#I might try to keep track and if anyone wants to yell about any of these in my ask box please do!!!

[roamingbadger]

Books read in 2024 so far:

- Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens

- Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan

[starry-bi-sky]

Part SEVEN of "Clone Danny"

Red Robin, Danny recognizes, steps away from him as he sits up. "My name is Phantom," he signs, blinking the exhaustion out of his eyes. (From Red Robin's perspective, it looks like he has no eyes. There lacks his signature green glow.) "I'm not a gang member, just an out-of-town vigilante."

Red Robin frowns at him, an uncertain grip on the bō in his other hand. "Phantom?" He repeats, no lacking amount of suspicion in his voice. "How can I believe that?"

Right. Yeah, okay, that's fair. Danny shrugs at him, and slumps against the wall. "Google search?" He gestures, he's been out in the daytime before and he's seen the news articles about him.

Red's eyes narrow at him and Danny simply draws his knees up and faceplants into them, half-listening to Red's murmurs into his comm while also trying to get some extra-shut eye.

("Oracle, can you pull up anything on a vigilante named Phantom? The guy here is claiming to be one." Tim says.

"On it."

"Is this Phantom wearing a white mask?" Bruce asks, his voice gruff like an aftershock. "There's a vigilante who shares the same name, but he resides in Illinois."

"Is this guy from that Amity city you visited ages ago?" Says Tim, before shaking his head. "Don't answer that. Yes, he's wearing some freaky mask. I said it reminded me of Hood's helmet for a reason."

"I've got something," Oracle interrupts, "Bats' right. as usual. The Phantom of Amity Park, not much stuff of this guy but he's only been out for over a year. Apparently, his rogues' gallery consists of ghosts."

"Oh great.")

"Look tell the Batman that I'm sorry for trespassing on his turf," He signs irritably when Red Robin eventually starts talking to (re: interrogating) him again. "It's not like I want to be here."

"How did you get in Gotham anyways?" Red Robin questions, batman was on his way to help deal with the situation but Tim doubted he wouldn't get caught up on the way with dealing with petty crime. "Your turf is nearly a thousand miles away from here."

"Two words." Danny deadpans, "Teleport ghost." (Red Robin winces sympathetically.) "I'm keeping this bastard in the thermos for a month for this alone."

(Danny was ignoring the slow-choking anxiety growing in his lungs over how he was gonna get home. He never takes his phone when he goes out, the risk of breaking it was too high. He had no way of contacting anyone to get him home.)

(He swallows the growing lump in his throat, and buries the feeling in the back of his mind.)

"Thermos?"

Danny unclips his Fenton Phantom Thermos off from his belt loop and shows it to Red Robin. "My ghost-catching device," He says with one hand, tilting it carefully for Red to inspect. "I wish I could say I made it, but its a FentonWorks invention."

(He wasn't sure if it was a smart idea to say who it belonged to, but saying it wasn't his probably loosened up any tracks on him, right?)

"Do you work with these Fentons, then?" Red asks, and something dark and shadowy flickers from the corner of Danny's eye. He glances over, and sees nothing, and his hackles raise.

(Either that was Batman, or a ghost, or Danny's mind playing tricks on him. He couldn't feel his ghost sense building in his throat, so he decided it was either the latter of the former.)

Danny snorts, quiet and gruff. "No." He clips his thermos to his belt again, stifling a smile on his face. "The Fentons hate me actually, I prevent them from catching ghosts themselves. Their son gives me their tech."

He had a cover story, so he might as well stick with it, right?

Batman shows up at that moment, appearing atop the little roof where the door is, and giving Danny a heart attack when he speaks in his low, rumbly voice like thunder rolling in, "Why would they hate you for that?"

Danny shoots up to his feet with a startled yell in his throat, clutching his chest as he whirls around and looks up. He nearly runs into Red Robin, and signs a few choice swears at the Bat.

"wow you're scarier in person, asshole."

"you didn't answer my question."

"Of course I didn't, you scared me." and Danny takes a trembling step back when the Batman jumps down and lands on the roof in front of him. He's faced ghosts before, but somehow the living is always scarier.

"But, um, the reason is a bit.. complicated, I guess." He says, fingers beginning to shake as his adrenaline wears off. God is he tired. He wants to go home. "The Fentons are the local ghost hunters and local crazies. I don't know if I can call them mad scientists because they're harmless to the living."

"But they're extremely anti-ghost. I've heard from their son multiple times the very unethical things they would do to ghosts if they got their hands on one."

Danny 'talks' a little more before calling it quits, even telling Batman that he can't tell him more without putting his identity at risk.

Plus, its getting harder and harder to hide his bone-deep exhaustion and his growing fear of being stranded in the most dangerous city in America with no way home.

"I would love to tell you more, believe me I'm dying to." Danny signs, shaky sarcasm dripping from his fingers. His hands are visibly trembling and he's withholding a slowly growing panic attack. "But I would like nothing more than to figure out a way to get home."

"Do you have no one to contact?"

"Sort of. But only one of them could probably come get me and get me back to Amity by sunrise. And I have no phone."

That one person being Ellie.

=====

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

Taglist: @the-navistar-carol @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour @luckybyrdrobyn @deeplyconfusedbear @epilepticnerd @beautifulmomenttodrawblank @sara0055 @blusunkhild @letmesayfuxk (?) @latheevening226 @tkiesai @rosedasy @meira-3919

[aishabbbb]

You're just so cute!

Part 2

Strawhats x Affectionate! Reader

Can be read romantically or platonically(except for Chopper! He is platonic.)

Enies Lobby mentions for Robin, but nothing spoiler worthy.

Characters: Chopper, Robin, Franky, and Brook

CHOPPER

We already know how he is with compliments😭

Will insult anyone who does

He just gets sooo embarrased.

But that doesn't mean anything to you.

So he has to get his A game on.

"You have Luffy's smartness!" "You are even more unfunny than Brooks jokes" "How are you more of a crybaby than Franky?"

"You smell worse than Zoro." "You're eyes are creepier than Robins!" "Why does Nami has less anger issues than you?!"

Ends up insulting the whole crew just to get you to knock it off.

But these attacks don't work so he stops them(Nami, Franky, and Usopp get mad at him for dragging them.)

He will never get used to them fully. But you can praise him without him immediately insulting you.

Once in a blue moon he might just accept it.

But that is rare.

Feels happy when you notice things others do not.

He likes praises from you as much as from Robin.

ROBIN

She is an enigma.

You cannot tell how she takes it.

She always gives the same response: a gentle smile and a thank you.

That is the extent you witness

But her head is always going haywire

Before Enies lobby she feels like you wouldn't be saying this if you knew her backstory.

She doesn't blame you, just can't believe it is actually genuine out of insecurity.

After enies lobby, at first she might think you don't again mean it because it might be out of sympathy.

But she realizes quickly that it is truthful.

She genuinely appreciates every compliment you give her after that realization.

Like Nami, she loves when you praise her character because being known as a demon child and evil since the age of 8 does wonders on ones self esteem.

She will still think she is somewhat undeserving, but her confidence and self esteem build up over time.

She will reciprocate any praise back.

When she doesn't actively try to compliment you, the praise is beautiful.

But when she is actively trying, they come off as kind of creepy.

Think Ishigami noticing Chika's Shampoo.

She will act exactly like Ishigami if you say that it is creepy(but say she wants to die in her head.)

Do not blame her she is trying!

FRANKY

Lets be real. He is the complimentor of the strawhats.

You can't compete where you can't compare.

When you start your complimenting campaign, he takes it as a competition.

If you praise someone, he comesback with two. If you point something out no one else noticed in your crewmate, he actually noticed first because he raised them, taught them to read, and gave birth to them.

You two always get into compliment battles. You say he is cool, well you are not just cool but awesome. If you think he is the best shipwright, well now you are the most SUPER best (crew job) in the world!

You just yell at each other, but instead of insults, it is just nice things. Nami has to threaten you two to shut up.

Yall get stares if you do this in public

You get annoyed with his antics, so you curate a plan to get him to stop.

We all know he can be a bit of a crier(he just has a lot of feelings.)

So you keep track of why he cries everytime, trying to find a pattern.

You find his weakspot.

"Franky, you are honestly such a good peeaon. I wish you were my older brother. You'd be the best brother in the world."

Cue water works.

He cannot respond to you other than a thank you and a weak compliment back.

But it is clear to anyone that you won.

This doesn't stop any compliment battles though.

BROOK

Other than Luffy, he is the only one that doesn't reject the praise at first for some reason.

From the jump is chill about it and appreciates it.

This makes it easier for you.

But you have to put up with so many jokes.

I'm sorry I cannot do skeleton jokes, so I got these off of google

"Wow you are always so calm Brook!" "That's because nothing gets under my skin! YOHOHOHOHOOOOO!!!"

"You can play any type of music! Wow!" "But not church music." "Why not?" "Because I have not Organs! Yohoho!"

😐

Listen, i never said you won't have ANY difficulties.

He isn't as insecure as others but it still makes his self esteem better.

The praise makes him more confident in himself.

After being alone for so long, he deserves all the praise

He shows off his musical skills to you a lot kore than anyone else since who doesn't want to hear thet are the Shit.

[scribblewrites]

Just be with me

Katsuki Bakugou x gn!reader hurt/comfort

this is my first time writing so don’t expect much

this is very much just me projecting lol. Reader feels like crap, Bakugou comforts them. He might be a bit ooc

TW: mentions of SH, Reader has anxiety/breakdown and is overall feeling bad

take care of yourselves! ♥

— Bakugou sat in the common area as the smell of the class's dinner (now slightly burnt thanks to Kaminari setting the oven wrong) filled the air. He disinterestedly scrolled his phone, occasionally listening to the extras complaining about how hard Aizawa sensei had pushed them in training. A scoff was thrown in here and there from Bakugou’s place on the couch.

Motioning to get up and start yelling at Kaminari for ruining dinner, Bakugou stopped as his phone went off with a flurry of texts. Grunting, he opened his phone again

“Tch, what the hell is it now”

——————————Y/N——————————

7:14 PM -hey

7:14 PM-can you come to my dorm?

7:16 PM -soon, please

He stared at his phone, worry slowly forming on his face. Now that he thought about it, y/n hadn’t joined the rest of the extras after class like they normally do. They hadn’t been roaming the kitchen impatiently waiting for dinner like normal either. Suddenly their absence became increasingly prevalent in his mind. He noticed a slight change in their behavior the past few days but chalked it up to the stress of upcoming exams the whole class was experiencing.

“I’ll be back, gotta grab somethin’ from my room” Bakugou hurriedly walked towards the elevators before anyone could say something.

—Reader’s POV—

You were sitting crisscross on your bed, staring blankly at the wall in front of you desperately trying to control your breathing. The stupid overwhelming feeling in your chest sat heavy as you silently willed tears, sobs, anything to escape. Anxiety weighed you down the past couple of days. Ignoring it didn't work like you hoped, resulting now in the panic and shame suffocating you.

What the hell is wrong with me?

The sting of your outer thighs began to feel more and more intense. They were scratched to hell, red marks swelling slightly in the tracks of your nails. Small cuts were littered among the scratches. Not deep enough to cause any real damage or scar, but enough to now sit as an ugly reminder of your outburst mere minutes ago.

“Ughh, why did I text him” you groaned, pressing your palms into your eyes and laying back.

It’s stupid. You just didn’t want to be alone now. it hasn’t been this bad in months, shit maybe years. Over the weekend it got progressively worse and now you’re stuck, feeling somewhere in between numbness and regret.

knock knock

The harshness of the fist on your door gave away who was there. Slowly sitting up and letting out a shaky sigh you called him in.

“It’s open.” the door quickly swung open and shut as Bakugou stormed towards you.

“What the hell is up with your ominous ass texts? You’ve been actin’ weird all day and it’s throwing me off” It only took him a few strides to cross over in front of your bed.

He looked you up and down, finally analyzing your face after his rough entrance. His face shifted slightly after he saw the dullness in your eyes and the state of your legs. The normal disinterested look on his face remained, but you didn’t miss the subtle softening in his eyebrows or the concern growing in his eyes.

