#He'd Have a Nonexistent Heart Attack

[starlitscars]

Made of ice

Jackson era! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: One stormy night in the safety of Wyoming, it occurs to Joel that even though life has turned his heart into a slab of ice, there's a soft, melting spot buried deep inside... Only reserved for you.

Word count: 5.2k

Masterlist

Tags/warnings: MDNI, NSFW, implied age gap, canon-typical violence, Joel Miller needs his own warning, protective! Joel, soft! Joel, angst, fluff, smut, finger sucking, fingering, pet names, praise kink, language, no use of y/n, soft dom! Joel, negative thoughts, dea*h wish, self-doubt, self-confidence issues, Joel is a sweetheart here (but he doesn't think he's worthy of peace), rain, lots of rain, lightning, stormy weather, kinda established relationship, let me know if a tag has gone unnoticed.

Author's note: This is my very first attempt at writing for Joel Miller. I've had the idea in my mind for a few weeks now and it's hard to resist when it comes to him (did I say Pedro Pascal?) So I hope the details are accurate and if you decide to read this one shot, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it. If you want to be mutuals, I'll be more than glad <3

Divider by: saradika-graphics

Made of ice

You should've seen what you made of him.

The calm, slow beats in his chest are strikingly different from how he remembers them. In fact, he vaguely recalls the way those racing, dreadful patterns had carved themselves into his memory. With a rigid heart made of ice, it was nearly impossible to find the pulse in him, even at his most frightened, disappointed state. 

Joel used to walk into the face of danger with a rifle clutched in his dying grip, a life to save and thousands to destroy, and in all those moments any sign of life was nonexistent in him. There used to be rage, hatred, regret, and frustration... Oh lots of frustration, running through the veins in his body. He used to walk, talk, and breathe. But he wasn't alive.

Now he doesn't find it in himself to call it miracle. But somewhere between the lines, you happened. You happened and fuelled the dying fire in the far corner of his heart. He used to keep it empty and dark, like a deserted house with no furniture, a perfect place for the noises in his head to become loud and maybe help him stand the never-ending days of what everyone called life. 

You entered his life and now most of what he feels in these old veins is warmth, safety and attachment. Yes, he doesn't call it miracle, because his past doings are too  stained and unforgivable to deserve a miracle. To deserve you. The real miracle. The fathomable idea of what it feels to be alive.

Joel feels alive.

Some days, it feels like his wretched past is clawing its way back into his mind, calling those demons to end his days of peace with you. Some nights, he's restless... So terribly restless. What if you get injured on your next patrol? What if the Raiders attack you when you're out of the gates of Jackson? What if something bad happens to you the moment his eyes close? What if these damn what ifs come to life? This old mind tricks him into seeing pictures of what has never happened and probably never will. You always assure him that you'll be careful. He trusts you and your abilities, but he does not trust his fears. Because if life is too good, it scares him. 

It scares Joel Miller, way more than it would if he was trapped in a dark room with all of his fears and demons creeping on the cold hard floor towards him. He'd rather spend every day fighting off the Clickers and Raiders and every nasty threat out there, instead of pacing around the room and waiting to see if your patrols end well or not.

So he has no choice but to either convince Tommy to pick him as your patrol partner every damn time you have to do it – which he makes sure is as limited as possible – or occasionally keep an eye on you from a distance and let his thoughts consume him at the same time. Just like what he's doing now. 

His persistence in being close to you tends to earn him annoyed eye rolls and "She's more capable than that, Joel." comments from his brother... almost all the time. But he simply can't help it, and he thinks that you know it. Because you never complain nor haul him over the coals for his instincts and worries and the immense amount of care his rigid heart feels for you. He's silently thankful for that understanding.

You are safe here, he thinks. Even though he feels restless, his heartbeat has never been this calm. He sits and watches you on nights like this and there's only one thought ringing in his head. All the scolding is worth it. You're sprawled out peacefully on the bed. His bed. It must be straight out of a fucking impossible dream. You're here, in his atmosphere, in his menacing, guilty, dark presence... And you have chosen it knowingly. It's all he can ever ask for. 

The dim moonlight is swimming in through the curtains, casting a soft, silvery shadow over your face. Your hair is falling all around you like you're knowingly doing it... Posing for an artist just to paint this delicate beauty on a canva. 

Despite his bitter mood, a content smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Tearing his gaze from you, he downs the remaining whiskey and silently places the empty glass on the table, deciding that he needs a short walk to free his troubled mind. One morning, Maria woke up and decided that Joel needs to stay behind and help Tommy in fixing the issues in the town's only library. So you should have another partner for your patrol days for god knows how long. He fucking hates being told what to do. He fought tooth and nail to prevent that, and if you weren't there to stop him, he would as well turn the mess hall into another ruin that needed to be fixed – which only meant more time away from you. 

So it's going to take only two weeks, at worst. Only a terrible fortnight before things go back to normal. It's almost unbelievable how you have managed to awaken a sense of normalcy in him that he hasn't known in decades. Your absence is an instant threat to this normal life.

Maybe it's about time he gets used to it. He's not that weak. He shouldn't let his angers and worries run him. More importantly, he shouldn't ruin your much needed sleep with his usual problems right now. You've still got the weekend. He'll take a walk and be back here before you as much as stir in your deep slumber.

Oh. The damn library.

...

Jackson is eerily quiet in the middle of the night, enveloped by darkness and as isolated as it can be in this corner of the world. It's a stark contrast to how busy the whole community is during the daylight – bustling with happy greetings, careless jokes, movie days, small parties, and lots of work to do. It all asks for social interaction and he deeply hates it.

He hates when every passer-by's attention turns to you every time you step out in the open. He hates how prying eyes rove up and down your frame every time you walk into the bar. He hates how... He shakes his head, almost rolling his eyes at the loudness of these thoughts. Joel has to remind himself that he is the one you hold onto and introduce to everyone in every social gathering. The proud gleam in your eyes always placates him. There's no need to break a jaw in this town... Perhaps.

Lights flicker by the porches and the sound of his boots on the ground is the only sound that disturbs the silence. The sky is clouding over, distantly promising another stormy night in its gloomy wake. Occasional flashes of lightning light up the road and before Joel knows it, he's passing by the Tipsy Bison. It's 3 past midnight, no wonder why its doors are locked and closed. Either way he comes to a halt, letting the gears turn in his head as he opts for a very familiar path.

Your house. It's a short walk away from the bar.

Joel still recalls that day. How long has it been? Five, six, seven months? It feels like yesterday to him.

He'd had a terrible conversation with Tommy, not at all the way he'd planned it on his first day in Jackson. Things got heated up pretty quickly, leaving a bitter taste of rejection lingering on his tongue, the burn of the whiskey only worsening his mood.

"Just because life stopped for you, doesn't mean it has to stop for me..."

The words were ringing in his head as he stormed out of the bar. Shrugging his jacket on, all he wanted was to walk as far away from that area as possible. This affronted, begrudging, irrational sting was boiling in him and in that moment he was more than ready to leave the gates of Jackson even if it called for more danger. Life had really ended for him years ago, but to hear it from Tommy right after the hell he'd went through to find him... It really hurt. 

The pain was resurfacing in rapid tides.

If his boots could dig deeper, get stuck in the snow and propel him into the cold biting blanket of the earth, he'd welcome it. If life had really ended for him, he had to make it make sense by ending himself as well. This... There was this distant melody echoing in the air and cutting through his troubles thoughts. The wind was harsh against his ears, and each step brought the melody closer. 

It really could be the last song that played before his funeral.  

Joel was surrounded by all the colors, and all he could see was white, eyes fixed on the ground. He didn't pay much attention as he bumped into someone. He barely lifted his head to apologize, and then his gaze settled on the crackling fire on the left side of the road. 

Red and orange and yellow hues. It was a fresh contrast. His eyes were hurting from all the white snow.

He came to a halt, mindlessly waving at the person he'd bumped into. A dozen of kids had gathered around the burning logs in a barrel on the porch, rubbing their hands together and listening to the same melody he was entranced by. The same melody that he thought would be his burial hymn.

Joel's eyes followed their excited faces, wondering who they were looking at. He saw you mirroring their hopeful gleams first, and then he registered the guitar on your lap. 

To make the matters worse, you had tilted your head, shooting him a funnily quizzical look. He might've looked weird back then. The town's newcomer, with a permanent scowl on his face, maybe plotting murder as well (considering that it was the main topic in all the words that already flew around about him).

He didn't answer, still dead in his tracks as if he was immobilized by some invisible force. So you shifted in your seat, silently offering him a spot among the children as if to say "You can come over and join us."

He had two choices in that moment, either a polite decline was on the table or a dismissive frown. He looked over his shoulder at the bar and finally opted for the third choice – or so his mind created another choice for him – and he nodded, joining in on your little gathering without as much as saying a word. He really wanted to hear that song.

He never asked whether you knew the words to that song, but that night when he lay in bed and his thoughts were far from the idea that he wanted to bury himself in the snow, he vaguely remembered the lyrics. And it hit him hard, like a punch to the gut.

Yeah, I don't want to hurt

There's so much in this world 

To make me bleed

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Stay with me

You're all I see

He wanted to ignore how the words affected him in the middle of the night. It was the first night he could feel some semblance of peace, not sleeping with an eye open in case someone attacked them. Ellie was safe in another room. So he really considered that. He considered the possibility of staying. He was relatively new to the community... And so damn unaccustomed to the whole arrangement. He almost woke up the next morning and started packing before he remembered where he was.

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Those words stuck with him.

And his first encounter with you was a harbinger of different things to come.

One day of patrolling with you led to another, one night of inviting you for a drink led to another. One peaceful afternoon in the stable led to another. One gloomy evening in the clinic did not lead to another. He was way too protective of you to let that happen again.

He truly feels lucky. You could be anywhere else, better off if you picked anyone other than this grumpy, old man. And yet you still want him. You silly girl. You've melted his heart with your warmth. 

But he's like a lake, deserted in the middle of a haunted forest and engulfed in coldness. Even though the center is warm and gooey, he keeps the surface frozen and rigid and menacing. Hard enough to keep his instincts sane and alarmed. Cold enough to let everyone know that you're his and he will not fucking share. 

Lightning strikes again in the sky.

He lifts himself up and off your front stairs with a heavy grunt. An hour has passed since he left for a walk. The clouds have fully gathered in the sky and he thinks that he should be by your side now.

Joel really cares little for the details, always asking Tommy and Ellie to spare him the explanation and get straight to the point. But with you, it's hard to forget a couple of things. One night, a few weeks ago, you were pulling him past the threshold of your house. So adorably drunk and inviting. He was still a little pissed by how the rainstorm had ruined your nightly walk. Despite your complaints about sharing a kiss in the rain, he'd dragged you back to the nearest shelter possible, because he just didn't want to get fucking soaked. Joel didn't find it romantic at all. He was frowning, still pinning you against the wall for a begrudgingly needy kiss. You giggled into his mouth, playful fingers pocking at his chest. "Come on Joel. Let yourself enjoy it... All these neverending drops on the roof, the fresh earthy scent that comes after it... It's just really beautiful. One of the few things that kept me sane before I came here..." 

He's not really against the idea. But the changing weather doesn't bode well with him. One day is sunny, and the next is rainy and it just goes to show how he has no power over the situation.

Hell. A part of Joel is really terrified of the changing weather. One day it was scorching hot, and the next his boots crunched against the white blankets of neverending snow, reprimanding him for his carelessness. Time would pass whether he wanted to or not. He is still terrified, wishing he could stretch the time he could spend with you. God knows he wants an eternity with you. 

He has seen enough rain for a lifetime. He hasn't seen you enough. How could he enjoy getting soaked in tiny drops of water when all he wanted was to bury his face in the crook of your neck and stay there for a while – maybe forever and a little more?

But he has considered it since then. If there are a few things that keep you happy and rainy days have to be one of them, he'll give you that. He'll get used to that. There's no pattern with the rainfall in here, and the weather forecast is pretty much nonexistent. He has promised himself to tell you whenever it rains, even though he despises the idea of you catching a cold after minutes or hours of dancing in the cold, letting droplets of water wash over you without a care in this wretched world. 

He also despises the idea of waking you up.

But he knows you'll like it. You careless, adorable girl. He lives to see that excited gleam in your eyes. Everytime you show it, this old heart pounds impatiently in his chest and it all feels like the first time it has happened.

He's back home in no time. 

So, kicking his boots off as silently as possible, he trudges over and settles down by the edge of the bed, suppressing a low groan. His knees still ache from all the never-ending effort he's put in repairing the library over the past few days. Jesus, he just wants it to be done as soon as possible. It feels like he's losing so much time when he's away from you. Now that you're still pretty much asleep in the same position he last saw you, all Joel wants is to lie down by your side and melt in your warm embrace instead of having to fight with his thoughts and the world to not take away yet another precious piece of him. He can't afford to even think about losing you.

Each flash of lightning illuminates the contours of your beautiful face and he can't help himself when he lifts a hand and lets his knuckles gently stroke your cheek. Your lips are parted ever so slightly and you look so innocent in your unconscious dream. He almost backs down, part of him hoping that it rains throughout the day, just so he doesn't guilt trip himself for the pout on your face if you miss it. You need to rest.

As if you sense his hesitation, you stir in bed and lean into his touch. A low hum escapes you, and Joel is too weak to deny himself the softness it brings. His wounded knuckles are soon replaced with a calloused thumb and he wonders what's so interesting about these hands that never ceases to catch your attention.

One night at the bar, Joel had caught you actually staring at them and when he teased you a little about it, you just shrugged and grinned mischievously. "I mean... I just like them so much. Your hands are always warm, and... and that's all."

He shrugged it off that night. Ellie had also considered it a flex for him to have warm hands even in the coldest days of winter, but with you and the way you looked at him... It was different. He knew it was more than that. 

And when the nights he shared with you went further than his sinful thoughts had planned, you showed him that it was more than that. It was more than the warmth you found there. If anything, your helpless whimpers were an indication of how capable and strong these hands were.

Heat blooms in his chest. It simply is endearing. The way you always seem to recognize his touch and send his head spiraling with the idea that you want him to do more. You've never been afraid of him. You've never pushed him away. You've never judged him for the horrible things he's done. Jesus, it should terrify him. Joel should've pushed you away at some point, because he knows you'd be better off without him, but how could he muster the strength to do so? Since that fateful moment on your porch, your presence keeps on inviting him for more. More than simply existing. And God, if you knew how he wants to do more than that every second of the day... Only if the world lets him breathe a little.

