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love-killed-the-superstar · 11 months ago

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Yeah... I'm not sure how I'm going to feel about BTTS to be honest. Although iirc Serling comes back with them, so thank god he'll be there to help me through that last difficult season. I could have done without most of s5. My favourite episode was Membership Drive because it was great seeing Nano get a happy ending and Mikey and Leo do another superhero team up with the Justice Force. The fact that it was the only episode NOT focused on the demon subplot...

Good point about Sh'okonabo - at least no one will ever call this guy original. Everything he does has been done more effectively by other villains in past seasons. I liked some of Laird's ideas for what they could have done with him, but ultimately it seems like he wasn't too happy with this guy either lol. Besides all the gross-out humour in that episode, I did find the evil goo episode fun, but oh my GODD the ending made the entire thing feel completely pointless.

Raph needs a hug, Mikey needs some antidepressants, and Leo needs his personality back. Don is the one thriving for once, and he has already been through so much, I won't take that away from him.

All the FF notes I've read from Laird's blog have been about TT2 so I haven't seen this Cody rant yet but omg I'm excited for it because it's a relief to know that everyone working on FF wasn't oblivious to how much he fucked the turtles over???? Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy when watching.

"It would make Cody look bad" GOOD!!!! GOD FORBID THE NEPO BABY HAS TO ANSWER TO HIS MISTAKE THAT HAS COMPLETELY UPROOTED THEIR LIVES, RIGHT???? They say never meet your heroes but how about never meet your fans??? These turtles didn't ask to be hero-worshipped, dumped 100 years in the future with no easy way home, and then forced to live with the person who got them into this mess. It would have been SUPER CATHARTIC to let Raph (or honestly, any of them) tear him a new one. I've been manifesting it in my rewatch and it just never happens!! The one thing that consoles me is knowing that when they returned to the present they left Cody in 2105 without Serling and with every single enemy they didn't manage to defeat because they were saving them for season 2. He is going to be so screwed and I'm living for it.

OH IF YOU DO I AM GOING TO EAT THIS UP. In fact please let me cameo in it. I'll help you Mr Dunn. Together we can end Scrappy Jones once and for all.

(Fun fact that isn't really relevant but I wasn't sure where else to put - Darius, Jammerhead and the Street Phantoms show up in the IDW comics! I haven't read to that point yet, so I can't say if they're anywhere near as cartoonish as they are in FF or if it gave them all a more grounded take. But it fascinated me when I found out that they exist outside of FF, especially Darius without Cody. I'm curious to find out what they did with him when I eventually get there lol. I'm relieved that they left Sh'Okonabo where he belongs, dead and buried.)

I think... highly controversial opinion here... I would have taken a second season of FF over BTTS, just because I feel like the cyber Shredder plot is bullshit, Serling doesn't deserve to get stuck 100 years in the past forever, and there were some fun concepts that I wish they'd explored. In my ideal version of FF2 maybe they realised FF1 fell short in a lot of ways and got their shit together and made a good fucking season as compensation, but I guess we'll never know if they would have improved it or not. If it was the same quality as FF1 I'd be annoyed but I'd probably still watch it. I'm dreading watching BTTS. Zell made me watch that webisode and I still have nightmares about it.

I'd end FF2 with the turtles and splinter returning home (without serling because my man has been through enough) through a time portal, only to find that all of their friends have been awaiting their return (maybe ancient one got a vision or smth) in a surprise party. they get embraced by everyone they have helped and loved along the way, and they sigh and say "it's good to be home". like the wedding but with way less awkwardness to it, and ofc I would give Leo and Usagi their much-desired reunion. Oh, and Klunk gets to be there, because I miss him so much in FF. Cody if you don't include a Klunk memorial shrine in your creepy little turtle museum I swear...

Turtle Titan 2 my beloved!!!!!! The fact that Laird wanted him to be a much bigger character in FF2 makes me so happy. He's one of the few characters/storylines I really, really like from FF, not just for who he is as a person but what he represents - that Mikey's compassion and sense of justice made a difference that has impact 100 years later. But ah well, if FF didn't want to use him more, their loss. He's mine now and I'm going to mold him like clay.

This........... actually never dawned on me until you pointed it out. Holy shit? You're right. Where are all the humans?!?!? My best explanation is maybe NNY is like a 'hub' for alien life on Earth compared to other major cities and countries, and that's why there's a higher alien-to-human ratio. I feel like the street phantoms are human, just using some sort of device that makes them ghostly?? But I could be wrong, I was NOT paying attention lol.

O'Neill Tech controlling so much of NNY is wild, because when you have one company running everything, that is HUGELY RISKY. It also feels like even if Darius wasn't actively trying to murder his nephew to gain control over the business, it's still operating under shady circumstances. Like do we really think April and Don would have wanted this cyberpunk hold on NNY? Personally I don't. I have to wonder if Cody's parents were even shadier than Darius is.

Cody is kept inside for ethical reasons. Darius is protecting the world from Cody, not the other way around.

I've wondered about the rest of the building!!!! Accommodation for O'Neill Tech employees maybe? Or maybe it's informally known as Nepo Baby Buildings to the locals.

My opinion on Serling completely changed once I realised what a NIGHTMARE he was up against. The fact that Splinter was actively participating in creating the mess and making jokes like "no it's not terrible that we trashed your home, it's terrible that my sons didn't catch the plate I just threw at the wall" is INSANE TO ME. WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?!!!! YOU'RE NOT THE HAMATOS I KNOW AND LOVE!!!!!! Serling is the only one calling them out for their obnoxious bullshit so he's where my solidarity lies now.

I actually love the idea that they're doing this to be passive-aggressive. I choose to believe that from now on.

Lastly - yes, what the hell happened to Leo's personality, did it get banished with the demon shredder? You're seriously telling me he wouldn't take this opportunity to take a night class on 16th Century Japanese Swordsmanship now that he is free to walk the streets? He wouldn't still patrol the rooftops for trouble because that's all they've known for so long? He wouldn't dig into what happened to the foot clan in the future, just in case things got bad again?

The shell thing could have had its own episode tbh. Picture this - medical technology has come a long way and during a routine physical for the turtles Cody repairs Leo's shell without even thinking to ask him first. It leads to an unexpected blow-up because even though what happened to him was terrible, having that scar taken from him without permission crossed a line and leads into a big 'this is what I hate about the future, and this is exactly the selfishness that made you strand us here' rant that blindsides everyone. Even Master Splinter doesn't understand. Leo flees and the guys go after him - some drama ensues - he is eventually found after idk fighting the street phantoms or something. Cody realises how much he's hurt Leo and apologises. Leo doesn't even understand himself why he's not happy at his shell being repaired, but it feels like another part of his story has been lost to time now, sanitised and stripped away from him. You have to take the bitter with the sweet.

By the end of the episode Leo makes peace with it but idk, maybe Cody learns to stay in his own fucking lane in future or something.

@love-killed-the-superstar I hope you don’t mind but this particular part of your recent liveblog just… really sparked something in my brain that I need to get out, re: Fast Forward, and it’s this repeating theme of FF rehashing a plot point from S1-4 but worse. Like the turtles version of a live action Disney reboot.

This turned into a massive rant, oops, more under the cut. Clearly, I have a lot of feelings about this.

Keep reading

#somehow this feels even longer than the last time I'M SORRY!!!!

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glittersandsourcherries · 3 years ago

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Home is where the heart is (part 1) | Fezco x Bennett!Reader

Summary: A phone call from an old friend forces you to go home for a bit. Or, Rue goes missing during episode 5

Pairing: Fezco x Bennett!Reader

Word count: 0.9k

Warnings: mention of drugs/overdose

You were studying in your dorm when you got a call from Fezco saying your sister was going through withdrawal and came to his house tonight. He told her he didn't keep things at the house no more, but she snooped and tried to steal medication from his grandma.

''I had to kick her out and now I dunno where she went. She wasn't at my door when I went back to check,'' he said, worry and guilt in his voice. ''I stopped sellin' her shit, but she found them elsewhere.''

Rue wasn't the first drug addict Fez encountered in his life - and won't be the last. His business was thriving because of them. But Rue... He cared about Rue, he loved her like a sister, which was why he was so worried about her. She wasn't business to him, she was family.

''It's okay. You did what was right, Fez. I-I'm gonna call my mom and we'll find her.''

You hung up.

Fuck.

Rue had relapsed.

Flashbacks from the first time she overdosed filled your thoughts. You had been working the late night shift at the diner when your mother had called to inform you of your sister's overdose. She had not said much, just to come to the hospital as soon as possible.

Gia had been the one who found her. She had heard strange noises coming from Rue's bedroom and found her choking on a pool of vomit. It had been a traumatizing experience for a thirteen years old.

You remembered the tears on your sister and mother's faces when you got to the hospital. You remembered seeing Rue laying on a hospital bed in the ICU, unconscious.

You wiped the tears forming in your eyes with the back of your sleeve. Right now was not the time to cry. You had to call your mom.

It was almost 2am when you stepped into your childhood home. The drive to East Highland had been long and worrisome.

You let yourself in using your old key, startling your mom, who had fallen asleep in the rocking-chair, with the rustling of the door.

''Rue? Rue, is that you?''

Your heart ached, wishing it was your sister.

''No, Mom. It's me,'' you said.

Leslie stood and pulled you into a hug, relieved to see you. ''I'm sorry for asking you to come. You must be busy with school-''

''It's okay, Mom,'' you reassured, hugging her back. ''I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.''

''Come. I'll go make some coffee.''

While the coffee was brewing, your mom put you up to date with everything that happened.

''She told Gia she was smoking weed to help with her anxiety, but it was a lie. It wasn't just weed. There was a whole suitcase filled with all kinds of drugs under her bed. How did she even get that? God, I don't know how I didn't see anything...'' Leslie shook her head, guilt filling her.

Last time you had spoken to Rue on the phone, she was doing well. She was attending her NA meetings, claimed to be sober and had fallen in love, but addicts lie. Like she did to Gia, to your mom, to everyone.

''When she found out that the suitcase was missing, she had this withdrawal-induced breakdown and trashed the house. She was...unrecognizable.'' She closed her eyes, the emotions coming back as she retold the story. ''She said hurtful, horrible things. To Gia and me, to Jules and this other boy she goes to school with.''

You covered your mother's hand with yours. ''I'm sure she didn't mean those things.''

''A part of me is mad at her, but I also just want her to come home.''

''Me too.''

Gia woke up an hour after you arrived.

''Y/N.'' She got up from the couch where she had dozed off and smiled for the first time in a long time.

''Gia. Come here.'' You opened your arm and she came right up, hugging you tightly.

Despite the circumstances, you were happy to see your little sister. There was tear stains on her face and her eyes were red from crying, telling you it had been a rough and very emotionally charged day.

You heard nothing from the cops. Like, at all. They must've stopped their searches and gone back to their regular patrolling. You didn't tell your mom that though.

Gia had fallen back asleep - this time in her own bed. You had stayed in her room and brushed her hair until she fell asleep like you used to do when she was younger. She may be a teenager now, but that didn't mean she didn't need her big sister when she was scared or hurt or sad anymore. Tonight, it was all of the above.

She hadn't said anything, but seeing Rue trashing the house had scared her. You noticed how her door had been busted and her room trashed - along with other rooms in the house. That must've been traumatizing for her.

The day was waking when Rue stumbled in the house, scaring the shit out of you.

''Rue?''

Your head snapped in direction of the door and there she was, you little sister, barely standing in her feet. Her hair was a mess, as would anyone who spend the night running around town, and was wearing clothes that clearly wasn't hers. She seemed to be in some sort of pain as she was clutching her stomach and struggling to stand on one of her feet.

She didn't say anything. She just looked at you, silently asking for help.

You rushed to her, but her body gave out before you could give her support.

''Rue!''

Tag-list: @milkiane

Fezco tag-list: @runway-to-my-aid

#fezco #fezco imagine #fezco x reader #fezco euphoria #euphoria #euphoria fic #euphoria imagine

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diavolosthots · 4 years ago

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Hey dear! I hope that you have a good time! I want to make a request, but please delete it if you don't feel like doing it.

I saved that request in the notes and been waiting for you to open them 😊

For request

First fight with brother (any of your choice) and one of them (I mean MC or that brother) thinks that it's end of relationship (because never had anything serious), but they reconciled in the end. I want some heavy angst with happy ending. MC can be GN if that is OK.

If you don't mind you can do for Mammon, but feel free to choose another one if you don't feel like write for him. Or if that would be better to write as headcanons for all the brothers. That's up to you!

I haven't been doing requests for ages. Please don't hate me if there is something wrong! I've read the rules, and I hope I haven't missed anything.

Anyway, sorry for long ask. And thank you for your writings!

(I forgot to look if you did anything similar, and remembered it at the end of writing that ask. Sorry if you already did something like that!)

Hey babes ❤ I did end up doing HCs for all of them because I thought it would be cooler (or more like I know someone is gonna request separate fics for all of them if I dont and I'm saving myself that trouble lol) I still hope you like it ! ❤ also this got SUPER LONG so its under a cut

Warning: angst -> happy ending-ish

THE BROTHERS in a fight with MC and thinking that they’re over (yikes)

Lucifer:

Everyone always says Lucifer is quick to lose his cool but he’s honestly been nothing but patient with you. He may have hinted at several things he doesn’t condone and he definitely has that ‘look’, you know the disappointed dad look, but he has held back a lot so as to not ruin the beautiful relationship you have with him. Everyone snaps, though, and when he finally did, it was ugly. He did NOT call you names, but oh he didn’t. He went straight for your feelings and pointed out every mistake you ever made for as long as he’s known you. Ouch. In his defense, you weren’t nice either. The argument ended nasty and ‘I hate you’s!’ were definitely thrown around, but none of them were meant, right? Goodness, he doesn’t know. After you left, he threw himself on his bed, literally, and just stared at the ceiling. His anger slowly fled away and he began to feel… guilty. Not necessarily because of the argument itself, but because he delivered some low blows and he knows that. Are you over? Done with him? You haven’t texted or called or talked… you’ve been actively avoiding him and he doesn’t like that, but his pride is such an issue, goodness. He can’t straight up apologize, that dickhead, but he’s sending you flowers and standing in front of your door with a sad face that says it all.

“Forgive me? I made reservations at your favorite’s? We can talk over a nice dinner?”

Mammon:

Mammon is known to get mildly agitated over the silliest things, let’s be real. He’s also quick to revert to the “are you dumb?!” argument, which is never effective. But he loves you and he would do anything for you so even if you do do something that he deems ‘dumb’, he usually bites his tongue. Doesn’t mean that doesn’t get on his nerves, though, and he definitely has a short temper, although people tend to overlook that. You just managed to push his buttons today and he used the “are ya stupid?!” argument, to which you obviously defended yourself, and rightfully so. This ended in a massive screaming match and him saying “Then leave! Ain’t nobody keepin’ ya with me!” He regretted it the minute those words left his mouth and you could see his eyes grow wide in shock at his own words, but that didn’t mean you stayed. “MC!” he tried running after you immediately but you were faster and honestly, who can blame you? He fucked up, and he knows it, and he feels terrible about it. Honestly, he’s crying just at the mere thought of you taking his words seriously and he can’t… he can’t bear to lose you, you know? What’s he gonna do? You’re the light of his life, as pathetic as that may sound to some…. So he won’t let you run away. Homie will hunt you down and beg for forgiveness.

“Please, MC! Forgive me! I’m dumb, not you!!! Don’t leave me…” Don’t leave him. He will continue crying.

Leviathan:

His constant need to put himself down is frankly, quite annoying. To you anyway. But you put up with it and just reassure him that, at least to you, he’s the most amazing demon that ever existed. It’s just facts. But a person only has so much patience, right? You can’t always spend your days trying to lift him up when all he does is dig himself a bigger hole. Who has the emotional time for that? You sure don’t. “Oh my God, Levi! Shut up! I can’t take it anymore!” Followed by “See! You’re just like everyone else! Leaving me!” and then you slamming the door to his room shut. It’s frustrating and understandably so. It makes you feel awful that you can’t even make your own boyfriend feel good about himself and get at least a little bit of self confidence and it’s so, so, so very draining to have to constantly listen to that. At this point, it’s affecting your own mental health and you just… you just can’t…. But Levi can’t lose you because he knows you’re right. He has to work on himself if he wants to keep someone as amazing as you with him and that’s why he’s crawling back to you now.

“Look I… I know you’re right… I’m sorry. I promise I’ll … I’ll try. For you.”

Satan:

For being the Avatar of Wrath, you always admired Satan for his ability to keep cool. He prefers the relaxed and easy going life much more than the type of life people expect him to live, and you respect that. That doesn’t mean his constant need to one up Lucifer, through whatever means necessary, didn’t bother the hell out of you, though. You tried talking to him about it once or twice in a calm manner, but you always got the same answer “Pfft.. it’s Lucifer. Who cares?” And it never sat right with you. Just today he decided to pull a prank on the eldest and you had enough, standing in front of Lucifer and letting the bucket of cursed green slime land on you instead, to everyone’s shock. “What are you doing?!” Now that you’re thoroughly green from head to toe, you were also beyond pissed. “What am I doing?! What are YOU doing?!” But Satan matched your anger tenfold, accusing you of favoring Lucifer over him and oh! “You probably got an affair with him, too!” Which was a stupid thing on his part, but it looked like it the way you defended him. Anger doesn’t even begin to describe the emotion you felt running through you and had it not been for Lucifer, you probably would’ve physically fought Satan for such a dumb accusation. Lucifer took you to get cleaned up and lifted the course, giving you your natural skin and hair color back within a few days and plenty of scrubbing, and Satan felt like shit. You’ve always been there for him and, rationally speaking, he didn’t have a reason to doubt your loyalty to him, but he just can’t help but feel insecure beside Lucifer…. He decides to come apologize anyway, a deep blush on his face and guilt in his eyes

“I’m… sorry for accusing you. It wasn’t my right to speak out of anger and jealousy…”

Asmodeus:

How can anyone fight with the Avatar of Lust? Seriously, the guy is super easy going and he loves pretty much everyone. Not as much as himself, but almost. You on the other hand… you didn’t. Well you didn’t NOT love him or yourself, but you were just… you. You didn’t spend 4+ hours in the bathroom trying to get ready when you knew you were only going to the kitchen down the stairs. Like?? Although you never brought it up to Asmodeus, he constantly bothered you about skincare and what foods to eat and what not to eat, etc… It’s quite annoying, honestly, and at some point you just gave him a passive aggressive “Okay, whatever. Can we move on now?” To which he didn’t take lightly. He was still nice and sweet, trying to convince you that at least one of these things will make your skin glow brighter than a unicorn’s ass but you just had enough. “Can you stop?! You’re indirectly saying I’m ugly without that shit ton of product in my face and a diet that would make me starve before it helped me! If you want a skinny VS angel that barely holds onto their skeleton, get one!” It was more hurt and frustration speaking than anything, but your outburst still shocked him and he was taken aback for a moment. And then you ignored him for a week straight and as someone who thrives off of attention, especially the kind he gets from you, he can’t handle that! So he showed up in your room in sweats and a tshirt and messy hair and no product on his skin.

“You’re right… we’re all naturally beautiful…. Wow that… that really hurts to say MC but can you forgive me?”

