#There is symbolism here if you look hard enough!

[linkemon]

Boysband AU headcanons

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi.

Other headcanons from this series can be found here. This part contains: Lilia Vanrouge, Cater Diamond and Kalim Al-Asim.

Lilia Vanrouge

• His signature trait is a scream with a capital "S." He has gathered a massive following of metal and rock fans. You could say he has attracted enough to form a mini fandom within the entire band.

• You stand up for him with the producers every time he wants to add another heavy track to the new album. He finds it incredibly amusing to drop these kinds of ideas on you without warning. Not too long ago, he brought it up in front of the board, watching your reaction with great interest. His long, drawn-out laughter always follows.

• Lilia loves pulling pranks on set while filming music videos. He also has an uncanny ability to jump out unexpectedly and scare people. You worry that one day you might actually have a heart attack.

• His symbol is a bat. It’s not only on his guitar but he also released a series of black plush toys that everyone adores and buys in droves.

• Lilia hates bright sunlight and early wake-ups. Sometimes, you have to obsessively call him just to get him up for rehearsals — especially when he’s stayed up late playing games, which he often streams for his fans.

• He once participated in a cooking show for publicity, saying it might be fun. He completely burned what he had in the pan and got eliminated right at the start. Since then, you and the rest of the band have kept him away from the kitchen as much as possible.

Cater Diamond

• The most media-savvy member of the band. If you need content for social media, he’s the first person you ask. A quick photo? He’s taken three. A video? He has a compilation of funny bloopers. A post? He knows all the trending hashtags.

• His signature symbol is a diamond — the same one that shines on his cheek every day. It’s also featured on his merch, from hats and shirts to jewelry.

• He has a very interesting relationship with the fans. He often engages in conversations with them longer than he should. He also signs an excessive number of autographs. If you left him alone with a phone, he would never refuse a selfie.

• Cater struggles with his self-esteem. He never lets anyone see it but the entertainment industry weighs on him, even though he’s addicted to it. One day, you found him in tears, scrolling through hateful comments. He had hidden away after a long day of rehearsals in the back of the recording studio. You’ll never forget how tightly he held onto you, soaking your sweater and apologizing over and over. You knew that, even though he looked beautiful in your eyes, it might be hard for him to believe it himself, so you just sat there in silence.

• Cater sometimes plays quiet songs and sings them only for those closest to him — including you. That’s when he shows a sensitive side he usually keeps hidden. His songs reflect his emotions and his inner world.

• Since he always keeps up with the latest trends, he’s the easiest to work with when shooting music videos. He knows how to dress fashionably, apply makeup and often has plenty of helpful ideas.

Kalim Al-Asim

• The brightest sunshine of the band and its heart. He was the one who gathered his friends long ago and, for fun, pulled them into playing instruments. Joy has always been his priority. He treats working with the agency as a great adventure but he would leave in a heartbeat if his friends ever felt unhappy with fame. Whether it’s a garage behind the house or the bright lights of an international stage, it makes him just as happy.

• Drumming is his way of channeling the incredible energy inside him. He often changes its look, decorating it with stickers and swapping out his drumsticks.

• Kalim is quite innocent, which leads to many funny situations. Fans make a huge number of memes with him as the main character but he loves them and enjoys the laughter they bring.

• His innocence, unfortunately, also makes him vulnerable to danger. More than once, famous idols or paparazzi have tried to use him for scandals to boost their own publicity. Luckily, since you’ve been on guard, you catch on in time and swat them away like flies.

• Sometimes, he does things that cross professional boundaries but you don’t always have the heart to tell him. Especially when he’s so happy — hugging you or encouraging you to sing a few lines of a new song with him. Kalim always makes sure to mention you when it’s time to give thanks while accepting various awards.

• As the son of wealthy merchants, he has inherited their talent for clever negotiation. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s casually, yet diplomatically, negotiated higher rates for album sales or performances.

[tarochimochi]

Losercake, everyday, daily

Day 74

[sparklingblu]

Infinite Impossibilities: A Pervert's Dream Journal

Day 1: Karina

You sit in the lecture hall, struggling to focus on professor Karina’s lecture. It’s not that the material is boring - you’re quite interested in the works of John Keats. But fuck, it’s nearly impossible to pay attention with a goddess like her standing at the podium.

