been observing her body language. she is a suitable person for you to date.

"WHAT." Jaime chokes, coughing to get the spit caught in his throat out. You jolt as he rests his head on your chest, coughing profusely.

Jaime, I need to see her in order to translate. Though, her heartbeat is abnormally fast.

Jaime looks up at you, where you're looking down at him, lips parted in embarrassment, eyes wide with confusion, skin flushed with warmth. Jaime probably doesn't look much better under the suit right now, his own heart fighting to break through his ribcage. You're just... so pretty. He stares at you a little too hard, eyes drinking in your figure, forgetting how close you are to him.

"Can I kiss you?"

That cuts Jaime out of his thoughts as he leans away from you. "I did not need to hear you ask if you could kiss me with the scarab's voice."

You blink at him owlishly, mischief dancing in your eyes.

"No." He answers. "Not with Khaji's voice asking me."

"will you go on a d—"

"NOT WITH HIS VOICE ASKING ME!" Jaime cries.

You grin at him cheekily, scooching close to press yourself to his chest again. You rest your cheek on his chest, lips curling upward as you bat your lashes. You like messing with him, he finds.

"Then my own?" Your lips pull further up, and Jaime swallows while staring at your lips.

"You didn't lose your voice?" He stumbles over himself as you blink.

"Not quite. It hurt for a bit, but my self-healing ability is quite impressive too. So?" You hum. "Can I?"

"Yeah, sure, mi vida," He mumbles, the helmet on his head coming off as he presses his lips to yours, lashes fluttering as your body arches to sink into him. His hand wraps around your wrist as he leans a little more in to get a better taste of your lips, another hand moving to the back of your head, tilting it as he stares at you through his lashes. He understands your nickname now, your lips do taste sweet, even when you haven't downed whipped cream. Ugh, he could spend eternity just making out with you, slowly, gently, without a care in the world. He pulls gently on your hair, leaning further in as he licks your bottom lip, exhaling more as his tongue darts past your pretty lips into your mouth. Your hand moves to press on his chest, whimpering as he tugs on your hair a little too hard.

You're just so pretty to him.

He lets out a sigh of satisfaction as you pull away for air, lips parted, eyes glazed over, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths.

Jaime reaches to wipe the saliva from your mouth with his thumb, smiling gently as he does.

God. Shit. He's in love with you.

unusually high levels of dopamine and adrenaline detected in bloodstream. quickened heartbeat warning.

"Can I kiss you again?" Jaime whispers.

"Yeah." You whisper back, smiling so hard your eyes crinkle.

Fingers in your hair and lips slotted against yours, Jaime thinks this is heaven for him. Even as the two of you have detransformed, still stuck on the roof of the dorms, your hands on his chest as he sinks further into your touch, smiling against your lips as you hum, the vibrations of your chest traveling to his as a pleasant buzz. Jaime closes his eyes all the way, and he only pulls away when you do, the gentle fondness still present in his eyes as he looks at you.

Yeah. That was what this is. Love.

The same love that was present in his mother's eyes, yet different from the love that was for his family. This love was newer— it made his skin crawl and his heart race, but it wasn't unpleasant. He felt giddy and boyish, falling for someone like this— he felt like it was having a first love, your cheeks flushed and ears red, shy glances stolen in a room full of people, only seeing you under the spotlight when other people existed. Jaime wanted to relish in this forever— the feeling of your skin pressed to his, he would stay with you forever if he could— If you'd let him.

"So?" You smile. "Know why now?"

Jaime pauses to stare at the way the sun shines through your hair and coats you in a glow of gold, his hands still on you as he looks up, a smile on his face. A laugh breaks past his lips at your smile, the happiness from finally having you in his arms sending blood through his body and genuine bliss through his system. Ah. Right. This was heaven to him— to have you in his arms and a smile on his face, the sun not even as bright as the way your eyes crinkle while looking at him, adoring him to the ends of the earth. Ah, it feels good to be loved.

"Mm..." Jaime hums playfully. "Maybe I'll know if you kiss me again."

"God, I think I just unleashed a monster."

"Your fault for being so irresistable, mi vida." He goes back to your lips, humming happily as he does.

Your relationship doesn't change much at first. The two of you are exclusive, yes, but neither of you have put a label on the relationship. Other than the making out in your dorm and occasionally while fighting, not much has really changed. You both have your classes, and you both have things that you are busy with. You wonder if you guys are just friends with benefits, then. Though, judging from the way Jaime looked at you, there was no way the guy thought you both were just friends.

Then, Jaime starts bringing food over to your dorm, clinging onto you while the two of you huddle on the couch with a movie playing in the background. You find yourself in his arms as you listen to his heartbeat at night, and suddenly the single dorm is a double, Jaime squished on your bed next to you, sprawled out with an arm around you lovingly as the two of you sleep. You're... definitely not friends with benefits. You're practically dating, huh?

"I'm here!" Jaime calls from the door, holding a bag of takeout with a bouquet in the other arm.

"What is it today?" You take the flowers from him with a smile.

"Bart visited today." He hums. "Said there was a good bagel place downtown he visited before."

"Ooh." You mumble. "Did you try it?"

"No, but I ordered something I figured you'd like." He takes out the boxes, sliding yours to you, smile on his face.

"Jaime, can I call you mi amor?" You tilt your head.

"You can call me whatever you want, mi vida." He hums. "Just you."

ew.

"Khaji, shush." He hisses at the beetle.

You open the takeout box, grinning at the bagel. "We should make this here."

"We should." He hums. "You'd probably make a better one too."

"Should have Bart judge it." You chew on the bagel, pausing. "Are we... dating?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't we be?" Jaime pauses. "Oh. I forgot to ask you out, huh? Wait, I can prepare something nice and then as—"

"Jaime, go out with me?" You tilt your head, smile crinkling your eyes, your cheeks pulled upward with a foolish grin.

"Yes." he breathes. "Yes, mi vida. Forever and always, it's a yes."

You hum, pulling a flower out of the bouquet and tucking it behind his ear. "There. Now we're actually dating."

"Mi vida." He spins your chair to face him, arms gripping both sides, smile on his face. "Can I have a kiss?"

"For you? Always yes." You set the bagel down, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Though, I probably taste like bagel right now."

"You always taste good." Jaime mumbles, pressing his lips to yours.

And it's gentle, the way that Jaime loves. He presses his fingers into your skin and wraps his arms around you, relishing in the warmth you give him, and to him, you can do no wrong. Even if you make mistakes, he's there for you, slowly, gently, always there to anchor and weigh you down. You'll do the same for him, fingers threading through his hair, skin warm on his, a smile and voice reserved for him.

and god did Jaime love you for it.

[ancha-aus]

Ghosts & Medium AU Drabble - Sleepover

I am back with this little AU of mine :3 Becuase I had an idea and I of course have no self control.

What is the focus? Killer and Cross getting to see Dust's and Ash's apartment.

*-----------------*

Dust continues to stare through the front window. He is tired. And Not just physically.

"Come on Dusty! I want to explore my new body and I could use an extra set of hands~"

"It ISN'T your body!! Don't you fucking dare!"

Dust is way beyond his social quota. He has been for the last three weeks. With the last week being especially tiring.

Having Killer tag along as a ghost had been bad.

Killer now having a body?

Dust is used to waking up with a ghost hovering near. Ash does that all the time to wake him up. Seeing Killer instead had been a shock to his system and Dust had tried to hit the ghost. Not very effective because well, ghost. Even if a poltergeist is more physical than most ghosts he was still a ghost.

Well! Having an actual person near and hovering over him?! Yeah. Much more nerve wrecking and is ruining his already fragile and destroyed sleeping cycle.

It doesn't help that Cross is around. Pouting and grumbling all the time. Reminding Killer of what to do with his bdoy and what not to. Pestering Dust to solve it.

Dust doesn't even know what ritual Cross used! Dust had gone to Cross because he hadn't been able to get Killer to leave him. Yet now his problem is doubled.

Ash had offered that maybe they can go home. Get some rest and read some of his books for answers. Dust had figured it was fine. He still had some money from the last job. He would ahve to make every penny count and maybe just eat cheap rice for a while but he can make the money stretch a little longer.

So they got into his van and started going to his apartment.

Dust had considered leaving Killer in Cross's body behind somewhere. He got so close to just doing that. With Killer being stuck in Cross's body it would mean he would be free of him.

But well. Cross and him are still kinda friends. Cross is pretty much Dust's only kinda friend... even if Cross just treats him as any other customer.

Also it feels like a waiting disaster to leave a mobile Killer unsupervised.

So there are going back to his place. Even if Dust much prefers no one knowing where he lives but what can you do.

Ash floats by his shoulder "You sure you don't want to stop for coffee? You have been driving for seven hours now." Ash shoots him a disapproving look.

Dust shrugs "too expensive." he can get soo much rich for the price of one overpriced coffee.

God he misses coffee. Sadly it was one of the first things he stops buying once he gets into the lower amounts of money, same for cigarrettes. Which, with business being slow. He had been low on cash for the last seven months.

There is a reason he tried so hard with Killer's whole haunting thing. It had been the first job after anohter four months of no work or jobs. He needed the cash.

Not that it matters now. He got so many more problems now. At least Cross still has his own savings to keep his body alive while Killer inhibits it.

Dust remembers he should answer Ash "I am almost there." just two more hours. Maybe one and a half if he speeds a bit. That is one of the nice parts about having a ghost with you the whole time. Ash being near causes some electrics to shortcut.

Speedcameras count within those for some reason.

Works great for him.

Killer whines loudly "Dusty! Pay attention to me!"

"Don't distract him from driving Killer! YOu are going to get us killed!"

Killer gasps "OMG!"

Ash looks unimpressed "Did you just seriously say omg out loud? as just letters? as an actual reaction? In an actual conversation? seriously?"

Killer wiggles excited from side to side "We could be ghosts together! Haunt stuff together and-"

Ash rushes Killer and Killer yelps as Ash no doubt uses his own limited ghost ability power stuff to harm him now he is physical "If you ever even entertain the idea of my brother dying ever again I am killing you in this new host body myself. Am. I. understood?"

Cross looks panicked "Wait no! that is my body!"

Ash huffs "I am aware. But I am not risking Dust. Not for anything or anyone."

Killer pouts "Geez calm down. it was just an idea." he mutters unhappily "we wouldn't even be sure if it would work."

Dust just ignores the ghosts arguing. It is still a long drive.

Fuck he would kill for either a coffee or a cigarrette right about now. He would commit a war crime if he could get both.

--

It is late. Very late. But they are finally here!

Dust parks the van in an empty spot and grabs his bag as he walks towards the front door. He opens it with his key and has to hit it a few times before the door into the building opens.

Dust just nods to the door as he looks at Killer "Inside."

Killer has a hand on his, well cross's chest as he looks down at him. Damn Cross for being tall. "Oh? inviting me back home already? After just one date? I am scandalised and very interested." and he walks inside.

Ash makes a gaging sound and Dust rolls his eye lights before following after Killer. Once inside he pulls the door until it gets back stuck again and he locks it again. The doorhandle it broken so you need to force it in and out of place before keeping it shut with the lock itself.

Dust walks past the elevator that Killer is waiting by "don't use the elevator. it gets stuck and has the habit of dropping a few floors." and he walks towards the stairs. Fuck he hates the stairs.

Still he climbs the floors and eventually finally gets to floor eight and walks down the hallway. Door after door after door. There is his spot. 808.

He pulls out his key and tries it. Ugh. It is stuck again. He bonks his skull against the door "Ash?"

Ash floats through the door "on it."

a moment later he feels the key turn and he steps back as Ash forces the door open. He removes the key "Thanks." and he leads the other two inside as Ash closes the door and locks it again.

Dust stands in his room and ignores the very damning silence "Home sweet home." he throws the bag on the couch as he walks over to the window and opens it. Having to put the small wood board between some parts to keep it open.

Killer looks around the place as Cross looks a lot more alarmed "You live here?!"

Dust shrugs as he walks to his couch where he leavs a blanket and pillow "Euh. I live in my van. I only come here once in a while." Thinking that. He will probably need to get food. He never leaves food behind in his place. Makes the rats visit.

Cross looks so worried as he floats nearby "You enver said this was your place!"

Dust shrugs "It is fine."

Sure the enterance and living room and kitchen is one room... with the door hitting the couch... and the kitchen being one small fridge a counter and a electric little stove thing. and the place he eats is just one table with one chair. But it is a place! It has electricity kinda reliable and the water is mostly clean.

