#After five: Balance of Evil

[dryams03]

▷ Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1

Prologue — Chapter 1 — Chapter 2

It is year 25 a.e (After the Expansion). Evil, now an adult, wakes up willing to face this day, a day of pursuit, a day of liberty. He looks at the mirror, tall, strong, handsome, he was a man, no, a creature of huge beauty. But along with his grown appearance also came an arrogant behavior. His expression was full of frustration, powerlessness, it feels like he was a totally different person, like if that young and happy boy had gone forever along with his pupils. Now his eyes were totally white, his body has lost the gates to his soul, no one could see through him ever again. 

Standing in front of the mirror this new man showed a big smile filled with sharp fangs like a shark. He was forcing himself to hide his weakness, disguising it with darkness and violence. Evil walked outside his house, wearing an elegant outfit, white shirt, black pants, tie, and long trench coat. He saw his surroundings filling his chest with cruelty as he breathed, he spread his large black wings out and pointed at the sky with his open hand. 

A dark and mysterious smoke came out his hand, this substance flew away as an embodiment of Evil's desires. The smoke seemed, somehow, alive, it was chasing every soul on that damned land. It looked like a snake moving through the air, turning the skinless souls in something else... something malicious. This new creatures, born from punishment and whim, were now our protagonist's legion, the Specters, the spirits of darkness. With this action, Evil had sentenced all those lives, now the specters, seduced by the dark, wanted to live, but unlike before, now death meant the end. 

This foolish doing cursed around 250 spirits representing a spit on the face of the Gods, the angel of black wings felt like he was beyond the Gods' will. A deep and dark feeling was being poured inside Evil's heart and suddenly his army appeared in front of him. The specters were like monsters, shadow creatures with large fangs and claws, some of them were standing on two feet and some behaved like animals. The angel wide opened his eyes ready to face his destiny. 

—Death! —yelled his father's name, filling his chest with courage and ego. A few seconds passed before the scary god appeared, once again coming out of shadows and causing a bit of fear on the angel's eyes. 

—Greetings, my son —said the huge god showing no emotion or surprise about the specters, in fact, he was dragging the blade of his scythe on the ground as an act of boredom

—It is time to talk the truth! 

—You didn't have to mess up those souls for that —answered with sarcasm and mocking his son as he kept playing with his scythe. 

—Tell me... Tell me the truth about my mother! —Evil was angry, he even lost his manic grin, his voice showed weakness dressed as rage. His father stuck his weapon into the ground like a flag and lied down calmly. 

—So that's what this is about —muttered before giving his son an answer. —Your mother was divinity like myself. She was the Goddess of harmony and peace —Suddenly, his voice, dark and cold as it was, turned a bit nostalgic  —She was beautiful as life, her hair was long as the universe itself, her eyes were the brightest stars I've ever seen. 

Those words were confusing for the son, however, he wouldn't let his weak feelings control him. So with the same attitude as before he asked. —What did you do to her? —That question caused the god to stand up and grab his weapon intimidatingly.

—She got what she deserved. Your mother was a fool, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time and for that I had to act.  —Evil was angrier than ever before, these words were giving him an awful mix of emotions, he was even moving his wings slowly in order to calm down. —I fooled and trapped her in a place with no way out, alone. I used her as I pleased before I... 

Every new word was increasing the hate within the angel, he was giving his father a despising gaze, a creepy silent filled the air for several seconds, until the god said a single word, making his son watch what happened the last day of her mother's life. 

—Remember

Suddenly, Evil found himself in the middle of space, there, he saw a woman's silhouette behind a curtain. She was giving birth to a sphere of light, while other four men were watching her. He looked around and identified what seemed to be a gigantic palace with five castles. When he turned and looked for the woman he saw his father stabbing her several times with his scythe. As the blood left her body, the angel was feeling the worst sensation of his life, he was trembling horrified by this scene, fear was binding him to the deepest pain inside his heart. He thought it couldn't be worse, until he saw her mother being beheaded by his father. 

When the illusion came to an end, Evil's mind came back to his body, he fell on his knees and threw up. Tears were coming out his empty eyes and rage ended up dominating him. —Kill him!! —screamed, giving his troops a clear order. 

The specters obeyed and ran towards the God, in response, the father created a force field repelling his enemies and leaving them unconscious. Evil, even angrier, yelled at Death and scratching the ground with his nails. From the right eye of the God emerged a red light and as he pointed at the sky with his weapon, it turned the same color as the light. Not only the sky changed, but everything else on that arid ground turned black and red. The angel stood up quickly, both surprised and terrified by this power. Drops of blood started to fall, however, not a single one touched Evil's body, it was like a nightmare, and among this chaos, the God began to float on the air.

—By my position and duty as master and lord, the virtue of being king, god and creator, within death is my life and I live for death. —recited as a chant. —I raise my voice and release my power!

—Who are you...? —asked Evil, dominated by fear and powerlessness. 

—I am the Primordial God of Death.

[deadsetobsessions]

Edit: thank you @tetranationaltortoise for pointing out that the Red Spot is on Jupiter instead of Saturn! Fixed it! You’re not nickpicking, you’re providing very appreciated constructive criticism (and a basic fact check I should have done lol) <3

Danny, as usual, hadn’t meant to become the local cryptid. Local being extremely relative, as his locality in this instance is… space.

He just wanted to have some relaxation time. He just wanted to do some homework, chill on Mars or something, and then call it a day.

This hero business was taxing and Danny took his breaks when he could. Take that, work-life balance! Just kidding, Danny had no work-life balance. His life is a mess and he's overworked.

What was it that Superman had said in that one interview?

“Evil never sleeps."

Apparently, that also meant Danny never slept either.

“Hrk!” Danny snorted awake, looking around wildly at the vast expanse of space to see what woke him.

….

Yeah, that’ll do it.

In front of him, merrily floating through space, is the battered remains of what used to be an asteroid and a mecha that’s a weird combination of Gotham’s vigilante hero, Batman, and Metropolis’ Golden Boy, Superman.

The vibrations of the collision had shaken Danny awake.

Danny got up, baffled as hell and half asleep still. He floated to the giant Bat insignia tumbling around, inching closer as he saw the- oh hell, that’s so cool, it’s a plane!- cockpit and the passed out hero inside of it. Danny clicked his tongue, the sound swallowed by the lack of air.

He shoved the plane closer to earth, passing it to a bewildered (and both beat up and stressed out) Superman, who did a double take at the glowing green boy chucking him the Toy-maker Batplane.

Danny had waved, blinked out of visibility, and had gone back to his nap.

After phasing inside the plane and nabbing a batarang from Batman’s pouch, that is. Danny will consider it payment for the clean up service he’d unwittingly signed himself up for.

And so went the first encounter.

——

The second time he met the so called Big Leagues, Danny had just come back from fighting Dan. He wanted a break, dammit, and if staring at Saturn’s gorgeous rings and gaseous formations helped him sleep better, then that’s what’s going to happen.

Then, a similarly green glowing Green Lantern “landed” to where he was floating curled up. Danny knew about Lanterns. Their council often tried to meddle in his court.

“Hello,” the Ring projected its Lantern’s words to Danny’s head. Danny tilted his head without looking at the Lantern. “I’m John Stewart. What are you doing out here, kid?”

Danny thought this guy had a nice, soothing voice. Powerful, as Latern tended to be, but infinitely kind.

Danny decided that this one wasn’t immediately on his shit list.

“Phantom.” He said, and the Lantern asked him to repeat it as the glow of his ring enveloped the halfa.

“Phantom. Are you lost, Phantom?”

“No, just dead.”

John Stewart paused. “…Dead?”

“I’m a ghost,” Danny raised his hands and phased it through the Lantern’s arm.

“Ah,” the man said, flustered. “Right. So… you’re just…”

“Hanging out.” As he talked to the Lantern, Danny had a rather amusing idea. He rotated himself- turned- towards Jupiter and pointed to the Red Spot. “That’s actually my grave.”

John Stewart paused. “I’m sorry…?”

“My grave. Don’t disturb it. It’s rude,” Danny lied through his sharp ghost teeth. “Your council disturbed my grave the last time they stopped by and it took ages to get it back right.”

The green Lantern shield enveloping Danny flickered as John Stewart went through the five stages of grief. To be fair, the council had last visited this solar system... a couple thousand years ago, so John was no doubt rapidly doing some mental math regarding Danny's age.

“The council disturbed your grave…?”

“Not that they knew it, those pretentious weirdos.” Danny pretended to be offended, just to see the struggle on John’s face as he debated defending the council or telling a dead child their grave didn’t matter. Because Stewart was a hero, he went with the latter.

“I see. I am sorry, on their behalf.”

“Eh, whatever. Just make sure they don’t do it again. So… what can that ring do?”

——

"Hi. Could you not litter in space, please?"

Wonder Woman whirled around, sword out and pointed at Danny.

"A... child? Who are you, child?"

"I'm not a child-! You know what, it doesn't even matter. See that?" Danny waved at the pieces of shattered meteor and smashed up alien tech floating outside of the watch tower. "Littering is not cool."

"How did you get in here?"

"I'm Phantom. This is kind of my neighborhood." Danny let his mouth run, sleep deprived and exhausted. "I'm dead, that's how I got in here. Could you not litter in my backyard, please?"

He had better things to do than cleaning after full grown adult heroes.

"Oh, you are the ghost child Lantern mentioned! I see! My apologies, the clean up will be starting in a bit." Wonder Woman slid her sword back into its sheath.

"Great. Nice meeting you. I'll stick around to make sure you young whipper snappers clean up properly."

With that, Danny sunk into the floor. After a moment's deliberation, he decided to take a nap in the floor vent.

——

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Danny jolted awake once more. Ancients, like mentor, like mentee. Robin stared at him, awkwardly wriggling through the floor vents.

"I'm taking a nap here," Danny grumbled. "What are you doing in the vents?"

"Me? What are you doing in the vents? I'm allowed in here!"

"Wonder Woman knows I'm here," Danny replied. She knows... probably? "I'm Phantom."

"Robin."

"So... what are you doing?"

"Knowledge is power," Robin intoned, clearly imitating the Bat.

Danny stared.

"... You're stalking the JL?"

"Information gathering!"

"Stalking," Danny concluded, ignoring Robin's grumble. "Yeah, okay. If you need help, let me know, I guess."

"I don't need help." Robin paused, tilting his head to the side like a particularly curious bird. "Unless you're up for some pranks? Green Lantern's been getting on my nerves lately."

Danny frowned at him. "I like John Stewart."

"You've met- no, not him, the other one."

"Oh. What do I get out of it?"

Robin reached into his belt pouch and pulled out... a bag of marshmallows? How the hell did that-? Ah, right, hammerspace.

"Oh, wait, can you eat this?"

"I'm dead, not tasteless. I love marshmallows, hand it over. I'll help out."

"Deal."

——

"I swear to god, Spooky, there's something in the walls. It's even creepier than you!"

Batman grunted. He'd stop Robin if he went too far and it started affecting Lantern's abilities on the field, but as far as the Dark Knight was concerned, the Green Lantern had it coming. Robins were vindictive on a good day. If Hal hadn't learned that from Dick, then Jason's retaliation was well deserved.

"Oh, maybe it's the ghost!" Hal said, looking around with his ring glowing.

"I thought John said he was a godling?" Diana polished her sword as she looked on in amusement.

"The boy." Batman grunted. "Not human, his pointed ears and green skin is proof of that. Did J'onn say anything?"

"Not yet."

"Whatever he is, he saved Batman. He's welcome in the Tower," Superman tilted back as his hearing picked up on Robin's and Phantom's snickering.

[stealingyourbones]

“So… let me get this straight,” Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Five months ago, you went to the library right after school—”

“Yeah.”

“And made friends with a kid your age—“

“That’s right.”

“Started dating him after a small while—“

“Yep,” Duke said absentmindedly, eyes focused on his phone rather than his pseudo-foster father. “Look man, I don’t know what you’re not getting.”

Pale blue eyes pin him down, not necessarily angry, but far from pleased. “How on earth did an eldritch god of balance, the king to another realm, claim you as his fiancé?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Danny said it wasn’t on purpose—but for some reason us going out for boba is considered courting by ghost law.”

Danny is far more exasperated and annoyed, Duke is just going with the flow and accepts this far too easy, 7 evil ex's style.

[sitp-recs]

hi liv!!! what are your favorite underrated 8th year fics? any hidden gems you'd recommend?

Hi anon, always! I was gonna start off by saying that I haven’t read 8th year much, but this list is evidence to the contrary so maybe I should stop saying that 😂 here are some recs for you, I’ll also highlight two personal favourites: Matched Set by astolat and Like Lightning at Your Fingertips by potterwatch, while not exactly underrated I don’t see them recced often enough. Enjoy!!!

Snug by @moonflower-rose (E, 6k)

Potter can't keep his hands off himself. Draco can't look away.

The Pensieve Project by curiouslyfic (T, 7k)

Of the 116 Hogwarts students who took part in the final battle, only five are officially invited to the Ministry's first annual memorial. For everyone else, there's the Pensieve Project.

Champion by @shealwaysreads (T, 7k)

Harry thought his Eighth Year would be simple and easy. And it sort of is, though not in the ways he expected.

What Country, Friends, Is This? by khalulu (M, 8k)

When Harry and Draco are paired up for a nebulous “capstone project” in 8th year, Draco suggests they use it as an opportunity to take a free Grand Tour of Europe. Harry isn’t interested in being grand, and they soon veer off the beaten path.

Good Company by Greenflares (T, 8k)

With Hermione and Ron always together, Harry's return to Hogwarts to complete his education isn't exactly fun. Somehow, it's his unlikely friendship with Malfoy that keeps him sane.

swallow your words by icarusinflight (E, 9k)

The truth is, not many things are known about the magic that is behind soulmarks. They'll turn up when they want and not before.

Heliomancy by Leela (E, 10k)

A teasing mirror that came from Grimmauld Place and the emphasis on inter-house relations during his eighth year at Hogwarts change everything for Harry.

warmest part of the winter by warmfoothills (T, 11k)

It’s not even a balcony, it’s just a window with a bit of a ledge, and Draco’s read Shakespeare anyway, he knows how this one ends.