Beelzebub:

Oh the sweet, sweet angel. He’s far from innocent and you know that. We all know that. But for this story, I will give him the benefit of the doubt. His reliance on Belphegor is just really… annoying. Belphegor this, Belphegor that. “Belphie used to…” or “Belphie said….” or “one day when Belphie and I….” Like why does everything have to include his twin? It’s so annoying and so rude when your significant other is right here !!! and planning their own future with you, Beel, thanks. It makes you feel less than and like Belphegor will always come before you. It makes you feel like shit, quite frankly, and who is to blame you? “Hey MC did I tell you what Belphie---!” “No! Shut up! I don’t care! It’s always about Belphie! The day you come to me and don’t let that name drip from your tongue is the day Jesus comes back to save me and we both know that will be never! I’m tired of always being stuck with Belphegor! We are not equals!” Granted, you shouldn’t have yelled and Beel was more than confused at your outburst, but you wouldn’t talk to him anymore after that so he left you alone. He thought you may need an hour or two, maybe a day tops, but that day turned into a full week and he even lost his appetite just because he knows you’re angry with him. It’s been a week, does that mean you’re over? His heart aches just at the thought…

“I’m sorry for bringing Belphie up… I don’t want you to feel less than, MC. You mean a lot to me and so does Belphie, but you’re not Belphie and I need to learn that…”

Belphegor:

Honestly it’s a miracle he hasn’t lost his temper at you yet. Well, he partially blames it on his own laziness because if being angry or getting upset didn’t take so much energy out of him, maybe he would’ve snapped by now lol, but he tries really hard not to because he thinks your relationship with him after everything is pretty good, considering yall kiss and snuggle and fuck on a regular basis. But anyway, that’s exactly the issue. Considering everything, you’re still holding *that* against him. It’s never direct either, which makes it worse. It’s always said in a joking manner and something like “haha look it’s just like that one time you killed me” or “Beel’s grabbing that ham like you grabbed my throat” or “I remember seeing jesus for a moment there” and it agitates him. It makes him so angry, and he finally snapped. “I know I fucked up MC! Stop holding it against me! What do you want? A medal of honor? A survivor's certificate? Maybe a pat on the back for developing some sort of Stockholm syndrome that made you come back to your abuser?!” And then he left. And you may have cried both from confusion and your own anger, he isn’t quite sure. It’s just so…. Aggravating. He can’t deal with it. He knows it was a mistake spurted by his own insecurities and survivor’s guilt which ultimately led to his hatred but please, stop holding it against him.. He can’t keep putting up with it from the person he’s grown to love. He’s the one ignoring you and he won’t budge either because he’s a stubborn ass, but maybe if you come up first…

“I’m sorry for yelling at you… I’m just so tired for it being held against me… I love you, and you should know that, and I do feel guilty about what happened.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #cheys headcanons #asmodeus obey me #belphegor obey me #mammon obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #tw angst

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goodnightmemes · 3 years ago

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DEXTER SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS (PART TWO)

Lines taken from 2x07-2x12 of the show Dexter. Feel free to change pronouns or edit in any way to better fit your needs. Here is part one.

❛ I thrive on chaos. But this is good, too. ❜

❛ I had to do a little creative problem-solving at someone else's expense. ❜

❛ Pardon my tits. ❜

❛ Are you trying to fuck her or set her on fire? ❜

❛ Sometimes the truth speaks from a peaceful place. It's taken me a long time to find that place, but I think I have, and it's telling me you're not the right one for me. I'm so sorry. ❜

❛ Is that what I am? Clean? 'cause I don't feel that way at all. ❜

❛ No, I won't do that. I won't let you turn me into you. ❜

❛ Hope you don't expect me to comment on that so you can record it on your hidden tape recorder. I wasn't born yesterday. ❜

❛ Your past is a bigger mystery than fucking Jimmy Hoffa. ❜

❛ No matter what you try, no matter when, no matter how hard you work, I'll always be a step ahead of you for one simple reason. I own you. ❜

❛ When I'm alone and it's quiet, I get scared shitless, like I start hearing what's really going on inside. ❜

❛ 'Cause when you're around, I kind of feel like I can deal with anything, you know? ❜

❛ I've always worked best in the shadows, and that's where I have to stay. ❜

❛ You can't go back. You know that. ❜

❛ You are not allowed to talk about anyone I date as long as you're seeing little Miss "pardon my tits." ❜

❛ She is obviously a vampire. A gross english-titty vampire. ❜

❛ Can't change who I am. I'm crass and dirty, and...I have a very filthy mind. ❜

❛ Jesus Christ. They sell anyone a gun in Florida, won't they? ❜

❛ That man. He wasn't trying to rob you. He was trying to kill you. ❜

❛ Nothing you could do,___, would scare me. ❜

❛ Whatever comes, we'll get through this together. I'm not leaving your side. ❜

❛ I need to embrace who I am, who I've always been. ❜

❛ It's like I've been living underwater, holding my breath, and now I can finally breathe. ❜

❛ ___ almost had me believing it was possible to change, to become something else, as if that ever really happens. I've always known what I am. ❜

❛ I'm finding it's best to accept things you can't change, you know? ❜

❛ Is this the monster that you keep telling me about? ❜

❛ Trust me, when you meet the monster, you'll know. ❜

❛ Nice. My subconscious isn't even bothering with symbolism. ❜

❛ I feel...such regret, which is rare for me. But not that I don't mess up. I do...just never so stupendously. ❜

❛ If they're looking for proof, they won't find it. Not here at least. ❜

❛ Then maybe you should come with us, because who knows what secrets will come ❜ pouring out of me once the drinks start flowing. ❜

❛ I'm done with it and you. Did I not make that clear last night? ❜

❛ Those friends of yours, they didn't even know you. They just see the mask, but I see it all. ❜

❛ Can't live with her. Can't kill her. ❜

❛ Fuck! I'm talking about my feelings. What the fuck is your problem? ❜

❛ I've always sensed there was something... off about him. Like he's hiding in plain sight. ❜

❛ If you got in the middle of this and you got hurt… ❜

❛ The only way I can help you is if you turn yourself in. ❜

❛ Don't you disappear on me. ❜

❛ I want you to know that you meant a lot to me, more than you know, and... I just want to thank you for that. ❜

❛ If I never see her again, it'll be too soon. ❜

❛ Sleep would be nice, but there's too much to do. ❜

❛ Okay, I may be sleeping with him, but it doesn't mean he tells me shit or listens to me about anything, so stop asking! ❜

❛ That's right, motherfucker! It's over. ❜

❛ I knew there was something with you. But this shit? ❜

❛ What can I say? You were right about me. I never held it against you. I don't now. ❜

❛ It's a graze wound. Minor tissue abrasion. No hemorrhage along the bullet track. Sorry. I think I'm gonna live. ❜

❛ If you're not gonna let me go, then kill me now. Just get it over with. ❜

❛ You're a killer. I catch killers. ❜

❛ So it's okay to take a life as long as you get a paycheck for it? ❜

❛ Either kill me or set me free. ❜

❛ Taking a life is one thing, but the care and feeding of it is another. ❜

❛ I'm generally confused most of the time. ❜

❛ You ever care about anyone? Then you shouldn't have to ask. 'Cause when you care about someone, you do what you have to do. ❜

❛ I remember when life was easy, when the only question I worried about was "who's next?" Now it's: "How can I dodge my protective detail? "What should I do with my hostage?" These are not easy questions. ❜

❛ It's not about what I think. It's all about the evidence. ❜

❛ Hair-pulling may not be manly, but it's very effective. ❜

❛ If he wanted me dead, I'd be dead by now. ❜

❛ You are the only one I can count on, jackass. ❜

❛ It puts a pit in my stomach that I can only interpret as... sadness. ❜

❛ You working on an exit strategy? I'm afraid that's not gonna happen. ❜

❛ How come there's never a circus when you need one? ❜

❛ What was that shit last night? Some kind of fucking scare tactic? ❜

❛ Don't test me. I could have killed you. I didn't. ❜

❛ You're actually angry. I've never seen you angry. This is good. ❜

❛ I should warn you. You can't play on my feelings. I don't have any. ❜

❛ It's a tough job. It can wear on even the best of us. ❜

❛ I yell a lot...and bitch and complain, and I keep expecting people to guess what I want, but I never really say it. ❜

❛ And that was exciting, you know? The not knowing. What might happen, what could be. It was all possibility. ❜

❛ Your life is going to rest in the hands of the criminal justice system you put all your faith in. I wish you the best of luck. ❜

❛ You need help. Let me help you. ❜

❛ You don't have to do this! You don't have to kill this man! ❜

❛ Sorry it had to go down like this. But there really was no other way. ❜

❛ Stay away. Just stay away from me. ❜

❛ Did you happen to be stuffing a human leg into a garbage bag at that point? ❜

❛ There's that anger again. You got to let that out. ❜

❛ You're spinning. Let me help you. It's only a matter of time before you'll hurt someone else. ❜

❛ Take responsibility for who you are. ❜

❛ Why can't you just let me go? ❜

❛ If I got to choose a person... A real person... to be like, out of anyone, it'd be you. ❜

❛ Who joined who in the shower this morning? ❜

❛ For such a neat monster, I'm making an awfully big mess. ❜

❛ Maybe this is how evil works. Destroying everything it touches. ❜

❛ I've been held prisoner in a cabin for two fucking days. Fucking hellhole. ❜

❛ After everything we've been through lately, I just want... to be together with you guys. ❜

❛ You told me to take responsibility for what I am. You were right. ❜

❛ I can't live in this house of cards anymore, waiting for it all to fall down. I need to do something, you know? ❜

❛ If I do this, I need a day to get my affairs in order. ❜

❛ Mention that when they interview you for the story of my life. ❜

❛ Don't leave me in this cage, anything could happen. ❜

❛ I lie to everyone I know... except my victims right before I kill them. It's hard to establish much of a rapport there. ❜

❛ Sorry about the cage. ❜

❛ I've always been curious to try. Do you have any weed? ❜

❛ Love's a battlefield. Or in your case, a restraining order. ❜

❛ When a pretty girl smiles and bats her eyelashes, we're powerless to resist. ❜

❛ I met with a lawyer yesterday. He helped me prepare a living trust that gives you control of all my assets in the event of my death or... certain other situations. ❜

❛ God. Go away. This is creepy. ❜

❛ I'm free tonight, you wanna stop by? We'll have beer, a couple of steaks? I wanna talk to you about something. ❜

❛ I just need you to know that... you and the kids are very important to me. No matter what happens, I want you to always know that. ❜

❛ I know I've been taking things slow with us, but it's not because I don't have feelings for you. It's more like I have too many feelings, and I just wanna make sure to get it right. ❜

❛ I want you gone. Tonight. ❜

❛ I've spent a lifetime keeping up my guard, watching my back, wearing my mask. Relief was never in sight until now. ❜

❛ Lately, I was starting to feel like I had my head pretty far up my ass. ❜

❛ You decide who you are, who you want to be...and you hold onto that and ride it out. ❜

❛ I need some help! Just open the door! I'm being held captive. ❜

❛ Damn, it's good to see another face. I never thought I would. ❜

❛ When something beyond reason happens, it turns skeptics into believers. ❜

❛ If you believe that God makes miracles, you have to wonder if Satan has a few up his sleeve. ❜

❛ I can't exactly feel their pain, but I can appreciate it. ❜

❛ I kinda forgot who I was. I got it straight now. ❜

❛ The term is homicidal maniac. Not that I'm judging. ❜

❛ A public place. You thought I was gonna...That I would slip my needle into your neck? ❜

❛ You're afraid of me now, aren't you? ❜

❛ You're emotionally color-blind. You use the right words, you pantomime the right behavior, but feelings never come to pass. ❜

❛ You know the dictionary definition of emotions: longing, joy, sorrow...You have no idea of what any of those things actually feel like. ❜

❛ I created a monster of my own. ❜

❛ What did you do to make her so pathetically crazy for you? Does your dick dance? ❜

❛ What're we doing home in the middle of the day? She asked, hoping for sex. ❜

❛ Why? Why do I have to make up my mind? ❜

❛ I've never put much weight onto the idea of a higher power. But if I didn't know better, I'd have to believe that some force out there wants me to keep doing what I'm doing. ❜

❛ As it turns out, nobody mourns the wicked. ❜

❛ Am I evil? Am I good? I'm done asking those questions. I don't have the answers. ❜

#sentence starters #sentence meme #rp meme #inbox meme #ask meme #rp memes #*tv #*dexter #*mine

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clouds-rambles · 4 years ago

Note

Is it alright if i req hcs of kaeya, diluc, zhongli finding out they have a vampire s/o and they have all these cool vampire abilities and can be a bat and etc? Thanks 😊

Vampires go brr is all I say

Requests are back open! I’m planning that nth-hundred special thing soon but for the time being I’ll take more requests <3

Pairings; (Seperate) Kaeya, Diluc, and Zhonglii x reader

Warning(s); no explicity nsfw just mentions

Keep reading under the cut!

Kaeya

Man if he wasn’t already whipped for you the added fact of you’re a vampire is so cool to him. If it’s not a secret he’s definitely like “check out my s/o everyone rn, okay, do the bat thing”

Hickeys are interesting and Kaeya is far too down bad for it. He loves the feeling of your fangs literally anywhere on his body

He also loves the feeling of your fangs brushing up against his lips

If you turn into other animals Kaeya is just there like ‘holy shid my s/o right now’

Yelling ‘down bad’ at Kaeya is just apart of your common lingo at this point

Thanks to your aversion to sunlight midnight exhibitions and explorations are the best thing to Kaeya

He wants to know everything you can do and will likely test your limits

If you’re the floaty kind of vampire Kaeya loves being held in the air

If you’re the kind of vampire that can turn into mist please prank him when he goes into a hug, it’ll be funny to watch him eat shit

Give him a kiss after though. It doesn’t matter how funny it is just remind the man you love him

If you’re particularly older than him expect him to ask what certain aspects of the past really are true and what’s just made up to keep the calm

Do you still pray to the god of your homeland, be it Barbatos or any other. If not why?

How were you turned? Were you born a vampire? Were you born in Teyvat or Khaenri'ah? If you’re from Khaenri'ah was it before or after the gods betrayed the people?

If you’re as secretive as Kaeya it’s interesting to see how much you can reveal while he continues to keep his cards to his chest

Diluc

He has to be sure you’re not a threat to Mondstat before he even thinks about forming a platonic relationship with you, let alone a romantic one

Diluc isn’t sure what attracts you to him, probably the thrill of danger. The act of placing his life into a person who could snap him like a twig

Every brush or your fangs or scratch of your nails is a reminder of his fragility compared to your superior strength.

He’s into it way more than he’d like to admit and you know it.

Your days are often spent sleeping, and usually Diluc will sleep the mornings with you sleeping, afternoons and evenings are strictly business time to him

If you help out with his Darknight Hero rounds he’s more than happy to have you about. And he loves seeing your raw power tear through Abyss Mages forcefields quicker than he can with his vision

It’s funny watching Diluc skirt about questions about your past, especially once you’re in a relationship. Though unlike other vampires, you’re more open to sharing your secrets with Diluc than others.

Diluc being a secretive person himself doesn’t speak of your own vampiric abilities

Diluc is the original hypeman in the shadows. Anything you do is immediately met with praise, especially when it comes to your vampiric abilities;

Turn into a bat or other animal mid battle to move the battle to your advantage after he’ll just tell you how cool the move was

Turn into mist to fuck with the abyss mages like they do everyone else? Hell yeah payback bitch

Teleport into an abyss mages forcefield to take em down? Number 1 hype man right here

Diluc will compliment you on all the cool things you did on the walk back to the winery and man seeing his face light up his the best thing

You can guess this is what he was like before his fathers death, this cheery smiley man. It’s a shame you don’t get to see it more

Zhongli

Zhongli knew there was something different about you, something not human and once he finds out about your vampiric status everything kind of melds together. The reason why you are never seen on lovely bright days

Though the fact you’re seen at all during the day is something to behold actually and the first question to leave Zhongli’s mouth is ‘why can you go outside during the day?’

You explain that you’re a particularly old and strong vampire, rivalling some of the youngest gods in age. You had once had a coven but many of it’s members but your kind had been hunted to near extinction by archon loyalists who saw you all as blasphemous

Sitting at the table with other historians is always so much fun for both of you, especially with your contradicting opinions on the geo archon. Though your opinions aren’t necessarily bad but it’s more like you see them in a different light considering your age and knowledge of the world

Zhongli enjoys talking to you about divinity. So much so that you think that Zhongli is constantly dropping hints that he is the Geo Archon himself

You don’t question him but instead drop hints back at him that you know, small things that makes him question internally about it.

Its not often you or Zhongli go about fighting, the two of you much prefer to sit, drink tea and have a good chatter

Though the centuries of battling shows when the both of you are thrown into battle, you often bounce off of each other with ease. And with the added flare of your shapeshifting abilities your enemies will always perish

Around Liyue Harbour both you and Zhongli are friendly with the kids, often treating them to popsicles or games of tag and hide and seek. Despite the fact that the two of you don’t look a day over 30 many of the children give you sweet nicknames with any kind of relation to grandparents

The other vampires you have left you will visit often, usually when Zhongli is visiting his adepti. Seeing your children thrive in all corners of Teyvat without the security of a nest of vampires is admirable. Its no wonder they have survived this long

While you’re not as lively as the younger vampires both you and Zhongli cause your fair bit of trouble and have the most fun you can possibly can have

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin kaeya #genshin diluc #genshin zhongli #zhongli #kaeya #diluc

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perksofhs · 4 years ago

Text

‘I think that might be the sexiest thing you have ever said to me’

This was requested literally a year ago, I hope I did the prompt justice! Also it sort of goes along with ‘Please forgive me, I need you baby’, kind of like a prequel! xx

(Warnings: smut and mature content but also some fluff too, minors DNI)

You hated going to parties, Harry thrived in those kinds of setting, you however did not. You’d spent most parties by Harry’s side, admiring his ability to talk to anyone like they’re old friends, never shy or embarrassed not matter the topic of discussion. You admired that about him, his outgoing personality balanced your somewhat introverted one.

You’d been at the party for an hour or so, and if you were honest, you weren’t really sure whose party it actually was, but either way you were there, milling about with a few acquaintances, Harry carrying the conversation as usual. You take another sip of the quite large glass of red in your hand, scanning the room as it filled with more and more people, trying to pick out anyone familiar when your eyes landed on the last person you wanted to see, Mel. Mel was a ‘friend’ of Harry’s, but it was abundantly clear to anyone who watched them interact that she wanted Harry and Harry was oblivious.

Whenever they hung out she was always touching him in any way she could, an exaggerated laugh that ended in her hand playfully swatting at his chest, or her touching his bicep as she spoke to him. It was obvious that she was flirting, and it pissed you off every time you were witness to her behaviour. After all, Harry was yours. You trusted him fully, but Harry’s biggest flaw was undoubtedly his ability to see the best in everyone whilst completely missing large red flags.

Mel caught you staring, faking a smile before sauntering over to the two of you. “Harry!” she chirped, completely ignoring you, Harry turning and greeting her with a big smile. “Hey Mel! I didn’t know you were coming!” “You know I never turn down a good party” she says, giving Harry a hug that lasted longer than you would like. Mel turns to you, another fake smile thrown your way “Oh hey I didn’t even see you there! How are you?” she says, her voice sickly sweet. You attempt to force a somewhat believable smile before responding with a “Yeah good thank you”, Mel already focussing her attention back on Harry before you could finish your sentence. For the next 45 minutes she dominated the conversation, the acquaintances involved people slowly but surely wandering away until it was just the three of you left, and by then you had downed two more large glasses of red and were well and truly tipsy.