There's another bolt of lightning and raindrops finally begin to drum against the window pane.

Joel shakes his head to get rid of those worrisome ideas. Propping himself on one elbow, he leans over ever so slightly and lets his thumb trace its way to your chin, up to your jawline, and then back to the soft skin on your cheek. He draws circles over the blooming flush and then his thumb is traveling down to your lower lip. Your mouth parts just a little more, breathing even and content and if he gets a grip on himself, he may notice that there's a ghost of a smile in there as well.

"Baby..." He whispers softly, his gaze drifting all over your adorable face. You really are a piece of art, tangled in the sheets, in the safety of his house, and your innocent hums are doing something to him. Some obscene voice that silently pleads for more. More and more... Just to give you more. 

You stir a little more.

He leans over and places a gentle kiss on your forehead, the sweet, fruity scent he's come to like a lot about you engulfing his senses. He watches every little movement with amusement. "My sweet baby... You want to see what's waitin' for you outside."

"Joel," you mumble sleepily, voice drowsy and laced with a hint of confusion as you rub your eyes and stretch your arms before looking around the dark room with a quizzical expression on your face. It doesn't take long for the realization to hit you and the familiar gleam in your gaze makes him smile. You stare a him, wide-eyed. "is it- again?"

He chuckles and gestures at the window. "Yes, a heavy one at that."

Again, there's that hum of delight as you follow his gaze. The pitter-patter of the rain cheers you up like a lollipop would do to a child. It's maddeningly adorable.

You should be running to the backyard by now, but instead you stare at him for a while. It's his turn to be confused. Your smile gets broader by each passing second as your delicate hands trace his face and run over the salt and pepper patches of his beard. When you playfully ruffle his hair, your eyes are still droopy and dreamy and so damn kissable that he just can't help himself.

His other hand fondles with a loose strand of hair beside you on the pillow before twirling it between his fingers. You bite your lower lip and lift your head just enough for a brief peck on the tip of his nose. He chuckles, letting his fingers draw a line over the column of your neck, down to your chest, and at last they disappear beneath the sheets, settling comfortably on the warm expanse of your belly. 

Joel assumes that his presence is not too close to lock you in place, and yet not too loose to let you drift back into unconsciousness. You just have the perfect moment to escape. For goodness sake, rain is the one thing you choose over anything else. The thing you like a lot.

But you're still here, dazed eyes flickering all over his face and it just gives him a second thought. A new idea to test your patience. Seeing you still pinned under him and unmoving, was not really in his list when he decided to walk back home and wake you up. He chortles with amusement. If you want what he thinks you do, he could give you that... "Come on sweetheart, what's stoppin' you?"

His fingers drift lower, exploring the bare flesh of your thigh, right where his mouth was hours ago. Still as warm as he remembers, maybe a little bruised too. "It's all rainy outside. Ain't that what you wanted?"

"I know..." You mumble, an undertone of need sewn in your voice as you look down over the sheets that cover every movement of his hand. It's too dark for you to see anything anyway. He could easily toss the covers aside, but it's wickedly satisfying this way. "I'm- um, just feeling a little under the influence...and it's- uh, it's distracting."

His hand caresses its way to where he knows you need it the most, and you barely repress a shudder when his fingertips glide over your folds. But he barely feels you, a ghost of a touch hovering there as a smirk threatens to flicker at the corner of his mouth.

"Wonder if my hand's makin' a good influence or a bad one. What d'you say, baby?"

It pelts down steadily outside, but you don't seem to care the slightest about it. Neither does Joel. A low gasp emanates from you when his touch becomes proper, rubbing circles and spreading the slick over your clit as slow and unrushed as he physically can manage. You're still indecently wet after he'd brought you over the edge again and again before you dozed off... and the fact that some of his cum might be gathering in his hand is fueling his lewd thoughts.

You naughty girl.

"A very bad one, I see." He tuts, feeling your chest heaving up and down beneath him. It's easy to rile you up this way. Desperation is written in your expression... and he hasn't even started yet.

"She needs fixin', doesn't she?" Joel asks, bringing his movement to a sudden halt. You're too distracted by everything he does to form a coherent thought. He lifts an expectant brow, now actually waiting for an answer.

"Yes- yes Joel... need it so bad... so bad it hurts." You breathe, a helpless pout forming on your lips.

"I know baby. I know... Jus' lay down and let me take care of it, hm? How's that sound?" He demands again, but this time he doesn't give you a chance to respond as he pushes two fingers past your weeping hole, burying them knuckles deep within your warmth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, eyelids heavy as you grasp his arm, squirming like a helpless, needy girl.

What a cruel man he is.

"Not off to a good start, angel. I know you can be more patient."

You nod quickly, biting your lip in an attempt to stop yourself from wriggling and twisting on the bed. For a split second, Joel considers pulling out to nuzzle his face between your legs and let the heat consume him. A perfect place to brave the cold, restless seasons. 

But his fingers aren't shy either. He starts with slow thrusts, effortlessly sliding in and out before picking up the pace. He makes you adjust to his rhythm, and when you let go and open up, the obscene moans and chocked out cries are all that fill the silence of the house. Jesus, he lives to hear them every day. He rewards you by curling his fingertips to hit that spot that makes you see stars.

You shudder particularly hard at that, more arousal pooling inside you and soaking his fingers. You're losing your grip with reality, and he can sende it as your legs begin to shake and your knee brushes over the denim of his jeans, but you still remember to abide by his "No squirming" rule.

You're so pliant and obedient in his hands that it does nothing but to spur Joel to give you more. And so he does.

"I like these sounds," He adds a third finger, tilting his head to whisper in your ear. "I dream about them all the time."

You whimper and tighten your hold around Joel's arm. When he feels that your orgasm is creeping impossibly close, his thumb joins and rubs rapid circles over your bundle of nerves and that's your undoing. You clench around him, walls tightening and squeezing his fingers deeper – if that's even possible – as waves of white-hot euphoria crash over your worn out body and take over your senses. Your back arches involuntarily into him. A sound between a groan and a curse escapes his throat.

"That's it. Atta girl... that's it, so fuckin' beautiful."

His touch is unrelenting as he talks you through it with a string of sweet nothings. 

Only when you come down and rest back on the bed he slowly pulls out. You're panting heavily, face flushed and heated and so effortlessly seductive that Joel is sure no fucking artist could ever capture it in words of a poem or colors of a painting. Joel is the only one to witness this moment and it swells his chest with pride. He wants to drink it in, let it run through his veins like never-ending liquor.

He lifts his hand, smirking as you gape at the way it's glistening under the dim light. You're in awe. He softly places the tips between your swollen lips and you waste no time in swirling your tongue around them, licking the slick off as if it's a delightful lollipop. And the hazy look on your face says that it's more than just a sweet treat.

His own breathing hitches when you open your mouth a little wider and take him fully in, sucking and humming and driving him absolutely crazy. He shakes his head slightly, catching the playful gleam in your gaze.

"Hm. Still a very bad influence."

When you're fully recovered and satisfied, Joel lifts you up in his arms and walks towards the backyard, chuckling at your confused expression. You give a squeal and wrap your hands around his neck to keep yourself steady, at the same time trying to gauge what his next plan would be. You really have forgotten about the rain, haven't you?

He comes to a halt, making sure the blanket he'd just picked off the bed is not leaving any part of your body uncovered. The rainstorm has eased off considerably over the past hour, but he doesn't want to risk it. Keeping you warm and safe in the cold is and will always be his top priority, no matter if his back or knees protest from how much they ache. Hell, he aches for you and that content smile on your face. Nothing beats it.

"My girl still wants to go out, hm?"

Your eyes flicker between him and the half-open door, filled with excitement and delight and a tiny flicker of doubt. "Yes Joel... but...you sure you want to join in?"

"I don't know," He feigns innocence, pretending to think for a short while before his face lights up with an idea. "Do I get a kiss for it?"

You laugh and lean up to press your lips into his in a soft, lingering kiss. It's so tender and reassuring that he has to pull back before changing his mind and taking you back to the bed.

"Then it's settled."

It has been settled for a long time.

Maybe he can get used to it. Maybe you get a better idea of what you've made of him with your presence at times when he easily complies with things that make you happy. A heart made of ice, molten enough to experience the world with you all over again. Even if he gets soaked in the rain, he's alright with it. You kiss him and all the discomfort is forgotten.

He should give it time and learn to breathe again. Learn to stay, to settle. To let you know that you're all he sees.

Yeah, I don't want to hurt

There's so much in this world 

To make me bleed

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Stay with me

You're all I see

The words are carved in his head. He chances a glance at the living room before walking past the door. Your guitar is placed on the couch. Maybe one day he'll bring himself to play his melodies for you too. He think that he's got a lot of time for it now. He wants an eternity with you, and in this wretched world, eternity lasts as long as you'll have him.

One, two... Ten droplets fall over him. He kisses you again, harder and longer. His ice-cold heart melts just a little more at your careless laughter. Just stay with me.

[justwinginglife]

hi!! may I request something again?^^

may I request soshiro found out that you can turn into a Kaiju or see you transforming into your Kaiju form. a little Angst but with happy ending please:›

You may always request something again! Also story note- for this fic, Imma just ignore that Kikoru Shinomiya exists, sorry yall, you're taking her spot now.

Half Human

Your whole life was one big irony in that your life's mission was to kill kaiju and yet you owed the very breath in your lungs to them. Your father, the Director General, Isao Shinomiya, had already lost his wife and he'd be damned if he was going to lose you too. He secretly brought a kaiju back to base alive and had several talented doctors and scientists exchange its core in place of your failing heart. The doctors weren't even sure it could be done, but when the abomination that was you was finally finished, they were all sworn to secrecy. You were to be the first and the only kaiju transplant survivor.

After all, if word got out that it was possible to enhance the human body directly with kaiju organs, without use of a suit, there would be chaos. For one, the suit industry would take an immense hit and the black market would reign supreme. Not to mention how much ungodly human experimentation could come about from failed attempts to successfully recreate the transplant. It might even make the Defense Force's job more difficult- trying to take Kaiju in alive was significantly more dangerous and strenuous than just killing them.

With all these things in mind, your father kept the tightest lid on the situation. No one but you, your father, and the team that had worked on you knew this secret. But today, one more would find out.

Your father always carefully monitored your vitals in case you ever rejected the organ, and you were always reminded to keep your emotions in check so as to not set off the kaiju side of you. You thought that you'd learned to keep most of your emotions at bay, but apparently that control you had did not apply to anything even remotely related to the Vice Captain.

One time you'd heard someone shit talking him and you accidentally stabbed through your own tongue because your anger had called your fangs to emerge. And it didn't help that the Vice Captain glimpsed the blood dripping from your lips and tried to help you. You always wondered if you'd be able to feel human emotions anymore since you no longer had a human heart, but he quickly put that fear to rest because every time he reached for you, touched you, cared for you, you felt like you could feel your nonexistent heart beating rapidly. It felt like he was the only thing grounding you in your humanity.

Your father must have caught onto this at some point because he'd frequently make excuses to call you to headquarters when he felt like you might be getting too close to Hoshina. Today was one of those days.

You had gotten the summon early this morning and you were annoyed but you knew you that as much as you wanted to rebel against your father as his daughter, as a soldier in his Defense Force you couldn't very well disobey a direct order from the Director General. Especially when no one knew the reason you were called to headquarters so regularly. So you went to him.

By the time you finally concluded your business with your father it was late (you refused to stay the night in his division and let him have anymore hold over your life as it was) and you were waiting for the next train back to the Third Division when you felt your comms buzzing in your pocket. You thought it was strange as everyone should be either asleep or going to sleep soon, but you popped the comms in anyway, eager to hear what was going on so late at night. The base was under attack. It was a Daikaiju. The Vice Captain was fighting him. And losing.

You start to get dizzy. Sweat trickles down your forehead. The world seemed to be blinking in and out. You shake your head trying to get ahold of yourself but you know it's no use. You still haven't learned to get your kaiju side under control and on the rare occasion when you slipped and went berserk only your father could bring you back from that place of darkness. You clench your fists, straining, and gripping onto what was left of your humanity but your lower half had already started to turn.

"No- don't. He needs me. I can't be rampaging in another division right now." You beg the beast inside you.

It doesn't listen.

You feel the transformation reach your neck, a growl already starting to rise up your throat.

"I said stop! Damnit, st-"

Your voice is no longer your own. All that's left of you is one half of your face now, and the beast is slowly closing in on it. It's hungry. It hasn't been let out in awhile.

You look up at the moon, blinking back tears, thinking it might be awhile before you see it again, before you're yourself again. You wonder how long it will take your dad to find you and you wonder if he will even be able to change you back this time. He was getting older, getting weaker. What if you killed him this time?

And what if when you woke up, if you ever woke up again, the Vice Captain was dead? What would you do with your life if you weren't listening for his footsteps in the hallways or listening for his laugh in the air? If he wasn't telling you a joke or complimenting your stance, would you make it through the day? If you went through life not ever having told him how you felt, would it still feel like you were living?

You start to spiral in your own dark thoughts as the transformation spreads across your face, but right before it hits your ear you here the comms crackling.

"Vice Captain! Come in, Vice Captain! Sir, please respond!" Okonogi. She's yelling for the Vice Captain. Something must've happened.

Your vision starts to go red. You punch the lamppost beside you, but you're surprised to find that it's your fist that hits the metal. Not the beast's. You look down. Only your legs are still transformed.

You actually laugh out loud. "That's more like it. Time to go." You jump once, and it propels you into the sky. You use the momentum to launch yourself towards the Third Division. Somehow your legs are faster than a moving train, bringing you bounding towards the training grounds in what seems like no time at all.

Before you can even think about the consequences of being half transformed on base where the officers are literally trained to kill kaiju like you, before you can even think about how your father will probably kill you himself for revealing the secret he's worked so hard to protect, you're already jumping in front of Hoshina as you transform your arms and block a blow that could've been deadly.

He doesn't even have time to be stunned, you're injured.

He jumps to his feet, concern on his face, as you spit blood. You've not fought anything in your kaiju form before (the most you've done is scare the shit out of some pigeons before your father found you and changed you back) and it takes some getting used to.

"Well fuck. That actually hurt, damnit!" You yell at the kaiju. It laughs at you. You raise an eyebrow. It seems to understand you. You're astounded but you don't care to think too much about it before you launch a punch at its abdomen.

It groans but then it chuckles. "Is that the best you've got?"

"Ah so you do talk. That's fucking creepy, not gonna lie." You punch its chest this time.