Karina is weaning a tight-fitted blazer that hugs her curves in all the right places. The fabric stretches taut over her ample breasts, the buttons straining to contain them. Your eyes keep drifting to her deep cleavage, wondering if she’s wearing a bra and what kind. Lacy and sheer, maybe? Or something more functional and practical? Maybe she’s not wearing anything at all.

She turns to write on the whiteboard, and your gaze zeroes in on her ass. The skirt she’s wearing is just long enough to be appropriate, but it rides up enough to give you a tantalizing glimpse of her smooth, toned thighs. You imagine hiking it up even further, exposing her plump ass cheeks and giving them a firm spank.

But you shake those thoughts away quickly, feeling your cock twitch in your pants. Christ, get it together. Karina continues speaking passionately about Keat’s metaphors and symbolism, her full, glossy lips moving hypnotically as she forms each word. You picture them wrapped around your thick shaft, sucking you off with the same enthusiasm and dedication to her craft. Your erection grows, straining against the confines of your jeans.

She runs a hand through her long, silky black hair as she considers a student’s question, and you fantasize about gripping that hair, holding her head in place as you fuck her mouth. Those dark, soulful eyes of hers would look up at you pleadingly as you use her throat for your pleasure, forcing her to gag and choke on your huge cock.

Jesus, you’re in trouble. How are you going to make it through this class without jumping her right here in front of everyone? The things you’d do to her if given the chance….you bet she’d be a quick learner. Eager to please. Such a good girl, desperate for a nice, hard cock.

You imagine bending her over the podium and hiking up that prim little skirt. Ripping her panties off and rubbing your hard cock between her ass cheeks. Spanking her when she begs too loudly for it. Teasing her pussy with the tip until she’s dripping wet and aching to be filled.

Maybe you’d let her suck you off first, giving a taste of what's to come. Making her swallow every last drop before shoving your cock in her soaking cunt and pounding her until she screams. Until she forgets all about fucking Keats and only remembers the way your cock feel splitting her open.

You take a deep breath, trying to will your erection away. The thoughts of Karina naked and writhing beneath you are not helping. Fuck, you need to get a grip. Think about something else. Anything else. Like Keats’ fucking Odes. Right. Odes.

You barely register the end of the lecture, just barely picking up your stuff in time before she dismisses the class. You follow the herd of students filing out, forcing yourself not to look back at Karina. She probably doesn’t even know you exist. Why would she? You’re just another horny student. Not worth her notice.

As you reach the door, you hear your name called out in a melodic voice. Your heart stops for a moment as you turn around. She’s looking right at you, her dark eyes intense and focused.

“Mr. Raphael, could you stay after class? I’d like to have a word with you”

Fuck. You swallow hard, nodding mutely as you watch her bend over the podium, rummaging through her notes. Oh god, you’re in deep now. She’s going to realize what a pervert you are. What you’ve been thinking about doing to her hot little body.

You approach Karina’s desk, hands trembling slightly as you try to think of an excuse. You didn’t do anything wrong….right? Maybe she just wants to discuss your grade or assignment feedback.

After a while, Karina takes her seat and looks up at you with a warm smile, her dark eyes twinkling. �� Mr. Raphael, thanks for staying. I wanted to speak with you about your latest assignment on Keats’ odes.”

You nod, feeling a bit awkward. “Oh, uh, yeah. What do you think?”

She leans back in her chair, the fabric of her tight blazer stretching obscenely across her huge tits.. “I think it’s excellent work. You clearly have a deep understanding of the material and a real knack for close reading”

You feel a surge of pride at her words, but it’s tempered by the way her gaze seems to linger on you just a moment too long. Is it your imagination, or is there a hint of something more in her eyes?

“That’s great to hear,” you manage to say, shifting from foot to foot. “I really enjoy the subject matter”

“I can tell,” she says, a small smile playing at the corners of her glossy lips. “I’m glad you appreciate it. I aim to be very….hands-on with my students. “

Your mind immediately conjures images of those elegant hands all over your body, gripping your ass, stroking your cock. You shift uncomfortably, feeling yourself grow hard.

“And I couldn’t help but notice how much you seem to…admire my tits,” she continues, toying with the buttons on her shirt. “The way you stare at them during class. Like you’re aching to free them and bury your face between them.”

“Professor Karina, I….” you start to protest weakly, but she cuts you off with a wave of her hand.

“Oh please, spare me the innocent act,” she scoffs. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. Like a starving man eyeing a feast.”