On top of being borderline drunk you were more than a little angry, you were filthy, seething even. Mel had gotten on every last one of your nerves and then some. Your heart was racing as Mel continued to carry on about something stupid probablym you really couldn’t focus on anything but how much you couldn’t stand her. “So Harry, I’m planning on heading to Malibu next weekend, do you want to tag along?” Mel says completely ignoring you in these plans of course. “I mean we’re no-” “Sorry Mel we’ve got plans, remember baby?” You say confidently, taking Harry by surprise as you cut him off. “Come on Harry I was planning on hitting up that vintage shop you love” Mel says boldly. “Sorry Mel did you not hear me? We have plans and they don’t include you” you spit back, Harry remaining quiet not daring to show how much he was loving this side of you. You could tell Mel was pissed but trying to cover it up, “Alrighty then, I’m gonna go get another drink” she says, walking away in a huff. “Baby you ok?” Harry says, turning to face you. “No Harry she’s ridiculous! She just tried to invite you on a weekend away with her! Who the fuck does she think she is?” You were pissed and Harry was turned on. “Don’t worry about it, I’d never go, although I do like that vintage shop” he joked, leaning to kiss your forehead.

Your mind was spinning, which may have been the alcohol, but you needed to show Mel that you weren’t intimidated by her. Suddenly you grab Harry’s hand, pulling him up the stairs of whoever’s house this was and into the first bedroom you find, closing the door behind you before pushing him up against the wall. Harry looked at you slightly shocked as to what was happening “what are yo-” you cut him off with a kiss, the anger and alcohol surging through your veins. You fisted his hair, deepening the kiss before dragging your hands over his chest, down his torso and eagerly fiddling with the buttons on his pants as he pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere else in the room along with his pants. Harry wrapped his arms around your waist lifting you up as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso, your lips remained on his as he carried you to the bed, throwing you down before hastily pulling your pants down your legs. “I don’t know what has gotten into you but I fucking love it” Harry says, tearing his shirt off and taking you in for a moment before leaning down trail kisses down your collar bone, his hand finding your inner thigh. You writhe at his touch, knowing exactly what he was about to do. He takes his time gently tugging your underwear down before positioning himself over you, placing his lips back on yours. This was all too slow for you; you were hot and needy, and you couldn’t wait any longer. You reached down, hastily tugging his briefs down, before grazing your fingers along him, feeling him grow harder and harder as you reach the tip. You knew it sent him wild. “Stop” he moans, firmly grabbing both of your hands and putting them above your head, holding them in place with one hand, the other trailing along your belly and down to where you so desperately needed him. His fingertips finally reach the sensitive skin, rubbing achingly slow circles with his thumb and forefinger, a moan leaving your lips as the motions quicken. “Harry please” you beg, bucking your hips up, needing him. Harry obliged releasing your hands, lining up, giving himself two pumps before crashing his lips back on yours as he pushed himself in. You feel yourself stretch around him; the first movement slow to allow you to adjust before he quickened his pace. You take a sharp breath as you feel him go deeper and deeper with every thrust. Your legs wrap around his back, needing him to go even deeper. Your breath quickens along with his, a string of uncontrollable moans leaving your mouth. The anger from the night was slowly dissipating as the two of you got lost in each other.

Your fingers gripped his shoulders tighter as the two of you began to hit your peaks. Just as you were nearly there, the tingle in your toes already building, the door creaks open followed by the sounds of heels and an unbearably whiny voice called out ‘Harry? Harry hun are you in here?’. You knew who it was before she even opened her mouth, but you didn’t let it stop you. Harry’s head snapped up, disconnecting his lips from your neck ‘For fucks sake Mel don’t you knock? Fuck off!’ a smirk growing on your lips the second the words left his mouth. Mel looked like a deer in headlights, you swear you see her knees almost buckle at the site of you as her cheeks grew more red by the second ‘I fuck- uh I’m sorry, shit I’ll j-, I’ll just leave’ she said in an absolute panic as she tried to avert her eyes but you weren’t trying to avoid her gaze, instead something spurred you on, wanting to really make crystal fucking clear that he was your, not hers. You ground your hips harder against Harry’s, he hadn’t dared to stop throughout this whole ordeal as he was desperately close to hitting his climax. You moaned his name loud enough for Mel to hear as she scrambled her way out of the room. The door slammed shut and you bit your lip, allowing yourself a small moment of victory before turning your full attention back to the man between your legs. ‘She’s gone baby, now finish me’ you whispered in Harry’s ear, eliciting an almost pornographic moan from his lips as he quickened his pace, reaching down to rub your sensitive bud, wanting to push the both of you over the edge so badly. The second his ring-clad fingers touch you you’re gone, the tingle starting in your toes as the coil tightened in your belly, ‘baby, I’m near- fffuck, nearly ther-oh god’ you moaned as the coil snapped and you lose it, hitting your peak. Your toes curled, fingers digging into Harrys broad shoulders as you rode out your intense orgasm. Harry continued to thrust deep into you, becoming just slightly sloppier, relishing in the moment as he’s finally pushed over the edge as well ‘shit you’re so fucking good baby, so fucking good’ he panted as he came, taking you in as he started to come down off his high. Allowing his body to collapse atop of yours, Harrys lips found your jaw once more, placing wet kisses on your jawbone. “God love you so fucking much” he says taking a moment to rest his head on your chest, a giddy smile on his face, “I love you too baby” you said, placing a kiss on the top of his just slightly sweaty forehead.

“I was going to suggest that we go back out to the party but If I’m being totally honest, all I want to do is go home and do this all over again, what do you say?” Harry says, shifting from his position up onto his feet, reaching a hand out to pull you with him. “I think that might be the sexiest thing you have ever said to me” you teased, stealing one last kiss before the two of you got dressed and made your way back out to the bustling party hand-in hand. It was obvious to anyone who saw you what had just transpired, but you couldn’t care less what any of these strangers thought. You walked back into the main living area, to collect your things, immediately spotting Mel standing rather awkwardly with a group of people, trying to ignore your smug look. Harry led you through the room, waving a few quick goodbyes as you made your way out of the house and into the waiting Uber. You knew that Harry, being the kind person he is, would eventually apologise to Mel for everything but that didn’t put a damper on your victory because all that mattered was she finally knew that Harry was yours, and only yours. You’d won and god did it feel fucking good.

Hi lovelies, this was requested pretty much a year ago but my goodness I’ve been through so much in this last year that I haven’t had much time to write. I hope you enjoy reading this little piece, I surely enjoyed writing it! If you have any requests just let me know. All the love, E xxx

#harry x reader #harru styles imagine #imagine harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #hary styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry fic #imagine harry #harry smut #harry x fem!reader #one direction #harry edward styles #harry styles smut fanfic

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faerienextdoor · 4 years ago

Text

pastas and your insecurities

tw: i think depictions/descriptions of stretch marks may trigger some people! and mentions of scars, but no specification

Brian, cellulite and stretchmarks:

- he is a gentle himbo soul. He calls your stretch marks your lovemarks and lightning bolts.

- he loves the bumps and grooves on the back of your comfy thighs. thighs he's constantly found himself resting his head in when his head rumbled and ached from a migraine.

- you're a gift to him and the world.

- and he wants you to feel like you're perfect. because you are, to him.

- during cuddle time, he rests his head on your tummy, snuggled between your thighs.

- he'll lift your shirt and kiss the marks that travel up your tummy, and smile at you as his kisses tickle your soft skin

- "have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"

- he asks that so innocently and with so much sincerity. it can melt the hardest of asses.

- he is your personal hype man! If you wear something you usually wouldn't, he'd stop to stare for a while at first

- then breaks out in a giant happy grin, and pulls you into him.

- grabs your hand, and spins you around.

- all that shit. so he can get a good look at you

- kisses the crown of your head gently

- "how did I ever get so lucky?"

jeff, and scars:

- his initial reaction is to laugh off your insecurities

- he's used to joking around what he hated about himself and knows he doesn't want anyone delving in, and finds it more comforting for them to laugh it off with him

- but the laughter dies down and the smiling bastard is frowning at you now

- he knows what it's like to hate your scars. He's picked and tried to scrape off his own burnt flesh, and made them worse in the bed.

- "what the fuck are you on about? c'mere"

- he aggressively loves you. He doesn't want you to feel like how he feels about himself.

- he'll kiss any patch of scarred skin he has permission to and can get to. even if it's an awkward place, his thin lips are pressing his love to them.

- "beautiful. gorgeous. handsome. I could never get enough of you"

- he mutters compliments to you and holds you, pressing his face into the curve of your neck. he breathes in your smell and let's it out in a soft sigh

- "never talk bullshit about yourself again, you got it?"

- he won't take any of your negativity from then on out

- in his eyes: he's the only one who can tease you

Tim, stretch marks and thighs:

- he's a big dude himself. and in the best, most pleasant way.

- he has muscle + fat. a good mix that has made him the best cuddle buddy

- you've told him yourself. So why do you put yourself down for what you love about him?

- he loves how cats can curl so happily on your sun soaked lap in middle of summer

- he loves your beautiful marks, and finds them to be so unique and beautiful on you

- the deep grooves he can't keep his hands away from when you're cuddled (skin to skin, or with very little clothes)

- he looks you in the eyes and gently tells you how you make him feel

- "you make me the happiest I've been in... a long time."

- Masky loves your form too. He loves how it looks in tims shirts or a tight fitting outfit.

- masky rests his heavy head in your lap in the most annoying way.

- I'm talking about forcing himself in your personal space, just for some sugar

- and he's content laying there for /hours/

- and you bet your ass you're not moving an INCH unless you threaten to piss on the couch/bed

- "gorgeous"

- he compliments you in a blunt way

- and when you feel especially down, you'll find extra shiny rocks in your pockets

jane, voice:

- she could listen to your voice for hours

- or the rest of eternity

- and she damn well should

- when she's stressed and unable to nap, she'll beg you to tell her how your day has been. and in the most detailed way imaginable. tell her which direction the blender spun when it churned up your fruity smoothie

- and pretty soon her eyes are fluttering shut and sleep is welcoming her like an old friend

- "oh dearie, want to talk about it?"

- she sets everything aside for you. she wants you to spill your feeling guts out so she can make sense of it all. it doesn't make sense. your voice soothes her and makes her feel so happy. it's tender and gentle on her canals.

- she holds your hands and makes you look her in the eyes. she tells you how she sometimes can't sleep without you talking to her. she's fallen asleep countless times by your side because of your voice alone

- and she swears you are an angel from above with an voice as soothing and musical as yours.

- when she misses any of your calls, she'll pray that you left her a voicemail

- and instead of texting, she'll call to hear your voice. even if it's a simple topic that can be solved better through messages

Helen, hip dips/tummy:

- you're like the most perfectly sculpted statue to him. or a portrait made with the best paints and spent the most amount of time on

- he's breathless by your beauty constantly

- and he's a flustered blubbering mess. unable to find his words or compose himself when you so much as smile at him

- god knows how he managed to land a date with you. or a committed relationship.

- he begs to paint you and that's when the topic comes up

- he sits there and listens patiently, frowning more and more as you spill your squishy heart out to him

- he's silent for a moment

- "but I think you're beautiful."

- he isn't sure how to say it. but to him, god spent the most time on you

- you stun him anytime you enter a room

- and he takes extra care of you. he makes sure to compliment you more and more, hoping his words and the love he manages to shower you in is enough to mend you

- it probably isn't, because that might not be how it works for everyone, but he's trying and will do anything it takes for his lovely

- he's extra touchy, hugging you closer. you can feel his heart beating against your back as he holds you to him, back to his chest.

- "you always look so beautiful without even trying... how?"

- and he kisses you

- you'll get some good ol' helen lovin'

Ben, acne/eczema:

- let's get something straight first: he's a tit. a whole one. he's teased you before but never jabbed at insecurities

- and he did it to show his love at first

- but here you are, mumbling about how you hate your acne and the deep scars it's left on your back and face.

- "that just means your skin is oily"

"I wish it wasn't. it makes me look /ugly/"

- he stops right then and there, turning to stare at you like you insulted his entire family tree

- and you may as well have

- he tells you to never say that again and doesn't listen to excuses

- takes your face in his hands and makes you swear on it

- he kisses all over your face

- "I'll do face masks and shit with you if it'll make you happy"

- and he follows through with that!

- when he's at the store he buys new products to try, and he reassures you that your skin will get better eventually when you're upset over his glow

- he had a hell of a lot of acne when he was alive and a thriving teen

- and he can't find words to explain how beautiful you are to him

- you just are and he assumes it's common knowledge

- to you and everyone else

- he won't let you talk shit about yourself, and won't let anyone else do that either

LJ, face shape/proportions:

- he just frowns insecurities at first

- isn't there more to worry about?

- he sees it genuinely dishearten you and softens. he gently takes his claws through your hair, mumbling about how he didn't know it bothered you so much

- "...but it's.. your face?"

- he winces at his own stupidity and inability to comfort someone else

- he lets you ramble it all out and tells you the hard truth: there isn't a lot you can do. plastic surgery is expensive and often gets botched, and there's people out there who'd kill for a face like your own

- he's a hard ass but a very very loveable one

- he kisses you and holds you to him, telling you that he loves you over and over

- the next day he's arranged a day to yourself so you aren't stressing your weak squish brain.

- he's taken care of your household responsibilities for you and brings in your favorite snacks

- puts on your favorite show or movie and cuddles you the rest of the day

- he holds you so securely and protectively, even when it's just the two of you

- no one will get their hands on you or make you feel bad about yourself

- not whole, he still has a good ass kicking in him left.

Toby, and scars:

- he knows what it's like. he has scars up and down his arms and over his back from the car wreck and faint ones on the side of his fingers from how he tore his skin down to the bone with his his teeth

- he doesn't take the same approach as jeff, and instead wants you to talk it all out and cry until you're exhausted

- he tells you every scar has a story and he loves yours

- because it brought you right to him

- and he couldn't have made it through most of the shit he has without you.

- "I l-luh-love you"

- you make him feel better about himself and he wants you to feel the same way with him

- he'll gently brush his fingers across your scars, tough so light and airy you can barely feel it

- he's always ready to listen to how you got them

- no matter how stupid or not badass the story may be, he's invested because you're his storybook

- and he can't wait to dig in and read it again and again

Ej, big nose:

- he's always found himself gazing at your profile from his spot. anytime he can see it, he traces it silently with just his eyes

- and he looks away flustered

- he thinks it's fits your face. he doesn't take listening to you talk about a nose job or anyone else's straight bridged nose

- yours is perfect and he can't picture you with another one

- he lifts his mask and presses a kiss to the bridge or the tip of it often

- and he loves watching your face flush red in reaction

- "I think it looks lovely on you"

- and he'll tell you that every single day if he has to

- with him being an immortal demon means he has plenty of time

- as long as you're glued to his side he's telling you how much he adores the features that are plastered to your face

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sapphire-innit · 3 years ago

Text

DRISTAAAAA TIMEEE

VOD: TommyInnit Speaks To Dream’s Sister AGAIN

(rp): Drista!! I love this chaotic child and am looking forward to seeing the children bully each other lmao. I especially love the mythos around Creative mode, and that the most benevolent god on the Dream SMP is just as likely to ban you as hand you a shulker box lol.

I do wonder how in character cc!Tommy is going to be able to stay during this stream: on one hand he’s a master at staying in character even during lh moments, and on the other Exile arc is some Dark Shit and Dristas like what, 14?? Overall I expect this to be one of the lighter streams, with a smattering of moments where we remember that, oh right, Tommy’s pretty actively suicidal at this point and he sees this as one of his last hurrahs.

Speaking of our boy Tommy: it's very clear we are getting closer and closer to the infamous pillar. He switches rapidly between Fight and Fawn reflexes and has mostly internalized Dream’s treatment and conditions at this point. The one stand out moment being him calling out Dream killing Mexican Dream last stream, and pointing out he was changing his story even when Dream tried to lie and say he died of “a drug overdose [...] or natural causes”. I’m curious if Tommy is going to bring it up again, and even more curious if he eventually believes Dream about it; something to watch out for, for sure. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this moment of rebellion happened right after he had someone both stand up for him and spend time with him that wasn’t actively hostile or going to end (supposedly, at least by intention)

Hey we didn’t start off drowning for once!! cc!Tommy was also singing, though that could have been mostly out of character as well. Still, remarkably in a better mood, he even mentions having an appetite! You love to see it, and it's clearly because he’s looking forward to Drista’s visit

He’s building a log tower and on one hand, Tommy building Towers is a natural state of being, and on the other…. I know the pillar is coming and I am scared

A mention of the Anti-Dream hole… I still worry about when exactly and how Dream is going to find it. Still, I’m glad it exists, both for Tommy having a space for things important to him, as well as what it represents about his mental state re:not giving over completely to Dream

DRISTA!!!! LOL she was already online we didn't even see her join LOL. CHAOS GREMLIN she just flew over in creative mode and started wrecking shit, as is her right lmaoooo

“You massive jer--, (quieter) whats a nicer way…, YOU MASSIVE DICKHEAD” oh, Tommy..

I like how he tries to punch her even when shes CLEARLY IN CREATIVE MODE ADSADASD

The violence inherent in fourteen year olds,,,, adsfsadfsdfds

I hate this conversation why is this the conversation asdffdsfsd TEENAGERS

DREAM YOUR NOT EVEN A TEENAGER WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING THE SAME LOGIC

Well SHE can destroy the obsidian asdfsdfds She just Spleefs

“What would Dream do” Probably worse lets be honest

Is he actually gonna go back to L’manburg?? I don’t believe it but I also want :(

Again with the stabbing

AND DOWN HE GOEEEESSSS

“I have the fork, but I'm also killing you” afsafsdfdsf Tommy why are you wearing your good shit omg

Lol cc!Dream trying to defend his character for mocking Tommy’s accent adsfsdfds “I would NEVER” in the totally not believable tone lmaoooo

DID SHE REALLY GO AT HIM WITH A FORK I'M FUCKING DYING DSAFDADSFDS

“I will take it from you and I’ll kill him”... I have so many thoughts about how this works in lore. Is Drista possessing Dream? He can kick her out clearly, but she still has God Powers…

Lol and now SHES mocking his accent lmaoooo (... is it bad she sounded pretty close to me? lol)

Adsfdsfswd casual chaos Drista just broke the Nether Portal

Asking Drista to stop destroying things is a big ask to be honest lmaoo. Also she seems to be at least somewhat informed that ‘Dream is not supposed to be nice to Tommy’ or at least seemed hesitant to do /weather clear

GOD THE LAVA BUCKETS AND THE POTION OF HARMING adsfsdfsdf

“Tommy [beheaded him] actually… and killed Mexican Dream” Dream you motherfucker

“How to Sex 3” THE PANIK!!!!!! From Both cc!Dream and Tommy!!! This server is Not Child Friendly lol (Doesn’t…. That not even include sex things…. afasfsd)

Honestly I can’t stop smiling this is so wholesome somehow even with all the cursing and violence

Pigstep IS a bop, Tommy is right

“Just let him, just let him this one time” :(

“Tommy I still have the Fork” Drista totally willing to stab her brother to visit L’manburg

HE TOOK THE FORK ASDASDAS

Yes, closing your eyes will totally protect you from Forks lol

“I don’t need school, I dropped out” Is this Lore Crumbs, is this Lore

HEYYYY ITS THE BEDROCK, the one piece of bedrock he has lol, I think he still has that in current day right?

Drista is writing her name in BEDROCK adsfsdfds “I’m not going to be able to get rid of that actually” “That's the Point”

LOL SHe also recognized the burrito as from Mos lmaooo

Somehow “I really want to go to the other place.. I don’t know why he won’t let you” hit hard… it was def ooc, and she doesn’t have the full context, but still… its just someone else wanting and asking for Tommy to be able see L’manburg…

Afsdfsd the Small Gasp when she spleefs herself omgg

HES THERE!!! HES THERE!!!!!! L’MANBURG!!!!!!

Punz!!! WHY!!!! Were you there bc Drista might let Tommy through, was this a safeguard for the LORE. Also he’s currently working for Dream directly right, as a merc?