It staggers backwards and Hoshina takes advantage of the opening, slashing at its legs. It lands on its back.

You hurl yourself high into the air and then crash down hard on its head with a deafening blow that splits its skull. But it starts to slowly regenerate and it shakes you off of it. You land at the ground by Hoshina.

"So are we ever going to talk about the whole 'you being a half kaiju hybrid' thing?" He asks you, eyes still trained on the shuddering beast in front of him.

"Really? Now? We're a little busy Hoshina."

He laughs- he actually fucking laughs. "Oh really, because here I thought we were having a nice little tea party."

You roll your eyes but you can't help but smile at his poor comedic timing. "I'll treat you to some tea if you tell me where the damn core is."

He points to its back. "Lil fucker is hiding it in there."

You nod. "Got it."

The kaiju rises to its feet, ready for another round.

"Do me a favor and be bait, yeah?" You tell Hoshina and then before he can protest, you charge its back.

The kaiju swings at you but you duck.

"Oh I'm the fucking bait? Real classy." Hoshina grumbles but he complies, charging at its front, slashing at it and keeping it busy while you circle behind it.

You run up the stairs of a nearby building and when you reach the top, you launch yourself from the roof.

"This one is for making Hoshina bleed." You mutter under your breath before sending its organs flying as you rip through its flesh and pummel its core to bits. The aftershock sends you flying and you don't have time to land properly. You smack the floor on your side, tumbling in circles until you finally slow.

Your ribs feel like they're caving in but at least the kaiju is down for good. You lie in the dirt, coughing painfully and looking up at the night sky. You're fully human again, like the beast inside you curled up and went to bed, letting you feel the full force of the pain alone.

Hoshina rushes over to you. "Oh my god, are you okay?!"

You cough again. "Not sure if I'm up for that tea party anymore. Might've fucked up a lung or two."

He rolls his eyes. "You would make a joke at a time like this."

"And who was the one asking me stupid questions mid fucking fight?" You tease.

He laughs.

"So... are we going to talk about it now?" You swallow, wondering how he'll react to this new side of you.

He thinks for a moment. "Talk about what? As far as I know, a human saved me from the kaiju. And it looks like," He chucks a rock at the nearby drone, "The rubble badly damaged any footage that might've been captured."

You sigh, relieved, and relax against the ground.

"But... if there's anything you want to tell me later... when you're ready, I'll listen."

There were so many things you wanted to tell him and you being half kaiju was the least important of them. But you'd save that for another day, maybe when less of your limbs hurt.

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

"By the way, did you really brutally murder the kaiju just because it made me bleed? Your comms were on."

"Shut up, Hoshina."

[dragonomatopoeia]

Air's Bizarre Christmas Rom-Com Reclist

I am a fan of Romance Media, but even more importantly, a fan of mediocre art. As such, I have watched a lot of christmas romcoms. I have in fact watched Too Many christmas romcoms. While freelancing between jobs, I would put them on in the background as mindless noise to keep me company while writing copy.

This means that I am uniquely positioned to create a rec list of christmas rom-coms that meet a very specific set of criteria:

Is the movie interesting enough to make me actually Watch it instead of half-listening to it in the background?

Are elements of the plot bizarre enough to make me yell "WHAT" at the screen?

Would I rewatch the movie in the company of friends?

Any movie that fulfills all three of these criteria is eligible to join those privileged few, the elite ranks of My Christmas Rom-Com Rec List

A Chance for Christmas (2021)

Synopsis: "Influencer Christina Chance gets the opportunity of a lifetime: a lucrative sponsorship from the brand of her dreams. However, she soon discovers she's stuck in a time warp where the same Christmas Eve repeats itself over and over again." Commentary: This is a Tubi original, and it lives up to all the mess that status bestows. That established, my favorite parts of this movie are that the main character and love interest have the same kind of obsessive, perfection-driven marketing brain poison that lead them to try to min-max a time loop and learn zero lessons for the vast majority of the movie. There's a kind of frenetic, self-absorbed energy to each of the characters that's fascinating to watch. At one point the main character attacks a man dressed like Santa in an act of misdirected rage, and the love interest holds her concerned family back while yelling "SHE NEEDS THIS LET HER GO SHE NEEDS THIS". Also, the kids are actual characters with inner lives instead of props! There are structural issues with the movie, and in my perfect world, the protagonist would quit her influencer job, but overall, I enjoyed it.

A Christmas Movie Christmas (2019)

Synopsis: "A Christmas movie fanatic and her cynical sister wake up to find they are now the stars of a Christmas movie." Commentary: I have a soft place in my heart for scripts written by actors who have been trapped in this Christmas purgatory for years. There's a certain sensitivity to The Way Words Work that is nonexistent in most of these films. Especially since this industry relies on Never Retaking Any Line Read Ever because these movies are basically made on an assembly line. That is to say, this movie is a love letter and a list of grievances wrapped together in a metatextual bow. All of its jabs at the genre feel like they come from a place of familiarity rather than scorn, and the actors are obviously having fun. Line deliveries and elements of blocking feel like they have actual character work put into them, and one of the love interests feels like a Christmas Homunculi with no understanding that a world other than snowglobes and sugar cookies exists. But on purpose this time! If he encountered a turtle flipped on its back, he'd start feeding it christmas cookies, and the movie is Very Aware of This. It's fun.

Baby It's Cold Inside (2021)

Synopsis: "When a travel agent up for a promotion is directed to forget her tropical vacation and instead visit the world-famous Ice Hotel, she discovers that her sacrifices are more than compensated." Commentary: I'll be honest. This one is mostly here because the editing choices made me feel like I was losing my mind. I ended up dragging my roommate down to the living room at multiple points so that they could witness the same thing I was seeing. The jarring cuts, dropped story beats, and lines that lead nowhere make for an unforgettable viewing experience... except for the part where I have forgotten literally every other element of the movie. Except for the inexplicably evil love rival who becomes niceys at the end. I like her. Girlboss. This isn't even the only Hallmark movie that was set at and filmed at Hôtel de Glace in 2021. Truly the most Hallmark movie on this list.

Christmas Perfection (2018)

Synopsis: "Darcy's been striving for the perfect Christmas since childhood; thanks to a magical figurine her dream finally comes true." Commentary: I have already written up my thoughts on Christmas Perfection in EXTENSIVE detail here. Needless to say, I watch it every year. What a fascinating text. What an odd timeloop. It should have been gay.

Snowmance (2017)

Synopsis: "Each year Sarah builds her "Snow Beau" snowman with her best friend Nick. After another breakup, she begins to wonder if she'll ever find her own true love. A little Christmas magic brings her Snow Beau to life." Commentary: I cannot believe the snowman actually came to life. The snowman came to life and he's not even the primary love interest. Nick sucks in a normal possessive childhood friend love interest way, fuck Nick, everyone hates Nick, sure, but THE SNOWMAN CAME TO LIFE? THE SNOWMAN CAME TO LIFE AND HE TRIES TO SELL THE PROTAGONIST'S HOUSE!!!!! SHE LIVES THERE!!!!! This movie made me scream out loud multiple times. It is not good. Please watch it.

Timeless Love (2019)

Synopsis: "Megan wakes up from a coma in a hospital. The husband and 2 kids she just dreamed about aren't real. At her first job interview, she meets Thomas from her dream - or was it a vision years into the future?" Commentary: Listen to me. Listen. The establishing scenes of this movie are played completely straight. For the first chunk of the movie, it feels like this is going to be a dramatic, serious movie in a way that Hallmark Christmas Romcoms fundamentally are not, which makes it EVEN WEIRDER when it suddenly pivots into your classic nonsense. It entrances me. Who let this happen? Why is the medical professional who is assigned to help Megan with the trauma of losing her coma-construct family and recover from being in a literal coma cartoonishly evil? Why was the information Megan obtained from the coma dream accurate to real life? Why is she suddenly okay with losing her coma children as soon as she found the real-world version of her coma-husband? What a fascinating text. I have no clue what to do with it. But maybe you do. I'm folding it into your hands. Whatever happens next is your decision

[captainsophiestark]

A Reverse Steve Rogers

Jack Thompson x Reader

Masterlist - Taglist

Requested by @hawaiianpizzaenjoyer !! Thanks for the request, and for being so patient while I got it done! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Y/N, an Avenger, friend of Tony Stark, and the one who helped Steve Rogers adjust to the 21st century after he came out of the ice, gets flung back into the 1940s when something goes wrong on a training mission. She has no idea how long her stay in the 40s might be, but one way or another, it's going to be interesting.

Word Count: 4,684

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: This doesn't follow any of the season 2 timeline lol, just some vague stuff put together for the sake of this story.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"We could always just find another ticket for her and make up a reason for her to be there on her own..."

"Yeah? Like what? At this event, anybody with the slightest hole in their story is gonna stick out like a sore thumb.”

I looked between Peggy Carter and Daniel Sousa as they talked, frantically trying to figure out what to do with me tonight. They were currently in the middle of breaking up a secret society in Los Angeles, and they had a mission disguised as a date tonight where they'd be infiltrating a fancy party being thrown by said society.

Unfortunately for them, I'd landed in their laps (pretty literally) this afternoon, and accidentally thrown a wrench into their whole operation.

One minute, I'd been doing a training mission with the Avengers. The next, I'd been falling on top of  a desk in the SSR in 1947. I still didn't know exactly what had thrown me back in time, but no matter what the cause, the fact didn't change that I was here, and would be for the foreseeable future.

I'd almost had a heart attack when I'd looked up to see THE Peggy Carter, founder of SHIELD and total badass, standing in front of me. I think I freaked her and Daniel out a little by fangirling the minute I got up off the floor, but a stranger landing in the middle of their super high-level organization probably would've landed me in the interrogation room anyway.

Thankfully, I knew Steve Rogers pretty well, and so did Peggy. I'd mentioned his name briefly when trying to explain how I knew who she was, but then I'd been able to use what I knew about Steve and the stories he'd shared with me to convince her I was telling the truth about time travel.

Since then, we'd done some brief introductions and I'd been let out of the interrogation room. I'd been given the bare minimum details of the mission to understand the conversation, and now I sat on the edge of a desk watching Daniel and Peggy talk as they tried to adjust their plans.

"Perhaps Mr. Jarvis would be available on short notice to take her as a date..." mused Peggy.

"Whoa, Jarvis? Oh my gosh, the real person Jarvis is alive and walking around right now. That makes sense," I said, mostly talking to myself.

"That still doesn't solve the problem of them not being on the guest list," continued Daniel, he and Peggy only briefly glancing my way at the outburst.

"Maybe Howard could help us secure another two."

"He already wore out his welcome with these guys to get you in there the first time."

"Did you just say Howard? As in Howard Stark?"

Peggy and Daniel groaned in unison.

"Don't tell me you're a big fan of him too?" groaned Daniel.

"His ego's already big enough as it is," Peggy agreed.

"No, it's not that, I- uh... nevermind." I pushed off the desk, waving off thoughts of Tony. I still wasn't clear on how this time travel stuff worked, and I didn't want to go telling people about Howard Stark's currently nonexistent son without more assurance it wouldn't have any crazy impact first. "Look, you guys clearly don't have space for me in this mission. The best path is a small team, specifically a couple, who can enjoy the night like a regular date while still gathering intel and handling the mission."

Peggy and Daniel shared a look, and I could see an entire conversation passing between them. I continued.

"I might not know much about the forties, but I'm still a capable adult. I'm an Av- I was on a team with Steve to take on missions around the world. I'll be fine handling myself for a bit while you guys take care of business."

"Are you sure?" asked Peggy with a frown.

"We don't want to completely abandon you. Disappearing from your own time and reappearing in another can't be easy," added Daniel.

I gave them a faint smile, momentarily overwhelmed with memories. I'd first met Steve when he'd shown up in the future and needed someone to help him adjust. I'd been a SHIELD agent at the time, responsible for liaising with Tony Stark, so they figured helping a living legend adjust would be nothing compared to that.

They'd been right, and we'd hit it off the bat. When Tony eventually formed the team, I'd been on the roster. And now, I was the one being faced with adjusting to another time.

"It's not easy," I said to Daniel, the smile still on my face. "But I also don't need babysitters when those babysitters have important, world-saving duties to attend to. I actually have a little bit of an advantage, going back in time. I took history classes and whatnot, so I at least have some idea of how this world works."

"Well, if you're sure-"

"Alright! Sousa, Marge, fear not! The cavalry is here."

I turned at the sound of a new voice, but not before I caught Peggy and Daniel rolling their eyes so far back into their heads I couldn't see the pupils. A tall, blond man in a suit was striding across the room towards us, and a second after I started sizing him up he noticed me and did the same.

"Who's this?" he asked, coming to a stop in front of us. Peggy and Daniel didn't answer right away, apparently working together to gather mental strength before entering the conversation with this guy. I just leaned back a bit against the desk and watched.

Peggy and Daniel took a second to make significant eye contact, then sighed as one. Daniel turned to Jack, and Peggy subtly shifted closer to me.

"She's somebody who does a job like ours, but from the future," said Daniel. Jack just stared at him for a minute, then looked to me, and then back at Daniel.

"Sousa, despite what you might think, I'm not stupid."

"Jack, I get that it's hard to believe, but if you actually listen for two seconds-"

Jack huffed and crossed his arms while Daniel kept talking. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Peggy leaning in towards me, and I blocked out the boys' argument as she whispered to me.

"Y/N, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Hit me," I whispered back. Peggy sighed.

"Jack has recently had a moral epiphany," she started. I took half a second to give her a curious glance, and she just rolled her eyes in response. "It's been mostly nice, both to have him on our side and to finally have him respecting me and Daniel and anyone that's not an older man already in power.

"That said, we don't have space for him on this mission. All he's going to do is be a nuisance, and he's far less likely to agree to being benched than you."

"And I take it you have a solution for this?"

"Yes. But it would require throwing you under the bus to keep him occupied tonight."

I paused for a second, giving Jack another good look. He and Sousa were still in the middle of a heated argument while Sousa tried to convince him I was actually a time traveler, and even though they both seemed exasperated, Jack also seemed to be enjoying the back and forth. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"Peggy Carter, it would be an absolute honor to assist you on a mission," I said, turning to her with a smile. "Even if it means spending the evening learning about the forties from a slightly questionable teacher."

"You're a lifesaver," she said, giving me a smile back. She pushed off the desk, moving towards Daniel and Jack to interrupt them but shooting me a wink first. "And don't worry, I'll give you an actual introduction to the decade after this mission is over."