Said and Unsaid (or, The Value of Knowing When to Stop Talking) by bryoneybrynn (T, 15k)

When the Interrogator asked if he had anything to say on his own behalf, Draco shook his head, his lips pressed tight in a thin line. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t sound like an excuse.

Find The Balance by lauren3210, Obliviate_Amores (M, 15k)

After Harry gives Draco his wand and goes back to using his own, they both start having trouble making them work. Finding out why is a lot simpler than fixing the problem.

Equally Cursed and Blessed by @moonflower-rose (E, 18k)

Harry's back at Hogwarts to attempt his final year, again. This time he's sure there'll be no shenanigans. Well. Maybe there'll be a few.

Edificabo by @doubleappled (E, 18k)

Numb and exhausted after the war, Harry returns to the only real home he’s ever known. Hogwarts needs help, too.

Silver Linings by @sorrybutblog (M, 21k)

Or: Harry's gone back for eighth year at Hogwarts and nothing is quite the same, save his inability to leave Draco alone. But then he finds that Draco isn't what he expected either, as they spend the month of December stuck in each other's orbit.

Colloquy by @dracoladon, @lazywonderlvnd (E, 30k)

Harry's not gay, Malfoy just smells good.

On Our Way by evils (E, 30k)

Draco is trying to spend the summer keeping his head down, but a repair project and a certain snowy owl have other plans for him.

All Things Go by @sorrybutblog (E, 32k)

Draco’s back at Hogwarts by court order. Harry’s back for no particular reason at all. Some things change, some stay the same. Neither expects to spend eighth-year living in close quarters, playing rugby (poorly), staying up late, sneaking around, and finally figuring it all out.

Eager for the Sky by @oknowkiss (M, 35k)

It was announced, just as the Triwizard Tournament had been, at the start of term feast. A year-long, international Quidditch varsity match — the inaugural Wizarding Academy Cup.

Inside Your Mind by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 36k)

Goyle's taken it upon himself to act as Malfoy's personal, one-man guard and Harry can't help but feel like it's only making the bullying worse.

Seeker, Chaser, Keeper by VivacissimoVoce (M, 59k)

Rumor has it that a wealthy investor is starting up a brand new professional Quidditch team and he’s looking for players. Harry and Draco both want to make the team, but there can be only one Seeker. Will competing for the position bring them closer or drive them further apart?

Inertia by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 83k)

It’s three months after the war. Harry has already mucked up all his plans. Draco is no longer the prince of Slytherin house. And they sure as hell didn’t both mean to go back to Hogwarts at the same time. Cue snarking, long conversations…and unexpected snogging.

Reparo by amalin (E, 85k)

Voldemort's final defeat does not mean Harry Potter's troubles are over; far from it. In the aftermath of war, he returns to a Hogwarts that is fractured and divided, but this is no break that can be fixed with a spell. New owls, fading scars, surprising alliances—and along the way, the hardest task of all, to live with it.

Bonus: Harry/Draco/Theo 😌

just call this what it is by queens_crown (M, 27k)

Upon returning to Hogwarts after the war, Harry can't sleep. He's not the only one.

[nomie-11]

Like Flying

masterlist!

synopsis: when your partner suddenly drops out with an injury, the best replacement is a pink haired girl, and surprise, you're gay!

pairings: teen!figure skater!vi x figure skater!reader

Time to Nationals: 5 months, 0 weeks, 0 days

The grin on your coach's face was downright evil. She was clearly enjoying your suffering as your panicked eyes darted between her and the girl with bright pink hair next to her. 

“As I was saying,” Mel continued, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “This is Vi, she’s your partner for the time being.” 

Your jaw dropped, furiously shaking your head. 

“No. No way!” You fervently denied. “Does she even know how to do a lift? What happened to Jayce! Nationals is in five months, that’s not nearly enough time to get used to a new partner!”

Coach Mel just grinned a little wider. “Jayce tore his rotator cuff and is out for the rest of the season. Vi is your best bet at hitting nationals with a bang, and she’s looking to switch from solo free skate to duos, so this will be beneficial for the both of you.”

You opened your mouth to argue—Vi looked like she belonged in a punk rock band, not on the ice. And she hasn’t skated duos yet? She wasn’t even in skating clothes, for god’s sake. She was wearing ripped jeans and cargo boots!

“Ah!” Mel interrupted before you can even get a word out. “Save your complaints for someone who wants to listen to them. Vi knows how to do the tricks you need her to know. Stretch and get on the ice.” 

With a suppressed groan and the hardest urge you’ve ever had to roll your eyes, you just nodded and muttered a quick “yes, ma’am,” before slipping off your skate guards and stepping onto the rink. 

You tugged at the sleeves of your practice jacket, trying to channel your irritation into something other than glaring at the infuriatingly calm figure strolling toward the rink. Vi, as it turned out, wasn’t a total beginning, but her whole vibe screamed chaos in a way that didn’t mesh with the precision and discipline you lived for in skating. 

Your coach clapped her hands sharply, breaking you from your thoughts. “Alright, warm up together. Start with some side-by-side moves, then work on synchronization.” 

Vi smirked as she stepped onto the ice, her movements fluid and confident, her combat boots and jeans swapped for training clothes and a pair of beat up skates. “Don’t worry, Princess,” she drawled, her tone teasing. “I promise not to drop you.” 

You bristled, your cheeks heating. “Let’s see if you can even keep up.” 

—---------------------------------

Time to Nationals: 4 months, 3 weeks, 4 days. 

The first week was an exercise in frustration and patience. Vi was strong—absurdly so—but her timing was off, and her edges weren’t as clean as yours. During a particularly rough attempt at a pairs lift, she lost her balance and stumbled, sending you tumbling into her arms. 

“See?” she quipped, catching you and holding you upright with ease. “Didn’t drop you.”

You shoved her away, your face burning. “Try harder next time.” 

—------------------------------

Time to Nationals: 4 months, 1 week, 2 days

It wasn’t all bad, though. By the third week of working together, you had gotten used to each other’s patterns. Vi’s lifts had become sharper, her footwork more fluid next to yours, and you became more trusting. You hadn’t yet attempted what had once been your and Jayce’s signature move—a death spiral—but she was tossing you up into the air easier and easier with every practice. 

“You’re not bad at this,” you admitted grudgingly after practice, laying back on the ice, both of you completely spent and sweaty after hours of relentless conditioning as per Mel’s orders. 

Vi grinned, her chest heaving beside you on the ice. “Was that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it.” 

—----------------------------------

Time to Nationals: 3 months, 2 weeks, 3 days

As the time passed, you couldn’t deny the chemistry you two shared on the ice. Twist lifts became effortless, your bodies moving more in sync than you and Jayce ever had, as if you’d been partners for years. The adrenaline from landing a perfect throw jump or pair lift had you grinning uncontrollably, and Vi’s smile was just as infectious. 

After one particularly rough session, the two of you were stretching in the locker room, the soft lights casting a warm glow over your features as you pressed yourself further onto the mat by your locker. Tilting your head upwards, you matched her gaze, and Vi reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair from your bun behind your ear. 

“You’ve got talent, Princess,” she said softly, smiling up from her impressive split. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” 

Your heart fluttered, and you shoved the feeling down with practiced ease. “Don’t get all sappy on me now.” 

—---------------------------------

Time to Nationals: 2 months, 1 week, 6 days

The problem wasn’t just that Vi was good at skating—no, that wasn’t a problem at all. It was the way she made you laugh when you were frustrated, the way she caught you effortlessly during lifts, the way her hand lingered on your waist a fraction too long. But every time your thoughts strayed into dangerous territories, you stomped them down, reminding yourself that you didn’t like her that way. 

It was during an off-ice practice that it all came crashing down. You and Vi were practicing a star lift, a trick you had never managed to nail on the ice, with her hands firmly planted on your waist, until she finally managed to let go, holding her arm out in a position that finally had Mel happy. 

She held you up there for one second, then another, then another, until you had been up in the air for a full minute, every muscle in your entire body tense and poised, until you rolled down into the dismount, firmly held in her arms. 

When she set you down, she grinned. “Told you I wouldn’t drop you.” 

You stared at her, heartbeat loud in your ears. “I—I never doubted you,” you stammered, your denial crumbling. 

Her faze softened, and for the first time, you saw something in her powder blue eyes that made your chest ache. “Good,” she murmured, her voice low. “Because I’ve got you. One the ice and off.” 

And that was when the realization hit you like a ton of bricks: you were falling for her. No, scratch that—you had fallen. You had fallen for a girl. 

—-----------------------------------

Time to Nationals: 1 month, 3 weeks, 1 day

It had started with little things. You’d forgotten the sequence of a spin, mistimed a jump that hadn’t been a problem in months, or pulled out a death spiral too early, sending you both crumbling to the ground. Mel’s sharp words and kind eyes would snap you out of your daze, and you’d brush it off as exhaustion. But the truth was gnawing at you, unrelenting: you couldn’t stop thinking about Vi. 

Her smile, the way she called you “Princess” with that infuriating smirk, the way she steadied you during the lifts like you weighed nothing. It was distracting. Worse, it was dangerous. 

You weren’t gay. You couldn’t be. That wasn’t part of the plan. You’d always pictured yourself skating at nationals, nailing every jump and spin with perfection, earning scholarships, and making your parents proud. Falling for your punk-rock skating partner?

Absolutely not on the agenda. 

—-----------------------------------

Time to Nationals: 1 month, 2 weeks, 2 days

It was during a waist lift—a move you’d done a hundred times before. Vi had lifted you easily, her hands firm on your waist as you extended your arms and prepared for the dismount. But your focus slipped—the way she was holding you, the way she was touching you—instead of planting your landing, you panicked, your legs tangling underneath you awkwardly. 

Vi tried to catch you, but the momentum was too much. You hit the ice hard, the breath knocked out of your lungs as you skidded across the smooth surface of the rink until you hit the barriers with a soft thud. 

“Whoa, whoa—hey!” Vi’s voice was panicked as she crouched beside you. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head? Talk to me.” 

Your chest heaved as tears pricked your eyes. It wasn’t just the fall—it was everything. The pressure, the confusion, the unbreakable weight of feelings you wouldn’t dare admit to yourself. 

“I—” Your words got caught in your chest as she lifted you to a sitting position, her grip underneath your shoulders gentle and strong. “I’m fine,” you choked out, but the tears spilled anyway. You pressed your hands to your face, your shoulders shaking as everything inside you came crashing down. 

And Vi didn’t say a single word. She just sat next to you on the cold hard ice as you sobbed until your ice time was up, and the hockey kids came in. 

—--------------------------

Time to Nationals: 1 month, 2 weeks, 1 day

You didn’t go into the rink the next day. You couldn’t. The thought of seeing Vi—of facing everything you were feeling—was too much. So you sat outside the rink instead, leaning against the cold concrete wall with your knees hugged to your chest. 

You told yourself that you were just taking a break, that you’d go inside in a minute. But hours passed, and you stayed rooted to the spot, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. 

What if everyone found out? What would your parents say? What would Vi say? 

You heard footsteps before you saw her. Vi rounded the corner, her skate bag slung over one shoulder as her combat boots hit the pavement, already back in her casual clothes after practice. 

“You weren’t at practice,” she said simply, sitting down beside you. 

You didn’t respond, staring at the ground instead. 

She waited a beat before continuing. “You scared me yesterday, you know.” 

“I’m fine,” you muttered, but your voice cracked. 

“No, you're not.” Her tone was soft, but firm. “Talk to me.” 

You shook your head, the tears threatening to spill again. “I can’t.” 

“Why not?”

“Because you wou;dn’t understand!” The words burst out of you before you could stop them, your voice breaking. 

Vi was quiet for a moment. Then, she reached out, her fingers brushing against yours. “Try me.”

You looked at her then, really looked at her, and the weight of everything you’d been holding back threatened to crush you. “I—I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whispered. “I can’t think straight anymore. And you—you make it worse.” 

Vi blunked, her expression unreadable. “Worse how?” 

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling. “You make me feel things I’m not supposed to feel. I can’t—I’m not—”

“Gay?” She finished gently. 

You flinched, the words hitting you like a slap. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice small. “I’ve never felt like this before. And I don’t know what to do.” 

Vi exhaled slowly, her gaze trained on the pavement in front of the two of you. “First of all, there’s nothing wrong with you. Second… it’s okay to feel scared. I was, too, at first.”

You stared at her, your heart pounding. “You…?” 

She nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. It’s obvious, right? Took me a while to figure it out. But you don’t have to figure everything out right now. And you definitely don’t have to do it alone.” 

You didn’t say anything in return, but the weight in your chest eased just a little, her words wrapping around you like a lifeline. Maybe, it would be okay. 

—-------------------

Time to Nationals: 1 month, 1 week, 4 days

One chilly afternoon, Vi met you at the rink with an unusual entourage. Trailing behind her were two kids—a tiny girl with bright blue hair clutching a stuffed bunny, and a boy with white hair who tightly clutched Vi’s hand. 

“What’s this?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as Vi grinned at you. 

“Introducing my little sister, Powder, and her best friend, Ekko,” Vi said proudly, ruffling Powder’s hair. “They’ve been bugging me to let them skate for ages. Thought you might want to help me teach them. You know, something fun for a change.” 

Powder looked up at you with wide, hopeful blue eyes. “Vi says you’re the best skater ever. Can you show me how to twirl like a princess?” 

Your heart melted a little despite yourself. She was so cute. “Of course,” you said softly. 

What followed was a chaotic but heartwarming afternoon. Powder clung to your arms for dear life, while Ekko, full of bravado, tried to show off and immediately fell on his butt. Vi laughed so hard she almost toppled over herself, and even you couldn’t stop smiling as you guided Powder through her first shaky glide across the ice. 

By the end of the session, Powder declared you her “favorite princess,” and Ekko demanded a rematch against Vi on who could skate fastest. Vi leaned against the boards, watching with a soft smile. “Told you they’d grow on you.” 