Dust blinks and shrugs "Rent is cheap." also the landlord does not pay attention to who pays and who doens't. Which is the only reason Dust still has this place and why he doesn't complain about everything being broken.

Dust looks at Killer and points at the couch "You can sleep here. That was Cross's body gets some rest. I will be in my room." and he turns and goes towards his own bedroom, after picking up his bag of course.

His room may have been an exaggeration. It is just his mattress on the floor with two different blankets and an old pillow. the room just barely fits the mattress and the small set of drawers for his clothes. He searches through it and finds a shirt some sweats and a beanie. This will have to do to sleep in.

He undressed and redresses. He will do all the stuff to clean up and stuff tomorrow. First sleep. It is like 4 am and he had been driving since they left Cross's chapel. at like 6ish... Dust thinks... maybe earlier?

It doesn't matter. Dust lets himself fall on his mattress and rolls up. Muttering a good night to Ash and getting one in return.

--

Someone is muttering stuff near him. Ugh. Can't he just sleep for a bit longer? He is tired.

He grumbles as he tries to curl more into his blanket but he is stuck. weird. did he get tangled with his blanket again? Would explain why it is so warm and... why... something... is moving...

Dust manages to open his sockets and freezes.

Cross, well Killer, is in bed with him. Killer pouts "You woke him-"

Dust just punched him in the face nad Killer rolls off the bed. Releasing him in the process. Dust glares at him "Why the fuck are you in my room." he rubs his sockets. no longer sleepy at all. what the actual fuck?!

Killer rubs his, well Cross's face "I wanted to get up close and comfortable. but then i realised that sleeping with you as very comfy. so i slept in your bed wiht you instead of the couch."

Dust looks around and spots Ash looking pissed. and Cross hiding his face nad looking beyond embarrassed "I am so sorry! I didn't know what to do and i thought he was asleep so i went to explore the building and when i came back he was well here and I couldn't convince him to leave as he was aslready asleep himself and well..."

Dust looks at Ash and Cross "wake me?!"

Ash grumbles unhappily "You need your sleep."

Cross sighs "also nothing we did could wake killer and it isn't like he listens."

...

What even is his life?

Okay. Fine.

Dust gets up and kicks Killer and he yelps. Dust just kicks him again "Out. I need to get dressed."

Killer grins and winks "I can assist-" Dust kicks him again. Killer pouts "okay fine fine fine!" and he leaves.

Dust gets dressed quickly and goes towards the living room. Time to look into some new options to get this situation wiht Killer and Cross sorted out.

First he needs to switch their places to get Cross his body back. And then a ritual to get Killer to leave him alone.

That is easy. That is just two rituals.

Dust grabs the first book and starts looking through the rituals.

There has to be something that can work... He could also try and summon something that can make the changes if he really needs to.

[citruslullabies]

Oii bom dia!

So, I don't know if you remember me, I'm the girl who said that loved the Catnap x Fox!Reader fic and wanted a part two!

So, here I am, with all my glory (wich it's not much) to make this little request, with some angst if you get me

You've been giving us too much sugar, I don't want to be diabetic/j

(Also, sorry for my terrible english, I'm not using a translator this time, and I suck at writing, I really need to practice it)

I'm a little rusty with writing full blown gore, so apologies!

Trigger warnings: blood, HEAVY gore, all that stuff again‼️DO NOT INTERACT IF EASILY DISTURBED‼️

Romantic/platonic?: unspecified

Requested by: liznarfox (@liznarfox look what you made me do)

Category: heavy angst boysssss

Ship (romantic or platonic): Catnap x fox smiling critter!reader

Word count: 1029 (my longest yet)

A Helping Paw: Severed Hands

You had been made to be of help to Catnap, made to be his best friend and his guide through it all.

That's all the more motivation for him to follow the prototype, to save himself and to save you. A part of him wanted to let you in on the plans but he knew you too well, and knew you'd be far too fearful to go through with them unless thrown in the action. Countless nights he'd stay locked away with only you by his side, tricked by your own feelings to check on your friend growing more and more distant only to fall asleep by his side as he stroked your fur lovingly.

He began to grow incredibly thin, his smile growing larger and his face somewhat distorted with wide disturbing eyes. They scared you, but he knew it'd all make sense to you one day.

The hour of joy was finally here, and all hell broke loose. You were panting and running through your sobs, trying to find the others and a way out. You wanted to throw up at how violent everyone had become, it was sickening. At each twist and turn you saw someone get torn apart, nearly vomiting once you stepped on something squishy and wet looking down to realize it was a tongue still twitching from being freshly ripped out of someone's skull.

Your ears were flat as you ran fast on your feet, tears rolling down your fluffy face as you breathed raggedly. But a glint of hope shined through your eyes when you saw Catnap in the distance. “Catnap-! There you are, we have to go!” You said, running over to him and fast but soon slowing down when seeing how he behaved.

Catnap's jaw unhinged like a snake, his paw down his throat as he pulled out remnants of bones. Your eyes locked on him before they slowly trailed down to the bodies of children torn apart In front of him, one of them still barely alive and trying to play dead but it would only be a matter of time before they were. They were too far gone, with their body practically torn in two and their eye closest to the ground burst like a cracked egg just left on the counter with the yolk spilling out.

The room stunk heavily of blood and tears, the blood in the carpet soaking into your feet and squelching with every step you took away. Your feline friend looked up and over at you, his once friendly face vile and terrifying, with his chin red as if he just finished eating a pomegranate.

“(Your name)...” He purred out, suddenly approaching. The disgusting sound like a sponge being squeezed every time he took a heavy step on the ruined carpet made your stomach twist and churn, but all you could focus on was the horrifying figure approaching you. One you used to call a friend.

You gulped as you looked around, eyes darting the rather large room where orphans used to play but you eventually had to face him again. His eyes were wide and murderous, causing your tail to tuck between your legs. “C-catnap.. why did you do this?” You slowly asked, chest feeling heavy as if you were about to dry heave from the sight caused by your friend. It was a miracle you managed to stomach everything you had seen and smelled.

He was silent, just getting closer and stopping once he was close enough. He pressed his nose against yours, purring despite you having to swallow your own throw up from the smell escaping the hollow shell of your best friend. He looked at you with eyes so cold yet so warm. “I did it… for us… the prototype will save us…” He cooed, once again saying the same sentence he had been saying for months. The prototype will save us. And yet it never made sense, and it still didn't.

You gulped and pulled your face away, clenching your eyes shut as you felt queasy from the smell reeking from him as if the blood soaked into his fur and bones. “What do you mean by that?? Is this what you've been talking about?” You asked in disbelief, taking a step back. With a pur the feline responded. “Yes… isn't it wonderful?” He cooed, watching you shake your head in disbelief and disgust. Catnap fell silent before speaking up again, his voice no longer holding any affection for you as he began to understand that you didn't hold the same viewpoint as he did, that you didn't understand why he did all of this and would only see him as a monster.

“You're meant to help me. To understand me… I see I was wrong.” He said coldly, looking down at you with blank eyes but that same smile he could never seem to get rid. Not even in his most manic times. “Thank you for your care, fox. I will save you in the only other way I know how to.”

Suddenly, a red smoke filtered in the room. He watched as you tried to fight against it, tried to run to the door but you collapsed against the carpeted floor instead. At least this way would be painless for you, or so he hoped. He carefully picked you up in his paws, adoring you like how you once adored him before he carefully cut you open as if you were a frog in a science class. He emptied out everything you had inside, his paws shivering at the feeling of your squishy interior and the warmth that would have at one point comforted him when you were whole.

He left your insides and bones on the floor, but kept your heart. He swore he could still hear it beating, the sound driving him even further into insanity but he kept it close in your memory. With one last nuzzle, he left you there. You had betrayed him in his eyes, and he saved you the only way he could.

He killed you out of mercy, not wanting to see you suffer like any other heretics.

Thanks for requesting! And part one is here

[inkbyajm]

of kindling sparks

masterlist: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

tropes: fluff, slow-burn

warnings: 11 year age-gap (reader is 23, joel is 34)

word count: ~6000

author’s note: so this chapter as well as the next one basically serve as one long exposition before the main story (aka the prequel). i realise this is lengthy as hell but i needed to flesh out the relationship between joel and the reader for the upcoming chapters to hurt, you know?

(p.s. there's mention of joel carrying the reader. i know some people might be put off by this, but joel is quite buff. i mean the man works in construction, i promise he can handle carrying an adult for less than a minute)

————-　❈　————-

The air was getting chillier, the change of seasons not going unnoticed. (Y/N)'s focus was razor-sharp as she drove through the streets of Austin, making sure to take in the ever-changing leaves on the trees she passed by. As an exchange student, it wasn't cheap to be renting a car, and the money her parents were generously providing her could only last for so long. She desperately needed another source of income. Her prayers were answered the week prior when she stumbled upon an advertisement near the exit to her university. It was for a babysitting job with a decent pay and convenient working hours. She wrote an email to the address written on the poster:

Dear Mr. Miller, Is the babysitting job still available? I'm a student currently on an exchange program at the University of Texas. And while I haven't had prior experience in babysitting, I used to be an assistant teacher in a kindergarten. I'm very good with children and at keeping them alive (this is a joke, but I am pretty responsible, my mother can attest to this). If there is any need for it, I can also cook and clean up after each visit. Thank you for your consideration and I hope to hear from you soon!

Sincerely, (Y/N) (L/N)

To which, much to her surprise, she received an answer shortly after:

Dear Ms. (L/N), Yes, the babysitting job is still available. It's for my 12-year-old daughter Sarah. And while I appreciate all that you have to offer, there's nothing much to do but keep her alive, so your skill would be useful here. You can come by our house on 1411 Sullivan DR any day of the week after 5pm, we'll go over the details then. If you're still interested, you'll be able to start right away. See you soon!

Best regards, Joel Miller

After half-an-hour of driving, the house finally came into view. Just as she parked the car in the vacant driveway, and before she went to meet some stranger she hoped wouldn't turn out to be a creep, the girl gathered her wits and courage with a clasp of her hands, a deep breath, and a firm nod as if to say 'There's no going back now, and if I die, it is what it is'.

Her three knocks on the door were followed by a long pause which made her believe she had arrived either at the wrong time or the wrong house. But as she was about to turn around and flee in embarrassment, out came a middle-aged man with disheveled hair.

"Hello. Is this the Miller's house?"

"Yes, hi! I am so sorry I kept you waiting. (Y/N), right?" he said, wiping his hands on a rag.

"That's me."

"Great. I'd shake your hand, but mine are a bit dirty. Please, come in." he stepped out of the way to let her walk further into his home.

It was decently spacious and cozy, which temporarily put her at ease. They walked through the living room into the dimly lit kitchen. It smelled of spices and garlic.

He gestured around, "Welcome to our humble abode. Pardon the mess, I didn't exactly have time to tidy up," While it wasn't exactly messy, they could benefit from an extra set of hands. "You said you weren't from around here?"

"No, I'm quite a long way from home," (Y/N) said, taking a seat at the dining table. "I wanted to see other places, gain a bit of independence. Austin was one of the first to accept me, and since it seemed like a fine city to live in, I packed up my things and arrived at the beginning of summer."

"I'm Texas born and raised myself. Wouldn't dream of living anywhere else. How old are you exactly?"

"Twenty-three, sir."

He proceeded to rummage through the fridge that was almost full. "Alright. Would you like a beer, then? And please, call me Joel. You're making me feel old."

"Right, Joel. And sure, I'll have one if you do."

Joel handed her a cold bottle as he sat down across from her. She was familiar with the brand, they served it at the bar she worked at part-time on weekends. For the next hour-and-a-half, the two discussed (Y/N)'s life, her studies, Joel's job as a contractor, and Sarah. At some point, the attacks on 9/11 came up, unpacking the nation-wide terror they had brought. She recalled the panicked calls she received from her parents, begging her to come home. She had to explain that she was alright, that there was nothing to do about it now, and that she couldn't leave the city when she had already formed ties and taken on responsibilities.

Just as Joel was getting into another anecdote from Sarah's childhood, they heard keys jangling in the front door as it opened and shut.

"Speak of the devil. Done playing already?"

A soft voice rang through the house, "Yeah, I'm really tired." Then a pigtailed girl stopped abruptly at the entrance to the kitchen. She was wearing a soccer kit, carrying both a purple backpack as well as a blue duffel bag.