She stands up and walks around the desk, hips swaying hypnotically. She comes to stand right in front of you, so close you can feel the heat radiating off her body. Her tits brush against your chest and you bite back a moan.

“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” she whispers, her breath hot on your ear. “You want to bend me over this desk and pound my pussy until I scream.”

You whimper, your cock now rock hard and straining against your zipper. “Yes,” you admit hoarsely. “Fuck yes.”

She grins wickedly, backing up slightly to give a good look of her body. “Then why don’t you show me what you’ve got? Fuck me like the horny little cumslut I am”

Before you can react, she’s unbuttoning her shirt and shrugging it off, revealing a lacy black bra that barely contains her massive tits. You gape at them, mesmerized by their perfect roundness and softness.

She reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her tits spring free, huge and heavy and perfect. The rosy nipples are hard little peaks begging to be sucked.

“Touch them,” she demands, pushing her chest out invitingly. “Grab my fucking tits and worship them like they deserve.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You reach out and cup her massive breasts in your hands, marveling at their weight and softness. They overflow your palm, the warm flesh spilling between your fingers. You squeeze them gently, feeling the heavy globes respond to your touch.

“Mhmm, just like that,” she moans, arching into your touch. “Play with those big fucking titties.”

You pinch one of her sensitive buds between your thumb and forefinger, tugging on it and rolling it back and forth until she’s writhing against you with desire. Her other nipple is just as needy, begging for attention. You give it the same treatment, watching her face contort with pleasure.

“You like that, don’t you?” she asks, voice hoarse. “Feeling my big tits in your hands. Groping them like you’ve always dreamed of”

You lean down and capture one of her nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the rigid peak.

“Oh fuck, yes,” she cries out. “Suck my tits like a hungry baby. Suck them until I leak milk.”

You switch to the other nipple, lavishing it with the same attention as you palm and squeeze her breasts. The flesh is soft and pilant in your hands, yet firm with muscle beneath the surface. You could spend hours exploring those incredible tits, learning every inch of their curves and hollows.

But Karina has other ideas. She pulls your head back by your hair, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Enough playing with my tits,” she growls. “I need you to eat my cunt. Now.”

She shoves you down onto your knees and hikes up her skirt, revealing a skimpy thong already soaked through with her arousal. The scent of her pussy fills your nostrils, musky and sweet.

“Taste me,” she hisses, grinding her crotch against your face. “Shove your tongue in my fucking hole and lap up all my juices.”

You bury your face between her legs, licking and sucking at her pussy through the thin fabric of her panties. The taste of her is divine, heady and intoxicating.

“Pull my thong aside,” she pants, fisting your hair. “I want to feel your tongue on my clit.”

You comply, tugging the soaked fabric to the side and diving in with renewed fervor. You swipe your tongue along her slit, moaning at the first taste of her nectar on your tongue.

“Oh fuck yes,” she cries out, riding your face shamelessly. “Lick my cunt like a good boy. Make me cum all over that pretty mouth.”

You alternate between lapping at her folds and flicking her clit with the tip of your tongue, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until she’s thrashing against you.

“Fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna cum!” she screams, her thighs clamping around your head. “Don’t you dare stop!”

You double your efforts, plunging two fingers as she squirts all over your face and mouth, gushing hot cum down your throat. You swallow it greedily, relishing every drop of her essence.

When she finally comes down from her high, she pushes you away and backs up, panting heavily. “Now get up and strip,” she orders, eyes dark with lust. “It’s time for me to return the favor.”

You scramble to obey, yanking your clothes off in record time. Your cock springs free, hard and ready and straining towards her.

“Mhmm, such a nice big dick,” she purrs approvingly, stroking it with one hand while unzipping her skirt with the other. She lets it pool at her feet before stepping out of it, leaving her in just her thigh high stockings.

She turns around and bends over the desk, reaching back to spread her ass cheeks apart. Her pussy glistens with juices, pink and perfect and so fucking ready for you.

“Fuck my cunt,” she demands, looking back at you over her shoulder with a challenging glare. “Pound me into this desk until I can’t walk straight.”

You grab her hips and line up your cock with her entrance, rubbing the head teasingly through her slick folds. She moans impatiently, wiggling her ass against you.

“Stop teasing and fuck me already!” she snarls. “Impale me on that huge fucking cock!”