“They’re not so bad,” you admitted, catching her eye. “Thanks for this.” 

“Anytime, Princes,” she said, her voice warm in a way that made your heart stutter. 

—---------------------------

Time to Nationals: 0 months, 3 weeks, 5 days

“Y/n,” one of your friends waved you over to the window of your physics classroom. “Who is she?” Your friend pointed down to Vi at the gate to your high school, her pink hair catching the late afternoon sunlight. 

“A friend.” You replied, a tad too rushed as you grabbed your papers from the desk and started to shove them into your backpack. “I’ve gotta get to practice, see you later?” 

Your friend nodded, not really making a motion to move from the windows. 

“Thank you Mr. Heimerdinger! I’ve got to run to my locker and head to the rink.” You called as you darted out of the door and down the hall to grab your skate bag. In less than a minute, your skate bag was slung over your right shoulder book bag over the left as you darted down the hallways down to the front gate. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your heart doing an involuntary little flip. 

“Thought I’d walk you to the rink,” she said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. 

You blinked. “You know I can get there on my own, right?’ 

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” she shot back, grabbing your school bag and slipping onto her own free shoulder. 

It became a routine after that. Every day, Vi would meet you after school, her presence an anchor that steadied you when your thoughts threatened to spiral again. She’d walk you to practice carrying your bag, and then, after you were both sweaty and exhausted, she’d walk you home, filling the air with her easy laughter and stories about Powder’s latest antics. 

One evening, as you stood on your porch, she paused before leaving. “Hey,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. “You’re doing better.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and managed a small smile, a bit of blush rising up to your cheeks. “Yeah, I guess I am. Thanks, Vi.” 

Her grin returned, but softer this time. “Anytime, Princess.”

—--------------------------

Time to Nationals: 0 months, 0 week, 6 days

It was seven days before nationals, and Mel had made it very clear you were to stick to your strict diet. No sugar, no junk, no exceptions.

“Let’s make this as easy on Vi as possible, okay?” She had said, and you responded with an eager ‘yes’ because you were an idiot in love. No sweets, no pastries, and absolutely no cupcakes. 

So naturally, Vi showed up at the rink with a cupcake. 

“Vi!” You hissed as she held it out to you, the scent of vanilla and frosting wafting through the air. “Are you trying to get me in trouble?” 

She smirked. “Relax. It’s just one cupcake. Besides, I figured you could use a little pick-me-up.” 

You hesitated, torn between guilt and the overwhelming urge to devour it. “I’m not supposed to—”

“Live a little,” she interrupted, her smirk softening into something gentler. “You’ve been working your ass off. You deserve this. I can handle you plus an extra cupcake.” 

With a sigh, you took the cupcake, breaking off a small piece and popping it into your mouth. It was perfect—sweet and comforting in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. 

“See?” Vi said, her eyes sparkling. “Was that so bad?” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. “You’re impossible.” 

“You’re stuck with me anyways,” she quipped, leaning against the boards as she watched you eat. 

As you finished the last bite, you caught her gaze, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you. “Thank you, Vi,” you said softly, meaning more than just the cupcake. 

“Always,” she replied, her voice low, and the warmth in her eyes made your chest ache in a way that was starting to feel almost familiar. 

—------------------------

Time to Nationals: 0 months, 0 weeks, 0 days

The crowd was still roaring, the lights unbearably bright as Vi lifted you up onto the top step of the podium and stepped up after you. Gold medals hung heavy around your necks, the ribbons digging into your sweat-damp skin, and bouquets of flowers rested in your trembling hands. 

You’d done it. 

Months of blood, sweat, and tears—of doubts and fears and broken-down days—had all led to this. Your free skate had been perfect, every lift effortless, every step breathtaking. The arena had held its breath as Vi spun you through the final move—a death spiral, her hands firm in yours, your head inches from the ice. And when the music ended, you both stood there, panting, clutching each other as the audience erupted into applause. 

Now, standing here under the harsh spotlight, you were supposed to be smiling. But all you could do was stare at Vi. Her pink hair was matted with sweat, her face flushed from exertion, but her eyes—those steady, warm eyes—were locked on yours. 

For a moment, it was just the two of you. The screaming crowd faded, the cameras didn’t exist, and the world slowed. 

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but Vi was already moving. 

She cupped your face with her free hand, her palms cool against your overheated skin, and then she kissed you. 

It wasn’t rushed or hesitant. It was firm, certain—like she’d been waiting for this moment for forever. Her lips were soft against yours, and the weight of months of confusion and denial melted away in an instant. 

The crowd went silent for a split second before erupting into even louder cheers. Somewhere in the chaos, you heard gasps, whistles, and someone—probably Powder—yelling, “That’s my sister!” 

When Vi finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, and she was grinning so wide it was infectious. 

“You okay, Princess?” she whispered, her breath brushing against your lips. 

You let out a breathless laugh, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I’m fantastic.” 

Around you, confetti rained down, flashed from cameras sparkled, and the world cheered for the two of you. But none of it mattered. 

Because here, on the top step of the podium, gold medal heavy on your chest and Vi’s hand in yours, you finally let yourself feel it—no fear, no hesitation, just her. 

And it felt like flying. 

this totally isnt based off of my own experience

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[aventurineswife]

Requesting Reader having trouble sleeping (nothing angsty, they’re just more of a night owl) so they’re just like “welp, might as well be gaming” and whoever finds them in their room catches them playing something like Animal Crossing, Resident Evil, or Nier: Automata.

…Now that I’ve typed this, I think Silver Wolf would be perfect. Just late night gaming buddies. 😆

“The night is still young, but we're not sleeping”

Tags: Silver Wolf x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Stelle x Reader, Gaming, Late-Night Vibes, Casual Bonding, Comfort, Friendship, Lighthearted.

It’s already well past midnight, the usual quiet hum of the ship broken only by the soft clicking of buttons in your room. You lean back against the pillow, eyes glued to the screen, the soft glow illuminating your face in the otherwise dark space. Your controller moves with expert precision in a game of Resident Evil, the latest challenge being to outsmart hordes of zombies.

You could barely get comfortable in bed, so why not indulge in a bit of gaming?

Suddenly, the door creaks open, and a shadow stands in the doorway. You glance up and meet the cool, calculating eyes of none other than Silver Wolf, arms crossed and eyebrow raised as she observes your midnight hobby.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” you ask, not missing a beat.

Silver Wolf leans against the doorframe, the usual smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re up late,” she says, her voice almost teasing. “I didn’t take you for a gamer.”

You shrug, pausing your game with a dramatic sigh. “You know, sometimes it’s just one of those nights. Can’t really sleep, so might as well be doing something fun.” You flick your controller again, and Silver Wolf’s gaze moves to the screen.

“Huh. Resident Evil, huh? You’re really just going to take on zombies in the dead of night?” She smirks again, clearly amused. “Let me guess, you’re the type who keeps a cheat code handy?”

Silver Wolf steps into the room, drawing closer. “Mind if I join in? I can help you break through the tricky parts.” Her voice is playful, almost challenging. You gesture to the space next to you on the bed, and she sits, pulling her legs up with her usual casual grace. Before long, you’re both working your way through the game together, Silver Wolf seamlessly taking over the controller with an expert touch.

You grin and wink. “Of course. Gotta keep it interesting.”

"Guess I’m not the only one who loves a good challenge," you remark, half amused and half impressed.

She tilts her head and gives you a sidelong glance. “The universe’s a game, after all. Every level’s just another thing to conquer.”

It’s the middle of the night, but you’re wide awake, your thoughts spinning in circles. Unable to fall asleep, you give in to the temptation to fire up the console. You settle in with a game of Animal Crossing, the peaceful music and calming tasks offering a distraction from your wandering mind.

Not even five minutes into the game, you hear soft footsteps approaching your room. Sunday, with his usual composed demeanor, appears at the door, his eyes soft and almost too perceptive.

“Ah, I see you're still awake,” he says, voice gentle, as if he already knows the answer.

You glance up with a half-smile, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, sleep just isn’t happening for me right now. So, I’m playing Animal Crossing. You know, trying to escape reality.”

Sunday takes a step into the room, his wings fluttering slightly in the confined space. “I see. The quiet, peaceful life... a comforting choice, I suppose.”

“Yeah, exactly. Just... planting some flowers, fishing, and, you know, living the island life,” you reply with a playful shrug, turning the controller over to him. “Wanna join? I could use some help decorating my island.”

He smiles softly, sitting down next to you, his long fingers lightly brushing over the controller. “I’ve always found solace in simpler things. Perhaps I could add a few items that reflect... balance and peace?”

You can’t help but smile at his offer, his tone inviting yet carrying a sense of profound calm. The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, designing your island as Sunday occasionally offers thoughtful commentary on your choices.

“I suppose sometimes, escaping into a world like this isn’t such a bad thing after all,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with a note of introspection. “Though it’s also important to return to reality when the time comes.”

Stelle’s soft footsteps creaked across the floor as she entered your room, having heard a faint hum of your game from down the hall. The door was slightly ajar, and she peeked inside, only to find you engrossed in Nier: Automata, your focused eyes on the screen as you slashed through enemies.

She leaned casually against the doorframe, arms folded. “Yo, you up this late?” Her tone was cool, but there was a playful undertone to it.

You glanced up, surprised by her sudden appearance. “Yeah, you know how it is. Can’t sleep. Figured I’d get some gaming in instead. You ever play this one? Nier is wild.”

Stelle raised an eyebrow, stepping into the room with that signature coolness of hers. “Nah, never really got into it. But, I respect the grind.” She glanced at the screen as a new wave of enemies approached. “You’re pretty good at this.”

You shrug, tossing her the controller with a grin. “You think so? You should give it a go, though I gotta warn you, it’s not for the faint of heart. It’s intense.”

Stelle smirked and took the controller, her fingers effortlessly gliding over the buttons. “It’s whatever. As long as I don’t have to fight any of those weird robots with human heads. That stuff is freaky.”

You laugh at her response, completely at ease with her presence. “Yeah, that part’s... definitely out there. But hey, what else would you expect from a game like this?”

As she played, her usual stoic expression softened into one of amusement. “Okay, I kinda see the appeal now. It’s not just about the battles... it’s about the whole vibe. Like, the way the world feels. Kinda deep, y’know?”

“Exactly!” You reply, your excitement matching hers. “It’s all about questioning what it means to exist. Kind of hits you right here,” you say, pointing to your chest.

Stelle smirks, handing you back the controller after a few moments. “You’re deep, I’ll give you that. Maybe I’ll stick around for a bit. Just don’t expect me to lose to you.”

With a shared look, you both fall into the rhythm of the game, tackling it together in the quiet hours of the night.

[apiswitchcraft]

the egyptian gods

MA'AT: the essence of harmony and balance

in the beginning, well, there were a lot of different beginnings,

AMUN/AMUN-RA: god of the sun and air, supreme king of the gods in some periods. some stories say that he created himself and then everything else in the universe

ATUM: sometimes considered another name for Ra, but when separated he represents the evening sun. he was the first of the Ennead to emerge from Nu, and was the supreme ruler of the gods, and creator of the universe and human beings

RA/RE: when separated from Atum, he represents the midday sun, but other stories say that his aspect changes as he advances his sun barge across the sky. also considered the supreme ruler and creator of the universe. later merged with Amun as he rose in popularity

PTAH: another creator of the universe, Ptah was lord of truth, and the patron god of sculptors and craftsmen (since he was considered to have sculpted the earth). he created the first mound of earth from Nu by imagining it in his heart and breathed life into things with his voice

KHNUM: said to have created everything on his potter's wheel. in a different story he created humans on his potter's wheel then raised them up to the sun so that Ra could breathe life into them

NEITH: a war and funerary goddess, she created all things from her innards. she invented birth, therefore considered the "mother goddess" and closely associated with life and living things

MUT: emerged from Nu and gave birth to the world on her own, or in other stories was the wife of Amun. she was a goddess of protection, guarding humans in life, and against demons in death

MEHET-WERET: celestial cow goddess that emerged from Nu and gave birth to Ra at the beginning of time. goddess of water, creation, and rebirth

then under Atum/Ra creation stories, there were the first gods, called the Ennead,

SHU: the primordial god of air, he was born from Atum/Ra with his sister Tefnut to create the world. it's said that after bein gone for so long, Atum/Ra sent the eye of Ra to search for them, and his tears of happiness at having them returned became humans

TEFNUT: the sister and wife of Shu, she was the primordial god of moisture and rainfall

NUT: child of Shu and Tefnut, she represented the sky, but her relationship with her brother Geb disturbed Atum/Ra so he pushed her high above Geb, decreeing that she could not give birth on any day of the year. however, Thoth then gambled with Iah (or Khonsu) winning five days of moonlight he transformed into days. On those five days, her five children were born

GEB: god of the earth and growing things

OSIRIS: child of Nut and Geb, he was lord and god of the underworld and afterlife. he was said to be the first god to die, after being killed by his brother Set, wherein Isis then resurrected him and they bore Horus.

ISIS: child of Nut and Geb, she was the goddess of the moon, healing, fertility, and magic

NEPHTHYS: child of Nut and Geb, she is the twin sister of Isis and wife of Set. she is considered a goddess of funeral rites, darkness (not in an evil sense), and protector of women.

SET/SETH: child of Nut and Geb god of war, chaos, and storms. although he was the first murderer, he was considered a necessary balance to the good of Osiris. he killed Osiris to usurp his throne, only to later be usurped by Horus.

