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b33zlebubz · 11 months ago

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RECKLESS ABANDON--------

CHAPTER FIVE - adding fuel to the fire

TASK FORCE 141 X READER (PLATONIC)

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TAGS: gender neutral reader, angst, fluff, slow burn found family, PTSD, trauma bonding, kidnapping, reader is a foster kid in high school, family drama, blood, violence, guns

"After your life falls apart at the seams very early on, you work hard to keep the small amount of peace you still have. Foster care is rough, work is draining, school is a drag...but you eventually find yourself in a good place. All of that quickly goes to waste, however, when your family's unfinished business finally finds its way back to you."

There's a new guy whenever you walk up to the plane. You're never one for people, especially this early in the morning—and you dread conversation as you rub your sore eye and begrudgingly approach.

There wasn’t anything about him that immediately screamed good or bad. He was taller than Price and the aviator sunglasses he's wearing glint against the sun, his arms elbow deep in the engine of the small airplane you are likely about to board. He's in a thick coat despite the warm weather and his laugh was far too loud for your very sleep-deprived brain.

Nikolai. The pilot. Price had mentioned him off-handedly days ago.

You're not sure what to make of him, at first. He's talking with Price whenever you approach, a hand over your brow as you squint against the pink glow of the rising sun that beams over the busy runway. It's warmer out now, and you regret your choice of a hoodie as the sun reaches the dark fabric. Considering where you're going, though, you're pretty sure that won't be a problem for very long.

Price raises an eyebrow at the backpack of stuff and the new clothes on your back, and you pretend not to notice how you can see the gears turning in his head as you turn to the new person in the group. If he’s mad at the obvious evidence that you snuck out, he’s good at hiding it.

Nikolai beams as he sees you walk up and laughs as he ruffles the hair on your head and exclaims in a thick Russian accent: "Look at you, all grown up now! Haven't seen you since you were just a wee thing in Sparky's arms!"

That name again.

"Sparky?" you question, looking at Price as you bat away the hand on your head.

"Your dad," the captain clarifies, patting your arm. "Liked his fire, from what I hear."

"That's one way to put it," Nikolai adds, chuckling. "Your old man lit a whole cartel base aflame, once upon a time. Burned the whole thing to the ground. Was only a bit older than you when he did it, too."

The lighter from the shoebox in your room suddenly feels a bit heavier in your pocket, and you fidget with it as you're soon ushered onto the small plane. You shove your backpack up top and take a random seat on the end. Soap and Ghost follow after you, and the shorter sergeant visibly hesitates when Price holds a hand up, stopping him from sitting down in the seat directly behind the cockpit.

"Kid," he says, cocking his head at the seat. "You sit here."

Soap speaks up, "Aye—"

"Save it, Soap."

You can almost feel Soap's stare burning into the back of your neck as you hesitantly take what must be his usual seat. Ghost chuckles somewhere behind you as Soap strides further back into the plane instead to share a seat with him instead. After that, you watch Price duck out of the plane again for a few minutes, have a very animated talk with Gaz outside, before both him and the sergeant filter in as well.

Gaz sits down in the seat across the aisle from you, letting out a breath that sounds relieved as he lets his head fall back against the seat.

"Captain chew you out for helping me?"

His lips curl into something that is half-grimace, half-smile, "A little."

That piques your interest. "Then what'd he say?"

"'Just asked if anyone saw us."

"Did anyone see us?"

"No."

"Good," you turn your gaze to the window, shifting in your seat to accommodate for the sore bruises on your upper back. "Nobody knows I ate shit on the fire escape, then."

He snorts, shaking his head.

Soon after, you're up in the air.

With nothing to do but stare out the window and clench the armrests whenever the plane vibrates and shifts, you take to people-watching.

You feel almost comically out of place, watching everyone else go about everything like this was all just another day. They're all in fatigues aside from Nikolai, camo pants and T-shirts with respect for Ghost—who seems to throw the idea of uniform out the window. Nikolai and Price talk in front of you, though you can't hear what they say through the wall and the rumbling of the engine. You hear the Lieutenant and Soap behind you accompanied with the sound of scribbling. Ghost speaks in a low voice every so often to tell Soap the nose is crooked or you drew one of the eyes lower than the other, followed by a quiet curse from Soap and a few seconds of loud erasing. Occasionally, his boot brushes against the back of your heel, and every time it does you swear you could kill him.

Gaz offers you a few snacks, muttering something along the lines of Russian base food is somehow worse than the shit they give you at American D-Facs, before he is sound asleep twenty minutes into the plane ride. His lean arms are folded over his chest and his cap is tucked over his eyes, casting shadows over his dark face. You're not sure why he sat with you—but you figure maybe it's the same reason he took you to your house last night. Pity.

Before any of this, you would have resented him for it, but instead you find yourself wondering what you might be able to do to return the favor. You’ll have to corner Price and ask him for advice or his favorite color the next time you get the chance. He might get a kick out of a friendship bracelet…or something. You’re not entirely sure what your thought process was behind grabbing colored yarn out of your drawers whenever you were packing, but you figure you mine-as-well put it to use.

Not like you had anything else to do.

Not wanting to dwell in your thoughts too much, you take to inspecting the lighter in your pocket. It's old and rusted; you doubt you've touched it since tossing it in the box with the rest of your dad's things years ago. The hinges of the cap take some effort to pry open through the dirt crusted onto it, but it still works, and you take the time to thumb off all the gunk. Rubbing the crust off the bottom, you come to realize there's something scratched into the metal. Your brow furrows in confusion whenever a name stares back at you.

RILEY

"The kid's a fucking liability is what they are." Soap's hushed voice catches your attention, and you shove the lighter back in your pocket, listening in a little closer, "Just another loose end to carry around."

You take a breath, shifting your gaze to watch the ocean out the window. Suddenly, you really miss your phone. Some loud, angry music would really be great right now.

"Price has his reasons, and you have your orders. Best not question them."

"'Bet they're lying about not knowing the codes…" Soap huffs, ignoring Ghost's comment. "Just so that we'll protect their sorry ass."

For the first time in your presence, Ghost actually sounds like he might be irritated, "Wouldn't blame 'em if they were, mate."

"They're gonna flip the whole mission tits-up," Soap replies, shifting in his seat behind you to whisper quieter to his Lieutenant. "We're harboring some dead guy's kid—who has zero training and zero experience, might I add—around a fuckin' warzone for no reason. What if Graves, or someone worse, gets 'em and spills our guts? What if they die?"

"Sounds like you need a little more faith in your Captain."

Soap scoffs, "Didn't take you as a dickrider, LT."

"Shut up, Soap, fucking hell…"

After that, they fall silent. You bite back the frustration that bubbles in your chest, filing it back in your brain with everything else from this week to think about later, when you were alone with a pillow to punch.

The plane ride is nearly a full day, and by the end of it you feel like you left half your brain in Texas and the other half in the Atlantic. Waking up way earlier than necessary to break into your foster home definitely didn't help, either. Sleep is fleeting, but when you do happen to catch a few naps, Ghost’s blood-stained mask still fills your brain. This time, Soap's voice echoes around it.

Gaz is the one to stir you awake whenever you all land. It's dark when you open your eyes save for the dim plane lights, and quiet other than the tired shuffling and grumbling of the others gathering their things. Outside, it's freezing, dark, and snowing—and for a moment it feels like you might still be dreaming.

You pause in the parking lot you find yourself in to look up at the heavy snowflakes that flutter around the otherwise silent landscape. Your breath fogs up into the air above you and the cold makes your ears and nose sting. Spending the last few years on the lower regions of the west coast, snow was a concept that had slipped your mind until now. You remember, vaguely, a time where your father would chase you around a yard—throwing snowballs at you as you laughed and attacked him—and you swallow thickly. You're not sure if the sudden thought is a dream you had once, or perhaps a really distant memory, but it's comforting just the same.

Price lags behind the others, noticing how your footsteps pause behind him. He eyes you, for a while; and watches your bruised eye close against the gentle snow and your fists clench and unclench repeatedly.

“Kid.”

You turn to face him, looking dazed. “Hm?”

“You alright?”

He holds your gaze, his eyes heavy with concern. The question isn’t fleeting. He expects an honest answer this time.

Your mouth opens to say the same response you’ve been saying for days to ward off curious people. You hesitate, however, when scenes from the past week flash through your mind and your mouth snaps shut again. Skull mask. Rifles. Pity. Fluorescent lights. Tactical gear and a scar across the cheek.

You let out a breath that shudders slightly and you shake your head.

“Just…” Your voice sounds hoarse. You look away, gesturing vaguely to the plane as if that answered Price’s question at all. “Tired, I guess. Couldn't sleep. Soap was talking shit.”

Price’s brow pinches. “Soap was what?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head and pad through the snow to catch up with him. “Gaz isn’t in trouble, is he?”

Price sighs and it fogs out into the cold. He shakes his head and fishes around his pockets before pulling out a cigar and a lighter. You watch as he presses it to his lips and lights it, the glow lighting up his face in the dark. The bags under his eyes are deeper than they usually are.

"No," he exhales. "Far from it."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

Price chuckles.

"He only would've gotten in trouble if he did something stupid," he says. "What he did wasn't stupid, it was insubordinate. He had a plan and he executed it well…despite how he did it without permission."

"Does he usually do that?"

"Do what?"

"Things without permission."

"No," Price says again and exhales more smoke. "None of them do. Not unless the situation is dire."

A beat passes as you both walk and he smokes. It's silent aside from the rest of 141 talking and walking a little ways in front of you, haloed against the yellow streetlights of the base before you. Funny, it looks almost identical to the one in Texas—but bigger. Liminal. Colder, in more ways than one.

"I feel useless," you say, suddenly, and it's like now that you’ve started your mouth won’t stop running. "I don't have the codes and I can barely break into my own house never mind keep up with any of you guys. I can't do anything, and I hate it. If I'm going to stick around here…I want to be useful, somehow."

Price’s eyebrows raise slightly. In the five days you've spent living on base, Price thinks that might be the first time he's heard you complain—never mind say more than a few clipped sentences to him.

"You weren't supposed to get tangled up in this," Price insists. "So, it's our job to fix it. Not yours."

"I want to, though." You insist, “If I can’t help, I’m a liability.”

"No," Price shakes his head with finality. "No. You’re not, and you won't. Because then you'll end up like him, and that's the last thing any of us want."

You shoot Price a look; one that's somewhere between helpless, shocked, and frustrated. A million things to say cycle through your mind but you can't find the energy to pinpoint which you want to articulate first. So, you bite your tongue as he finishes his cigar and flicks it off in the snow somewhere. The ember dies immediately, and he sets a hand on your shoulder.

"C'mon," he says, softer now, as he picks up the pace. "Let's catch up with the others. Get you some sleep."

You're being brushed off. It stings, but it's a familiar kind of hurt this time. One you've grown up with and one you can manage. One that, pared with the soothing hand on your back and Price's confession that some people here do care what happens to you—is a nearly fatal blow that finally leaves you, for once, without a final word to put in.

A sigh leaves you as you find that you’re too tired to remain angry. Subconsciously, you lean into the hand on your back as you drag your feet towards the base. The rest of the walk is comfortingly silent, and snow falls silently around you as you watch the ice at your feet.

If you listened close enough, you could hear each individual snowflake hit the white ground, and for the first time in years you feel like you might've found something that feels slightly like home.

@brokenpieces-72 @warenai @pertinentpostmortem @kaoyamamegami @hayleybarnesx @scuftryo @0alk0msan @synthe4u @stunkbiggu @karurururu @nostalgialeech

#kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #call of duty #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader #call of duty reader insert #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader

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inlovewithpandora · 1 year ago

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- Motherless Child -

Pairing: Earth!1610 Miles [18] x fem!reader [18] (ft. Mama Rio)

Request: [ 🥀 anon ] Miles1610! X reader who’s home life is horrible, readers dad was killed and mom gets drunk and has men over all the time who abuse reader but their mother doesn’t care at all, she’s almost just emotionless || miles wakes up at the middle of the night to tapping on the window, revealing the reader who has bruises she’s obviously trying to cover with his hoodie she took and is saying she’s over just because she wanted to be here, his mom gets home late from work and hears them talking about what happened because he obviously found out, she walks in, mad that he has someone over without asking, and sees reader crying and realizes what its about because she’s mama rio and noticed readers abnormal behavior (flinching, wearing long sleeves and hoodies to hide bruises) and tells her that she’s welcome to come over any time while comforting her with miles.

Synopsis: When having a rough time with your mom you go to your boyfriend’s house to find a sense of peace and comfort you can never find in your own home.

Content/Warnings: implied black reader (but can imagine any way you want), Aged!up Miles, Angst + hurt w/ comfort, alcoholic and slightly abusive mom, mentions of bruises, mentions of physical abuse, sleep deprived reader, emotional reader, crying, Miles being there for reader, Mama Rio being a motherly figure

❖ - if you are uncomfortable with some/any of the content above please DNI!!

Author’s Note: Rose thank you for sending in this request! I hope you enjoy and that it meets your expectations! This was a really good request and I enjoyed writing it even though it tugged on my heart strings. Let me know what you think by sending an anonymous ask or comment if you feel comfortable!

❖ - if enough ppl are interested I’m willing to make a part two so lmk!

Word Count: 1.7K

Glossary: Querida - Darling || buenas noches amor - Good night love || mija - my daughter || n/n = nickname

Extra: Requests are open! Please read rules before requesting! || Likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated❤️!

Links: Navigation || Atsv Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist

You're sleeping peacefully in your room, trying to drown out the problems of your horrific home life. Your mom was in the living room entertaining one of her many men she has over. Whenever they came, you tried your best to stay out of their way because they always found a way to lay their filthy hands on you. The worst part is that your mom would watch them manhandle you, creating a range of bruises on your brown skin and she wouldn’t even bat an eye.

Your mom used to show you motherly affection, but after your dad was killed, that part of her died right along with him. She began to heavily drink to drown her pain and sorrows and whenever she needed the warmth of a man she always had someone to call. At first, you didn’t think your mom knew about what they did to you, until one day you saw her standing in your doorway as one of her many men had a harsh grip on bicep. She would watch the tears cascade down your face, your eyes boring at her, silently begging her to make it stop, but she didn’t listen. Instead she would just walk into the kitchen, ready to indulge in her fifth alcoholic beverage for the night.

She always had the ability to make you feel like a Motherless child, even though she was living in the same house as you.

As you doze off, you hear the sound of someone barging into your room. You open your eyes and see your mother towering over you. “Get up and come clean this house. It’s a mess and I have more company coming over.” She says as she takes a swig of the alcoholic substance in her cup.

“Mom, can I sleep, please? I haven’t been able to get any sleep lately.” Your mom has been having you doing all types of errands this week and it’s gotten to the point where it’s beginning to take a toll on your physical health. As you begin to explain your feelings, all it does is anger her. In her eyes you're being defiant and to her it’s only one way to deal with a misbehaving child.

She pulls your cover back and yanks you out of the bed. Once your feet are planted on the floor, she begins to yell at you. “Don’t you ever talk back to me! I am your mother. Whatever I tell you to do, you do it!”

“Mom, I promise I wasn’t trying to talk back I was just-” When you feel a harsh slap come across your cheek, your words immediately gets lodged in your throat. The sting on your face is unbearable, as the pain spreads through your face, your mother’s words are no longer registering. All you want to do is get out of this house, to escape the life you’ve been dealt even if it was for a few minutes.

All you want is a sense of love and peace and you know one person that always makes you feel that way. When your mother leaves your room, you grabbed Miles' hoodie –that you took from his closet the last time you were over his house– and put it on so he wouldn’t be alarmed by your bruises. You carefully climb out your window and walk to Miles’ house, in hopes that he would help your night go better than it has so far.

—

When the sound of tapping hits Miles ears, he rises from his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, trying to figure out where the sound is coming from. When he looks around his room, he doesn’t see anything until his eyes focus on the dark silhouette standing outside his window. He stands up and gets closer to the window and that’s when he realizes it’s you.

“y/n?” He whispers to himself wondering what you're doing outside at the wee hours of the night.

He opens the window and puts out his hand so he can help you inside. “Baby, are you okay? What are you doing here?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I just wanted to come see you.” As you talk to Miles, he notices how you have on a hoodie when it’s currently humid in Brooklyn. He assumes you just threw it on to come see him, so he decides to offer you a change of clothes.

“Here, you can wear one of my shirts, so you can take that hot hoodie off.” When he tries to pull down the hood and uncover your face, you flitch, pulling yourself away from him, which is something you’ve never done before. When you turn your face to the side, he sees a dark spot from where your mom slapped you. Seeing that mark plus your actions reveales to him that something bad must’ve happened.