"Sarah, this is (Y/N). She's gonna be your nanny from now on."

The little girl hesitated at first, then gently approached the table and extended her small hand for her to shake. "Nice to meet you." she said with as much courage as she could muster, earning a smile in return.

Getting up from his seat, Joel kissed his daughter's head and told her food was ready, which prompted the child to run upstairs to her room. Feeling like it was her cue to leave, (Y/N) followed suit and slung her bag on her shoulder.

"Would you like to stay for dinner? I'm not much of a chef, but I have to admit I make a mean chili." said the man, pointing at the steaming pot on the stovetop.

The smell of a homemade meal was making her mouth water, but she hadn't known them for long enough to get comfortable. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I should really get going. I have some reading to finish before morning."

The two made their way back to the front door. "Alright, then. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, yeah?"

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Miller- Joel, sorry." she corrected herself, waving him goodbye as she swiftly got into her car and began the drive back to her apartment. She hadn't even begun the job, yet (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy about her small success.

————-　❈　————-

A couple of months had passed and (Y/N) was really enjoying her new gig. Sarah turned out to be the sweetest girl the young woman had ever had the pleasure of knowing. She wasn't fussy or troublesome, was very well-mannered, oh-so-friendly and kind, and a fan of using sarcasm here and there, which seemed to be something she picked up from her father. Joel, too, was accommodating to the new addition of their little family. (Y/N) could sense, however, that he was somewhat more reserved - closed, even. It was harder to get to know her employer, but she didn't mind, these things took time.

Leaning against her car, the young woman read her copy of 'Pride and Prejudice' for the 4th or 5th time. Something about it brought her great comfort, especially during the colder months. The festive season was quickly approaching and she wasn't sure if gifts would be appropriate so early-on in her employment. She had zoned out for so long, she didn't have time to register her name being called nor a pair of arms swiftly wrapping around her waist.

"Hey, kiddo." she laughed, hugging the curly-haired girl back.

She let go and stared up at her babysitter with her big round eyes. "Did daddy send you to pick me up?"

"No, I just finished classes and thought I'd swing by."

"What are you reading?"

(Y/N) turned the book to show the cover, "Pride and Prejudice. It's an old book."

"What's it about?"

"Uh- well, it's about a lot of things, but mainly it's the story of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy who have to overcome their differences to end up together. Hence the title."

"That sounds kind of interesting."

"Yeah, but it takes a lot of hatred and pettiness to get there."

The little girl shook her head in disapproval, "Adults. Why do they have to complicate things?"

"Alright, wise one. Get in before you get cold."

The car ride gave them more time to bond. They sang to Sarah's favourite songs and talked about whatever was on the little genius's mind. It was a unique experience for both of them, two feminine energies collided, something each of them longed for dearly.

At home, (Y/N) spent a significant amount of time helping Sarah with her homework: a bunch of English grammar exercises, essay writing, as well as some algebra. Following their arduous work, the girls decided they deserved some fun and made creamy pasta (one of Sarah's favourites) for dinner. Whilst waiting for the patriarch to come home, they got comfortable on the couch to watch 'Mrs. Doubtfire'.

Unsure if she should speak during the movie, Sarah poked her babysitter's arm. "Do you have siblings?"

"I don't, no. Why do you ask?"

"I don't have any either. Do you ever get lonely?"

(Y/N) wasn't sure where these questions were coming from, but she decided to entertain them anyway. "I used to, growing up. Though my parents did a very good job at making sure I felt loved at home. I miss them a lot, but I'm happy here too."

There was a long pause as Sarah was visibly deep in her thoughts. "I never knew my mom," It shouldn't have shocked the young woman, she assumed Joel and his wife had separated after noting the absence of a maternal presence in their home, but it still came as a surprise. "Daddy said she had her own reasons and that they both agreed for me to live with him."

"Adults always have their own reasons for things, even if it may seem dumb. I'm sure it was a very difficult decision to make for her and that she loves you very much."

"I don't think about her often anymore. My dad can be busy, but he does a good job. He comes to every game, takes me to fairs and carnivals, helps me with school projects. He's also extra cool on vacation."

Something about her remark pulled at (Y/N)'s heart. "I see. He seems like a really great dad." The girls went right back to watching Robin Williams dance around while doing chores, as if they hadn't just touched on a thought-provoking subject.

It was almost 11pm and Joel was nowhere to be seen. Instead of letting the girl pass out on the couch, (Y/N) let her hold onto her back as she carried the sleepy child all the way to her room. Making sure all was right, she put her to bed, closed the window, turned on the night-light, then made her way towards the door.

"You're really cool," Sarah said sleepily with her eyes closed. "I hope you stay for a long time."

No compliment in the world could compare to a kid's heartfelt approval. "I hope so too, sweetie. Good night and good dreams."

Walking back downstairs, the young woman took one look around the house and decided she could pass the time cleaning up here and there. She started by tidying up the living room: folding the throws, fluffing up the pillows, putting the board games back on the bookshelf. Then she moved onto the kitchen where she took the trash out, scrubbed the surfaces clean as silently as she could, put the leftover pasta away, and washed the dishes. Satisfied with her work, she went back up to Sarah's room to leave a glass of water by her bed in case she got thirsty in the middle of the night.

In a house that was dead silent, she heard heavy footsteps. In a short panic, she grabbed a pair of scissors that were lying on the desk and crept up closer to the door. The steps were agonisingly slow and calculated. The woman felt like she was in a slasher movie. Babysitters always die first. The only indication she had of the intruder's whereabouts was from the shadow that was created by the light from the kitchen. This is what you get for not turning on every single light in a house where you're all by yourself. One of the most important rules in horror movies, she thought. The shadow approached closer and closer to the door, and just when she hoped the distance was close enough, she leapt out of the room and went straight for the stranger. Unfortunately, her blow was blocked and her body pushed up against the wall. In a blink, she realised what had happened.

"What the hell, Joel?" she whisper-shouted.

"(Y/N)? What are you still doing here?"

"Doing my job. Couldn't let Sarah stay all by herself with no indication of when you'd be back. That would be irresponsible of me."

He let go of her arms, lazily rubbing his face. "You're right, I'm sorry. I got held up and my cellphone died. I'm so exhausted, I completely forgot you were here."

"It's all good, I didn't hear you arrive either," she paused, noticing the blood running down his left hand. "Oh my God, Joel, you're bleeding!"

He looked at the wound like he hadn't even felt it until then, "Oh, this is nothin'. I had worse accidents at work."

"Still, it could get infected. Please, take a seat in the kitchen, I'll be right back."

She went straight to the bathroom to fetch the first-aid kit. It was essential to know where it was, what it had and how to use everything as someone who had to watch a small human being. She went back downstairs to start working on Joel's injury.

"I'm so sorry. I was so caught up in my own mind, I thought you were an intruder, and it was the only weapon at hand-"

"Please don't apologise. It was my bad, really. I should have announced myself," he spoke as he watched her gently clean the cut with a saline cleansing wipe. "Can't blame you for doing your best to defend yourself. Takes courage."

(Y/N) realised that upon closer inspection, her employer was quite handsome. Dark messy hair, a somewhat upkept beard, broad build, crow's feet that indicated how often he smiled, as well as nose wrinkles that indicated how often he frowned. She carefully applied medical tape to close-off the wound and went to put the kit back where it belonged. On her way down, she noticed him looking around in slight confusion.

"Did you…clean the house?"

"Oh, you know, just lightly tidied up. I'm not a fan of leaving the places I stay at messy. Kind of a habit," she noted the silence and her hands instantly became cold. "God, I'm sorry. Again. I- I didn't even ask if you were okay with me touching your belongings, I got-"

"No, you're good. You're good. Don't sweat it. It's just that," Joel chuckled at her need to be so polite after months of working together. "You didn't have to do this. I can't ask you do to things that aren't part of your job description."

"I know. And I don't mind. Really. It's not like I'm playing Cinderella day and night," she said as they shared a laugh. "My job is to take care of a kid and the environment plays a big role."

(Y/N) picked up her bag, ready to leave for the night, "See you on Monday, Joel."

He reached out to touch her shoulder, then just as quickly removed his hand as if she had burned him. "Uh- do you- are you- um," She looked at him with furrowed brows, it's almost as if he was…flustered? "What are your plans for Christmas? Or, you know, holiday season? If you celebrate anything at all-"

"I won't be able to fly out to see my family this year, so I haven't made any other plans yet. Why do you ask?"

The man scratched his neck sheepishly, only then realising how long he had kept her standing on his porch when it wasn't exactly warm outside. "Would you like to celebrate with us? Sarah would be ecstatic to have you."

Warmth blossomed in her chest at the sudden invitation. So gifts are appropriate. Noted.

"I would love to celebrate the holidays with you guys. But only if you don't mind."

"I don't mind."

"Excellent, then I'll be here."

"Great."

"Good."

They stared at each other for way too long, the nanny realised, bearing the slightest of smiles. "Well, then. Good night, Mr. Miller."

He shook his head at her teasing tactic, "Drive safe, Ms. (L/N)."

There she was again, driving back to her apartment, giggling to herself like a maniac and for what? They invited her to celebrate a holiday. People did that all the time. Office workers, family members, casual friends, new and old lovers, it was truly nothing exceptional. But to her it felt different and she couldn't tell if it was because Sarah liked her enough to want her there or if it was because it came from him. Christmas was three weeks away. Three. Weeks. Away. Gifts. She needed gifts. What would she give them? What did they like? It came to her that she didn't know them that well, which meant she had some investigating to do in the little time she had left for shopping.

————-　❈　————-

When Christmas finally came, (Y/N) simply could not contain her excitement. She thought long and hard about the presents she would give the Millers, and while they may have appeared simple, she hoped that they would be appreciated. She personally wrapped them up in brown paper and decorated them with stamps, ribbons, and tags, firmly believing in the art of gift-wrapping. Austin had yet to see snow, she didn't think it would ever happen, yet the city was nevertheless bursting with festive spirit. Various lights decorated the trees and bushes in public parks. People hosted diverse markets in the streets where they sold artisanal goods and delicious foods. (Y/N) had gone ice-skating with the Millers a couple of weeks prior. Joel was as bad as she thought he would be; Sarah, however, was a natural. They enjoyed a lively Christmas parade that same day.

After parking in front of the house that was very tastefully decorated with her help, the young woman made her way towards the door, her homemade chocolate tarte in hand, and knocked, taking a second to register a male voice she did not recognise. The door swung open to reveal a man not much older than her, wearing a plaid shirt and dark blue jeans.

Looking her up and down, the stranger gave her a smirk, "And who might you be?"

"Hands off the babysitter, Tommy!" she heard Joel yell from deep inside the house.

"Ah, the famous babysitter!" he exclaimed, opening the door further. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

It smelled of oven-roasted turkey, of cigarette smoke, and of pine from the christmas tree. She found all of them moving about the kitchen: cutting vegetables, setting the table, washing the dishes. She felt like she'd arrived a tad too late.

"Can I help with anything?" she said, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room.

"Nah, everything's good to go," Joel replied as he scrubbed the remaining pots, "(Y/N), this is Tommy, my brother."

Said brother took her hand and placed a tender kiss on the back of it, "Very nice to meet you." Sarah couldn't hide her look of disgust if she tried.

"I didn't know Joel had a brother."

"You didn't tell her about me?" Tommy asked in exaggerated disbelief.

"Was I supposed to? Didn't know I was running a datin' agency."

"Thought that was part of the deal when we agreed to be each other's wingmen."

"Mm, don't recall us ever doing that."

"Well, we did. Spiritually. When we went to Buddy's Place? It was just around the time when Cat-" Tommy's monologue cut short with one sharp glare from Joel. (Y/N) could practically taste the tension emanating from him. Not a big fan of reminiscing the past, she noted.

"You know what, it's no problem. It's the perfect occasion to get to know each other, eh?" the younger brother flashed her a smile. They sure had impressive genes in this family.

Once the eldest Miller was done cleaning, all three adults cracked open a few cold ones to start off the evening. Tommy had the brilliant idea to teach Sarah a few card tricks, peaking their guest's interest.

"What are you teaching a 12-year-old cards for?" (Y/N) amusedly asked. Sarah seemed excited, she was one of those kids who loved to learn, it didn't matter what it was.

"First of all, every member of the Miller family knows how to play cards, we start young. And second, if not me, then who?" He made a good point. Tommy was, after all, the fun brother. "Wanna join in? I'm told I'm a great teacher."