“Oh.”

“hey, too you too Katsuki” The half-hearted jab fell weakly from your lips.

“Shit. Um, I could-- do you want me to"

“No.” you interrupted his awkward attempt at figuring out what to do. “I don’t want you to do anything. Last thing I need right now is someone judging me or trying to fix this.”

You pulled your knees to your chest, trying to keep your voice level as you got your request out.

“just— just be with me.”

He paused briefly, clearly searching for a response. "Tch, yeah…I can do that.”

He shuffled a bit, pulling his hands out of his pockets and crossing towards you. A sigh of relief left you as you realized he wouldn’t judge you. He didn’t try and spew fake comfort, instead, he shoved you to make room on the bed. Reaching for your laptop, he settled in next to you and scrolled through YouTube.

After a few hours of watching dumb reactions and video essays, you melted into his side. At some point, you felt his rough hand lightly rubbing your arm. Sleep was creeping over you as your eyes burned from the bright screen. Picking up your phone, you registered that it was almost 11 pm. Katsuki would’ve normally been asleep hours ago.

“It’s past your bedtime old man” you joked as you shoved the time in his face.

“I’m not the one starting to snore, dumbass” he nudged your side with no real bite to his words.

“Rude!” you chuckled and weakly shoved him back in retaliation. Settling back into his side, sleep was finally winning. Before drifting off, you whispered almost inaudibly,

“Thanks ‘Tsuki”

you began lightly snoring before he responded, his head dipping to softly kiss your head.

“G'night, y/n”

hope y’all enjoyed this! pls leave any feedback, this is my first time writing anything like this and I’d love to improve ♥

[clumsiestgiantess]

New angsty g/t idea just dropped (into my head)!

First meeting between a human and a borrower only instead of trapping them or questioning them or even letting them go the human immediately helps them.  No questions asked.  Every time the human catches them they shower the tiny with a plethora of food and items that will help them survive and sends them on their way.  

The tiny is ultimately confused by such sudden and intense kindness they believe the human must be trying to trick them and doesn’t do anything with what was given to them.  They don’t eat the food or drink the water because it might be poisoned, they don’t use the resources given to them because they’re scared the human might have some way to track it. Unfortunately, without that help they don’t really have the resources to move anywhere else, so they ignore the human and move on. It doesn’t seem like the human has told anyone…

Eventually they end up with this huge waste of a pile of things they need that’s been gifted to them by the human, and it’s taunting them.  They need some of that stuff, but it’s just not safe. The human keeps leaving gifts out on counters, too.  Everywhere they look is some sort of suspiciously left-out item. And every time the human catches a glimpse of them they worry about how they’re not looking any better off.

The tiny starts getting anxious, paranoid even.  Are they even ‘borrowing’ anymore, or just taking things the human wants them to take?  Why is this human so insistent that they take what’s being offered?  Why are they so concerned with the wellbeing of something they shouldn’t have known existed, yet hadn’t even freaked out about when they found?!  What is this human plotting?!

Finally, finally, the tiny can’t take it anymore.  They go up to the human and start ranting.  They ask them genuinely, and terrified of the answer: “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m just helping y-”

“Why?”

The human takes a deep breath and confesses that there was another tiny that lived there before them.  They’d befriended this tiny and was very fond of them, but there was an accident.  Maybe they hadn’t watched where they were stepping.  Maybe they hadn’t heard them yelling to stop as the vacuum cleaner passed over them.  Maybe they were simply rubbing their friend’s back comfortingly and heard a small crack after accidentally pressing in too hard — watching their friend fall over limply in their grasp.

Whatever the case might’ve been, they’d felt such an immense guilt about it for so long and now.. finding another tiny.. god, they just want to make sure this little person has the happiest life possible.  

This human just really wants a second chance.

“Oh.”

I imagine the tiny then befriends the human afterwards, but they have to slowly guide them into a friendship because of how scared the human is of hurting them. And the human who they were so sure was maliciously playing mind games with them suddenly becomes a huge mess of nervous affection instead.

Will that lead to a suffocatingly overprotective giant, or a healing arc for the human to finally come to terms with, and move on from, what happened? Who knows?

[dullard]

ok heres my wakfu/waven oc sorry i wrote so much. In a few minutes ill add the text written on the image under a readmore. and also probably more text than that. sorry

The text on the image:

Siamont -Waven-era -runs orphanage -mute, no tail -Before Waven's great wave, he was a Sufokian fisherman along with his dad -He lost his younger brother (who he sort of raised) in the wave -With the influx of orphans post-wave, he started an orphanage -He's used to Sufokia's relative acceptance of less "humanoid" races. As a result, he doesn't want to associate with the countries because they tend to exclude or oppress "monsters" (He takes anyone @ the orphanage) (Arrow pointing to top drawing) -He's very patient with all children, but he has none for threats to them (mostly pirates) (Arrow pointing to his tail tuft in the left drawing) His tail was amputated when he was a child. Sufokian rogue pirate mafia incident. This trauma was why he initially stopped talking, he just never really started again. He still doesn't really like rogues. (Arrow pointing to him smiling nervously in the right drawing) Wishes the little iop would stop hitting crabs with a rock but she's so proud of herself he doesn't want to interrupt.

More text no one asked for:

He's very gentle with kids and has a small island orphanage that scrapes by on donations and goodwill. At high tide, there is no sand and the building (ramshackle. Siamont's been adding onto it and building it himself, mostly. As a result, it kind of looks like a boat, actually) looks like its floating on the water, but at low tide there's plenty of space for kids to run and hunt for extra food like molluskies and cwabs. Most of the kids' clothing seems to be repurposed from pirates. If you ask, the kids will tell you he sends the little ones off with the older children to take care of them before handling pirates by himself. Because they don't have much to steal anyway, there haven't been groups of pirates big or strong enough that he couldn't handle it, getting by without major injuries.

He takes on any kids at all that need help. This means trools, puddlies, taurs, and other less-humanoid "monsters." He does try to get children of those groups with their own kind if he can, but twelvians have a less communal child-rearing style, so most of the kids in the orphanage longer-term are twelvians.

Also, he tends to keep people in each of the cities aware that his orphanage exists. Many parents come looking for their children they lost track of during or after the wave. Mostly, this is where donations come from.

As a kid, he tended to be the "babysitter" for quite a few fisherpeople's kids, including his younger brother. He's just always liked kids, although he was less gentle when he was also a child himself and had a tendency to yell and get angry, which he doesn't have anymore.

Sufokia has a lot of pirate rogues who have a mafia-type hold on the Sufokian economy (source: wakfu game lol). He and his younger brother were getting into normal kid trouble and stuck their noses where they didnt belong. A pirate stomped his tail under his boot to stop him fleeing, and they toyed with him for an hour or so before letting him go (in spite of a lot of "well, he might talk- he could be a spy" type talk). His tail had to be amputated, and he just didn't really talk much after that.

His younger brother was studying to be a lawyer as he wanted to finally get some of the more open rogues behind bars for crimes that were hard to address to them. Siamont considered him to be the family's pride and joy, while his brother appreciated Siamont taking on the family profession with their dad and helping him pay for school. Their dad died sometime before the wave. Their mother was not present in their childhoods, and their dad didn't really talk about her much.

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

Another fic prompt that follows on from the previous but Solek embraces Teylan after they free him/he escapes back to them, he’s dressed more rda than ever and he’s covered in bruises. Teylan is conflicted.

(tw past noncon, past csa, trauma, age difference)

ao3

The other Sarentu keep close watch over Teylan in the days after he returns to them, ash in his hair and smoke trailing in his wake. They carry food in and out of his room, hover outside his door when he gets visits from the Anufi or one of the other Resistance medics, help him to the showers and refuse to let anyone else in until he's done.

So'lek watches them whisper together, lips close to each other's ears, or sign, a strange blend of human gestures adapted to fit four fingers and tail-and-ear movements that don't match any Na'vi sign language So'lek knows. Even Alma doesn't understand it, not that she would translate for him if she could.

Not that So'lek would want to translate, of course, to intrude. But...but he hasn't seen Teylan since they brought him back, and he is--concerned.

Four days after Teylan gets back (not that he's counting) So'lek finds the courage time to finally approach Teylan's door. Ri'nela slips out just as he draws near, shoulders tightening.

"You'll have to come back later," she says. "He's resting, he--"

"Ri?" Teylan calls from within. "Who's there?"

Ri'nela opens her mouth, but So'lek is quicker. "It's So'lek," he calls, and instantly starts to doubt himself. "I can come back later--"

"No, no, it's fine!" He can hear rustling movements, blankets being tugged. "Ri, let him in." A beat. "Ri..."

"Fine." Ri'nela moves away with a huff, watching So'lek enter carefully. "Yell if you need us, okay?" she tosses into the room, and then she's gone, tail twitching in her wake.

"Sorry about that," Teylan says, as So'lek closes the door behind him. 'They've all been a bit...overprotective." He snorts a jagged laugh. "Or maybe I should say paranoid."

He's sitting up in the bed, sheets pulled high, but not so high that So'lek can't see he's still wearing RDA clothes, albeit freshly washed. His cap is off, for once, resting on a desk next to him, and his hair is damp, like he's just gotten out of the shower.

There are bruises on his arms, along his throat. There are bandages where he had to cut out his own tracking chips after he blew up that base.

"I see you," So'lek says, gesturing tentatively.

Teylan opens his mouth, closes it, looks away. "Hi."

Not sure what else to do, So'lek crosses the room and carefully settles onto a heap of pillows at Teylan's side. He can see something on the bed besides Teylan, one of those human iterations of songcords that Priya calls a book. If he looks at it carefully he can decipher the Sky People writing on the cover, the words Growing Back Feathers: Aftermaths of Sexual Abuse for Survivors and Loved Ones.

"Sorry." Teylan blushes as he grabs the book and shoves it under the pillow. "Nor gave it to me, I don't...it was going around, I had some free time. It's stupid."

"It doesn't--I didn't mean to pry." So'lek fumbles for his pockets, trying not to accidentally pull out a stray dog tag or a grenade, trying not to think of the word sexual. "I wanted to give you this."

It might as well be a grenade for the way Teylan stiffens as So'lek pulls out the songcord. He presses back against the headboard, jaw tight, eyes darting anxiously over each of the tiny beads. "You found it?"

"After the battle." So'lek waits a long, awkward moment for Teylan to take the songcord before awkwardly setting it on the desk, next to the cap. "After you were taken." He clears his throat. "I am...sorry. That I didn't get to you in time."

"It's fine," Teylan says, in a way that sounds very not fine. He looks away, scratching his neck, and it's even harder than before to ignore the RDA logo stamped across his chest like a brand.

So'lek feels his tail wrap around his own leg, a child's anxiety, and does his best to ignore it as he speaks. "I can get you some new clothes--"

"No," Teylan says flatly. He squeezes his eyes shut, opens them to stare at nothing. "Sorry, but I don't...the bruises go everywhere. I don't want people to see that."

"There's no shame in bearing a warrior's wounds," So'lek points out.

"Warrior, huh." Teylan snorts, more bitter than So'lek's ever heard him.

"Yes, warrior," So'lek shoots back. "But if you wish, I can find you something else." Far be it from him to judge a Na'vi for wearing Dreamwalker garb, and there's probably something of Alma's (it's not like she's using it anymore) that will serve until Teylan heals.

But Teylan shakes his head, ears limp. "That's what the others said, but I can't--" He fiddles with the collar of his shirt, jaw tight. "I made them wash this instead, when I got back. It's not safe to wear anything else, not right now. He'd be...he'dmad. If he finds me, and I'm not wearing what he gave me."

Inhale. Exhale. So'lek chokes down the sudden, sharp urge to weep. "Teylan--"

"I know," Teylan growls, hunching over himself with a groan. "I fucking know, okay? Everyone says it, they all said he's never gonna touch me again, but they said it before and I don't--I can't--" He shakes his head, ears flapping like he's trying to ward off bugs. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm crazy, like I'm stupid." Teylan's hands tap frantically at the bed, tail lashing. "I'm not crazy--I'm not, I'm not, I'm, I'm, I'm..."