“y/n, I know something happened, I can tell. I don’t wanna force you, but can you please tell me what’s wrong?” Hearing his concerned tone and the worry etched into his face makes you decide to let it all out, to tell and show him everything. After seeing the mark you knew he grew curious and would want answers and with him being your boyfriend, the person your suppose to confide in, you felt like he deserved the truth.

“Okay, I’ll tell you.” You take a deep breath and begin to spill out everything you’ve been bottling up inside.

—

After a long shift, Rio finally comes home. She quietly walks around the apartment, so she doesn’t wake up Miles. As she tiptoes past his room, she hears two voices, his and yours. She grows upset because she’s told him numerous times to not have people over without asking and especially at this ungodly hour.

When she puts her hand out to turn his doorknob, she hears you explain to Miles everything that’s been happening in your life. As a mother, it breaks her heart to hear that those horrible things are happening to you, but what angers her the most is to hear that your mother approves of it. She didn’t know any of these things were happening at home and neither did Miles, this is their first time hearing this information.

When Rio finally decides to walk inside, she sees you crying while showing Miles the bruises that adorned your arms and other parts of your body. And when you notice her walking in, you frantically pull your sleeves and hoodie down and wipe your tears. “I-I’m sorry Mrs. Morales, I shouldn’t have come especially with it being so late. I’ll go back home.” You stand up and start walking to Miles' window and he tries to convince you to stay, but you’re adamant about leaving because you don't want to disrespect Rio’s rules.

Miles looks at his mom, silently asking her to try to make you stay because he doesn’t want you to go back home to that toxic, abusive environment and neither did she.

“Querida, wait don’t go.” Rio’s voice makes you turn around. “y/n, I heard what you told Miles, about what happens at home and I want you to know that me, Miles, and Jeff are here for you. You don’t have to go home tonight if you don’t want to and you can even stay here with us if you like.”

“Stay here? You mean permanently, like I don’t have to live with my mom anymore?” You’ve always dreamed of moving out and living a normal life, but it has been only a dream. Now that you have a real opportunity to move out, you don't know how to respond.

“Yes, permanently. We have a guest room we rarely use, so it can be yours.” Rio doesn’t mind inviting you into her home because she knows you are a sweet, kind, and good-hearted person. After the things she heard you’ve gone through and seeing the bruises with her own eyes, she knows that she can’t let you go back your mom.

A smile couldn’t help but curl onto your lips when you hear Rio’s offer. To know that you finally have an opportunity to free yourself from your mom overwhelmes you with happiness. “Thank you Mrs. Morales, you don’t know how much this means to me.” More tears begin to flow down your face, making Rio pull you in for a hug. When you feel her arms wrapped around your body, you feel an emotion you haven’t felt in a long time: motherly love.

It’s heavily radiating from her and it makes you feel safe, that no one else could put you in harm's way. When you pull back from Rio she places one hand on your shoulder and uses the other one to push your hair out of your face and tuck it gently behind your ear. “You’re always welcome here, mija, remember that.” Rio flashes you a reassuring smile before looking over to her son. “You and y/n can stay up a little longer and then I want you both to rest, okay?” Miles nods softly and with that Rio leaves the room and closes the door.

“Are you okay, n/n?” He asks as both of you sit down on his bed.

“I’m okay now, you and your mom helped me feel better.” You tell him as you rest your head on his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. They truly uplifted your spirits from the sunken place they were in before.

“I’m glad we could help. All I want to do is help you and make sure you’re okay. Your my first priority, always.” He slowly and gently grabs your hand so it wouldn’t startle you and then he places a soft kiss on your it, physically showing you that he is there for you. The feeling of his lips on your skin makes a fuzzy sensation flow through your body; a pleasurable sensation he always makes you feel anytime you are around him.

For the rest of the night, both of you talk until you start growing tired. You and Miles lay back onto his bed and snuggle up against each other, happily engulfing the other into your embrace.

“Buenas noches, amor.” He kisses your forehead softly and tightens his grip around your torso to make you feel safe, which you deeply appreciated. He wants you to always feel safe, comfortable, and protected around him and you’ve never stopped feeling that way, especially in this moment with the night you’ve endured.

Now being able to say that you have the opportunity to leave your home and live somewhere surrounded by love, support and affection is definitely going to help you get the rest you’ve been craving. You nuzzle your head into his chest, and murmur your last words before you let sleep take over.

“Good night, Miles.”

I hope you enjoyed❤️!

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summertimemusician · 1 year ago

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*downs coffee like a shot* Before we go back to our regularly scheduled Linktober/Linktober Shadow (because I don't leave things unfinished if I can help it), I gotta get the idea of Revenant First out of my system and y'all get to suffer with me until it eventually ceases being an idea and it turns into an actual story. For some reason we talk a lot about First already being alive or already a ghost by the time the Chain meets him, but I don't think I've ever heard someone talk about him actually coming back to life and so y'all get to suffer with my insane ramblings like I'm an 1800's psychic ward patient who believes themselves to be a witch.

Can be x Reader or not idk just an idea that won't leave my mind.

Might expand on this later so Part out of I/?

Revenant First, who died for his people and in the name of his Goddess. All alone on the surface, fighting, fighting, fighting, always fighting. Just to make the land a little safer before the next hero arrives, just to contain the Imprisoned for a little while longer with likely nothing than a ordinary, common sword to his name and a slowly rusting armor.

Always giving so so so much for his people, always doing his best to protect them, though they scorned him, loathed him, didn't believe or support him, rejected him.

With a spirit so strong and lovely that a Goddess fell for him, hated herself for having to manipulate and put him through such horrid experiences just to save the many, just to turn the diamond of his soul into an unbreakable lonsdaleite blade agaisnt a mad deity.

Someone whose will would be enough to keep him going, just one more fight right? Just one more kill right? Forward, forward, ever onward, it doesn't matter if the flesh decays, if the blood drips drips drips until he is dry of it, if the liver doesn't process nutrients, if the lungs don't draw air, if the nerves feel nothing but the cold cold numbness of the winter of his final years, if the heart doesn't beat. If the armor rusts or the sword breaks. He must keep going, he must keep fighting.

To keep them safe he must have faith, faith that he can keep going, to grasp onto that one.single.thread of purpose until the day that fiery, indomitable, determined will finally burns out. Even if his Goddess may have forsaken him knowingly or unknowingly, even if his people have rejected him to the point he isn't even human anymore, even though they reviled him, even if that rejection should by all intents and purposes chained his spirit to the land or ground the jewel of his unbreakable soul into dust, he still loves them, still adores them, still wants to protect them.

No matter how long he must keep going for it. He wishes to see those he holds dear happy, though they cursed and imprisoned him once.

The Chain getting dropped into a completely empty, desolated and undeniably dead version of Sky's Hyrule, only to find the only living thing besides monster is a single man, with rusted gold armor and an old sword, a faded tunic of green with a long, crimson scarf like a bloody banner. With hair and eyes like theirs, undeniably a Link. But so very frigid, so very silent they almost didn't notice him, that they can't help but wonder just how many years he has spent there, eroding away, ruined but still kind, kind, so very gentle. A shadow of his former self, yes, but still himself, still so so so good, doing all he can until Sky's Era comes and maybe, just maybe, he can finally rest.

Or maybe not, after all, someone has to keep the land safe until the Hero after Sky comes around, no?

Just Revenant First in general.

Or maybe we give him the House in Fata Morgana treatment, the House in Fata Hylia Au if you will- *collapses from sleep deprivation*

#linked universe headcanons #lu first #lu fic idea #Revenant First #lu first x reader #maybe? it's mostly just an idea lol #might expand on this later lol #Also knows as what happens when Summer is sleep deprived while doing essays takes a break by listening to The House in Fata Morgana OST #and suddenly gets First in the brain lol #still have way too much First Hero on the brain that man deserves the world but at the same time I want to put him into Situations lol #Feral Revenant First being protective of the Chain my beloved #Sky being so confused because Fi at the same time recognizes the man and has just started lowkey crying and screaming in chimes #Twi Wind Hyrule and Time not knowing wether to be morbidly intrigued or horrified because he registers as both dead and alive to them #Meanwhile First is just chilling #doing his own thing and probably bonding with Wild over 'Being Dead but Got Better'#Probably doesn't even register he shouldn't be moving anymore after taking a stab to the heart or something lol #if we want to make an X Reader kind of thing then it's literally his love for Reader which also allows him to keep going #alongside sheer force of will and determination #Michel and Giselle vibes ya know? lol #Wait would that make Hylia Morgana? Or could it be Demise or something? Eh #I dunno might expand on that later/write out that Au later on as a self indulgent thing #Anyway for now ya'll get this until I am finally not swamped with literature/language essays and fistfighting sleep deprivation #Summer Writes #Summer Writes Linked Universe Headcanons #Summer's Sleep Deprived Headcanons

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hylianmewmew · 11 months ago

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maybe i do: ch 4 little did he know

read ch 3 here ♡ read ch 5 here

Sidon heaved a sigh on his mad dash to the meeting hall. He didn’t mean to spend most of the night chatting with Link. Not that he minded at all but he was the King!! He couldn’t be late to his own goddesses-damned council meeting. His father, Yona and Muzu would understand he wanted to catch up with his dear friend so desperately. That mental reassurance didn’t make Sidon feel any better about his tardiness. As he neared the meeting hall he straightened his regalia and briefly caught his breath mere minutes before they were due to begin the meeting. He slid into his seat at the head of the table and waited for Muzu to begin reading the agenda for today.

After the meeting Yona pulled Sidon aside. Before he had the ability to panic about whatever she might want to talk to him about she grinned devilishly. Pulling him close she talked softly, “How was your time last night with Link? Talk about anything fun?” With the last sentence there was a glimmer in her eyes, like she knew something Sidon didn’t.

Sidon cleared his throat, “We caught up on everything since the disappearances. Turns out he’s been doing everything but interacting with others.” Shaking his head he sighed. “Poor Link if I’m being honest. I think he’s losing more memories than he’s recovering, he didn’t even remember who Mipha was…” Yona looked into his eyes lovingly, while they lacked the romance they still loved each other like family.

They both knew going into this marriage they weren’t attracted to each other at all, Yona it turned out isn’t remotely attracted to men. She had told him that she was an only child of her parents, the leaders of her tribe which lived outside of the Domain. This was purely political, more of a legal friendship of sorts. Sidon’s father was told after the wedding about his and Yona’s true feelings for each other. Fortunately Dorephan was a kind and accepting man, he simply requested that for the time being they kept up appearances as a couple. This didn’t bother Sidon, in fact it was a great relief. He hadn’t come out to his father as queer before that point, if he didn’t have Yona by his side he might not have ever done so. Never once since that point had Yona pressured Sidon about potential romantic partners nor had he done so to her. They had discussed what they would do about an heir and Sidon had even confided in his father about this concern. Dorephan had simply assured Sidon that the time would come where he would know what to do but until then to live life to the fullest and serve his people well.

Sidon had a sneaking suspicion Yona knew more about his romantic feelings than she let on. Despite his lean towards being more attracted to men he did sometimes crush on another gender. He knew he was probably the biggest hopeless romantic in all of the domain but that didn’t stop him from gushing about an imaginary potential partner or even how he would sweep them off their feet. He had a love for theatrics, if or when he fell in love he was certain he would make his partner feel like they were the most treasured person in all of Hyrule. Even just thinking about someone he had made-up sent Sidon into a blushing tizzy. Zora romance novels were another thing he adored, there was nothing better than curling up with the latest romance book and reading until the sun rose the next morning.

Speaking of the next morning, Sidon groaned as a sleep deprived headache began to grow at the center of his forehead. As much as he loved the precious hours he had spent with Link last night there was no denying he was not a night person and deeply regretted the potential sleep that he had lost. A fair price to pay, he supposed and by the gods he had missed Link. More than he thought. It had been far too long since he had heard anything about what Link had been up to after he had reappeared without Queen Zelda. He had only heard of the power struggle that was occurring in Castletown as they had no direct heir linked to Zelda and the Hyrulian council had no idea what to do if she didn’t return. But more importantly he learned how badly her vanishing had eaten away at Link. He could tell the Hylian blamed himself for everything that had happened in the past 120 years. Especially about Zelda, more than anything about Zelda.

He knew Link had a pension for putting everything on his shoulders, attempting to carry the weight of the world. But Link was slowly drowning, anyone close to him saw that. Link refused to allow talk of his lack of self preservation or habit of bearing the brunt of all the world’s troubles. This pained Sidon, he wanted to help Link so badly, but if Link wasn’t going to accept the help, Sidon feared this would break his dear friend.

Dear. Friend.

Is that what Link considered him? A friend? He had noticed Link seemed puzzled everytime Sidon had referred to him as anything more than a political and combat ally. Something had happened to Link, he was sure of it. Did Link forget again? Forget their friendship, the battles they fought side by side? Was that… supposed to hurt Sidon so much? The idea that Link truly did begin to lose the memories he made and those he had recovered from before his 100 year sleep. It sucked the breath out of Sidon’s lungs and made his heart feel like it was being held in a vice grip.

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

The day went by smooth enough, however he had caught no sign of Link. Not that he had much time to rest or search for him, the council was planning a diplomatic expedition to Gerudo Town to discuss annual trade agreements. As there was no current heir to the throne and his father was in much too fragile of a state at his age that Bazz and a couple of his guards would accompany Mata, one of the newer diplomatic envoys. Sidon wished he could go, it would feel nice to get out of the Domain for once he knew as king, he was needed here.

The sunset looked splendid outside, the light dancing across the water in the reservoir. Maybe he and Yona should take Link out by the reservoir for dinner. This perked Sidon up and he went off to locate Yona and see what her thoughts were.

Seeing her turn a corner, Sidon picked up his pace and called for her once the distance between them was short enough. “Yona! I had a wonderful idea! We should invite Link out to the reservoir for a waterside meal!”

That glimmer in Yona’s eyes was back, but just momentarily as her face saddened at his suggestion. “Oh dear, I’m afraid I was just headed back to our chambers. I’ve developed a headache and would like some resting time. But feel free to go off with Link without me, I’m sure you would be more than glad to spend some more time with him. Don’t worry about me though, I’ll be just fine.” She patted Sidon’s hands which he had unconsciously clasped together anxiously.

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

Sidon had an attendant invite Link to the eastern reservoir so he could run to the kitchens and grab some ingredients to prepare a picnic for him and Link. He’d thought just a sandwich making kit, something even Sidon could think of on the fly. (It was actually one of the cook’s ideas, that way he and Link could spend more time eating and talking than preparing food.) Sidon was giddy as he toted the food in a basket to the spot he had picked out for their ‘outing’. He shook off the fleeting thought that this was a date, obviously. Now annoyed at his queer ass brain latching on to the idea of romancing any pretty man. Wait. No. He definitely didn’t mean it that way. Link was by no means unattractive, gods, he had practically all of Hyrule swooning over him. Which: could mean Sidon was included, but he wasn’t! Sidon most certainly wasn’t swooning over the man that was his dearest friend. Absolutely not.

There was zero, ZERO time for Sidon to regain his composure as Link approached. He was very obviously trying to make himself be heard, trudging across the stone pathway in a very clunky manner. Sidon had never seen Link not be extremely agile and unintentionally graceful in each movement he made. And watching him on the battlefield was like watching a skilled dancer. Link combined the movements of a seasoned warrior with those of the most elegant of dancers, each parry and jab fluid yet methodical.

Link waved, finally giving up on making himself known now that Sidon had noticed him. His eyes snapped down to the food covered blanket then up to Sidon’s face, then back to the food. Confusion became more and more etched into his expression the longer he stood there. Just looking. Look at Sidon, then the food, repeating this ridiculous act a few more times. By the 3rd time Sidon knew Link had caught on and was just fucking with him now. However the confusion didn’t completely leave his face.

“So.” Link’s signs were brisk and somehow a tiny bit sassy. “Picnic time? By the water. Hm. Is this? A date?” By the end of that sentence Link smirked mischievously, he was still toying with Sidon.

This however, was not amusing to Sidon who fumbled over his words, “I– what? No! It– was supposed to you, Yona and I! But– she had a headache! Oh Link I apologize profusely if this has made you uncomfortable in any way whatsoever. You do not need to stay if so! I. I’m so sorry Link!”

Link wasn’t taking this seriously apparently and began to snicker at the allegedly put together Zora King. There wasn’t a doubt in Link’s mind that this man was anything but put together. “Relax! I was just teasing. It’s not like I’m going to expect to be wooed by a King let alone one who’s married. I barely know you anyways, even though it feels like I’ve known you forever.” Link still held that smirk as he casually sat down on the checked blanket and stretched out his legs.