However, sometimes Set was replaced with Horus in the Ennead,

HORUS: technically there were two Horuses, Horus the Elder, who was a child of Nut and Geb, and Horus the younger, who was the better known Horus. however, they ended up merging into one deity, a god of the sun, sky, and kingship

under the Amun (and sometimes Ptah) creation myth(s) there was the group called the Ogdoad, including Amun and

AMUNET: the female counterpart of Amun, together they represented forces unseen, including the wind and air

KEK: the god of the hours before dawn, he guided the sun barge of Ra from the underworld to earth

KAUKET: the female aspect of Kek, she represented the hours after sunset, and guided the sun barge of Ra into the underworld. Together these gods represent darkness (but not in an evil way)

HEH AND HAUHET: often not separated in any meaningful way, these two were the gods of infinity, eternity, and time

NUN AND NAUNET: personification of the primordial waters, from which everything was created. Naunet is only ever referenced when it comes to the Ogdoad

However, when Amun became revered as a god of creation, him and Amunet were sometimes replaced by

NIA AND NIAT: gods of the void

so then the rest of the gods,

THOTH: advisor of Atum/Ra, he was the god of wisdom, writing, and truth, and was associated with the moon. sometimes he is the child of Atum/Ra, other times he is the son of Horus. he gave humanity the gift of language and marked the passage of time

SESHAT: consort of Thoth, she was the goddess of writing, books, and measurements

ANUBIS: son of Nephthys and Osiris, he was the god of the dead and associated with embalming. he leads the souls of the dead to the Hall of Truth and weighs their heart to determine if they were good or evil

KABECHET/QEBEHT: daughter of Anubis and a funerary deity. she provides cool, pure water to the souls awaiting judgement in the Hall of Truth

BASTET: daughter of Ra, although her image has tempered over time, Bastet was often considered a defender of pharaohs and the hearth. goddess of cats, women, and fertility

SEKHMET: sister of Bastet, she was goddess of destruction, justice, and desert winds. after Ra became tired of the sins of humanity, he sent Sekhmet to destroy them. she ravaged the land until the other gods implored Ra to stop her, where he took beer dyed red (to emulate blood) and left it at Dendera. when she drank it, she fell asleep and woke as the benevolent goddess Hathor

MAAHES: solar god and protector of the innocent, sometimes the son of Bastet, sometimes Sekhmet

HATHOR: goddess of joy, celebration, love, women, drunkenness, and sometimes animals. in some stories she is the wife of Horus the elder, in some Horus the younger, and in some Ra

MA'AT: embodiment of the principle of ma'at, she was the goddess of truth, justice, and harmony

KHONSU: the son of Amun and Mut, god of the moon and healing

MONTU: a god of war and the vitality of pharaohs, he was later replaced by Khonsu as a child of Amun and Mut

TENENIT: goddess of beer and brewing, consort of Montu

HEKA: patron god of magic and medicine, but was also said to be present at the creation of the universe

HU: god of the spoken word, personification of the first word Atum/Ra ever spoke. represented the tongue

SIA: personification of perception and thoughtfulness who represented the heart

ANAT: goddess of fertility, sexuality, love, and war. sometimes she is a virgin goddess, others she is sensuous and erotic

APEP/APOPHIS: the celestial serpent that would assault the sun barge of Ra every night as it travels through the underworld

BA-PEF: god of terror

BES/BISU/AHA: god of childbirth, fertility, sexuality, humor, and war. he protected women and children, fended off evil, and fought for divine justice

TAWERET/TAURET: considered a consort of Set, goddess of childbirth and fertility. guarded children and invoked to help with pregnancy and birth

HRAF-HAF: the ferryman of the dead, he would carry good souls across the Lily Lake to the shores of paradise in the Field of Reeds

AMENET: consort of the divine ferryman, she welcomed souls of the dead to afterlife with food and drink

FETKET: cupbearer of Ra, patron of bartenders

MAFDET: goddess of justice, protected people from venomous bites, later replaced by Serket

SERKET: goddess of protection and funerals, protected people against venom

HEDET: goddess of scorpions and protector against their venom

IHY: son of Hathor and Horus the elder, he was the god of music and joy

IMHOTEP: the deified vizier of the king Djoser, god of wisdom and medicine

MESKHENIT: goddess of childbirth, created a person's ka (life force) and breathed it into them, creating their destiny

NEHEBKAU: joined a persons ka to their body at birth, and with the ba (winged aspect of the soul) at death. has always existed, and swam in the primordial waters before Atum rose

NEFERTUM: god of perfume and beauty, said to be born from the bud of a blue lotus flower at the beginning of creation. associated with rebirth and transformation due to his association with Atum

RENENUTET: goddess of nursing children and the harvest. she determined the length of a person's life and the important events that would occur, sometimes considered the mother of Osiris as consort of Atum

NEPER: son of Renenutet, god of grain and fertility

ONURIS/ANHUR: a son of Ra, god of war and hunting

SHAY: personification of fate, no one could alter her decisions

SHED: god who protected against wild animals and mortal enemies

SHEZMU: god of wine, perfume and plenty

SOBEK: god of water and medicine, namely surgery. lord of marshes and wetlands

SOTHIS/SOPDET: astral form of Isis, represented the star Sirius

SAH: astral form of Osiris, represented the constellation Orion

SOPDU: son of Sothis and Sah, astral form of Horus, guarded over outposts and soldiers on the frontier

TAYET/TAIT: goddess of weaving and associated with embalming

WENEG: held up the sky and maintained balance between the heavens and earth

WEPWAWET: the "opener of ways," a funerary and hunter god

KHENTYAMENTIU: the "Chief of the Dead," a funerary god believed to have created important funerary rites

and the sons of Horus, who get their own special spot,

DUAMUTEF: protector god of the stomach, he represented East

HAPY: protector god of the lungs, he represented the North

IMSETY: protector god of the liver, he represented the South

QEBEHSENUEF: protector god of the intestines, he represented the West

[karaeilish]

23 and 32 + billie!!

౨ৎ prompts; b. eilish 01

౨ৎ 23 — “i’m bored, let’s play”

౨ৎ 32 — “this is a one time thing”

alcohol was evil, especially when it entered billie's system, and you always knew it. knew better, but you still let her finish the bottle of wine because she was too upset after breaking up with some random guy.

you sat still, just looking at her with a disappoint the whole time, listening to her talk about how he was an asshole, how he was a dick, how she hated him, and then how she missed him. your heart ached. you could treat her better. but she was just blind.

"bil, you should go to bed, you're drunk." you get up to offer her your hand, but she just smiles mischievously, grabbing your wrist and forcing you to straddle her lap. "billie—"

she doesn't want to hear anything, covering your mouth with her hand to finally make you shut up. your eyes open wide, pupils dilating. your chest tightens painfully for some reason.

"i'm bored, let's play" she giggles, removing her hand to replace it with her lips. fiercely and passionately, making you taste white wine on her tongue. you want to pull away, you should, but you just can't. not when something happens that you've been waiting so patiently and reverently for years. but the oxygen in your lungs doesn't last forever. and then reason takes over.

"oh god, billie, you're drunk" you immediately jump up from her lap, walking away and running your hands through your hair, trying to get your thoughts in order. but billie doesn't seem to see the problem at all. she calmly stands up, swaying slightly, and walks towards you until your bodies stop near the wall she had you pinned against.

"c’mon baby. i still know exactly what i'm doing." her face buries itself in your neck, leaving wet kisses on your soft skin. you press your lips together to keep from letting out a moan and letting billie continue, but she doesn't care. "this is a one time thing."

the words sting, but you swallow the feeling, giving her silent consent to do whatever she wants. "that’s my good girl."

fuck.

dropping to her knees, billie bites her bottom lip, slowly pushing your skirt and panties down your legs. the cool air makes you shake slightly, or maybe it's not just the change in your body temperature.

there's a hunger in billie's eyes, real hunger, like this is something she's been waiting for for years. her hand comes up to rest one of your legs on her shoulder as her face dives between your thighs, without waiting a second to taste you. sweet, she moans.

the feeling is electrifying. so much better than you ever imagined. her warm tongue explores your wet folds so skillfully and talentedly that you can't help but bury your hand in her long hair, letting melodic moans fly from your lips, in unison with hers.

your eyes close tightly, her fingers squeeze your hips so hard that you think there’ll be bruises the next morning. who knows, maybe that's what she wanted.

"so sweet, ma, could eat this pretty pussy forever" she moans between your legs, sending a wave of vibrations that make you grab the dresser standing next to you, just to keep your balance.

"fuck—bils, i'm gonna cum..!" your back arches, pushing your pussy further into her face. she doesn't dare deny you, only continuing to eat you out like a starving woman until you're slumped over her face with a throaty moan, trying to process the sensation but your head has been completely emptied by her tongue.

"so beautiful" she pulls away with a smile on her face, sitting back on her heels and looking up at you to study every reaction in your body.

as your orgasm subsides, you instantly remember what happened five minutes earlier and realize that you've made the biggest mistake of your life.

"we shouldn't have done this" ignoring your shaking legs, you pick up your clothes to put them on and frantically start pacing around the room to gather your things.

billie stands up, looking at you with an unreadable expression, but her eyes betray her concern.

"where are you going?" she takes a step forward, trying to somehow stop you.

"i'm leaving, billie. i can't do this." you turn to her, eyes filled with tears. "i'm not gonna be your girl, the one you can fuck to get over your exes, while ignoring my own feelings"

the words spill out of your throat, and you do nothing to stop them, finally telling billie the truth. her eyes are wide, like she has no idea what you're talking about.

gathering all your strength into a fist, you finally turn to leave the apartment, but a pair of strong hands grab you by the waist, pressing you against her warm body.

"let me go!" you try to break free from her grip, until she grabs your arms, trapping you in a cage.

"shut up already. i love you."

prompts

[ladyrohann]

My life in Camelot.

A not-so-brief introduction to one of my main DRs.

«There are heroes within us, there are lovers around us»

People always said Camelot is a place of legends, not in the epic battles and destroyer-dragons type of way, more like a quiet hum in between the trees, like a little whimsical story you cannot wait to tell to your friends. And no, it’s not that Camelot, not the one built entirely around kings and knights and the same five men shouting about honor and destiny. I decided to rewrite it. Theres a soft bloom in its roots. In this Camelot, the world is kinder. Wiser. More balanced. What we live in is called a gylanic system [1] —where masculine and feminine energies are in harmony, not fighting for dominance; where the Queen's voice weighs as much as the King's, where knights and druids make decisions in the same table -the famous round table- and magic is no longer something to fear but something to understand and to use, something to study. So naturally, although the people here is inspired by the 'Merlin' BBC show, there's little to no similarities. Merlin is young but has a strong presence in court because of his magic, Morgana never turns evil, Arthur lives with both parents and his fate is not doomed, Nimue is also a prestigious figure as the high prietess of Avalon [2], devoted to The Mother, the goddess of nature, of life and death, of magic... Because magic was never forbidden.

And I live there now as a sorceress. Not a casualty tho, my parents were important figures of Avalon, important enough to befriend the actual sovereigns, Uther and Ygraine. But the things were not always like this. My arrival at Camelot was sort of rushed, exciting but scary at the same time. I didnt even controlled it. It just happened. People always thought there was something special about me, they said i brought luck, peace, something they cant name but feel in their bones... specially when i walk into the woods; the beasts calm when they see me and the forest bows in my presence, as if greeting an old friend. I've always felt connected to things other people don't see: the silence under the roots, the shiver of magic in the air... But it was not until i turned 20 that everything started to change dramatically. Suddently i could levitate things, i could ignite the candles with a bare movement of hand and talk with the animals from my garden. The growing magic was unstoppable when i realized i had powers i couldnt even name.

My parents reached out to Uther and Ygraine, not as a political move but as an act of old trust. And, as fate would have it, Merlin dreamed about it, about me, said he saw a girl tangled in starlight, with hands full of ancient power and a future that would change the shape of things. It was dramatic, but Merlin is always like that. So I came to Camelot. Not as a princess, not as a knight, not even as someone important, just as me. A little unsure, a little too quiet, with magic under my skin and no idea what to do with it. But i went there to actually learn about myself, about the things i could do.

The pendragon siblings were the only ones i knew before i arrived. Arthur, Morgana and I were shoved together at some sort of council dinner when we were twelve, both bored out of our minds, stealing bread from the table and making up names for the knights behind their backs. Back to when Camelot felt too big for any of us, and the corridors were less about politics and more about hiding places and whispered secrets. Something clicked between us. Maybe because I never treated them like royalty, or maybe because I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. We wrote each other letters after that. Sometimes we only talked once a year. But it never felt like we’d drifted apart. Years passed. Life went on. Camelot became a story again. Arthur and Morgana were busy training. I was busy existing. Dreaming. Growing. And trying not to be afraid of the things I felt inside me, strange flares of energy, of knowing, of aching magic that didn’t yet have a name.

Arthur is a mess in the shape of a prince. brave, infuriating, golden-hearted and completely allergic to vulnerability. He was Arthur Pendragon, yes, heir to the throne and all that regal weight, but to me he was mostly just a gangly, over-serious boy with too much responsibility and not enough real friends. He pisses me off, i respond annoyed (because idgaf hes the future heir) and we banter. He's loud, cocky and he knows how to make me laugh when i least want to. I could say i hate him but that would be a lie, he has always tried to make me comfortable.

Morgana and I became friends in a way only children do, intensely, instinctively, as if we recognized something in each other before we could name it. Morgana is sharp. Not just clever, but insightful, in that way that makes you feel both seen and slightly unsteady. She notices everything, who’s lying, who’s scared, who’s pretending not to be lonely. She carries herself like a blade: elegant, polished, beautiful… and dangerous, if you don’t know how to approach her. But with me she lets the steel melt a little. We talk about magic in hushed voices at first, and then bolder as the years pass. She’s always been curious about that part of herself. She’s a high priestess-in-training, raised with both courtly poise and deep magical knowledge. She serves in the inner circles of Camelot’s magical advisory council and is known for her sharp wit, her fierce elegance, and her unshakable moral compass. Our friendship could be resumed as sisterhood, the kind that isn't forced or overly sweet, but solid and unspoken. We argue, we snap, we make up. There’s always love under it. In the late nights where we sit on her bed with the canopy drawn and talk about dreams, power, and the ache of feeling too much. There’s a certain kind of loyalty between us that isn’t loud. It’s just known. If I called her at midnight with blood on my hands and fear in my chest, she wouldn’t ask questions, just help me hide it. She’s the kind of friend who would hex someone for looking at me wrong and braid my hair while lecturing me about self-care.