"I believe you," So'lek says firmly. "I don't think you're crazy, Teylan, but he will not touch you again, I swear it. And one day, you'll be able to believe me."

"You're..." Teylan lets out a long, slow breath, then another. So'lek breathes with him automatically, watching Teylan's chest rise and fall, rise and fall.

"You're probably right," Teylan admits, slowly uncurling. "But I can't--I can't. Not yet. Do you get that?"

"I think so," So'lek replies, honestly. He shifts slightly in place, then makes the offer before he can change his mind: "May I...hug you?"

Silence, so long that So'lek starts to think he's made a serious mistake. Then Teylan turns to look at him, frowning. "You mean it?"

"Of course." Teylan is well aware how sparing So'lek is with embraces, he has to know So'lek wouldn't say such a thing flippantly.

"O-okay, then." Teylan leans down slightly and So'lek reaches up, carefully wrapping his arms around Teylan's shoulders. It's an awkward hug, especially since he can't climb onto the bed with Teylan--something tells him that wouldn't be appreciated, not right now.

(Teylan smells odd, a blend of foreign and familiar, his heart thumping gently as it presses against So'lek's chest. His palm brushes down So'lek's back, stirring warmth in his belly, and he firmly pushes those sensations away). 

"You gotta let me go," Teylan murmurs suddenly, and So'lek obeys immediately.

"What's wrong?" he asks, worried he's made a mistake.

"It's nothing! I just, I need to make sure you would--it's fine." Teylan fumbles along the desk, grabbing, seemingly by accident, the songcord. He pulls it to his chest, over the RDA logo. "It's okay."

So'lek settles back, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to settle himself. "John Mercer," he announces decisively, "is a dead man walking. You and I will make sure of that."

Teylan rolls his eyes. "You always say the nicest things." But he's smiling as he says it, fingers brushing back and forth over the songcord like he's polishing a treasure.

[spectrechosts]

April Fools - Chapters 22-24

A plan takes shape, in a brief moment of respite. Can our trio survive the winter?

Full Series

DAY 22: TRICKS AND TALES

"I hope they aren't in too much trouble for not killing me." Says the Queen, pondering her now-missing assassin.

"I doubt they are, Highness." The Fool says, half paying attention as she juggles a set of five balls. "The guild is surprisingly touchy feely, all 'we're your new family, together in the dark, yada yada'. They only really get mad about outright betrayal."

Several moments pass before she notices that the Queen is now staring at her, very interested.

"It's not as interesting as whatever you're thinking up." She says, and the Queen pouts.

"How could it not be interesting? I didn't even know we had an assassin's guild, and you have details, and they're not interesting?"

The Fool catches four of the balls, fumbling the fifth.

"I knew someone in it once, that's all." She says, shrugging.

"Lovable fool, the normal amount of assassins one knows is zero." Says the Queen. "Do you know any?" She asks the Knight, who shakes her head.

"Can't say I do, Your Majesty."

The Queen looks back at her, expectantly.

"There is no story." The Fool insists. "She thought I might want in, I said no, no story."

"You were close enough with an assassin that she tried to initiate you into the guild?" Squeaks the Queen.

"Sure."

"How is there no story!?" She asks, flabbergasted. "Tell us about her!"

"I don't know!" The fool whines. "Creepy in a hot way? Sexy voice? Great tits for such a lithe little thing, not that big, but nicely shaped-"

"Truly, you have an incomparable eye for relevant details." Says the Knight, rolling her eyes.

"We had a thing for a while, the assassin bit had very little relevance for the majority of it, what do you want from me?" Says the Fool, crossing her arms. "She was hot and then she tried to recruit me into a death cult so that we could be ~family, bound in blood~ and I bailed."

"Wow…" The Queen says, awed. "Your life is so eventful!"

"Yeah, I'd certainly call breaking up with a girl who'd just told me she murders people for a living 'eventful'."

"Hang on that sounds like a story you said there was no story-"

~~~

DAY 23: SUBTERFUGE AND SACRIFICE

"Alright, so!" Says the Queen. "Somebody in my family wants me dead. Professional assassins are out of the picture. Anyone they trust enough to try and have them carry out the next attempt could likely be linked back to them. I think it's fairly certain they'd want to do it with their own hands."

"Tracks with what I know of pompous nobles, sure." Says the Fool.

"As long as we keep them all at a distance, you should be safe for a good while." Suggests the Knight, and the Queen purses her lips.

"Weeelllllllll-" She says. "That's not exactly what I had in mind. I was thinking we invite them all here-"

"No."

"-you know, have a little family get together, plenty of opportunity for someone to try and-"

"No!" Cries the Knight. "Highness I must object to this plan! Right now we have time! To do something so rash-"

"It's a decent plan, actually." The Fool says reluctantly, weaving her fingers together. "The assassin's guild won't avoid her forever, and I like her chances against some dickhead with an inflated ego who's never had to lift a finger for anything in their life better than a professional."

The Knight frowns. "Fine." She says. "We can arrange for a body double."

"Sounds good."

"No, wait!" Whines the Queen. "What if they get hurt? I can't allow that!" She says, and both her lovers give her an exasperated look.

"Highness, what if you get hurt?!" Asks the Knight. "What if you die?!"

"Oh, I probably won't." The Queen says peacefully, and the Knight throws her hands up in frustration.

"If you probably won't, then neither will the body double!" She says, her voice raising to just shy of a yell.

"But I'd feel so bad if she did-"

"I would feel bad if anything happened to YOU, Highness!" The Knight cries. "We both would!"

She sinks to the ground, breathing hard, and the Queen wraps her arms around her.

"It's okay." She whispers.

"It's not." Says the Knight. "I don't like this plan."

"Would you like it, if you could send a double to die in my place?"

"No." She whines, and the Queen gently rubs circles into her back as she begins to cry.

"I know, I know, my poor sweet knight." The Queen says. "It's so much, all the time. Won't it be easier, to just get it over with? To be done with the waiting, at least for this threat?"

"I could wait forever, Highness. I so dread the conclusion."

"My knight, the hard part is over. Do you think one of my idiot relatives can outsmart you?" She asks, and the Knight shrugs. "Have faith in yourself, please, for me. I know you will keep me safe." She says, and she peeks at the Fool who is very much avoiding being part of this conversation. "You both will. I am not giving up, I am baiting a snare."

The Knight takes a deep breath. "Right. Yes. Okay." She says, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry I doubted you, Highness."

"Oh, don't you start." Murmurs the Queen, and she gives her a kiss. "So? Shall we lay our trap?" She asks, and the Knight nods.

"Give me time to plan." She says, and looks to the Fool. "I'll need your help. I'm not typically in the business of planning plots on my lady's life."

"Nor I!" Says the Fool. "But I think I could figure it out."

~~~

DAY 24: WINTER HEARTH

The Queen knows that she should be worried.

Winter is never kind to her health, and she has sent out the invitations to bring a murderer into her castle. These are troubled times, she very well might not make it to the spring.

And she hasn't felt so content in such a long time.

Wrapped in a quilt by the fire, sipping spiced hot chocolate, held in the arms of her beloveds; who could want for anything more?

She can hear her knight gently snoring. How wonderful it is, to see her relax. She never relaxes! They could never hold eachother before, and now they can, and that makes it all worthwhile.

"You don't know how long I've wanted this." She murmurs to the Fool, still awake and watching the flames dance.

"To fall asleep on the sofa?" She asks. "You have very humble wants, for a Queen."

"To be held, silly."

The Fool stretches languidly, and nuzzles into her. "All the things I've said she does to you, and not even a brief cuddle afterwards? What a brute your knight is." She says, and the Queen exhales sharply through her nose.

"You're so crass, beloved fool!" She giggles. "Do you really think her the type to do even half of what you've accused her of?"

The Fool hums, looking the sleeping Knight over. "No, for all her blustering I don't think her bold enough." She says. "She still startles when you kiss her where someone might see."

"And yet you tease her so! Cruel, cruel fool." Says the Queen, shaking her head in mock disappointment.

"She'll live." Says the Fool. "Perhaps my teasing will embolden her, give her some ideas?"

"Oh, we can certainly hope."

[winterwandersland]

Paperwork

cw/tw: slight swearing, very very very brief flashback of an assault, implied sexual relations word count: 5.5k Kamara continues to decrypt the flashdrive but makes an unexpected discovery.

Chapter Three

“Mare, are you doing okay over there?” Sergeant Riker stood against the door frame of the closed off room that was being used as an office. The desk Kamara sat at had multiple scratches and dents that made it obvious that it was over a decade old. There were initials graved right next to the computer that she constantly ran her fingers over as she worked, keeping her mind focused on its ridges rather than the clicking of the clock that was counting down. The code was running fluidly, though it flowed in a form that was unusual to her.

“Yea. It would be a lot easier if I didn’t know somebody was looking over my shoulder every two seconds.”

“I’m not over your shoulder. I’m by the door. You got about two more minutes before this thing blows.” The two bickered like siblings, nobody knowing whether they loved or hated each other. They were constantly at each other’s throats, but they also protected each other, though there were many times when Riker’s protection wasn’t needed because there was almost always a figure lurking behind Kamara, scaring off anyone who came too close. This was not one of those times.

“That’s too bad because I’m already done.” She slowly turned toward Riker, her hand on her hip as a smirk crept on her face. “You cocky motherfucker.”

“I’m not cocky. Just great at my job. Bet you wish you were as good as me, don’t ya?”

“Nah. I think I’ll keep my sanity.”

“I have my sanity.”

“Sane people know when to cut their losses.”

“If I had cut my losses, this whole quad would have blown and we would have lost all of our progress.”

“Better than losing our lives.”

“Funny you say that given I’m pretty sure we’re still breathing, and the decryption is done. Here’s the drive by the way. Might want to get that to the Captain.” She walked toward him as she extended her hand with the flash drive to the Sergeant. It wasn’t that he hated Kamara. He actually adored her, but it sometimes seemed like he was the only one who worried about her, everyone else letting her run wild just because she was an excellent asset.

The building shook and a blare filled the room, causing Kamara and the sergeant’s ears to ring, unable to hear each other. The sergeant yelled something, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. Her vision blurred while she tried to scope out her surroundings, still trying to keep herself steady by holding onto Riker as he covered her. The cement ceilings covered the room in dust after another shock hit, bringing the soldiers back to their knees as they lost their balance.

“Bombs!” Kamara yelled and grabbed the sergeant that kneeled by her side, who kept his body over hers, protecting her from any debris that fell from above them. They went towards the entrance and made their way down the path that they first tracked down to find the abandoned building with a computer lab that held a flash drive with a code that could have detonated three bombs across the country. Keeping their heads ducked and staying low, they trekked through fallen debris, using only the flashes of glares that came through the cracks to find an exit and were met with blinding lights that kept them from seeing ahead of them.

“Put your hands up! Drop your weapons!” Kamara’s ears were still ringing, unable to hear much of the commotion that was going on around her. Despite the muffled voices, she was certain she could hear Riker yelling in the background. She felt a grip on her arm and immediately grabbed it, flinging the unknown man over her shoulder and onto the ground. Red filled the pavement below them as Kamara bashed his head with the barrel of her gun. The world was spinning, but she had learned a long time ago how to fight through the toughest of issues. The rest of her team came in blurs, looking to be inside the back of an armored vehicle, but she couldn’t tell who was who and the only person with a distinct uniform was her captain.

Another man approached her and encountered the same fate as his brains painted the pavement beneath them. She pointed her gun at the next armed man that came her way, and they returned the gesture. “Don’t shoot her!” the Captain yelled.

“She just killed two of my men. Why should she live?” The man’s voice was strongly accented, clearly a citizen of the country they were in. Five men surrounded Kamara, pointing their guns at her and yelling complete gibberish, which she identified as Russian once her hearing eased its way back to her. “Mare, put your weapon down!” Though the Captain and Kamara had their differences, she was still his teammate, and he didn’t want to see her killed just because of her prowess.