Sidon’s heart dropped to his feet, his heart picking up pace as he willed himself not to have a full blown mental breakdown in front of Link. Forcing himself to maintain composure at least outwardly. He started to speak, so soft he barely felt the vibrations of his vocal chords. “Link.” Nope, try again. “Link, I thought you remembered all your time in the Domain. Even before the 100 years we had played together when Queen Zelda and her family traveled here for meetings and trade agreements.” Sidon’s head tail fell slack, smacking himself in the neck. “Please tell me you at least remember us fighting together and freeing Vah Ruta from the waterblight!” At that, Sidon couldn’t fully keep his composure but refused to let Link see him cry. He choked back a sob and looked over at Link who had such a deathly pale coloring to his skin Sidon was partially worried if he’d caused something horrid to happen inside Link’s mind.

Link didn’t move. He just sat there, eyes aimed at his trembling hands that he had clasped together in a death grip. His eyes might’ve been aimed at his hands but Sidon didn’t think that Link was truly present right now. Oh gods what had Sidon done. DIdn’t Yona suggest that Link might not be back in a mental state where he could handle big emotions, exactly like the bigger than big emotions that it seemed Sidon had just triggered in Link. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

There wasn’t much Sidon could do other than sit there in terror as he watched Link’s eyes dilate so large the brilliant blue of his irises were barely visible. So, so much dread filled Sidon’s chest. If Link never wanted to step foot in Lanayru for the rest of time Sidon could cast no blame. Link’s face crumpled in anguish, a small, sharp gasp escaping his lips. Before he could stop himself Sidon reached across and gingerly took one of Link’s small trembling hands within his own. He stroked Link’s calloused but still soft hand with his thumb. He waited for Link to pull away but his hand relaxed ever so slightly.

“Oh, Link. I so deeply apologize for this. I had no idea your memories were being lost again. I’m so sorry. I would never have said the things I did if I knew how much it would trigger you so severely. I can’t begin to imagine what horrors you’ve had to face. Alone at that.” Link mumbles something, then again slightly louder. “...Song…my ocarina…” This puzzled Sidon, what was an ocarina? It must be an instrument of sorts but he had never heard of such a thing. “Please.” Link signed over and over growing more desperate as he continued to sign. With this small, frantically repetitive sign Sidon’s heart broke in a way he didn’t know it could.

Sidon began to hum a melody he remembers Mipha humming to him as a child. The tune was meant as a lullaby for Zora guppies, the trills in the song were only noises a Zora could make. His breathing slowed, falling into the peaceful rhythm of the lullaby he hummed. Link’s clammy hand that Sidon held trembled less severely now. His breathing began to slow as well, eyes drifting closed. His body, now exhausted from the traumatic flashback he had endured, slumped over with his head landing next to Sidon’s other hand which was propping his body up.

Relieved, Sidon let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. He was scared to let go of Link’s hand or cease humming the lullaby. So he sat there, humming, and stroking Link’s hand gently. His gentle snores assured Sidon that he had managed to calm down at least for now.

Sidon could only pray to the gods Link’s dreams were more peaceful than what horrors he faced awake.

#legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #tloz #maybe i do #sidlink #tears of the kingdom #sidon x link #link #sidon #mute link #link is nonspeaking and uses hylian version of sign language #nonspeaking link #breath of the wild #mew fics

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galaxirin · 2 years ago

Note

001 for holyvicar for you too mhm~

Link to questions

001 | send me a ship and I will tell you:

When I started shipping it if I did:

I started shipping it when I started reading fics of it on AO3. It was legit the first fic I saw so I decided “why not” and went in blind… yeah I got a religious experience there. (Thank you subzero for petal veined devourer.)

My thoughts:

The perfect tragic couple. Meant to be but wrong place, wrong time, and fated to be separated no matter what they do. It’s so poetic that it hurts and it makes me want to scream and cry for days. I even made a Playlist and I’m listening to it right now for the ✨vibes✨

What makes me happy about them:

The prospect of them finding happiness even through the suffering around them. The little things that make them appreciate life to the fullest 🥹 and even through the suffering they give each other they still yearn for each other’s affections… ough….

What makes me sad about them:

That the moment they met, they were fated to die alone and in the peak of beasthood. No matter what they did to try and change things their fate will forever stay the same. One will die in the hands of the other and the one left alone will be taken over by grief and guilt to the point of madness. It’s so good… but it makes me want to cry sometimes.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me:

When they make Laurence the “uwu be gentle 🥺🥺” twink bottoms. That is a grown man. I really don’t like the heterosexualisation of the ship. And also making Ludwig this super macho extreme top “I will protect you” character. Make him shy!!! Awkward!!! A gentle giant!!! And how some fics are repetitive??? Especially when it comes to the more mature fics

Things I look for in fanfic:

Character analyzations. Top Laurence. And also them actually bonding over normal tasks such as having tea, walking through a park, etc. I just love love dialogue heavy fics for holyvicar. Especially if it’s through the perspective of Laurence, there needs to be more fics in his perspective since he’s such a complicated and 3 dimensional character that it needs to be in his perspective to get his entire character.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

Laurence it’s definitely Gehrman! Moon divorce is up there with my ships and their canon interactions feed me for weeks on end.

Ludwig maybe Simon!! The tragedy of the whole ship is what keeps me going. Also bc I Read fics on It and they’re so so good.

My happily ever after for them:

Farm arc farm arc. Ludwig raising the horses and other animals in the farm, helping with the more taxing chores while Laurence teaches children and helps him sometimes… really just them growing old together and their 19372872 horse children…

Who is the big spoon/little spoon:

Laurence is the big spoon. He wants to hug Ludwig like a koala. But when they started this Ludwig was so shy he couldn’t sleep and ended up being sleep deprived out of his embarrassment for being the little spoon lol

What is their favourite activity:

Tea time while talking about whatever topic that interests them in a pleasant afternoon,,, maybe laughing about an inside joke and teasing the other for their specific tastes in snacks. Like Laurence liking more neutral snacks like bread and sandwiches while Ludwig is an extreme sweet tooth (13 sugar cubes in his tea) and loves cakes.

#they make me insane.#laurence the first vicar #ludwig the holy blade #rin asks #holyvicar #bloodborne headcanons

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gemmahale · 6 months ago

Text

Holy shit, Mads. This...this is something else. (Yes it's taken me 4 days to respond because I'm still reeling.)

The color coding is probably my favorite part of my entire set-up. I love color.

From your final notes: I shall not stop, for I cannot be stopped. 😘 Fics springing forth completely finished is more or less how I write. Little nuggets to nibble on, and eventually you'll get the whole thing lol. (Also thank you for comparing me to a deity, I think I shall swoon now.) And you should have less concern about your sanity because you're all caught up! 🤣 It'll be a lot slower now.

Anyway, I'm going to answer each review below the cut, because incoherent screaming doesn't cut it. 💚💚

Feylands Josie's my favorite of my OC's right now. She's such a smitten kitten. 🥰 (Also re: who Gary is - look up Roach's legal name. 😉) I'm so excited to share more of this (when I get around to writing more, lol).

Call of the Wild As a wavy hair girl who's been doing too much research into how to style it, I love including small details that make my OC's/headcannon thoughts more human and varied - curly hair, hearing aids, etc.

(Side note: I think that prologue is actually from the Contract prequel. I might have it mistagged, that wouldn't surprise me. But yes, the sensations are so crucial to my stories too!!)

Corporal Distraction Augh, I need to get back to this one. I love the premise. Sleep-deprived Soap is a menace. 😎 The second take of this is one I like a lot more than my original attempt.

Flowers from My Love Eeee, I'm so glad you liked the casserole. I'm hoping I can use it to settle the 141's voices a little bit better. The moodboard was a riot to make, and Pepper is my baby. (I need to do a bit of background work on this one and more concrete plotting/plot solving, but I love it.)

Palace Hallways Ugh, I hadn't even thought of the D&D connotations until now! I mean, I sort of had, but I totally feel you on stories ending. 😭 Hopefully this one lives up to what I want to have happen.

Edge Dressing What if...I told you I had...hm...maybe a Laswell meeting Letty story in the cannon too? Hm? Maybe? (I make no guarantees it'll be Letty. It's a concept only at this point.)

Embroidered Secrets This one I have aspirations for. But I need to do more research. 🤓 I'm so glad you love it though, because that gives me motivation!

141 Studios I'm so glad you'd read a multiseries of this, because that's probably what it'll turn into! I love world-building and this leant itself so well to that. (And I have friends who have worked in the adult entertainment/porn industry that I can glean nuggets of info from.) This PS!Simon is suuuuch a big gruff teddy bear, I adore him. Also the lube thing - I had a partner that did lubed wrestling one summer at a kink retreat. I'm not surprised. 😂

Protege's Trust NOOOOOOOO. That peeves me (I know it was the accents that fucked it up - my phone autocorrects, my computer does not). Try this link if you want. Because it's SO GOOD. Enemies to ??? to lovers. Price/Gaz and Laswell/Compton reflections. What happens when your two protege's can't stand each other? You keep putting them in situations where they can't get away from it. (I think I've fixed the link now?)

Museum Muse You yelling about it in my DM's made me cackle. I'm glad you don't know what's going on, you'll find out.

Brix Annabeth is a goddess among mortals for being able to withstand that man's charms. (TBH I had totally forgotten about that scene because it did emerge fully developed - swear I was possessed writing that one.)

Squeamish Stitches Weirdest one-shot (maybe more) I've ever written. In the sense of "I don't know where I'm going with this beyond this one scene". Tbh, Ghost being a cock-block makes me laugh so hard because again, Gaz is down so bad for Glitz.

Useful Girl I love teaching people new things! Tbh, I learned that from a professor who was whinging about the fact that basically no one came to class on a day right after a holiday lol. Secretary wasn't a direct line I'd made (tbh I can't stand the film, oops), but I can see the resemblance!!! (They WILL negotiate on screen though)

Highland Tartans That line tickled me to write - I'm so glad you picked up on it. Again, historical research needed, but also literary license ftw ;).

WIP WRITES RIGHTS NOW! I SAID WIP WRITES RIGHTS NOW

blahblahmaster rant list link blahblah dont look at me

PSA when you only just discover a moot is a prolific writer you run to read all her writing and comment in excruciating detail cc: @gemmahale

blorbo x named oc fans, this one’s for you (it’s me, im talking about me)

please see below a random and incomprehensive ramblelist of my stream of consciousness as I sampled from gemma's works:

Feylands WIP

I find the content warning tags extremely titillating (also I have not seen such a prolifically well organized tag list AND color coordinated to boot like gemma’s blog???? putting my outlook inbox/work docs/excel sheets to shame!!!) and I don’t even read/like fae stories (yes I never read ACOTAR and I don’t plan to anytime soon, I missed that booktok ship, most likely cos im not on the tikky tokky as the children like to say, i watch the reposts on instagram like a proper mlllenial)

Josephine’s heart pitter-pattered at the compliment, heat climbing up her cheeks as she mumbled a thanks, their eyes locking again.

🥰🥰🥰NOT THE PITTER PATTER

my inquisitive ass is already like “what’s gary’s real name” and “hearing aid = soap b/c of all the damn bombs he blows up?” “but i headcanon gaz with freckles, maybe it’s gaz? gaz = gary?” “or maybe ghost = gary?” GEMMA GIVE US WIPS I MEAN HINTS PUT ME OUTTA MY MISERY

Call of the Wild WIP

I love the little note gemma included about this being inspired by @deadbranch (shoutout to branchy btw my beloved) - honestly floored at all the beautiful fic/headcanon/drabbles/askfills ive read that are the brainchilds birthed from love for other creators’ brainchildren

also equally floored at how many of writers here are like “this incredibly layered/moving/tender/spicy/nasty fic came to me in a dream”

also SUBVERTED TROPES SUBVERTED TROPES SUBVERTED TROPESSSSS

Kyle cleared his throat, shifting his stance. “She prefers to be called a wolf.”

AHAHAHAHAHAHA GODDDD THIS WAS A ZINGER

“Please!” Kyle called back, face half covered in shaving cream.

i need fanart of this right fucking now let me, i mean shannon, sorry oops but haha..unless? finishing shaving you bby

and FUCKING ROACH IS IN THIS FIC HOLD ME BACK OR YOU *WILL* GET CAUGHT IN THE CROSSFIRE OF ME TEARING APART THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE BECAUSE MY BRIEF HYPERFIXATION ON ROACH IS BACK WITH A VENGEANCE FROM THIS SMALL SNIPPET AND IN THIS 500 PG DISSERTATION I WILL-

also THAT PROLOGUE APPETIZER SLAYED ME

“The way I see it, you’re fucked either way. You don’t make it out of here, you’re fucked. You become mine, you’re fucked - but in the good way.”

this + the mention of bulge + damp cheek definitely brought a visceral IRL memory for me (affectionate/horny)

also sidenote: it’s the little things that matter and gemma i see you gurl and salute you - incorporating things like hearing aids, mentioning roach is HoH/using sign language, shannon using a shower cap for her curly hair - 😘👌

Corporal Distraction WIP

holy MOTHER OF FUCK THIS SHORT LITTLE EXCHANGE IS FUCKING HOOOOOOOOOT

The captain moved closer to her, gently lifting her chin up with his finger. “So you’re the bird that’s got my sergeant distracted.”

“Sir?”

“Been trying to figure out what’s got Gaz so twisted up lately. Figured it was a partner, didn’t think it was a Corporal under him.” He didn’t release her chin, now holding it between his thumb and finger. “Has good taste, at least,” he muttered, eyes shifting to the Lieutenant, who only huffed in response.

any premise that fucks with/frustrates/sleep-deprives soap has my heart 🥰

Flowers From My Love WIP

the bit where they discuss the casserole perfectly encapsulates each of the boys imho - price grunting out a response, soap eagerly asking about the food (such youngest of the group/im baby vibes), gaz picking up on the note and name/# left, ghost grumbling and ofc he fucking HAS to bring up manchester-

and the MOODBOARD!!!! God I fucking love when writers flesh out a bit of their worldbuilding with related art, moodboards, face claims, etc etc etc i WILL lick up every crumb from the floor like a starving doggo- fun fact, one of my first interactions in cod fandom was requesting a moodboard from @the-californicationist (also shoutout to cali my beloved)

and PEPPER THE SERVICE DOG OH MY LORD PLEASE GOD IF THE 141 MEN CAN’T BE REAL LET PEPPSY BE REAL PLEASE GOD IF I HAD TO ASK FOR ONE THING FROM THIS CURSED HELLSITE-

Palace Hallways WIP

my mind blacked out at artificer soap and knight kyle and druid ghost - I also just finished a campaign with my homegroup IRL not too long ago and we’re taking a long break before the next game while our DM preps and this is making me miss playing with them ;-;

Edge Dressing WIP

KATE KATE KATE KATE KATE KATE that’s it that’s the tweet

“She did, did she?” Kate murmured, scratching at Letty’s scalp and smirking as the woman went boneless against her.

yes only natural, i too would also go boneless if laswell was scratching my scalp and giving me a massage mommy? sorry. mommy. sorry? mommy. sorry?

Embroidered Secret WIP

if someone told me a year ago when I wasn’t into regency shows/fics that reading some COD AUs - yes fucking CALL OF DUTY, the military propaganda first person shooter video game - would change my mind - well id be more shocked than if someone flashed some ankle at my victorian pearl clutching ass

also please i love every single trope listed here

141 Studios WIP

“Our sweet soft girl Samantha (plus size rep ftw!) finds her niche quickly as the resident camgirl - creating a new set of films called "Tip of The Tongue", where she (and others) commentate on the scenes being filmed in a behind the scenes way.”

fuck i would read an entire multiseries for this premise alone???

Crew scramble around to clean up the sweat and cum streaked across the couch to reset for another scene.

fun fact - i briefly interned as a PA in college and one of the producers i worked with mentioned offhand that he once rolled up to a set that was cleaning up after a porn shoot and claimed they were rolling away literal barrels of lube 👀

“You the new girl?” His voice was deep, rumbling like stones cascading down a mountain.

NEW GIRL, OLD MAN, BLUE BIRD, CLOWN WITH A BUCKET HAT, I WILL BE ANYTHING FOR YOU PS!SIMON

A Protege’s Trust WIP

The most titillating tag of all..an empty one! lol jk im just messin with ya gemmy but actually yes i don’t see any posts with this tag

Museum Muse WIP

ahem you already know my rabid thoughts on this but noticed this new post re: multiple timelines and tbh do I know what’s going on? absolutely not - do I want to dive into this museum muse multiverse regardless? absolutely yes

Brix WIP

Re: “If it’s a story about learning to be loved again after a series of devastating losses, can that story then end on another loss? (And should the epilogue soften that loss by allowing them some sort of reprieve?)”