She caught onto the subtle flirt and found herself wanting to return the energy. He was tall, he was dark, he was handsome. He smelled of cigarettes and beer with a hint of citrus notes. Not bad with kids but he wouldn't want any of his own anytime soon; very friendly, which for him also meant outgoing, ballsy, and prone to getting into trouble; charming to the point that he might seduce a few dozen women in one night; funny enough to make people like and maybe even trust him. She didn't mind flirting, but that was the extent of her intentions, and something told her Tommy Miller felt the same way.

They spent some time watching as Tommy performed the most outrageous tricks seen to man, to which his sole excuse was "I'm a bit rusty". He also tried to teach Sarah the art of cheating which, much to his disappointment and sorrow, his niece refused to take part in for moral reasons. (Y/N) noted the elder Miller's absence and excused herself from the oh-so-riveting demonstration of a disappearing card to go look for him. After searching the kitchen, his bedroom, as well as the garage, she stepped outside with a throw blanket and found him sitting on one of the patio chairs.

"What are you doing here? You'll get cold." he said, glancing at her from the side.

"I'm tougher than I look," she answered, nevermind the blanket tightly wrapped around her frame. "Came to keep you company."

"Who said I need any?" She sensed a hint of a playful tone.

"I don't know, you look awfully lonely sitting next to that empty chair." This earned her a light chuckle as she sat down. He didn't look very warm with one hand in his jacket pocket and his collar lifted up to his chin. She proceeded to awkwardly move her chair closer to his and slowly, as if dealing with a wild animal, reached out to wrap the throw around both of them, thankful that it was big enough for the job.

Sensing how still and tense he was, (Y/N) felt the need to talk to lighten the mood, "So, do you always sit outside all by yourself? In the dark? And in complete silence? Brooding-"

"I get the picture, and no," he took a sip from his bottle. "Sometimes I like to sit in my car."

He was capable of humour, which was a refreshing discovery after countless weeks of being formal. She understood wanting to define clear boundaries between employer and employee, but when she was essentially tasked to bond with his child and regularly invited to family activities, the lines naturally blurred, and her curiosity intensified.

"Who's Cat?"

Joel was silent for a second, then let out a reluctant sigh, "Cat was…a girl I knew way back when I was young."

"You're talking like you're in your 50s."

"I'm 34 to be precise, but fine, back when I was younger," he said grumpily. "We dated for a bit, then we didn't. That's how it went with most women I met."

"Oh, is this a Casanova situation?"

"No, more of a 'not ready to commit to a kid' situation," The silence that followed was loud, (Y/N) didn't want to make a sound, afraid he'd realise what he was doing and shut himself off. "I was 21 when Sarah was born. She's the joy of my life, I don't know what I'd do or where I'd be without her, truly. But...it was hard back then for a single dad with a newborn. Never went to college, had to take on side jobs to sustain both of us. My love life wasn't exactly a priority, and when the opportunity presented itself, they fled as soon as they heard the mention of a child."

The next question was risky, but she couldn't think of anything else, "So you haven't dated since your younger days? Not even the hot single moms in your area?"

This made Joel laugh heartily, a sound she loved to listen to, something she wanted to hear more often. "Not really. I mean I've flirted here and there, but Sarah and I are good the way we are now. She's my priority, and I want to make sure my partner's good to my kid too, you know?"

"If you don't mind my asking, what happened to Sarah's mom?" (Y/N) probed further, "Sarah told me-"

"Nothing happened. She left and that was that." The wall was back up. You pushed your luck.

Luckily for them, Sarah called for everyone to play cards. Which was then followed by board games. What they discovered that evening is that (Y/N) was either incredibly skilled at them or simply unbelievably lucky. She and Tommy got on well, making innocent physical contact here and there, high-fiving each other, sharing a lot of laughter, too much laughter for the man that sat across from them. Joel wasn't jealous, he was never jealous, but the sight didn't make him feel happy either.

After a while, the oven beeped, indicating that the turkey was ready. The four of them prepared the table with bowls of salads, bread slices, side-dishes, making space in the centre for the bird accompanied by roasted vegetables. (Y/N) joined in their prayer before they dug into their food. They shared all sorts of life stories: Tommy's time in the army, the most frustrating clients Joel had ever had, more embarrassing anecdotes from Sarah's childhood, funny and dramatic events that occurred while (Y/N) was on vacation. The young woman then brought out the tarte she'd made for the occasion, much to everyone's delight. It was as silky as she hoped it would be, tasting notes of coffee in her chocolate dessert covered in walnut crumbs. The ambience was relaxing, they sat under the dim light of the scented candles dispersed throughout the kitchen, bathing in the sounds of laughter and utensils scraping against the food on their plates.

When all was devoured, they moved the party back to the living room and Tommy decided it was time for presents. Sarah received hers first, which turned out to be a collection of CDs of her favourite musicians from Tommy and a skateboard she'd wanted for a long time from her dad. She hugged each of them very tightly, already excited to put both of her new belongings to use. Then it was Joel's turn to unwrap a brand new wallet gifted by his brother (apparently, he had complained about his old one he owned for more than a decade) and a second-hand guitar from Sarah that she acquired from a friend's cousin then paid for a cleaning by a professional with her own pocket-money (with a little help from uncle Tommy). Tommy received a steel lighter from Joel, who claimed the custom engraving – a hand-drawn cowboy hat on the front and T. Miller on the bottom – was Sarah’s touch. Just when everyone thought they were done, (Y/N) cleared her throat, calling for their attention, whilst dragging her bag closer to where she sat on the floor.

“I brought gifts of my own.” She declared and pulled out a box and gave it to Tommy, whom she'd met only hours ago. “I’m sorry, I took this just in case someone else would be here, but I wish I had gotten to know you sooner to customise the present to your taste- “

“Oh my sweet God,” he muttered, staring at the large crystal bottle of whiskey. “This is one of the fanciest kind around, it ain’t fuckin’ cheap either!”

“You’re lucky Tommy here is a whiskey connoisseur.” Joel said from his laid-back position on the couch.

The younger brother engulfed her in a warm hug soon after, “You got my taste just right, sweetheart, thank you.”

The room was silent as she extended a purple envelope to Sarah, who sat across from her. It didn’t seem all too exciting. The kid in question opened the envelope, eyeing her babysitter, who herself seemed a bit nervous. The silence in the room was suddenly broken as the 12-year-old squealed her hardest squeal, forcing both Millers to cover their ears.

“It’s two VIP tickets to the Halican Drops concert in Houston next year!” she exclaimed, launching herself at the now grinning woman. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“How’d you get those? I thought they were sold out.” her father asked, clearly having gone through the struggle of standing in long queues to make his daughter happy.

It was difficult to breathe with a prepubescent child sitting in your lap as she held you in a death-grip. “I have an old friend who happens to work at the venue.” she replied, accepting the kiss on the cheek from Sarah who sat back on the ground, practically buzzing as she stared at the pieces of paper in her hands.

Lastly, (Y/N) got up to stand in front of Joel as he looked up at the object she extended in complete surprise.

“You really didn’t have to- “

“Just open it.”

So he did. What he found inside was a Prussian blue knit scarf.

“I noticed you never wear one, and it’s pretty chilly out, so I figured I’d knit you one myself. Finished it just in time a couple of days ago. The color looks flattering on you.” she explained, blushing deeper and deeper with every word. She failed to notice that he, too, was heating up.

“Well, I’ll be damned. This woman can bake, she can knit, she’s smart, and she plays cards like a pro. I mean what can’t you do?” And while she knew Tommy was teasing, she couldn’t help but redden even more.

“I’m pretty proud of my mixing skills,” she added, making him pause with a face that read ‘no way’. “I’m a bartender on the weekends.”

She had barely finished her sentence when she yelped as Tommy scooped her up and over his shoulder. “That’s it! I’m taking this one with me. It was nice to see ya, big brother!”

(Y/N) squealed and wiggled around as much as she could to try to get him to let her down whilst Sarah did her best to save her friend by clinging to one of her uncle’s legs in protest. It was one chaotic scene unfolding in front of Joel, who had not moved from his seat, still staring at the scarf in his hands as he ran his thumb over the soft wool.

After all that excitement, the household members spent a few more hours watching ‘Home Alone 2’ and ‘Jingle All the Way’, DVDs Joel had bought earlier that week. During the viewing, he caught himself glancing at the woman curled up against the arm rest less than a few feet away from him. She remained completely oblivious, amused by the tomfoolery happening on-screen. He left the room for a moment to dispose of his empty bottle in the kitchen. On the short way there, he realised he was slightly tipsy. While he was rummaging through the drawers, he heard someone come up behind him.

“Looking for this?” he turned around to see (Y/N) holding up the bottle-opener. She walked up to the counter and opened the bottle in his hand, brushing her cold fingers against his warm ones in the process.

“You’re cold.” he commented bluntly.

“Yeah, my extremities get cold easily. That’s why I walk around in gloves and thick socks as soon as the temperature starts dropping.”

She threw away her own empty bottle and swiftly turned around to walk back into the living room, when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist ever so gently.

“I didn’t get to thank you back there. You know, for the present?” he spoke softly, giving her a rare smile. “It was real nice of you.”

She noticed the way his pupils were slightly wider than usual and his stance that seemed to swing back-and-forth ever so subtly. “Joel, are you…are you drunk?”

“It takes a lot more than a few bottles of IPA to get me there. I’m just fine.” he whispered, for what reason she wasn’t sure, then unexpectedly walked up the stairs to his bedroom. He didn’t leave her to contemplate her next actions for too long because he emerged not even a minute later, holding his right hand behind his back.

They found themselves standing closer than they should have, but neither of them seemed to care as Joel revealed the mystery object.

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

It was the most beautiful edition of ‘Jane Eyre’ she had ever laid her eyes on. Red leather hardback with golden accents all over it, including the fore-edges, it looked like something out of a royal library.

“How did you know?” her question was vague, but she knew he knew what she meant.

“Sarah told me about the books that you like, said you haven’t read this one in a long time.”

Her warm embrace came to him as a surprise, but in the state of mind he was in, not only did he accept it, but it felt good, it felt right to hug her back.

“It happens to be one of my favourites, so thank you. Really. For all of the things you’ve done for me so far.”

The two held onto each other for longer than needed until Tommy’s call brought them back to reality. The other Miller eyed the returning pair suspiciously as they took their respective places on the couch and went back to watching the movie in comfortable silence. Only he noticed the red book in her possession and fought hard to stop himself from smiling.

Later that night, after all the dishes had been washed, the leftovers put away, and the only child put to bed, Tommy reluctantly sat in the back of the cab Joel had called for him. I am not fetching my brother from a jail cell on Christmas Day, he'd told him. When he walked back into his home, he saw a sleeping figure on the couch, covered by one of the throws.

He went into his bedroom and took no more than 10 minutes to replace all of his linen with fresh ones from the closet in the hallway. He wasn’t going to let his guest sleep on a couch, especially not under a row of windows or next to the entrance door. Carefully picking her up, and she was one deep sleeper, he made his way back to his bed to lay her down on the new sheets.

My extremities get cold easily.

He changed his usual blanket for a thicker one then grabbed a pillow and went to make his bed downstairs. He picked up the scarf lying on the coffee table once more and unfolded it entirely, only then noticing the tiny initials embroidered in grey into one of the ends – J.M. Upon an even closer inspection, he realised it smelled of vanilla and flowers.

————-　❈　————-

masterlist: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

tags: @elliaze @joeldjarin

[bitchlessdino]

as my favorite dinonara, how do u feel abt chan fucking you to i don't understand but ily AND also murmuring the lyrics in your ear as he's thrusting into you???

An: Just read the eng lyrics and in accurate fashion, imagined it happening in Korean 😭 Personally, I’d walk into a burning building bc I’m already feeling hot from Chan 🥲🥲 (First instinct: why are you being unoriginal and using your lyrics at me???) Also these lyrics are roughly translated and restructured to make sense and annotated for my amusement

DNI INTERACT MINORS

When I saw you, the room stopped and my senses heighten. Only seeing you made my insides jealous of what I was seeing (And not feeling stgdhfjf)

*thrust* lol.

(Zoom) on your heavy scent, I'm more afraid that it will get erased in between thе dizzy words (yeah bc it’s such a good fuck 😭)

Biting your ear, caressing your body, plunging himself inside you. Already drunk on the power you held over him. He’s afraid to slur the words you already couldn’t understand.