I nodded, then Peggy got Jack and Daniel's attention to put their argument to rest and explain the situation. Jack raised an eyebrow when Peggy told him his job would be keeping me company, but she phrased it well enough that it didn't quite sound like babysitting for either of us. Finally, he agreed, and Peggy and Daniel headed out for their event, leaving me and Jack Thompson alone in the bullpen of the LA SSR.

He stood by the windows, staring out at the traffic below as I spun around in a swivel chair. I kept looking at him, but he didn't look over at me once, at least not that I could catch. Finally, after a few more rotations, I huffed a sigh and pushed myself up. I put my hands on my hips, but Jack still didn't look over.

"Alright, I'm bored out of my mind, which should not be a possibility less than three hours after I suddenly appeared in a different time period," I said. Jack finally looked over at me, raising an unimpressed eyebrow as he did. I continued. "You're supposed to be helping me adjust to this place, since I don't know how long I'm gonna be here. Believe it or not, it didn't take me that long to adjust to this office."

He sighed heavily, but stepped away from the window anyway, stopping a few feet in front of me with his arms across his chest. He stared at me for a few seconds without saying anything, and I just stared right back. I crossed my arms to mirror him and he snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You're really from the future?" he finally asked.

"Did the twenty minutes Peggy and Daniel spent convincing you not settle this matter?"

He grunted, then finally dropped his arms back to his sides.

"Fine. What do you want to do then?"

I grinned. "Any good places to grab a drink and a dance around here?”

****************

"This is only my first week in LA, so if this place ends up being terrible, it's the city's fault and not mine," said Jack as we stepped out of the cab together. I'd taken a second to find a dress to steal from Peggy's emergency disguise stash at the SSR, since my 21st century mission clothes would probably cause a riot if I went out in them, and then Jack and I had jumped in a cab to a spot in town he'd heard about.

"Boooo," I teased as he paid the driver and we headed in together. "You can't consider the possibility of the night being a failure before it's even started! It's a jinx."

"A jinx?"

"Yeah, you know. Like bad luck."

"I know the definition of the word jinx," he scoffed. "I just think it's ridiculous you believe in them."

"Oh, yeah, of course. Actually, I didn't want to tell Peggy and Daniel this, but in the future we've discovered that a lot of things people dismissed as superstitions or bad luck are actually true. Like jinxes. Oh, and breaking a mirror? That actually will mess you up! We didn't realize it until science advanced a little further, I think in the seventies, but it's true."

Jack stared at me for a few seconds, and I stared back with a perfectly neutral expression on my face. Then, he broke into a grin and nudged me with his shoulder.

"You're messing with me."

"I definitely am."

He scoffed and shook his head, but the smile didn't drop off his face. He sighed dramatically, looking up at the club in front of us, then held out his arm for me to take.

"C'mon. You're the one who wanted to experience the time period."

I smiled up at him, then looped my arm through his. He pulled me a little closer, and I'd be lying if I said my heart didn't speed up a bit as we walked into the club together.

Immediately I got hit with the music I associated with the swinging jazz of the 1940s as we stepped into a world of men in suits and women in old-style dresses, all twirling across the dancefloor together.

"Whoa," I breathed. Suddenly, it started to sink in that I was actually in the 1940s, more than 80 years from everything and everyone I knew. A new surge of sympathy for Steve welled up in my chest.

"You alright?" asked Jack, nudging me a little as we stood in the doorway. I took a deep breath in and out, then slowly nodded. "Okay, good. Let's go get a drink.”

I huffed a laugh as he pulled me through the crowd and towards the bar. We managed to find two stools, and Jack pulled my seat out for me before I sat down. I couldn't help giving him a slightly bemused look, which he grunted about as he took the seat next to me.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said, waving him off. "Just, you know... forties."

He turned to stare at me, his eyebrows knit together, but the bartender appeared before he could question what I was talking about.

"What can I get the two of you?" asked the bartender. Jack turned to me, letting me go first.

"I'll have an old fashioned, please."

Both he and Jack looked at me for a second, but I looked right back at both of them like they were crazy for questioning it (because they were). After a second, Jack shrugged and turned back to the bartender.

"I'll do the same."

The bartender nodded, then moved away to make the drinks. I turned and gave Jack a smile.

"Thanks for buying," I said. "I didn't have my wallet on me when I got sucked back in time, and even if I did, I don't think the bartender would be able to accept the kind of bills I carry. I'm not trying to get arrested for counterfeiting a few hours into being in the past."

Jack chuckled. "Sure thing. So, an old fashion, huh?"

"Yeah. It's Ton- uh, it's my friend's favorite drink. He got me drinking them, too."

"Hm. Future sounds like a wild place."

"Honestly, I'd say 1940 is a little wilder."

The bartender set down our drinks, and Jack put a few bills on the table. Then, once he was out of earshot again, I turned to Jack with a smile.

"Cheers," I said, raising my glass in toast. "To new experiences and getting to know each other and this weird ass trip back to the past."

Jack smiled, although I could tell he was fighting it, and clinked his glass with mine before we both took a sip.

"So, Jack Thompson... tell me about the forties."

Jack and I spent the next hour talking about everything from foods that hadn't been invented yet (ranch dressing!) to the weird, national popularity of baseball and how I couldn't wait to see people start getting the memo about the NBA. Some of it was informative, even helpful, but for the most part we just... talked. Laughed. Joked around and enjoyed each other's company like people who'd known each other much longer than a few hours.

For some reason, it just felt easy. Going into this, heading out with someone who was clearly a confident, if not arrogant, man from the 1940s, with Peggy's warnings on top of everything else? Well, let's just say I didn't have the highest of hopes. But by some miracle, whether it was our equally loud and teasing personalities or that fact that I proudly didn't know anything about baseball beyond the fact that games took way too long, rather than the ignorance or indifference he had been expecting... Jack Thompson and I got on like wildfire.

"I'm just saying, when you're watching a legend play, that's the only part of the game that matters!" Jack continued, defending his baseball stance. "And DiMaggio's a legend."

"Yeah, no shit," I scoffed, rolling my eyes to go with it. Jack snorted at my language, but I caught him grinning at me all the same as he took a sip from his drink. "But, unlike in other sports, your legend's only playing for like fifteen minutes out of every hour. Still boring!"

Jack opened his mouth, clearly ready with some other comeback that would do absolutely nothing to change my position, but before he could, the band started up with something I actually recognized.

"Oh my God!" I cried, setting down the now-empty glass that previously held my second old fashioned. "This song- we have to go dance!"

"You know this song?" asked Jack, only looking slightly bemused as he set down his glass and I dragged him towards the dance floor.

"Yeah. Steve plays it all. The damned. Time," I said, finally coming to a stop in the middle of the floor. I moved to drop Jack's hand now that I'd gotten him out here, but he just squeezed it tighter and pulled me closer. "It's one of the only songs from the forties he plays that I can actually stand."

Jack scoffed, wrapping an arm around my waist as we started twirling across the floor together. "You're actually friends with him? Sousa wasn't making that whole thing up?"

"What? No. Actually, I'm the one that helped him adjust to the future not long after he woke up in my time."

Jack nodded, looking thoughtful. "So that's why you recognized Carter? Sousa said you almost fainted from excitement when you first saw her."

"No. I mean, sort of, I guess. But I would've known her even without Steve. She's only the coolest, most badass woman and intelligence pioneer the world has ever known," I said. Jack snorted, and I scowled. "What? You disagree?"

He shrugged. "I mean, I'd probably argue there are some other intelligence pioneers that deserve mention. But... I guess no, I don't necessarily disagree. Just don't mention it to her, alright? I'll deny it, and I don't need her immortalization from a time traveler being thrown in my face every time I work a case with her for the rest of time."

I laughed, and Jack gave me a knowing smile before spinning me out and away from him. He twirled me across the floor before pulling me back to him quickly. We moved in perfect harmony, picking up our pace to match the band and putting the other couples to shame. We quickly got lost in our own little world, to the point that everyone and everything except the music disappeared. When Jack sped up, I sped up a little more, and we easily met each other's challenges, stupid smiles on our faces the whole time.

When a slower song started playing, Jack and I finally relaxed the pace, forgoing the elaborate dance moves to just sway in place and catch our breaths for a minute. I was still a little lost in our moment, enough so that I didn't notice someone else approaching us until he shoved himself part way between me and Jack.

"Hey doll. Mind if I cut in?" The guy leered over me, totally ignoring Jack as he reached for my hand without waiting for my answer. I scoffed, my tired-but-happy smile instantly turning into a scowl. Jack seemed equally frustrated and moved as if he was about to step in and do something about it, but I decided to just take care of it for the both of us.

"Actually, yeah, I do mind," I snapped, fixing the guy with an unimpressed look as I snatched my hand out of his reach. He seemed incredibly surprised by my response, but I plowed ahead anyway. "I'm dancing with someone already, and even if I weren't, I have no interest at all in dancing with you. So... scram. Or beat it. Or whatever people say now."

The man just stood there for a second, open-mouthed, blinking at me in stunned silence. Then, his expression shifted into a scowl and his face started to turn red.

"I- You- How dare you-!"

"Dude, get lost," I said, crossing my arms and staring him down as I talked over him. I glanced over his shoulder to Jack, who also looked shocked but in a pleasantly surprised way, and addressed him. "What's another good way to tell someone to go away?"

He shrugged, a delighted smile growing on his face. "Take a powder?"

"Really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Jack just nodded, so I looked back at the rude guy. "Alright, take a powder. Hit the bricks. Take a long walk off a short pier. Other creative ways to say leave. I want to dance to this lovely song with my dance partner here, who is not you, so... yeah. Take the blatant instructions."

The man whirled around to Jack, like he expected him to say or do something to reign me in. Jack just shrugged again.

"You heard the lady. I'm not gonna tell you anything she didn't already say."

The man scowled, whipping back to look at me again. I just met him with crossed arms and a look that told him I wouldn't be budging an inch. He spluttered a few more incoherent words in indignation, then stormed off the dance floor and out of sight. I sighed, then faced Jack again.

"How wildly out of place was that for the time period? Both him and me?" I asked. Jack grinned.

"Him? Not very. You? Insanely," he said, taking my hand again as we went back to gently swaying in place. He tugged me a little closer to his chest, and I smiled. "I gotta say though, I sure enjoyed watching it."

"Good. Because I don't actually care at all, and I had a lot of fun doing that."

Jack laughed, throwing his head back before fixing me with a brilliant smile. He twirled me out and away from him again, then pulled me right back into his chest. We swayed together, closer than we'd been all night, and to my surprise I started noticing more than a few butterflies squirming in my chest as I stared up at the SSR Chief. Hm, noted the more logical side of my brain as we moved across the crowded dance floor. Nice, my heart replied as Jack's strong hand laid firmly on my waist and my hand traveled to the collar of his shirt.

Jack and I spent the rest of the night at the club, enjoying the music, the dancing, and each other's company until the place turned on the lights and threw us out. A few times, other men came up to hit on me and "steal me away" from Jack. Each time, I dressed them down and sent them on their way, and each time Jack just grinned and watched me do it. I could still tell he was ready to jump in, that his instinct was to take care of it for me, but he seemed to enjoy watching the jerks splutter and babble in shock and surprise as much as I did.

Afterwards, when we wandered back out onto the LA street together, Jack insisted on escorting me back to Howard Stark's place, where I'd be staying with Peggy. It was going to be incredibly weird staying at Tony's dad's house, meeting him and the real-human Jarvis, but I could process that later. Right now, I wanted to focus on the amazing, less-weird parts of being in the 40s. Specifically Jack Thompson, who I'd just spent a wonderful night enjoying this new time period with.

Jack hailed us a cab, and I rested my head on his shoulder and watched the city go by as the taxi took us out of the city, to the massive Stark mansion. It was basically a 40s version of Tony's Malibu house, and a pang of sadness tightened in my chest when I realized I had no idea when–or if–I would see my friends again.

I took a deep breath and shook those thoughts out of my head as the car came to a stop. All of that was a problem for later, not now. Jack got out first, holding the door for me and offering a hand to help me out, which I took. Rather than dropping it once I stood, he wrapped it around his arm as he asked the cabbie to wait and escorted me towards the house. We stopped on the porch and turned to face each other, and I realized I actually really didn't want the night to end.

"Thanks for showing me around the forties," I said, giving Jack a small smile. "It was actually really fun."

"You don't have to sound so surprised," he griped, but a smile made its way onto his face all the same. "So... I don't know how long you're gonna be here, and obviously we've got a lot of other work to do with Carter and Sousa tomorrow, but... maybe I could take you out again sometime. There's still a lot of forties you haven't seen yet."

"I'd like that," I said, a warm feeling welling up in my chest. I hesitated a second as Jack and I stared at each other on the doorstep, then decided to say fuck it and keep doing what I'd been doing all night: following my impulses. "Quick question: in the forties, if I kiss you on the first date, is that going to scare you off or something?"

Jack grinned. "It might get a raised eyebrow from the cabbie, but I sure as shit won't be complaining."

"Good."

With that, I grabbed Jack's lapels and tugged him towards me, leaning up just a bit and giving him a kiss. It was short, really just a quick peck since we'd just met, but fireworks exploded in my chest at the sensation anyway.

Jack's grin stayed in place as we pulled apart, and his hand lingered on my waist an extra second before dropping to his side. He took a step backwards, towards the waiting car, even as his eyes stayed on mine. I rested my hand on the doorknob, watching Jack and trying to stay in the moment even as he walked away.

"Welcome to the forties, sweetheart," he called as he made it down the porch steps and into the driveway. "I'll see you at work tomorrow."

I waved, a smile on my own face to match his. "Can't wait."

Jack gave a short wave and one last grin before getting into the cab. I watched as he drove away, a smile still on my own face even after I knew he couldn't see it. Finally, after the lights of the cab faded back into the LA night, I turned on my heel and walked into the house.

I'd been in the 40s for less than twelve hours, and I knew for a fact that I hadn't even scratched the tip of the iceberg on exploring the time period, or what frustrations being eighty years removed from everything I knew would bring. But, despite all that, I'd had a blast tonight, and tomorrow I'd get to start working with THE Peggy Carter. Whether I was only here for another few hours or it turned into months or longer, I couldn't help being excited at the idea of everything that was yet to come for me, not least of all my next date with Jack Thompson.

[sur-i-ki]

Darling, You’re Glowing, Part 5

Part 4

Final part. Message me and I can add some more after the ending.

Silence. Whispers. Pain. Silence again.

Where am I?

The pain. The pain.

Sunshine, blue skies. Laughter. Love. So much love.

You love him. I love him.