YES! i need to be in a certain mood to read angst but GOD WHEN I AM IN THE MOOD DOES IT HIT THE SPOT/FEEL SO CATHARTIC

also re: these comments - “Also, a bit of catharsis for my shitty experience working in the orchard industry.”

“It's less of a love story and more of a healing story. It's also a bit of a middle finger to the orchard that nearly hospitalized me. 🙃 (It's healing not only for the characters lol.)”

i find these types of fics are some of the best ive read when the writers have IRL experiences bleed into their writing - just has a certain je ne sais quoi about em

also i could be knee deep in sewage sludge and if i sensed soap within a 1 mile radius i would throw myself at him, brb busy handforging a trophy for annabeth for having enough willpower to continue working while JOHN SOAP MACATAVISH WHINES ABOUT WANTING TO COP A FEEL

Squeamish Stitches WIP

✨GLITz!!!! ✨fucking love this name

“God, I’d die here a happy man,” he grumbles into your thigh as you adjust your balance.

His hands wrap around your calves, grunting as the treads dig into his shoulders. “No, between your legs.”

Ghost interrupts. “Keep it tactical, Sergeants.”

THE FUCKING BANTER? GHOST COCKBLOCKING GAZ? FUCKIGN SCREAMINNG

Useful Girl WIP

you had me at “we gonna get nast-ay kink-ay” and also got strong “secretary” with maggie gyllenhaal + james spader vibes

also i had to look up ‘brown bottle flu’ as i’ve never heard that term before! ✨i learn somethng new with fanfic daily✨

She felt the breeze as the door opened behind her, the whiff of cigar smoke and cologne causing her to shift in her seat and sit up straighter.

if you’ve ever smelled/heard someone before you saw them it is *quite* the experience

“It's the prickle of the mountain's oncoming storm. It's the flapping of the flag in the howling wind. It's the explosion of lightning hitting a tree, splitting it open, part charred and part living - two states diametrically opposed to each other. It's the sigh of relief when the clouds finally part and the rain pours out. It's the breath of fresh air when the storm dissipates and everything is left clean.

It's yearning so hard for something that it leaves one fundamentally changed when they achieve it.

...I really ought to make moodboards for this fic. 😅”

this was an incredible fucking paragraph to read, fucking poetry right here, also incredibly erotic? though that might just be leftover brainworms in my head from watching shogun and a scene where one of the main charas describes an orgasm as “clouds parting after rain”

Highland Tartans WIP

She reached her hand into his wool, petting him. “He comes from a good line and all, he’s just young.”

MacTavish laughed, sliding his hands to rest on his waist. “Aye, young and dumb. I know the type.” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

PLEASE GOD GEMMA

I CANNOT CHOOSE FAVORITES BUT SPARE A THOUGHT FOR MY FREE TIME AND WORK HOURS WHEN YOU POST MORE OF THESE AND AT LEAST SPREAD THEM OUT SO I CAN KEEP MY JOB AND PAY MY BILLS INSTEAD OF GORGING ON YOUR WRITING

anyway to sum up i am fully convinced the multiverse lives inside of gemma’s brain because goddamn i am convinced once day some god-tier epic space opera multiseries is gonna spring out fully formed like athena from the gemmamind (yes I compared you to zeus, a mythical god, deal with it)

#Friends are friends #I'm floored by this #If I could I'd print it out and keep it handy every day because DAYUM #Madstronaut

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owl-with-a-pen · 2 years ago

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Night Terror anon back at it again.

What if her potential point of no return is when she becomes so detached from her former self and the people she used to care about that she shows up in Brainy’s dream, ready to do to him what she’s been doing to so many other people. Maybe she’s so far gone at this point, lost to madness and sleep deprivation, that she barely knows who he is or what she’s about to do.

It’s the absolute last chance to get her back. If she goes through with it here, Nia Nal is dead and gone. But Brainy never stops fighting for her.

Imagine the two ways this could end. Maybe he finally, finally gets through to her using the very dreams she wants to feed on. He’s dreaming of them, before she turned away from him, and she’s able to remember just for a second what it felt like to have her own happiness. She realizes what she’s about to do to the person who made her happier than anything, and vanishes instantly from his dream without harming him. What she’s been doing hits her for the first time. She breaks down with guilt, with grief for her old self and the many people she’s ruined by stealing their dreams for herself. Maybe there’s a way for her return them and fix things? Or maybe the consequences are permanent and she has to live with that. But either way she cries herself out and for the first time in what could be months or years, she passes out and is able to rest. Maybe Brainy finds her, maybe she seeks him out when she wakes up, or maybe she stays away out of shame.

But alternatively, she does take his dream, and she destroys him in the process just like everyone else. There’s a brief flash of pain as she does so, and she realizes when it’s too late that she should not have done this. Brainy as she knew him is gone. Nia as he knew her is gone. She incorporates the happiness he dreamed of into the fantasy she’s built for herself, but it always feels somewhat empty. Neither of them ever recovers. Night Terror continues to wreak havoc until she either retreats permanently into her fantasy, pretending she’s happy, or one of her old friends finally manages to stop her and she spends the rest of her days in a cell designed to dampen her powers, alone but for her broken mind and the occasion tearful visit from people she no longer recognizes. Maybe she finally gets to sleep with her powers gone, maybe she doesn’t. It doesn’t help either way.

God, anon, your MIND!

I'm blown away by these ideas. I love, love, love the concept that Nia only realises what she's doing when she enters Brainy's dream. It's got something of a poetic nature to it considering Brainy has canonically joined Nia in the dream realm before and I like to think that when they do share dreams, it's when Nia uses her powers to link them so she's allowing Brainy into her dreamscape. It creates this dark parallel that Nia has never actually stepped foot into Brainy's dreams before, it's just not how her powers used to work as Dreamer. For Night Terror, though, it is something she can do as it's an invasive act rather than one granted by consent. It's like the ultimate act of betrayal, and yet Brainy still uses that to his advantage to give Nia the dreams of who she used to be, of the goodness in her heart that might still be there. I could totally see that as her wake up call. It wouldn't heal her or give back everything she's lost, but it puts her in a position where she can finally reach out to the people that love her and will unwaveringly support her so that she can take those first steps towards healing.

On the flip-side though, you know I love me some angst and so that idea of mutual destruction, of Nia breaking down Brainy in a way that she would never forgive herself for, removing his essence in a darkly similar fashion to the inhibitors he was given as a child, oh man... I love your idea that even incorporating what she stole from Brainy just makes the hole inside of her more cavernous. When she's eventually caught and put behind bars, it'd be interesting if she still doesn't sleep at first, because it's more psychological than power-based by that point, but eventually she does fall prey to her own dreams again. Maybe they're as nightmarish as the ones she left with all her victims, or maybe they're just... empty. Like her own heart.

#supergirl #nia nal #dreamer #brainia #brainiac 5 #night terror #anon #my asks #seriously though anon these ideas are incredible!!#thank you for fuelling me 😂

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wizkiddx · 4 years ago

Text

unusable faces

i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)

PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link

Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader

^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)

A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA.

To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:

Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.

Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning

Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set

The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.

Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.

The joys of success hey?

Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.

“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently

“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave.

“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.

“You mean laugh at us?”

“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.

Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.

“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.

“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable.

“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed.

“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend.

“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.

“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially.

“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid; when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be.

“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.

“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”

After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.

At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that.

Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks.

“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)

Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras.

So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man.

“You good?” His answer was predictable.

“I’m so fucking shattered”

Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.

“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”

Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands.

Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other.

So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end.

Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.

“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything.

So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.

“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”

“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away.

Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.

The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph.

“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.

For fear of getting hurt.

So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his.

“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing.

The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.

“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs.

“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.

“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”

“Yeh me… me too”

And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.

What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.

It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.

Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.

Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else.

So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x actress!reader #fluff

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violetnotez · 4 years ago

Text

Bakugo x reader

⤷ Genre: Fluff+small amount of angst

⤷ Word Count: 5307+

⤷ Warnings: Drunk reader, cursing, also reader+Bakugo will be aged up (early 20′s, cause no underage drinking in this house!)

⤷ Synopsis: Bakugo doesn’t have any feeling for you. You’re just one of his shitty friends and that’s it. He’s only picking you up from a bar after your breakup because you drunk called him and not because he’s worried you’ll get hurt. He doesn’t feel his heart pang when you say you want him to drive you to his apartment, not yours. He doesn’t completely turn beet red when he sees you change into his clothes.But, as much as he denies it, Bakugo realizes he loves you when you cry to him drunkenly , saying you wished you had a lover as sweet as him

This fic is for the @bnhabookclub Bingo Event! Here’s my masterlist to see all my work for this event! Also this was actually inspired by @shoutogepi HC of Bakugo and Kirishima taking care of their drunk s/o! I honestly loved this headcannons so much, and they really inspired me to write a more angsty sort of spin on it. Here’s a link to her post (I also explicitly asked her if it was alright to take inspiration from her headcannons, just in case!)

Bingo Slot: Realized Feelings

Bakugo stepped his foot deeper into the gas, the engine in his car roaring as it zoomed through the dark streets.

Damn you and your shitty decisions.

He had been woken up in the dead of the night to his phone ringing annoyingly against his bedside table. Your caller ID of “Cute Shithead” was shining brightly against his face, his finger immediately taking the call.

He had to admit, he was a little annoyed for you calling him so damn early in the morning, but hearing your voice immediately melted any irritation. By the way your words slurred together, you sounded completely wasted. That alone could turn him into a worried frenzy, but the tone of your voice sent ice down his spine.

You sounded so lonely, so defeated, as if you had lost all hope and were giving up.

He rammed his foot again into the gas, following the directions to the club you said you were at as closely as possible over the roar of his engine.

He was just being a decent friend and helping you out, he told himself. There was no other reason why he was helping you...it wasn’t because his heart practically dropped at the sound of your voice, or how he felt his chest tighten when you said “Please come get me Katsuki”

Or that you had called him, not anybody else, to come and get you. It was all platonic-he had to keep telling himself that.

He hastily pulled into the parking lot, his car swerving into a spot a little too haphazardly. He yanked the keys from the vehicle, closing the inky black door with a thud as he looked at the building in front of him.

A bright, Neon green sign lit up the roof, a line of club goers filtering through as they waited for the bouncer to allow them in. It was pretty late in the night-2 am to be exact-so more people were stumbling out of the club than actually going on.

Bakugo quickly began to walk over to the establishment, his body weaving through drunken couples clambering to their cars or taxis. He was searching everywhere, helplessly trying to find your face in every person he saw.

Where the hell were you?

Bakugo turned to his side, looking at the asphalt that lead into the club. There were parking spots right there, all empty, probably for Ubers and Lyfts to come pick up people who had ordered them. THere were a few people sitting on the curb, waiting for their rides as they sat on their phone or blabbered drunkenly to their friends.

But then he spotted a familiar body, their shoulders slump down in exhaustion, their eyes downcast in defeat. He quickly made his way over, knowing exactly who that body belonged to.

“Shit y/n, the hell are you doing here by yourself-“

He quickly bent down, looking at you square in the face.

You gave him a weak smile, your eyes so full of relief and sadness he felt his heart ping from your expression.

He had to admit- you looked like a wreck. Your once meticulously curled hair was frizzy and in shambles from dancing, your makeup splotchy in places and black coating under your eyes.

HIs calloused hands wrapped around your waist, his other arm gently pulling your free hand around his neck for support. He felt like he was moving a ragdoll-you complied with each of his movements, your body resting against his as if you depended on him

“Well, I did have some f-friends… with me…” your murmured out, your voice thick from sleep deprivation and alcohol.

“And the hell are they?”

“-they left a few hours ago…” you slurred,” I said I’d stay… a little longer”

Bakugo began to walk you to his car, the walk more like a stumble as he tried to guide you on your wobbling feet. He felt his insides heat up with an intense flame of rage, licking up and consuming his insides. How the hell could your ‘friends’ just leave you? THis was nothing like you, to be so impulsive that you became incredibly vulnerable in public. Something was seriously wrong with you, something you had to be going through.

“Shitty friends for leaving you like this.” he replied gruffly, making no attempt to hide his obvious anger. “Are you okay? Did anybody try and do anything funny to you?”

He was worried, he had to admit that to himself- you were clearly in a wrong headspace in a pretty sketchy place. Anything could go wrong, and he wanted to make sure that nothing happened.

Not because the idea of you dancing with another guy makes him want to punch a wall.

Or trying to lure you to his apartment made him want to yell and break that imaginary mans jaw, in order to keep you safe in his arms.

Nope-strictly platonic.

You scoffed at the blonde's words, a harsh chuckle spilling out of your chapped lips. “Of course Bakugo, everybody here wants to grope the girl who looks like she’s been crying all day-

“I’m fine-really”

Somehow, even with your slurring words and clouded mind, these words were the first sober syllables you had uttered.

But- if you were fine, you wouldnt be going to a club this late at night. You would have been smart enough to at least stay alert, not completely wasted, and you definitely wouldn't be by yourself. Your werent fine, and Bakugo knew it, because you werent being you.

He was impulsive, irrational, and went with his gut feeling, even if it was a stupid or dangerous idea. You on the other hand, were like his better half: calm yet forceful, a commanding tide to soothe the volcanic eruptions of his anger.

But now you were different, a choppy whirlpool of emotions that were locked away deep inside you, the effects changing your once calm and rational demeanor into something saddened and desperate.

Bakugo gave you a long look, his red eyes slanted as he tried to read what was on your mind.

He stopped your two’s trudging, finally being in front of his car.

A protest was dying to spill from his lips, to retort and fight back the obvious lie you had just uttered. But something in your tired voice made him falter, making him feel more empathy for you than frustration

“Okay then…” he sighed, “let’s get you home,”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

It was unnervingly quiet.

Bakugo had the music off, worried that the thumping bass would aggravate any possible headache you had as you curled up in the seat beside him, your high heeled shoes long forgotten on the floor of his car.

He drove much more smoothly than before, his eyes desperately trying to focus on the road. He wasn't used to this kind of you-he missed your smile, and the way you would joke and laugh with him. Of course he would act like he didn't like it, giving you snarky comments and off handed insults that would only push you even more to joke with him.

Now he felt like he was next to a shell of you- you were there, right next to him, but- You weren't there. Your smile, your spirit, your light- it was being blocked by some darkness inside you.

“Are-are you mad at me Katsuki?”

You finally spoke to him, making Bakuo’s eyes wide and his heart stop in his chest.

Why did you sound so timid?

Bakugo continues to glue his eyes on the road, his voice gruff yet uncertain.

“The hell I’d be mad at you for?”

“I don’t know…” you replied softly, “you just sounded-mad”

Shit- now he felt guilty, making you feel worse than you probably already did. It was just that he was worried, and sometimes his emotions came out quicker than his words. He just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you out of all people could act like this.

“Well, I’m not mad at you-I’m just-“ he sighed, trying to find the words.

“- the hell were you out that late? The club scene isn’t your thing”

You shifted uncomfortably in the seat next to him, cuddling yourself in closer to your body.

“I thought I told you-” you answered sadly, ‘I got dumped”

Bakugo blinked a couple times, the shock vibrating throughout his body. He knew you had a boyfriend, apparently Shindo Yo, the damn pretty boy of another hero agency. You were his closest friend after all, so he dealt with the news as best he could, but Bakugo has never liked the guy. He always chalked it up to him being protective over you as your friend, but the way he used to feel so angry and so frustrated whenever he saw you hold hands or hug made him want to scream. A small amount of happiness filled up his chest by hearing you say you were single, instantly making him feel guilty as he saw how distraught you were.

“The hell-“ he gulped out quickly, “what for?”

“Dont know..” you sighed, your face contorted in a grimace, “he-he said he needed to focus on his career-and that-that I was going to stop him from achieving his goals-”

Bakugo instantly felt anger erupt in his chest, his hands becoming clammy against the leather steering wheel.

“Wait-that dickwad, Shindo Yo, right? The damn extra won't amount to nothing, the hell he-”

He was rambling, the spiteful words spewing from his lips. He just couldn’t understand why your piece of shit of a boyfriend would dump someone as amazingly kind and caring as you, and go as far to say such awful words. It made him incredibly furious, and all he wanted to do was confront your now ex and give him a piece of his mind for causing you to act this way.

He was surprised though to hear your voice interject him, your tone stern yet pleading.

“Bakugo, can we not talk about it? Please?”

He wanted to kick himself for being so inconsiderate, an embarrassed blush creeping into his cheeks.

“Shit-I-okay,yeah”

The car ride continued in silence, Bakugo staring at the road in conflict, you cuddling yourself into a small ball on the leather seat.

It continued for a few minutes, until Bakugo broke the silence by clearing his throat.

“Want me to drop you off at your place?” He asked gruffly, looking at you slightly from the side.