Arthur knows we’re close, in fact, he’s probably half-exasperated by how Morgana and I can communicate with a single look during council meetings and completely derail his plans if we don’t like them. But there’s deep respect there. He grew up with both of us after all.

Merlin was the one to teach me and we basically became a team before either of us noticed. I have been always a private person and i was a pile of nervous and shyness when i arrived, but somehow this ridiculous wonderful boy manage to make me open up faster than i thought. He teased me, i mock him, we have conversations in glances and entire arguments without speaking a word, like a long lost older brother. He's the magic personified in the least magical-looking way.

Then there’s Nimue, the High Priestess. Mysterious and dreamy-eyed, with magic that feels like mist over water. Her magic is older, softer, more felt than explained. She taught me how to listen to my own rhythm, to the world around me. We’d sit in silence under the moon for hours, and somehow I’d leave knowing spells without ever speaking them aloud. She reminds me of the magic in being still. If Merlín is like a brother to me, Nimue feels like this cool mystical aunt that you can rant to for hours because you know she would listen to you and actually give you a raw honest advice.

The knights are also very present in my life. Kaia is a fierce warrior, Wild and unapologetically herself. I learn swordplay from her actually. She's one of the best out there. She always downplays me in combat but i always win her when we plan little archery competitions so I say its a 50/50 relationship. Kaia is always bantering with Gawain, non-stop. They are like cats and dogs, Gawain says something to annoy her and she throws the wildest comeback as if It was nothing. He is actually such a person himself. He dares everyone to do something foolish and then does it better himself. He’s chaos and courage in equal measure, but surprisingly soft when no one’s looking. He was the first to call me a lucky charm. He said walking beside me felt like walking with the forest’s blessing. Either way, they make everything easier, more welcoming.

As if theres wasnt enough chaos, i also befriended Ana, the daughter of a prestigious luthier of the city. She’s mischief wrapped in poetry. The kind of person who can make you cry and laugh in the same breath, with a song, or with a pointed comment about how your hair’s sticking up. We actually got close because of the music. I was at his fathers shop in the city wanting to get my lute fixed when she appeared and basically adopted me. She always sees through people, has this gracious hability to understand you and read you in seconds and then tell you how much you meant to her. She knows things before I do, sometimes. And she never lets me run away from myself. Its always easy to open up with her. She's soft, social and loyal to and end.

And there there's Lancelot. He’s also a knight of Camelot, sworn to protect the realm and its people, but he’s not just Arthur’s best swordsman, he's also one of his best mate. Since I’m kind of in a position of power and so is he (in very different realms: magic vs. combat), we end up being assigned together often. Guard and mage. Protector and seer. He’s at my side in court meetings, during missions, standing beside me while I negotiate with unpredictable creatures of old magic or warn the king of dreams gone wrong. he’s got that quiet kind of gravity, the kind that draws your attention not because he's loud or showy (he’s not), but because he walks into a room and somehow makes you want to listen. Polite, loyal to a fault, composed, with this constant quiet awareness like he’s always two steps ahead of a threat. Very knighlty. But once you’ve spent enough time with him (and i do spend a lot of time with him), the edges begin to soften. The harmless sarcasm starts to appear, aswell as the teasing and the humor (because hes surprisingly very funny when he lets his guard down). The moments when you realize he’s been paying attention to every little detail about you, although he just doesn’t say it straigh away.

Naturally this girl has a crush. I scripted a slow-burn friends-to-lovers dynamic with him. And that’s exactly what it is. The kind of burn that makes you lie in bed at night and go, “Wait… was that a look?”. He’s the kind of person who’ll sit beside you quietly when you need space but make a dry comment that cracks you up when you least expect it. We bicker about plans, fall into awkward silences, share little jokes no one else understands. And there’s tension. That subtle kind. The almost-touch. The side-glance. The he-was-watching-me-and-looked-away-too-fast kind.

There's always something to do in Camelot. I translate ancient texts and calm the enchanted creatures who wander too close to the city; Sometimes I spend long evenings in Merlin’s tower, walk barefoot in the sacred groves and gather herbs with Nimue or befriend the weird animals of the forest; I help Arthur with diplomatic things when he doesn’t want to talk to nobles or we entertain each other when the meetings began to go slower and boring, which happens more times than we would like; i share laughter over wine with Morgana, teasing each other about palace gossip and the absolutely horrible state of knightly fashion; or I train with the knights sometimes, even tho I’m not one of them. Just for the sake of it.

[1]. Gylany is a term originated by the austrian author Riane Eisler that the lithuan archaeologyst, Marija Gimbutas (1921-1994), used to explain the system of the pre-indoeuropean societies in the european continent during the neolithic. She defended that they were sustained in an equilibrated social system, not patriarchal nor matriarchal; pacific societies based on agriculture that worshipped goddesses of fertility - birth and death (a cyclical sense of existence). Her theory has got a lot of criticism but i find the idea super interesting. If you are curious about it and want to research a bit more, some of her most famours books are: The Goddesses and Gods of Old Europe, 7000 to 3500 BC: Myths, Legends and Cult Images (1974). The Language Of The Goddess: Unearthing The Hidden Symbols Of Western Civilization (1989). And The Civilization of the Goddess: the World of Old Europe (1991)

[2]. In this reality, Avalon is the name of the whole realm, so i could use the term Albion to be the place where im from.

[practicalgauntlet]

Δεν θέλω να σε αφήσω

"I don't want to leave you."

Your POV

Synopsis- Sacrifice one of your characters who doesn't want to die and watch them beg to live.

Category- Heavy angst

Notes- I'm writing a full-length fic for Ao3 and experiencing major writer's block, so here's a prompt I stole from Pinterest. This will be a two-part story but there will be no happy ending so don't ask (I have a plan for how I want this written) I will write the fluffiest story I can to make up for it though. Stay tuned.

Warnings- Heavy angst, character death, conon typical gore and violence, no happy ending, I'm feeling very evil today, kidnapping, grief, murder, mentions of torture but no description, established relationship, flashbacks to make all this bearable. Poorly written medical scenes.

Word count- 2,883

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Denial-

You were blindfolded, gagged, and bound in the back of a rattling van. As far as you could tell there were only two people beside you. One driving the van down a winding, bumpy road, and the other in the back with you- holding a gun to your forehead.

How could you have been that stupid?

How could you have let your guard down during a chase?

You were trained better than that.

The team had split up to cover more ground, two members in each direction. You were teamed up with Morgan, much to Spencer's chagrin. Ever since the wedding, he didn't like to be apart from you. But you had spotted a light shining off in the distance, its beam bouncing as if the owner was running. Stupidly, you charged for it, ignoring Morgan's call after you.

It wasn't until a bag was pulled over your head that you realized it was a trap. One that would pull you at least forty-five minutes away from the team.

The van jolted, bouncing up and down as if the road were littered with large rocks and potholes. Maybe it was, you had no idea where you were.

"Why can't we just shoot her? She's a cop."

Your gun-wielding captor murmured, pressing the barrel of the weapon harder against your head. Your heart was pounding but you refused to say anything, refused to give them anything they were looking for.

"Because, jackass, we need 'er. We could hold 'er ransom, she's obviously important. Did you see that one guy lookin' for 'er? I was scared he was goin' to start crashin' out."

"Ugh," The man in front of you presses the gun harder before pulling it away entirely. "Fine."

If your team was going to find you, you were going to have to do your part and get away. Leaving a trail was your best bet. Draw their attention to where you are heading if you can't get out. They were going to find you.

So, with a controlled deep breath, you kick your foot out to the man closest to you. Pride and energy exploded through you as soon as you heard that tale-tell sound of a gun clattering across the floor.

"What the fuck-"

You had managed to get both the gag and the blindfold off, your eyes adjusting to the brightness of the sun streaming in through the windshield and windows. You didn't let it deter you. Quickly you strike, kicking the man once again as you struggle unbinding your hands.

The van swerves and you lose your balance, falling to the ground and landing in a heap of twisted limbs. You didn't have enough time to react as the man towering above you brought the butt of the gun across your skull.

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Anger-

The sky was a vibrant blue with no cloud in sight. Spencer fussed over the use of sunscreen. He didn't want the honeymoon to be ruined over something as preventable as a bad sunburn. You let him dote over you, his wandering hands rubbing the sunscreen over your face and shoulders.

He was so handsome in his thin, white linen shirt and dark slacks, that leather satchel strapped across his chest like always. The two of you were at the beach, the city of Santorini glistening behind you with its bleach-white buildings and cobalt roofs.

When Spencer looked over to you, his sunglasses reflecting the pure joy on your face, he grabbed your hand.

"I'm so excited for forever with you."

"Me too, Spence." - You were tied up to a rusty beam, arms stretched high above your head, toes just barely touching the ground. Your arms ached, your head throbbed, your body was sore. But you still fought, still writhed in place to wear down the rope digging into your skin.

"They'll fucking find you!"

You scream, throat scratchy and ragged. It had been hours since you had been tossed into the basement and unceremoniously tied up. Could it have been more than that? Days? Weeks?

No one answered. Still, you kicked the air, threats echoing into silence. You were literally talking to a brick wall that this point.

"Do whatever you want to me, I'll never talk."

You spit at the ground, ears catching the faintest scrape before the door swung open. Two men and one woman approached. By the looks of it, with her head held high and her confident strut just a few feet in front of the men, she was their leader.

"What the fuck do you want with me, cunt!"

You scream again, energy and anger returned now that you have something organic to yell at. She grabs your face, dagger-sharp nails digging into your cheeks as she squeezes so hard she forces your jaw open.

"Watch your mouth, bitch."

"Make me."

She chuckles darkly, the sound so evil you feel it taint your soul.

"You heard the lady." She snaps her dangerously manicured fingers and the man to your right steps forward. "Make her."

Hours pass and you don't know how much longer you could take their torture. Knives, whips, waterboarding. Anything they could get their hands on, they used. But the lives of your team were at steak. If they weren't already on their way to rescue you.

Blood was lost and skin was ripped. You were kept awake, on the brink of consciousness for so long that you didn't think anything was real anymore. This was supposed to be an easy case, in and out. Spencer promised that he would take you out to dinner; a cute little Greek place that reminded the two of you of the honeymoon.

It was almost like you could see Santorini again. The blinding bright light of the lamp above you twisting and swirling into a midday sun. The sweltering hot heat of the basement bled into the summer air as the two of you walked from one bookstore to the other all the while Spencer rambled on about something you couldn't remember.

The brick walls morphed into the stark white walls of the Air B&B Spencer had rented, with its open windows and stone floors. And soon you were trailing behind Spencer, trying to keep up with his long legs as he pulled you down the cobblestone street.

Your face suddenly stung, your cheek igniting in a powerful blaze that ripped you out of your daydream.

"Wake the fuck up."

You spit in her face and feebly kick at her shins as you continue to dangle. You were too tired to do anything else.

She clicks her tongue at you, smiling a snake's smile.

"Your friends should be here any second. And if they play nice, I might let one of them live."

"You touch-"

Another slap, this time to your other cheek. That fire inside of you, the one that kept you going for however long you'd been there, was slowly dying. You were slowly dying.

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Bargaining-

They had set up a camera. It was an older model that sat on a tripod directly in front of you. On the table to your left sat an old landline; it was on speakerphone. You could hear your team making deal after deal for you, and you could only assume the camera was for them.

"Please..." You whisper, your voice meak. You were so tired, eyes heavy and body numb. You felt like you were floating.

The woman was gone now, her two goons watching you from the table. They refused every deal Hotch made. You don't know why they refused or why they were keeping you here. What did you have that wasn't already offered by your boss?

The man to the left, Dimitri as you learned, grinned an awful smile as he watched you dangle like meat on a hook.

"I'll kill you, you son of a bitch-"

You briefly hear Spencer's voice over speakerphone, the sound like a mirage in the middle of a desolate desert. It pulled you further into the memories that kept you from breaking.

"I love you so much, my darling..."

Dimitri stood, chuckling as you heard a scuffle from the other end of the phone. Spencer was most likely pulled away from the table, kicking and fighting as Morgan took him out of the room.

Your mind was slipping, switching back and forth between fantasy and reality. Soft kisses you could almost feel. The blinding pain in your wrists as the rope rips your skin. His shining smile as you say 'I do'. The throbbing ache all across your body where those fucking monsters continue to cut. The silk sheets sliding against your skin as Spencer kisses down your body.

Finally, Hotch made a deal they seemed interested in. A one-way ticket to dissappear without the threat of the government chasing after them.

"I guess we don't need you no more. It's such a shame, I was just startin' to like ya."

Dimitri raised his gun, the barrel aimed at your temple. It was so close, the bite of the metal against your skin sending adrenaline-filled shivers across your body.

"No, please!" You try, energy coursing through your body as the reality of the situation kicks in.

"Awe, little miss thinks she can plead her way out of this."

The other man, Kyle, joined in. His joy was just as twisted as Dimitri's.

"I don't want to die! You got what you want, please. I have a husband, and a life, and friends!"

You heard somewhere that if you recite your life, your loved ones, and memories, you'd remind them that you were human.

"Boo fuckin' hoo," Kyle mocked as he walked towards the phone and hung up on your team. He moved the camera closer, one last fuck you to the government that failed them.

"You don't understand, please. We got married three- three weeks ago, Penelope’s birthday is next week and I haven't gotten her a present yet. I haven't, I haven't seen my parents all year. Please put the gun down, put it down, please. "

He cocked the gun and squeezed the trigger.

You brace for the pain, the pressure you'd imagine you'd feel. But it didn't come.

"That shit won't work on me, sweetheart. I don't give a shit whether or not you have a litter of ankle biters and plan on meetin' with the president. You're not getting outta this."

"Why?"

"Because I like the look on your face."

Another click. You didn't know if there was even a bullet in the chamber, but every time he pulled the trigger, you flinched.

"This," He drags a meaty finger down your cheek, collecting the tears that were spilling. "Is why."

He licked the tear off his finger, grinning like a madman before pulling the trigger for the sixth time. This was it. Everything happened in slow motion, the release of the gun, the maniacal cackle of the men before you.