You can’t deny her a second longer. With one hard thrust, you bury yourself balls-deep in her tight heat. She cries out in ecstasy, her walls clamping down around you like a vice.

“Oh god yes!” she wails as you start to move, sawing in and out of her with powerful strokes. “Fuck me fuck me fuck me!”

The desk creaks and shakes beneath you as you rut into her like an animal, driven by pure primal lust. She meets every thrust with the roll of her hips, slamming against you with wanton abandon.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, mingling with her high-pitched moans and your low grunts of pleasure. Your hands reach around to grab her tits, squeezing the soft mounds roughly. You pinch her nipples between your fingers, twisting and pulling on the sensitive buds.

“Ahhh! Fuck yes play with my tits!” Karina moans, arching her back to push her beasts further into your grip. You comply eagerly, kneading the pillowy flesh and rolling her nipples between your fingers until they are stiff peaks.

Your hips piston faster, driving your cock deeper into her sopping wet cunt. The head bumps against her cervix with each thrust, making her yelp and shudder. You can feel her getting tighter and tighter around you, her body tensing as she nears her peak.

“I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum!” she cries out, her voice high and breathy. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop!”

You double your efforts, pounding into her harder and faster than ever. Your balls slap against her clit with each stroke, the lewd sound making your cock throb with need. The pleasure is intense, building and building until it feels like you might explode.

“Cum inside me,” she pants, pushing back onto you with bruising force. “Fill me up with your hot seed. I want to feel you pulsing in my cunt”

Her words send you hurtling over the edge. With a roar, you bury yourself to the hilt and let go, spurting jets of cum deep into her waiting womb.

She cries out in rapture as she feels your release flooding her insides, triggering her own orgasm. Her pussy spasms around you as she comes hard, milking every last drop from your cock.

You collapse on top of her, both of you gasping for breath as the aftershocks of pleasure course through your bodies. She turns her head and captures your lips in a searing kiss, plundering your mouth with her tongue.

When you finally break apart, she smiles at you wickedly. “Mhmm, now that’s what I call a productive study session,” she purrs, giving your softening cock a squeeze. “But don’t think we are done yet. I’m going to drain those big balls of yours until you are completely empty.”

She strokes your semi-hard length, coaxing it back to full mast. You groan at the sensation, still sensitive from your recent orgasm. But your body responds eagerly to her touch, your cock hardening in her grip.

“I want you to fuck my tits,” Karina demands, pushing you down on the desk chair. She kneels before you, squeezing her breasts together. “Cum all over those perfect tits. Coat me in your juice.”

You can only nod dumbly, too turned on to form words. She takes your rigid cock and nestles it between her soft mounds, enveloping you in warm, pillowy flesh. Then she starts moving, sliding up and down your shaft with a steady rhythm.

“Oh fuck,” you groan, mesmerized by the sight of your dick disappearing between her tits over and over.

You can’t believe this is actually happening. The hottest professor on campus, the one you have fantasized about for weeks, is on her knees before you, her luscious tits wrapped around your aching cock. It’s like something out of a daydream.

As Karina works your shaft with her perfect breasts, you reach out to grab her hair, guiding her head down further. She takes the hint, hollowing her cheeks and sucking hard on the tip of your cock each time it pops out from her cleavage.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you groan, hips bucking up to meet her movements. “Suck that cock you dirty slut. Show me how much you love having my dick in your mouth.”

She moans around you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Her hands cup your balls, massaging them gently as she blows you. You are so close now, your thrusts becoming erratic and desperate.

“I’m getting close again,” you warn her, hips thrusting like a madman into her pillowy tits. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum soon!”

“Yes, do it!” she urges, squeezing her tits tighter around you. “Paint my tits with your hot cum. I want to be covered in it!”

Her dirty words push you over the edge. With a guttural moan, you explode, your cock pulsing as thick ropes of semen spurt out and splatter across her chest. She aims your cock so that each shot lands on her breasts, glazing them with your essence.

When your orgasm finally subsides, you collapse back in the chair, chest heaving. Karina releases your spent cock, admiring the mess you’ve made of her tits. She scoops some of your cum onto her fingers and licks it off with a moan.

“Mhmm, you taste even better on my tits,” she purrs, sucking the last drop from her digits. “Such a good boy, giving me exactly what I wanted.” She stands, leaning down to give you a deep passionate kiss, sharing your combined taste.