He noticed you shift, turning to look at him with large, pleading eyes.

“Can-can we go to your place instead?” you squeaked out, almost as if worried by his response. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound mean earlier….I just- always feel so safe and warm when I go to your apartment, Katsuki”

Bakugo felt his heart quicken in his chest-you called him “Katsuki”, his name. Something in you saying that made him feel hot from flusteredness, but then you said you felt safe with him...he had never been more thankful for the darkness of night, because he knew his face was completely red.

He gulped, trying to build up the wall around his emotions you were trying to knock down. With each word or truth that spilled from your sleepy, drunken mouth, he found it harder to keep his feelings at bay. He took a deep breath, his clammy hands readjusting on the steering wheel.

You two were just friends.

He didn’t like you like that and you-you probably didn’t either.

He needed to be Bakugo, your best friend, your rock in hard times, not Bakugou, the blushing mess next to you that was concerned with his own feelings.

He clicked the turn signal on his car to the right, taking the route back to his home instead of yours as he sighed.

“-Fine.”

Bakugo pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building, the bumpy street roads now turning smooth as he fit his car through the metal gate and settled into a parking spot near his apartment.

He turned the key of the car, killing the roaring engine as he stepped out of the car, the closing door as a soft thud as he commanded you to “Stay inside”.

Your sluggish head instantly perked at the statement, unable to understand what he had meant by that. But your body felt too tired, mentally and physically, and too weak to even protest. You stayed there, cuddled into the seat as Bakugo opened the door of the passenger seat, his arms outstretched as they tucked themselves under your body.

“Wait what are you-“ you asked sluggish, your eyes barely open as you wrapped your digits around his arms.

“I’m picking you up”

HIs tone was calm and forceful, as if this was a completely normal occurrence between the two of you- which it wasn't.

You instantly blushed at the prospect, excuses already forming on the tip of your tongue.

“You don’t have to, I can-“

“I could barely walk you to car and that was in flat ground,” he retorted back, I’m not gonna walk you up stairs-”

“Just let me do this”

He stated a little more softly, his voice gruff and low as he picked you up off the seat as if you weighed nothing to him. Your hands instantly latched onto his neck finding comfort by burying your head into the crook of his neck.

Shit-why you had to go and be so cute?

His grip around your body tightened, making sure you felt secure as he walked you up the plight of steps to his apartment.

Something about this felt so surreal- your warm body against his, his hands wrapping your thighs, the way your hair felt against his cheek...these were all sensations that left his heart pounding.

All of this seemed to frustrate him as much as it brought him joy-he shouldn't feel any of these tingling sensations around you. He shouldn't feel weightless and giddy, or terrified he'd do the wrong thing around you all the time. It bothered him to know end, and made him feel so frustrated.

But the most frustrating part was the fact you were oblivious- that you had this secret power over him and you didn't even know it.

He finally stepped foot in his apartment, setting you down gently as he ruffled through his pockets for his keys. His hand was still wrapped around your waist, giving you some stability as he opened the door with a slow creak, ushering you inside.

You stepped inside, feeling somewhat out of place- you had been here countless times before: parties, get togethers, the meet up place before you would hang out with the Bakusquad….so why did it feel so strange?

The room felt more intimate in a way-you had never been here without someone else, usually Kirishima.

And youd been here at night, but never this late, and the fact you had asked to sleep over- well, everything just felt so new and raw.

Thankfully Bakugo broke through your rapid thoughts, his vermillion eyes looking down at you with slight worry.

“You good? No needing to throw up or anything?” he asked gruffly.

God he felt so close- you could practically feel his heat radiating into your body still, making your cold digits beg for his touch.

Your cheeks warmed at the thoughts, a small “Mm-mm” and a shake of your head the only thing you could muster to do.

He led you over to his room, passing the small kitchen and bathroom as he did.

“Then you need new clothes- get you out of that clubbing crap”

Your mouth instantly formed into a pout, your eyes looking up at your best friend.

“It's not crap-its pretty”you corrected him, your tone playfully hurt.

“More like tight,” he replied snarkily, “ how do you even move in that thing?’’

You were about to quickly retort back that he should wear the dress and find out, but then a sudden image of Bakugo wearing your skin tight dress at a club made you instantly double over in giggles.

Bakugo gave you a questionable look, his red eyes almost judging your drunken, laughing form.

“I just keep it down with my hands silly,” you said in between giggles, your body flopping onto the plush comforter of his bed. Now you felt a little more at ease, as if the courage of alcohol had kicked into your system yet again.

Bakugo shook his head, his blonde locks swaying at the motion as he quietly said ‘Giggly ass drunk” under his breath. He began to rustle through his closet, trying his best not to stare at your form laying across his bed in such a body accentuating dress.

You hadnt seemed to notice Bakugo's rhetoric or dilemma, a soft smile gracing your lips stiill. Your propped your body up on your elbows, your tousled hair pooling against your skin.

“so what amazing little number are you gonna put me in now?”

“-This,”

You felt cloth instantly hit you square in the face, as if Bakugo had thrown it over his shoulder-most likely on purpose.

Usually you would attack the asshole for doing something like that, but you just felt too tired to even throw an insult back. Your lips pouted out once again, a small whine escaping your throat as you ripped the shirt from your face.

Bakugo grinned slightly at you ,finding your expression adorable as well as funny. He watched you inspect the shirt, the fabric as dark as your dress.

“You would think interning with Best Jeanist would have left some fashion sense in you,” you spewed out, your face clearly distraught by the shirt he had given you.

He rolled his eyes, his grin now turning into a grimace.

Was drunk you really that picky over a shirt?

“That was 5 fucking years ago, and I only interned with him cause he was one of the best,” he tried to defend himself, feeling his cheeks grown warm from your drunken disapproval. But his fiery personality kicked in, his tongue beginning to stutter over his words. “- just throw the goddamn shirt on before I let you sleep in that shit you call a dress”

“Or I could sleep in my underwear, there's other alternatives,”

your words flew out of your mouth faster than you could stop them, a triumphant grin on your face as you saw how beet red Bakugo became.

A giggle escaped from your lips, the sound ringing softly against his ears.

“Dont worry Katsuki, Ill wear the clothes,” you gave him a soft smile, cuddling the clothing to your chest.

He blinked a few times, trying to get his heart to settle back into a steady rhythm.

This wasn't real.

You didn't make him nervous.

You were just his best friend- you being in his room, in a pretty dress, making flirty remarks didn't affect him.

You were drunk-you weren't yourself right now- so why did he feel so hopeful? And for what?

He quickly spun on his heel, turning around before you could catch the glowing in his cheeks.

“Whatever-just call me if you need help” he threw over his shoulder, his hands closing his bedroom food with a loud slam.

Bakugo sat himself on the couch in his living room, his hands resting on his face, his elbow connected to his legs.

The hell was going on with him?

As he was brooding over his conflicted emotions, he heard the door of his room click open, and it seemed all his feeble attempts to slow down his heart went out the window.

There you were, clad in his black tshirt, the fabric pooling around your thighs and making your arms look tiny in the flowing fabric. You must have been wearing the shorts worn from under your dress, but still- he got a full view of your beautifully plush thighs, making heat rise to his cheeks.

Strange sensations filled his stomach, that tingling butterfly sensations filling his stomach-

The hell was wrong with him?

“For your clothes being so bland, they are pretty comfy…” you smiled up at him, his heart quickening at the small gesture.

You walked your way over the couch, resting your body opposite him, giving ample space between the two of you as you sighed in content.

“I could go to sleep right now”

Bakugo snorted, his arms wrapping against his chest as the heat continued to rise in his cheeks.

“The hell your not-”

You instantly pushed yourself up, cocking your head at Bakugou in confusion.

He had to admit it to himself- your looked-cute-, sitting there, your legs crossed with his shirt wrapped around your frame, your eyes wide and hair a mess.

He could get used to seeing you like this-

But shit he couldn't-didnt-think like that. You were his friend, nothing more.

“What do ya mean?” you asked “You were complaining about me two minutes ago, wouldn't you want me to go to sleep?”

He gave a small chuckle, his eyes looking down at the floor.

“Sure but-I'm not letting you go to sleep with all that shit on your face-”

Your hands instantly went to touch your face, your digit scrubbing against the skin.

“Huh?-Oh”

You looked down, and there on your hand was your foundation, a tiny bit too dark as it had mingled with your bronzer and highlighter, black running against your skin like tire streaks on a road.

How did you not even feel that was on your face? How drunk were you?

The thought of you being so intoxicated you forgot you had makeup on seemed like the funniest thing ever, giggles dribbling out of your lips.

“Oh my god, I forgot!” you laughed, chuckles wracking through your body.

Bakugo simply shook his head, unable to contain a smirk from gracing his lips. He got up slowly, walking over to your side of the couch to offer you his hand.

“Alright cmon-you giggly ass drunk,” he smirked, his lungs tightening as you gave him a smile of your own, your smaller hand slowly taking hold in his larger one.

You leaned into his body, already accustomed to him being your support- he would at least admit it right now...you were cute

He walked you over to his bathroom, his digit flicking on the light switch.

It was a little small, with enough room to hold two people inside. He gently pressed you against the wood of the cabinet, his hands grabbing your waist as he hoisted you on to the counter.

Any other day you would be embarrassed by this sudden closeness with your best friend but something about this felt bitter sweet. It had been so long it seemed like since someone had truly cared for you, being there by your side and making sure you were okay. It felt comforting to have Bakugou near you, but you knew this wouldnt last. You were drunk and feeling broken-is was just his obligation as your friend to get you through the night. Once you sobered up, itd be back to the way things were-bitterly lonely.

As you muddled in your emotions, your feet dangling against the cabinets, Bakugo was rummaging through in the cabinet next to you, emerging with a bottle of makeup remover.

You cocked your head at the bottle, the liquid inside an artificial yet soothing blue.

Why did he have that?

Bakugo stared down at the bottle in his hand, his red eyes quickly glancing at the writing on the side and setting it down on the counter, now rummaging for a cloth.

“This shit should work-”

Your hand grabbed the bottle, now inspecting it in curiosity.

“When did you get this?”

“Remember last time you came over,” he asked over his shoulder,” when the power went out in your apartment and you said you had to do your makeup?”

You simply nodded your head-you remembered that day. You had planned to go and watch a movie with your boyfriend-ex, and the screening was at exactly 12 am since it was premiering. You had wanted to look at least a little decent, but fate had gone against you and destroyed that plan halfway into putting on your makeup. So you had of coursed called Bakugo, who grumpily obliged to let you use his apartment.

Bakugo’s hands gently took the bottle from yours, his hot skin brushing against yours as he applied the liquid to the cloth. His frame fit snugly in between your legs, your inner thighs brushing against the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Well, You left it-”

He simply stated, everything in his being trying to keep his tone leveled as he began to wipe your skin clean of the events from the night.

You had never seen Bakugo be so gentle- he was taking his time, focusing on one small area and then moving onto the next. His strokes were even and light as air, not digging into your skin or forceful in any way.

“And- and you kept it?” you gulped out, your eyes searching his own vermillion ones.

Bakugo was scared, terrified even-he didnt want to look you in your eyes.

Would he do something he regretted if he did?

He was trying to control himself, to fight everything in him all night to not let you catch on to him, to not let you or himself see his true emotions...he was getting too tired to fight, and he was scared that he’d let something slip that he didnt even know about himself yet.

“Well yeah, I wasn't just going to throw it away,” he answered,” I figured you'd come and get it,”

He paused, his hand faltering against your skin for the smallest second. Maybe-it wouldn't hurt to say something...you were drunk after all, you wouldn't remember most of tonight probably….

“-also,” he gulped out, his heart beating in his chest, “ Its nice to have reminder of you here too,”

Your eyes instantly widened, the wind knocked out of your chest, constricting almost in pain.

Why did that make you feel so-so fluttery inside?

And why did it hurt so much?

Maybe because it almost sounded like-Bakugou may care for you? More than just a friendly way?

No-it couldn't….he was your best friend….but god, it felt so good to be cared for, to actually feel wanted-

And of course had to be by someone you knew you never had a chance with.

Your shoulders began to shake, realizing how much you must have screwed up-you lost your boyfriend, was humiliated by him, and then humiliated your own self by losing control.

Bakugo was the only one you had truly could count on-he was the one person you called, and he had shown up to get you. He had tried his best to keep you comfortable, went out of his way to keep you safe, his best to keep you happy…

How long had it been since someone had been this caring to you?

Your shoulders began to shake, the weight of everything crashing down on you, tears spilling across your cheeks like rain droplets outside a car window.

How did everything turn out so wrong?

Bakugo instantly noticed your change, his body instantly panicked and worried.

“Shit-y/n, you okay? Whats wrong?” he asked, his tone desperate as he set the cloth down and wrapped his hands around your forearms, securing you as wave after wave of tears racked your body.

He wrapped you into a slow hug, his warm palms placed firmly against your back as you instantly wrapped your arms around his neck.

He felt so warm and safe, your noise buried into the soothingly sweet smell that was him.

“Katsuki I-I-Im sorry, I didnt mean to-” you blubbered out, trying your best to apologize over your heightened emotions.

Bakugo had no idea what to do- was this just something you did when drunk? He had no idea why you had started crying, and he hoped it wasn't something he did- but telling by how in pain you looked and how quickly you welcomed his embrace, this was something he didnt do and couldn't fix-at least not quickly.

He continued to hold you tightly, his hands beginning to become clammy against your back.

“Dont say sorry-Your fine, just- tell me whats wrong,”

He felt your hands ball his shirt in your fists, your chin digging deeper into his skin.

“I wish I could find a guy as great as you,”

Shit.

Bakugo’s face turned beet red, his arms stiffening at your words- when he asked what was wrong, he didnt mean something like that.

But the truth comes out when you're drunk, and Bakugo fully believed in this saying…

Did that mean-you liked him?

He couldn't deny it now- it was too hard and everything was against him at this point.

Just the small prospect of being your lover made Bakugo’s heart quicken, the little sentence you just uttered destroying the wall he had kept to protect himself from the truth.

He liked you.

Alot actually.

He scoffed, trying his best to remain calm as he cradled you in his arms.

“Im not as great as you think I am,”

He felt you cuddle yourself even deeper into his neck, your hair tickling his jawline.

You seemed to be calming down as Bakugo had had a mental crisis….your sobs were now sniffles, and you werent breathing as hard. But you still were cuddled deep into his body, as if using him to block yourself from the outside world.

“No you are, you really are…”you sighed quietly, “ even if you are an ass sometimes, you are very kind and sweet-

“I just wish I could date someone like you,”

Shit.

How could he even say anything after that?

How was even able to respond?

He wouldn't-Bakugo decided to hold you quietly, as if you never said anything...but those words were echoing inside his head.

God- you could date him in a heartbeat. But, reality kicked into Bakugou- you were drunk, and just got dumped. You were just starved of touch and affection from that.

There was no way sober you would have said something so revealing as this- you saw him as his best friend, nothing more and nothing less of that. You wouldn't jeopardize your relationship by saying something that could mean the end of your friendship.

Bakugo felt the tightness of your body loosen, your breathing now regular, something so different from a few minutes ago.

“Y/n?” he asked quietly, almost timidly as he waited for a response.

Nothing.

Bakugo sighed, a small, tired smile playing on his lips

“You fell asleep huh?”

Bakugo playfully rolled his eyes as your quiet demeanor spoke the truth for him.

His hands found themselves placed against your back, wrapping against your body once again so that your legs were around his waist, his arm supporting you as he carried you back to his room.

Maybe in the morning you would remember this...maybe not. He was conflicted- a part of him hope you didn't, so your relationship could resume as normal, but- something in him hoped you remembered. And hoped you wanted to talk more about it- because if you felt the same way and meant it, he wouldn't mind to see if you two could be more than just friends.

He pecked a look at your sleeping form, your smushed face against his shoulder making his heart fill with warmth.

“Shit-if only you knew...I would date you-

“even if your a giggly ass drunk,”

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sheikfangirl · 9 months ago

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Gloom nightmares...

Link is totally sleep-deprived on his Tears of the Kingdom quest.

He NEVER rests. But despite all his efforts, it is inevitable: Link collapses and sleep wins over him... and when that happens, Link has the most vile and repulsive nightmares!! Puppet Zelda and her cruelty is always there, ready to mock and torture him.