“Mare? Что это за позывной (What kind of callsign is that),” one soldier jested to his comrades.

“Интересно, почему они так ее называют (I wonder why they call her that),” another one said, each unaware that Kamara could understand them. “Хотите узнать (Want to find out)?” she scorned.

The man who seemed to be the leader of the group cocked his head at the blood-covered woman who continued to aim her firearm at each man, making circles as she practically spun to watch each of her blind spots.“She speaks Russian,” he said, then hitting the other man next to him on the arm with a smile. “I think Viktor is going to like her. Take her with the rest.” The men came towards her and she let off a shot, clipping one of them in the arm, but she was disarmed too fast for her to shoot again. The men were impressed with her fighting skills, but they quickly subdued her after injecting her with a syringe, bringing her down to her knees and everything around her went blurry until she saw the darkness behind her eyelids, watching her team fade to nothing.

Simon was silent, watching as the men carried her away and put her in the vehicle next to his with the other women of the team. “What are you doing with them?” he asked. He could’ve yelled at her not to fight just like the Captain did. It would have raised the probability of her listening, but once the captors established that there’s a relationship between two people, they will do everything to break them. “Women tend to be more feisty. Easier to keep men and women separated. Don’t worry. We won’t do anything to them.”

Click. Clack. Click. It was the only sound that filled the room as Kamara concentrated on the contents of the flash drive in front of her. Simon couldn’t do much but watch, knowing that speaking would throw her off of her rhythm that she had finally reached. Only three hours had passed, but it felt like it had been ten. The sun was setting, the natural daylight beginning to beam less through the pane of windows that faced the vehicle garage.

Now and then, Kamara would sneak a glance from the corner of her eye at Simon, who continued to watch her suffer through the memories that plagued her head. At times, he would sit next to her to tell her to take a break and when she refused, he’d roll her chair away from the computer and place himself in front of it. There was no point in fighting him, so Kamara gave herself the ten minute breaks that Simon advised she took. When she was up for it, she would lay her head in his lap, focusing on her breathing while Simon gracefully stroked the top of her arm, staying away from her forearm that she kept tucked between her legs.

During the times he wasn’t watching her, he would be on his phone, texting his comrades updates on the situation. “How far have you gotten?” he asked her.

“Not far enough.” How far she actually got through the crypt, she really didn’t know. Every time she felt like she was near the finish line, it seemed like it would run away from her and become out of reach again. “You got an estimate?”

“I’d give it fifteen minutes.” Vibrations floated through Simon’s body, elated that the brutal hours were finally coming to an end, but he needed more validation before he got his hopes too high, following a common phrase of war: never celebrate until you know the war is over.

“Fifteen minutes until you’re done?”

“No. Fifteen minutes until I blow my fucking brains out.” Goddamnit.

Simon knew it’d only be so long before she was cursing out the computer and then blaming herself for not being able to do the encryption. He was surprised she had even gone as long as she did without a complaint, only when he would force her to take a break which he told himself was why she hadn’t exploded yet.

“You need another break.”

“No, I don’t.” Vigorously, her leg bounced up and down as her eyes glued to the screen in front of her. Every code on the screen drew her in, keeping her focus on the decryption needed to crack them. There was no need to look at the keyboard, her muscle memory doing all the work for her. All she had to do was think of what to type and her fingers did the job, seldomly hitting a wrong key, but nothing she couldn’t fix.

“I wasn’t asking.” His shadow started creeping towards her and she rushed to get as much done before her man was pulling her away from the computer once again. Her heartbeat quickened as the shadow got closer to towering over her. “Okay. Okay,” she said as she put her hands up in a surrendering position. “I’ll take a break. Only five minutes this time. I think I’m almost done.”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“But I just said I’m almost-.”

“You said you ‘think’ you’re almost done. If you go back and you aren’t, you’ll be upset and then the process gets worse from there.”

“Fine.” She knew he was right. Simon knew Kamara like the back of his hand. It didn’t matter how many weeks or months he was away from her. He knew everything about her, from how she liked to dress depending on her mood to how many times she had to check the front door before she went to bed, though he had tried to break her of the habit. Anything from the type of forks and spoons she preferred to use to how she liked her sandwiches cut before she ate them. He studied her from the time he laid eyes on her and kept every detail in his head since.

Each chair in the lab had wheels, which Kamara enjoyed. For parts of her breaks, she’d spend her time spinning until her eyes could no longer focus. This time, she rolled herself in the chair to face Simon and propped her feet between his legs onto his chair. Simon didn’t look into it much and just allowed her to do as she pleased, as long as she wasn’t touching the computer. “How’s it going?”

“Terrible.” She used the heel of her foot to pull herself closer to Simon and hung her leg across his lap while keeping her other one bent. Uncertainty crossed Simon’s mind, unable to tell if he could make physical contact with her without making her uncomfortable. It wasn’t anything sexual that crossed his mind, but being able to touch her, even just placing a hand on her leg, would allow him to know that she was present and she wasn’t a figment of his imagination. But he also just wanted to keep her grounded, using his touch to let her know that he was there and not back to where he mind often wandered.

“Anything I can help you with?” If he couldn’t touch her, he had to resort to other options, ones that he knew let her know that he still loved her. Her heart beat faster the closer she got to Simon, but she kept the closure between them to use as exposure therapy for herself. Images of other men crossing her mind aren’t what she wanted to see when she was with her husband. She had her arms crossed and hung her head backwards on the chair, keeping her eyes closed and mentally counting her breaths as she spoke. “Not really. I am hungry, though. The mess hall open?”

“No. But if you want, I probably have something in the office.”

“That would be nice. Can I come?”

“No,” Simon dryly said as he tapped Kamara’s leg twice to signal her to move. A smile crept on her face as she planted her feet onto the floor and followed him to his office that was only a few hallways down from the computer lab. On the way, a group of soldiers chatted near the end of the hallway as they passed by. Kamara had only been to the office a few times, but the first time was all she needed to memorize where to go, so she moved in front of Simon, practically skipping to get some source of food, even if it would be a snack he stashed months before.

She reanalyzed all of her surroundings, noting every detail that had changed since she last visited the base. Chattering filled the adjacent halls, which stopped once Kamara passed. To the soldiers’ defense, Kamara was the first one to be seen coming down the intersecting hall. They wouldn’t have whistled at her if they knew the Lieutenant would be coming in right behind her. Though she ignored them and continued to stride her way towards the office, the lieutenant memorized their faces to note to torture them during their next drills.

Kamara stopped in front of the tall, brown door and pointed at it. “This one, ain’t it?”

They both knew it was the correct door, but sometimes Kamara needed the extra confirmation because she felt like her memory couldn’t be trusted, and Simon always granted her the reassurance that she needed, never pestering her for asking obvious questions.

The office was neat, almost nothing out of place except for the organized chaos of files that sat atop. “Want to bring those to the room so you can work on them?”

“Nah. It’ll get done.” Simon kneeled down to unlock the bottom drawer that was full of protein bars that he kept for late nights. “Choose your favorite.” Kamara’s upper lip curled and her eyes narrowed as her nose scrunched up. “Wow. Could you be any happier?” None of them were her favorite, but it was fun to mess with her. She didn’t even like protein bars.

“They all look like they taste like dirt.”

“They do, but you won’t be hungry anymore. Here,” he said as he pulled out a protein bar with a blue lining and held it out for Kamara to grab. She nuzzled Simon’s hand away and continued to look through the drawer with hopes to find something other than a protein bar. “No, you take it. You haven’t eaten either. I’ll just have a different one.”

“You take it. It tastes less like dirt.”

“It’s your favorite, no?” How did she know that? He had said nothing about it being his favorite and had only inquired about hers. Simon raised an eyebrow, his head tilting so slightly it wouldn’t have been noticeable if Kamara wasn’t paying close attention. “What makes you say that?”

“Because that’s the last one. You eat that flavor the most.” Being so observant was one of Kamara’s most noticeable qualities. Every room they walked in and every field they fought in, Kamara had already memorized every nook and cranny, every object out of place, and every blind spot. Unfortunately for Simon, Kamara’s observance also involved people, himself included, so anytime he wanted to be mysterious, like everyone perceived him to be, Kamara was always the one to figure out the mystery.

“What do you think Ghost is staring at?”

“Probably his next victim.” Kamara heard the soldiers chatting while she ate her sandwich, keeping her eye on the towering man that kept his gaze on a soldier who was roughhousing with his comrades. She moved from her seat and made her way towards Sergeant Riley with her sandwich in her hand. Chewing her food, she stepped in front of him, partially blocking his line of sight. She held the bitten half of her sandwich up to him. “Eat it.”

His eyes moved toward her, but he kept his head toward the other soldier. “Is she crazy? What is she doing?” The woman’s bravery appalled the private. Everyone knew they should not talk to Ghost unless he spoke to them. He was only a sergeant, but his presence still sent chills down many soldiers’ spines.

“Nah. I’m good,” he said as he nudged her arm out of the way. “You haven’t eaten.” She held the sandwich out again. Ghost kept his head turned towards the soldiers behind her. Kamara followed his gaze, identifying the soldier that had her boyfriend’s attention. “You still mad about that?”

Just a few hours earlier, one private had made the innocent mistake of flirting with Kamara, who kindly rejected him and continued about her day. But that isn’t what pissed Ghost off. Where the private went wrong is when he caught Kamara off guard and pinned her against the wall while she left the gym. Ghost saw the scene through the window of the room, but by the time he rushed in, the private was screaming on the ground with his arm forced behind his back, small cracks being heard as Kamara drew his arm back more while he wailed in pain.

“He touched you.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle. So eat. You’re not you when you’re hungry,” she humored, her bright smile spreading across her face while she held back her own laughter.

“You’re not funny,” Ghost said as he took the sandwich from Kamara’s hand. “I know. I’m hilarious.” He eyed the sandwich, noticing a chunk of it was missing.“You bit off of it.”

“And? You’ve had your mouth in worse places.”

He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Those places are pretty good to me.” He lifted his mask slightly to take a bite of the sandwich as he smirked. “Goodbye, Simon,” Kamara said with a shy smile as she walked away shaking her head, returning to the table she previously sat at. Moments later, the man everyone feared was sitting next to her, his gaze now on her.

“I have another box that I haven’t opened. You can have it.”

“Alright. Whatever you say,” she said as she grabbed the bar out of his hand and also grabbed another one with purple lining out of the drawer before closing it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” With a small grin crossing her face as she locked eyes with Simon, she said the three words she felt hadn’t been said in ages,“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

By the time they made their way back to the lab, the soldiers were already gone. They figured they scattered right after the lieutenant left their sight, too embarrassed to face him again.

“Who’s that?” Kamara asked as she spotted a woman coming from the hallway of the computer lab. It was the only room down that end of the hall, so she became more alarmed when she thought the woman had been near the drive. “That’s one of the cyops I told you about. She was the only one that got somewhere. Her name is Anya.”

“Hey there, L.T.” Anya had noticeable dirty blonde hair which Kamara noticed was close to Simon’s hair color. Her hair was cut into a bob and she was only a few inches taller than Kamara was. While she wasn’t a threat to Simon, Kamara kept her eyes on her, tracking each of her movements and memorizing every feature on her body. A bead of sweat dripped down Anya’s face, but that wasn’t uncommon for people in the building. The air conditioning had been broken for ages, causing discomfort to everyone in the building. Every attempt to fix it resulted in a few minutes of warm air, followed by a few bangs to signify the air conditioning had decided it no longer wanted to run.

“Hello. What are you doing this way?” Everyone respected Ghost. He was the Lieutenant, after all. And not just any lieutenant, but the Lieutenant of the 141. Everyone on the 141 was respected, but other operators and soldiers ensured to keep their respects at an all-time high around the members of the Task Force.

“I was actually looking for you. I wanted to ask if I could give the decryption another go.”

“Thank you for your time, but we found someone else to do the decryption.” Simon and Anya kept eye contact. He didn’t feel the need to hint that Kamara was the one doing the decryption, but it was evident Anya got the hint. His voice was steady and confident, like he knew that Kamara was the one. The only one that could handle the task that everyone seemed to have failed. Kamara kept her position like Simon’s shadow, staying close behind him and letting Anya know she was there. “Oh, alright. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of much help.”