Your eyes snap into focus as you roar, the world coming undone around you.

He’s in danger. You love him. You have to protect him.

Naruto was fighting for the sake of the village. A right hook, duck, roundhouse kick, clone attack, fight back, fight. He’d been here since the beginning, fighting and running, bringing the focus of the paths to the Hokage tower. The entirety of Anbu were waiting. Kakashi-sensei with his dog mask. Jiriaya had disappeared halfway through the invasion, whispered words from Tsunade’s mouth sending him running.

Fight

But now, the Anbu were pushed back. He was fighting with sage mode on, Ma and Pa with him as he moved. He was losing. He could feel it.

Pain had levelled the area, the entirety of the shinobi district now nonexistent. However, with the help of the T&I division, the Anbu had erected a large barrier, so majority of the civilian and merchant sectors were standing. Still, Naruto moved. He pushed back thoughts of you, knowing if he lost, you’d be brought here. And then, he would have to live without you.

Right then, Naruto feels himself get punched and grabbed. He struggles against the hands of the path, but his sage chakra runs out. He looks up and sees Pain’s mouth moving, but his breaths are getting shorter and he thinks:

“Am I going to die?”

The sand on the ground vibrates, small but he notices. They start bouncing, pebbles flying away. He feels like his heart flies away with them, too.

Because, you’re there. You’re there, fitted with shinobi clothes, hair pushed out of your face, and that sight alone steals his breath. A flicker of your fingers, and roots pull themselves out of the ground. His restraints are gone, and before he can catch up with his thoughts, your lips are on his and lord heavens above, he missed you. The relief, grief and joy all tangle together but he can kiss you, kisses you, until he can’t breathe.

His words fall out of his mouth, spilling against your lips as he moves his hands everywhere to memorize you. You both whisper I love you and I missed you and it’s been four years. His heart feels like its ripping in all directions and healing itself simultaneously. Naruto doesn't close his eyes, doesn't shut them even for a second, scared that he'd miss any part of you. He was memorizing every color in your eyes, every dip between your ribs, every breath, everything.

Naruto is crying, he’s sure of it, but you capture his lips again and he's grabbing your hips and pulling you in closer, as if someone might snatch you away from him. You both share a few more kisses before you crumple, an agonized scream tearing itself out of you. He shouts your name before your eyes glow, no pupils or irises to be seen, as you turn before tearing out of his hands towards a Path.

Nimble fingers fly through seals at super sonic speed, and he can see the water pull itself out of the ground, the wind from the air, whirling around you as you mold them to your liking. It rips into the body, pieces of it flying before turning into dust before his eyes and-

“…god…”

It was terrifyingly beautiful, the power and destruction you were brimming with. The air around you hummed with chakra, vibrated the fabric of existence with it. His clone winks out of existence, and the world turns brighter as sage chakra flows into him. Naruto stares, drinking you in, frozen.

Another Path moves towards him, but your clone is there, and he can feel you unlock your own chakra, nostalgic lighting charging the air, the scent of fire heavy in his nose.

Then, with utter awe and disbelief, he watches as you turn fire into lighting, force it to your liking, whipping it against the Path. It obliterates it into nothing, the hum of its power singing as it moves. Three gashes mark the ground, or trenches are more apt of an description, but you're ripping through them all. The trenches remind him of the claws of a beast.

No one could stand in your way.

The battlefield was silent with the exception of you moving through the enemies, cutting away at them. Oddly, Naruto is reminded of the time when you went to a festival a few years back, watching you move through the different Paths. Every step is a mimicry of the dance you did, and he feels his eyes water. There are cracks adorning your skin now, glowing, and he knows at some fundamental level that you don't have much time left.

Knows he can’t have you anymore.

He flies through the dust you've kicked up, and lands beside you. You both move together, a melody and harmony. The rest of the shinobi watch as you move together, Naruto observing you and matching every step, just like he did all those years ago at the festival. He can hear shouting. But he can’t care, because you’re there. He keeps moving, and soon, fight finishes in a blur. In victory. Until you collapse against him.

"I love you"

And then he’s grabbing at you, pushing your hair back, whispering it back with a fierceness. Your skin is cracked and raw, just like his after he accessed the fox’s power, and he can feel it bubble up. Naruto pushes against it, pushes it down to have some more time with you.

Tsunade pushes him away, her hands glowing green and Sakura rushes behind her with medical supplies. Naruto moves to you, but Kakashi sensei’s there, pulling him back.

“We have to find who was controlling those Paths…”

So, as his heart rips itself out of existence, he leaves, giving you a longing glance as he runs with Kakashi. The forest moves past them in a blur, tears falling from his eyes and then he’s staring at a shell of a man. Rippled eyes stare at him and he finds himself talking. Talking about himself, but talking about you the most. He almost faints at the thought of your body cooling-

Kakashi sensei shocks him a little.

Soon, green illuminates around him, and Naruto heads back, Kakashi sensei’s back strong against him. The crowd greets him, but he moves in a daze.

“Naruto!” Sakura’s voice breaks through the loud rushing in his ears, and he looks to see a smile on her face.

Hope ignites itself like a wildfire in his chest, and the tears flow earnest but he’s running, running to you and there you are. Hooked up and in a coma but not dead, not dead and you’re breathing. Naruto rushes to your side, grabbing your hand, as his body shakes with the force of his sobs.

Tsunade walks into the tent, and explains. How she gave Jiraiya the order, how Nagato’s gift helped them push you into a safe zone.

“However, Naruto, no one can access her mind. We don’t know when she’ll wake up.”

Naruto feels his heart break, but the rise and fall of your chest allows him some room to breathe. Then, Sakura comes and explains the rest.

“She, she’s accessed colossal levels of chakra, and we thought that she wouldn’t survive with none moving through her pathways.” Sakura move along the bed, checking your pulse.

“With the sheer amount she’s used, they’ve been blown open. However, during her comatose state, Kakashi sensei had been doing chakra therapy with Tsunade-sama.” He feels a sense of gratitude wash over him, and he doesn’t know how he’ll ever repay them.

“Her chakra reserves should be able to sustain her when she wakes, and her pathways should shrink enough for her to maintain mobility. We’ll have to teach her chakra control, when she wakes.”She finishes her assessment and leaves the room after giving Naruto a little pat on the back.

He finds her kind for using when and not if.

Days pass, and almost every time, after his shift of working to rebuild the shinobi sector, Naruto spends the rest of his time with you. Speaking to you while holding your hand, kissing your forehead, he’s there all the time. Tsunade reassured him, shows the scans of your brain, which indicate increased energy.

“Even though she burned through all the seals while fighting, she has to get through the mental block. Thankfully, Jiraiya was able to remove all seals from her body, but she’ll have to finish this on her own.” Tsunade gets a far away look in her eye, “finish this just the way she started it.”

And so he whispers encouraged words to you, telling you about the new taijutsu he’s learning, hoping it’d help if you were fighting. But the week moves with its feet dragging through the ground.

It was night when you woke up.

There was an angel on your bed.

Your mind had shattered itself but you’d pulled it back together, his words echoing through the chaos as you built yourself up again. You’d rather not remember it again.

He looked divine, holding your hand and moonlight painted the most gentlest of halos on his head. How blessed you were to see him first when you opened your eyes.

Your voice fought its way through your throat.

“Naruto?”

⇝ 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

@kissyhalik @the-holy-trinity-I @lennyleoo

Bold means I can’t tag you for some reason.

[rjalker]

so yeah after the absolute bullshit of that dream I no longer remember the lyrics to the nonexistant anime's opening theme in my dream besides the first not even full line which was something along the lines of:

-Your world is made of gold (100% accurate)

-And it's crumbing down (not accurate) Might also be "falling down"

-to wash over you (not accurate). might also be "to bite you" or "to hit you"

and some random line in the middle somewhere at the end of a stanza:

don't let it divide you on the bite (not accurate). Definitely ended with "on the bite". Divided is not the word that was used. It was saying don't let (something) make you all fight over the meaning of the bite.

"The bite" part was seemingly fucking random, whatever sentence was actually there, "the bite" was replacing a more normal word. IDK

the lyrics were an English translation of the original Japanese and not translated very well.

I remembered so many more of the fucking lyrics before the bullshit "haha you think you're awake but actually you're asleep" X20 started.

the first episode of the anime brought us in at ground level to a big busy city (possibly Tokyo? but like. with America's bullshit stroads) where traffic was stopped completely for as far as the eye could see, and the person in the car whose shoulder we were temporarily watching over was swearing and getting mad at people they'd just almost run over, because traffic had been stopped for so long people in Taxis were getting out to walk.

Traffic was stopped because at the giant intersection like, 5 miles ahead, because our protagonist(???) was a bus driver who'd just had a heart attack (or maybe a ''your werewolf transformation is nigh'' attack) and was unconscious. It was a big bus that you had to have a specialized license to operate it -- even if it was backing up traffic for literal miles. So everyone was stopped while the paramedics got the protagonist into an ambulance (I...think they were planning to drive out on the sidewalk) and could find someone else liscenced to move the bus.

People all around in the first few rows of cars were trading rumors through their windows. a bunch of people were convinced the bus driver was dead, others were insisting he'd been drunk, and ect.

sigh. I really wanted to write down those fucking lyrics.

Edit: I probably won't do much with this story idea, but anyone who wants to can use this as a writing prompt! And jury-rig the rest of the song into existence if you want.

[fxtuisms]

twist .   twist  my  muse’s  arm  behind  their  back .

When, oh when would pathetic little creatures like himself learn their worth in the world?

Never, it seemed, as though he'd been ignorant of this information formerly. No such hope or light for [that] concept to dawn upon the male... ah, well. It seems that they would always have to be placed down.

Crushed underfoot akin to the beetles of Electro crafted from the Inazman origins of the puppet before him.

A burst of the violet element being his only trace behind.

Well, almost formerly before him, with how blue light from the various tubes and shining machinery around them falls upon the cruel curves and almost medically carved mask. Avian influences clear in every line and peak; hiding a face from the underlings working with him in the freshly created factory.

Something that the former greater lord Rukkedevata would consider a blight against her nature-grown roots.

A place that he had adapted to his own, quite easily, despite the annoyance of creeping Dendro and the nation's influence attempting to destroy the technology and metal work he'd put into it. A nonexistent heart and soul left behind in the bronze burnishing and pipes of every kind winding.

Meant for him to create the perfect puppet, something that had failed without the slightest of regrets upon himself. And yet, the experiment haunted him.

Not with the idea of regret, of course.

The Doctor's failure wasn't in the memories of those in the world anymore. Only his success; his power having reflected onto the land of Sumeru.

Something he'd been so foolish to call home before his formerly mortal, utterly human self had been re-educated and informed on how the world truly worked.

Swinging the scales of Tevyat with blood and clever fingers one project at a time.

And now, one stands before him. In the shell of what his lab had been at it's grandest, overgrown with foliage and surely a direct assault by that pint-sized Archon who toyed with her power and cleverly spun words. Enough for temporary respect.

But now, Dottore's gloved hands seize the limb of the kabukimono. Catching him where he stood, bared toward the very sight of the Doctor, and turning to twist a forearm against the slant of his back and the utterly Inazuman attire he wore.

How fitting.

His voice's almost a purr, akin to the growl of a Rishboland Tiger with haunches curved into attack. Something he'd used as an excuse against.. well, that was a memory of a name no longer his.

Self-shed.

Much like the marionette's.

" Well, Akihiko, what brings you back to the place of your personal torment? Do you truly wish to see how I can improve upon you on my tables once again? "

Sinister delight rings in his voice. Beaming.

Eager.

[ourblued]

without forewarning, the curse king punctures his throat, with inching his claws deeper into the other's skin, knowing that he's trying to get away. he's trying to be free of this -- his attack. however, sukuna has other plans for the other. the more he wriggles, the more sukuna will draw blood from his neck : not caring if he bled out right then & there. it's funny to sukuna, how someone like megumi could dare to step up to him. nonetheless, he's going to violently teach him a lesson that he's never had before.

in an instant, sukuna slams his head down on the concrete ground, as if he were a toy to be played with. allowing yuji to internally watch as sukuna's torturing the other, using him for nothing but a blunt instrument. noticing megumi's other arm, he grabs it, without any single regret --, another hunger striking from the curse king, licking his lips in deep amusement before he takes another bite of his other pointer finger, forcing the other to watch.

in pain, not in pain : the curse doesn't care. if megumi's zoning in & out, on the very brink of death itself, this is his ending.

his claws are deepening into megumi's skin, watching as nothing but red comes out, covering almost his arm, cackling in the other's face, noting that it's red -- with his own filth. sukuna's silently giving the other a look, rolling his eyes in the sheer disappointment : in how he was almost going to strike.

" look at you. a weakling, with no one to save you. " he remarks, pressing more & more, slamming his head onto the ground once again, waiting for nothing but blood to seep out. until he's nothing but dust, right? to be forgotten. to be nonexistent.

that's what he wants the most, to erase the other for trying & failing to come after him like this. with one twist of his fingers, he could kill him. he could do it -- though, eating his fingers whole was his one plan. however, he could end it all. sukuna could finally take them down, one by one. soon --, it'd be the girl with the hammer he'd have to take down. for now, he was going to enjoy this.

with his other hand -- yuji's other hand --, sukuna balls it into a fist, striking at megumi's face, punching him as hard as he can. then, finding other parts of his body, the weaker spots, hitting those are hard as he did his face. finding it all so . . . amusing that he's managed to not turn one, but two jujutsu sorcerers into a blank space of void. as soon as he's done hitting repeatedly, sukuna manages to inch his way into the other's chest, nearly finding his heart by hearing it beat.

another prize for him to win.

".....I SUMMON...."

he was already getting his hands into the next formation when--

--FAST!!!

faster than he could perceive, the curse closed the space between them. megumi hadn't even been able to catch a breath when ice cold claws curled around his throat. the words died on his tongue as he struggled to breathe. the strength was unreal, yuji's strength being wielded by the works of evil.

megumi choked out a sound, writhing to try and break free. his feet slipped along the floor, unable to find purchase to break the hold. he was so busy trying to free himself that he'd left himself open and vulnerable to an attack he could never have fathomed. sukuna's cursed technique, his domain, he had anticipated them. he hadn't anticipated his malice, his imagination and his cruelty.

he couldn't even scream. he was silenced, making pained choking sounds as a cold sweat broke out over his body in sheer agony. he'd never been in pain like that before, helpless as the other made a meal of each finger individually.

his vision was blackening at the edges, barely able to gasp little breaths by how tightly he was restrained. the pain, the desperate gasps for oxygen.... he was sure he was going to die. gojo had warned him of this... that every sorcerer dies alone. even now as he stared helplessly into yuji's face, his own coloring going a sickly pale, he only saw those tiny red eyes, full of hatred and joy. and then that face spat his own blood back in his face.

he couldn't respond, even if he wanted to. he was trembling from shock and agony and his head was spinning. the hand that was still intact reached up, pressing on sukuna's forearm and trying to pry it off his throat feebly. he wasn't going to die without his dignity.