PS. Nintendo could've gone waaaaaaaay worse with Puppet Zelda if you ask me

PS 2 If you are wondering, yeah, this is a shameless homage to that iconic Evil Dead 2 scene. Groovy! 😊

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nicklloydnow · 2 years ago

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“Man, the Insomniac Animal

Whoever said that sleep is the equivalent of hope had a penetrating intuition of the frightening importance not only of sleep but also of insomnia! The importance of insomnia is so colossal that I am tempted to define man as the animal who cannot sleep. Why call him a rational animal when other animals are equally reasonable? But there is not another animal in the entire creation that wants to sleep yet cannot. Sleep is forgetfulness: life's drama, its complications and obsessions vanish completely, and even awakening is a new beginning, a new hope. Life thus maintains a pleasant discontinuity, the illusion of permanent regeneration. Insomnia, on the other hand, gives birth to a feeling of irrevocable sadness, despair, and agony. The healthy man - the animal - only dabbles in insomnia: he knows nothing of those who would give a kingdom for an hour of unconscious sleep, those as terrified by the sight of a bed as they would be of a torture rack. There is a close link between insomnia and despair. The loss of hope comes with the loss of sleep. The difference between paradise and hell: you can always sleep in paradise, never in hell. God punished man by taking away sleep and giving him knowledge. Isn't deprivation of sleep one of the most cruel tortures practiced in prisons? Madmen suffer a lot from insomnia; hence their depressions, their disgust with life, and their suicidal impulses. Isn't the sensation, typical of wakeful hallucinations, of diving into an abyss, a form of madness? Those who commit suicide by throwing themselves from bridges into rivers or from high rooftops onto pavements must be motivated by a blind desire to fall and the dizzying attraction of abysmal depths.

My soul is chaos, how can it be at all? There is everything in me; search and you will find out. I am a fossil dating from the beginning of the world: not all of its elements have completely crystallized, and initial chaos still shows through. I am absolute contradiction, climax of antinomies, the last limit of tension: in me anything is possible, for I am he who at the supreme moment, in front of absolute nothingness, will laugh.”

#cioran #emil cioran #on #the heights of despair #despair #insomnia #suicide #nothingness #books #bookshelf #library #camus #albert camus #philosophy #pessimism #existentialism

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lovee-infected · 4 years ago

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Macaroon anon I love you and how can I resist writing for such a great idea? I really wanted this piece to take place as Ciel was stuck in twst in my previous au but since I mentioned dorm leaders there it couldn't be really done...Rip

A twisted path ✨

~ Black butler x twisted wonderland ~

Feat : Mey-Rin , Bard & Finnian

Poor trio stay away in shock of not only his unexpectedly loud shout but also...eh...his appearance . Are they wrong or does this guy really look similar to master Ciel...?

Coming conscious still with his eyes closed , he hears some sounds around him:" He dead ?-""No I don't think he is, his chest is still moving" "Anyway what's this body doing hear at Phantomhive's mansion? If he's been stabbed or something it's going to be troublesome," "Na I guess this dude's just been really drunk y'all. Also...what's with the clothes ? Could it be that he's somewhat of an actor from nearby theaters ?" "Aye? Since when are the designs this messed up...- I guess we'd better get rid of it before mister Sebastian returns, maybe burry hi-"

Riddle freaks out as he hears this idiots wanting to burry him alive and immediately wakes up screaming at them to stay away.

Riddle on the other hand gazes upon what he just faced: a red haired haired maiden wearing a pair of glasses, a yellow haired boy with green pupils and a rather buff man with a toothpick in his mouth staring at him. " Ah- He a'live ! Man ya gotcha be more careful with drinking," the buff man chuckles. Riddle suddenly feels highly unsafe: Who are these people? And where am I? He's read NRC's maps enough to know that such a building is surely not a part of it , come along it's weird people. Was he kidnapped while asleep...?He pulls up his staff and starts threatening them with it , wanting them to immediately introduce themselves and explain what he was doing here- wherever it was-

Finnian tries to calm him down with a soft smile and a friendly attitude, but Riddle is strong at his point: He wants answers.

When he sees them all trying to calm him down with no explanations he gets mad : "OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!"

...What ? Wait-maybe try again:"Off with your-Heads!" ...Why isn't it working? Riddle stays still, the magic collars have to be around their neck but- they are not...?? There must've been a mistake: " Off with your heads - Off with your HEADS - OFF WITH YOUR HEADS DAMN IT-"

Mey-Rin, Finnian and Bard stare at their angry guest shouting nonsense and getting as red as a tomato, what is wrong with this guy..?

Riddle is furious and confused , what's the matter ? Is his magic blocked the same as that time Beans day? He doesn't know , and he doesn't like it

Riddle starts shouting at them asking what they've done to his magic and the poor guys just go...Huh ? Riddle keeps on getting redder and redder as if he's about to explode . He starts threatening them from reporting them to the head master to giving them to the official policies for kidnapping and neglecting his picture

Finnian then decides that maybe it's better to leave him to mister Sebastian and so : Picking up a huge branch and a striking it to his head , savage

Riddle passes out immediately whoops- maybe Finnian should have been softer-

They stay there gazing upon their... masterpiece . Finnian might have even broken his skull - Good god , what should they do now ? They must wait until mister Sebastian arrives ; But where is he now ?

Feat : Suma & Agni

"Pssssssst- Agniii...I guess he finally woke u-" " M- my prince , y-you sure that it was a good idea too bring a total stranger out of nowhere to our home ? I'd greatly appreciate it if you be more ca-"

Argh...what is with all noises around him ? He's told Ruggie a million times not to let anyone in his room whole he's taking a nap even if it's gonna be the grim reaper ; what are these brats doing here?

Leona rambles under lips and with a push he's awake : " Oi , you'd better know that I don't like having my naps ruined,"

Suma gasps at the sight of him being finally awake and tries to offer his unwanted guest a welcome hug which Leona rejects- Poor Suma

Leona isn't yet realizing what actually is going on , from not knowing that this isn't his room to the fact that he's now at more than 100 years ago in a whole different world ; ironic

Leona orders them to take this annoying conversation out of his room just to face Agni's locked expression : "Your room...?"

Taking a better look , Leona finally gets that this probably isn't his room and these people surely aren't from NRC

Sounds get echoed through his brain and he feels a small ache inside it . He rubs his head ...why does everything feel so strange ? Something is different ... could it be that he's still sleepy or..? Wait a second - Why can't he shake his tail ?

He immediately looks back to see if he's sit on his own tail but faces a terrifying scene : There is no tail . Is it cut off ????

and a newer fact flashes his brain : There are no ears either . But then how can he still here the sounds ? "P-please don't be", he begs . His hands shake as he brings them up to touch both sides of his head ; wishing not to find what he is looking for . And they are ! Human ears !A mild shiver is sent down his neck and he rushes to the mirror on the other side of the room just to face this nightmare with his own two eyes

He stares at the mirror with his eyes wide open and mouth as if he is going to shout . No...

Oh...nevermind . He has to calm down ; it's nothing but another fancy dream . He'll soon wake up and these will be all gone . Leona tries closing his eyes and cursing , wanting to wake up to sanity when he opens them again

Surprise : Nothing's changes . Two crappy brats still staring at him . Agni is now a bit suspicious but Suma on the other hand is really motivated : " Ahh~! Sorry if it's strange to sleep in the streets and wake up in bed- I just saw you laying there in a death like slumber and couldn't help but to bring you along ! Also , haven't we met before ? I'm pretty sure that I've seen your face somewhere before... Don't you happen to be from India ? "

Agni is really stressed out and keeps warning the young boy : " My prince ! He's now all conscious and fine , then I'd lead him out of he-"

"Prince , huh ?" Leona wasn't ever really interested in visiting ally kingdoms back at his home town so he barely got to meet any other princes , hm but to think that this cherishing child is actually a prince...man , the world has really changed

But he has no time for such games now , he has to find Ruggie or anyone else who may lead him out this insanity and return him his ears and tail

He asks for where he is - else than Suma's mansion - and the answer doesn't really do any help either . Where on the bloody hell is London ? And if these people found him laying in the streets when the heck did he even get here ? Well , doesn't really matter now , but where is NRC ?

Suma and Agni probably don't know where NRC is and Dire Crowley ? Suma wonders if this guy was the one who fooled him to buy a sick elephant which died a week after in india , but Agni is sure that neither him nor his prince have ever met a single soul named this

Leona is getting more and more pissed off wasting time chatting with these idiots so he takes his way out , ignoring Suma's begs for him to stay for lunch at least

He freezes just at the second he opens the exit doors and gazes upon the streets : Horses? carriages ? 19th century's clothing ? How long have these people been stuck in this lack of technology?

He feels like he now really needs to make a phone call but searching his pockets he finds both of them empty...those brats stole my-

He was close to getting hit by a carriage when someone shouts at him with a : " OUT OF WAY YOU SON OF A-"

He is now ready to get in a fight but a sound cuts him off : " LEONAAAA HELLP-!!!!!!" , this extremely annoying sound...what the heck is he doing here and : WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL HAS HE DONE NOW !!!????

Feat : Lau & Ran-Mao

Business tip nu 1 : Always keep calm , even if you end up losing all your magic powers in the surface without the possibility of returning to your original form or knowing where in the damn world you are : K-e-e-p-c-a-l-m

Thankfully , Azul's dope nature avoids him from going crazy during his stay in this...non-Twisted wonderland world

He had heard of theories explaining the possibility of other world's existence ; countless ones indeed . But to end up in one of them without any preparations ? He wasn't planning on that

Well nevermind , that cannot be helped now . let's look for a better way

Lack of facility , cultural deprivation and severe corruption ; is this how humans are ? No wonder the sea witch called them Poor unfortunate souls...

Enough with these people , he must now ignore all other disadvantages and take a look into beneficial sides of it...If he has ended up here , in this world and into this spot of the city there must be something linked to magic nearby ; even if he's surrounded by all these foolish people who haven't ever even seen real magic by their own eyes

Just as he's looking around , something catches his attention : a strange smell . Thanks to his family he's pretty good at following smells to their source and knowing what exactly they are : it's the pungent smell of Opium

He follows the smoke to its source and arrives to a bunch of stares going underground . A board is place next to the stares with something written on it : Opium Den

Azul isn't one to believe in superstitions but he is sometimes interested to take ambitious steps ; life sometimes brings you worthy surprises

Entering the shop , someone slightly grabs his arm . He turns his head to face a young, beautiful lady pulling his sleeve softly , eyes empty of any emotions . Without saying a word , Ran-Mao grabs his hat and coat and Azul thanks her , seems like he took the right path

His vision got a bit blurred as must of the air is filled with smoke , not that he isn't used to such atmospheres

" Why welcome to my place , sir . How may we service you today~ ? " a sound says from other side of the room . Azul turns back to face the source of all these smoke holding that young lady from before close , could she be her right arm woman or something ? She seems pretty obedient for one , which is nice

Azul introduces himself and takes a seat . He isn't going to get to his main point at the very first seconds ; he needs to make sure that he's come to the right person . He introduces himself as a businessman from a far away city , came to explore more of business tactics here in London . He offers Lau a small chat toward that , wanting him to give him more information on business if possible and return , he'd be given similar information about Azul's home town

While being considerably great at it , Lau isn't really interested in wasting time talking about business , all he ever cares in some sort of entertainment in whatever he does . Still , he agrees of playing this fake role for a short time . Although he knows that Azul isn't here for this either...

A few minutes pass and they both know that Azul doesn't really care to know how much a pork costs and either is Lau , so takes a serious step himself : " I see you're a man of business , Mr . Azul . I wonder what I you may be able to offer me in return ," Azul clarifies that he would get interesting information if he gives Azul good ones ; everything is clear and equal . "Then , I'm afraid that I've got not much to offer ," Lau sighs , but a small smirks appears of his lips : "But what would you say about some tea ? And maybe a small talk ? "

Lau isn't like others out there and that's pretty recognizable to Azul , but it doesn't make him the right person to trust either . He is continuing this conversation in hope of Lau leading him to the right person he is looking for , someone worthy of a greater contract . Lau lets out a sad sigh feeling sorry that he can't do much help , but he knows that who may do : A well-known friend , serving years working as a right arm man . Talented , well cultured , big on all issues including business : "I'm sure that you'll like him ,"

Well perhaps this thing's starting to work out for him : " Then by all means , lead me to this mister you speak of , Mr. Lau~" "With all pleasure . Bring him his coat and hat , sister " , Lau orders . Pleasure is always his first priority , but nothing would ever break rules of a contract ; He gives , he receives . Even taking him to Sebastian is counted but , he's already thought of that . This young man seems quite entertaining and when he first stepped into his shop Lau was expecting him , a spacial guest

Lau doesn't really care about superstitions , but still enjoys his ambitious steps . This guy had came to him just as expected and now , something about him tells Lau that getting him to Sebastian will bring him as well newer faces to meet...what an entertaining day it would be

Feat : Tanaka

Jamil is... about to lose his mind . Caught in a whole other world without a meaningful explanation of how he ended up here or why . Magic doesn't work and there is no certain way to scape this situation and make a return to NRC . But the worst thing about it remained certain : He is caught with Kalim

Why in the bloody hell does he always have to be hooked up with Kalim ? Parents forced him into it at childhood , headmaster orders to it at school and now , the world suddenly decides to abandon him together with Kalim ? If it's joke , that's a pretty lame one . Why does he have to live in the shadows of Kalim being the unworthy dorm leader ?

Now lost in the streets , not knowing where to go or who to contact , what a wonderful way to start a day

Kalim isn't liking it at all : dirty streets , loud and short tempered people , street fight and drunk men everywhere , the smell of death filling the air , this is horrible . Kalim is well aware of poverty and deprivation lasting for so long and even remaining until the very present day , but traveling back in time and space to face one of the most terrifying levels of it just isn't his thing . He feels sorry and odd at the same time : Is this how life behind of the walls of his royal castle looked like ? He wishes he could help it . He probably could if he was any linked to NRC right now

He keeps on telling Jamil how poor they look and wonder if there is a way to help...The world Kalim knows has elegant and colorful nights and days but this world...was all caught in a dead gray mist

Jamil doesn't say a word because he doesn't want to listen , Kalim can keep on daydreaming but he has to find a way back a.s.a.p . They can't leave Scarabia just on their own and everyone (including Kalim's Dad) must be really stressed out by now . He continues to look , but there isn't really anything helpful around them . People yelling at each other and smoking the shit out of themselves . Young ladies flirting as young men offer them a carriage ride and tourists staring at each and every building like they hadn't ever seen a place to live inside as if they've been living in a cave so far , huh

Jamil can no longer take it next to Kalim and eventually goes feral : " WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP !!?" He has no control over his words now , he's nervous , furious and freaked out . If he were to compare his mood to something similar he'd say the time he overblotted , just that he had his magic back then

Now Kalim as well gets into a fight with him . What the hell does this have to do with him ? Jamil has to calm down and be realistic unless they'll never find a way out ! Jamil states that if he grew up just enough to realize how terrible their current situation is , he would've had something better to do than showing mercy over some bunches of street rats

The two of them keep on arguing until someone cuts them of : " Hohoho young men ! What's with all these loud sounds ?"

They stop and turn back to face the source of this old , chill voice . Facing a tall , old man dressed in all black clothes which high-leveled servants would wear and a monocle , giving them a soft , calm smile

" Aa- nevermind grandps ! It wasn't like it seemed we were just talking ! Right Jamily ? " he says , putting a hand on Jamil's shoulder and giving a big , wide smile . "H-hey... don't call me that..." , Jamil doesn't like Kalim acting this chill ; but it is embarrassing to see that they actually called attention

"Hoho , better . Now tell me young men , could it be that you have a trouble ? You look awfully down ," Tanaka asks ; sounding just like a grandfather guiding his grandchildren

Kalim takes a look at Jamil , wondering if it's right to do what he's thinking of and Jamil in return , nods as a yes " Well sir , there you see we actually don't belong here yet to another-" Jamil cuts him off before he could mess the whole thing up : " -Another state , indeed ! We came here for some sort of a business trip and were supposed to be on our way back home by now but sadly , ran into thieves . Our families must be really worried for now and I doubt them being sure of us being hooked up here . We lost everything and have no way to contact anyone we know... only if someone nice enough could be found to help us with it right now ," Jamil dropped his head , trying to act as natural as possible . Kalim wants to remind him that this isn't right to lie someone who is trying to help them yet he wonders if he should let Jamil take care of this now , after all he was much of a worthier leader than him to be honest...

" That's so sad to hear dear boy , I'm sure that young master as well would've been really frustrated if he were here ," Tanaka replies . Oh ? Young master ? Jamil is now interested . Wherever this man came from , it can't be somewhere cheap , Jamil could tell . Leading them to a mightier source would be a better thing than just laying in the streets waiting for some miracle to save them right ? " Young master , you say ? " Kalim asks . " On the second thought , how about me introducing you to my master ? You're not much older than him I suppose , he as well needs to have more friends like you good men ," Tanaka says with a sweet smile . " That'll be so nice of you um , Mr...? " Jamil asks " Tanaka is fine young boys . And you? " " Jamil Viper ," " Kalim al Asim ! Glad to meet you Tanaka sir ! " Kalim says , bringing his hand for Tanaka to shake . Tanaka shakes hands with both of them and Jamil decides to make the process a bit faster : " I look forward to meeting this young master you say , Mr. Tanaka . It's always great to meet more men of culture ," Jamil sneakers . " Then by all means , follow me young men ," Tanaka says . With a sound of pop and some smoke , the tall man shrinks into a chibi version : " Ho , ho , ho ," " What the-!!!" Kalim panicks , no magic and yet this dude can shrink all of a sudden huh ?