No matter languages or times, you don't have to understand any of it. Just the password between us. It’ll open us both (literally and figuratively)(having a secret language with your partner whom speaks another language. Fuck )

Hands smoothing over your hot cheeks, drinking in your whimpers, your moans, his name of your lips but that sinfully beautiful way that made him want to fuck inside you deeper, harder. He catches the shedding tears under his thumb. (His name just happened to be one of the passwords)

With all the words that exists in the world its enough for just the two of us to know my greed for you. My growing feelings for you. (The way I would fucking collapse)

He'd pin you back on the bed, momentarily in control of you and his senses, until they slid over your palms and fingers are laced through yours. His grunts and moans embedded between each thick and intoxicating phrase was the only thing you could understand, but like he said, it was enough.

You know, there are more important things than words between us, right? (The way I would be alive and crying out of my p—)

The way it’s phrased as a question makes you impulsively nod. You could be signing a slave deal but it’d be fine also as it’d be with Chan and only Chan.

Look at it with your eyes closed. Feel you and me. Not bound by time or day…Us both together anywhere. (Anywhere anytime Chan I am here 👁️👁️)

Chan could hardly understand what he was saying but in the moment it’s how he felt, how you felt, how the world around you felt. He grinds down on hips, digging into and fragility of you slowing but surely coming apart for him. Liquid gold seeped through both you crevices, sweat of your skin sweet and salt as their stripped from his tongue gingerly. You whine a mess, throat flexing in real time as you tried staying focus on him, only him.

Even though I don't understand, I can know you

Somehow you know it too. His kisses sometimes delicate then turning ravenously, and you feel his teeth scrap over your pebbles skin before they create uneven grooves shaping into the perfect mark. For you, only you.

The language barrier is just an illusion. (This lmao gives me love talk vibes ‘ I can hear you calling’) You know that I also don't believe myself but you still believed in me

There was a time where you thought you were from two different worlds and didn’t expect to build a connection, yet here you were. Languages exchanged. Foreign words going to one ear and out the other. But somehow, someway, it all couldn’t be more crystal clear. The support system you found in one another what’s all you need to understand. And you found that clear hearing him, feeling him, tasting him tend to your to your every need.

Only inside of you I can bloom spreading my fire (EXCUSE MEEEE THE SAY I SCREAMED BTW ‘only inside you’ is a direct translation WTF)

You’re mumbling at this point, mind in a haze from tsunami of your climax, contorting you in his long, rooted thrusts as he’s bottoming out in you. His body crushes your body and your soul, aching to giving yourself to him in its entirety. There wasn’t a damn thing in the world that could tell you otherwise. His hands against you were pure magic, unattainable anywhere else, and his sweet lower timber touches every patch of your skin, making you hot with need. Even after you’ve succumb to one orgasm. He’s ready for another, and plentiful to give you until your body gives out for days just as he’s felt starved for days, weeks, years.

Chan’s not sure if you’re speaking in your language or if you were just that fucked by his raging, warmth inside you. He leans in again, face close, kissing you as desperate as you feel and finally in a language you do comprehend,

I don’t understand but I love you…I love you (there’s so much to unpack here, but yes, I’ll marry you)

This was so much fun!!! I’ve never done this before but I’m down to do it again! Also he’ll is especially hot for elv that put these rot thots in my head.

[m1d-45]

Asking The Important Questions and Answering:

-you still alive everybuddy?

~Yes, yours truly is alive, a year older for some time now already and suffering BECAUSE I'M MOVING WITHIN 2024!

-freshest news?

~i became an uncle/aunt for the 8th time, his name is (blank) and i'm VIBRATING! He's so tiny! And blonde and has these BIG eyes i wanna squish them! We're giving the parents a bit of themselves time but gosh i wanna gush over the wittle baby in person and not over pictures!

Anyways, do the people of teyvat celebrate babies?

We're celebrating in a few weeks!

-🥘Stew

waves!!!

minor spoilers for sumeru + natlan AQ, i use natlano instead of “” natlanese “”

1) i am still alive!!! somehow!!! however comma,

i am in college now!!! holy shit!!! and it has been HELL on my schedule be so fucking fr- i’m taking online classes and with the adhd you can imagine how that’s going (hint : bad). i’ve also just had a bunch of trouble that has killed my motivation (lotta personal stuff blah blah) and i’ve been falling back to less taxing blurbs rather than anything actually post-able. also as such i just have Not had the energy to answer asks,, i read them all and i love you everyone who sends them but i don’t wanna reply with the equivalent of “i ain’t reading that but good for you. or sorry that happened.” yk?

2) congrats on the new relative!!!! baby kids are WILD and i wish them good health.

for me… well, i’m finally getting a hold on things, and i can feel that i have more energy again, which i’m really excited about!! i’ve had some ideas SLOW COOKING for MONTHS that im very excited to serve!!! not really news though, just a Development,,,

(​yes it took me like 2.5 months to get a grip on things. it’s the autism. shhhhh)

for actual news.. uh, i learned that there’s a 10$ fee for getting locked out of your dorm! uhhh i have the object permanence of a d6, how obvious is it

3) i think like.. remembering that teyvat still uses oil lamps, of course they’re happy about children!!! different nations show it in different ways, though.

mondstadt is a very “it takes a village” city, so celebrations focus on allowing the parent to recover and preparing for their new life. lotta time off work and pages of advice, you know?

if mond is the present, liyue is the future. lotta focus on practices for good health — that vary between families, ranging from calming teas for the parent to necklaces with herbs tucked in the pendant for the child.

inazuma is… inazuma. post-decree lifting, though, things somewhat go back to normal adjacent. like liyue, it’s about a prosperous future, but in non physical forms. intangible blessing and faith over physical jade beads, you know?

the forests of sumeru are run by the akedemiya. wisdom does not take breaks, and neither should you. one brief event close after the birth is enough — the closest to modern baby showers. gifts given, the clock strikes, and that’s about it.

the deserts, however, follow mondstadt’s lead, especially in places such as aaru village. children are very communal, and even those without biological children are often parental figures. health for the parent while the child is raised with the others, the best childcare this side of the chasm.

fontaine is extravagant. for some of the richer families, lady furina herself would come down and personally wish the child well. lotta impractical, flashy gifts given over a too many days. it’s a social event, for those around the new family just as much as it is the child themself.

natlan is also very aggressively communal. nobody fights alone, after all, no matter the shape of their battle. celebrations consist of the tribe giving practical gifts, anything from clothes and food to a promise to be there when needed. specific preferences switch between the tribes — the people of the springs someone give seashell necklaces for good luck, the scions of the canopy a set of soft gloves, suitable for new skin while also sturdy enough to climb ropes with. natlano treat the parent the best, i think.

snezhnaya is small, private. close family and friends only, whispered prayers and tight, worried hugs. the everwinter is not kind, so it is made up for with the embers of what was once a tight knit community. they cannot give what they once could, cannot sing and knit and give blankets with blessings woven into the fabric, but they do what they can. they huddle around the fire, hoping against hope.

[fllagellant]

Tagged by my friend @aphoticfairy for Wip Wednesday ( come . Play Pretend with me . It is still Wednesday . )

Since I am nervous to tag anyone for this, please feel free to take this post as your invitation to join in if you wish ! ( also tag me so I can see , pease … )

Fic wip for a fic I like to call “ Wyll and Giilvas are going to get married also Ulder is scheming and Giilvas and Ulder are going to enact psychic warfare on each other “ it’ s a great working title !

——

The Ravengard estate. A rather proud, pompous building. Overlooking the sprawling gardens and the intricate stone archways. The hedge maze was a wonderful touch, maybe, when Ulder was younger and he would race through the hedges. Now, it was an all-consuming nightmare to keep trimmed. And it proves his internal compass has… lost its skills, so to say, he’s gotten lost many more times than he will admit.

The halls come alive at known intervals, for political parties. Or political meetings. Or for political holidays. Ulder has to pause and think hard about the last time a celebration occurred in these wall and it didn’t have some form of political weight. The resounding answer being never.

But. Nevermind that. It was still a few months off before anything should be happening. The next larger, world devorning event was the Feast of the Moon, and the many little events that it managed to spawn that Ulder was left trying to herd like righteous tressyms. Which is to say, poorly, with many colourful words, and he ends up tripping over his own feet.

He had just managed to survive the screaming, meowing, forever pissed off hoard of metaphorical tressyms for Highharvestide, and was rather content to spend a few days in bed. Dead to the world. Or in his study. Dead to the world. Or in the gardens. Once again. Dead to the world.

So he was rather concerned when he awoke to a frantic set of knocks on his study door. Reading spectacles clattered on oak floor, book that was laid politely on his lap joining them, Ulder jolted to attention when one of the maids creaked the door ajar. Blue eyes peering inward like a child, checking to see if her parents are sleeping.

“Sire? We have word of visitors. I think they’ll wish to see you, when you’re available, of course.”

She doesn’t push the door open any further, but she does not close it either. Just offers a bow of the head, and her quick footsteps mark her rapid descent down the hall.

Ulder manages to blink a few times, vision taking pity and unblurring after the third try. If he can see, then he can hear. And if he can hear, he can retroactively acknowledge what the maid-girl just said. And if he can acknowledge what was just said…

By the Gods. Give him mercy.

Highharvestide had just concluded. No one was supposed to be coming around. Unless… no. No, the ball was perfect. There would be no way any self-respecting noble would send a pageboy to deliver a message of displeasure. Not so soon, anyhow.

But maids and watchguards do not go into a state of panic over a pageboy, so who could it…?

Putting the window to use, finally pushing the lovingly embroidered curtains to the side- ah, good afternoon to you as well, shower of dust- and he tries to focus his eyes to the horizon.

There is… something! There is something coming up the front path.

He needs his glasses. Damnable things.

By the time he manages to save them from their temporary spot on the cold floor, hips be damned he can manage that bend, the something is further up the path.

Ulder gives the lenses the old one-two swipe with the cloth of his shirt to get rid of anything unneeded smudges, and finally places them back on the bridge of his nose.

Oh. By the Gods.

It’s Wyll. His boy, Wyll Ravengard. Coming up the path with singed armour and a travel pack slinging over his shoulder. He’s grinning, the lingering autumn warmth slowing his pace as he approaches. He looks well. Very much so, since the last chance Ulder had to see him. Would have brought a tear to his eye. If there wasn’t a concern pushing at the base of his skull- joyous! A migraine is already coming on.

Wyll wasn’t the concern. Wyll wasn’t the reason Ulder was feeling the need to call upon the Triad.

The hulking other, a step behind his son? That was the reason.

The Golden Rose. Giilvas Quickfoot. His boy’s betrothed. Ulder’s nightmare.

Ulder wanted to scrunch his face. In fact, he does allow his nose to wrinkle and his lips to go tight. But if he can see them, they can see him. And, since the Fates have made the decision that Ulder is their current focus of tortures, Wyll’s betrothed is scarily perceptive.

So, if he was to snarl from his study, far above them, Giilvas would see it. And made sure Ulder knew.

Instead, with an air of calm and I don’t care that you’re coming up my walk and will be inside my estate, Ulder yanks the dusty old curtains back in place. Then, he allows himself to scowl at the old embroidery that dances across the fabric. He swears he can see those mismatched eyes of the Rose staring back at him in the tapestry. And he swears they’re laughing at him.

With a dizzying clarity that he, Duke Ulder Ravengard, is about to pick a fight with his curtains, he pulls away. There’s a warm rush of embarrassment across his neck. He’s acting like a child. Get it together, he scolds himself.

It is a blessing that his boy and his… boy-in-law? Were coming for a visit. They’ll probably spend the night out at the tavern, and they’ll spend only an hour or two here.

Ulder smooths out the wrinkles in his shirt, and affirms his thoughts. He would not demand Wyll stay the night here. And besides, this was just a visit. It wasn’t like the two of them were coming to the estate with world-changing news. The two of them were travellers- one of which had Ulder’s respect, but that was besides the point- they’d probably be seen leaving Baldur’s Gate by the dawn of the ‘morrow.

Now, time to take his place in the foyer, and wait for his welcomed guests to step inside.

——

“Father, we plan to be wedded!”

Ulder Ravengard was going to smash something. Over his head? Over the head of the smug man clinging to his son? Both of them?

Yes. Both of them, he decides. But, since the Fates chose that their newest decree would make it so no butler bearing two heavy bottles of wine came through the foyer at that instant, Ulder chose the high road.