[yourlocalhazbintrash]

A Random Patron: *Incredibly Fast With an Incredibly Strong Southern Drawl* My family was a travelin' family. We liked t' go t' places like Jawja an' see de sights! Sometimes we liked t' walk 'round the ar'a and just have a good time wit'out any sorta itin'ry t' guide us!

Charlie: Uh...

Angel: She said "My family was a traveling family. We liked to go to places like Georgia and see the sights! Sometimes we liked to walk around the area and just have a good time without having any sort of itinerary to guide us!"

Vaggie: How did you catch all of that?

Angel: I used to have a friend with a drawl like that. It took a while... *With a Southern Accent* But soon 'nough I learned how t' walk, talk, an' act like a Sou'ern Belle ready t' take her friends out on a trip 'round de world! Would'n' y'know, next thin' dat happened involved a machete, two cows, and de worst ice tea I have ever had in both my life and deaf!

[thorraborinn]

I do understand the issues with edred thorrson, but what is your opinion on the efficacy of his practices of visualizing the runes in a three-dimensional space and using them similarly to sigils? thanks!!

Efficacy for what? You gotta at least give me some page numbers or a summary or something. I don't know Thorsson's system off the top of my head and I don't like reading any more of his shit than I have to. I also don't really know anything about sigil magic. As someone who blogs about actual Nordic traditions this question really has nothing to do with me, and only intersects with my knowledge at all insofar as I'm an antifascist and Thorsson promotes and popularizes völkisch mysticism.

If you're doing sigil magic but with runes rather than some other letters than there's no reason you can't just use the other letters. What's that have to do with Thorsson? Maybe he wrote about it, I dunno, but why wouldn't you read literally any other source about sigil magic? He seems to think that visualizing galdrastafir increases their magic which seems to be pulled out of his ass, or wherever he got it from it has fuck-all to do with any Icelandic tradition. This comes along with his lying about galdrastafir having continuity with pre-Christian magic. The truth is they are more in-context with, like, Shams al-Ma'arif than with the Eddas, which is fine, and the only reason to lie about that is if your system is built on a nonexistent ahistorical "purity."

The only effect that visualizing runes would ever have is increasing your visualization skills, which is fine, but you can do that with anything else; and possibly reinforcing the incorrect idea that runes have fixed shapes. If you absolutely must use runes then... don't? Keep learning until you know enough to stop wanting to do it with runes?

Generally in Thorsson's system visualization has a different purpose, and he also didn't make that one up. He got it from Spiesberger's Runenmagie. I'm not sure if it was fully-formed before Spiesberger or if he synthesized it himself, but boy he sure does cite a lot of Nazis in that section -- Wirth (co-founder of the Ahnenerbe), Marby (the inventor of Rune Yoga), Kummer, Peryt Shou, and of course this all ultimately goes back to Guido List who is said to have started his system with a mental image dumped into his head. It's one of a set of practices that one is supposed to do, like write or paint the rune, chant its name or sound, and do "rune yoga" poses and "mudras," the result of which is supposed to that pure eternal knowledge of the cosmos is beamed directly into your consciousness from the Runenströme. This is just an extremely shitty, shallow parody of Kabbalah, supplemented with a little shitty, shallow parody of Yoga meditation (as in, like, Patañjali, not your local hot yoga studio). Unlike the Jewish cosmology where there are reasons and explanations for why meditation has certain effects, there's obviously nothing like that in a Nordic cosmology, though there is in a Nazi mystic cosmology. In Spiesberger it all makes perfect sense according to the fake scientific-sounding terminology invented over the previous several decades by Völkisch occultists -- it works because you're increasing your automagnetism, allowing... I dunno, resonance with the cosmic rune-currents or something. Thorsson couldn't mention all that (because he'd be rightly laughed at), and he isn't creative enough to come up with a new explanation that fits the expectations of his audience, but fortunately for him people are so gullible and unquestioning that he actually got away with just not saying anything at all. If this practice has any efficacy it's to make you more disconnected from reality with a side of antisemitism.

If this doesn't cover what you mean then feel free to follow-up but if I have to actually flip through his books again I'm going to die of a heart attack and be unable to respond.

[mindofasupernova]

Someone you loved

Kaz Brekker x reader

Mr. Sandman Part 2

Inspired by the song "Someone you loved" by Lewis Capaldi

I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me

This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy

Kaz's mind was a raging storm, an ever-shifting landscape. His heart was madly racing and he feared that if it didn't stop soon, it'll burst out of his chest.

Two days had gone by and yet there was no information about Y/N's whereabouts. No one had made an effort to contact him asking for money in exchange for her safety, no blackmail, nothing. Kaz knew the probability of Y/N being alive was shrinking as the days passed.

Kaz felt terrible, guilt crushed his heart in a vicious grip. If he hadn't kicked her out, if he had taken back his words, if he had just... No, thinking about what ifs wouldn't bring Y/N back home. If she's still alive a cruel voice whispered in the back of his mind.

His mind drifted to his darkest memories, horrible images plagued his mind. Rotting flesh beneath his fingers, icy hands grabbing at him, threatening to pull him under the waves. Water filled his lungs, consuming his oxygen and living him in the dark. His head broke the water, gasping for air, Kaz looked around, trying to find something, anything to grab to avoid drowning. Only that now instead of his brother's corpse, he saw Y/N's limp body floating above the water.

Kaz fell to his knees, the pain brought him back to reality. He was trembling, sharp gasps left his body, black dots covered his vision. Y/N would have told him to focus on reality, take in the details, count every little object he could find in the room. But Y/N wasn't here, and it was all his fault.

___________

I need somebody to heal, somebody to know

Somebody to have, somebody to hold

Y/N talked passionately about her latest read, making wild gestures with her hands as if to prove a point. Jesper's arm was slung across her shoulder, head thrown back in a laughing fit. When his cackles died down, Jesper leaned his head on Y/N's shoulder and started mocking her for being able to remember the exact place where phrases were in the book.

Kaz watched silently from his seat in the Crow Club, he knew those touches were purely friendly gestures, and still he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

On many sleepless nights, Kaz thoughts had wandered down a treacherous path, always finding their way to Y/N. His mind had been invaded by images of her: the smile she always wore when she was about to make a witty comment, the way she pursed her lips whenever he asked her to memorize an important document, the furrow of her brows when paying close attention to Kaz's plans.

He snapped out of it, angry at himself for thinking about her, he couldn't afford those thoughts. Kaz's life was dangerous and he had many enemies who wouldn't hesitate to use anything or anyone against him. If he left himself feel, if he let her in, he knew there was nothing he wouldn't do for her.

He had tried. He had tried to distance himself, push her away until his feelings dissipated to nothing. However, every time Y/N appeared in his office late at night just to talk about her day, every time she called his name, every time she sent a glorious smile his way, Kaz couldn't bring himself to say no.

And now, looking at Y/N from across the room, a sense of longing clouded his vision. Thoughts of sitting next to her, no space between their bodies, with no fear of touching reminded him of how miserably he had failed.

____________

It's easy to say, but it's never the same

I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain

Since Y/N's kidnapping, Kaz had gone completely feral. He had looked for anyone who could provide information. He had kidnapped, tortured, and even killed members of any other gangs he had his suspicions on. He was unstoppable, he wouldn't rest until his Y/N was safe. She isn't even yours because you kicked her out a scornful voice reminded him.

Kaz's whole body hurt, his limp was more prominent than usual, his knuckles were bloodied and a purplish bruise contrasted against his pale skin from a blow he had taken when he was beating the life out of one of the Dime Lion's informants.

How he wished Y/N was there. No matter how many times he came back to the Slat, covered in blood and clutching at his wounds, Y/N's gaze always turned into one of horrified worry.

Y/N had always healed his wounds after a mission, wiping the blood away very carefully in order not to touch his skin. Even when he wasn't bleeding and it was just his leg giving him a bad day or a headache that refused to leave him, Y/N always brought him medicine or tea depending on the situation.

But Y/N was gone and he might not ever see her again. His thoughts lurched him back to the ocean, dead things suffocated him. He clutched his cane tighter, he couldn't have a panic attack now, he needed to find Y/N.

_______

Now the day bleeds into nightfall

And you're not here to get me through it all

The night wrapped the dirty streets of Ketterdam in its wicked hold, the moon loomed ahead casting a palish glow through Kaz's window. Another day had passed and he was no closer to finding Y/N.

He was alone in his office, clutching his cane tighter by the second, its sharp edges bruising his skin, and yet, the pain wasn't enough to keep the waters from rising, Y/N's form surrounded by corpses.

No, he couldn't think of her this way. He had to remain positive, he needed to hope Y/N was still alive somewhere, but for someone like Kaz, remaining positive wasn't something he strived on. Instead, Kaz looked inside his brain, searching for a memory of Y/N to avoid passing out and when he found it, he seized it and hung to it for dear life.

Kaz had heard people say love arrived at the most unexpected times, bloomed in the most unlikely places. People said love wasn't something you chose, something you could control, not a concept you could welcome or shut out of your life at your convenience.

Kaz deemed those people foolish, weak for not being able to control themselves, and as the cold mastermind he was, Kaz brushed off all of their comments. And he would have kept thinking that way if it hadn't been for Y/N during a warm summer evening.

The Crow Club was surprisingly empty, everyone was in a relaxed state, currently resting after a successful heist. Kaz had been working in his office, signing contracts when a soft knock sounded against his door, Y/N peered inside and after receiving Kaz's consent, stepped through the threshold.

Y/N sat in front of his desk, a small smile playing on her face, ensued by a moment of silence, Y/N started talking. Kaz's head perked up at the sound of her voice, eyes leaving the papers to direct his whole attention to her but he had been completely caught off guard by the sight before him.

Y/N's mouth was moving but Kaz's couldn't hear a thing, it was as if someone had stolen the sound so he could only focus on Y/N's heavenly form.

Y/N's hair was slightly disheveled, gusts of wind occasionally brushing lonely strands into different directions, soft locks swishing in compass with a nonexistent melody. Sunset rays filtered through the window, lighting up Y/N's features. Sunlight beams fell gently down the slope of her nose, gently caressed her long lashes, and kissed her tender lips giving them a reddish hue.

At that moment, Kaz realized how dreadfully unjust the world was. How come was the wind able to run his breezy fingers across her beautiful hair? How could the rain brush her skin lovingly without repelling at the idea of skin contact? Why could the Sun kiss her graceful lips and he couldn't?

Kaz wanted to hold her, reach for her whenever he wanted without fear of drowning. He wanted to hug her and nuzzle his nose in her hair affectionately. He wanted to know what her skin felt like under his fingertips. Kaz wanted to know the taste of her lips.

Because he was in love with her.

________

I let my guard down and then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

Y/N laid immobile in his bed, her skin almost as pale as his sheets, soft breaths escaped her lungs. Kaz sat in a chair near her fragile body, his frown deepened every time his eyes landed on a different wound.

Kaz felt like in a déjà vu, a vision that had happened exactly three weeks ago. This was the reason why Kaz had pushed her, why he had evicted her from the Slat, the one home she had ever known. But did it matter? All his efforts to keep her safe had been in vain.

That fateful night, when she had been the distraction in a supposed easy heist, everything had come tumbling down. The nightmares had started back then, where he first saw her all bloodied and beaten and unconscious. They didn't know if she would ever wake up. Kaz had refused to visit her, images of his nine-year-old self seeing her amongst the corpses in the Reaper's Barge haunted his days.

When she had woken up he'd wanted to see her, but he couldn't bring himself to because he knew what he had to do. Kaz couldn't bear the thought of her dying, he couldn't imagine her gone, but if he gave her hope, if she saw how much he cared, she would refuse to leave. He needed her to stay away for her safety

So he had done that, he had ruthlessly yanked his heart out of his chest when he had kicked her out. The words he had said to her tortured him since that day: "Do not think that just because I have kept you around for this long you're irreplaceable." And when he thought he couldn't feel more pain, Y/N had started crying. Silent droplets fell down her cheeks and Kaz felt as if the most savage assassin had ripped his heart into shreds.

I let my guard down and then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

Seating there, silently watching Y/N's closed eyes, he was experiencing it all again. When they had found her she had been tied to a chair, unmoving, in one of the Dime Lion's warehouses. He swore his heart had stopped beating, she couldn't be dead, when Nina had checked for her heartbeat and announced it was still there, Kaz's heart reanimated.

Nina had done her best to heal her and now the only thing there was to do was wait until she woke up. This time Kaz had refused to leave her bedside. This time he would do things differently.

He had been a coward, he now realized. He should have never let her go. He should have been braver, stronger, he should have protected her. Now he realized he wanted, no, needed her with him. He had been too scared worrying for the future that he had forgotten to enjoy the present. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

"Kaz?"

His head shot back to Y/N. She was awake, she was alive and he would never let her go.

And with such a fervent emotion, he couldn't have thought himself capable of expressing, he said "Please, don't ever leave me again. "

Thanks for the song recommendation @itsemy01

Taglist:

@getawayfrommewerewolf, @lady1505, @rika90, @thedelusionreaderbitch, @coffeewithoutcaffeine, @aleksanderwh0r3, @princessleah129, @subjecta13-thefangirl

[tragcdysewn]

she was all too pleased that their mother seemed to appreciate their sense of humor, even if it was a bit more dramatic than she thought her mom would tend to lean. "look, i am not going to tell you you're wrong, because i would love to see the mans medical scans. i think he'd be the first dead guy to have a heart attack, and i think he deserves more credit than he gets for being so dedicated to the drama." she replied, giggling a bit as they debate their father's nonexistent blood pressure. "i think you'll like her, they're kind of iconic, really."

they couldn't hold back their laughter as they listened to their daughter. even though bella felt like she had a lot of time to catch up on when it came to them and she wanted to know everything, know that they were both there, she could take their time and get to know the renesmee who was in front of them now. "i'm pretty sure your father somehow manages it despite being a vampire, which is a pretty amazing feat." laughter fell easily from their lips. "okay good. this might take some adjusting, but i really am looking forward to really getting to know my amazing daughter."