Before you can plead for more, she breaks the kiss. “Now it’s time for the main event,” she says, rolling onto her hands and knees. She looks over her shoulder at you, ass high in the air. “Come and claim your prize, tiger. Stick that big cock in my ass.”

Despite having cummed twice, your cock has already begun throbbing at the sight of her magnificent ass. You kneel behind her and rub the head on her slick folds, coating yourself in her juices. Then you notch it against her puckered hole and start to push.

“Oh fuck,” Karina gasps as you breach her tight ring of muscle, “You’re so big. Stretching me so good.”

You groan as her ass clench around you, hot and velvety soft. You grip her hips and start to move, slowly at first, letting her adjust to your size. But soon you are pounding into her, hard and fast, just the way she needs it.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Karina wails, taking your pounding like a champ. Her tits bounce and jiggle with the force of your strokes, the lewd sight spurring you on.

Unable to resist, you reach around and grab her melons, kneading the soft mounds and pinching her nipples. You use her tits to your heart’s content, tugging and twisting her sensitive peaks as you rut into her from behind. The dual stimulation has her writhing in ecstasy, her pussy clenching around nothing as her ass milks your cock.

“I’m close,” she warns, voice tight with impending release. “Fuck me harder! Make me cum on that big cock!”

Your hips snap forward like a piston, hammering into her ass with brutal force. Karina’s ass clenches even tighter around your cock as her lips spill a string of curses.

“Oh god, I’m cumming!” she screams, back arching as her orgasm overtakes her. Her ass spasms around you, her inner walls rippling along your shaft as she comes hard.

The feeling of her clenching and fluttering pushes you over the edge. With a roar, you slam into her one last time, emptying your balls into her ass.

“Fuck,” you growl as you erupt, painting her walls with your thick essence. Jet after jet of cum spurts from your slit, flooding her ass and leaking around your shaft.

You keep your cock buried in her for a moment as you catch your breath before pulling out, letting a waterfall of cum pour out from her now gaping hole.

It feels like every bone in your body has been turned to lead, your breathing ragged and shallow. You collapse, finally broken after three continuous fuck session.

As you lay there on the cold floor contemplating what the hell has just happened, Karina’s face hovered into view, looking too energetic for someone who has just gotten their asshole stretched loose.

She leans in, hinting at a kiss before pulling back with a wicked smile. “You know we are not done yet, right?”

-

In this series, I intend to focus purely on smut. There won't be much plot, just 99 percent smut. Some dialogues and sceneries might not even make sense. But that's the point. Because it's pure fantasy.

[olailamajnoon]

Bruce pulled off his sweaty shirt in Ma Kent's kitchen along with Clark and Hal, and began chugging a lemonade. The three men had been doing something that apparently constituted hard manual labor in the barn. Zatanna watched silently, then she noticed it.

A tattoo on Bruce's abs. Some foreign symbols engraved in calligraphic form.

It was possible the world was coming to an end.

She turned her head to try and read it. It was Kryptonian, if she had to take a guess.

Bruce noticed where her gaze was. "My eyes are up here," he said.

"I know," said Zatanna, rolling hers. "I just...since when do you have a tattoo?"

"Since I lost a bet to my kids," said Bruce.

"You let your kids do this to you?" Zatanna was incredulous.

"It's been five years, Zee," said Clark. "Are you seriously noticing it now?"

"Well, I don't make a habit of staring at Bruce's nude form," she replied, her sentence heavy with implication.

Clark blushed and dropped his spectacles.

"What's next," said Zatanna bitterly to Bruce. "I find out you're part of a biker gang?"

"You don't become a biker with just one tattoo," said Hal. "You need an entire sleeve of them."

"Don't give him any ideas," Zatanna cautioned.

"You're overreacting," said Clark.

"The world is in a delicate state of balance," said Zatanna. "The very foundations of my existence are being rocked. I'm questioning everything I've ever known."

"I should probably start paying rent for all the space I occupy in your head," said Bruce.

"The tattoo is actually a very sweet phrase," said Clark. "In Kryptonian."

"What does it mean?"

Bruce cleared his throat and shook his head warningly at Clark. Clark grinned.

"It means," Clark said, "My soul is in two halves, and one of them belongs to you."

Bruce buried his head in his hands. Clark laughed. "Like I said. A very sweet phrase."

"You're going to suffer for this," muttered Bruce to him. "I was okay with it, as long as no one knew what it fucking meant."