Still, you were alive. Still, you were dangling in that basement.

"Please!"

Is all you can say.

"Please stop,"

All other words disappear from your vocabulary.

"Stop, please. I don't wanna die!"

You were rendered a rambling child, begging for a chance to live while they played God with your existence.

Suddenly, you hear an explosion of sound above you. Thundering footsteps, gunshots, falling bodies. They found you.

"I'd say your last words now, mother fucker because you'll never be a free man again."

Dimitri growled in your face. He leaned in real close, his putrid breath fanning across your face.

"And you'll never make it to your one year anniversary."

Boiling, white hot pain spread from your stomach. A knife, its blade twisted in your guts before Dimitri and Kyle are tackled to the ground.

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Depression-

The salty air blew gently across your heated face, the crashing waves like music around you. Spencer pulled you out of the Air B&B after dinner, dragging you down to the beach where he convinced you to a late-night swim.

It was severely out of character for him, but he was just so happy to be married, to be by your side, that he allowed his impulses to rule the night.

The full moon was your only source of light, but you could be blind and still find your way beside him. He was loose and carefree in a way you've never seen him before.

The two of you were waist-deep in water, the tepid waves lapping at your bodies. He held you, one hand in yours and the other on the small of your back, as the two of you rocked to the sound of the ocean.

"I don't think I've ever been this happy before."

He confessed, his face bright. He was looking at you like you were the only girl in the world, and at the moment - with the beach empty - you felt like it.

"Me neither, Spence."

"Please stay with me..."

His voice was different. It was strained, not at all matching the blissful expression on his face. Spencer sounded far away, panicked. All at once, the comfortable warmth of the summer night ocean turned boiling.

Wet, blazing warmth spread across your stomach and leg.

"What?"

"Come, on. Wake up, please. Stay with me."

"I don't want to leave you, Spence."

You were so confused. You weren't going anywhere, not anytime soon. Especially not now.

His face screwed up, his brows drawing in. Tears you didn't notice fell from his lashes as his chin wavered.

"Then stay with me, please."

The night sky disappeared. In its place was a white ceiling. The sound of crashing waves turned into wailing sirens and blunt orders. Spencer's hands around your body turned into the straps of a gurney.

"Spencer?"

You didn't know where he was, your mind still desperately grasping that memory.

"I'm right here, baby. I'm here."

Spencer leaned over you and his worried face was in your vision. He placed his hand on your face, his thumb tracing idle circles into your cheek.

"Where are we?"

Where did the ocean go? You miss it terribly.

"We're on our way to the hospital, darling. You're going to be okay. "

You had the feeling that he was saying that more to himself than to you. But it was comforting nonetheless.

Your eyes felt too heavy, your body too cold. It didn't feel like you were in an ambulance, it felt like you were floating in the ocean, your body suspended in time.

"No, no, no!"

Spencer yelled.

Why was he yelling? You were having such a good time at the beach.

"Baby, please!"

He tapped your cheek, his hands suddenly too warm.

"Calm down, Spence."

Words spilled out of your mouth like molasses, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth.

"Were in Greece..."

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Acceptance-

"Scalple."

There was an insistent beeping.

Everything was dark, your body floating in a void that was all too familiar.

Muffled murmurs, a metallic release of air, something wet.

"Baby?"

You turn, and the darkness bled into a soft light. You were in Spencer's apartment, arms and legs tangled with his.

"Yes, my love?"

"I'm going to miss you."

You prop yourself up on your elbow and tuck a piece of hair behind his ear.

"What do you mean, dork? I'm not going anywhere."

Spencer looked so sad.

"What's wrong, Spence?"

He pulled you forward with both hands on your face. Spencer kissed you deeply, his lips moving over yours in a way that had your heart soaring.

When he pulled away, he tucked you under his chin.

"Nothing, just rest."

The sheets were not as soft as your remember, his body not as warm. Something was off. And then it hit you. The van, the torture, the knife.

"I'm dying, aren't I?"

Spencer said nothing, only pulling you closer.

"Did I at least get to say good bye?"

A kiss to your forehead but still no comment.

"Spencer, say something please..."

"The time I spent with you had been the best years of my life."

Oh god.

"Don't say that, baby."

"You'll always be the love of my life. No one will replace you."

"No, Spencer. Stop."

"I'll see you soon, my darling. You better be waiting for me on the other side."

You claw at him, begging him to stop saying such stupid things. But he doesn't respond, only settling further into the bed and holding you as tight as he could.

After a while, you give up and hold onto him as well. You lay there, in his arms, for so long you start to relax.

"I'll wait for you, Spencer. But do me a favor."

He finally looks at you, tears freely flowing down his face.

"Don't subject yourself to a lonely life just because I'm not there. If you meet someone, you meet someone. I just hope they make you happy. That's all I want."

He smoothes his hand down the back of your head.

"Promise me, Spence."

"I promise."

You knew he was lying, but you also knew this wasn't Spencer. It was your subconscious mind preparing you for departure.

You stay in his arms after that, imagining what awaited you on the other side.

[allurearia]

Sweet sweet infinity.

Where Gojo and you fight over a cake<3

Satoru Gojo x reader. Tooth rotting fluff!

The cafeteria at Jujutsu High was buzzing, filled with its students decompressing after a long day of training and some after stressful missions. You’d claimed a corner table near the window, not wanting a certain white haired freak to find you. On your plate was the last piece of chocolate ganache cake from lunch, your reward for surviving yet another grueling training session.

You picked up your fork, ready to dive in, when a voice cut through the quiet hum of chatter.

“Y/N, is that the last piece of cake?”

You didn’t even need to look to know who it was. Only one person could make your name sound so smug, so infuriatingly teasing. Gojo Satoru dropped into the seat across from you, his black glasses pushed up onto his forehead, revealing his gorgeous blue eyes.

“Maybe it is,” you replied warily, instinctively shielding your plate with your arm.

“I thought we were friends,” he said, leaning forward dramatically. “Friends share, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes. “Friends also respect boundaries.”

“Boundaries are overrated,” he said with a grin, reaching for the plate.

“Gojo, don’t you dare!” you yelped, pulling  the plate out of his reach.

But you underestimated his speed. Before you could react, he swiped the plate clean out of your hands, holding it above his head with a victorious smirk.

“Gojo!” you shouted, jumping to your feet. “Give it back!”

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, tilting the plate to inspect the cake. “You know, this looks pretty good. I think I’ll keep it.”

“Don’t you dare eat that!” You lunged for him, but he held the plate higher, his absurd height working entirely in his favor.

“Gotta work for it, Y/N,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with delight.

You glared at him, trying to think of a strategy to get your beloved cake back, but he was already backing away, the plate still held hostage.

“Catch me if you can!” he called, darting toward the door.

“Gojo Satoru!” you yelled, chasing after him.

The two of you tore through the hallways, earning bewildered looks from other students. Gojo, of course, made a game out of it, dodging around corners and leaping over tables with ease, without dropping the cake of course.

“Why are you so fast?!” you panted, hot on his heels.

“Why are you so slow?” he shot back, laughing as he turned into an empty classroom.

You skidded to a stop in the doorway, scanning the room. Gojo stood at the far end, leaning casually against the teacher’s desk, the plate balanced in his hand.

“Out of breath already?” he teased.

“You’re infuriating,” you muttered, stepping inside.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. “Gojo, I am so serious, if you eat that cake, I’m never speaking to you again.”

He feigned a gasp, clutching his chest. “Harsh, Honey, Harsh.”

“Gojo.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, stepping closer. “Tell you what. I’ll give you the cake if…”

“If what?” you asked suspiciously.

“Hmm... let me think,” he said, tapping his finger to his cheek.

“If you admit I’m your favorite person at Jujutsu High.”

Your face burned. He was always like this teasing you relentlessly, pushing your limits with him, making your heart race.

“Not a chance,” you said, standing tall.

“Then no cake for you.” He raised the fork to his mouth, his smile downright evil.

Desperation took over. Without thinking, you grabbed a handful of frosting from the plate and smeared it across his face.

Gojo froze, fork halfway to his mouth, his expression a mix of shock and amusement. “Oh, you’re dead.”

Before you could react, he retaliated, swiping frosting off his cheek and flicking it at you. It hit your shoulder with a cold splat.

“What are we, five?!” you exclaimed, but you couldn’t hide your laughter as you grabbed a napkin which was on the plate in Gojos hand, miraculously still there and wiped the frosting that had landed on your shoulder.

Gojo was just standing there, his head tilted watching you.

You quickly curled up the napkin into a ball and-

Flung it at him.

He let out a shriek which was comparable to that of a highschool girl. You launched yourself at him again, this time using the table for leverage, but his Infinity was flared up, and you felt the invisible barrier just barely graze your hand.

“Ugh, seriously?” you grumbled, stepping back to reassess. “Stop being such a brat.”

“I’m not the one making a scene over cake,” he teased, taking a bite, savoring it as if he wasn’t about to make you lose your mind.

“Gojo,” you warned, your tone sharp, but your eyes were still locked on the cake. “If you don’t hand that over, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” he interrupted, taking another slow, exaggerated bite, his grin only widening. His face was covered with the cake's crumbs and the frosting you had smeared all over.  “Come on, what’s the worst you can do?”

You glared at him for a second before making your move. You dove for the cake with surprising agility, trying to snatch it away from his grasp.

He stepped back with a smirk, just out of reach, and you were left standing there, trying not to get frustrated. “You’re impossible.”

“Oh, am I?” He teased, but his voice dropped slightly, the playful tone still lingering. “You really want it that badly?”

Your eyes narrowed as you shifted to the side, eyeing him like a hawk. “It’s not about the cake, it’s about you being a pain in my ass.”

You made a sudden move, feigning going for the plate again, only to twist at the last second and tackle him.

The two of you fell to the floor in a tangled mess, laughter bursting from Gojo as you fought over the cake. You managed to knock the plate out of his hands, but the piece of cake was still within reach.

“Ha! Gotcha!” you cheered, grabbing the cake just as Gojo tried to reach for it.

He huffed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“And you’re annoying,” you shot back.

But before you could take a bite, he grabbed your wrist, his grin still playful but with a touch of something deeper. “You’re not gonna eat that without sharing, are you?”

You hesitated, glancing down at the cake in your hand. “You think I’m gonna share after all that?”

Gojo tilted his head, his gaze softening just slightly. “You know, I’m not all bad. I’ll even say ‘please’ if you want.”

You smirked, considering the offer. “I don’t know. You’ve got a lot of making up to do.”

“Please?” he said again, voice light, but his eyes were almost pleading now.

You sighed dramatically, holding the cake out to him. “Fine. But this is a one-time deal.”

Gojo took the cake from your hand, his grin never faltering. “You’re too generous, Y/N. But I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading in your chest. “Idiot,” you muttered, but the smile tugging at your lips couldn’t be stopped.

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” he said, leaning in closer with a playful wink.

And for a moment, the cake didn’t matter to you at all.

[widowbitessting]

The Devil is What You Drink - A Sugar Mommies Drabble

Word Count: 2110

Rating: General with fluffy scenes. SFW!

Dom!Natasha Romanoff, Dom!Wanda Maximoff, Dom!Carol Danvers x Sub!Reader

In retrospect, ringing one of your doms when you’re extremely tipsy and walking home alone at 1am, really isn't the best idea. 

But with the wine running through your system, it really doesn’t bother you. 

Natasha picks up after the first ring, voice heavy with sleep and it makes you grin broadly; almost jumping up and down on the spot with excitement. 

“Hi, Natty!” 

“...baby, hi.” She inhales deeply and you can picture her rubbing her eyes. “What time is it? Where are you?” 

“Oh, y’know me and MJ had that friendaversary didn’t we! Five whole years, Natty, can you believe it? How I haven’t killed her yet, I don’t know.” 

“Breathe, love.” 

“So I got home from class and MJ really wanted to go out for a drink and I was like, sure why not! So we went to that cute bar I took you one time - I got that cute flower in my drink, remember it, Natty?” 

“Yes, baby, I remember.” 

“So we went there and we wanted to be fancy again and got wine. Now I know, I know, wine is evil but it tastes so good so it can’t be that bad, eh? So we had like…two…maybe three bottles and just talked about all the stuff we’ve done together, cos’ like, five years is super long, isn’t it, Natty?”

“Yes, baby.”

“And then -” You boot a stray beer can with your foot and send it soaring into a nearby wall. It’s loud, especially in the quiet area you’re in and it immediately catches Natasha’s attention. 

“Baby…I haven’t heard MJ speak the entire time you’ve been on the phone to me…normally she pipes up…where is she, darling?” 

“Well she got picked up by Peter about fifteen minutes ago and the bar isn’t too far from home! So I thought I’d go on an adventure and - ” 

“Stop.” A deep, low voice, commands. 

The order comes so suddenly that it catches you off guard. You cease all words and movements as your inner submissive drops to her knees.  

“So you’re on your own?” Natasha asks. 

“...maybe…I just thought the fresh air would do me good..walk off the alcohol. Clever right?” 

“Y/N, you tell me right now if you are on your own walking through the dark. It’s 2am!”

After hearing your full name you can’t help but bite back a little with sarcasm.

“Well yeah, I - I have to get home somehow duh. I can’t afford a taxi and it’s only around the corner.” 

You hear Natasha rummaging around through the phone as you twirl a loose strand of hair around your finger. 

“Look around, tell me where you are.” 

You do as you’re told. 

“Hmmm…well I see black ‘cos it’s dark…”

“Y/N.”

“Again with the name, gah! Erm, I dunno, I took the shortcut and -”

“You have to the count of fucking five to get to the nearest streetlight, I swear to God.” 

“But it’s all the way over there!” 

“5.”

“I can make it there before you get to two!” 

You take off sprinting, giggling gleefully as you go, one hand pinning your cell to your ear as your other arm sticks out to keep your balance.

Only, it’s you. In heels. In the dark. 