Drista trying to save Tommy!!!! Punz why are you winning a fight with someone in creative adfsadfsd He’s too good lol

They have negotiated a visit… I’m so emotional I wasn’t expecting this…. No one told me we got a real L’manburg visit !

BIG Q SHES FOURTEEN!!! Omg they didn’t tell him it was Drista. BIG Q!!! BIG Q DON’T SELL HER DRUGS

“He was Naked” good for you Drista, good for you. There’s something so hilarious about Drista just stabbing Quackity over and over again cause she’s uncomfortable lol (as is her right)

LOL THE FINAL KILL WITH MAGIC WHEN HE’S ALREADY DROWNING IM

Wha --- what video was it????? What is this Tommy picture on the Technoganda???

….”are you sure I’m allowed here” Dream’s conditioning is strong :(

“At many minute I could get mugged” To be Fair Tommy, that was true before

Did Tommy just suggest spawning in a Wither asdfsdfds

DRISTA DOG ARMY!!!! Aww and Tommy has one too~

THE BENCH!! THE HOUSE!!! Aaaaaaaaa He’s sitting on the bench nature is HEALING

AAAAAAAA A BLAZE!!!! Pfffft

…. Who destroyed the front of Tommys house?

,,,,Drista what are you doing with that soULSAND

“OK we'll turn on him” adsfsdfsd

OH HEY TECHNO!!! Lol “Oh god he meant me” fucking mood big man

……. Tubbo hallucination……… fuck

LOL HE COMBAT LOGGED “YOU CALL THAT COMBAT” I'M

To be fair, logging against a /kill is probably the only way to get away lmao

…...F

“Getting thrown off a cliff is literally how Theseus died!!” lol its also hilarious to me that Tommy def does not remember being called that. Personally I don't think it fits him super well anyway, but I do like it as something Techno calls Tommy, that shows how much he misjudges Tommy's character and intentions. No heroes here, just a kid trying to do good by their friends and what they care about

Techno actually looking up how to kill someone in creative mode

…. :( I just want my actual clingyduo content this is meeeeannn

OH HEY TECHNO …. You fucker he would and it would be HILARIOUS (get mad if Drista opped Techno that is lol)

….

IS THIS WHY THEY’RE BEDROCK BROS????? BECAUSE THEY BOTH HAVE DRISTA BEDROCK??????????????????????????

HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS ???

LOL TRUE DUO SUPREMACY TUBBO’S GOT TECHNO'S BEDROCK

Oh F Techno got him with the Obliterator lmaoooo

“I have 114 levels PLEASE” asdfdasfsdf

LOL Tubbo with the TNT there's our nuke boy, I'll take my crumbs where I can get them

THE SHULKER HOLY SHIT

“Don't let someone get it!!”” ADSFDSAFSDFDS they all tuRN CC REAL QUICK WHEN THE SHULKER BOXES COME OUT

Awesamdudes like: MORE PLEASE AFDASFDSF

Techno immediately snitching about Elytra and dRISTA GETTING THE ACHIEVEMENT

EVERYONE SNITCHING IN CHAT I'M!!!! DREAMS REACTION ASDFSDFDSF

Drista being the chaotic giver of illegal gifts is so fucking good I'M THRIVING

THE RUN ON PUNZ !!!! omg

Also can we just take a minute to appreciate Tommy being allowed around people <3 <3 This is so wholesome and good and chaotic as all hell

“I thought I was Tom Cruz for like a whole week” ...TOMMY??

LOL SHE BANNED TECHNO OMG

Dristas on a banning Rampage afsdfsdf

BAN GOGGY OMGGG

Omg shes actually making a wITHER DASDASDFAS

Oh no poor Tubbo I didn’t know he was liVE

319k viewers jeezus

Awwwww Techno hyping up Wilbur's song :) that's so sweet actually

…………….Fuck you Dream :( saw the chance to Twist the Knife in c! And TOOK IT

LOL THE FUCKING FORK IS THE BEST BIT LOLLLL

Lol ironically the Bedrock bros song is the oNE COPYRIGHTED ONE, god why did Minecraft ever copyright Pigstep what a shit move honestlyyy

Pigstep fucking goING TO TECHNO LOLLLLLL “this is the most powerful item on the server since it DMCA’s people”

LOL PUNZ TRYING TO STEAL ANOTHER SHULKER

Poor Sam he actually has to BUILD give this man a SHULKER

Lol Everyone wants a shulker so much

….aww he tried to toss the pigstep disc lmaooo DRISTAS LITERALLY HOLDING IT Scaaaaaammmmed

Drista “I NEED IT ON HAND” So committed to violence !!!

The fucking creepers on the way out omg fuckign PERFECT

LOL TOMMY WASN’T READY FOR THE TURN AROUND ON CURSING LMAO You can tell he's always been the youngest who people aren't sure how much they can curse around lmao He's so soft honestly he talks such a big game and then CRUMBLES when called on it lol

Asfdsfs she fell through the same hole again afsdfsdfsd

Drista has been introduced to a Weapon and she’s gotten ATTACHED lmaooo

Wait HOLD THE PHONE Dream has multiple sisters??? Lol

“Yeah I like Shit” Dream: “whAT???”

Bye Drista it’s been nice!!! I hope she had a good time, she seems like a good kid (who is definitely not a content creator lol though she keeps up admirably)

Drista’s one of the few people who can make Tommy speechless lmaooo he looks actually shocked lol

Also first mention of GhostInnit…. cc!Tommy…..

Keep preparing…. Was his original plan to rush Dream even if (maybe especially if…) he died? Fuck man

Also holy shit was this stream right before Quackitys? ? amazing

This was honestly such a BLAST and a really good time, and I can see why its viewed as one of the few breaks we get during Exile :) I feel so refreshed and it was so so nice to have Tommy hanging out in L’manburg having fun with his friends (even if Tubbo was stuck being a Hallucination and Also Banned lol) No deeper insight, I just haven’t stopped smiling for an hour and a half <3

#dream smp liveblog #dsmp exile arc #tommyinnit #drista #technoblade #dreamwastaken #the shulker man the SHULKER #Ive been hearing about that for AGES glad to see the actual footage

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merakiaes · 5 years ago

Text

Pussy Whipped - Oscar “Spooky” Diaz

Pairing: Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x reader

Requested: Yes.

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: I lacked good ideas for dialogue in this one so this is shit, I’m sorry😂 Not proofread so sorry in advance for any possible mistakes. Translations for the Spanish bits are at the end.

Wordcount: 2420

Summary: Mother nature pays you an early visit and Oscar treats you like the princess you are even though his Santos are watching.

The weather was thriving outside, the air a perfect temperature and the sun shining down on all of Freridge. Yet, on this particular Saturday morning, you were absolutely miserable.

It was eleven o’clock and Oscar had been up for God knows how many hours already, while you had refused to leave your bed when the alarm had urged you to get up and get on with your day.

You’d had a lot planned for the day; chores like cleaning the house and switching out the broken lightbulb in the bathroom, and errands like going to the mall to get Cesar a new pair of shoes and go grocery shopping.

But no, as usual, mother nature chose the most inconvenient of times to pay you her monthly visit, never taking your planned cycle into much consideration.

With Oscar being in charge of Los Santos, he was always an early riser and you rarely woke up next to him, so in any other case, you didn’t mind.

But when you woke up this morning to a cold, empty bed, you had grown sad and started crying, and because of this realized pretty much instantly what was going on, even before the intense pains started.

But the cramps weren’t far behind, stopping you from getting out of bed any more than to go put in a tampon. After that, you had buried yourself under the mountain of blankets Oscar so stubbornly insisted that you slept with and cried even more because of the fact that they smelled like him and he wasn’t there to hold you.

You lost track of how long you laid there and just sulked, feeling sorry for yourself and craving everything you didn’t have in the house, but the second you heard people entering the house, followed shortly by Oscar’s voice cutting through the previously silent air, you defied the painful cramps radiating all through your abdomen and left the safety of your bed.

It was with sulking and begrudging steps that you made your way out of your shared bedroom and headed straight for the living room.

With each step you took, the voices now speaking freely became louder, and you realized only then that your head was throbbing in sync with your uterus, making you cringe silently to yourself.

But you pushed on, desperate to be near Oscar in all your self-pitiful glory and entered the living room only seconds later.

You spotted Oscar where he was sitting in the couch instantly and when feeling your eyes on him, he looked up to meet your gaze.

The smile that had been stretched across his lips prior to your entrance faltered ever so slightly at the sight of the state you were in; hair thrown into a properly messy messy-bun, eyes bloodshot, cheeks streaky with dried tears and your body still dressed in your sleeping attire consisting of a pair of leggings and one of his very oversized t-shirts.

You were always one to start your day early. Not as early as him, but still early. You didn’t like to stay in your pajamas, so when you did, something wasn’t right.

“¿Qué pasa?” He asked you as you approached him at the couch, passing a few other Santos sitting on the opposite side of the coffee table.

Your lips automatically pulled into a small pout at his question, starting to feel your emotions getting the better of you again.

“I’m dying.” You answered in a small voice, looking down at him.

He wasted no time in shuffling further back into his seat and opening his arms, nodding his head lightly. “Come here, mami.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, sitting down in his lap and feeling a rush of calmness go through your body the second his arms wrapped around you. Getting comfortable, you leaned your back against his chest.

Sad Eyes, who was sitting next to Oscar, wordlessly accepted your legs over his knees while taking a sip out of the beer he was holding in his hand.

Meanwhile, the other three Santos who were present looked on with amused expressions as their fearless leader pressed a kiss to the top of your head and started rubbing your arms in a soothing manner.

“You going soft on us, Spooky?” One of them asked, but before Oscar even got the chance to reply, you flashed a fierce glare at him.

“Shut it, Manuel.” You snapped, snuggling further into Oscar’s chest.

Manuel whistled, smirking at you. “Damn. You on your monthlies?” He laughed at his own joke, but the others didn’t join in, having known you for longer and knowing exactly what was up.

“Yes, I am on my period.” You confirmed with hard eyes. “No, that does not mean that my anger is irrational.”

Oscar pressed a kiss to the side of your neck from behind you, clasping his hands in front of your chest. “Calm down.” He mumbled into your skin, pressing another kiss to the spot between your neck and shoulder. “Flow came early this month, huh.”

“Mhm.” You hummed, his affections calming you down immediately. “It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t be punished for not being pregnant.” You complained to yourself, scoffing lightly.

“Psh, how bad can it be? So what you got cramps.” Manuel dropped yet another comment, shaking his head.

This time, you only closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose, focusing on Oscar’s soft touches in order to not blow up right then and there.

Instead, the Santo next to him slapped him across the chest, giving him a look of disbelief. “Dawg, do you have a death wish or something?” He asked. “You don’t question chicas when they’re on their flow. Rule one.”

“I’m just sayin’, homie. It can’t-“

“How about you let me stab you in the stomach a hundred times?” You interrupted him, opening your eyes and raising an eyebrow at him. “And then make you walk around like everything is fine while you bleed from your privates?”

His nose scrunched up in disgust at your words, his previously teasing attitude dropping. “Keep those bloody details to yourself. That shit’s disgusting.”

Your eyebrows shot up even further at that. “Well, that’s pathetic.” You chuckled. “What’s really disgusting is that men are still grossed out about girls getting their periods in the twenty-first century. I’m sure your mother was praying to get hers but she got you instead. Tragic.”

Oscar’s chest shook with laughter behind you, the other Santos joining in while Manuel looked sheepish.

“She got you there, ese.” Sad Eyes spoke up for the first time at that, shaking his head with an amused smirk crossed over his features. “You know, there’s a reason Spooky’s got a ruca and you don’t.”

“Yeah, and this is it.” You agreed with a snort, before looking at your boyfriend’s right-hand man with gratitude. “Thank you, Sad Eyes.”

He gave you a nod, face still amused. “I got you, Lady Spooky.” He chuckled, but Manuel wasn’t half as amused, glaring around at you.

“Why you ganging up on me?” He asked, offended, and one of the Santos immediately delivered a slap to the back of his head.

“Because you’re stupid.” He answered, and while the two continued to bicker back and forth, you turned to look at Oscar behind you.

His face was pulled into a similar expression as Sad Eyes’; one of pure amusement as he quietly watched the scene unfold. But his face turned sincere when he averted his gaze to meet yours, eyes turning soft.

“You need anything?” He asked, and you wasted no time in nodding, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes even though you knew for a fact that it wasn’t necessary to get what you wanted.

“Can you go get my heating pad?” You asked, touching his face with your hand lightly. “And an Advil, too.”

He stared into your eyes for a long moment, taking in every feature of your face, before slowly nodding his head.

At this point, the bickering stopped and all of the Santos were watching you with amused expressions.

“Check this out, this is where Spooky’s manhood dies.” One of them, this time not Manuel, remarked, causing all of them to laugh.

Oscar’s face broke into an equally as playful smirk as he moved his attention from you to his homies, raising his eyebrows at them. “You know how it is, compa.” He joined in, shrugging his shoulders. “I gotta treat my future baby mama good.”

He rubbed your arms for a moment longer, before starting to stand up.

Naturally, since you were sitting in his lap, you were stood up with him and instantly felt your stomach pull together in pain. You managed to ignore it and raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend instead.

“You planning to put a baby in me, Diaz?” You asked teasingly, and he smirked down at you, wrapping his arms around you.

“You know it, mamas.” He fired back without missing a beat, leaning his face closer to yours while caressing your butt shamelessly. “With my smarts and your looks, our babies will conquer the world.”

“Are you insinuating that I’m not smart?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course not, mi amor. The smartest person I know.” He was quick to defend himself and pressed a kiss to your lips before you could say anything else.

You smiled into it, neither of you caring in the slightest that his Santos were watching you with different expressions. At this point, they were all used to Spooky’s soft spot for you. Or well, everyone but Manuel was, him being fairly new.

But luckily, he was smart enough to understand not to point it out anymore, with the way the others were averting their gazes and minding their own.

Breaking apart from the kiss, you shared a final look before Oscar wordlessly walked into the kitchen to bid to your wishes, while you got back into the couch.

This time, you laid down flat on your back, your head resting on the armrest and Sad Eyes once again accepting your legs over his knees without as much as a single complaint.

The man in question started conversing with the other Santos while Oscar was busying himself in the kitchen and meanwhile, you just laid there in silence, listening in to the conversation at hand with an arm draped over your eyes in an attempt to block out the sunlight streaming in through the window for the sake of your throbbing head.

Five minutes later, the conversation happening around you quietened down and another second later, you felt a prod against your arm.

Removing said arm from over your eyes, you caught sight of Oscar now standing above you, holding your heating pad in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

A smile instantly graced your features and you wasted no time in pulling yourself into a sitting position, pulling your legs up to your chest.

“Thank you, baby.” You thanked him, gratefully accepting the glass of water along with the pill he had been holding in his hand behind it.

You swallowed the pill with a few sips of the water and handed the glass back to him, trading it for the heating pad that you wasted no time in placing at the bottom of your stomach.

You let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of the heat and Oscar raised an amused eyebrow. “Better?” He questioned and you nodded, wrapping your arms around your legs and leaning your cheek on your knees.

“Much.” You smiled, and he smiled back before heading back into the kitchen with the glass.

Only a few seconds later, he walked back into the living room with his phone in his hand, raising it slightly in a signal to his Santos.

“Got a text. Let’s dip.” He told them and they didn’t need to be told twice, all of them beginning to stand up from their respective seats.

Oscar’s face was much colder now, almost completely free of emotion, but as he walked over to you, his eyes still went soft at the sight of you.

You offered him a soft smile, taking his hand in yours once he reached you by the couch. “Can you go by the store when you get back?” You asked. “The fridge is empty and I’m hungry. And I’m all out of tampons.”

He nodded his head simply, squeezing your hand. “Te apoyo, cariño.”

Sad Eyes was the last one out of his seat beside you, shaking his head and chuckling, watching his best friend basically turn into a pile of mush at one simple touch from you.

“She’s got your cojones locked up tight, compa.” He teased, and you watched as Oscar’s playful attitude returned at the comment.

“Cállate.” He chuckled, looking at him, before turning back to you. “I'll get you some of that chocolate you like, too.”

He used his thumb to caress your knuckles and you smiled at the feeling, feeling your body grow warm at his affection. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, mi amor.” His hand dropped yours, instead reaching out to touch your chin. “Go lay down. I’ll be back soon.”

You nodded, still smiling softly, but instantly raised an eyebrow when his hand left your chin and he turned to walk away.

“Hey, where are you going?” You asked, giving him a smirk when he turned back to look at you. “Forgot something.” You pointed to your lips, raising your head from your knees and straightening your neck to give him better access.

He chuckled at you as you started making kissing noises, but nonetheless leaned down to press a quick kiss to your pouting lips. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, baby.” You smiled and leaned your head back on your knees, now content and allowing him to walk away from you.

“Pussy whipped bitch.” Sad Eyes wasted no time in commenting once he reached him in the doorway of the front door, and Oscar, in turn, wasted no time in playfully shoving his chest.

“You looking to scrap, cabrón?” He asked, shoving him again. “I’ll give it to you.”

Sad Eyes stumbled into the wall behind him at the sudden force but he quickly regained his composure, starting to play-fight back.

You shook your head as they exited the house and let the door shut behind them, listening to their Spanish bickering until the sound of Oscar’s Impala starting and driving away filled your ears, only then speaking fondly to yourself.

“Idiots.”

Translations (I’m not a native Spanish speaker so this might not be a hundred percent accurate):

¿Qué pasa? – What’s wrong? Te apoyo, cariño – I got you, baby

#oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz #oscar spooky diaz #on my block #on my block imagine #on my block x reader #spooky #spooky diaz #spooky x reader #sad eyes #mario martinez #ruby martinez #jamal turner #cesar diaz #monse finnie

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venteamocha · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! Sometimes I see you post stuff from IF blogs and I've recently started playing some IF games, which I've enjoyed so far. Do you have any IF stories you'd recommend in particular? I'm not attached to any particular genre and I don't need romance or a self-insert main character, (though I'm not opposed to either). Though, it's a definite plus if it's LGBTQ+ inclusive! I'm not really sure what the "cornerstones" are of IF so I'll take any and all recommendations haha

Oh god, I play so many IFs. So many. And it’s not even close to all of them, but I’m trying!!

Tbh IFs without romance seems to be very rare, I think because when I think IF I think Choice of Games, and those pretty much always have romance in them. At least, the most well known ones do. But a well done one without romance would be nice too!

Okay, this is a list of my favourites! They’re all LGBT+ inclusive, and most have gender selectable love interests, or at least ones that change gender depending on the gender and sexuality combination you pick. In no particular order, of course. Behind a cut because I’m gonna give them each a mini review. Because I haven’t done that yet.

(There are so many.)

Mind Blind: I absolutely love our big brother Nick, I love how witty and sharp so much of the dialogue is, I love how the MC clearly has a rather large handicap, but is still such an important person to so many people and not looked down on in the slightest. And when they are, we all know it’s because that person is a jerk! They’re not defined by what they aren’t, but what they are, and that’s a great message.

Shepherds of Haven: Part of why I love this one so much is I just love fantasy settings and this one just pulls it off so well. The cast is full of amazing characters, and I gotta say I die inside pretty regularly for not being able to afford the patreon content, lol. The author puts so much amazing stuff on there, and gives us so much great content in the game and through answers on tumblr, and you can tell this whole thing is just the best thing ever to them, and that makes it the best ever for us readers too!

The Wayhaven Chronicles: I’d be shot if I didn’t mention this one, the series that literally killed dashingdon when the book 3 demo dropped!! Again, another author that cares a lot and does their best to do right by their fans. We’ve been given drip after drip of these amazing characters backstories, and I just cannot wait for more! It’s definitely very romance centered, but the overall plotlines are also very good, and I have to say that no matter who I romance, I just feel like the group as a whole is a family. And that’s wonderful.