"Oh stop," said Hal, grinning without shame. "Stop with the toxic masculinity. Just because you have a soppy declaration of love on your abdomen doesn't make you any less of a man." He raised his glass to Bruce in a toast.

Bruce looked at him levelly, and narrowed his eyes. "One of these days, Jordan," he growled, "you will do something, and on that day—"

"Oh, I doubt it," Hal smirked. "I think you've set the bar pretty high."

"Well," said Clark, with a cheeky grin, "Bruce learned his lesson about betting against all of his kids simultaneously, but I would say the punishment was a bit disproportionate to the crime."

Bruce was putting on his t-shirt. "Enough," he said. "No one else finds out, or I will see that you all pay."

"No one else finds out what?" asked Diana from the kitchen door, where she had evidently just arrived. Her arms were crossed against her chest. Barry and Oliver were lined up behind her, with curious expressions.

Zatanna and Hal laughed maliciously. Clark did not look displeased in the slightest.

Bruce's mouth hardened and he stalked off, muttering something about contingency plans. But no one saw the small smile that tucked itself into the corner of his mouth afterwards, when he remembered Clark's face.

Kryptonians. His fingers brushed over the tattoo. And all the ways they love to claim you.

[adieutristana]

getting married headcanons / arcane women x fem! reader

the thought of marriage and weddings have been on my mind for weeks now and i’m not sure why, but i’m a sap like that. i also haven’t been able to find many fics in the arcane tags about marriage so i figured i’d write my own :)

i’m getting to requests as quickly as possible! my first final is this friday and i’m kinda freaking out. things should speed up once im on winter break!

summary: headcanons of what it would be like marrying arcane characters.

characters included: jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn.

tags/warnings: fluff. SO much fluff. mentions of (happy) crying, mentions of drinking, s2 spoilers / mentions of death (caitlyn), slight hurt/comfort

men dni.

jinx;

✧.* you had spoken of marriage before, and every time you did, jinx became incredibly emotional. the girl had never seen marriage as something in the cards for her. a master criminal, a symbol, a living martyr? sure. but never a wife. so when you brought up the fact that you one day wanted to marry her, she was inconsolable in the best way possible.

✧.* to think that someone loved her enough to want to marry her, to want to spend the rest of their life by her side was unreal. she never thought she would have that.

✧.* so naturally, when you got down on one knee in front of jinx and opened a velvet box, presenting her with a shining diamond- jinx was in hysterics. she immediately broke into a fit of tears. blubbering, she nodded frantically, shakily taking your hands in hers. you felt a few tears of your own fall from your eyes as you slipped the ring onto her finger.

✧.* "yes, yes, yes- oh god, yes, i want to marry you. are you sure, though? i mean... will i make a good wife? are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody like me?"

✧.* "yes, jinx. i want all of it. all of the chaos, all of the mischief and adventure. all of you."

✧.* jinx immediately makes it a point to show off her brand-new, shiny ring to absolutely everyone. she’s engaged now, and she’s gonna make it everybody’s problem. she would go into sevika’s usual spot- a local casino just to track her down and shove her hand in her face. sevika would just raise an eyebrow, and look back up at jinx. seemingly unamused.

✧.* “i’m a fiancée now! see?”

✧.* “i can see that.”

✧.* “you can at least act like you’re excited for me!”

✧.* jinx’s favorite part of being engaged is probably planning the wedding. she makes almost all of the decorations herself- centerpieces, messy tablecloths, colorful banners. they’re crude and chaotic, but they’re jinx.

✧.* you do manage to talk her into letting a friend make flower arrangements and cater, though.

✧.* while jinx wants to look nice for her big day, she doesn’t really put that much thought into what she wears, instead wanting to hear your input. if you want her to wear a suit, she’ll do so! if you’d rather see her in a dress, fine by her. however, i can’t see her in an extravagant wedding gown… probably something simple.

✧.* she does insist on wearing her hair in a single braid, though.

✧.* jinx wants a small wedding, at a local empty hall she can decorate however she pleases. close friends and (your) family are the only guests welcomed.

✧.* when the day of the wedding comes, jinx is both ecstatic and a nervous wreck. a million thoughts are swirling through her mind, whispering to her from every angle. what if you leave her at the altar? what if you get cold feet? but the fact that you are there, she knows you’re here for the long haul, is what grounds jinx.

✧.* jinx somehow convinced vi to walk her down the aisle.