[catelyngrant]

Kara Danvers

My favorite thing about them: Her compassion and the way it touches and changes everyone she comes into contact with for the better. There's something really remarkable about a character who has suffered so much and not only remains hopeful and optimistic but uses that pain as motivation and a tool to make the world and the people around her better. One of the threads of her arc that I was most invested in was her feeling like she had to serve a purpose on Earth, that she had been sent there for a reason and had to live up to the expectations of her parents and almost justify her own survival - especially after she didn't get the chance to raise and protect Kal-El - and slowly coming to understand, through the people who love her, that she doesn't need to be Supergirl to make the world a better place. She does that just by being Kara, and the most important part of Supergirl is her heart, not her powers. (There's a reason "Human For A Day" remains one of my favorite episodes!)

My least favorite thing about them: So this is definitely partly flaws in the writing, but I wish she advocated for herself more in some circumstances and didn't just skim past/bury hurts inflicted on her by people she loves. I was glad to see her snap at Cat in "Red Faced", her laying into Mon-El in "In Search of Lost Time", and finally getting real with Lena in the hundredth episode, but there were some really important things that she really just never addressed - all of the hurt and pain she felt from/towards Alura in season one was handwaved upon their reunion, and the impact of Clark abandoning her was only hinted at by Alex. She and Alex herself had some really serious fault lines stemming back to "Falling" but highlighted upon Jeremiah's return ("You're either a part of this family or you're not," OUCH) and again in the last few episodes with regards to Esme, and I really am bummed we never got to see them truly unpack or even have Kara explicitly address how hurtful and unfair those situations were. I also really was not thrilled with how the handled the aftermath of Lena's actions in season five (and her actions/prejudices going back all the way to season two) and how quickly and unconditionally Kara forgave Lena's truly horrific, personal, and intentionally and unnecessarily malicious actions and attacks. Forgiveness and compassion are core traits for Kara, but in that case I felt they came far too easily and minimized the impact of Lena's "redemption arc" to the point that it was pretty much nonexistent, and the harm she did to Kara specifically was just sort of forgotten. That was a disservice to both characters.

My favorite canon relationship: I was kind of figuring that the series would end with the hint of a developing Kara/William relationship, so SO MUCH FOR THAT, ughhh. I would've been into it, I really liked their dynamic and thought he'd have been good for her. I also like Kara/James - don't totally love how it was handled in season one, specifically the triangle with Lucy and the emotional affair plus James's reaction to Kara's trauma with Red Kryptonite, but I thought they were solid and they certainly deserved much, much better than they got.

My favorite non-canon relationship: I mean, Supercat, obviously. I love their canon mentorship/friendship/partnership, I love the idea of them having an actual romantic relationship, I love pretty much every iteration of their dynamic where they push each other to be better versions of themselves. I'm such a sucker for the grumpy/prickly one (with a soft heart, naturally) + the sunshine one (with deeply-rooted trauma for extra fun) dynamic and they hit every check mark for me. Still riding high on that part of the finale! I also really like Kara/Lucy and am forever sad that Lucy was one of the casualties after the Vancouver move.

The sexuality I headcanon for them: She'd probably be fine with any variation of bi/queer, but I lean towards pansexual.

What I’d do if I could spend the day with them: I'd want to be careful not to take advantage of her so I'd check with her first, but I feel like she'd probably really get joy out of taking people flying, etc., and seeing their reactions and how excited they get. So I'd probably ask her to fly me to her favorite restaurant/eatery anywhere in the world, buy her lunch, spend several hours just chatting because I think she'd be such an interesting person to talk to. Then I think we'd probably find a cozy place to hang out and watch a movie/TV show we both love while eating delicious dessert and having animated conversations about whatever we're watching.

Random fact about them I like: The fact that the resume she gave Cat when she first applied to be her assistant (the executive assistant of one of the most powerful people in the entire world who runs an entire media empire) listed the entirety of her work history as waitressing at Noonan's, a summer internship at a local newspaper in Midvale, and a part time nanny gig. Part of me imagines that Cat hired her partly bc of the sheer audacity of her even applying, lol.

[nineliabilityrisk]

Inflammatory words, an invasion of his personal space, that slow, deliberate demeanor — William was trying to coax something out of him. An admission, if nothing else. Trying to tempt him into saying something in the heat of the moment that he'd never, in his right mind, allow to surface ... and the worst part was that it was working. The accusations, damn near attacks on his attachment to William– the man knew good and well how he felt. Knew Henry cared far, far too much to only consider him a pretty face, a bed warmer. There was never a time where there weren't feelings involved, at least on Henry's end, and to imply that he'd ever be so cold as to think of Will in such a way — he knew William was just begging for him to correct it. To reassure him, to stroke his ego.

No, William, I'm hopelessly in love with you, I always have been, why would you ever think I wasn't? You're everything to me. Everything I have. Love doesn't even begin to cover it, anymore. Was that what he wanted to hear?

Why did he even need it put into words? Every single little thing Henry did on a day to day basis served to show his devotion a million times over. He was no good with his words, never had been, and it wasn't exactly like his skills improved when he was this thoroughly intoxicated. William wanted him riled up, emotional — wanted him to say something he'd regret. That was the only reason he was pushing like this, it had to be– why else would he be trying to coax an admission out of him right now?

As much as the pressuring made his hackles rise, his unwavering trust in William eventually won out. It was a weakness of his, he knew it was, but William always managed to worm his way past his defenses within moments — fingers slipped in between his ribs to dig into his heart. A vice grip, applied to the softest parts of him in just the right way to feel more like a caress than a chokehold ... he was helpless to resist William's manipulations. Couldn't even imagine trying to, even now, as the man only kept poking and prodding at the rawness inside him with his words. Salt in the wounds, insult to injury — like his vulnerable state was only something to take advantage of.

The alcohol, the exhaustion, the pain, the damn near delirium — it all worked in William's favor. If he'd been in his right mind, if the man hadn't already dug himself in so firmly past every single emotional wall he'd built over the years, he'd be appalled at the blatant disrespect for his boundaries, but, as it was, he could only play along. Puppet on a string, hopeless to resist. Couldn't even see a reason to try. Felt like an exposed nerve, William's presence somehow both aggravating and soothing. He was the electricity sparking along his veins, the pins and needles setting in, misfiring signals in his brain — and yet he was also the soothing balm he needed to chase away the ache. No matter how hard he tried to provoke him, how his words prodded at those deep, sensitive parts of him, his presence was still addicting to Henry. Probably always would be, in some fucked up codependent way.

"Will..." Meant as a warning, coming out as more of a plea. A whisper of a touch — enough to shatter his confidence and any hope of resistance. Of holding back. "Be serious about this. Please." Stop tempting me. Stop pushing. The provocative words weren't helping the conflict in his head. "You can't expect me to ... to be ready for a talk like this. Not tonight, not now — I'm drunk. We both are. This isn't a conversation we should be having." Last little bit of reason holding out. Wouldn't be for long, though. He knew it was futile. Any hope of convincing Will to drop it, to let it be ... nonexistent. William was never one to be deterred from anything he set his mind to — was far too obsessive for that, a fact Henry knew far too well.

A twitch of his fingers, an abortive movement to grab onto William's hand, to give in to the anchoring touch. No. He was trying to make a point here, he couldn't... "You are here for me. You always have been ... more than anyone else," he admitted, gaze averted, nerves too frayed to even look at the other man. Knew that, if he did, he wouldn't be able to resist the urge to collapse against him — to give in, that easily, to the offered comfort, the sense of security the man's presence brings — or to do something else equally as stupid. Like kiss him. That definitely wasn't a persistent urge in the back of his head.

"You know ... how I feel about you. Don't act like you don't. You don't need me to tell you." Don't make me tell you. "We've gone this long without ... without putting a name to it. Why do you need one now?" Now, when I'm at my lowest, when I can't even track what words are spilling out of my mouth and which ones are staying stuck in my head, when I'm sunk so deep into this pit, this grief — what makes you think it's appropriate? And what is making it so hard for me to tell you to stop?

Shoulders slumped inwards, curling into himself — even throughout their shouting match, he couldn't gather up the energy to heave himself out of his desk chair, not when he felt so weighed down with his mourning that his bones very well could've been made of lead. Letting William loom over him, first from across the desk and now from only a few scant inches away, crowding into his space. Oh, how he wanted to just lean into his grasp, to feel the solid warmth of his body against him — concrete proof that he was still there. Still alive, still breathing ... that he still had him. Yet he couldn't bring himself to. Felt that accepting the comfort, the peace of mind, would be some kind of betrayal to Charlie. His grief, his mourning was all he had left of her. Who was he to let himself get distracted? To let himself find respite from it all, if only for a few moments? Charlie hadn't had anyone there to take care of her, and that was his fault — how could he let William take care of him? He didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve to be saved from this, no matter how hard he wished he could.

"I don't..." A pause. Unsure — words not coming easy to his addled mind. "I don't know what you want from me. I do love you, William. There was never any question of it — and I know you know that. So ... why? Why now, of all times?" Eyes finally lifted, head tilted back to study William's face, the movement only bringing them that much closer. He simply couldn't parse the other man's behavior. Why he'd been pushing so hard for an answer at this very moment was beyond him — it worried him, somewhat. What was he missing, here? If William's goal was to distract him from his turmoil, he'd succeeded — at least for as long as it took for Henry to get past his confusion. He simply didn't have the space to try and wrap his brain around this without pushing other things to the wayside.

you know i’m in love with you, right? HENRY

" you know i'm in love with you , right ? "

[[ oh dear god. okay. here we go (/pos) this was probably not the direction you were expecting it to go but i uh. my brain. it took it and ran ]]

-- [ asked by @trapton ] --

The words froze Henry in place, swirling emotions in his mind coming to a screeching halt before roaring back to life tenfold.

He and William had been arguing for the better part of an hour — over what, Henry couldn't tell you. Mainly because there was no real 'what'. Henry'd just been shut in his office working himself to death for the past sixteen hours because he didn't want to go back home to an empty house and William had found him sobbing at his desk and it had just escalated from there.

He didn't want to fight — didn't have the energy to, what with the lack of sleep and the pounding headache and the gaping hole in his chest — but William had just kept on pushing. Asking him why he was still there. Why he stank of alcohol and sweat and why he looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Threatening to forcefully remove him from the premises if he didn't go home willingly.

Henry had thought he would understand, at least a little, having lost a child of his own, but he just didn't seem to get why Henry was so reluctant to return home. Why he didn't want to step back into that big family house that used to be home to him and Charlie and her mother.

It was so quiet there, now. It threatened to drive him mad. There was a reason he wasn't exactly eager to go rushing back. Not when the photos of all three of them still decorated the walls, the mantle. Not when he still couldn't bear to face them long enough to take them down.

The part that William hadn't seemed to get about all of this was the isolation Henry faced. They'd both lost their children, yes, there was no denying that. He knew good and well that William had loved his youngest like an extension of his own body. But he hadn't been left alone to grieve. To wallow in his misery. When he wasn't with Henry at work, he had his wife and remaining kids to return home to. Even if they were in no state to provide comfort, they were still there. He had the sound of family life continuing on in the background to chase away some of the grief. The guilt.

Henry, on the other hand, was the single father of an only child. Charlie was all he had. No close relatives, siblings, cousins — Hell, his reclusivity meant he hadn't even had any friends to turn to besides William.

William Afton, the only person Henry had left in his life. The one who, unbeknownst to him, had orchestrated events for years to guide him to this conclusion. The sole reason he was so reluctant to leave the building — the knowledge that William was still here, somewhere, had been the slightest bit soothing, had been enough to keep Henry from diving too deep into that part of his mind that kept telling him it was his fault. That Charlie would still be alive if he had just been there. If he wasn't always so preoccupied with work. If he'd just spent more time with her, like she'd asked him to.

... The man who wouldn't stop fucking fussing over him. Okay, maybe Henry had snapped at him. So unlike him, he knew that, he knew he would regret every single word coming out of his mouth later, but he was tired and hurting and he'd had enough of William's prying words. Of his insistence upon taking care of him. He didn't want to be taken care of. He wanted to stay shut in his office and drink himself into a stupor and pass out on his desk and wake up the next day and do it all over again until maybe he forgot why everything hurt so much, and William wasn't letting him do that.

"Why do you care so much?" he'd snapped, voice as firm as it could possibly be despite his tears. "I'm a fucking wreck, William. I just lost my fucking kid. She's dead. Because I wasn't there to watch her. 'S my fucking fault. What– what do you care about how I cope with it? 'S not like you were any better." A low blow, he knew that, knew Will didn't deserve it, but he was too far gone to filter himself. "What stake could you possibly have in this? Why won't you just leave me alone?" Because that's all I ever am these days. Alone. Don't leave me alone, I don't want you to leave me alone — just don't make me leave. I can't leave. Can't go home. I need to be here. With you.

Words gone unsaid — at least he hoped they had. The look William gave him after his outburst, though... Was it pity? Concern? Judgement? He feared he'd said more than he should have, until–

"You know I'm in love with you, right?"

Henry's intoxicated brain couldn't decide if he wanted to kiss the man or punch him in the face. What the fuck was he supposed to do with that? Like, genuinely. Because, well, there was the answer to his question, but ... "That was the worst timing you've ever had for anything in the entire time I've known you. Don't even–" he held up a hand to silence William, the other coming to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Fuck, his head hurt too much for this– "no, no, hush. No. You've actually got to be kidding me. You're an asshole, William. You don't get to use that as — as leverage, or whatever. Not right now. Genuinely, what the fuck is wrong with you."

Despite his words ... that was something he'd been waiting to hear from William for God knows how long now. The shock had been enough to knock the fight out of him, and now he just felt... Lost. Why wasn't he listening to Will? If Will ... he couldn't even think it, but if he actually cared like that, seeing Henry like this must've been tearing him to shreds. Resisting, refusing his care... He wasn't only hurting himself. He hadn't even been considering the other side of this situation.

"I'm... Sorry. About all this," he eventually muttered, dipping his head. "And we'll... Talk about that. Later. When I'm not... Like this. But I — I still can't go home. You can't make me. I can't be alone right now, Will." It wasn't an outright request — he wasn't bold enough to make one, not when he wasn't even sure what he wanted in the first place — but he hoped William would pick up on it. He needed ... something. Needed Will to stay with him, no matter what. If it was here, or at home, or wherever the hell, he didn't care. He just didn't feel stable enough to let William out of his sight at the moment.