You take the grand total of seven steps before you go crashing down, ankle bending at a near 90 degree angle as gravity takes you to the cement. You scrape your knees and your palm, squeaking upon impact.

“Detka, did you just fall?” 

“Mhm, running in heels is not the way to go. Ouch.” 

You’re lucky there’s no glass.

“Get up for me, can you do that? Are you okay?” When you reply, she continues, “now walk slower to the streetlight. And please don’t fall over any more twigs as you go.”

“That was one time!” 

“One time too many.” 

Limping and grumbling as you go, you manage to get out of the alleyway without any more injuries and cross over to the streetlight. 

“Natty, there’s gum on it. Gross.” 

“Don’t eat it. Don’t touch it.”

You drop your hand. 

“Fiiiine.”

“Where are you now?”

“I dunno, outside?” 

An exasperated sigh reaches your ears. 

“Tell me exactly what you see, Y/N. Be specific.” 

A car door slams shut through the phone as you glance around.

“I see trees…houses…oh the moon! Woah, pretty.”

“If you’ve somehow managed to get to the moon, Y/N, I will lose my shit.” 

“If I take a picture will you see it? It’s so pretty! Carol loves the moon.” 

“Baby, what else do you see?” Natasha gently reminds you. 

“Erm…oh! Oh, a restaurant! Can we go Natty? It looks nice!” 

“What’s it called babygirl, gimme a name.” 

Natasha’s car roars to life. 

“Why don’t you just stalk me, hmm? Be quicker.” You let out a giggle. 

“Because then I’d have to hang up, so no.” Natasha is silent for a second, waiting for your giggles to calm down, knowing her reply just fell on cotton filled ears. “Are you finished?” 

“Maaaaybe.”

“Now,” she warns, “I want you to listen to me because you only have one last chance, Y/N. Give me the name of that fucking restaurant before I spank your ass into next week.” 

“M-Mama’s…” You squint at the flag. “Oh! I think it’s Jamaican, I love Jamaican food!”

“Mhm, I know you do. Do me a favour? Have a look at the menu? Pick something you'd think we’d all like.” 

“Really? Even something like curried goat?” You scurry to the lit up window, eyes taking a second to adjust to the bright lights coming from inside. “‘Cos I had that once and I thought there was a fruit loop in there but it wasn’t - there’s a cat! Hi cat!” 

“NO!” Natasha practically deafens you. “Y/N, do not follow that cat!” 

“But he’s so fluffy! He’s got a big tail, hi baby!” 

“Y/N, it’ll have fleas, no! Do not touch it, stay where you are!”

“But Hedwig -” 

“Isn’t Hedwig from Harry Potter?” 

You stop walking, ashamed that those words even came from her mouth. 

“I let you fuck me with that mouth. Yes! It’s Hedwig! Harry Potter’s owl!” 

“Do you want to watch it when we’re home?” 

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Can we really?”

“Only if you choose something really yummy from that restaurant then, baby girl. C’mon, Harry Potter is on the line here.” 

“But -” 

“Say bye to Hedwig.”

“...bye Hedwig.” Your voice is tiny and it breaks Natasha’s heart. “Safe travels! Drink milk and eat tuna!” 

“God, you’re so fucking cute, baby.” Natasha mumbles. You, of course, miss it, far too busy waving the black cat off. “Now pick us something to eat, we’re so hungry.”

“You got it, boss!” 

“Good girl, baby. You’re doing so well for me. What do you see?” 

You peer close to the menu, bumping your nose against the glass. 

“Hmmm…” You don’t even hear her as the car rolls up behind you. “I dunno yet but I might get served right away, Natty, it’s empty inside. How lucky is that?” 

“So lucky baby, who’d have thought a Jamaican restaurant would stay open until 2 in the morning.” 

“I know right? But I’m not sure what to get! Maybe I should ask someone.” 

“Y/N -” 

You ignore her and go to the door, pulling it with such a force that you don’t expect it to not open. Your grip slips and you stumble back.

“Wha - hey. Daddy the door is stuck!” You go back and try to push it this time, coming to no avail. “My food! Excuse me? I can’t get in!” 

“Y/N, tone your voice down, darling.” 

“No, the food! I can see it!” You actually have tears forming in your eyes. “I want my dumplings! No! Daddy, I need you. Help me open this stupid door!” 

“Daddy’s here, baby.” 

When Natasha’s hand gently takes you by the wrist, you look at her with a pout, unphased that she’s even there. 

“Dumplings, daddy. They’re there, see!” 

She doesn't even look away from you. 

“Yes, baby, I do. But you’re shivering. Let’s get you into the car, hmm? Get all warm before you eat dumplings.” 

“...make sure you tell them they need to fix their door…that’s so bad for service…” 

You all but sag into the redhead as she carries your exhausted body to the car. 

“You’re getting sleepy now, huh?”

“Mmm, so sleepy.” 

Natasha takes her sweatshirt off and before you can even protest, shoves it over your head, enveloping you in her scent. If you hadn’t been so tipsy, you might have clocked her sweatpant and sports bra combo sooner. Perhaps even have drooled. 

You’ve been in the car for five minutes when you finally realise. 

“Woah,” You can’t help but stare at her abs. “I could eat a six course meal off there.” 

“You’ve licked whipped cream off them before, detka.” 

“Yeah well - I - you’re just, damn.” You force yourself to blink. “Someone get me a glass…I’ve just found me a tall drink of water.” 

Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Smooth, darling, smooth. Hitting on me with Disney.” 

“Did it work?” 

“No. But A+ for effort.” 

“Dang it.” 

You pass out for a few minutes, after humming a song from Tangled to yourself. You’re warm. Cosy. Wrapped up in a Natasha scented burrito and it lulls you to sleep. Jerking only slightly when the car door opens and the cold wind hits your body. Natasha - because of course she is that strong - scoops you up effortlessly into her arms and easily moves you both to the elevator. Your neck drops back, a small snore escaping you. 

She has you. You’re officially asleep, safe and sound. Punishment already thought and saved ready for tomorrow. All she has to do is carefully place you on the bed, sneak out to get water and slide in next to you. 

Only, the second your head touches the pillow, your eyes fly open and Natasha’s soul almost leaps from her body.

“Jesus fuck!”

“Dumplings! Daddy, we left my dumplings!” 

Besides you, Wanda stirs. 

“No way, close your eyes and go back to sleep, Y/N. C’mon, You were snoring.”

You pout, tears once again forming in your eyes. 

“But - ” You hiccup. “They’re lonely! They saw me, they knew I was there to eat them and I left them there!” 

“Tomorrow, darling.” 

“No, now.” 

“I will get you all the dumplings in the world tomorrow, if you will just-go-to-sleep.”

You ponder, glossy eyes looking into Natasha’s stressed ones. 

“...that’s a whole lot of dumplings, daddy. Bit excessive actually.” 

“Detka, I swear to God -” 

“Deal!” You giggle. “God I love dumplings. Got a dumpling shaped hole in my tummy as we speak. Riiiight here.” You point to your stomach and Natasha has to stop herself from laughing. 

“Go to sleep and you will get them faster.” 

“...dumplings? What? What’s happening?”

It’s like you forgot Wanda was even there, reacting like a child of Christmas morning when you register she’s right next to you; auburn locks a wild mane around her head. 

“Hi!” 

Wanda’s scream of shock is muffled by your shoulder and you both end up rolling into Carol. 

Who isn’t impressed. At all. 

“Separate bedrooms, Romanoff. I told you.” She glares at the red head who has her face in her hands. “Why the fuck have I been woken up by Y/N talking about dumplings?” 

“She’s drunk.”

“Tipsy!”

“Oh I love tipsy, baby!” Wanda snuggles into you closer. “Hi tipsy baby.” 

“Hi none tipsy mommy!”

“I cannot - ” Carol jumps up out of the bed just in time to avoid being flattened by the two rolling bodies. “Nat, what?”

“It’s a long story.” 

“Tell me tomorrow. You’re on your own.” The blonde walks past Natasha and kisses her before vacating to the safety, and peaceful, spare room. “If you can’t control them, you know where I am. They’ll tire themselves out eventually.” 

“Or order enough dumplings to feed 5,000 people. Get off your phone, Wanda!” 

The other woman looks at her a little sheepishly. 

“But dumplings sound so good right now.” 

“Have fun babe!” Carol shouts. 

Natasha sighs, watching as you and Wanda roll around the bed excitedly. You’re part way through telling her about your adventure, far too sleep deprived to notice her dommy side appearing when you tell her you walked by yourself. It’s quickly squashed down when you mention Natasha’s brave and daring rescue and you mount her legs to stare into her eyes. 

“Dumplings, mommy. We need to get them.”

“We really do.”

With an over exaggerated eye roll, Natasha slams her head on the bedroom wall. 

“I give up.”

[rebo-chan]

Okay so I make a lot of canon-adjacent posts. *gestures at my food post* very canon very important very informative. But my heart is full of whimsy and magic and sugar and spice and everything nice.

Today I wanted to talk about some of my hcs that I have regarding Tsuna and Reborn. Shit I just completely made up ^v^ I'll do five each to not make this a long post again rkehns.

Tsuna:

Grows up to really like coffee like his mentor, but could never really stand straight espresso. From my food post research, I saw that he is a snack food fiend. So, I think he's the type to enjoy lattes, frappuccinos, and mocha. What I'm saying is that he walks into Vongola meetings with a iced coffee and he stress-drinks it for the sugar rush.

Good with kids! I don't think he wants kids of his own, because he has enough of those, but he's the perfect balance of playful and strict. I do think though, if he did become a parent by some accident, he'd be the stricter one of the two. Mom is gonna be the fun one and Dad is the one that brings crazy things around you, but tries to put you to bed at 8pm.

Still a bit of a dumbass as a mafia boss. The moment he found out he has to give salaries to people and try to tax that shit and file it with their IRS but also do the calculations himself, since technically he shouldn't show that information to Gokudera or anyone else that will know how to Math. He lives each paycheck day in fear that he will wake up the next morning and get arrested for fraud.

Actually bars anyone from bringing in pets to Vongola HQ. Believes they have their hands full with their box animals. "No, Yamamoto please we can't keep the box of stray puppies lets take that to a shelter -" "Gokudera, I see that you have a kitten in your pocket where.. where did you get it.." "Hibari.. Carry on, ignore me :)"

Has developed noise-cancelling ears. Doesn't hear the screams anymore. An ally family will comment on the noise at Vongola HQ and Tsuna will be like "..wdym? :o do you hear something?" Look around and will completely ignore Fuuta and I-Pin strapping Lambo to a medical desk as they are threatened by Bianchi, who is putting on sterile gloves and getting the scalpel. The silence though? The silence scares him. (WHAT A SOMBER LINE TO LEAVE OFF ON)

Reborn:

Super good with the ladies. I know this is something said in the story, but I mean the type that has the whole casual flirting with no weight to it thing down. But, also a little bit standoffish, like you'll never really get to know him this way. It's very strategic, but he does it for fun!!

Tries to teach Tsuna how to hide a body on multiple occasions, in case he ever needs it, but mostly to torment Tsuna. "You can't incinerate all your enemies to ash everytime, it'll get really obvious after awhile. You have to spice it up. Now, put on these gloves. I have someone for us to use" "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE SOMEONE?"

I've said this one before, but it deserves saying again! I've always believed that pre-curse, his cosplay skills had real use! It was something he would use to sneak into buildings into or seduce who he needed to, before he brings the gun to their head. Very comfortable in skirts, dresses, wigs, makeup, etc. Wears his new identities like a second skin.

He snickers and sneers and smirks his way throughout the series (or does a lil maniacal evil laugh), but I bet his real laugh, uncursed, is deep and low. Something he keeps just in his throat, not loud at all. A softened version of his smirk on his face, pleased and relaxed. If you weren't paying attention, you'd miss it as he flips back into his regular demeanor.

LOVES judging things. Always the referee in their games (Snowfight!). Taste-testing (Mochi chapter!). Anything. He's judgmental and you WILL hear his opinion. I fully believe in the three criminal brothers episode, where Nana gets him coffee beans from a shop, he gets straight home afterwards and stands on the counter with his hands on his hips as it brews. He was prepared. Tsuna buys new snacks so Reborn opens all of them to take a bite and decide which one he likes best before taking it, leaving Tsuna with a bunch of opened bags. Ranks the guardians on obscure shit just to get them riled up "Most likely to win at a dance competition in a chicken suit" and he'll put Yamamoto above Gokudera just to watch him fume. A villain. I love him.

OKAY EVERYONE, THAT'S ALL I'LL DO FOR TODAY. Thank you for reading this far I hope you enjoyed reading it. PLEASE give me your hcs, I'd love to hear them. I need a lil pick me up c: It can be any character. Someday, I might do hcs for the other charas too. I think.. a lot about these guys. OKAY THANKS BYE !!!

[ghysry]

Don't feel compelled to write this if you don't want to!, but I think it would be pretty cool to see TUA siblings interacting with reader in the six years without powers they can be with them since the first apocalypse and they become like family, reader can be one of the other 43 children with powers! Doesn't have to be with any specific character but I will admit Five is my favorite and they did my boy wrong in season 4

*Does a soldier salute pose* Five is my favorite too. I get you, Anon.

Oneshot! Tags: Reader x Five, Reader x Five Hargreeves, Comfort/..., I'm feeling evil today...

---------------------------------------------------

"I think this is better."

There's a reason why humans are off balance when one of their senses suddenly stops working - like the blind, or the deaf. Imagine living in a world where you can't see after years of being used to it, or living in a world where all you can do is read lips instead of hearing the sound of music. We hold our senses very close to us like organs ; because they are.

Which is why it took you an embarrassingly long time to get used to the fact that you no longer had the ability to control the state of matter. You know - the basics. Gas to liquid, liquid to solid, solid to gas, human to vapor, atom to extremely dense gas. It served you the most purpose, you were deemed the most powerful out of all the siblings, well, that is to account for the fact that you were never adopted by Reginald Hargreeves.

Ah..hm, let's take a detour down memory lane for how this happened.