“You did great.”

“Thank you, L.T,” she said, feeling Kamara’s glare pierce her skin, and then heading down the hallway. The pair entered the computer lab and took a seat. Kamara opened up the protein bar that she pulled from the drawer and began eating it. “The hell are you doing?” It was startling how quickly Simon’s tone changed, Kamara almost dropping her protein bar like she was a child who had gotten in trouble. She raised her eyebrows and covered her mouth filled with the bland tasting protein bar. “Um…eating?”

“That’s not the one I gave you.” Oh. He noticed. Simon was about just as observant as Kamara was, if not more. The only difference was that he couldn’t memorize every detail of his surroundings like she could, but he took note of every detail that seemed important and held onto it until the mission was complete and the information was no longer needed.

“I know. The blue one is for you.”

“I gave it to you.”

“But it was the last of that flavor and it’s your favorite, so you can have it.” As much as Kamara appreciated Simon’s selflessness, sometimes she felt like she was taking more than she was giving. She wasn’t sure how she could show Simon her appreciation other than reciprocating the gestures and supporting him in whatever he needed.

“I told you I had another box.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday. Eat the damn protein bar.” The rumbling of Simon’s stomach interrupted the silence. “Nah. I’m good.” Kamara’s eyes narrowed and she held her hands on her hips.“Suit yourself. I’ll keep it in my pocket for emergencies then.” She placed the bar in the pocket of her cargo pants, her favorite pair that she had gotten when she first enlisted.

Crumbs fell onto the chair with most of the protein bar, only about sixty percent of it being able to be eaten as a whole. From the looks of it, the computer was untouched, but Kamara still had a feeling something was wrong. She ignored the twisting feeling in her chest and continued to decrypt the code for another hour. “What the hell?” Her voice was higher than usual, unlike her typical naturally deeper and raspy voice

“What’s wrong?”

“No…no…no… Simon!” He rushed over to Kamara, who was beginning to panic, her eyes nearly popping out her skull. “What is it?”

“Look!” There was nothing there—at least nothing he could see—that looked out of the ordinary. “What am I looking at?”

“Read it!” She was panicking as she pointed to the screen filled with what looked like gibberish formed into some kind of symbol. He read over the foreign code, but could find nothing peculiar about it, let alone anything that should have made Kamara as scared as she seemed. “How did I not catch this before?” A tear trickled down her face as she stared at the screen.

“I need you to tell me what’s going on, Mar.” She silently outlined the code with her finger, forming an hourglass-like symbol. “I’m not understanding.” The symbol seemed vaguely familiar to Simon, but he couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was clear that Kamara knew exactly what it was. “Did you not read the fucking screen?”

“Aye. Calm it down,” he commanded. It was rare he had to be stern with Kamara outside of the field, but sometimes it was like she forgot he was her husband and not another soldier she could speak to in any way. She took a deep breath and apologized. “It’s in Russian. I can’t read it,” he explained. Her face soured, not even realizing that the code was in Russian because it came to her just like English. She looked back at the screen and started following each line of code and inquiring,“Do you know a Kate Laswell?:

“Yes. See’s the Chief Officer. CIA.”

“Soap and Gaz.”

“What are you on about?”

“Their names are in this code with what I’m guessing is their home addresses. Price is here, too,” she explained as she pointed to another name on the list. “Do you know who this is,” she asked as she said another name.

“Laswell’s wife.” Kamara read aloud more names, including Simon’s and her own, but she halted once she reached a name that made her stomach drop. “Si, where are the keys to the garage?”

“I have the keycard right here. What’s wrong?” He pulled out the keycard attached to his keys and held it up.“You got a motorcycle in there?”

“Loads of them. Kamara, talk to me, love.” She enforced Simon’s attention to the screen as she pointed out multiple names and read them aloud: Tommy Miller. Joel Miller. Sarah Miller. Ellie Williams.

“Fucking hell.”

“We have to get to them now!”

“We can go around back to get to the garage.”

“Nah, it’ll take too long.” She unplugged the printer that sat at the end of the row of computers and picked it up to put above her head. “What are you doing?” Immediately, the windows shattered, and the printer fell to the outside ground below them. Luckily, they were on the first floor, so no one was injured. “The garage is right there. Let’s go!” They rushed out the broken window and Simon equipped his keycard to enter the garage. He broke out the keys to a car, but Kamara went right past it.

“Where are you going? The car is right here.”

“Not fast enough. Where are the keys to this motorcycle?”

“Under the backseat cover.” The revving of the motorcycle filled the garage, but Simon stopped Kamara before she could take off, holding a helmet in his hand. “Take this. You can talk through the mic. I’ll be right behind you.” She put on the helmet and immediately sped off, almost leaving Simon completely in the dust as she went past Price, Soap, and Gaz. He mounted onto his own motorcycle, the one assigned to him when he was appointed the role of lieutenant. Before he could exit the garage, he was stopped. “What’s going on, L.T?”

“No time to explain. Hop in the car and follow the GPS.” Each of them followed instructions, though Soap grabbed a motorcycle instead of getting in the car with Price and Gaz. They sped towards Simon, who was doing his best to catch up to Kamara, but from the looks of his tracker, he’d have to up his speed if he wanted to catch up to her, so he did exactly that. “Ghost, tell your wife she’s on the wrong side of the road.”

“I’m sure she knows that.”

“She’s gonna get herself killed.”

“She’ll be fine.” Since he’d known her, Kamara had always done everything in a way that was more dangerous, but efficient, somehow always coming out on the other end alive. It scared him to death, but if he didn’t tell himself that she would be okay, he would panic, and there was no time for that.

Joel’s house was an hour away—an hour and a half with traffic. Kamara was almost maximizing the speed of the motorcycle, completely leaving everyone but Simon, who wasn’t far behind her, in the dust. Soap was starting to come close behind Simon, but kept his speed lower to give him room for any hard stops.

“Oncoming traffic. She’s gonna have to slow down. There’s no side streets,” Price said through the intercom. No one was sure if Kamara could hear, but she should have been able to. The adrenaline that pumped through her veins made it harder for her to focus on anything other than getting to Ellie. Her ears filled with the drumming noise of her heart. “Mar, you’re heading into traffic.”

“I see that.”

“This is a busy street. It's a semi alley.”

She kept quiet on the other line and spotted a vehicle on the side of the street that had a wooden ramp strong enough to hold the force of the bike. “What’s she doing?” Soap asked, watching Kamara’s motorcycle speed to the side.

“There’s too many semis.”

“I told you that. You gotta find another way, Mar.”

“I am.” She revved the motorcycle more and increased the speed, flying up the ramp of the vehicle. “What the hell?” Gaz said as he witnessed Kamara on the motorcycle flying through the air. He and Price leaned forward to watch as Kamara flew above the semi-trucks and lost sight of her once she was on the other end.

“I lost visual!”

“Kamara, are you still there?”

“She must’ve damaged the comms during the landing.” Soap and Simon got around the cars once Kamara was over, but Gaz and Price had to find another way to cut through. “Contacting Laswell,” Simon said.

“Her tracker is out,” Gaz informed Ghost through his coms. “Damnit, Kamara,” Simon said under his breath. Luckily for them, there was no body and only a few scraps from the motorcycle left on the other side of the road, so they had high hopes that she was still alive. “How much further, L.T?”

“Not far.” Laswell was on the other end of the line requesting immediate intel on the situation after hearing Simon’s requests..

“Where is she now?”

“On her way to the house.”

“Okay, but she can’t go alone. She isn’t authorized.”

“She’s too far ahead.”

“She’s not armed, is she?”

“No.”

“Good, so she can’t do too much damage. As long as she controls her temper and is patient enough upon arrival, everything will be fine.”

“She’s been working on her temper at home.”

“That’s good, so she shouldn’t cause any problems then. I’ll meet you all there and follow through with your request.”

It felt like forever until everyone reached Joel’s house. Smoke filled the air and ash fell from the sky, turning the black motorcycle gray. “Holy shit,” Soap said as they approached the scene. Crowds filled the area as the firefighters attempted to put out the fire. They were struggling to do their job as they held a wailing woman back from entering the burning house.

Simon rushed over and grabbed the woman that was practically fighting the firefighters. “Kamara! I need you to calm down!” Her mourns broke his heart, her sobs uncontrollable at the thought of losing her daughter. He dragged his wife to the side of the road where no one was watching, no one important, at least. She tried to break herself from his hold and run to the house, but Simon was too strong. Soap, Gaz, and Price issued everyone back to their homes, clearing the scene for any incoming backup Laswell may bring.

“Mar, listen to me.” Every noise and voice around Kamara was muffled. The only thing she could hear were her own screams that strained her throat. Her chest tightened like she could feel her lungs being crushed by a bed of rocks and her heart being squeezed too tight.

“She’s dead,” she sobbed into Simon’s arms. He held her as tight as he could, trying to keep her wails muffled between the two of them. “She’s dead! I was too late! She’s gone!” Her tears stained his shirt, his own almost breaching his eyes as the weight of Kamara and her pain nearly suffocated him.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Two Point Five

[love-and-hisses]

This was originally written (and posted in the blog) in 2009. It's a perennial favorite.

Finished your Christmas shopping yet? Are you STUMPED trying to come up with the perfect gift for one of those hard to buy for relatives or friends? Do you kinda wanna punch them in the nose when they shrug and say “Oh, just get me any ol’ thing!”?

LOOK NO FURTHER.

In these cold and gray days of winter, all anyone wants to do is bundle up in front of the fire and not move ’til Spring, am I right?

But unfortunately, there are things like “jobs” that are even more unfortunately not located near fires where you can bundle up and keep warm.

What is a cold person to do? What oh what?

I HAVE THE SOLUTION FOR YOU!

The ACME Portable FURnace is here to save the day! You just take this super-warm little ball of fluff, put it on your shoulder, and although it has a head that is stuffed with marshmallow fluff, it SENSES where the warmth is needed the most, and it will settle there!

NO difficult and messy settings, no annoying electric cords! You put the ACME Portable FURnace on, and forget it’s there!

You can place it on your shoulder for easy kissing access, or you can place it on the back of your neck for maximum warmth! A little rub between the FURnace’s shoulder blades turns on the vibrating massage function!

You’re taking phone calls! You’re filling out reports! You’re even attending meetings! AND NO ONE KNOWS IT’S THERE, KEEPING YOU WARM! If you weren’t so toasty and warm, you’d hardly know it was there yourself! It runs so smoothly it purrs!

SET IT AND FORGET IT!

The ACME Portable FURnace recharges itself AS YOU USE IT! Give it a bowl of food and some water, empty it occasionally in the nearest litter box, let it stretch its legs while YOU sleep, and it’s ready to go again the next morning!

OPERATORS ARE STANDING BY!

Call 1-800-FLUF-HED and place your order today! Act now, and for a short time only, you can get TWO FOR THE PRICE OF ONE! One can keep you warm while the other one is off whining about how hungry it is despite the fact that it JUST ATE!

Don’t delay! Order now for Christmas delivery!

Disclaimer: ACME Portable FURnaces are guaranteed to be as adorable as the one pictured above, but may not be as well-behaved; some FURnaces occasionally emit fountains of vomit down your back with no warning and for no particular reason; FURnaces are sometimes known to walk through their own feces and track it all over the place, leading one to sniff and say “Does it smell like butt in here to you?; FURnaces need to have their claws trimmed regularly or may shred your clothing in an attempt to keep their claws sharp; wearing loose clothing is unadvised, as the FURnace may take it as an invitation to go exploring and then pop its head out the front of your shirt to see what’s going on; FURnaces may regard hair as an attractive snack; FURnaces sometimes sneeze and get snot all over the nearest surface (which could be the back of your head); FURnaces will sometimes develop the habit of sitting an inch from your face in the middle of the night and howling “MAO? MAO? MAO?” until your brains leak out your ears; FURnaces are self-cleaning and may interrupt important meetings making smacking noises as they loudly clean their nether regions; though self-cleaning, FURnaces might need the occasional bath (see above regarding walking through their own feces) – use gentle shampoo and the warmest and fluffiest of towels when bathing the FURnace; do not shake the FURnace; do not let the FURnace get cold; speak kindly and gently to the FURnace; do not yell or scream at, shake, fold, spindle or mutilate the FURnace.