" Ho ho," chibi Tanaka says before turning back and going to another direction . " I guess we should follow him," Jamil says . Kalim agrees and then , they're both following the chibi old man to the Phantomhive's mansion . Unaware of the two eyes watching them all this time : " Hihihi ~ they're quite interesting ,"

Feat : Grell Sutcliff & Ronald Knox

"Come oooon Ronald~ Shake your lazy ass and bring her along already..." " Oi senpai , that's mean ! This one's quite heavy-" "JUST SHUT UP AND DO THAT ! Don't you know it's rude to question ladies too much ? " " F-fine then , but at least give me a hand ! Have you even checked if she's dead !? " Heavy ? Dead ? She...? Vil isn't born to be disrespected like this . AND NOT A SINGLE SOUL GETS TO PULL HIM BY LEG WHEN HE'S ASLEEP

Vil immediately starts shouting at the Blondie , threating him that he'll regret it if he doesn't let go of him now . Ronald and Grell almost have a heart attack at Vil's chicken like screech which makes them jump

Vil snads up and glares at the two shinigamis : A really ugly female like one all dressed in red and a small blondie brat which looks like...eh..Azul ? Well nevermind ; doesn't matter now

What should he begin with ? Where he is ? Who these potatoes are and how they didn't recognize him being the leader of Pomefiore ? How perky they were to move him while asleep like this and ruin fabric of his overly expensive unforms ? Too many things to do

" Ah you're too loud ! My ears...Such an unexpected shout to hear from a man this hot I'd say..." Grell giggles . Vil's eyes widen , well of course he is beautiful but to be praised like that ? Ew , this is more of a insult ...

Vil decides to ignore Grell and get to the main point : Who they were and what they wanted . Grell smirks before preparing to give a 5 hour long opera show of shinigamis' romance but Ronald locks him on that point : They are shinigamis , they collect souls of the death , they had grabbed Vil because he looked a bit like the woman they were just going to collect yet didn't pay enough of attention to notice that they made a mistake , so they can all leave since they've got nothing to do with each other

Just before Ronald could get away Vil grabs him by collar , asking where they've brought him to . Grell clears that they just moved him by 30-40 meters from where they found him so it can't be really counted as bringing him to somewhere . Vil refuses to believe , wherever he is , it's way further than Pomefiore dorm or even NRC's accessable area ; that can't be . Vil threatens them one more time : " You refuse to tell , you'll end up dealing with the headmaster ," Grell and Ronald probably don't know who the headmaster is but Grell tries to take advantage : "Aaa? Is he one into punishing type ?" Vil is slowly getting annoyed by how weird this red one sounds to him ; To be honest he acts like an impatient porn star or something...

That's it , he's calling Crowley but uh , where is his phone ? Did he lose it ? Impossible . He'll never forget such an important thing to bring along ... Did these brats dare to steal his pockets....!? Vil asks them to give his phone and wallet back : now " Sir , you may like to know that human money brings no good for us and also , I'm afraid that I don't really know what you may mean by phone? " Ronald mumbles (Remember that phone isn't yet invited at their time ). Why don't this guy just let them go take care of their business ?

Vil hates it when people dare opposing him and doesn't ever take that lightly...who do these two think they are ? " Where is Night Raven College , answer or you'll face unpleasant consequences..." Is Vil challenging Grell ? Then Grell's more than ready to see what this human may have up his slave to speak to a shinigami like this : " And what may the consequences be...?" Vil gets tired , a small spell and this red ass bitch would be nothing but a toad , " I tried to warn you , you should've listened..."

Ahem , hello ? Magic ? Why isn't it working ? " Pffffffftttt- Lmao are you high or something man ? You just woke up !You'll be a great actor though I swear- You can drown in all that nonsense ," Grell laughs . " Well then hottie , I'm afraid we've got to go , see you when it's your time ~ " Grell turns to leave but Vil grabs him by collar . No one is leaving until they explain what the actual heck is going on : this place , the magic , everything

Grell on the other hand enjoyed flirting , but can't take being acted to like this . He pushes Vil back and gives him a psychotic smile , bringing up his chainsaw : " Wouldn't it be amazing if I cut those rushy tongue of yours at once ? fewer words , more of a male charm ," "Oh ?" magic may not work here , but they're not all Vil has got , he can still give this bitch guy a lesson without them : " Oi you two , this isn't really gonna workout-" Ronald mumbles but it's too late now -

Feat : Undertaker

At least he wakes up to a more suitable scene , or it seems so - His body couldn't move freely inside of this cage-like space . Is this a cuffin...? He has experience with them from his freshman year but to end up in one of them again ? Could it be that Crowley is planning on another fancy event like their first time ? Boy , he didn't like it anyway . He knocks the door trying to open it but if seems too heavy to be moved . Damnit- , he hears footsteps from the outside : " Someone there ? Why can't I open this ??" A sudden screech from out and the door slides open : " Ah thank yoUWAHAAAA- !!" Idia screams at the sight of the creepy stranger's smile at him ; he wasn't expecting this . Also , this place doesn't look like the mirror hall ? Who is this guy and where is this place ??

" Hihihi you weren't that dead I see , why waking up so soon though~ ?" , Undertaker giggles in his playful tone . Idia needs too many things to be explained to him but he just doesn't have the time , Crewel will burn him in acid if he gets any late for his class again and he doesn't care how weird his current situation is , he has to go

He gets out of the coffin and rushes to the door but Undertaker stops him there telling him not to show up out there so carelessly , which clearly confuses Idia . " Your hair...It is quite fascinating that curses remain strong even as magic gets blocked..." Undertaker adds . Idia is used to people judging him for his family misfortune but this one seemed quite...odd . He decides to ignore it and leave

" ~ Okies then I warned you , but you'll end up needing a real cuffin in a few minutes pwahahaaa-" , Undertaker burts into laughter and Idia leaves

" creepy ass old ma-" , Idia nags slowly before freezing as someone screams really-loudly right into his ears " HAIR ON FIRE , HIS HAIR IS ON FIRE !!" Before Idia can notice what is going on he's gained tens of gazes to himself , why are these guys all dressed so strangely...

" M-mummy is that a monster ? I'm scared..." " Stay away from our children you hellish creature ! " Idia freezes , critiques coming one after one : Demon , monster , Satan , Death . One option left : Run

Idia now has to run for his life , this world just isn't his thing : not at all . Even if it weren't because of being chased by a group of angry humans , do you think that he could last for even one day in this old fashioned zone ? No technology , no phones , no robots , no gummy bears , no wifi- He'd read about how different the world was before the invention of media and couldn't explain how thankful he was to never have to handle a second in the past world because he wouldn't last there for more than an hour- well he wasn't right about never ending up there but , he was 100% right about not lasting for more than an hour

Now there , he is running like he never has , begging his feet to help him this time out of any other time . Angry people screaming and bringing fire and weapons to destroy the evil

He tries to contact any possible source for help but : No magic - no internet . RIP Idia

Meanwhile Undertaker is chilling at his shop , his mind running over the cursed boy and now listening to the sound of the frightened people because of him , how pathetic , If only he had agreed to hide his hair through a safer way...sigh he should have listened to advises coming from someone who has been living within humans for years by hiding his identity as a shinigami as as his eyes... " My my , humans aren't the only fragile creatures I see..." creation can seem disturbing to him sometimes , and that's the best part with it

Back to Idia , he is slowly running out of breath . Well maybe this is the point where he has to give up ? He has long lived as a loser , bastard , procrastinator and wasted almost each and every second of his life ; well perhaps except Ortho , that was a nice work of him . Wish he was here too say goodbye . He isn't sure if his prayers would be accepted or not but it won't hurt trying : " Good gods who're told to be somewhere up there , I know that I wasn't best that I could be and I won't try to excuse my sins ; just please let it end fast, Ame- " he forgets his prayers as his guardian angel is standing just a few meters away from him ; oh have gods sent an identical twin - human version of Leona for him to be saved ? Well whatever now , he has no time if he's the original furry or not : "LEONAAAA HELLP-!!!!!!"

And yes , he is the original one ! He curses as he sees the population after Idia , what the hell is wrong with this world ? Idia hides behind his back and Leona tries to take control before they end up burning the two of them together : " You people , chill ," " Why you defending that creature ? He a a misfortune ! A demon !" others shout at this words in agreement . Leona laughs it off . He says that Idia is way too dumb for a demon and even if he is one , he's the type to scream his ass off when someone says "hi" . Idia doesn't know if Leona's defending him or not but he doesn't dare saying a word . Leona seems too busy dealing with the crowd and slowly , the argument topic switches from Idia to Leona ; who isn't afraid of punching some faces . The argument slowly takes over and no one (even Leona) realizes Idia sneaking into an alley saving his life . He feels a bit guilty for leaving Leona on his own but he'll be fine , hopefully

Thankfully the alley is deserted and he finally lays down to catch his breath , still panting heavily . He almost got killed today and can't get over it , but things were getting a bit comforting : "Meow~" several cats show up from the corners and Idia puts on a small smile . A white kittens comes closer and allows Idia to touch and comfort him . Idia wonders , how does their lives as a cat here feels ? do they as well get as scared as he was just now? . A few minutes later when Idia -and his cats- were chilling someone steps closer to them . Before Idia gets to run away , a tall , black and familiar face shows up and gives him a pretty calm smirk : " My my , I see you as well adore cats, could it be some part of our hellish natures ?"

"...J-Jade...?"

Feat : Ciel Phantomhive & Sebastian Michaelis

Let us be honest , it isn't going to be that bad for him , is it ? His current lifestyle at Valley of the thorns is nothing less than London's late 19th century , just maybe it had more of a natural theme . Well , no technology can be good news since he never really get used to it after all . London's atmosphere as well seem to be just his thing : Sometimes savage but calm , filled with tea parties and great ceremonies , an interesting back ground toward the royal family and in summary , Malleus's ideal theme

Well maybe except some things : 1) HORNS-ARE-GONE . His family treasure , the great heritage that proved him coming from the all great and respected Draconia family , now is gone 2) No need to mention that there is no sight of his fairy ears either- 3) Having his magic lost in this unknown world , he is now nothing different from a fragile human being , just as weak , just as empty , just as disgusting . Oh but our prince isn't totally left on his own here...

Unexpectedly , Phantomhive's mansion is serving a mysterious guest today , even though Ciel was against letting strangers inside the house . Sebastian insisted on being aware of the importance of hospitality as the Queen's watch dog , specially with special guests

Everything seems odd to Malleus , this world , this time , this people and...this master and butler . He is no fool , not even the foolishest of these humans would treat and cater strangers without wanting something in return , therefore he needs to keep his guard up . They shouldn't be aware of his actual identity even if they look deprived of any magic

Ciel is feeling awfully uncomfortable , who is this man ? And what the heck about him might have caught Sebastian's eyes ? This greedy demon wouldn't easily be impressed , so what could it be ?

Sebastian insists that it's how he should learn to treat everyone else if he's willing to be well remembered after death ; he pronounces the last word in a pretty deep , dark tone . Making it clear that how he'll finally die in a sarcastic way which teased Ciel

He decides not to have any argues with Sebastian on that point since he can act pretty cocky with stuff he gets stubborn over , so let's see what he's hiding up in sleeve this time . Though Ciel is suspicious of other stuff as well , this Mr... -whatever he is since he doesn't give them a name- looks like a pale - greenish version of Sebastian . Could he be another demon..?

Malleus refuses to give them a name due to possible risks , yet he has to admit that he's being taken care of properly . The room he's given isn't as big as the one in his castle , but is still considerable for something a stranger would be given . Other than that , anyone else he's met here so far seemed to be pretty chill , oh except this tiny child with a blindfold and he gets to be called young master ? He has to admit that he's impressed . To be in control of all this property when you aren't yet even tall enough to pick your favorite book from the shelf on your own

And there is another guy who is really...how to explain , is it some feeling of deja Vu or he really does look like Silver ? The guy is always talking to the snakes just as Silver talks to the birds and animals . If it weren't because of difference in eye color , perhaps Malleus wouldn't believe that he wasn't Sliver himself . " Your stay won't last much longer master , your friends are on their way here , says Donne ," Snake tells him . Malleus doesn't really know how to feel about him but his words comfort him for some reason...

Ciel says that he needs to check on the trio since they've been calling him all day so he heads to the front yard , leaving Sebastian and Malleus alone

Sebastian offers him some tea and Malleus of course sees no reason to refuse . Sebastian doesn't sit beside him because it's arrogant of servants to sit beside the guests , so he remains stood up . He doesn't bother starting a conversation with Malleus and he does know how to get him to speak . Malleus doesn't mind answering to...some of his questions . How he likes it here in London , if he needs anything else during his stay , but the last question made his eyes widen : Does he do feel any uncomfortable under the terms of not being able to use his powers ?

Malleus doesn't answer , he pretends that he didn't hear him and stares at the window . He is hoping it to help him ignore Sebastian , but what he sees isn't any better : Isn't that... Rosehearts laying there...??

Malleus has to go , not only because of getting rid of Sebastian at this point but to also check on his ally if he's alright or not : Did the butler know he too was here all the time ?

Sebastian just knows what was going on in his mind and wants better answers . Malleus stands up to leave but Sebastian takes grabs his arm before he could do anything : " No need to rush . We still have a lot to talk about , Mr. Draconia ,"

♦♥♠♣

Note for Idia's part : I was actually planning on Idea having his hair as well gone because , well , no magic no hair ? But that seemed too unfair for him lol

#twisted wonderland #twst #malleus draconia #black butler #Sebastian Michaelis #azul ashengrotto #leona kingscholar #Grell Sutcliff #jade leech #Vil Schoenheit #Jamil Viper #Riddle Rosehearts #Idia Shroud #Kalim al asim #Ciel Phantomhive #twst x Reader #twisted wonderland x black butler #twisted wonderland x reader #Undertaker

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inanabsentia · 4 years ago

Text

They couldn’t tell how a half year spent obsessing over him, over destroying themselves had changed them, how those days had permanently transformed the person they were.

Ophelia

A sequel and alternative ending to an Overhaul x gender neutral reader in which Overhaul’s S/O commits suicide by drowning themself in the bathtub of their shared room. Except this time, he saw.

LINK TO OPHELIA ACT ONE

Who knew that silence could be so deafening.

He hadn’t spent much time with you ever since he had started taking on the project on producing anti-quirk bullets. No one could blame him though, he was one step closer each day to becoming the ruler of the underworld, the messiah who would illuminate light onto the detrimental impacts of the filthy heroic society which had overglorified quirks and their use.

It was his time to shine anyway, his time to bring glory back to the man who had raised him and the environment which invited him with open arms.

After all, what better way is there to pay back to his pops whom he holds close and dear to his heart? Even if that meant using underhanded methods.

Chisaki Kai Overhaul mentally went through the checklist In his mind, mulling over whatever he had accomplished during the day, pondering where he should go next. Right now though? Rolling in bed beside his Angel didn’t seem like such a bad idea though, he had missed—

Oh yeah...His Angel was patiently waiting for him in their shared bedroom, probably staying up late like most nights just to greet him. He should hurry up, he doesn’t like the sight those dark eye bags of yours as a result of waiting up late for him. His emotional side found it rather endearing this act of yours, but his logical side (which he used much, much more) was adamant on making sure that you were not sleep deprived because of him.

But that didn’t settle the feeling within him. That familiar feeling of dread, like the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. Kinda like that feeling when you knew a thunderstorm was approaching and you’re still in the middle of the woods, left unprotected without an umbrella and left at the mercy of the rolling thunderstorms and the downpour of rain which resembled sharp daggers piercing deep into your skin.

Yeah, something akin to that. He didn’t like that feeling though because his logic couldn’t seem to comprehend and explain this particular feeling. He’s tried to brush it off, focusing more on trying to make his way back to the shared bedroom between you and him. But he had to admit that the feeling never really went away, it just settled there in his stomach, a growing pit of trepidation and Fervor intensifying deep within him to the point he couldn’t deny its presence anymore.

His mind was convoluted with dark imagery of the worse possible outcome scenarios— his production coming to a sudden halt and the hardwork and research he’s put in years for being rushed down the drain. Pops never really waking up from his comatose state as induced by Chisaki Overhaul himself, never getting the chance to see the new profound glorify Overhaul had created within the Shie Hassakai.