Speaker: I really like the lore. I really like the lore. I can’t wait until we get more of the overall plotline. Mostly I want my Speaker to get in deep trouble so Seb, Li and Seer (best sister ever) go off and beat the shit out of whatever is causing it. This probably says something about me, but what can I say, I thrive on angst and inflicting near death injuries on my OCs. Sometimes I even kill them, although all of this is offtopic. Or is it? I guess we’ll find out, although I doubt we’ll actually be able to kill off Speaker. And yes, I am definitely playing the Seb & Li poly route. I love them both so much.

Wilhelmina: I love vampires, ok? Ok? And this one is based off Dracula!! The OG!! And you can choose Drac’s gender!! Shit, sign me up forever!! Yeah, she might be literally killing my bff, torturing my fiancé and low key fucking with my mind, but vampires are hot!! Let me live! Or not. But yeah, this is a really well done retelling of the Dracula novel and I like how well it works as an IF. Did I mention I like vampires?? Especially when they get all monstery?? (This one has an MC with a set gender, as it’s based on an already existing literary figure. Mina can have a same sex relationship with dracula, if you make drac a female, or with Lucy, a female love interest.)

More Things in Heaven and Earth: Hi Nell!! First off, I gotta uncover a deep shame of mine. My family literally has a Shakespeare heirloom collection. As in, my greatgrandfather passed down through the family a collection of Shakespeare that was published in 1911. In ye olde englishe. I tried to read it when I was like 10 and was like what language is this?? What the fuck? What the fuck??? And ended up reading As You Like It, a bit of Romeo and Juliet, and a little of Hamlet. Didn’t touch the rest of it. I only got into the other stories through trashy ya reimaginings. That said, this retelling of Hamlet inspired me to go read the whole of the original and now I have a lot of fears for these characters that I’m so much more attached to, oh god I hope my Ophelia has a happy ending. I hope Hamlet himself has a happy ending. The dialogue is so well done, everyone is engaging, and yeah it made me finish an old af book when nothing else did. (This one also has an MC with a set gender, female, for the same reason. However, there are two gender variable love interests, so you can very much play a bi or gay Ophelia if you so choose.)

Guenevere: I love King Arthur. All the myths. I have so many books based on the King Arthur mythos, oh dear god. I love pretty much every version of it. All the movie and tv shows too! I just can’t get enough of those knights. I could go on for paragraphs about how courtly love worked and how all the different social castes were, but I’ll try not to. This series lets you customize Guen as a character to an amazing degree, considering that she’s also based on an actual literary figure like the other two I mentioned above. It really feels like she becomes your own character, and yet she still exists within this world very very well. I worry quite a bit that the author might have bit off more than they can chew with the current book they’re working on, what I’ve seen of it looks absolutely massive in scale. What is out so far is a wonderful read though, full of drama and laughter and lots of chances to make the story your own.

Bastard of Camelot: Yep! Another King Arthur series! Sue me! This one lets you set Mordred’s gender though, so it’s more inclusive in that way. It is very interesting to play as one of the “bad guys” of the King Arthur mythos. You can play them as straight up evil, as good, or you know, a bit of column a and a bit of column b. Or they can just be a rude little shit. It’s got dragons too! You get a dragon pet! Dragons are cool. It can be a bit tough to play sometimes, since a lot of people dislike Mordred quite a lot because of prejudices. Hopefully this will change a bit later in the series if you’ve been a fairly good person up to that point. Gotta say though, as a warning, that Mordred is a product of incest. It’s not glossed over, and it does cause a lot of problems for them in the story.

God of the Red Mountain: I just love that this inspired me to read more chinese mythology tbh. There is just so much here! And it’s just such a good read. I wish I was better at describing things. The MC being a spirit that you can define, the whole setting, most of the love interests also being spirits, the massive amount of history and culture and lore, how it all fits together. It is such a well done story. I really wish it got more attention than it does. I still miss Big Sister. I still can’t wait to find out more about the foxes, and how we can heal our MC.

The Nameless: Another one that lets you play as something otherworldly. I love the lore behind this one, and I love all of the cast I’ve met. I kind of like that our MC isn’t loved right off the bat, that we’ll have to win over all of our love interests and even the other npcs. I’m up for the challenge! Everything I’ve read on the tumblr for these characters just makes me love them all more tbh. I love how much they’ve written for all of them! Most of all though, I love Oisein. All the art of them is just *chef kiss* and their personality is magical.

A Mage Reborn: This is a really recent one but!! Wow, it’s really well done! That cliffhanger!! Oof!! Not many books literally start with killing your MC off! That takes guts! I told the author this already, but I love the way they formatted this, the way it starts with the end, so to speak, and then fills it all out. It just made everything feel so poignant, how MC is literally looking back at all these moments in time in the last minutes they have before they die. Shit. That’s powerful. And there’s gonna be more??? Can’t wait for that angst. Give me that drama. Of course I picked the one who had me killed, that’s just how I am!

These are all just the COG type games, there are a few twine games with graphics I’d throw on here, but the list is long enough as it is and they feel like they’re in a different category to me. Maybe it’s just me?

#if #if recs #rivi's recs #interactive fiction #there are more than these that i like too!#these are just the ones i feel the strongest about #and as i said these don't include the itchio twine ones #there are amazing ones there too but that feels like it should be a separate post?#i'd put links but i think it won't show up anywhere if i do #because tumblr is A Site #i can pass them on though if needed

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crystalirises · 4 years ago

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NPC Fundy AU

Essentially, Fundy is not part of the main canon. He's just a person living within the SMP. However, that doesn't mean he doesn't have any ties to the people within canon...

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31985884/chapters/79557208

His papa had promised him that he’d be back.

That was five years ago. Now, there was but a rotting cottage behind him and a god with an offer before him. Fundy glanced down at the god’s open hands, the paleness of their gloves reminded him of pure white snow. Their head was spherical, not quite a face but he could make out an X and D, which looked like they were perpetually joyful. He hadn’t felt that happy in a long, long time. The god had followed him from the river that he had been fishing from, whispering sweet words into his ears, promises of a better life in a better world. Fundy couldn’t trust them, couldn’t trust in promises. Promises were meant to be broken, as his papa had so demonstrated.

No. He wouldn’t trust in the god’s promises. What he wanted was a deal.

The god was surprised at the little fox’s audacity, but they let out a giggle, agreeing to the proposition. It wasn’t an issue to them anyway. So the god asked what the boy wanted, expecting the usual wish of treasure beyond any man’s wildest imagination. Yet the answer shocked them. For the boy had asked to be let into their world, in exchange for his memories. Not quite the deal. Not one that they found to be fair. But if that is what the boy wanted, then they shall agree to it.

Though Fundy did intervene before the deal was to be set. He wanted to leave a letter.

The god let him, after all, it would be the last act he’d do in this life.

Fundy had rushed back into the home that he’d known for most of his life. He had been eight when his father had left, promising a quick return and a gift for Fundy once he came back. He waited through all five springs. He waited through all five summers. He waited through all five autumns. He waited through all of the five winters, when all he could do was throw in scraps of wood and clothing into the fireplace to keep himself warm and chewed on grass to keep himself alive, but his papa never came back. So, he picked up a pen and paper, and began to write:

‘Papa… Wilbur, something interesting happened today. A god approached me today, and asked if I wanted to go with them. I think I will. I miss you, everyday. But I think it’s time for me to go. I pray that you find this letter, and that you may be happy knowing that I am in a better place.

I’ll always I love Love you Goodbye.’

He left the letter on the table, trusting that it would stay and not be lost to the wind. Fundy rushed back to the god, whose hand had reached out to hold his. And off they went to the Essempy.

---

When he first met General Wilbur Soot, his first thought was that the man was charming. Fundy had been working on one of his many inventions when someone had chanced upon his house. He opened it to find a man in a blue uniform. He need not look at the flag that was finely stitched onto the man’s jacket. Everyone within the Essempy had heard of the General of L’Manburg.

Most had called him persuasive and revolutionary. Others called him a lunatic and a hopeless dreamer. Fundy had neither opinion, for he had no care towards the coming L’Manberg-Essempian War. He knew that L’Manburg was short on supplies and on men, and the general of a losing country could only be at his doorstep for one particular purpose. Fundy had expected many promises to be made, anything to get another soldier in L’Manburg’s ranks.

He had not expected to be pulled into a nearly suffocating hug.

It took a while for him to free himself from the man’s grasp. Still, the man held onto him.

At least the promises had been proposed, like he’d expected them to be. The General promised freedom, a life away from tyranny. While the man continued on with his calculated rambling, Fundy couldn’t help but listen, a part of him wondering why this scene felt so familiar. Fundy standing before a man on the precipice of making history while continuously staring out from the safety of his den. The man laid a hand on his cheek, crocodile tears flowing past his cheeks.

The general then promised his safety, and Fundy couldn’t help but feel like the man hadn’t promised anyone else that. Yet he was not the type of person to trust in promises. This man knew the game of charm and wit, knew the proper words to sway people to his side. Fundy would not have it. He was content to live his days in the sereneness and simplicity of his home. Besides, he’d heard the rumors, heard of the masked man that ruled over the lands of the Essempy. The General of L’Manburg may not fear Dream’s retribution, but Fundy sure did fear his punishment.

In truth, the promises felt like a luren’s lure. Ones that would lead him to his own demise.

The man still stood before him, crying out to a stranger who did not know him. Fundy let him cry, for there was nothing wrong in that. The general may be a siren, but he was still a man. Fundy would give him this moment of weakness, though he knew not of what the man cried for.

It was a pity really, moving though his promises may be, Fundy did not believe in promises.

Fundy smiled, and declined to join L’Manburg’s side.

---

When he first meets President Wilbur Soot, he is genuinely surprised to find the man alive, albeit down to two lives. He hadn’t meant to go near L’Manburg, hadn’t even known where it was, but he’d spotted the president. Well, the president spotted him. The man had quickly rushed after him, the same charming smile on the man’s face while he pulled Fundy deeper into the country.

He held on tightly to the basket of pastries on his arm, forcing down his irritation while the man gave him an extensive and thorough tour of the nation. The president seemed particularly fond of the blackstone walls that surrounded L’Manburg, stating that they were built for his beloved son.

Fundy nodded along, letting the man tell him tales of the nation he and his brothers had fought so hard for, trying to quell his rising curiosity from getting the better of him. No one had ever mentioned that the president had a son, only two brothers. The president continued to pull him along, introducing him to a few residents that walked by them. A few of the people’s faces were familiar to him, and Fundy was quite surprised to find former Essempians within L’Manburg.

Their little walk finally came to a lull by the time they reached a van… with a burning hot dog on top of it. Fundy averted his gaze, coughing down a chuckle at the oddity of such a vehicle.

“How do you like our nation so far?”

Odd. The president’s wording of the question felt too personal.

“A good nation, I suppose.” Fundy glanced around, pursing his lips together. The ruler of the Essempy would not take this transgression lightly, yet these people walked around like they were finally free. He shook his head at the falsities. He glanced over at Wilbur, taking in the details that people did not wish to see so they chose not to see. This man was ambitious. A charming and ambitious man. Fundy could only hope the ambition didn’t fall into obsession. “L’Manburg seems to be thriving. I suppose congratulations are in order. You won the war, how impressive.”

“It is. We won. We have independence!” The man clasped a hand around his shoulders, nearly jostling the pastries off the basket. He tried to give the president a smile, happy for the man but he did want to get home. He would also rather not think about how the man kept wording his statements so personally. Fundy moved away from the president, taking a small step back to show that he was leaving. The man’s eyes seemed to widen. “You have a home here, Fundy.”

He nods in understanding, an awkward smile showing on his face.

Fundy declines the president's offer.

---

When he first meets the exiled ex-President Wilbur Soot, he nearly slams the door on the man’s face. The man, for lack of a better description, looked like shit. It was the dead of night when the man had come to visit him, the scent of gunpowder clinging to the man. Fundy, despite his better judgment, invited the man in for a midnight cup of tea. It felt odd to be in the man’s presence. He didn’t feel safe around him, didn’t feel like the man was the same man he’d been before. Fundy glanced up, nearly jumping once he realized that Wilbur hadn’t stopped staring at him at all.

“You hate me.” The man’s words were a surprise. His ears flicked up, his tail wrapping around his waist. Fundy hadn’t the faintest idea where the man had gotten that idea. Wilbur hadn’t made a move to grab at his teacup, glaring at it like it was poisoned. “No… you must despise me.”

“Wilbur, I don’t know you enough to hate you.”

“That’s my fault, isn’t it?” The man suddenly stood up, grabbing the tea cup before smashing it against the ground. Fundy flinched, arms wrapping around himself in fear that Wilbur might turn his attention to him. He wasn’t much of a fighter. Luckily, the man fell into a tired rant of his miserable life. Fundy couldn’t understand a single word, but he could hear the pain in Wilbur’s voice, the regret. “This whole shitshow. It’s my fucking fault. Everything I care about is gone!”

“I— Wil…” Fundy rose from his seat, mindful not to step on the shards of glass on the floor. He’d have to clean that in the morning. He laid a gentle hand on Wilbur’s shoulder, shaking him back to reality. “You were a great general once. You can get your nation back. I know you can.”

“THAT DAMNED NATION IS FUCKING GONE! IT’S BEEN GONE SINCE THAT FUCKING TRAITOR LED US TO THEIR DEATHS! … It’s been gone since you told me you wouldn’t live within our nation’s walls…” Wilbur sniffled, slamming a hand against the table. Fundy tried to ignore the last statement. He had no idea why Wilbur was stating such an accusation, but he could only imagine why. Perhaps the man wasn’t even seeing him. “L’Manburg is gone. The idea of that nation never even left my imagination. How could it when the reason I founded it for wasn’t even with me? That nation has to go, my little champion.”

He tried not to flinch when the man suddenly embraced him.

Fundy couldn’t help but lean in, wondering if this was how it felt to have a parent.

Really… He shouldn’t have been surprised to hear about Wilbur’s death a few weeks later.

Still… he couldn’t help but mourn for the man anyway.

---

When he first meets Ghostbur, the ghost insists that he stay with Fundy.

He even brought along a friend, Friend the Sheep.

The others - Wilbur’s friends and family - had glared at him in resentment, except for a few who had an understanding look in their eyes. They seemed to agree, most reluctantly, that Ghostbur should stay with him. Fundy found that quite odd, but they had insisted - some desperately and others threateningly - that Ghostbur stay with him. He couldn’t do much since the ghost had chosen to barge into his den everytime he had the chance to. Fundy found it… endearing.

Although… he wished the ghost wasn’t so… clingy. Fundy could barely breathe around him.

Ghostbur was cold, not personality-wise but physically. He had no idea of space, always inserting himself into every little detail of Fundy’s life. Worst still, the ghost treated him like he was a helpless child, even once trying to carry him up into his arms like he had the strength to do so. Fundy was eighteen. The ghost insisted on always hugging him, calling him ‘his little champion’ and every other petname that he could think of. At first, it had been nice… to be wanted by someone in such a way, but overtime, it became too overbearing for him to handle.

Yet each time he looked into those broken dark eyes, he couldn’t help but sigh and let the ghost do what he wanted to do. Ghostbur was imagining him for someone else, and everyone expected him to help the ghost remember. If this was the cure, then he’d gladly go on with the charade.

It’s what he would want anyone to do for him… help him remember.

He spends most of his mornings tending to his farm with Ghostbur, the ghost either singing a little song with his guitar or telling tales of the life that he could remember. In the afternoons, they would go over to New L’Manburg and fish with Philza, Ghostbur’s dad who seemed all too guilty to be around Ghostbur. In the nighttime, he would either have tea with the ghost who would be reading in the corner of their shared home or Ghostbur would pull him outside and they would make Chinese lanterns. Fundy found that he liked those moments with Ghostbur the most.

It was an odd companionship, but Fundy found himself feeling less alone with the ghost. Though he knew that the friendship wouldn’t last long. In the end, Fundy was nothing but a stranger.

When Tommy was exiled, Ghostbur followed after him.

Huh… Maybe Tommy was Wilbur’s son?

---

He met him again. The real him. The live version.

Fundy stood at his den’s open doorway, staring up at the man who crawled his way out of hell.

He heard the rumors.

He didn’t think a man could ever cheat death. But then…

Did he expect anything less from Wilbur Soot?

The man that stood before him, frightened him.

This man didn’t have the general’s charm that made Fundy trust him.

This man didn’t have the president’s hospitality that made Fundy like him.

This man didn’t have the exile’s desperation that Fundy felt sorry for.

This man didn’t have Ghostbur’s amnesia, which Fundy sympathized with him for.

This man was…

Fundy wasn’t sure.

He was bolder. That’s how Fundy would describe him.

He had grinned widely at Fundy, pulled him close with the intent to never let go.

He called him his little champion.

He called him son.

And when the man reached for his hand and asked Fundy to go with him.

Fundy said yes.

He wasn’t sure what the man would have done…

If he’d said no.

#fundy #wilbur soot #dream smp #dream smp fanfic

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coldflasher · 4 years ago

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SO idk if anyone else is watching superman and lois (i’m kinda loving it i can’t lie) but i gotta say jonathan is giving me FEELINGS

like idk how much of this comes from me reading into this with my own perspective of that very specific eldest daughter experience of feeling like your family members’ personal therapist and squashing your feelings to do what’s best for the family and ending up being essentially a third parent to the younger/more vulnerable sibling but god i FEEL for jonathan so much. i know we haven’t focused on him much yet but every episode i watch him swallow his jealousy and his frustration in order to look out for his brother and it breaks my heart, and i really hope they’re going to address it because i kind of want to see him SNAP

and i mean that not in the sense of wanting to see him suffer, but i can see the poor kid is trying so hard and putting in this herculean effort to bolster his brother. and of course jordan has it rough - mental health issues, new powers, disappointment that those powers aren’t what he had hoped or expected, social difficulties etc - but i feel like jonathan is expected to be the strong one, and honestly he’s really going through it and everyone is so busy supporting jordan that jonathan is just getting overlooked and it’s so SAD.

i mean, jonathan had a great life in metropolis. he had a promising football career, a girlfriend, popularity, everything. he gives all that up to move to smallville, because of his dad and his brother, bc it’s what’s best for everyone else, no complaints.

almost as soon as they arrive, his brother gets powers and he doesn’t, which has GOT to cause some complex feelings right off the bat - jealousy, at the very least, and maybe some resentment he’s doing his best to swallow. then jordan accidentally pisses off the popular kids and suddenly jonathan, by association, is getting shit for something he didn’t do. he’s sidelined on the football team, the one thing he’s really amazing at, made a pariah by the other kids bc of what happened with jordan - and then jordan shows up at tryouts, having never had any interest in sports before and admitting that he’s only doing it to get one over on the bullies. he uses his new powers to be better at the thing jonathan has been working hard at his whole life, makes friends with the other kids, while jonathan is just left there suddenly sidelined in every way - and THEN. then, jonathan has a chance to put a stop to it, to try and convince clark that it’s too risky for jordan to play in case he hurts someone, and instead he does the opposite and begs clark to let jordan keep playing bc he thinks it’ll be good for him, and bc he can see that he’s thriving, and??? the sheer kindness and unselfishness of that? because it must STING to watch jordan swan in and suddenly be 10x better than him, to essentially take his thing and outdo him with minimal effort, and yet he STILL doesn’t complain? god.

my heart goes out to him, honestly. and i want to see it acknowledged how many sacrifices he’s made because jordan gets to go off and lose his shit every ep while poor jonathan swallows his tongue over and over bc he just wants to be a good brother, and everyone relies on him to be the stable one, the easygoing one, the one who has it together.

and i just wanna emphasize i do NOT blame jordan at all, i sympathise with him too, i think he’s great, i just feel so much of a connection to jonathan’s struggles specifically and i really hope the show explores that - which im like 99% sure it’s going to, like the hints are subtle but they’re there. the focus is very much on jordan right now but i do feel like they’re gonna do something with jonathan and i can’t wait cos he deserves some kind of support here and it feels like he’s drawn the shortest straw out of everyone so far.