[writingattemptsxx]

you should write some fluff of one of your favs x reader

Satan x MC

Just Needing Comfort.

Satan and MC in the human realm come across a Karen who says he and Lucifer are the same.

—

I just had a cute idea with Satan and wanted to write because Satan is amazing.

I probably should have posted this near Halloween, but I thought it was cute, also not really “x reader”, more “x MC”.

Also also, they/them is used for MC.

—

He was trying. Oh, he was trying so hard to keep his anger under control, but this human seemed to be intentionally trying to piss him off. Satan just wanted a nice trip to the human realm with MC, and it was nice for a while.

He and MC were just shopping around in late October. The fall weather was wonderful and humans were getting ready for a holiday, Halloween. The decor was nice. It ranged from cutesy to actually scary, but usually somewhere in between. There were even a lot of songs playing to keep the mood.

When they turned a corner they noticed a lady on the other side of the street. She was yelling at someone while gesturing at a bunch of decorations. With how loud the music was, they only heard here once they got closer, and oh does Satan wish he didn't.

She was yelling about how all of the decorations were “satanic” and “supporting Satan”. Satan couldn't help but chuckle to himself. A holiday all about him would be nice. It wasn't until later in her rant she started mixing his name and Lucifer. How dare she! Lucifer and him are completely different! How could she not know?!

He stopped in his tracks. If he tried to move a muscle, he would stomp over and smack that lady. MC was trying to push him further and away from that lady, but no human of any strength could move a demon locked in place. He was the Avatar of Wrath, and this lady was ranting on about an exact trigger for his anger.

In her rant, she pulled out a cross and shoved it into the face of the poor person she was shouting at. She then shouted something else. Putting the last nail in the coffin of Satan’s rage. “God! Please help this man! He has been taken by evil! The evil of many names, The Devil, Satan, Lucifer, and many others! I pray you save this man and exorcise the evil!” This lady absolutely does think he and Lucifer are one and the same! Satan might as well strike this woman, after all, Lucifer is super-powerful, so if he is Lucifer, why not this lady see that power? Did it make much sense, no, but Satan wasn't in his right mind.

He was about to stomp over to her when he felt something cling to his waist. Two arms wrapped around him.

“Satan, let's go back to our hotel room for now. We can go from there.” Usually, MC had a different name for him while in the human world. No human would want to hear or see another respond to ‘Satan’. For them to use his actual name is like pleading to him. A plea to go to the hotel and just be with them.

It took him what felt like hours of fighting with himself, but MC gave him a small squeeze to bring him back to reality. Another plea. He snatched their hand and stomped all the way back to their hotel. He fell onto the bed pulling MC with him and into a cuddle. He was still seething but as they started rubbing his back and cuddling closer, it started to chip away.

“Which demon is the one who has a room covered floor-to-ceiling with books? Not anyone but you. Which demon has stunning blonde hair and beautiful green eyes? Not anyone but you. Which demon can't resist a puzzle or any new information to learn? Not anyone but you.”

Satan couldn't respond. His anger was still clawing at him, but their words made him feel as if he was going to cry. All he could do was cuddle closer.

“You aren't Lucifer. Everyone will have similarities to someone else. Mammon and Asmo can't resist parties. Levi and Belphie will always prefer quiet places to be alone. I can't say you two have nothing similar, I can't lie to you, but just as Mammon and Asmo are different, and just as Levi and Belphie are different, you and Luci are different.”

These words were it. His tears fell and fell. He clung to MC, and they cuddled him back. Giving him kisses and the love he so desperately needed right now.

“You don't need to distance yourself from Lucifer to be your own demon. I will love you for you.”

[alienaiver]

Birthday keychains

Sugawara Koushi x gn!reader

made for @cup-of-fluff​ ‘s birthday!

warnings: there’s mentions of a birthday being held alone but otherwise super fluff for my fluff-queen! wordcount: 1.7k content: fluff, post-timeskip, sfw, birthday present to a friend!, gender neutral reader, canon compliant, reader is also a teacher but the subjects are undefined, confessions, unbeta’d, no use of y/n, comfort, sugawara thinks hes smooth in theory but suddenly halts when he needs to put it into practice,

notes: i am LATE! LATE LATE LATE like the rabbit in alice! it was my precious friend, luna’s birthday around 10 days ago but sadly my brain wasn’t working those days, so i hope youll still accept this even if im late!!!! ilsym, i hope you still had a good day even if the plans weren’t big <3 i was thinking of you the entire day!!!

Sugawara stretches his arms over his head and yawns, grateful that he was able to end his class a little early. Mondays can be rough for anyone and he can definitely feel the jitters from his students rub off on him during the last stretch of the afternoon, too. So when the opportunity rose, he took it.

He likes to treat them sometimes, too.

So now he’s on his way back to the teacher’s lounge to grab a cup of coffee and work through the final part of this year’s curriculum – there’s some gaps he has to fill in from another teacher retiring, making him impromptu take over some classes. Usually, he’s more prepared than this.

 He nears class 2-A that he knows you’re currently teaching and as he passes, he hears ruckus and scattered cheering before the sliding door flings open.

On her way out, a student named Sakura looks back into the classroom and yells out, “oh, and Happy Birthday again!” before she runs out into the hallway, followed by her classmates.

Birthday? Who?

“Thank you, Sakura!” he hears your voice yell out from the room and he can’t stop himself from popping his head into the doorframe to make sure he heard right. You’re by the teacher’s desk, gathering up papers, small talking with the students still fizzling it out in waves.

“My, my, is it my favorite teacher’s birthday?” Sugawara leans against the frame and try to send you what he hopes is a charming smile and the way you perk up gives him hope.

You laugh at him sheepishly as you put the stack of papers against your chest, seemingly trying to gather yourself, your cheeks burning. You don’t look him in the eyes as you near him. He thinks you’re adorable.

“…Yeah,” you admit, passing him into the hallway but you stop to signal that you want him to follow you. His lips feel wobbly as he happily pushes himself off of the doorframe to follow you down the hall.

There are many things that he loves about being a teacher but he has to admit that one of his favorite parts is the interactions he gets to have with you. Your smile brightens any day, no matter how grey and the habit that the two of you have worked out with the morning coffee in the teacher’s lounge is the best part of his day.

“So… Why was I not aware that today’s your birthday?” he asks as he matches your pace, keeping an eye to dodge the unruly students running around the hallways. He’s supposed to scold them for running, the back of his mind reminds him, but he’s too focused on you. It’s an interesting thing, to keep a birthday hidden. Says a lot about a person.

You seem to straighten your back, “oh!”

You then sigh and relax again, “I’m not sure. Just didn’t think it was that important to mention.”

Sugawara inwardly winces – he’s afraid he hasn’t been clear enough about his intentions of getting closer to you. Whether or not you’d ever return his feelings romantically (he might be going too far with his wistful thinking he reprimands himself), he’s still very much interested in a friendship. Maybe he hasn’t been clear enough?

“What!” he exclaims, surprise so evident on his face that you stop in your tracks, your eyes locked to his expression. He then says your name with fervor and subconsciously reaches out for your hands but stops himself in the last second.

“I would’ve gotten you a present!” he confesses, pouting before he turns his back and starts walking. He hopes you follow. It’s been a while since he’s used flirting tactics that he used to teach Sawamura. He feels silly and he wipes the palms of his hands on his pantleg, hoping you don’t take notice.

“No, you really shouldn’t!” your voice sounds strained as you follow him. He slides open the door to the teacher’s lounge and signals for you to enter first. When you’re in, he hurries ahead of you to grab you a cup of coffee, bowing slightly as he hands it to you. You chuckle at his antics, shaking your head in affectionate confusion, “what is this, Sugawara?”

He smiles warmly at you, “you deserve royal treatment on a day as today!”

 You sit down by your desks next to each other and Sugawara sorts through a bunch of papers to look important. He clears his throat and tries to sound as nonchalant as possible, “so, are there any exciting birthday plans today?”

You hum out a reply that he can’t discern, not looking up from your papers either. He leans his head on his palm and looks towards you, “I bet you’ll be treated to tons of fun, right?”

You stop what you’re doing and sigh, collecting yourself before you confess, “actually… nothing special’s going to happen this year. I’ll probably treat myself to my favorite dish at the Family Mart and watch my favorite show at home, feet on the coffee table.”

You wince at the way Sugawara’s hand falls to his desk in surprise. You knew he’d react like this, he’s a good guy. But bringing up your birthday felt intimate and you weren’t sure how close you were. Maybe he’d think you were attention seeking or fishing for presents if you mentioned it – what if he only saw you as a work acquaintance?

He inhales sharply before he turns his head back down to his desk again, continuing his mock-work. “What’s your favorite at Family Mart then?”

You pause at the question. That was unexpected. You tell him with an unsure voice, ending it in a question mark. He hums and smiles at you, “I’ve never tried that one. Can I join?”

“Eh?”

It’s all you get out before he laughs warmly at you, the bright smile blinding you as he once again leans on his palm (which really is a charming position for him), “it sounds like the perfect start of the week!”

You nod, processing what he just asked. Before you can come up with a yes or no, you mentally walk through the state of your apartment. Is it messy? Have you left anything out in the open?

You’re safe, you conclude. So you nod again, “I mean… if you don’t have anything else to do?”

He laughs again, “nothing as important as this!”

  You reach the Family Mart with your palms sweating, the distance between your hands so close that your heart is currently stuck in your throat. He’s so close. It’s close enough so that if you just swung your hand slightly, you’d touch him.

And then you could hold onto it.

You shake your head at the thought to collect yourself. After picking up the drinks you want and the meals, you go to the counter.

“Would you like me to heat it up?” the cashier asks and you politely decline, looking for your wallet.

“Would you like a bag?”

You nod and she starts collecting your items in the bag for you. You announce you want to pay with card but Sugawara puts a final item on the counter and announces, “I’m paying with cash for it all.”

It’s a keychain. It’s not fancy or big. It’s a little black crow in chibi-style. You’re frozen in confusion staring at the small item, following it as the cashier puts it in the bag as well.

You’re not back in your own body before Sugawara gently pushes you by your back to signal you to move, and he guides you out the store, bag in hand.

When you get out you stop in your tracks, “ah! Did you get the receipt? I’ll pay half!”

Sugawara shakes his head with a smile as he goes through the content of the bag, exclaiming a small sound of victory when he finds what he needs. He pulls out the keychain and hands it to you, his cheeks burning red.

“I swear I would’ve gotten you something way better if I’d been prepared. I’ll even make it up to you with a delayed present at another time! but I thought you might… like this… one as a small substitute.”

He laughs awkwardly when you neither reply nor move. Did he mess up? “You don’t have to… accept it, if you don’t like it…”

That makes your brain restart as you inhale, “please! Don’t think I don’t like it! I’m just…” you struggle to search for words but decide to just hold out your palms, “I really, really love it… and that’s two really’s!” he seems to visibly relax as he puts the small item in your palm, flinching at the contact with your hand – he wants to grab onto it so badly, “I think I’m just… overwhelmed, I must admit.”

Sugawara sighs deeply, “phew, I’m so glad I didn’t weird you out!” he admits and you hurry to shake your head, “no! No… you could never! I just wasn’t sure of… how the closeness of our relationship.”

Sugawara’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly. He’s not sure if he should tell you now – it feels like the perfect time but what if he’s reading it wrong? He straightens his back and steels his resolve.

Without thinking, he bows. He grimaces as he looks at the ground – that move wasn’t part of his confession plans he’s made up in his head the past few months.

“I actually really, really like you! With two really’s!”

He’s afraid to straighten his back and look you in the eye. There are so many emotions going through him right now, fear being the most prevalent one.