He smiles, he knows it isn’t quite reaching his eyes but what can he do, and he nods like a village fool at the excitement in Wyll’s voice. There was something soft in his chest, seeing his son so… happy. He truly desires this, he wants the wedding. And he wants his father to know. It was sweet and Ulder wondered why he was so bitter a moment ago.

“Of course, this means I am here to ask for your permission, Mr. Ravengard.”

Suddenly, and without warning, Ulder Ravengard was bitter again. Wonder who caused that.

Giilvas kept a large hand almost permanently interlocked with Wyll’s, and Ulder has half a mind to tell him that Wyll isn’t going to run away on him. But the other half?

Oh.

Oh. It was planning. Spinning a web, even. Laying a dastardly trap. And the Rose would walk right into it.

“Of course. It would be wrong of me to deny you both from each other. But… May I make a request?” Ulder notes how Giilvas nods rather enthusiastically. And how Wyll nods, but slower. Brow furrowing just enough to faintly recrease his forehead. By the Helm, was he already onto him? Ulder didn’t think he was that predictable.

Well, he cannot back down now. He was the Duke, dammit. Dukes do not tuck tail and run.

“I would like to aid in the wedding. You’ll,” and Ulder locks his eyes with Wyll, making sure the fact that the you in this case is singular well known, “ have full access to our coffers for planning. We can even host the ceremony here. The garden can be kept alive by magic, you see-“

“You make it sound like we’ll be wed in the winter.” Giilvas cuts in, and Wyll eyes his father knowingly. Too knowingly. Ulder, suddenly, finds the wall behind Wyll far easier to lock eyes with.

“I was getting to that. You see, to make sure this wedding is perfect, you’ll both have to stay here. Allows us all to plan and have everything ready. It will be perfect, between Uktar thirtieth and Nightal first.”

Wyll sucks in a gasp.

“But that’s the Feast of the Moon-“

Giilvas’ eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, things slotting into place with Wyll’s words.

“You plan to wed us on the night for the Ball of the Moon.”

Clever boy.

“I think it would be grand. Wouldn’t it?” It also gives him the time to try and scare away the rapscallion that is trying to take his boy from him.

But, in a twist that Ulder feels more shock at the fact he did not see this coming, rather than the twist itself, Giilvas smiles at him. Not really a smile, top lip pulled too far back and it seems to refuse to reach his eyes, but he made the face all the same. It is the thought that counts.

“It’s a deal, gracious Duke Ravengard.”

Oh, the boy wishes to play the game with him? So be it.

Wyll eyes the both of them as they seal the deal with a shake. He is aware, the third party always is, but that only means Ulder will have to choose subtly. Espionage can win a war. It wasn’t like Giilvas knew how to navigate a noble home or the ecosystem of one. He has home advantage- literally.

He holds his potentially probably not son-in-law’s gaze for a few moments that last a century, seeing if he’ll shy away from the eye contact. When those mismatched eyes start to look like they’re laughing at him, Ulder releases the hand and turns to call for someone else.

“I’ll make sure a bed is prepared for you, my good man. And Wyll? Your room is the same as when you left. Make yourself comfortable once more, my son.”

He makes a mental note to tell the maid to make up Giilvas’ room on the opposite wing of the estate. Good luck avoiding squeaky floors in the night, foolboy.

For now, he guides the boys to deposit their belongings and encourages them to shed the heavier layers of armour. Might as well let them have as much comfort as they can now.

Hell stained metal and fabric collect alongside their travel bags, and Ulder holds his tongue. He will ask his son about it all later. The battles. The terrors. The cruelty. Now was not the time for any of it. Especially not when his son was still buzzing with the energy of announcing the plan for marriage.

“Father, are the gardens in good shape right now?”

Ulder knew was Wyll was asking for, and he reminded himself of the eye bags under Giilvas’ eyes. They both must be exhausted. And it would be cruel and unusual to try and being the warfare when one party was in poor condition. Ulder was nothing, if not a merciful man.

“Oh, go ahead Wyll. Everything will be taken care of in here.”

That damn warmth spread in his chest, seeing Wyll relock his hand with Giilvas’ own. He gives a tug, pulling the larger man along, and Ulder cannot help but sigh wistfully when Wyll mentions the maze to Giilvas. They’re going to get lost in there. Ulder knows it to be true.

But, with them both gone and busy, Ulder can plan with no risk of ever-watchful eyes catching him.

How does one drive away a man like Giilvas Quickfoot. It was time to delve into the worlds of speculation and trial and error.

He won’t be empty handed.

[seth-burroughs]

Anyway... headcanon post: Yomi is cognitively impaired. Sources? the depths of my twisted mind ;3

Sometimes has quote unquote good days where his symptoms don't get as severe (or he/others don't think they do), sometimes he gets worse, it varies on the phase on the moon, the earth's axis and the horoscope. (according to Guillaume, it's all because he's a libra) (he attempts to squash her like a bug every time but she's just too fast man.....)

Slow reaction times (although it gets weird sometimes). Sometimes it's delayed by just a second or a few, sometimes for way more which causes problems ranging from mild annoyance to literally almost dying via honda tire. An example of this is when he might walk to a crosswalk, forgets that he actually needs to check if any cars are coming, walks onto traffic, oh look a car. He notices a car car coming, stops, knows he should move out of the way in that scenario, but it just doesn't occur to him to do that, and he just stands there staring almost completely frozen, deer-style, until finally either, A.) he realizes "oh shit I'm about to get ran over so that's what's happening maybe" and fucking bolts to the side at literal last minute, or B.) the driver stops for him and is about to leave the car and scream at him about it, before noticing that's the director and almost shitting themselves from raw fear then profusely apologizing. You know those crosswalks at Kanai Ward, that detect pedestrians and stop oncoming traffic for them? While they were mostly created for the citizens, an also big reason why they were able to exist is because the Yomi Squad funded it so well in order to stop him from killing himself one day. The bicycle paths are still a problem though and have claimed many of his bones to this day

Knows the city pretty well (allegedly), and is able to get around via yomi autopilot. He just walks with zero (or extremely irrelevant) thoughts in his head, not paying attention to almost anything, just getting guided by habit/reflex/walking on the same path so often he just memorizes when to turn or enter while not even having to look where he's going, you get me right? He'll probably be fine. As long as he doesn't snap out of it and regain consciousness. In that case he's reminded he exists, looks around, thinks "where the fuck am I", remembers what he's supposed to do after a moment, but then forgets how he even gets there in the first place and is effectively lost. So what he does is to recount every single detail, instruction and direction in which path he usually takes to get him to a point where he is currently (which might. take a While), and then he finally remembers where he is and can carry on as usual. Do NOT disturb him in this state or he will completely lose his train of thought and get incredibly pissed he has to do it all over and violently take it out on you or perhaps even everyone around too.

^How he deals with the above things is that he simply very, very rarely travels without somebody else, which either Martina or F-Zilch (not counting occassional Cop Entourage as that's a bit different). If they aren't available, he either picks some other (preferably quiet, the chatty types are always the most insufferable) employee of his, or just goes alone or refuses to leave his house at all that day.

Sometimes when someone is speaking to him he can feel that he's not gonna register any word of what they're gonna say and just loses focus. No, he won't ask them to repeat themselves, that's for pussies like Seth, if he didn't hear whatever it is they wanted to tell him then maybe it just isn't that important. Maybe.

Takes an awful long time to shower, as soon as his skin makes contact with water he ceases awareness of existing and he has to wait until he remembers he's alive until he keeps going. (though that isn't the sole reason as to why he cannot do it faster. but it's a part in it)

Tries to make an effort to keep track of important events via lists, reminder notes and planners, or frequently ends up asking his vice director Martina about certain things that happened beforehand (if they did at all) or are about to happen, since he's for sure not gonna remember that himself. Usually, at least. Sometimes he does have his memory down to every detail but only concerning certain things his shit brain cares about more, such as "during that exact time that evening Seth blinked at you rather disrespectfully" or "here's that masked freak's speech to you that morning, perfectly recalled, down to the last detail, for you to dissect and get mad about for the remainder of the week"

All of these annoy, stress out and infuriate him greatly

[wintermarmalade]

Apricity

God, everything hurts. Am I in a bed of charcoals? Where is this? Her thoughts were slow and disorganized, head filled with mud. She strained to open her eyelids and take in her surroundings. She was in a large, unfamiliar bedroom. It contained a modest dresser, vanity, bookshelf, and a table lined with jars of plant materials and writing utensils. A soft light filtered through a curtained window to her side. It was all so clean and organized, unsettlingly clean, in fact. She felt... out of place here. She thought about lifting herself up, but it only took a twitch of her hand shooting a sharp pain up her arm to tell her that was a bad idea.

Memories of the ritual she performed started filtering through the static. Oh, that's why I hurt. She wasn't sure if she wanted to remember more.

She glanced down to see what she could of her body. A thick blanket covered most of it, but she could see the mosaic of red, angry lines on her shoulders reaching down her arms, as well as the charred sigils on her chest. The wounds seemed to be several days old, at least, but were also freshly cleaned. Am I.... dead? Still stuck with this cursed body? Figures.

The door to the room opened quietly, and a white figure entered and gently shut the door behind it. Her eyes couldn't focus well enough to make out it's details, but the room itself seemed to brighten when it entered. A warm, coddling comfort began to flow within her, and the aches in her body seemed to calm a little. This must be an angel, and I'm definitely dead.

The form approached with an ethereal grace and silence as it's features came into focus. It's skin was lustrous and pale, hair long and silvery-white, it wore a small but ornate snow-lace dress, and had angelic wings elegantly draped down it's back. It's face bore a soft, caring smile, and it's eyes were a glittering dark blue that reflected light like a sapphire star. Star... sapphire... oh..... OH..... Is this the doll?! Alive? My ritual worked?

The angelic doll pulled a small stool from under the bed and sat next to her, her porcelain skin and ball-jointed hands now apparent. "I see you've awaken, Nyx. How are you feeling?" Her voice was impossibly silky and gentle, it felt otherworldly.

Her question didn't register, she was frozen, trying to process so many things at once. How... how could this have been made from myself? She's so radiant, so divine.

She stared in awe for several moments before managing to express the most urgent question in her mind. "Why am I here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I ripped my soul apart to make you, the remaining pieces should've been scattered after my body gave out and died, I'm not supposed to be here." Sharp pains all over her face reminded her of the cuts there, and that she shouldn't be getting too worked up.

"You did nearly bleed out, I was worried that I wasn't even able to stop enough of it in time." She said with a touch of fear in her voice. "But it would seem that your body and soul are more resilient than you expected, even if just barely."

"But..... why? Why save me?" She asked in exasperation.

"You are my other half, I want you to be here with me." She expressed genuinely, enough for Nyx to nearly believe it.

"You are all the good that was left in me. All the good that I ripped out, I am all the bad that was left behind. There's nothing in me to want." She winced in pain from moving her face too much again.

The doll looked at her with a deep sadness in her eyes, "I don't think it's so simple, Nyx."

Nyx thought for a moment, but was too exhausted to dwell on it much more.

The doll sighed softy and turned to pull a mortar and pestle out from the nightstand drawer along with a mixture of herbs and started slowly grinding them. "I was throwing out your old bandages before you woke up, this will go beneath your new ones once it's ready. I hope it doesn't sting too much."

Nyx closed her eyes and tried to sift through her muddy brain without much success before remembering that she had no idea where they were.

"Wait, where are we?"

"You don't recognize it? This is your room. It was a disaster, so I cleaned it up. Don't worry, everything is organized the way you used to do it."

"Oh.... um, thank you." She responded unsurely. She had forgotten how pretty all the engravings she had made in the floor were. It still felt inappropriately neat, however.

"You seem to know who I am."

"Of course, we share all the same memories up until the night we split."

"......Makes sense. Sooo, what should I call you?"

"I've been thinking about that, and I think I would like the name Apricity."

"Apricity... okay. It's pretty."

"I thought so too." She said with a blush. "Are you ready for the salve? It'll sting a lot, and there's a lot of area to cover." Apricity asked with a gentle worry.

Nyx gave her an incredulous look and gestured to the rest of her body with her head. "I'm sure I can handle it."

Apricity looked at her with concern, but trusted her, and began ever so tenderly rubbing the paste on her arm. Nyx tensed from the immediate sting, but took a slow breath and kept herself still.