But what about Y/N?

His Angel? The one person who had been by his side for the longest (asides Chrono), having been by his side during his best and his worst, illuminating his life and giving him a reason to keep striving forward, to keep going on. Your angelic presence alone had instilled something akin to excitement within him, he felt like he was 10 again, yet he feels this like he’s never felt for the longest time.

It was a good feeling though, it had warmed him and filled his entire being with serenity and tranquility. He liked the effect you had on him and he cherished you. He liked you, a lot and he wanted to rule his new future with you by his side, proudly standing tall next to the messiah of his shared vision, sharing the joyous moment of having been able to finally achieve it all.

But why did it feel so...off now? The joy he felt was only short-lived and that feeling of dread came back again. It came back to haunt him again, reigniting those horrific imagery (that he desperately tried to bury to the crevices of his mind), tormenting him, filling his entire being with chaos and madness. It felt wrong. If felt oh so wrong.

He reaches your shared bedroom and hesistates before reaching for the door knob, silently noticing how the light which peered from the gap between the door and the floor and become much dimmer. Of course, He was observant to the minute details, he had to be in this line of work.

And with the courage he mustered to twist the handle and push the door, the sight of the dimly lit bedroom greets him, the only light illuminating the room coming from the bathroom at the side. It wasn’t usual for his angel to be taking a shower so late in the night but then again, there were no sounds emanating from the bathroom.

No rain-like sounds from the shower head, no hard soap scrubbing sounds, no melodious singing coming from his angel, nothing.

Except for a few bleak and desolate water drops, falling into a mass of water.

It was eerie. It felt wrong on it felt so off.

Drip drip drip!

He inched his way closer to the bathroom, the room was so silent he could hear his heart palpitating and thrumming against his chest fervently.

Drip drip drip!

He noticed the unmade bedsheets, the solemn books left hapzardly strewn across the floor, very unusual from the methodical and neat way you would organise your belongings.

Drip drip!

“Angel?”

Drip!

And then his heart with absolute horror fills.

Time stood still. Who knew that silence could be so deafening. The sight of your desolate and despondent eyes greeted him, all devoid of life as life your very soul had been sucked all up, leaving behind a mass of human meat sack, waiting to be disintegrated into an abyss of nothingness. Your poignant expression to him made you seem like you just wanted to curl up and disappear into an air of absentia.

The painful moment which lasted for an eternity for both individuals finally seemed to end once he propelled himself forward and wrapped you into a tight and warm embrace, an oddly comforting gesture considering how cold you were due to how Long you had been sinking yourself into the bath tub of water, imagining it as if it were the large ocean, carrying you away from your woes whilst your worries melted and washed away with the tides.

Just a few minutes ago, you wanted to bring an end to your misery and life. Now though? You were glad he’s here and that you were here for this. And so was he.

“Oh angel..,” were the first words he spoke, his voice cracking which went by unnoticed by you due to how intimate the gesture was. Your warms tears soaking his already damp shirt, your fingers curling around his body as you squeezed the shirt behind him at the familiar term of endearment.

“Kai, I was only ever thinking about you, you know?” Your cries muffled as he pressed your face into his chest, cooing and soothing you as he listened to your misery. Oh how miserable his Angel must have felt! The guilt wrenched his heart and the feeling intensifies, now his own tears welling up in his eyes and threatening to fall too.

Deep down though he knew, he knew that he needed to express to you a love that’s reciprocated, a love that’s worth wanting. He needed to be better.

And he vows that internally to himself by gently grazing his fingertips underneath your eye bags to brush away the tears cascading down your cheeks. His lips shook and he struggled to find the words to say. But he had a inkling; a feeling that you understood he knew how much he had fucked up.

For some time, he was uncertain. But now, he’s sure that it was him and them. Them and him. And Hand in hand together, they’re floating through the cosmos.

END

Thank you for readin this! 😜

Link to another Overhaul x reader Semi-angst oneshot in which after losing his arms, Overhaul hallucinates his (non gender specific) S/O comforting him into a paradise far, far away, reminiscing about another universe where they are so in love. Entitled: Doleur Exquise

Taglist for this ff: (anyone may request to be included for future works too! I write for Dabi, Shiggy and Birdman!)

@snow99fire

@glassartpeasants

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metataxy · 3 years ago

Text

Darth Maul, post-Order 66 Fanfic #9

Maul tries to hunt down a Fallen Jedi to make friends and Accidentally Acquires a Child. Spoiler alert, the child is Seventh Sister.

In this segment: Maul traumatizes stormtroopers, Seventh learns to shoot, and there’s more Sith First Aid lessons.

I’m not posting on AO3 until I figure out what’s happening, but the parts of the story I’ve written so far are linked here:

Maul 1, Maul 2, Dathomir 1, Maul 3, Dathomir 2, Maul 4, Dathomir 3 , Lothal 1, Seventh as a Nightsister

Warnings: Child abuse (not intentional, but it’s Maul), canon-typical violence, medical horror (Sith alchemy is no substitue for a licensed physician, I guess), colourism/xenophobia (Imperials, ugh), CPR

Creel couldn’t guess how many days had passed since the red man had dragged them down to the cargo bay.

The lights in the bay were always on. Maybe the Jedi couldn’t be bothered to turn them off. He liked that possibility more than the other that came to mind.

The officer training manuals described what he could expect during capture or interrogation. Sleep deprivation and the removal of means to guess the passage of time were standard.

He tracked time by their bodies. How often he dribbled water from a torn corner of his shirt into Moakes’ slack mouth. How often he used the bucket in the corner. The diminishing intervals between the moments Stelkin surfaced from his shellshock to start crying again, and his diminishing patience for consoling the cadet.

He tracked time by the effort it took him to unscrew and slowly pry open a panel over a part of the wall that echoed under his fist: an air vent.

And most of all, he tracked time by when the Padawan came for target practice.

The mad Jedi had at least turned down the power on the blaster to a level that merely left blisters, instead of burning through flesh. The green girl shot like shite. In three visits, she managed to hit herself and everything in the cargo bay except the target. He kept Moakes in the safest space, the corner below her platform, and dragged Stelkin there when he heard the door bang open.

She threw them food and rations before she started firing. Again, Creel couldn’t decide whether their captors did this out of malicious intent--to make them associate fulfillment of their basic needs with their presence—or simple convenience.

By her fourth visit, her rebound shots had covered his back in blisters, and further reduced Stelkin to a trembling mess.

On her fifth, a wayward shot caught Moakes on the cheek, and Creel had enough.

“Stop,” he bellowed, with all his practice leading a thousand drills through thousand mornings in the GAR Reserves. Stelkin shrieked, the girl skittered back against the door, and for a moment, he thought he’d gone too far, that she’d go get the Red Man.

She didn’t. She watched him from up on the platform like a wary tooka, the blaster swinging from her shaky hand, dark circles under her eyes. Apparently his men weren’t the only ones not sleeping.

“Pick up the gun in two hands,” he ordered. “It’s too heavy for you to hold and aim with one hand.”

She curled her lip and shot at him.

She missed.

“Kark,” he swore. “Don’t listen to me then.” He stomped back to the corner.

His intercession helped somewhat, at least. Now that she was deliberately trying to hit them with the rebounds, of course, not a damned bolt came near them.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall and ignored the whine of the blaster above him. He imagined himself home again, his wife smiling at him from over her sewing, his daughter in his arms. She’d be about as big now as that little jedi, he thought, stomach turning.

He wondered if his superiors had declared him dead yet.

He banished the thought. It was useless to dwell on that. He grounded himself with the memory of Corine by candlelight, squinting her way through a difficult bit of embroidery for some offworld client, tired yet pleased with her progress. He thought of her fingers, stained from her work at the dye manufacture during the day, raw from plying her needle all night long.

He wished he could take a holo of the tunic the little Padawan seemed to live in. Corine loved textiles from other worlds. He did his best to collect them for her at every outpost. He’d seen the Padawan’s tunic in the shop, would have bought it as a gift for both Corine and Rudith, but for the price. The garment, now singed with blasterbolts, had been worth more than he made in a month.

So much for Jedi being above material concerns.

He thought of every garment he’d ever seen pass through Corine’s hands, the colours, the bitter smell of mordant and the sweet scent of the herbs she used to keep the insects out of her stock, and had almost drifted into sleep when something hit him.

“Stang, Stelkin, stop it,” he grumbled, and Stelkin made a sound that wasn’t a word, but something kept bumping against his legs, and he opened his eyes.

Moakes was convulsing.

He scrambled up and ran back out from the corner, even though the girl was still shooting.

“Stop!” he thundered, and the girl flinched back, finger twitching on the trigger and sending another bolt caroming around the room. “I need help! One of my men is dying!”

The little bitch shot at him for the third time that day. “You didn’t stop,” she accused him. He flashed back to when he’d pulled her from the vents not long ago, screaming and crying and biting.

“I was trying to save you!” he reasoned with her—or tried, dodging a fourth bolt. Stang, but the girl would decide to follow his advice on how to shoot now, of all times. “The Jedi are terrible. They take kids like you—” he dodged the fifth bolt, and rethought explaining the girl’s situation to her just now. “Please! Help!”

She didn’t quit shooting.

The door banged open. The Jedi Master stalked in and laid a hand over the girl’s, where it gripped the gun.

She stopped firing, but Creel could her breathing from down in the cargo bay, low and fast.

“Apprentice,” the Jedi murmured. “Gather the med kit and meet me down in the cargo bay.”

Her breathing accelerated. Rudith always collapsed into hiccoughing sobs after hyperventilating like this. He expected the Padawan would do the same, but she merely muttered a “Yes, Master,” and hustled back into the galley of the ship.

The Jedi Master descended in the lift, unhurried, and sauntered over to the still convulsing Moakes. Stelkin, who had pulled his head out of his ass long enough to check Moakes’ pulse, scrambled back on his hands.

“You’ll help him,” Creel said.

The red man ignored him, slowly turning rather to the platform. “Come down, apprentice,” he ordered, kneeling next to Moakes.

The green girl paused, lips pursed in a way that always preceded a tantrum in Rudith, but she came, stumbling at the weight of the heavy medical kit over her shoulder. Creel bent to take it from her. She swerved away from him, glaring, and dropped the bag down by her Master.

“Tell me what you think is wrong with him, Apprentice,” the man asked calmly.

Creel stared in disbelief. “He’s dying. He has a head injury, and he’s dying. Buy the kid a textbook, this isn’t some kind of school exercise—”

The Red Man lifted a hand, and in the space between heartbeats, Creel careened into the backwall, hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs, and slid down to the floor.

“—not interrupt my lessons again,” the Red Man told him. “As the man said, it’s a head injury. It’s a closed head injury. See how his eyes are dilated, and how he’s having a convulsion?”

The girl nodded.

“Get the drill out of the kit.” The Jedi Master flipped Moakes over, as casually as Corine shook out her sheets, and held the back of the man’s skull. “If you ever need to keep someone alive with this condition, you have to relieve the pressure on the brain by drilling a hole for the blood to come out.”

The little Jedi staggered forward, with a drill that, like everything else on this ship, was designed for adults and too heavy for her. Surely the Jedi wasn’t going to allow…

The Master took the girl’s hand and set it down on the Moakes’ scabbed scalp. “Close your eyes and reach out—no, not for the man’s mind. For his body. Yes. Feel the little deaths, those cells winking one by one under your hands—where is the greatest number of these?”

The girl’s left hand moved, her right coming forward with the drill.

“Draw on the Force to steady your hand,” the Master breathed, “let it tell you exactly how deep—”

The drill whirred. Creel could hardly look until it was over, and bloody fluid trickled out of the messy divot the apprentice had left in Moakes’ skull. Creel could have thrown up.

He didn’t. Even if there was nothing he could do, like hell he’d leave Moakes alone to these witches.

The convulsions lessened, but the little girl breathed in sharply. “He’s still dying.”

“Good,” the Red Man approved. Good? Creel raged. “Feel his pulse. No, like this,” the man ordered, positioning the girl’s fingers on Moakes’ wrist. “What do you feel, with your hand?”

“Nothing.”

“Precisely. Get the injector marked epinephrine out of the case, quickly.” The girl rummaged through the sack. The Master flipped Moakes on his back again, then gestured to Creel. “Start life support on your friend. I assume the Empire covered that much,” he sneered.

Head ringing, Creel still rushed to comply while the girl fumbled the injector out the wrapping.

“What can I do?”

Stelkin. The pup had discovered some spine. “Tilt his head back, pinch his nose, and give him two breaths by mouth when I tell you—” Creel huffed as he finished chest compression, “—now!”

Creel glanced up and saw the girl holding the injector.

“—IM CPR marked on this injector means it can be delivered through muscle to try to restart someone’s heart,” the Jedi Master was saying.

“You don’t have any IV epi in that medkit?”

“Would you like my apprentice to try injecting into a vein?” the Red Man asked, amused, and Creel could have bloodied his fists on the man’s face. “I would, but we haven’t the time. Girl, press the plunger against the man’s thigh and hit the button on the side.”

She squeaked as the auto-injector disengaged. Done. The epi given, the compressions continued, Stelkin huffing into Moakes’ mouth.

Still, no pulse.

It was going on too long, Creel knew. Too long. Moakes’ eyes bulged glassily out from his skull. He thought of those eyes, gloating over a hand of sabacc during the games played by flashlight after lights out. Thought of that great chest, now caved under his hands, heaving with laughter. Thought of all the infinite small things the clone had taught him—how to guess the distance of a ground battle from the flash and thunder of the guns. How to pack a kit only with the essentials. What insects were edible if you had no rations and were starving.

Moakes’ lessons had saved his life. Would probably keep on saving it, long into the future. And now, he was to die?

Creel glanced up sideways, through his sweat-slicked bangs to the Red Man.

He was smiling.

“Do something, dammit,” he snarled at the Jedi, arms still pumping. “Save him! You’re a gods-damned Jedi, you have the power—”

The Red Man sneered. “So now you beg the Jedi for mercy.” He regarded them all in distaste, his little Padawan hiding behind him once more. “Where was mercy,” he spat, “when your mobs were piling on half trained children and ripping them limb from limb? When an Imperial Moff was so afraid of a single Jedi that he ordered an orbital strike to take her out?”

“We had nothing to do with that,” Creel said, and not they deserved what they got , but the Jedi Master heard what he’d left unspoken.

“Oh, they deserved it,” he said, “but not at the hands of their inferiors.” The Jedi wiped a smudge of blood on a rag he’d floated out of their corner, threw the rag away, and began to rise. To leave.

“No, please. Anything. You can do something,” Creel urged, and then swallowed his pride. “I’m begging you. Please.”

“Anything?” the Jedi Master repeated, his strange gold eyes glittering.

“Please,” Creel said again.

A pleased smile passed over the man’s demonic visage. “I have meant to try something,” he murmured, and Creel felt the hair rise on the nape of his neck. This was a bad idea.

“Apprentice? Hands off the man but reach out. Feel his life. His arms, his heart, his brain. Feel—good,” coaxed the Master. “Very good. Now, feel as I seize the life at his very fingertips, and…”

You couldn’t tell at first, through Moakes’ dark skin, as his fingertips turned blue, but they did. Then they pruned and shrivelled like an old man’s, his hand withering in turn. The skin on his arm thinned and sagged, even as the flesh of his fingers suddenly dissolved into dust. The clatter of the small bones on the steel flooring shook Creel from his horror. Stelkin had long gone back to gibbering in the corner.

“No,” he breathed. “This isn’t—”

“This is a branch of skill known as energy manipulation,” the man lectured. “I take the life from his arms and transfer it to his dying heart and brain. A great deal of energy is lost in the transfer, but there should be just enough from his arms to do—there.”

Moakes’ arms had disintegrated up to the shoulder socket, but his chest rose and fell with regular breaths, and he no longer bled from his scalp. He didn’t get up though. He stared vacantly at the ceiling.

“Come, Apprentice,” the Jedi Master bid his Padawan, who complied, scrambling up onto the platform lift.

“Wait,” Creel said, “he’s still not right.”

“You asked me to do something,” the Jedi Master mocked. “I have ‘done’ something. If he’s not as you expected…” he lifted his hands in a parody of a shrug and activated the lift.

The Jedi and the Padawan ascended, leaving Creel alone in the cargo bay with Stelkin, and a living corpse.

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Ugh. Tonally, this is just so unrelentingly dark. I need to figure out a way to loosen the tension in between the angst, or I suspect the thing is going to be just too depressing to read.

#Darth Maul #Seventh Sister #post Order 66 #Star Wars #star wars fanfiction #sith alchemy #sith

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