 You clench the keychain in your hands, the meaning of it soaring through the sky even higher than when he first gave it to you. You smile as you say his name with a wobbly tilt to your tone, “I like you, too.”

Sugawara wants to pump his arms into the air in victory but he settles on just looking up at you with stars shining in his eyes, “really!? That’s amazing!” he leans forward to hug you and you yelp out in surprise. You don’t hold back from taking in his scent though – it fits the one you’ve been imagining for so long.

“Happy birthday, again.” He whispers into your head and you laugh into his chest, “this might be the best one yet.”

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

OC in 15: Kira Sato

rules: share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

thx for the tag!!! @topaz-carbuncle

YOOO THE WAY I GOT SO EXCITED TO DUST OFF MY OC

anyway, i screwed around with the raildex universe and created an oc based off that. unfortunately none of this is published because i basically rewrote the entire thing to the point that it's like in a place where it's not original fiction but also not *quite* fanfiction anymore

1) “How does it feel, hmm? To have someone wrap their fist around your heart? Don’t be prepared to dish out pain unless you’re willing to receive it.” Upon seeing his lack of a response, she slightly tilted her head. “I wasn’t able to do Blood Flow before. You and your ‘sensei’ knew that better than anyone, but ever since you attacked me, I’ve only been able to control one medium at a time. Man, I was pissed, but it turns out I have more control if I’m only controlling one. I was never able to do this before, but now thanks to you, I can. Do you understand what’s about to come next?” 

2) “I’m killing again for the sake of this power.” Now that they were dead, the grief returned. She leaned back against a wall, sliding down, her head buried in her hands. “The only way to repay them is to perfect my power. I need to get stronger so I can protect them. Yes, that’s the only way to make sure they didn’t die in vain.”

3) “Oh? So you were wanting to kill me. I should kill you a million times for that, you know!” she yelled out as she squeezed down on her neck. “My abilities let me heal, you fucking idiot. If you’re gonna try to kill me, you gotta make sure you finish the job.”

4) “I really did expect just a little bit more of a challenge from you. The times that I’ve fought next to you were quite amazing. Really, they were. It’s amazing how befuddled people get when they realize that your right hand can cancel out abilities. The only thing with me is that I know how to counter that right hand of yours. After you take that out of the equation, what else do you have left? What else can you do?” Kira gave him a gentle smile. “You made a good effort. You made a really good effort. So it’s about time you had a rest!”

5) “I’m not the type of person that saves people.”

6) “I’m not a good person,” she whispered. “I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve you, I-”

7) “We’ve played this song and dance before and to be honest, your track record isn’t working in your favor. The only way you’re getting out of this is to tell me where she is and maybe, just maybe, I’ll kill you quickly.” 

8) “If I have to forget who I am to save her, I will,” Kira said with an empty look in her eyes.

9) "...monster I was always meant to be. That's right. Kihara Kenkyuu had always said that something was special about me. Takaki Yoshi said that my abilities were different. Maybe I really am a monster."

10) "Do you want to live or die? It’s your choice. That damned Kihara Seigo might have made it so that I can’t control who the hell I kill when I touch them, but that’s a different case with you, isn’t it?” Kira currently held up one of the Hound Dog lackeys that was unfortunate enough to have gotten separated from the rest.

11) “Do you ever shut up?” spat out Kira to silence the man. She grabbed the piece of steel stabbing into the man. “What a pain in the ass. Just asking me to kill you is too vague. I’ll move this thing around to tear your insides to pieces if you keep going down this route.”

12) “Do you really think there is any path left that will save you? After living in this world, trampling on so many people, and making enemies of me and that bastard Kihara Seigo, do you really think you can still live a happy life? That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re utter trash. How many people have you killed?” 

13) “Oh? Then you need a hospital,” continued the Level 5 with a grin. “Of course, I could heal you, but-” Kira shrugged and then looked towards him with scorn. “You idiots took that control away from me. So it looks like there’s no salvation for you here, but you won’t die. Not this easily. I’ll make sure your suffering lasts. Keep living on that hopeless path of life so I can relieve some stress.”

14) “Sorry about that,” Kira said with an uninterested look on her face. “I swore to a certain someone that I wouldn’t be participating in this shit anymore, but it looks like I fucked up.” A laugh leaked out. “You see, if I had my abilities, I probably could have ‘adjusted’ the trajectory of the shell so that it would’ve landed in your leg and removed your ability to walk temporarily or something like that. But oh wait,” Kira looked at the woman with a mocking expression. “You fucks took that away. Karma really is a bitch, you know.”

15) “Sorry,” apologized Kira while cutting her off. “I may be trying to walk on the path of good now, but you lot really pissed me off. I just can’t rest peacefully without finishing the job.”

tagging writer moots :3 (sorry if you don't have oc's or reader lines to use ksjdflskdjf): @chaotic-on-main @leviismybby @lucysarah-c @jayteacups @the-traveling-poet @sixpennydame @flametrashira @kingkonoha @wyvernslovecake @peachdues @postwarlevi + anyone else that wants to show off their oc's!

[azurdlywisterious]

The Brainless Ones (part 4)

Okay so it's been a few months, but hopefully this has been worth the wait! This time we're going from Beagle's perspective! Hopefully it won't take me another five months to write part 5 haha.

Word count: 2.5k

CW: body horror played for comedy (idk how else to describe sir’s empty head), very unethical scientific practices, mentat laced water, technically attempted suicide? viewer discretion is advised

“Okay,” Sir begins to summarize. “It looks like you got ‘commuter’ confused with ‘communist.’ A reasonable mistake, really, if you’ve never had anyone correct you.”

I don’t know what she wants me to say in response to all this. Her voice is fascinating to listen to, though. It’s choppy and mechanical, about as deep as mine yet strangely melodic.

I take a swing of whiskey from my flask and ask her, “You’re, like, some sort of powerful supercomputer, right?”

“That’s one way to put it,” she answers honestly.

“Does it bother you that I don’t know everything like you?”

“Why would it?” She tilts her bald head to the side. “Having a wide variety of perspectives and backgrounds and skills from a large variety of different people is the best way to keep statistical outliers from gaining a false prominence.”

I blink a couple of times, overwhelmed by her verbose vocabulary.

She continues, “Does that make sense?”

“I think?” I admit sheepishly.

“Think about it this way,” Sir adds on, “I know about communism and can explain that to you, covering that blind spot in your lobotomite data bank. You know how to make those smoke rings, covering a blind spot in my human one.”

“Those don’t seem very equivalent, Sir.”

She smiles brightly. “I disagree. All knowledge is valuable. To me at least. You might not think that knowing how to make those smoke rings is very valuable, but it says a lot about the people around you. It helps paint a more vivid picture of the environment where you grew up.” 

I feel my throat get tight, but do my best not to show it. I shove my hands deep into my pants pockets. 

“Yeah,” I reply, focusing solely on keeping my voice sounding smooth and steady, “something like that…”

“Also, we will be arriving at the NCRCF very soon,” she informs me. “What is the plan to, and I quote, ‘clear it out?’”

“You’re good at killing things, and there’s a lot of people there that need to go. Easy as that.”

Upon hearing that answer, Sir stops dead in her tracks. The constant hum of her fans cease for a few seconds before picking up at full speed. “‘Good at killing things?’”

Fuck. 

I try and salvage the conversation, starting, “Look, uh, what I meant-”

Her eyes constrict, staring daggers into me with her pinpoint sized pupils. “I was created by the Think Tank in order to explore and gather research on the outside world. I am not your killing machine.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what did you mean? How else could you manipulate this data?”

“Oh, manipulate?” I stare at her incredulously. “Is that what you think of me?”

“Better than being told you’re no more useful than a lobotomite.”

I can feel my blood start to boil. “Oh, of course! Why didn’t my stupid lobotomite brain think of that!”

“Lobotomites kill for no discernable reason. You are proving my point.”

“Those guys killed my sister and brother-in-law!” I yell louder than I should in this desert where everyone wants me dead. I grip the inner linings of my pockets, hoping that she won’t see me tremble. All my mental fortitude gets devoted to keep the cracks in my being from showing. 

And all she asks in return is, “Are all lobotomites this brutish and myopic?”

I grimace, running my tongue over my teeth as I try to find the right words.

She sighs, as if somehow knowing thatI wouldn’t have an answer to her question. 

I end up spitting out, “Let’s just keep going.”

As we walk, she keeps peppering me with questions about my family and the people at the NCRCF, but I just ignore her. If I answer any of her questions, I’ll start bawling like a baby. 

I can feel my eyes stinging. All I can do is hope that it’s just sand. 

She eventually stops asking me questions, instead choosing to chat with those disembodied voices that chime in occasionally. Just as well. I don’t feel like talking.

Once Sir has visual on the place, she stops the chattering and crouches down. I follow suit, holding my pistol out in front of me. 

I look over at Sir, distracted by some movement in her direction. I watch her as she points her fingers and thumbs in various directions. 

“What?” I whisper. 

She sighs and asks, “Are they hostile?”

“I have no reason to believe they wouldn’t be.”

She starts moving her hands in various patterns some more before giving up. “Just… wait here. I’ll handle it.”

“I can’t just let a lady go in all by herself.”

“If you think I’m so good at killing, then you should be fine with me walking in alone,” she says, steadying my shaking hand with hers. Her skin is cold and kinda tingly. I can feel my hair stand on end a little bit. 

I pull out my tape recorder to take notes as she works. 

“Sir is stealthily making her way towards the front gate,” I start. “There are a few Powder Gangers on the towers above, but they don’t see her. She walks up to the front gate without cover. I fear that this might be the end for Sir. She’s talking to one of those Powder Gangers stationed at the entrance. I can’t make out what she’s saying, however her posture has changed. I see her hold her hands out to them palms first.”

I stop narrating as a loud buzz emanates from her hands. I’m far enough away that it doesn’t bother me, but the guards at the front collapse. By Jove, I think their ears are bleeding. 

I continue, “Sir managed to neutralize the guards with some device I can’t see. It emitted a loud noise that caused the men to collapse. I think their ears are bleeding. I’m going to move in closer to see how things are going.”

As I slowly crawl my way towards the gate, I can hear Sir tearing it up on the inside. Gunshots ring out, but are quickly silenced by the loud buzz of whatever Sir’s weapon is. I take another swig of whisky before crossing the gate’s threshold. 

I see her standing in the middle of a pile of dead bodies, all of which have blood spilling from their ears. She looks rattled. As I get closer, I can hear the sound of her fans overclocking. Her skin glistens from sweat as she pants. She moves like she’s in slow motion, or drunk.

Sir turns around sluggishly and slurs out, “Beagle?”

She tries to stumble forward, but ends up collapsing. I dash forward and catch her just in time. She’s much heavier than she looks. Must be all those computer parts. 

Her skin is feverishly hot, so hot that it almost burns mine on contact. I have to get her somewhere out of the sun that’s safe. Good thing I see a building right in front of me. 

I sling her over my shoulder, not even taking the time to ask what’s wrong. Lord knows we don’t have time for that. 

Upon entering, I see that I had chosen wrong and that we aren’t alone. Four Powder Gangers aim guns at us while one runs upstairs. 

I hold my free hand up, trying so hard not to jitter and shake. 

My hands start to tremble a little as I allot focus to keeping my voice level enough to ask, “Truce? Please?”

“That’s the bastard that killed all our men!” The one closest to us answers, gun still trained on me. 

“Sir?”

“What?” He snaps. “You think that being a kiss ass will keep me from pumping both of you full of lead?”

“Please, I-”

From the doorway, a voice booms, “Marky, stand down.”

He nods as a tall man with a hardened exterior makes his presence known. His straight brown hair is slicked back. There’s an evil glint in his eye. He paces over to me, a sadistic smile dancing across his lips. I try to back away on quivering legs, but I don’t get far. 

“Silver hair,” he says as he plucks the worthless badge from my chest, “and a deputy. I think I’ve heard of you.”

“I think you might have the wrong person, uh… officer?”

He chuckles darkly in response. “Officer Eddie, I like that. Maybe I’ll let you live, George Beagle.”