"Is this okay?" Apricity asked softly.

"Fine." She responded through slightly clenched teeth.

As she continued applying the salve up her arm and onto her shoulders, Nyx began to embrace the stinging and relax her muscles a bit. While intense, there was something satisfying, almost soothing even, about the pain underneath her cold porcelain fingers. Once done, she quietly walked around the bed to treat her other arm and shoulder, then very carefully lifted the blankets to the end of the bed with extra care to not let them rub on her skin, exposing the rest of Nyx's wounds.

She couldn't help but notice Apricity pause wistfully in view of the elaborately cut patterns and burn marks running up and down every part of her body, as if staring at a just-shattered vase. While it only lasted a brief moment, the apparent concern for her body was unfamiliar, and in contrast to Nyx's indifference.

She continued with the burns crossed over her chest and stomach, then inch by inch went down her hips all the way to hey ankles

"You're doing so good, are you still okay?" Apricity asked in a somewhat motherly tone.

"Mhm."

"Good, just one more spot, when you're ready."

Apricity waited for her nod before reaching out to brush her dark hair out of her face, Nyx wincing at the touch. She then lightly traced her forehead and brow back and forth until the salve was rubbed in, then gently massaged the marks on her cheeks.

"All done! You took it wonderfully."

Nyx's only response was a deep exhale.

"How are you feeling?" Apricity asked, a bit quieter.

".......Tired." She looked like she was ready to pass out.

"Good, you still need rest. Just close your eyes and relax while I wrap you back up."

The angel's voice drifted through her mind and stilled any wayward thoughts as she sank back into the mud.

[starwarsanthropology]

Ordo and/or Maze for the headcanon game <3

i am very excited to put these motherfuckers in a jar and shake

Ordo

Headcanon A:  realistic

He’s a huge snacker. Loves 2 munch and snack moreso even than the other clones, who are all Noted Lovers Of Food. If he learned to bake or cook he would  have little finger-food type snacks on hand at every available opportunity, like muffins or cookies or little savory puff pastry bite type things. Will share if he has lots, and enjoys the compliments (or if he didnt make it, might bask in Caretaker Pride), but if he only has a little he gets really food defensive. I think the minute he gets the aging cure and his metabolism slows down he starts to get a little chubby bc he’ll eat for pleasure instead of just the food is fuel mentality all of them learned on rations. Teasing results in a (credible) threat to be banned from home cooking forever.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

As he gets older and sees more of the world (and gets therapy yessir) he stops putting so much stake in Kal’s opinions (of both him and others) starts viewing Kal’s bullshit social views and his “family values” stuff especially as silly and kind of rote prattle. Very “sure grandpa, let’s get you to bed”. On the other hand as soon as his brothers say some shit it’s on sight. He is going to train them out of casual misogyny if it kills them.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

I think that as much as he does love Kal and does know he and the other Nulls are loved by Kal, he intentionally places himself as a buffer between them. It started as habit on Kamino, because they were all protecting each other from the Kaminoans, and when Kal adopted them Ordo got the most immediate focus, which let the others build up their trust and boundaries in their own time in a way Ordo didn’t really get to have, partially bc Kal had earmarked Ordo as the ‘leader’ of the group. And then even when he was their buir, he was still the only reason they were alive instead of decommissioned or reconditioned, so Ordo was constantly trying to run interference so he’d get blame, because Kal is bad at not playing favorites, and Ordo was kind of the favorite. Obviously there was never any risk of anything but being yelled at and running extra drills, but it took a long time to internalize that. Even as an adult, part of him is still really stuck into this role, where he and Kal both see himself as sort of his brothers’ keeper, and it actually stresses him out a lot, not that he really recognizes that until he starts to unlearn the habits. The rest of the nulls are all aware of this and are varying levels of okay with it, amused by it, and bothered by it. If he didn’t have this formative experience I think he’d have settled into a middle brother role with a side of still being overprotective of his siblings.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

I think he is a bratty bottom in his heart of hearts.  He needs a chance to be unrestrained and Bad tm and to be rewarded and praised when he’s good and for his partner to work for him to give them control by prooving that they aren’t going to toss him away when he isn’t compliant and useful to them. Also hes so used to being in charge and in a position of responsibility he deserves to hand himself over to someone and get fucked so good he cries about it

Maze: I don’t have very many out there thoughts on Maze. he seems like he has his shit together moreso than just about anyone else in Republic Commandos its very funny to me that he keeps being cast as like. Having arguments in opposition to the protaganists bc i think his points make more sense than theirs

Headcanon A:  realistic

One of the more emotionally intelligent and self-aware clones. I do not think this is because he’s inherently good at emotions though I think he used to repress the shit out of them but he’s pragmatic enough that once the war started and he noticed his preformance slipping he went and got himself, if not a therapist, some psychology readings and at-home exercises for like. processing emotions and stress and navigating both workplace and personal relationships. Half of it is irrelevant to him but he gets a lot of milage out of some of the tools to manage frustration and interpersonal communication. 

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

As one of the more patient alphas, I think Maze was often tasked to wrangle younger cadets and therefore has a grade-A Teacher Voice as well as a grade-A Command Voice. He does not use it often bc he learned it for like. baby cadets who cry when u yell at them and need to be treated more gently, but sometimes when he’s really tired and/or has been interacting w kids you’ll get Teacher Maze with higher pitched, gentler voice, pitched to carry exactly as much as when he’s booming orders, saying things like “Alright everyone, it’s curfew and you have to get to bed now!”. Hilariously, almost everyone under his command find it scarier than the Command Voice bc they think he’s being passive aggressive and are terrified to find out what happens if you cross Teacher Mode Maze. Really he’s just out of it, did the wrong code switch, and is more likely to give someone a pat on the head reflexively than anything else. 

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

i honestly can’t think of anything. Maze seems so practical and reliable to me I can’t think of anything heart-crushing compared to the horror that order 66 must have been for him

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

Not a headcanon but I want him to have those gamer girl cat ear headphones so bad

[author-a-holmes]

Fantasy Indies April 6th

1st | 2nd | 3rd | 4th | 5th | 6th | 7th | 8th | 9th | 10th | 11th | 12th | 13th | 14th | 15th | 16th | 17th | 18th | 19th | 20th | 21st | 22nd | 23rd | 24th | 25th | 26th | 27th | 28th | 29th | 30th

(Today's post includes a Darkling Snippet, so I'm tagging the taglist <3 If you want to be added or removed from the taglist, just let me know)

@faelanvance @noirepersonal @queen-kass-the-writer @athenswrites @thelaughingstag @minamoroz @bardic-tales @outpost51 @talesfromaurea @jezifster @ettawritesnstudies

Stumbled over a prompt list for Fantasy Indies on Instagram, so I thought it'd be fun to take part in the list of April's prompts and questions...

April 6th - Saturday Snippet! Word to Find is: "Demand"

This works pretty much like a "Find The Word" tag game, but with only one word to find. So without further ado, a Darkling Snippet...

When Lizzy felt the ground beneath her feet slow to a stop, it took a moment for the world to come back into focus and she stumbled. It was only Connor's grip still firm on her arm that kept her from falling over entirely and she had to bend double and gasp for breath to keep her lunch. "Breathe deeply, Lizzy. I'm sorry," Connor said softly. "It's always jarring for fey to blur, but I needed to accommodate your companions' demand." The reminder that she'd been forcefully removed from the hall, when [Redacted] had the answers she'd been seeking for months, had her struggling, wrenching her arm away from Moore's grasp with a snarl of her own. "She's my mum! I have a right to know what's—" "And if she has been tortured? Brutalised? If she was alive, but is now dead? Do you wish to hear these things directly? Or do you wish me to find the information and relay it to you after I am certain there is nothing further being concealed from you?"

(Promptlist for the rest of April can be found at the bottom of this post)

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[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

Ok. Now I gotta get the director’s cut on your fic “12 Hours”

Was it a result of another sudden hyper focus? Or were you planning it and letting it marinate in your brain awhile?

12 hours

Ah yes, thank you for asking!

It’s funny you ask that specifically because it’s kind of— both? I initially only wrote the last 2 hours and the style was very different than what ended up in the final draft. Either way, at some point after writing the first 2; my brain was like “Hey! How about we write ALL TWELVE HOURS LIKE THE TITLE SAYS! WON’T THAT BE FUN!?” And I cried because yes, it would be fun but it would also take wayyyy more time to finish. Alas, at some point I wrote the first six hours before getting stuck on the break. So at that point, it had been marinating for a while. And then Flash day rolls around and I really wanted to post something for it— wrote the entire break and then some, also editing parts of the last two hours. I wrote it from 12-4 am and did not sleep that night. But it was worth it because I posted something for Flash day. So now that that’s been answered— onto the commentary!

I wrote this entire fic in my notes app, there’s an outline in my docs somewhere but it really wasn’t followed at all.

The hour by hour format was my genius way to simultaneously get into Barry’s current headspace AND gave me a set amount of writing needed for each one which was extremely helpful.

His kidnapper had attached each of his wrists to the front bar of a cosmic treadmill and given him one command in a monstrous voice: “Run.”

Some background: in this universe, instead of training and motivating Barry to get faster, Zoom decides the most efficient way is to make him run all day every day. This concept is somewhat adapted from my age old idea of season 1 Thawne putting Barry in a hamster wheel and just forcing him to get faster whether he wants to or not. Obviously the hamster wheel, while funny, isn’t really the right vibe but the premise is similar.

And it’s never mentioned in the fic; but he is getting faster. Zoom’s plan is working and Barry may as well be a dead man running because once Zoom gets what he needs from him; there’ll be no need to keep him alive this time around.

Originally, Jesse and Jay weren’t going to be there because there was no reason for it. Both narratively and in-universe but both of those changed in a way. Narratively, it’s fun to play with Barry’s guilt and self sacrificing tendencies. In-universe, it’s just one more way to keep him trapped. He’s not going to run away if he knows innocent people would be hurt because of it.

But even when this weak and close to powerless, he could still protect them. No matter how exhausted he was, something inside Barry gave him the courage and energy —anytime Zoom made so much as a move toward the other two— to direct their captor’s attention to him. It always left him worse off, bruises and sometimes cuts littering his body. It didn’t matter, he could heal even if it still hurt. Always better me than them.

I’ll admit. This was, in part, my whump gremlin ass hijacking a little bit. BUT it’s those self sacrificing tendencies I mentioned. It’s honestly a huge part of his character so I’m very glad I put it in. Also, that innate need to protect people which is arguably the most prominent trait of his character. Ah poor Barry.

A wave of weakness came over him as the dampeners took effect. It slowed him down just enough to prevent phasing.

Although hostages are an excellent way for Zoom to keep Barry trapped; he’s not stupid enough to just leave him to his running. I knew I needed something that could both prevent his escape and keep him at the treadmill— while allowing him his speed. Lightbulb moment as I remembered the cuffs Thawne used in 1x17 that appeared to do exactly that.

02:59:00

Help me.

02:55:59

Please. Someone come find me, please—

02:54:59

I have to keep going. I can’t. I don’t have a choice.

This was a fun little tidbit I decided to add in to emphasize that Barry is really Not Ok right now. These kind of thoughts happen extremely often and are similar in wording each time. He’s tired, he’s done, he’s been waiting on a rescue for who-knows how long and has pretty much lost hope on that miracle. He’s not quite accepted his fate but that makes the lack of choice so much worse.

Get up or he’ll hurt them. Legs shaking so violently, he got to both feet, began to run, and caught up with the treadmill.

Another very intentional choice. Not sure if it’s canon that did it or maybe it was another fanfiction not sure (or hell— maybe I’m projecting. Who knows)— but I love making Barry’s main motivation protecting others. Perhaps it’s the general lack of self preservation he seems to have. Sparing himself of more pain wasn’t enough, his companions would pay for it if Zoom caught him not running (it happened before and that was the one time he couldn’t protect them. Well, Jesse in this case.) and that’s what he needed to keep going.

There was one last rule. If he stopped on the first run, he wasn’t allowed to feed himself. If he stopped on the second run, as he just had— Zoom would leave him cuffed overnight, and Barry had to sleep like this.

Just some more comfortability motivation for him to keep running because Zoom’s a dick and so am I

With that reminder, he released a dry sob between pants, with energy he most certainly didn’t possess. Sobbed because he’d been here for so long, and he was so tired, and he just wanted to go home.