#long post for ts #superman and lois spoilers #superman and lois #superman and lois 1x03

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fandomwriterstuff · 3 years ago

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Quarantine Queen

Darcy was, for all intents and purposes, an extrovert. She thrived on being around people, engaging with them, all that jazz. So when Dr. Doom’s minions released a pathogen that led to the entirety of Manhattan being quarantined and sick with an extra-strength virus, she started going stir crazy.

She lived in an apartment building not too far from the Avengers Tower (where she worked in the labs). However, she barely left the tower and only slept in her apartment. She never had food stocked in the fridge. Just vodka in the freezer and some microwave meals stacked behind it.

So, when everything went into lockdown while she was asleep, she panicked.

Can I go to the grocery store? I don’t have any food.

She’d sent it in the tower group chat, hoping the resident Avengers would know more about the situation than she did.

Tin Man: What do you mean no food? You’re the one always making us come to family dinner at the tower.

She rolled her eyes and sent back: Yeah, at the tower. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a meal in my apartment.

Tin Man: I’ll have JARVIS order essentials to be sent to your apartment with no-contact delivery.

HawkDaddy: I got the sickness, please send me soup.

Darcy frowned. It had only been a day since the quarantine started, how did he get sick so fast?

Tin Man: I only send delivery to my favorites.

HawkDaddy: :(

Darcy laughed and rolled her eyes. Her friends were so weird. But then again, she was friends with a bunch of super people. She couldn’t even make friends in her apartment complex because she was never there.

She ended up pulling her knitting supplies out from under her bed to make a Mjolnir-themed sweater for Thor. There wasn’t much work she could do from home since Jane was also not in the labs.

She knitted and had Ted Lasso on in the background on the TV until six, when there was a knock on her door. She startled, dropping a stitch, but quickly recovered and hurried to look through the peephole. Nobody there. She opened the door a crack and looked around, nobody was there. But when she looked down there were about forty bags of groceries in front of her door.

She shot a text to the group.

Holy Mjolnir. That is a lot of groceries.

She added a picture of the mountain of brown paper bags in front of her door.

Tony: You’re welcome, kiddo.

Darcy smiled. Tony could be very thoughtful sometimes. As she started hauling it all inside she took a look at what ‘the basics’ meant. It included oat milk, various canned goods and frozen vegetables, toilet paper and feminine hygiene products (her favorite brand of tampons… was he a mind reader?). He’d even sent her over a tin of brownies.

So, Darcy made it a hobby to be a homebody. As long as she could pass the time, she would be okay. One day turned into two, two into three, then it had been a week, two weeks, three weeks since the quarantine started. It took Darcy three weeks to realize a few things. She’d barely changed out of her pajamas in over a week. She hadn’t showered in nine days. She hadn’t ingested anything but coffee and Ritz crackers for six days. She hadn’t answered Jane’s video calls in three days. She’d been ignoring the group text for two, as it was starting to give her heart palpitations. She hadn’t even moved from the couch to go to her bed last night and woke up with a sore back.

She didn’t notice any of this, of course, until she got another video call. Thinking it was Jane, she just swiped it, but instead of swiping to end it, she accidentally swiped to answer it.

“Fuck!” She shouted as her phone slipped from her hand and onto the rug.

“You know a ‘hello’ would have worked, too,” so that was definitely not Jane’s voice.

“Tony?” she asked as she picked up the phone and looked at the man’s face. She wished she hadn’t though, as he immediately raised an eyebrow at her.

“Have you looked in a mirror like… At all in the past several days? That crust looks several days old, mamacita,” Darcy looked down at her sweaty t-shirt and mens boxer shorts self-consciously. “I mean your face, darling. Have you washed it recently?” His tone softened and that’s when Darcy realized something was wrong. Tony wasn’t soft with her. Sarcastic, sassy, nosy, that’s how she’d describe their relationship. But it was never this sincere.

“Hold on,” her voice was scratchy with disuse and she left her phone face up on the coffee table as she hurried over to her bathroom sink.

Shit. She looked like a wreck. Her hair was a greasy mess piled on top of her head. She couldn’t remember the last time she washed her face. It was a miracle she wasn’t developing acne. After she thoroughly scrubbed the grime off her face, she went to change into other pajamas, but she was thinning out. It was weird. She couldn’t find anything that fit right on her body so she just threw on a pair of blue gingham boxers and one of Tony’s stolen band t-shirts.

“That’s a little better,” Tony spoke when she came back to her phone. “Though I would suggest getting in the shower sometime soon.” She rolled her eyes at that. Maybe.

“Why did you video call me?” She pondered as she settled back down into her couch, feeling a little cleaner.

“You haven’t answered my texts in days. I’m allowed to worry about my friends, Darcy Lewis,” he raised both eyebrows at her and she winced. “I know this quarantine has been hard on everyone, but it’s also okay to not be okay. You’re used to being around people 24/7. You even said yourself that you never eat alone.”

“I’m fine,” she shrugged. “Just used to socializing and doing work. I’m not used to sitting still.”

“Are you sure that’s all? Jane said you haven’t been answering her either.”

“Jane snitched?” She gasped and narrowed her eyes. “Who else?”

Suddenly the man looked very innocent.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he spoke calmly with a lilt to his voice.

“Who else told you they’re worried about me?” Darcy wanted to cross her arms but she was stuck holding her phone.

“Jane and Thor, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Steve-”

“How the fuck? What would they know? I don’t socialize with them outside of the tower so how the fuck would they know something was going on?” She spat, feeling a little defensive and teamed up on.

“You haven’t answered Jane’s calls, so she and Thor are concerned. Clint hasn’t seen you on X-Box live since the first week of quarantine, so he asked about you. Natasha seems to just know things, so she asked me to check in on you. Bruce knows what it’s like to have to be alone all of the time and was wondering how his favorite extrovert was doing. And Steve-”

“Go on, I’d like to hear this,” Darcy muttered. She’d had the biggest crush on Steve for the longest time, but they didn’t talk much since he didn’t work in the labs. They only socialized at family dinners and movie nights.

“He hasn’t heard you blast music in like six days,” Tony said with a quirked eyebrow. Darcy sputtered.

“What does that even mean?” She asked, throwing her free hand up.

“He lives next to you?” Tony said it like a question.

“I thought he lived at the tower,” Darcy frowned, eyeing up the wall she shared with the neighbor she’d never met.

“You- you didn’t know you lived next to Steve?” Tony asked exasperatedly. He shook his head and Darcy felt her cheeks heating. She wasn’t the most observant at times, and they’d been in quarantine for three weeks. It’s not like she was going outside. Plus, before that she was barely ever here. “This is a new level of unobservant. For someone who works in science, this is shocking.”

“It’s not that shocking,” she sputtered, scratching the back of her head. “I was barely ever here before all of this.”

“Fair, but still. For someone who has a Steve-radar, you probably could have figured it out. I mean,” he sighed. “You have the same commute. You work in the same building. When you leave movie night you go to the same place.”

“Yeah but usually I go to ang with Jane first,” Darcy felt like she had to defend herself. “I gotta go, I need to take a shower,” and with that, she cut him off and hung up with a huff. Who did he think he was, her father? Jeez.

As she stripped out of her fresh pajamas (probably not so fresh anymore since she’d been sweating nervously under Tony’s interrogative tone), she noticed even more how thin her fingers were looking, how cold she was. That was probably a bad thing.

However, the thoughts flew from her mind as she stepped into the hot spray of water and just leaned into it. It was nearly a religious experience. Or, it would have been, if she didn’t know that gods were just aliens. She took way too long in there, shampooing twice and just letting the hot water pour over her pale skin. She hadn’t been able to go outside and tan at all this summer with Jane being near a breakthrough and now with the quarantine.

All she’d done was knit and watch TV and cook. She finished Thor’s sweater and decided to knit one for all of the resident Avengers. Thor’s was maroon with little gold Mjolnirs all over it. Bruce’s was cream with little chemical structures all over it (she didn’t think he would wear a shirt with the Hulk all over it). Tony’s was black with a red and gold iron man helmet on the front and “I am Iron Man” on the back. Natasha’s was red with little knives and guns all over it. Clint’s (obviously) was purple with bows and arrows all over it, and “Legolas” on the back (Legolas was his favorite archer, how could Katniss or Merida even compare to an immortal elven archer?).

She was working on Steve’s now. He wasn’t all “apple pie America” in his free time, but she still wanted it to be cute and on theme. It was navy blue with a very complex eagle and waving american flag on it. Darcy was struggling, but she would be finished with it soon. She’d been knitting her whole life, her grandmother had taught her when she lived with her for a while.

She’d send them all out once they were done.

When Darcy finally exited the shower, fresh and smelling like roses and strawberries, she noticed she had another missed call from Jane and a few texts in the group chat. Her heart rate started ratcheting up. She could smell her deodorant in the air as she started sweating slightly. She licked her dry lips. Since when did she get anxious about group chats?

She took a look and smiled softly at her friends’ names.

Nat: I’ve come down with something. I blame Clint.

HawkDaddy: I was sick THREE WEEKS AGO. Why do you blame me?

Nat: You have a guilty face.

HawkDaddy: [download image]

Darcy quickly clicked on the attachment and giggled at Clint’s pouting face. She didn’t think before responding.

You know better than all of us that pouting is not going to sway Natasha’s opinion.

There was suddenly an influx of messages, and then Darcy remembered that she hadn’t responded in several days.

Nat: She’s right, you know.

That was the most normal response. Darcy had a feeling Natasha was the most emotionally intelligent one at the moment and didn’t want to make Darcy feel bad about falling into a depression hole.

HawkDaddy: Marceline the Vampire Queen has returned to us!

Tin Man: I think if anything, Short Stack is Princess Bubblegum.

Here’s Brucey: Darcy is Finn. She’s out here saving all of us all the time. Welcome back :)

Darcy smiled at that one. She’d convinced Clint and the scientists to watch Adventure Time.

America’s Ass: I am so confused.

America’s Ass: [download image]

Darcy laughed as she clicked on Steve’s gif. It was Lemongrab screaming ‘unacceptable.’ She didn’t know which was funnier: Steve not knowing what was going on and actually picking a gif from Adventure time, OR Steve having watched Adventure Time on his own and trolling them.

Alien of Thunder: My lightning sister has returned to the glorious group chat!

Alien of Thunder: This is cause for celebration!

Darcy sighed and smiled at her friends’ antics. Her anxiety had leveled out and she was feeling better than she had in days. First, she got to see Tony’s lovely face. Now she got to text with her friends.

However, it was time to finish Steve’s sweater.

“Friday,” she called out to the speaker in her living room. “Play ‘The Final Countdown,’” Darcy grinned a shark-like grin as she sat in her recliner and got her needles out. She could do this.

It was two more days before she called Tony again.

“What’s up stranger?” He asked when Darcy’s face popped up on the screen.

“I need to have something delivered to each of you. Can you help?” She looked over at the pile of sweaters wrapped in brown paper.

“Yeah, sure. Bruce did some tests on Steve and he seems to be immune due to his super DNA. He can pick it up and deliver it,” Tony was fiddling with a machine and Darcy nodded.

“I’ll text him then, thanks Tony!” And with that she hung up. Though she quickly shot a text to Steve.

I have a mission, should you choose to accept it.

While she waited, she decided to deep clean her room. Nothing would help her get out of her quarantine depression like summer cleaning! Once the entire apartment was vacuumed, mopped, dusted, and Lysol’d, she checked her phone again. Steve just replied.

Hit me with it.

She chuckled and sent back a picture of the stack of presents and the caption: I made something for each of you guys and I need help delivering it.

A moment later she sent another text: Tony said you were immune to the virus so I was wondering if you would help.

It only took a few minutes for Steve to reply.

Sure thing, Darcy :)

She smiled, he was genuinely one of the kindest people she’d met. He was just her type, too: tall, strong, he could swear like a sailor (not that he would let Tony know). While she was pondering her crush on the American icon, a knock sounded on her door, startling her out of her daydream and making her heart rate soar.

Hurrying over to the peephole, she let out a sigh of relief. It was Steve.

When she opened the door he looked down and smiled. When Darcy looked down, she noticed her outfit: a pair of black leggings (thankfully she had decided on pants that morning), and a “HULK SMASH” t-shirt with green and purple tie dye. Well, no use being bashful, she smiled gratefully at the man and let him in.

“I guess since you’re immune you’re allowed to come in,” she quipped and Steve chuckled.

“Thanks,” he rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “What did you make?”

“It’s a surprise,” Darcy winked and Steve felt a blush creep up his neck. “I can’t tell you because I made you one, too. You can’t open yours until everyone else has theirs, too. Okay? And no peeking at theirs. And don’t look in the group chat until you open it. Got it?”

“That’s a lot of rules, Darce,” he was smiling, standing in her newly cleaned apartment and in her personal space like it was totally normal and she hadn’t been isolated for nearly a month.

“I know, but it’s an important mission,” she loaded his arms up with little brown packages and sighed when he went to leave. He turned back to her with a curious look on his face. “It’s nice being able to see somebody in person,” she shrugged and he nodded sagely.

“Well, after I go see everyone I should self-isolate for a few days to make sure I’m not carrying any germs, but maybe after we can get together and watch a movie?” He cocked his head and smiled that winning smile at her.

“That would be lovely,” Darcy couldn’t help but return his smile, and hurried to escort him out. “No peeking!” She called as he laughed his way to the stairwell. He was such a good guy.

Darcy waited anxiously as Steve made his way to the tower and the other Avengers’ abodes. It was taking a little while though… Maybe he had walked? Darcy was nervously scrolling through her Instagram feed when the first message popped up.

It was a picture of Clint’s sweater.

HawkDaddy: Oh Em Gee, Darcy. It’s PERFECT.

Darcy felt warmth blooming in her chest at the sentiment. She loved giving to people. She thrived on happiness.

She kept quiet as the pictures started coming in. Tony was next, and then Bruce (probably working in the labs together with their N95 masks on).

Tin man: Short Stack, you’ve outdone yourself.

Attached was a photo of the sweater (front and back) compared to his actual face plate. It was pretty good, if she did say so herself.

Here’s Brucey: This is perfect, Darcy.

Bruce had actually included a selfie of himself giving a thumbs up. It made a giggle bubble up out of her chest. Nat was next, including a picture of her sweater next to her favorite knife and a handgun with the message: They are very realistic, I’m impressed.

That was a good compliment, and it went straight to Darcy’s head.

Thor was next, and he sent a picture of Jane absolutely drowning in the large sweater, and then a close up of a tiny knitted Mjolnir.

Alien of Thunder: A most excellent representation of my hammer, lightning sister. I shall wear it with pride.

Last, she waited for Steve to get home and open his.

When it finally came in, Darcy giggled at the image of Steve wearing a knitted sweater with an eagle and a billowing flag, hands on his hips. It was a sight to be seen.

America’s Ass: I’ve never worn a more appropriate sweater.

Darcy finally wrote in the group chat: Quarantine phase I: Darcy gets bored and knits everyone a sweater.

She was met with ‘LOL’s and laughing face emojis. Life was good for today, nothing dark on the horizon, she’d made her friends happy, and she had an upcoming movie night with Steve.

Darcy settled in on her couch and got ready for a night of Adventure Time.

Darcy spent two days in her post-sweater-delivery happy mood. Two excellent days where she showered, ate three meals, did a workout, messaged all of her friends. But reality set in. She didn’t know when she’d see them again. She didn’t know when she could hug Jane or go back to work. She hadn’t talked to Tony or Pepper but she was still getting her biweekly paychecks. She felt guilty about that. She felt guilty that she wasn’t brainy enough to help fix the virus or strong enough to have fought Dr. Doom’s minions.

So she was laying on her side on the couch listening to sad music on day three after the delivery. She hadn’t showered or eaten yet and it was four in the afternoon. Her phone buzzed and she ignored it, content to wallow in her Star Trek fleece jumpsuit. Her phone may have buzzed a few more times, but Darcy didn’t pay attention. She was busy having some time to herself.

She did just that for another three days, and took notice again of her slimming figure.

“Who knew depression holes and not being hungry would be the thing that finally helped me lose weight?” She asked the universe.

Darcy had gotten another shipment of food and supplies, but she didn’t Lysol down her door or clean each item before using them this time.

And she would pay for it.

She woke up on the sixth day after the sweater delivery feeling oh so tired. Figuring it was due to the lack of sustenance and exercise, Darcy decided to make herself some toast. She barely made it out of her room before the dizziness hit her.

Darcy sent a text to the group.

What are the symptoms? Help a girl out.

She started getting responses immediately.

HawkDaddy: Fever, body aches, fatigue

Nat: Dizziness, lessened appetite

Tin Man: Runny nose, sinus congestion, vomiting

Darcy gulped from her position on the floor (she sat down in the doorway when she started getting dizzy).

How many do I have to have before I have to go see a doctor?

She groaned as she sent the message and pulled herself up, trudging into her kitchen. The thought of ingesting anything nauseated her, so she made her way back to the couch, where she promptly fell asleep.

She woke up at noon choking on her own snot.

“Fuck,” she got the word out before she stumbled into the kitchen to blow her nose. After she’d friction burned her nose by using napkins as tissues, she slowly walked back to the couch (thanks dizziness) to check her phone. Three missed video calls from Tony, one from Jane, and a lot of texts.

America’s Ass: Are you alright, Darcy?

That was not in the group, it was a separate message, so Darcy answered that with a message before looking at the group.

I woke up super tired, super dizzy. Was awake for five minutes before I passed out on the couch. Woke up a disgusting mess and had to blow my nose with napkins because I don’t own tissues. So no, probably not.

Then, she checked the group chat. It was basically a conspiracy theory contest to guess what had happened to Darcy over the past few hours. Had she passed out from sickness? Gotten annoyed and started ignoring them? Fell down the stairs? Gotten kidnapped?

She shook her head and looked down at Steve’s next text.

I’ll make you some soup. Drink lots of water and get lots of rest.

She smiled at the sentiment. Steve was really sweet. She did what he said and grabbed a cup of water before retreating to the couch and scrolling through her Facebook. She kept getting group texts, though, so she put her phone away and threw on some mindless TV.

Darcy woke up to a knock on her door. It startled her, but she figured it was probably Steve. Nobody else would risk coming into contact with another human being. Darcy shuffled over to the door in her fleece pajama pants and birthday hedgehog t-shirt (a classic pajama day outfit) and looked through the peephole. She was right, Steve was awaiting her.

“Hey Darce,” he smiled down at her when she opened the door. “How are you feeling?”

“Like garbage,” she muttered. “Please, come in,” he stepped inside with a Tupperware full of noodle soup. “Oh my god, you really made me soup?” She looked up at him with wide eyes and he smiled bashfully.

“Friends don’t let friends get sick and not have soup,” he laughed and Darcy turned, misty eyed, towards the kitchen. People didn’t often do nice things for her, that was her job.

“You’re a lifesaver, Steven,” she spoke once she’d gotten control of her emotions and ushered him towards the kitchen table. “Come, sit with me,” she groaned as she lowered herself into the chair. The body aches were coming in waves.

“How are you holding up?” He asked once the two were sitting and Darcy had a full bowl of steaming soup in front of her.