I can feel my stomach drop when he says my name. Sir tries to move, but I can tell that whatever’s wrong with her hasn’t been fixed. She’s tragically dead weight on my shoulder right now. 

He continues, “Scooter over there told me all about your kidnapping and ransom. I’d try and make a deal with you; but, from what he told me, I doubt that you could even pull a trigger on yourself. I mean, you certainly couldn’t as that lovely couple got murdered one room away.”

I feel my heart burn as hot as Sir’s skin still is. “What? Want me to prove it?”

He snort laughs at the idea. “Sure, why not? If the little pissy crybaby can kill himself like a man, then I’ll let him live.”

As Eddie continues to laugh, I hear Sir wheeze, “Beagle… this is a bad idea.”

Focus, Beagle, focus. Eddie offers me his pistol. Hands shaking, I take it. 

I press the gun to my temple. By Jove, what am I doing?! Sir is right, this is a terrible idea. 

Unless I can pull this off. 

As fast as I possibly can, I change the aim of the gun to have it point at Eddie. I land a few shots before he goes down. 

Hellfire rains down as the other guys realize their leader is dead. 

Without thinking I run back outside, doing my best to shield Sir from the gunfire. A few bullets nick me, but nothing fatal. 

I high tail it out of there as fast as I can. My lungs and legs are on fire, but I’m not going to leave Sir behind. 

I hear her camera eyes click occasionally as I run. Eventually, I find some demoed buildings far away from the facility to hunker down inside. 

I do my best to fan Sir with my hands. Anything to cool her down. I notice that her camera eyes are shut, but I can still hear her wheezing over my own. 

Once I see her sit up and open her eyes, I collapse from exhaustion. Maybe a bit of blood loss. I don’t know. My head feels kinda fuzzy. 

“Wow,” I hear her say. “You’re lucky you’re still alive.”

“What?”

“There’s at least three near misses that would have been fatal had they actually hit their mark.”

“Don’t tell me where,” I tell her as I reach for my flask. 

“Strange, but alright.” She snaps a few pictures with her camera eyes before asking, “Do you have any disinfectant on you?”

“Disinfectant?”

“Yes, like alcohol, heat, or radiation.”

I sigh deeply and hand her the flask. 

“Alcohol, Beagle,” she clarifies, “not water.”

“Whisky’s alcohol, right?”

She opens the flask and waves her hand between the opening and her nose.

Finally, she comments, “That would explain your poor hydration levels.” 

“I’m doin’ fine, Sir,” I reassure her as she opens up her head to get me a bottle of water. It’s weird that I’m getting used to that. 

“You really should be staying hydrated out in this desert heat.”

“I could say the same to you,” I retort as I accept her bottle. 

“What happened earlier was because I had to overclock my systems. It was either that or die.”

I take a sip of water as she talks. It tastes kinda funny, sweet but chemically; but I don’t question it. 

After a few sips, something clicks inside my head. 

“I never told you why we were heading to the NCRCF before our argument.”

“Oh.” She grimaces at the memory. “Yes. Our argument.”

“Sir, I’m sorry for what I said to you. I don’t how I could make it up to you aside from promises, but I know you like information. I can give you that in recompense.”

“Information on what?” She asks me, her expression softening.

“Anything you want, really. I could tell you about why it was hard for me to tell why I wanted to clear the NCRCF as badly as I did.”

She smiles slightly, the keyhole scars under her eyes morphing a bit. “I would like that.”

I sit up next to her, propping myself up against a wall and pull out my tape recorder. I scrub through until I find my recordings from that night. 

I pass Sir the device as it plays so that I can take another swig of whiskey. I got you, Barb.

Once the tape has finished playing, Sir sets the recorder down and shuts her eyes to think. I take the chance to pull out my handkerchief and dry my eyes without her noticing.

Her eyes shift open as I put my handkerchief. 

The first thing she asks me is, “Why a voice note? I notice that your hands shake, is that why?”

The question catches me off guard. “I guess? I’ll be honest, I’ve never thought about it that much.”

“Was this what prompted them to kill your sister and brother-in-law?”

“You ask a lot of blunt questions,” I laugh quietly through the pain, “but yeah, I’d assume so. After I was rescued, I went back to their house. I guess there was a part of me that still believed that they would be alive when I got back.”

“Grief is… odd from what I’ve researched,” Sir comments thoughtfully. “Not the actual act of grieving, but what can result from it.”

“It was easily the worst day of my life,” I muse and take another swig of whiskey. “It felt like-”

I take a second to gather my thoughts as Sir stares at me.

I give her a sad smile. “Like my world got set on fire. And I was left to sift through the ashes.”

“Fascinating,” she chirps.

I go to take another swig of whiskey, but find that I’ve run out.

“My turn for a question.” I ask, “Do you have any more water?”

She nods and picks up the half full bottle I set down next to me.

After I take another sip of that chemically tasting water, I ask her, “Say, what’s in this water?”

“Is it not just water?”

“Take a sip,” I offer, handing it to her.

She tastes it, ponders the flavor. She hands it back to me and casually replies, “It tastes like Mentats. It must be from Dr. Mobius.”

I pause for a second, weighing my options. I shrug, deciding to take another drink. At least it’s not got dust particles floating in it.

I fall asleep easily soon after. I trust that Sir could keep me safe during the cold desert night.

[indigowallbreaker]

!8 on the fluff list for Edelguard/Bernadetta/Raphael?

It's only after I've finished editing this that I'm looking closer at your prompt and realizing you might have meant 18, not 8? Either way, an interesting trio to put in a Situation. Sorry for the wait!

[prompt rules]

[more Beagles stories]

8. “I’m so proud of you.”

--

Bernadetta's leg bounced under the table. Her hands were clenched in her lap, fists wound as tight as her insides. No matter much she mentally pleaded, Professor Byleth wasn't handing back their tests any faster. It was as if they knew Bernadetta was about to pass out from nerves and took pleasure in her discomfort.

It wasn't even her own test Bernadetta was anxious about. In front of her, Edelgard sat upright and sure, eyes also tracking the Professor as they moved around the classroom. Beside Bernadetta was Raphael, hands clasped on the table top. It was their test scores Bernadetta wanted to know so badly.

Edelgard and Raphael had met multiple times that week to study for this particular test. More accurately-- Edelgard had tutored Raphael several times that week for this test. The guilt of it lay thick in Bernadetta's gut. Edelgard was royalty. She was next in line to be Emperor! If anyone should have been tutoring Raphael, it should have been Bernadetta. And now there was a chance Edelgard's test score could be affect by her lack of proper studying.

Stupid Bernie! Why didn't she offer faster? Why didn't she interrupt their sessions to take over instead? Her own scores could get as low as dirt-- they didn't matter compared to Edelgard's.

"It's easier to study in the library with the materials close at hand," Edelgard had explained when the tutoring plans had first been made. "I know you dislike being out of your room for so long. You may join us when you have the confidence."

But Bernadetta had talked herself out of joining them every time. Even when Raphael had offered to make her a 'Bernadetta Book Barricade' to keep her safe from the rest of the library, Bernadetta had yelled that moving so many books would draw attention and to not go through the trouble. Inside, however, she was happy at his attempt to keep her safe. Even if Edelgard had been shaking her head at the pair of them during the whole conversation.

"Here you are."

The Professor was standing beside Bernadetta, holding out her test. Bernadetta took it and placed in on her desk without looking at the grade. Her gaze was locked on the Professor's hand, which had reached into the stack to grab the next paper. Slowly-- or perhaps it was just slow to Bernadetta-- they handed back Raphael's test. Then Edelgard's in the next row. Then they began speaking to the class about something that went in on of Bernadetta's ears and out the other.

She didn't register anything until the lunch bell rang. Immediately she grabbed Raphael's arm, stopping him from leaving as the rest of the class filed out. Seeing this, Edelgard hesitated by Bernadetta's desk, then waved for Hubert to leave with everyone else.

"What's up?" Raphael asked once the three were alone.

"H-How did you guys do?" Bernadetta's own text crinkled in her grasp.

Raphael grinned with all his teeth. "I nailed this one! Thanks to Edelgard, of course!"

"You knew more to start with than you thought," Edelgard praised as she held up her own passing test score for Bernadetta to observe. "You just needed some help with--"

"I'm so proud of you two!"

Bernadetta buried her face in her palms, trying and failing to hold back sobs of relief. Raphael had gotten a better grade than Bernadetta! Her country's princess had passed with flying colors! The guilt and anxiety that had made it's home in her chest all week had vanished, leaving Bernadetta feeling lightheaded and shaky.

A strong arm wrapped around her shoulders and Edelgard's laughter seemed to wrap Bernadetta just as tight. "That's what's got you so worked up?"

"One test shouldn't cause so much grief," Edelgard said, holding out a handkerchief.

Bernadetta sniffed and took it. "Sorry." She dabbed at her cheeks. "Um, c-could I join in your study sessions next time?"

"Sure yah can! That okay with you, Edelgard?"

"Of course." Edelgard smiled softly as she pushed Bernadetta's bangs away from her tear-sticky face. "We will tackle the next test together."

Relaxing into Raphael's arm, clutching Edelgard's handkerchief, Bernadetta returned the smile, confident that she could easily brave a few hours in the library next time.

[mothgodofchaos]

Shadow

I might get yelled at for this one.

Ghost!Damien x GN!Reader, ft. Darkiplier, TW: kidnapping Words: 616

You approach the mayoral building with careful steps, on a call to help release a wandering spirit of one of the previous mayors. It’s not all that different from helping strays find a home, you just help spirits move onto the afterlife proper. You keep your cleansing kit close to you, resting against your thigh as the bag strap crosses your chest. The steps are rather short, so you watch your feet to make sure you don’t slip as you climb the stone steps. 

The city hall welcomes you with a wash of warmth as you enter through the doors, far more pleasant than the chill outside. Your coat is taken by a member of staff, and hung up as they also take your umbrella. It’s not your usual haunted venue, making you wonder what in particular brought this old mayor back. Apparently he’s been missing for a hundred years, yet the hauntings only started a few days ago. 

“He’s over in the west wing, he seems hesitant to leave it. We have tried to coax him into talking, or keeping him company, but he doesn’t seem interested in us. He keeps muttering about something, but anytime any of us try to get close enough to listen, he dissipates.”

“Oh, poor thing sounds lost. I’ll see what I can do. Oh, I didn’t catch your name.” “Entrik, but don’t worry about me too much. I’m sure he needs your help a lot more than you need to know anything about me.”

Weird, but alright. You step through the door to the west wing, and the air gets considerably colder. Part of you regrets taking off your coat, as it almost feels even colder than it did outside. But this should hopefully be a short job if all goes well, and you’ll be able to warm up again in just a little bit. You pull out your flashlight, searching around for any ghost orbs or electrical disturbances. Something creeps in the dark at the end of the hall and you stop in your tracks, staring at it with your light moving frantically around. 

“Hello!? Is anyone there!?”

The only response you get is the rain against the panes of the windows, so you trek on. You cautiously open every door, searching inside for any sign of the ghost. Carefully toeing them open, not wanting to spook him more than you’ve already been spooked by the environment. You come across the last office, cautiously turning the handle of the door and peeking in. Inside, you spot a ghostly blue figure pacing back and forth, translucent and muttering to himself. He spots your light, looking up at you in terror.

“Hey! Hey it’s okay! I’m not here to hurt you, just trying to help. They called me in to help you move on.”

“Y- sh-n- -e -re…”

He continues to try and back up, holding his hands up to create a barrier.

“What? I’m sorry, I can’t understand you.”

You step closer, and he only continues to back up, increasing in speed. Your steps are larger, taking great effort to close the distance. You manage to corner him in the back of the room, trying to take his hand.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

His ghostly blue turns black as you touch his hand, spreading across your body rapidly like a symbiote grabbing hold. You scream as you’re enveloped by the darkness, being pulled away as the two of you sink into the floor. 

Entrik pulls the door closed, satisfied that his problem has been dealt with. It was good to reunite the two of you, perhaps this time he’ll have more time with his games before another mirror incident.