Crying would have been a waste of energy before now, Barry doesn’t let himself do it until the 12 hours is up.

The penny landed on heads for unhappy ending sorry (jk, it was just the vibe)

Last thing I’ll leave you with is I was this 🤏 close to adding a rescue. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about writing another chapter with just that…

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

[canayams-art]

it's meee, the qianqing anon✨ it certainly been a while since ive been in your asks jsjdjdjd the uni has been crazy and the finals were approaching so i had to force my focus on studying instead of screaming about my faves to anyone who was willing to listen :") but now that that's out of the way for a while now because the second semester has already started, im free to go back to my deranged brainrots sjejejejjeke

OH I ALMOST FORGOT very very late merry christmas (if you celebrated) and happy new years!! 🎉🎉

im rewatching the second season of tgcf at the moment and im going crazy over the small lqq moments i missed in my first watch wjejejek he's just such an amazing character and soo 😍 i love/hate that im now restarting the angst 😭😭

SOMEHOW I ALSO MISSED THE BRIEF BLURRY SHI WUDU CAMEO AND I WAS SCREAMING ABOUT IT FOR HALF AN HOUR TO MY FRIEND!! I CANT WAIT TO SEE HIM IN HIS FULL CORRUPTED GLORY IF WE EVER GET GHE BLACK WATER ARC ANIMATED!! he actually might be in my top three favorite characters from tgcf even if i don't talk about him nearly as much as i talk about mq

anyways. LQQ!! i know i already watched everything and i know that i know what's going to happen but man i am not prepared to go through that again! while i am EXTREMELY glad that we got to see him boil qr alive AND slice him in half, THE PAIN THE ANGUISH THE CONFLICT JWJWIEKEKKEJJE

i don't think i will be getting him out of my head anytime soon :")) im even more salty that he doesn't get a more important scenes later in the series :((

unfortunately ive been a bit brain-dead because of the most boring subjects in the world ughhh so i don't have any new lqq and mq thoughts :(( if you do pls share with me, im dying for every crumb of creativity available skkekekeke

also idk if i mentioned this in my last ask, but it makes me so happy that both you and your followers like these little lqq/mq rants 🥹 it makes me excited to share whatever new idea pops into my brain and know that there are somewhere ppl who get just as excited about them as i do

anyways, i hope you're doing well!! 😽😽

Welcome back qianqing anon!!!

I hope finals went well for you and that you’ve been able to catch your breath again. I also hope you enjoyed the holiday season!

Every time I see or think about donghua lqq I feel so grateful to the production team for depicting the way lqq feels and expresses himself so intensely. I know we all know this by now but his arc really is my favorite within the entire story,,, 🥹 It’s a shame we really only see him in the early chapters and the final ones— I genuinely think his story could easily be its own novel/extra.

Also where does shi wudu show up???! If it’s later in s2 then I haven’t spotted him yet cos I,,,,, still haven’t gotten around to finishing s2 (life got in the way of quality time in lqq land 😭). I feel you though— I find shi wudu interesting in such a way where I love his character but I also feel he 100% got what was coming to him LMAO. Blackwater arc is gonna be so wild to see.

But!! Back to qianqing lol. I was thinking earlier about the fact that lqq answers any personal communication array regardless of who is contacting him. Meanwhile mq haunts the public communication array but gives this vibe that not a lot of people have access to his personal array,,,, made me think about how mq seems like the type who always reaches out to lqq privately, knowing that lqq will always answer, but refuses to give his password in return. Lqq probably asked him once and mq probably told him something like “It’s pointless when I know you’ll answer me no matter what.” (Bonus: maybe mq finally decides to hand his password over when lqq ends up going down to the mortal realm to seek his revenge— like it’s mq’s way of telling lqq that he’s concerned but without flat out saying he’s concerned for lqq LOL)

Anyway! Please always feel free to slide into the inbox. I may be slow to reply to these but they really do make my day. The qianqing brainrot never sleeps 😂

[kuwdora]

part 4: do it for the process - a naked vid draft: What (Yennefer of Vengerberg)

Part 1: introduction and verse 1 Part 2: verse 3 Part 3: verse 1 and chorus 1 again Hello, it's WIP Wednesday! This is part 4 of my "naked vid draft" aka where I share snippets of my vid in progress and write some commentary about it. I made this vid over the weekend. It was the perfect project to sink into for some escapism and help reboot my brain from the Longest Week (Two Months) ever. I have any number of WIPs I could have jumped into but like most creatives, I started a new one because the others weren't going to scratch the itch the same way. Although sometimes I think about vid projects like writing. Some vids are more like drabbles--short and sweet, in and out in a minute or less (sometimes 30 seconds or less, so short!!). Some vids are more like ficlets--like this Yen vid--less than 3 minutes long. Other vids can be like actual novellas or novels--vids that are longer than 4 minutes (or 10 minutes! whole album vids!). I knew that making this Yen vid was going to be great for me right now because I could focus on season 2 Yen only. That's 8 episodes. Only a few scenes per episode. Easy to narrow things down and quickly drop the scenes on my timeline without needing to do much pre-work (thinking/storyboarding, technical work of labeling all my clips from multiple seasons or shows/films). I already had 25% of Yen from season 2 already clipped from my previous Yen/Jaskier vid so it was easy to jump in and get to work putting things on my timeline. I also like to think about the process of making vids with other creativity-related metaphors. Sometimes I'm basically working on a coloring page and shading things in with my own colors (like this Yen vid). Other times I am fiddling with a rubiks cube where it's a puzzle and I'm actively working to put it together and sometimes peel the stickers off and put them where I want. And then there are the times I'm making a ship in a bottle--sometimes even designing the ship before getting all the pieces together. Lots and lots of work. But anyway. For a weekend vid project for my brain to soak in?? This Yen vid has been great. I'm on VERSE 2 AND CHORUS 2!! The last blank spaces of my timeline. This actually turned out to be my most favorite section because it features Yen being a BAMF without her magic and resilient and angry and I love that about her. Let's jump in! verse 2 - 0:37 - 1:35

[Verse 2: Eve] This bitch, sick spit, clips toxic Oh shit, that's it Tired of my voice? Plug ya ears Outrageous by choice? Love the stares Knew my time would come, was prepared Comeback second to none, still she here What, whatever though, cats incredible Watch me jaw-drop, y'all stuck like vegetables Take my shine? That's my lifeline Sit back and watch me chart climb, bitch, now it's all mine I ain't givin' up or lettin' up, advice? Step it up Slow down, cause your mistakes is catchin' up Fan's a fan and you scramblin', I'm sittin' pretty Ain't nothing left but me standing and you ain't wit me Sob stories all you left wit cause it's over Some say I'm mad, naw, I'm just a little colder [Chorus 2: Truth Hurts] You know what this is, got the crowd like WHAT! Ain't a bitch alive that can take my WHAT! This time when I come, it's gone be like WHAT! It ain't hard to tell you just been done

My export cuts off the beginning a little but I loved coming in hard with the execution scene and Yen giving everyone the middle finger with that axe. I love Yen's face when she's rolling her eyes at Vilgefortz and annoyed-defiant with Istredd. But of course this has my favoritest lyric/clip with Cahir's face on "Oh shit" when he turns out to not die on the chopping block, ahahah. Hope other people enjoy this part as much as I do. It was really fun to play back and forth with the sewers and Yen and Rience, and managing to get Jaskier's ridiculous face on some key lyrics that made me incredibly happy. Like, honestly. I know I'm feeling good when my brain is doing the cat "brrrrrrpt!" when I hit playback on 30 seconds of my vid. The background music in this track has such great vibes and I love finding the shots of Yen being so physically present and protective. Having to find other ways of getting shit done without her magic. My other favorite part in this section is pairing Yen kicking the guy in the balls with the way she flexes her fingers when she's instinctively trying to do magic (which is from the scene when she was trying to help the small elven child l being separated from their family). I also hope at this point of the second chorus that viewers enjoy seeing what clips are falling on the "what" lyrics. FIRE IN THE FACE-- what. Defiant and fucking badass as hell. I love Yen so much. I also want to say that I love the lyric "Some say I'm mad, naw, I'm just a little colder" because my vidder brain IMMEDIATELY hears and sees, "Yen dumped all her fire magic at Sodden and she's now empty of all her chaos." That is season 2 in a nutshell. It just all comes together in my brain when I hear a song and I'm so deeply invested in a character. This section also ends with bringing a little more Voleth Meir into the mix here as the vid will start in verse 3 with more Ciri. But I'm very happy with how this has been coming together.

The timeline is FULL. I repeat the timeline is FULL! But it's not done! There's the finessing, nitpicky part that I still have to get through, which I'll elaborate on upon in my next post.

Part 5: transitions! Chorus 1 to verse 2 - refining the timing

[hugsforyuri]

Forgot to post this earlier mb

Chp 3

A/n

Meows gently. Sorry if this is a little late kittens… My grandmother took a stroke and almost died. It was really silly. My irl friends also left me soz yeah.  Stay alive kittens. Good christmas

Cw for panic attacks; I'll add a summary in the next chapter bc important shit happens in this one<3

Mischa climbed out of his PT cruiser. He ran his hands through his hair. He gently picked up his bag then grabbed his phone. He opened Instagram up and messaged Talia.

Mischa: Hello Talia. I am unsure if you're awake but I feel you must know that I love you. I have never cared about someone the same way I care about you. You are the light of my life. Thank you so much. Thank you for loving me. Every day as I wake up I long for the day I can be with you. So as I can hold you ever so dearly and never let you. My life's goal is to be with you. I love you.

He put his phone away and started to run to school. He noticed the time. He accidently ran into Constance. "Sorry." He said quickly then moved on. Dashing through the halls he almost missed Noel. Luckily for Mischa, Noel was wearing a bright cat jumper that is next to impossible to ignore. "YOOOOO NOEL!" He yelled at him. "Fuck me jesus christ. Hi." He said back. "Wanna walk with me?" He asked. Noel nodded. Mischa held his hand out for Noel to hold it. He looked down at Mischa's hand. He put his hand in his and walked to home room together. Holding hands.

Gonna skip to lunch

Mischa left his maths room to find Noel. He walked to the french room and saw him in the door. This teacher was notoriously strict and would not let kids break any rules. 0 rules could be broken in her class. Mischa took out his phone while he was waiting. He went to check his messages with Talia. She had left him on read. Two hours ago. Mischa felt worthless to her.

Mischa: Talia, I understand you might not want to talk to me right now but please be honest. Don't leave me on read and just say you don't wanna talk. I'm not mad at you. I'm really not. I understand it might've been an accident but still. It has upset me. I am so sorry. Like genuinely so sorry.

He questioned sending it or not. He read it over and over again yet there were next to zero errors he could find. He clicked the send button. His breathing picked up slightly. He rushed to the bathroom and bashed into a bathroom stall. He fell down to the floor. His jumper dragged up. His breathing got increasingly quicker. His vision had gotten a bit blurry and his mind was racing. All he wanted was for Talia not to hate him. No matter how many times she said he hadn't done anything or that she loved him, he would never fully believe it. His thoughts dashed around from Noel, to Talia, to everything. His eyes started to let out and he started to sob lightly. His breathing slowed slightly as he tried to focus on standing up. His legs shook as he pulled himself up. He unlocked the door and saw Noel waiting in the entrance to the bathroom. He ignored him and washed his face. Noel walked over and tapped his shoulder. "Mischa. Are you okay." It wasn't a question. He knew the answer. It was a no. He hugged him and sobbed into his shoulder. "Mischa. Did anything happen?" Mischa shook his head. "I just can't do this. I feel so worthless. I just can't…" His last words were overpowered with tears. He let out another sob. "Mischa. Take your time. I do not think you're worthless. Mischa bachinski I care about you and want you to be here. For Natilea, or whatever. She loves you Mischa." Mischa froze at the mention of Talia. "N-noel." He stuttered out. Noel's face changed. He was worried already, but this? A whole different story. "What. The. Fuck." Again Noel didn't say this as a question. "What the fuck did she do Mischa?" Mischa's mind went blank. "Nothing. She just left me on read hah." His voice was shaky. "Mischa, we're gonna skip the rest of this day and just chill out. I don't give a fuck what you say we're skipping." And with that mischa and Noel left the bathroom together, they climbed into Mischa's PT cruiser and drove off to the mall.

A/N 

Im so amazing. Loveyall. If u want fr Nischa writing of mine theres some on my AO3, the AO3 acc is hugs4yuri.