“Well I think I’ve definitely got the virus. Either that or I’ve got a serious case of the flu. But I got my flu shot this year so…” She trailed off and shrugged. Steve frowned and reached over to press the back of his hand against her forehead. She tried not to act startled at the contact. It had been… Some amount of weeks since she’d touched another person.

“You do feel warm, do you have a thermometer?” She shook her head at his inquiry and the frown deepened. She didn’t like making Steve frown.

“Is it even worth going to the doctor?” She sighed and slouched into her chair. “It’s not like they can do anything but tell me to ride it out.”

“They could always prescribe you something for the symptoms,” he shrugged, looking thoughtful. “Something for the dizziness and aches.”

“Maybe, I’ll consider it,” she took a careful spoonful of soup and frowned. “I can’t taste it. Why can’t I taste it?” She took another spoonful and looked up at Steve with wide eyes. “Is that a thing?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been keeping up with the news since it doesn’t really affect me,” he trailed off with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll ask Tony.” He whipped out his smartphone and shot a text to Tony, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“I’m so sad I can’t taste your soup,” she was full of woe. “This is a travesty,” she whined and set the spoon back down. “I wasn’t even hungry and now I can’t taste anything?” She looked up at Steve with a pout.

“You should still eat, Darcy. I know it’s not super pleasant, but you need fuel,” he offered her a sympathetic smile, and gestured for her to take another bite, which she did (albeit slowly and with less excitement). “Tony said loss of smell and taste is a common symptom,” Darcy stood abruptly, ignoring the dizziness to find her lighter and light the ocean scented candle that had been sitting on her counter for a year. She lit it without preamble and then leaned in to give it a good sniff.

“Awe, come on,” she bemoaned, looking at Steve with that rumpled kitten look that made him want to wrap her up in a blanket and cuddle her.

“No scent either, huh?” He asked and she nodded, blowing out the candle before returning to her soup. “You’ll get through this. I’d be happy to drive you to the doctor if you’re not feeling well enough to drive,” Steve offered and Darcy was struck once again by how kind this man was.

“You’re too nice, Steve. Someone’s going to snatch you up one day,” she winked conspiratorially at him. He flushed, and she smiled inwardly. “Though, I don’t have a physician. I just go to medical at the tower.”

Steve hummed in understanding. It made sense for her, she lived, ate, and worked in the tower. No need to find a physician elsewhere when she could get treated at the state of the art facilities right nearby.

“To the tower then?” He asked as Darcy took the last few bites of her soup.

“To the tower,” she confirmed.

“Would you like to go now?”

She thought for a moment.

“Let me change and grab a mask from Tony’s most recent grocery drop. And then I’ll be ready,” she wanted to rush, but moving too fast had her head spinning. So, she shuffled over to her room, one hand on the wall at all times to keep her precarious balance.

Once she was in a pair of comfy leggings and a warm sweater (this one was violet), she threw a beanie over her slightly dirty hair and slapped a mask on her face.

“I’m ready,” her voice was muffled and Steve raised his eyebrows.

“It’s summer, and you have a fever,” he was nearly chiding her and she pouted. Unfortunately, the look went unnoticed past her mask.

“I’m chilly,” she finally said and he got that worried look again.

“Come on,” he held his arm out for her to take and she latched on gratefully. The dizziness was getting to her. “I texted Tony and asked him to have someone ready at medical for us,” he spoke softly as they headed for the elevator. It was a short ride down, and not too long by the time they made it to the tower.

“Short Stack, you look severely overdressed,” Tony was also wearing a mask, maybe two by the looks of it. He eyed their linked arms and quirked an eyebrow. “What’s that about?” He wasn’t one to mince words.

“Tony, now is not the time,” Darcy grunted through her mask. “I am freezing, I am dizzy, I sneezed into this mask more than once. I need Steve to help keep me from falling over. Are we good here?” She narrowed her eyes, attempting to get her frustration across without the lower half of her face. It worked.

“Right as rain, follow me,” Darcy could see his fingers flying over his fancy phone, but couldn’t tell who he was messaging. Her phone wasn’t vibrating, so it was unlikely to be the group chat.

When they made it to medical, Steve helped Darcy into a chair and then stood there for a moment, looking out of place.

“You’re welcome to stay and sit, Steve. You could also go explore the tower or something but I am unlikely to stand up without assistance again,” she spoke quietly, and he gave her a little smile before sitting down next to her.

“Not much for me to do in the tower, what with everybody being home from work,” he shrugged. “I have been going a little stir crazy.”

“You and I both. I miss Jane and her crazy science benders. I miss all of the scientists, actually,” Darcy frowned, picking at her fingernails (a habit she’d picked up recently). “I miss family dinner nights,” she muttered and Steve nodded in agreement.

“You do make excellent dinners, and it’s nice having some off-time with the others,” he added and she smiled with her eyes.

“Thanks, Steve-o.”

It looked like he wanted to say something else (she could tell because he didn’t need to wear a mask), but doctor McCoy walked in.

“You look tired, doc,” Darcy commented. There were red lines around where his mask sat on his face, and his usually fiery eyes were dulled.

“It’s been a long few weeks, Lewis,” he countered and she nodded. “Captain Rogers,” he nodded to Darcy’s escort and the super soldier nodded back.

“Bones has been dealing with me since I moved to the tower. For all sorts of things,” Darcy explained their familiarity.

“You come here a lot?” Steve asked with a concerned laugh.

“I get into a lot of lab accidents. One time Thor hugged me too hard and bruised my ribs. Clint once fell out of the vents and onto me and gave me a head injury. For someone as robust looking as I am, I am quite fragile,” she shrugged at Steve’s bewildered look.

“Well you are only human,” Doctor McCoy noted before getting into professional mode and taking her vitals.

“Why are you called Bones?” Steve asked when he was taking Darcy’s temperature.

“It’s a nickname his college roommate gave him, you tell him doc,” Darcy smirked and the good doctor rolled his eyes.

“My wife got everything in the divorce. I got nothin left but my bones,” he sighed dramatically before announcing that she had a fever. “What other symptoms are you having?” As they got into the nitty gritty, Steve reclined in his chair and watched with interest. It seemed like Darcy had friends everywhere. In medical, in the labs, with the security team and the Avengers. Hell, he’d even seen her bring coffee down to accounting before.

“I’m gonna be straight with you, Lewis,” the doctor sighed, looking down at his notes. “There’s not much I can do for this virus but treat the symptoms and hope you ride this out. You can take this for the fever, and this for the runny nose and sneezing,” he looked up at her as he passed the post it note over. “Not much I can do for your taste, smell, and dizziness, but I’d suggest keeping in contact with your resident super soldier in case something happens,” he eyed Steve up at that, and the other man nodded his agreement. “Drink lots of water, invest in some gatorade. Don’t drink it straight, mix it half and half with water. It tastes gross but it’s better for you. Get some rest, and I suggest finding a show to binge watch until you’re feeling better.”

“Any recommendations for that, Doc?”

“I highly recommend Star Trek,” he murmured with a smile.

“And any recommendations on how to stop being so fucking depressed about this quarantine situation?” She was half joking, and the doctor chuckled.

“Damn it Lewis,” he shook his head. “I’m a doctor, not a therapist,” it actually made her laugh, and Steve was disappointed by how muffled it sounded from behind her mask.

“I’ll have to find one of those, then,” she laughed as she went to get up, holding onto the back of the chair. “Thanks for these, doc,” she waved the paper in front of her and latched onto Steve when he offered his arm again.

“Take care of yourself,” he called as the two left the room.

“He seems like a swell guy,” Steve commented and Darcy hummed.

“He is. He deserves better than what he got, but it is what it is,” she shrugged. “You ready to head home, soldier?” She looked up at him and he got the feeling she was smiling.

“Sure am,” he replied, and when they got back Darcy shooed Steve off for a little while so she could take a bath and clean up.

“Want to come over for a movie later?”

“As long as it’s not The Hunger Games again,” Steve laughed and Darcy smirked, now that her mask was off.

“What, Clint’s favorite is getting to you?”

“I’m just curious how he gets to pick every time,” Steve emphasized as he made his way to the door.

Darcy only shrugged.

“We pick based on arbitrary things. Who ate the most pop tarts this week. Who wore the least amount of yellow. Who won the prank war. Etcetera,” she shrugged.

Steve only rolled his eyes before he waved and left.

Darcy sagged. Walking around and being peppy had exhausted her. Since when did she need to recharge after socializing. When this was all over, she’d need to reacclimate to her extroverted life.

They watched Star Trek that night (the one with Chris Pine) and Darcy stayed sick for four more days. She was avidly enjoying the group chat and her Netflix subscription since she couldn’t focus enough to knit and couldn’t do much else. Steve came by often to hang out or share meals with her. Sometimes they just sat on the couch and talked. It was nice getting to know him better. She’d always had a surface relationship with him. Not in a bad way, but they were both always busy.

When she was feeling better, she knitted him a pair of comfy socks and baked him some molasses cookies in thanks. He said it wasn’t a problem, he liked spending time with her. She blushed profusely but insisted he take them.

Darcy sometimes felt so unbearably lonely and sad, feeling stuck in her own home was hard. But she checked herself and reminded herself that she was very lucky. Not everyone got to hang out with a super soldier on the daily. Someone who couldn’t get sick. It was hard to remind herself that she had it better than a lot of people. But then again, a lot of people didn’t live alone and had their families to be around. It was weird. She wasn’t sure if she should be grateful or guilty.

She talked about her conflicting feelings with Steve a week after she got better.

“I just don’t know whether I should be grateful that I have you, and that I’m not alone, or whether I should feel guilty that I still feel stuck here and lonely when I do have you. Or on the third hand, whether I should be feeling some sort of way that I haven’t picked up a new skill or started working out in the past…” She trailed off and started counting her fingers. “Nearly seven weeks?”

Steve nodded.

“Nearly seven weeks,” he said with a sigh. They were both hoping the brains of the operation would have figured out a cure or a vaccine by now. She knew they were close, but it was so hard to figure out something when you had to be so careful of working around others. “But you shouldn’t feel bad, Darcy. I mean, I feel guilty that I am not being affected the way everyone else is, but I’m still alone a lot. And I am grateful to be around you so much. I have to quarantine for everyone else’s sake in case I can carry the virus,” he shrugged. “It’s a tough situation and it’s been hard on all of us. But that doesn’t make your feelings any less valid.”

“You’re very emotionally intelligent for someone who is like… mentally around thirty,” Darcy smiled softly and Steve huffed a laugh.

“Thanks, I think. I just spent a lot of my young adult life being left out of things and having to deal with them on my own, with only Bucky,” he sighed. “You have to learn to deal with the emotional and mental side of things when physically you’re like… Five foot two and a hundred pounds soaking wet.”

Darcy let out a little laugh.

“Not relatable, dude. I mean yeah, I’m five foot three. So pretty close. But I haven’t been under a hundred pounds since middle school,” she gestured vaguely at her chest. “When I got the girls, it added like five pounds minimum,” she shook her head good naturedly and Steve chuckled.

“I couldn’t even imagine being a woman in this day and age,” he sighed.

“I couldn’t imagine being a tiny ball of rage and righteousness in the thirties and forties,” Darcy countered and they shared a laugh.

Darcy had been counting. It was July when it all started. It would be September 20th on the morrow. But Tony had texted in the group. Some students at Oxford had come up with a vaccine and were working on it with a group of American doctors and scientists.

Darcy got vaccinated in November and was back at the tower (without a mask) by December.

“Jane!” Darcy squealed when she saw her tiny boss tinkering with a machine.

“Darcy!” Unlike previous encounters where Jane would ignore her for a machine, the scientist ran over to Darcy and they embraced each other.

“Can I get in on this group hug?” Clint climbed with supreme agility from the overhead air vent.

“Naturally, you jack-booted thug,” Jane said with misty eyes and a wavering voice. The two women were suddenly enclosed in a big circle of biceps.

“I have notified Sir of the group hug. The others will be here shortly,” JARVIS spoke and Darcy giggled, happy to see all of her friends again. Soon Tony, Nat, Bruce, and Thor were all joining in. Steve walked in on it and Darcy had an idea.

“Have y’all ever heard of a cinnamon roll hug?” She broke away from the group to grab Steve’s hand and pull him towards the commotion.

“Never.”

“Nope.”

“Sounds interesting.”

She nodded at the responses. She could make it work.

“We did it in college for team bonding. Everyone hold hands and stand in a straight line,” they did as instructed, and Darcy smirked. Thor would love this.

“Thor, start rolling in. Like a cinnamon roll,” Darcy instructed and Thor rolled into Jane, hands still holding. “Now Jane, follow. And everyone roll into it,” soon they were a big circle of hands and torsos and giggles. “Now let go of your hands,” she waited a moment before giving the final instruction. “Now, hug!” They were a mess of giggles by the end of it, but with Thor at the center smiling like a dork and everyone else shaking their heads and smiling, it was worth it.

“I don’t know how you come up with this stuff,” Steve commented once it was just he and Darcy. Jane had run off to get a piece of equipment.

“I learned a lot in college, just not about anything important,” she laughed and Steve smiled down at her warmly.

“Darcy?” He asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Mmhm?” She hummed, making her way towards him.

“Now that we’re out of isolation…” He trailed off as she came to stand closer than arm’s length away from him. “Would you want to get dinner with me?” He gave her that shy half-smile and she couldn’t help but beam up at him.

“I would love nothing more.”

#darcy lewis #steve rogers #steve rogers x darcy lewis #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #shieldshock

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saphie3243 · 4 years ago

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First Solstice

For my Secret Snowflake @tomtenadia

Nesta spends her first Solstice sober in Illyria, unable to bring herself to brave the inner circle celebration for a second year in a row.

Word Count: 5500+

Read on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297182

There was something soothing about a room being so crowded it became hard to breathe. Better still when the music was so loud you can’t hear yourself think. Best when bodies are grinding, booze is flowing, and something to smoke is being passed around. Everyone was here for the same reason, everyone wanted a distraction. Amren had made several comments that she couldn’t believe Nesta got males to go home with her when she smelled like sweat and a distillery. She apparently didn’t understand that everyone smelled the same at places like this.

The band was better than usual. The music was… actually good. Maybe that’s why the bar was extra packed today. Or maybe it was because Solstice was tomorrow and no one wanted to think about all the ways they’ve disappointed their families this year.

Disappointing. The male she dragged into the bathroom was just that. He wasn’t even worth the time she wasted not getting another bottle of wine. She didn’t even let him finish before booting him out and stumbling back to her favorite stool. The bartender knows her by now and has mulled wine waiting.

It’s warm and more mulled than wine. She nodded to him. They know how to take care of her here, she certainly spends enough. Leo is decent enough to warn her off of the less than savory types that might be interested in more than even she was willing to give. She sighs back into the glass. Why she felt the need to judge herself when tomorrow she was going to get 5 times over from Feyre and insipid little family was why she needed another glass.

She turned around in her stool, facing back out, watching the crowd move in a formless mass. This band had changed over. The new one wasn’t nearly as good. Several months haunting bars and clubs to all hours in the morning had provided Nesta a proper sampling of Velaris’ bands, and, in her mind, gave her a liberty to criticize as she saw fit. This crater-faced crooner was pitchy and couldn’t move a room if he winnowed them. That earlier one had a woman out front. She was unusual for a Fae. She was beautiful, yes, but she wasn’t the wispy waif most fae women were. She was tall and built, covered in a layer of extra fat that filled out wonderful curves and jiggled when she danced. But that wasn’t what made her remarkable. Her voice took your heart by the ears and pulled you into the emotion she wanted you to feel.

“Weird compliment, but I’ll take it.”

“Lor-Cass said you weren’t going home this year,” Emerie placed the breeches she was folding into a pile of identical wares.

“I didn’t go home last year, either,” Nesta swished the black liquid in her cup as she reviewed the ledgers. Last Solstice only served to remind Nesta how much of a stranger she was to her own family, to Feyre’s new one. She would never be able to call that debacle “going home.” This year, however, she could avoid Velaris. Being banned from the city meant Feyre no longer had the ability to force her into attending farcical family meals, no matter how pissy she was about it.

She closed the books with a sigh and placed them back into a drawer. “Numbers look good.”

Emerie moved her pile of pants over to their shelf. “Thanks for looking over them, I haven’t had anyone to check my math since dad.” Nesta nodded and pulled out the books and notepads Emerie kept hidden with her accounting ledgers.

She leafed through to the furthest marked page. “You didn’t get much further last night,” she commented.

“Ah, no time, had to process a big shipment.”

“It’s fine,” Nesta muttered. 5 words underlined. Not the most, not the least. She reviewed the best-guess at the words definition in Emerie’s notebook. Most were correct. She added pronunciation guides next to some. “Macabre means bloody, gruesome.”

“Why is there an R in it?”

“Because the gods are cruel.” She heard Emerie’s answering laugh. “You’re doing well though. We can probably move on to actually writing.” She didn’t really think it would be that hard for Emerie to learn to read and write. She ran this business - she was clearly whip-smart, just uneducated. It could easily be remedied.

“In the meantime, can you answer the orders?”

This little arrangement worked out nicely. Nesta lended her books and made her literate, meanwhile she would help out with store correspondence and would review the books. Reviewing the books was less about checking Emerie’s math - that she had a natural understanding for - and more about making sure each transaction had sufficient notes.

She took another sip from her night-black liquid. The best part of Illyria, in her mind, was this coffee thing. It didn’t grow locally, needing a warmer climate for the source plant to thrive, but it had become a staple in the tribes as a way to keep troops moving with minimal sleep. Hot and bitter, it really shouldn’t have been as pleasant to drink as it was, but she found herself unable to stop.

“When does Lo- Cass head down south?”

“He should be meeting everyone Solstice morning and be back the day after.”

“What are you going to do?”

Stare at the liquor bottles he filled with water to tease me. Drink my weight in coffee and stand outside Devlon’s house at 2 am sending waves of power over the door to fuck with him until some asshole walks by and works up the balls to ask me back to their place - or die of exposure. Whatever’s first.

“Not sure, why?”

“Would you… I don’t know… want to spend tomorrow with… me?” Emerie had approached the table, tapping her fingers with each phrase. Nesta looked her up and down. If it was anyone else, she would have thought Cassian put her up to it. But she was also alone for the holidays, and Nesta knew that was probably a much bigger deal for the Illyrian than it was for her. She had mentioned once that she didn’t have many people since her father died. Adding in that Emerie didn’t do anything she didn’t want to do... If she was asking, it was because she wanted to spend this day with Nesta.

She smiled at her friend, “Come over whenever.”

___

Dinner was hot and ready when she came in. Cassian always made sure that their meals were piping. His own way of combating the awful wet cold of Illyria. She had to wonder if part of it also had to do with keeping the fires low in the house.

Nesta kicked off her boots by the door and carried them to the fireplace. She set them down next to Cassian’s - the secret to warm feet, he’d said. Their coat rack was also by the fireplace for similar reasons. She gently felt the socks left hanging there- warm, thank the Wall. She pulled off her damp knits and left them in a pile on the floor while pulled on the fresh clothes. They went up to hang immediately after.

“Do you need to take every peg? Emerie’s store is only 5 minutes away,” Cassian called from across the house. He was standing in the kitchen with two bowls of stew.

“Five minutes flying, 25 walking,” she turned to him. “Through a foot and a half of snow.”

She pointed to the bottom of her dress and the crust of ice that had formed there. He grimaced.

“I would have picked you up if you asked.”