"Fascinating..truly fascinating. How much would you like for them?" Reginald Hargreeves peered down onto the basket containing a blanket wrapped neatly around the quiet infant, their eyes closed and their small chest rising and falling with each breath. "I'm not going to sell my child to you, you creep!" Your mother, a fighter during her first weeks with her only child, kicks Reginald Hargreeves right in his no-longer-child-giving nuts, which causes him to double down and cough much later than a normal person usually would.

Alright, now that you know how you weren't adopted, back to the present!

Nowadays you work alongside your life time partner, or should you say, husband. Both in the CIA, both crowned as the youngest officers of peace within this barely secret government. Which leads you to here - you, in your usual spot on the couch, laying down with a groan as your back hurts, and then groaning even more when this man child--your man child--flops onto you with a groan coming out of his mouth himself.

"Augh you're going to crush me!" You tilt your head back, trying to get into a comfortable position as this big cat can't help but cling tightly onto you, even going as far as grumbling out nonsense on how he's not that heavy, and you're just too weak to stand his superiority, to which you rub at his nape and feel his throat rumble with a purr.

"You are so lucky I love you. Or else I'd tease you about the whole purring thing," Though you belittle him about his weird capabilities, you keep on scratching at his nape, then behind his ear, feeling the vibration on your chest. "Shut up.." he finally answers, leaning his head into your hand, a look of satisfaction crossing his eyes when you massage his back. He's way too old for this job, and so are you.

Five wraps his arms around you, tired eyes looking into yours, and before you could laugh at his face he's already digging it into your chest, inhaling your scent and complaining about his boss (which was also your boss) being stupid because he wanted Five to work on something more significant, rather than analyzing a group of insane geeks sitting around in a cult-support system whatever the matter.

To be fair, a lot of them have a point.

Five gulps when he lifts his head back up and stares at you, into your eyes, deeper into your soul. Years and years of fighting, bickering, war, the feeling of dying and being remade, the feeling of having to fight for your life against yourself, seeing your siblings, your only family, die right in front of your eyes without being able to do anything about it..he finally achieved peace. Peace with you.

"I love-"

"Five?" Your hand comes to ruffle his hair, eyes staring at the ceiling, feeling grateful for your sentient weighted blanket. "..hm?" He responds, arms tightening around your waist to the point where you feel like you can't breathe. Chuckling at this, you close your eyes, plunging the world into a deep darkness you've seen thousands, maybe even millions of times.

it's time to wake up.

Five shoots out of his bed, cold sweat beading down his face, his head hurting like someone had narrowly missed burrowing a bullet into it, one hand clutching the blanket he lulls himself to sleep into, the other trying to clench around a hand he knows isn't there.

"Fuck." He falls back down into his bed, which spells an awful lot like marigold, hands coming up to rub at his face and wake him. The familiar venomous feeling in his chest seems to encapsulate him when he blinks, your face is there every time he moves, his heart beats of you, yet the universe doesn't even know who you are.

Oh yes. You were never supposed to be here, were you?

[xvxblahhhxvx]

I really, really hate when people say that Dazai doesn't care about Akutagawa and that he never did.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not saying that what Dazai did to him was right, nor that it was justified. He treated him awfully, he abused him, and I'm not trying to insinuate that his treatment was fair, or that his motives excuse the actions. But what I am trying to say is that the motivation behind it wasn't cruelty, both in the past and present.

For starters, this is the interaction when they first met, from the short story The Heartless Cur:

He told him right off the bat that he wouldn't be treating him well. He never forced Akutagawa into anything, and even offered to give him and his sister enough money to live the rest of their lives content, never to hear from him again. But he told Akutagawa he might be able to give him a reason to live-something the boy had been lacking his whole life. By giving him a "master" as the short story says, someone to look up to and follow. Again, the way he was treated was brutal, but Dazai's intentions weren't evil.

Now, I don't want to do a "Dumbledore said calmly" meme, BUT... check out the difference between this scene in the anime vs this scene in the Dark Era light novel (apologies if the audio sync got a little messed up)

Dazai sounds frustrated, like Akutagawa isn't worth the breath it takes to speak of him. But vs the light novel...

Yeah. Pretty different. This scene came after the one where Dazai punched and shot Akutagawa for killing the soldiers, forcing Akutagawa to learn to use his ability in a way he never had before. And then now- "Dazai grinned from ear to ear" - that sounds a lot like he's proud rather than ashamed. He clearly does think Akutagawa is powerful (as Atsushi says later on, Dazai acknowledged him long ago). And then he admits that he truly feels he could be powerful, and that Akutagawa would destroy himself had he not stepped in to train him.

Now. This doesn't make what he did right, and we see from Beast how Akutagawa might have turned out if someone like Oda had been the one to find him and take care of him. But the fact of the matter is, Dazai believed he was doing this for Akutagawa's own good. And this was the world he lived in; Dazai was incapable of treating someone like Akutagawa well in the place he was in mentally. He saw his own darkness in him, and therefore, couldn't treat him the same way he could Odasaku and Ango. But he did care for him, and more importantly, he wanted to help him learn to stop killing.

Which brings us to the present.

Dazai's actions towards Akutagawa, especially at the beginning of the series, are of a different nature than they were in the past. He doesn't hit him, but he riles him up. Tells him Atsushi is better than him with the intent that he'd go after him brutally. Hangs up on him, makes him desire Dazai's approval, essentially manipulating him in both the finales of season two and three, as well as in season five. And this is for one reason that is expressed in beast: he believes that Akutagawa and Atsushi would work extremely well together, but that they'd need to fight in order for their souls to truly connect and for that trust to be built up. Dazai admits that he'd been considering them as duo since the moment he met Atsushi-which proves he never forgot about Akutagawa, or even considered him second rate in terms of power. But he felt that he needed to push Akutagawa in order for the two of them to connect, putting both of them in danger, yes, because he knows that the two of them possess strengths that balance the other out, both in literal attacks and in their philosophies. Which is why he looked so happy at the end of season three when Atsushi tells him about the deal with Akutagawa not killing for six months. Atsushi was able to reach out to Akutagawa in a way Dazai never believed himself capable, even if he had to manipulate both subordinates to achieve it. And again, this isn't to say that Dazai is right for using the both of them like that, or treating Akutagawa like dirt in order to force a relationship with Atsushi. But it wasn't down of out malice or apathy, that Dazai never truly cared for him and only for Atsushi. Because if that were true, he wouldn't bother to have them work together the way he did. It also comes down to the fact that Dazai himself grew as a person since he met Akutagawa. And this is most evident in the finale of season two, when he puts his hand on Akutagawa's shoulders, smiles genuinely and says "you have become strong." Only after does Akutagawa temper his anger and desire to kill to work with Atsushi to protect the city, Dazai calls him strong in more ways than one. Because all he ever wanted for Akutagawa was, in a way, what Odasaku and the rest of the agency was telling him in beast: to control the raging beast inside of him before it consumes him.

This isn't to say that the abuse was justified. That it was ok for Dazai to insult him and use him in order to achieve his goals. But I really hate when people say that Dazai never cared for Akutagawa, because at the end of the day, it's not true. And that's what really hurts the most about abuse-most of the time, it's done out of love than malice.

[ramayantika]

Chapter-1 part: The Guard Awake

Balpan

Shyamala is trying on a new saree. The green border on the deep red saree looks lovely on her. She fixes her kumkum between her eyebrows when she hears a sweet gurgling sound by her daughter.

The little bundle of joy, Shankara and Shyamala's Brahmi stood on her chubby little legs, her arms outstretched towards her mother.

Little Brahmi takes a step forward causing Shyamala to excitedly rush to her baby girl. She stands near the door and sits on her knees, her fingers motioning for the little girl to come to her mother.

"My sweet daughter is taking her first steps. Come, come. Come to your mother." Shyamala coos at Brahmi who only laughs and carefully makes her way forward.

Carefully balancing, she takes a few steps ahead. Brahmi's body sways a little and Shyamala crouches near to her daughter in case she falls down. She doesn't.

And with three more steps, Brahmi walks right into her mother's arms.

Shyamala hugs her daughter and kisses her face. Brahmi only smiles and emits a cheerful laughter. Holding her baby at her hip, Shyamala runs to Bharati to tell about her daughter's milestone.

Across the Yamuna, the little dark jewel of Nanda's household totters on his little feet. Yashoda leaves the ropes and hurriedly walks to her son, her fingers snapping excitedly to attract baby Krishna's attention as he walks towards his darling mother's arms.

Nanda who had arrived after visiting the village council quietly stands near the courtyard entrance, silently observing Krishna walking towards his mother.

After Yashoda kisses her son in delight, he enters the courtyard and hugs Yashoda and Krishna. Krishna nuzzles into Nanda's chest and closes his eyes, his little hands curling around his mother's neck.

***

"Today I will tell you about the story of our Yadu prince, our princess and how Vishnu took birth into our world, Brahmi. Listen to me carefully," Shankara says, holding Brahmi's hands as she sits on her father's lap.

"Vishnu? The Vishnu whose idol Maa worships secretly? He is a stone, Baba. How can he take birth. A stone can't be a baby." Brahmi's argument makes Shankara smile. He chuckles and ruffles her hair. "Oh, you are still young to understand. Take it as a story."

Despite being a guard in Kamsa's dark and dreary prison cells, Shankara harboured a talent of story-telling. When Shankar and Shyamala were shy newly-weds, Shankara would often narrate different folk stories and tales from old texts to win Shyamala's heart, affection and trust. A pregnant Shyamala would often ask him to narrate stories from the sacred texts so the would-be born child would be a wise being in the future.

Brahmi listened to her father with wide-eyes as he narrated what happened on that fateful night when God was born. The little girl of five summers could not take in the brutal murders of Krishna's siblings, so he had skipped that detail. He would tell her about those brutalities some other day when his little Brahmi would grow older.

For now, she only had to know that the world's saviour, the protector of Dharma had taken birth, and would soon return to his birthland.

"So this Krishna will come back to our Mathura?" Brahmi asks.

"Indeed, my child. He has to avenge his parents, save Mathura from this tyrant king."

"If our king is evil, then why do you go to work at his palace, Baba?"

A wry smile takes its place on Shankara's lips. He kisses her forehead. "Because, we also need to live. For survival, one also has to bow down to the evil and bad. Everybody cannot be a hero."

Brahmi blinks her large eyes at her father. "But Baba, that night, you did not tell anyone about this boy's birth. You did not tell the king." Pecking her father's cheek, she continues, "You saved God. You are a hero too." Brahmi looks at her discarded doll on the floor. "Oh, Baba, my doll is asking for food. I will come back later for more stories."

Shankara's eyes glistened with tears. Brahmi did not realize the meaning behind her words. Indeed children were manifestations of the divine. Their innocence is untainted by the rigid rules and regulations of society. They are pure.

Shankara looks at Shyamala playing with her doll. He mutters to himself. "Who am I to save God? God saves us. I only performed my duty to my God."

***

Brahmi arrives from her school. Shankara and Shyamala had begun sending her to a nearby priestly couple who taught the scriptures, literature and arithmetic when she turned seven. She huffs and sits inside the kitchen while her mother who had been cooking rice asks, "What happened? Why do you look so cross?"

"I saw a guard misbehaving with a woman. They even slapped her. Her husband stepped in, but they beat him up too and took him to prison. What kind of a king do we have? His soldiers have been given full rights to do anything with the public. The Shastras talk about how a king must behave with proper conduct. But look at that demon king!"

Shyamala makes a hushed sound. "Careful, Brahmi. His men are everywhere now. We cannot speak ill of him."

Brahmi turns her face away. "But this is sheer injustice. A place where a woman is insulted can never prosper."

Shyamala brings two plates. Brahmi angrily serves rice on both the plates--one for her mother and one for herself. Shyamala whispers, "Yes, but he can't even show mercy to his sister. Will such a man care about other women?"

Brahmi moves her finger around the hot rice on her plate. "I wanted to argue. Pranava held my wrist tightly and stopped me."

"It was the right thing to do by him then. You would be thrown into prison. Nobody, not even your Baba could get you out."

"So we keep tolerating this?"

"Yes, until our saviour arrives."

Brahmi gulps her food. "This endless waiting will only bring us ruin. We should first help ourselves and then God will help."

In the beautiful land of Vrindavana that boasts of lush green forests, green pastures and abundant Tulsi plants, Mathura's hero bids farewell to his house, his parents, his friends and his childhood sweetheart.

"I must head towards my karmabhoomi, O people of Vrindavana. Bid me farewell with your blessings instead of your tears."

Brahmi lays on her cot and looks up at the night sky. The moon shines brightly, its gentle moon beams falling over her. Now a young age of fourteen, a little wiser and bolder, Brahmi thinks about the future of her homeland.

A cool wind blows. She hears a knock on her door. Unlocking the latch, she finds her father, smiling at her with exhaustion marring his face. "You didn't sleep, Brahmi?"

"I will go to sleep in a while, Baba. Come in. Maa is waiting for you with hot dinner prepared."

She watches her parents talk with each other as Shankara slowly eats his meal. Brahmi thinks about her childhood conversation with her Baba.

"Baba, will this Krishna be my friend too when he comes back?"

"He is Vishnu. He accepts everyone."

"What did he really vanquish all those demons?"

"Yes, Brahmi. He is supreme strength personified, my child. He is God in a mortal's body.

Brahmi crosses her feet and sighs, her eyes drinking in the beautiful silvery light of the moon. Her mind replays her father's description about Krishna as narrated by Devaki and Vasudeva who heard it from secretly visiting sages and messengers.

She whispers in the dark to the silent confidante, the sparkling moon. "You will be the prince of Mathura like the rightful heir you are. Here everybody sees you as Mathura's saviour, as their protector and the upholder of Dharma. Baba might make me meet you so I may see you as the glorious God in mortal form. He says he has been a witness to your divinity. I haven't. You could be God, true, but in case if you want a friend here, I hope you find me."

Shyamala peers from the window. "Oh, you wild wild girl, come inside. Don't sleep in the open. Bad spirits will come to you and tie that hair."

Brahmi groans and braids her hair.

***

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