[afandommultiverse]

Rival - Langris Vaude

Word Count - 2252 Request -  

A/n: Enjoy and remember to vote! I got some more coming out soon too!! Not completely gender - neutral but damn near- sorry I switch while I write..

"Sir Langris? This will be your new disciple." A lower member from the Golden Dawn a girl following him, head tall. Langris said nothing to his fellow member and instead looked at him to leave his office. Of course, they did, leaving you and your new teacher alone.

"So, you're one of the newest recruits? Hmm... you don't look like much." Well, he didn't really look anyway, still looking down at some paperwork left on his desk by Wiliam to go over.

"Yes, well, I could say the same about." Langris froze. You watched as he tensed, his hands tightening slightly.

"What did you just say?" Langris looked up anger, from her comment and the disrespect. What the hell was William thinking when he- Oh. Langris' breathing stopped when his eyes fell on you. Soft and feminine but the fire in your eyes held independence and will.

You were gorgeous. 

"I will not let you speak to me in such a manner. I am your superior and you will treat me with the respect I deserve."

"Yes, you are my Superior, but you have been nothing but rude and ignorant since I have arrived. So I will treat you with the respect you earn." Your arms were crossed, your eyes glaring down at him. He was almost intimidated. Almost.

How was it he felt so powerless under your gaze? He didn't like it. He wanted his power back.

So he laughed. It caught you off guard and no doubt sent chills down your spine. It was so emotionless and empty but at the same time completely normal and happy to the untrained ear. Langris grabbed a piece of paper and quickly began to make a list, chores would be your training for the next week or possibly longer. It was stupid, but he'd make it hell.

"When you decide to treat me as I should be, maybe ill think of actually letting you on a mission," he slid the paper to you and stood walking away carelessly and strode to the door.

"But for now, have fun cleaning up after everyone." The door slammed shut and Langris' careless demeanor fell. The anger began to radiate from his body and before he knew it, he was stomping his way to his Captain's office.

William felt the anger before it was even in the room, and at that moment he knew Langris had met you. The door was knocked on furiously, he may be angry but he wasn't a fool.

"Come in." The door opened fast and shut quickly with a loud bang before Langris strode over to the chair in front of William's desk and sat down.

"I'm sorry, Captain, but what were you thinking when choosing her?" William fought hard to stop the smirk from pulling up his lips.

"Y/n wasn't chosen. The Wizard King ordered her to be placed with the Golden Dawn." Langris stopped, the Wizard King wanted you here?

"Why?"

"She's powerful." William was short, staring into the eyes of Langris.

"That's it? She's powerful? She didn't feel like it if anything she had pretty average mana-

"Langris, did you even check?"

"Of course I did-"

"Then you wouldn't be here right now." It was then Langirs felt it, the immense mana emitting from below him. It was like a beacon- and yet he didn't even notice it when he first saw you. It was like it had balanced around the room- taking life in ordinary objects to make the room feel as though it was the same. What the hell were you?

"Where are they from?"

"The Witches Forrest."

"What? I thought they hated men and stayed in their little Forrest."

"Yes, well Y/n's, a different case, and we don't need the Queen of Witches knowing about her yet. She's not to go on any missions yet. We are to wait for clearance from the Wizard King." Langris had no problem with that, but he couldn't help but be more intrigued by you now.

Hiding from the Queen of Witches, who were you?"

~~~

"You missed a spot." Langris swiped his finger over the window seal, picking up nonexistent dust. He wiped his finger gently on your shirt as he stared at you condescendingly. 6 weeks of this shit- and you were over it.

"That it!" You ripped the gloves off your hands and dropped all of your cleaning supplies. The mana around began to grow, almost boiling the room with its intensity. Langris stepped back, watching as purple flamed expanded from your body and burn around you. Unease filled his body as he looked at you, his heart pounding in his chest but his legs wouldn't move.

"If I wanted to be a maid, I WOULD HAVE STAYED IN THAT GODDAMN FORREST!" He couldn't stop staring at you. You looked like a goddess, ready to reap hell for the pain he caused you.

Then it all stopped.

The overwhelming sense of mana was gone, along with your flames. Your body was tight and tense as you looked down, arms shaking with the effort to hold your anger in. It felt as though Langris could move again, but he didn't. He stared at you with wide eyes like a fool until some burst the door open.

"Sir Vaude! Are you all alright? I-"

"I'm fine. Return to your post immediately."

"But sir-"

"Now!" The guard turned to close the door and left, leaving the two in silence again.

"Y/n-" But you were storming off, slamming the door and leave Langris alone. It hurt him to see you leave like that and he had no idea why. Over the weeks you've been here, you had filled his mind at all times of the day and it was driving him mad. Was this a spell? You had to of been doing this to him on purpose.

Langirs's office door was slammed shut for the last time that night as he walked off to William's. Just, as usual, William felt Langris coming to his office before he saw him.

"Langris." William acknowledged him as he sat in front of the desk harshly, sort of throwing his body in the chair instead of actually sitting.

"Your upset."

"That damned witch put a spell on me," Langris grumbled looking to the side, ashamed to admit it.

"Excuse me?"

"Where ever I go I can't stop thinking about them, and their hair and how bright their eyes are! Not to mention that stupid little thing they do when their thinking, chewing on-

"Langris, they didn't put a spell on you." William smiled childishly at Langris, and Langirs did no like it. "What do you mean? They had to!" Langris cried. William leaned back in his chair and stared at Langris.

"You like her."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I- ARG!" Langris stood from the chair out of frustration and walked to one of William's bookshelves, holding old scripts and treasures worth thousands, maybe more.

"They won't ever like me back," Langris whispered the truth and weight of his actions to you settling on his chest.

"Not with the way your acting now, no."

"Then what should I do?"

"Leave it to me."

"What?" Langris turned back to look at his Captain. William was standing and cleaning up his desk before walking to his door.

"You are going to apologize to Y/n and release her of her chores and she is to be on the next mission."

"What are you-"

"Just go, Langris, I have business to attend to." William held the door open and waited for Langris to walk through it. He did and turned back to look William one last time.

"The last thing, be nice, okay?" William could only nod before the door was shut in his face.

Langris stood there for a bit, confused about what just happened, but William was right. He needed to apologize.

That what led him here, to your room, hand raised to knock. But before he could, the door swung open and there was you.

"Sir Vaude?" You question before your eyes narrowed and your mouth sneered. He hated that expression on your face, he hated that, that was the face you made when you looked at him.

"I-," Embarrassment and pride welled up in Langris throat as he tried to apologize to you. And it as unsettling, he was shaking and sweating and thinking real hard. It looked painful.

"Langris, what the hell are you doing?" You snapped at him, annoyed with his antics, and though you probably shouldn't have done that to your superior- you didn't care. He sighed and looked you in the eye blankly staeing,

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the way I have treated you. It was wrong of me, especially when you were right. You are removed from your chore duties and will be assigned to the next  possible mission." As soon as Langris was finished, he turned and walked away hurriedly trying to run away from the weight chasing on his shoulders, but you stopped him.

"Langris, wait!" He stopped, turning to look behind him slightly, prompting you to continue.

"Thank you." His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

"For what?"

"For saying sorry. No one has ever done that before."

"No one ever told you sorry?!" Langris turned and turned towards you in astonishment. Feeling the bitest of anger well inside him.

"Never." He calmed and stopped. Looking down at the ground before him, he had no right to be angry at the ones who wronged you when he himself did you, but he isn't them.

"That is truly a shame, but I will do anything I can to make sure that never happens to you ever again." He really played up the Nobel act but not in a snobby way, and he could tell you enjoyed it by the small smile you tried to stop pulling at your lips before turning away and walked back to your room.

"Goodnight, Sir Vaude."

~~~

The next day you were sent on a small mission to guard some noblemen and women. Halfway through the trip it was attacked but it was useless, you effortlessly defeated the thieves quickly and quietly to make sure that the children and newborns wouldn't wake or cry.

With the outstanding success and gratitude of the wives and party was thrown in celebration. It took place in the golden dawn courtyard. It was in full bloom with any color of flower visible all around you. 

Everyone was to attend including the vice Capitan Langirs, and he couldn't be any more miserable. Until he saw you, giggling and laughing with your fellow knights, Yuno, Klaus, and Mimosa.

"Go talk to her." Langris turned to look to his side and saw William.

"I'm sure she doesn't want to see me and ruin her celebration."

"And how do you know that?" William turned to look at Langris and dark look in his eye.

"She would be naive not to hate me."

"Naive or understanding?"

Langris turned and left distancing himself from William, and you and anyone else who wants to push him tonight. It was when he had escaped to a quiet walkway along with the darker flowers that you snuck up on him.

"You've been avoiding me." You spoke. Langris steps stopped and he turned to look at you. You were gorgeous. Downed in a dress that fits you perfectly, the color bringing out the hues of your eyes. The celebration far into the night now, the moon showed down on you, and your skin looked as though it was glowing. You made him speechless and distracted him to no end and he hated it. But the thought of losing the sight of you killed him.

"I've been avoiding everybody." You nodded and walked forward, your fingers brushing against dark petals, and as you did this, the tiny fairies which lived in the petals woke and began to flutter around you. They glowed and flew around whispering and waking their sisters furthering lighting up the area around them.

"I never realized how beautiful this place was," Langris spoke as he looked around himself, amazed at the sights he had been taking advantage of. When he turned back to look at you, you were in front of him smiling kindly. His heart seemed to pound and he felt like he couldn't breathe and then your hand lifted to his cheek and he froze altogether.

"I like to think I'm understanding." You whispered smiling deviously up at him.

"How- ....You-But" Your sweet giggle filled the air and you leaned against him as you tried to control your amusement. Before he knew it he was holding you against him, his hands traveling without him realizing and when he did he felt as though he was going to explode.

"I- uh is this o-okay?" He looked down at you nervously before looking off to the side, and fairy laughing at him catching his attention. He was about the yell and the dan thing before you grabbed his jaw softly and turned him to look at you. "Perfect." You lent forward and pressed your lips against him softly. He stood there like a fool before he really understood what was going on. But he pulled you closer and kissed you back a little hard and loving none the less.

[frogsandfries]

I know complaining and fretting about it

Is not going to solve the problem.

I just don't understand.

I don't understand why I'm still here, in Oregon. I don't understand why he's choosing her when they barely seem to have a relationship. I don't understand why he would choose to make things harder for himself let alone both of us..... I can barely empathize with owning my friends' mistakes, when I think anyone with good sense would understand their heart was in the right place. But this little shit thought she was being attacked. I'm really trying not to go off about how the girls in his life used to be a lot more cruel, and numerous. We're adults, though, trying to communicate with a child who thinks this is the only man she'll ever love, who will ever love her. But..... it's over and done. They've both made their choices and this is the way things are going, and our options are already just about nonexistent. Time is running out.

Sure, I can see things would be easier if we teamed up. I don't know why he's choosing to make things harder.

I'm trying to look out for myself. I'm making calls, sending applications, I'm getting out and looking. I'm looking online. If and when phones don't get picked up, I leave messages. I try again. I'm not really sure what else to do.

Things would be easier if he wasn't dating a child. (Which, aside: Today's supposed to be her birthday, so he declined hanging out watching anime or playing video games to spend time with her last night. But as far as I could tell, he didn't call her or anything. He's got the car; he could've gone outside.)

I'm not fucking leaving.

There's no life back in Wisconsin for me to go back to. All that's there is my family, and my few remaining possessions that I absolutely will not get rid of. I mean, after all, if you packed it all into a few large totes just so, those totes would all easily fit into my van, and I might still have room to sleep. I don't have much left after years of being unable to find my place. I've found my place. I've found a place that, if I can take a life lesson from the lichen and hold on, could be good for me. I had a rough start here, but I also had someone who cared and supported me the best he could, while doing his best to support someone who means a lot to him. I knew before I got here that I would need that support. I guess I took for granted that I was in good with the girlfriend, and that was what mattered. I guess I figured my friend would be as grateful for my eventual support, as I was for his initial support. I guess I assumed he would be a greedy for a better life as I am.

I'm greedy for a better life. I don't care where I live--ffs I'm seriously considering a minivan and fuck it, I'll shower out of a bucket, so long as I'm not sleeping on the streets--I have a good job that pays good money. I want the rest now: I want family and my career. I want to eventually maybe buy a home, raise a child or two, maybe co-parent with some friends. I came here thinking I'd have a family--and maybe that's the difference between me and my friend. Looking for love has done me no good, but at his core, he's a romantic. Perhaps if, when he'd first reached out to me again, I had asked him to take me away, I might have a different tune to play. I know he'd be good for me, but maybe I'd be no good, or the wrong good, for him. I don't know. I'm probably not crazy enough in all the wrong ways. I do believe we could've been a team for a long time if he'd never left my life. When love seemed to repeatedly fail me, I decided to turn my focus to the people who might've failed me, but always kept trying. To me, family is more constant than love, and it's what's worth investing myself in. I just want family, because in my opinion, that's the key to a full life. And in our age, it's no longer practical to make it on your own. So why not try to make it with a community of people who've been in your life? People who know you, you know them, you can tell stories about them, you have history, and you've always come back together.

Maybe that's what some of this is? That even though I've told him, my dad is never there for me when I need, how I need, and then I turned around and said my dad might be able, might try, to help, that now I'm not going to be left to flounder on my own?

I got greedy to feel safe and secure. I thought it meant something that he came back into my life--when, in his experience, people come and go all the time. I didn't originally expect him to have any interest in me. But then he did. And he doesn't remember. And it's confusing and upsetting and it's almost worse than, honestly, someone telling me I was only good for sex. And now he's choosing this..... choosing her over me. Even though she has a home. She has her family.

And all it took was..... If you're still insecure after dating for three years, honestly, I don't think you're going to find security there. And maybe, just maybe, if he actually sent her back to her mom's, that's an understandable reason to be insecure. But I don't think being back together is going to improve the relationship. If you can't handle being apart, being together isn't going to change things.

I'm mad. I'm a little scared, but mostly aggravated. I'm irritated to see that he doesn't seem to have a plan either. We have days left. His asshole friend wants me out anyway because I don't like anime and I don't like videogames and if you aren't obsessed with his three narrow obsessions, you're hardly even human. If we had come to this point and his girlfriend still tolerated me, where would we be?

There aren't a lot of options....

The easiest, safest option I see right now is this:

There's a fifteen-dollar-an-hour job waiting for me in Wisconsin, if I go back. I throw out the roof extension plan and install solar immediately. Then my van is warm enough to work in all winter. Work on it with the money I'm earning working a miserable, depressing factory job, and come back with my van fully repaired.