“Unnecessary.” She pulled the dress over her head and left it to hang on the coat rack. After months of living together, they had long overcome the initial discomfort with mild nudity. Not that she was anywhere near naked. She still had the chemise that ended at her knees, her wool sleeves, her knitted belly warmer, and a double layer of wool hose. She was more covered than either Amren or Morrigan on any given day. Finally in only dry clothes, she marched over the kitchen and took the bowl from Cassian.

Four months of living with Cassian in Illyria was… surprisingly easy. The mountains were peaceful, simple. The way of life here is more similar to the human society she grew up with than the magical speed of Velaris. Emerie was a pleasant discovery. She still wanted a drink, desperately, but the biting cold had a similar numbing effect if you stood out in it long enough. The worst part was being dragged out of bed at dawn for “training”. Though her training was less about learning to fight herself and more about standing around the training rink terrifying males while Cass tried to teach little girls to throw a punch.

Coincidently she hadn’t gotten laid in 4 months either.

“As much as I love seeing you in your underwear, you do have very nice, very warm leathers.”

“Bite me,” she said as she shoveled food in her mouth. She had made it this long avoiding putting those damn things on. She wasn’t going to cave now. No matter how much imagining the fur lining made her whimper.

He smiled down at her, making a point of flashing his teeth. “Gladly.” Whatever mischief was running through his thoughts cleaned itself up as he changed subjects. He was the other surprise. The animosity between them was turned down to a polite simmer. Oh they still bickered, and they flirted. They never said it, and God willing never would, but any edges of disgust in their banter had long been smoothed by fondness. “Az will be picking me up at 7 tomorrow. If you change your mind about coming with me, be ready to go then.”

“I won’t,” she answered, choosing not to tell him that she would be spending the day with Emerie.

Surprisingly, he didn’t push.

“Oh good, you’re up. I’m making breakfast, if you want.”

Nesta woke up in a bed that was far too clean to be her own. Her head ached, her throat was dry, and she was naked. She sat up and took in her surroundings. This room was not hers. She had less furniture and more piles of shit everywhere. She was trying to figure out how she got there when the door opened and a woman came wandering in.

Nesta recognized her as soon as she spoke and finally recalled the night prior. She was the singer for that band. They chatted each other up at the bar for hours, getting progressively drunker. By the time the bar closed they stumbled home - going to hers because it was closer. They jumped each other as soon as the door closed. It was a new experience for Nesta, being with a woman. And it was good. The singer sounded as lovely when she came as she did when she belted.

Staying for breakfast would be nice. Something real in her stomach to soak up the alcohol was very needed. And if she played it right, there was a chance for as lovely a morning as there was a night.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Nesta waited until her partner had left the room before she pulled on her dress and snuck out the window.

Lovely wasn’t what she deserved.

___

No training didn’t mean that Nesta didn’t wake up at first light. It just meant she didn’t need to get dressed. Part of the initial torture of first arrival was learning that Cass put her in an east facing room with larg windows on the walls - and refused to let her have curtains. Privacy apparently wasn’t as important as making sure she didn’t have oversleeping as an excuse.

She swore at the sun, as she did every morning, and felt around in the bed next to her. Before getting out from under the covers, she pulled on her fluffy robe. This little trick she learned back in the hut. Sleep with the clothes you’re going to wear if you want them to be warm in the morning.

She trudged out to the main room and kitchen, beginning the process of preparing breakfast. Another rule of the house, if you are up first, you cook first. Same for dinner and coming home. Lunch they were on their own. There was a housemaid when she first arrived, but… she didn’t last long. She found the tea kettle and set about making hot water while she poured oats into bowls. From their icebox - a box they just left sealed outside to let winter keep cold - she pulled out a package of cured bacon. The kettle whistled, and she used the entire batch to steep the coffee. The next round of water was for the oatmeal.

The shadows between the windows grew and darkened. Before he even stepped out, Nesta greeted him.

“I’m making coffee. Get a cup if you want some.”

“Thank you. I’ll take bacon, too, if you don’t mind.”

“It’s Cass’s money,” she answered, adding three more pieces to the griddle.

Azriel was the only one from Velaris that visited with any sort of regularity, mostly due to how closely he needed to work with Cassian. He would come up about once a week for updates or meetings or to winnow Cass somewhere. He had begun to make a habit out of arriving early to chat with Nesta. Sometimes he just came up to hang out with them. He probably only came up to spend time with Cassian, but since she was usually around, they included her.

No one else from the Inner Circle bothered to visit. Rhysand and Feyre came up once, but that… did not end well. Elain felt too guilty to come see the sister whose banishment she had consented to. Morrigan wasn’t even on the island, so it wasn’t a surprise she didn’t stop by. And Amren… Amren was keeping her vow to not speak to Nesta until she apologised to Morrigan. Something Nesta still didn’t think she needed to do.

Morrigan spent 4 nights a week at a gay bar. How the fuck was Nesta supposed to know she wasn’t out?

“Elain asked me to bring this,” he conjured a set of books and hand-knitted socks into existence, placing both onto the table while pouring himself a cup. The books were tied together with ribbons and decorated with small bows, clearly meant to be her Solstice present. The socks - well, Elain had taken up knitting sometime in the last year and had Azriel deliver a pair every time he visited.

“Why didn’t she just ask Cassian to bring it back with him?” Nesta scooped some brown sugar into her oatmeal.

The ever so slight blush on his cheeks told her what his answer did not. “She wanted to make sure you had a present for the holiday.”

“Because she knows how much I care about holidays,” and it had nothing at all to do with you leaving from her room this morning and it seeming convenient at the time. They wanted to be discrete, and Nesta accepted that - no matter how bad they were at hiding it. She poured in the hot water into her breakfast and stirred. “Any messages with that present?”

“The bacon looks done.”

“Azriel.”

He sighed. “No.”

Nesta tightened her jaw and moved the bacon from the stove to a plate, allowing him to have a piece. She wasn’t sure if she was more pissed that he didn’t have a message or that she was still hoping he would. Either way she was going to play it off. “I’m surprised they didn’t have you hock me about going, too.”

Az cocked his head. “Cass made it pretty clear you weren’t ready for that.” She snapped up at him.

“And what was his barometer for knowing if I was ready?” She sneered.

But Az only shrugged, well accustomed to playing referee for Cassian and Nesta by now. “You not wanting to go.”

Nesta was still thinking about Azriel’s answer by the time Emerie came over. She couldn’t decide if Cassian was being a presumptive ass or if he was being genuinely considerate. He had a habit of being both interchangeably. Like when he finally made his way to the kitchen, fully dressed and demanding breakfast. He added in some last minute jabs about coming back early if she got lonely as Az winnowed away with him. And even through the mocking tone, the message was clear. “If you don’t want to be alone, just say the word and I’ll come back.”

He still didn’t know she was spending today with Emerie then.

“Do you not own any decorations or do you just not like them?” she asked, looking around the room.

“What decorations?” Nesta strained in her thoughts, there was a lot of extra shit in Feyre’s living room last year…

“Solstice decorations.You know, candles, holly, garlands,” Emerie explained. It sounded like what Feyre had up - and what most of Velaris had up - but in all honesty she was not sober enough last year to make the connection that it was for the holiday and wasn’t just some seasonal nonsense. Emerie squinted at her and placed a wrapped box on the table. Presents!

Fuck. That’s right. Fae exchange presents on the Solstice.

“I honestly don’t know.”

Emerie squinted at her. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

Nesta shrugged. “Humans don’t have holidays.” At most they had festivals, but they were distinctly not holidays, just an excuse to drink and dance with as many strangers as possible. The closest thing they had to a formal holiday was Treaty Day, and even that was not the intimate affair this seemed to be. She hadn’t even heard of a Solstice dinner until Feyre asked her to go last year.

“How do you not have holidays?” she asked.

“Holidays used to be very dangerous days to be human.” There were plenty of horror-stories around the suffering of human slaves on religious days. Whether they were being traded as gifts or killed as sacrifices... even if the stories were exaggerations, it led to whole-sale rejection of everything religious by human society.

“So you know nothing about solstice?” Emerie placed a hand on her hip.

“It is the longest night of the year.”

Emerie made it her mission to instruct Nesta on the finer points of an Illyrian solstice. First and foremost, every 5 years it was the last day of the Blood Rite. The theme of doing battle still continued in the other years, most tribes had hunts or tournaments for the men to mark the occasion. Women were expected to work the day to prepare for the night. The night of the Solstice was the only true peace Illyria ever saw. Solstice nights were for feasting, music, and dancing. Fighting after dark was strictly forbidden. Gifts were expected between families, friends, and especially rivals. It symbolized an acceptance that though Illyrians may compete with one another, they were still members of one army.

“Does this tribe have a tournament?” Nesta asked. Cassian hadn’t mentioned anything about it, or a feast afterwards, but he might not have thought her interested. Or ready, she thought ruefully.

“Devlon hosts a melee tournament. Puts all the entrants in the ring together and waits to see who comes out. The large feast at the end is prepared by entrant’s families,” Nesta knew she meant women in those families, “For the entrants and their families. Dad didn’t enter, so we would just watch the tournament and then spend the night at home.”

“Do you want to watch the tournament this year?”

“Yeah but you’re still in your pajamas,” Emerie laughed.

She watched by the door as Nesta dressed in her warmest clothes. Watching men fight on her day off wasn’t exactly Nesta’s idea of a good time. But Emerie wanted to go. And Cassian had tried to make the decision of whether or not she should go by not telling her about it, so that in and of itself made her want to go. Because neither were entering, and certainly neither were cooking, they wouldn’t be able to attend the feast after. But that’s just as well. A night back at the house with hot drinks and Cassian’s pantry seemed just fine to both of them.

The tournament took place in the training rings. Normally the 5 or so rings were roped off from one another, allowing different ages and skill levels to train separately. But today Devlon had taken down the separators, providing an obnoxiously large space for his melee. But it was needed. It seemed every one of Devlon’s soldiers signed up for the tournament. About 200 competitors, ranging from small boys to grown men. There were even some father-son pairs helping each other warm up in the ring.

Outside the rings, there was yet another crowd of voyeurs. Women and girls taking breaks from their preparations to watch, the merchant families - like Emerie’s, and the men too old and frail to compete anymore. Standing at the head of it all was Devlon, a poor-man’s Cassian. He caught wind of them walking up and immediately flared at the sight of Nesta before turning back to the tournament. Being a witch in Illyria had certain perks. Devlon’s apprehension being only part of it. The crowd parting for them, allowing them to stand at his side and have the best view, was another.

“Soldiers!” Devlon called as he stepped forward. All 200 men turned to him at attention, well trained by now. “You know the rules. No siphons, no weapons, no flying, no killing. You fall, you’re out. You yield, you’re out. You get knocked out of the ring, you’re out. The last men standing at sunset wins.” He raised his arm in the air, making it visible to all. He took one last look around the ring, took a breath, and dropped his arm and stepped back as he bellowed, “Lay on!”

The chaos was immediate. One of the younger kids, there without a father to hold them up, fell immediately. The rest were at each other's throats, kicking, punching, wrestling. Part of her was worried that the battle-royale would be too similar to the war. But without the clang of steel and the geysers of blood, she found this was more similar to the crowded dance halls in Velaris. Devlon, now standing next to the girls, kept his eyes on the mock-battle as he spoke. “I thought you’d be with Cassian today.”

“And miss a battle royale? Honestly Devlon, do you know me at all?” She smiled at him, relishing how he flinched at her grin. “Can’t help but notice none of the girls are competing.”

His jaw tightened. “The Solstice melee is not training. It’s tradition.”

“Now you said the same thing about the girls training, too, did you not?” Nesta had no interest in ever learning how to fight herself, and didn’t really care if girls trained or not. But there was a difference between choosing not to do something and not being allowed to do something.

“If Lord Cassian wants to insert his views here as well, he should be here to do it himself.” The harsh words were undercut by the bead of sweat racing down his cheek. He wasn’t wrong. That was part of the reason Cass was stationed up here full time. Changing the rules around women required full time intervention. In Nesta’s mind, it also required more input from the women, but that was a discussion for another time.

“Maybe next year,” Nesta yawned. She watched the battle progress. After the initial early eliminations, they had plateaued into a minor stalemate. Some alliances also became clear. Groups of friends or families fighting together, watching each other’s back, catching each other before they fell. She didn’t cheer as the crowd or Emerie did. Rather, her and Devlon seemed to be the only calm people there.

Then… something odd happened. One of the teenage boys fell suddenly. He didn’t seem to get hit particularly hard, for one. And secondly, he didn’t get back up. Both Devlon and Nesta leaned forward, looking closer. She saw it first, sniffed it out. Blood. The boy had been hit in the side and was bleeding from the wound.

“Devlon,” she said very carefully.

“I know, I didn’t see who did it.”

“We need to get him out.”

“His friends will get him out.”

She held her breath, watching. No one came. She hadn’t been watching him particularly, but she didn’t remember him teaming up like the others. The way they walked around him… “He doesn’t have friends,” she snarled. Even Emerie gulped as Nesta’s anger stirred the well of her power. Cass told her stories. Back when the shakes and cold sweats were unbearable, he stayed up with her and told stories, trying to distract her through it. Trading one dark truth for another. She told him about watching her mother die, he told her that he was alone for years until Rhys. A bastard that was left to fend for himself, potentially to die if he wasn’t strong enough. From the way they walked over this kid, he was the same. She needed to get him out of there. He was bleeding out and no one was doing a damn thing about it.

“We cannot interfere with the melee,” Devlon said, “it’s against the rules.”

“So is weapons, but someone clearly has a knife,” she spat. Devlon didn’t say anything to that. He just kept scanning the make-shift battlefield, searching. “There!” he shouted, and his green siphon flashed. Another teenager was plucked into the air by his wings. He kicked and thrashed, a small knife in his fist. Devlon pulled the kid to him, releasing his magic’s grip and decking as asshole as he got in range. The boy went down with just that one hit.

But the first boy was still out there. He was still bleeding out. Alone in a crowd. He was going to die. He was going to die in this little mock battle where killing was strictly forbidden. Was this why Cassian didn’t tell her about it? Did he have holidays like this? Did older boys gang up on him and try to kill him without anyone noticing? Was he left alone to bleed on his own?

“Nesta!”

Emerie’s voice was farther away than it should have been, and muffled by a crowd of idiots fighting with one another. She wasn’t entirely sure how she got here, but Nesta was standing over the fallen boy. As they registered her presence, one by one the soldiers stopped. “The witch.” “It’s the witch.” “Why is the witch here?” She ignored them all, kneeling down to the injured. He was pale and grimacing, having lost a lot of blood - still losing it, actually. The knife had gotten him just below the ribs, catching who knows which organs. Without another word she picked him up, allowing his head to rest against his shoulder and his body to rest on her torso.

She turned back to Emerie and Devlon, one watching with concern, the other pissed as hell. She stepped towards them, slowly, carefully. She didn’t want to jostle the kid’s injuries more than necessary. No one came near her as she walked out of the ring. At first she thought it was the same as the audience, that they were simply afraid of the witch. But a glance around gave her a different answer.

Her power extended around her in a sphere, creating barriers of ethereal flowing silver. The grass around her withered and died, and no man here wanted to see what would happen if they touched the walls of silver flames. When she got to the edge of the ring, the rope touched her power and rotted to nothing. She didn’t know how this boy still lived in her arms, but he was still breathing- barely. She spoke to both Devlon and Emerie.

“He needs a healer.”

“I’ll find Marta and have her meet you at the house.”

Nesta nodded to her friend and turned to walk the familiar path to Cassian’s house, her power dying down as she crossed the threshold.

Marta arrived at the same time she did. They set the kid down on the kitchen table as the old woman got to work. The boy did get stabbed, but only in the liver. It took longer than Nesta would have thought, certainly longer than the battlefield-healing she remembered from the war, but Marta was able to stabilize him and stitch him up. She left them with instructions to make sure the boy didn’t get infected or pop a stitch in the night.

“Not how you planned to spend the Solstice, I’m guessing?” Nesta asked.

Emerie tilted her head, “No but seeing every warrior in the village piss himself is worth it.” She slumped down on the couch. “We have a moment, want to open your present?” she gestured to the box on the table.

“Y-yeah, just let me grab yours.” Nesta ran back to her room. She grabbed the stack of books Elain bought her, still wrapped from this morning. Definitely a faux paus, but she would never know.

Nesta came back out with the present and set it in front of Emerie. “Happy Solstice.” The look of awe and excitement was worth it. As Emerie began to untie the books, Nesta began to unwrap her present. Under the paper was a long, thin box. She unlidded it to find a set of leather and wood hair pins - Illyrian style hair pins, made to not get cold in winter.

“Thank you,” she said, still admiring the etching on the leather thong.

“I’d thank you but, I think mine goes to Elain.”

“What?” Nesta whipped her head up to see the first book open on the table and Emerie holding a hand written note. She was clearly reading it but let Nesta snatch it from her anyway.

“So should I let you borrow the books or-”

“Shush.” Emerie laughed and paged through the first novel as Nesta read the note.

Dear Nesta,

I know you are still upset with me, and with Feyre, for sending you away. And you are right to be upset. You were there for me, after the Cauldron and after Grayson. You held our family together after Feyre left. And when you needed us, needed me, I didn’t know how to help.

I don’t know if it is the power or just my own knowledge of you, but I knew there was nothing I could do. I knew that if I tried to help, I would only fail. And that is not an excuse. Fear of failure does not make not trying ok, but it is what I did. And I am sorry.

I know putting this in a letter hidden in a book is still the coward’s way, but I don’t think I could face you if I didn’t apologize first. I hope to have Azriel take me for a visit after the Solstice if you would have me.

Your sister,

Elain

___

They stayed up most of the night, playing cards, reading, and watching over the boy. Nesta had planned to stay up the full night, but using her power that day and waking up at 6 am had taken its toll. She found herself drowsing into her cards. Around 3am, Emerie sent Nesta to bed, agreeing to stay up and keep watch. Nesta’s head barely hit the pillow before she was out.

She woke in darkness. Not odd for her. Waking up in the middle night was fairly common. But when she looked to her window, she saw that it was not night. There was sunlight shining behind the makeshift curtain someone had thrown over her window. She pushed herself up. Who?

“You’re up.”

She turned her attention to the chair on the other side of her bed. Cassian sat there, watching over her with an indecipherable expression. She sat up.

“When did you get home?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. It was down and knotted, unusual for him. There were bags under his eyes. “Last night, before dawn. Az brought me back,” he brought his hands together and looked at her. “Emerie told me what happened. You lost control again.”

“How’s the boy?”

“Petros is fine. I moved him to my room to sleep off the rest of the potion the healer gave him.”

“That’s good.”

“No, you couldn’t,” his hands gently reached out and lifted her face to look at him. “Why couldn’t you?”

Cassian moved to the bed, sitting next to Nesta. “You lost control for him.”

“I-I couldn’t just let him bleed out,” she explained, staring at a spot on the bedspread.

Because he reminded me of you. She didn’t know if she said the words out loud or not. But Cassian’s answering kiss was so soft, so gentle, so sweet, she didn’t care. She responded to his kiss in kind, her hand cupping his face, finally feeling those perfectly chiselled cheekbones. His tongue passed over her lower lip and she opened for him, inviting him deeper. She met his tongue with her own and wrapped her hands around the back of his head, pulling him closer. He grinned through the kiss, gently placed his hand on her shoulders, and pushed her back down on the bed.

It was the first time Nesta stayed for breakfast after.

___________

Tagging potential readers:

@perseusannabeth

#secret snowflake #Nesta Archeron #Nessian #Cassian #post Acowar #post acofas #elain archeron #emerie #Nesta and Emerie will be besties if it kills me #Nesta and Cassian adopt that kid.#Potato-burp is ask-able tumblr #so that one is in the exchange.#but my writing goes here so here we are #never posted fic directly to tumblr before.#weird

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