✧.* it actually wasn’t hard at all, she’s just exaggerating. despite the strains and tainted history between the two, vi wouldn’t miss the chance to see her little sister get married for anything in the world.

✧.* when she walks down the aisle, she’s the first one at the altar. twiddling with her thumbs, eyes darting around the hall.

✧.* when she finally sees you being walked down, though, jinx isn’t able to hold back her tears. it starts out small, then a dam breaks. you just look so beautiful.

✧.* it comes time for the reading of vows, and jinx’s voice is trembling. bless her, she’s sniffling and trying through shaking hands to unfold the paper.

✧.* “i’m not good with words, you know this. i never have been. but you make it so easy. i’ve never felt more like myself with someone, never felt so loved and cared for. i still wonder why you chose to marry someone so chaotic, a ‘master criminal,’ as the pilties put it. but i can’t explain how grateful i am. you love me for everything that i am, and everything i’m not. it’s you and me, always. i love you.”

✧.* after exchanging rings, jinx is practically pouncing on you to close the distance between you. the exact moment the officiant says ‘you may now kiss.’

✧.* jinx is completely different during the reception. the music selection is so perfectly her, but also so you. she’s (horribly) dancing, tugging your wrists to invite you to dance with her. whooping and singing along to the music. this is the happiest you’ve ever seen jinx. your wife.

vi;

✧.* vi is also someone who never saw herself getting married, honest. she had a prison wife at one point, but that was just to get her through each grueling hour at stillwater. the girl never saw herself being married for real. until she met you.

✧.* she first began calling you her wife playfully. vi is a sucker for pet names, isn’t she?

✧.* “i’m home! how’s my wife doing? i didn’t keep ya waiting long, did i?”

✧.* but the more she called you her wife, and the more positive your reactions to the nickname became, it dawned on her that she actually could see herself marrying you. that option had just never clicked in her mind.

✧.* the two of you never properly talked about marriage per se, but it was silently agreed that it was a possibility.

✧.* however, it still caught you completely off guard when vi proposed to you.

✧.* it was in the middle of a field, which already struck you as odd. vi wasn’t one to go exploring in nature typically, but she said she wanted to see the stars with you, so you didn’t ask any questions.

✧.* you’re side-by-side with vi on a shared blanket, while your girlfriend uses her finger to point out each constellation. she’s wrong about the name of the majority, but you don’t have the heart to tell her that. she’s just too cute.

✧.* however, at the end of the night, when you’re occupied with folding the blanket, you glance over your shoulder to see vi on one knee. your hand claps over your mouth and the blanket falls onto the ground.

✧.* “(y/n), i love you. you know this. i tell you every day. but we’ve been together for a while now… and i think i’m ready to take the next step. i call you my wife anyways, why not make it official?”

✧.* with tears welling in your eyes, you nod again and again. hands covering your mouth and one shakily stretching to let vi slip the ring onto your finger.

✧.* it’s a simple ring; a silver band with a rectangular alexandrite in the center. but you can tell from the shine that vi had been saving for this purchase for a while.

✧.* vi wanted to get a ring worthy of you. a ring that showcased her endless devotion to you, and damn, she did a good job hiding the ring as long as she did.

✧.* vi doesn’t waste any time when it comes to planning. she wants a small wedding, but still intimate and romantic.

✧.* almost everything is done by the two of you, with minimal help from jinx. vi does centerpieces, invitations, and the music, while you take care of the catering, flower arrangements, and guest planning.

✧.* jinx likely just makes a few light coverings to give the illusions of different colored lights during the reception.

✧.* your girlfriend fiancée wears a tailored black suit, with a maroon vest and tie. she put a lot into being able to rent it, so she wants to make sure she looks perfect for her soon-to-be wife!

✧.* the day of the ceremony finally arrives. vi is nervous, but she does her best to keep herself grounded. it isn’t until she’s stood at the altar waiting for her bride that anxiety truly sets in.

✧.* yet, all of that anxiety melts the instant she sees you walking down the aisle. your eyes light and full of adoration, only for her. the smile on your face is enough to light up the entire universe on its own.

✧.* it’s then, when she takes your hand as you step up to the altar, that she begins to feel tears pricking at her eyes.

✧.* vi has her vows memorized. she made a habit of reading them aloud every night at least twenty times, over and over again. but she still manages to stumble over her words; something you can’t help but giggle to.

✧.* “my love for you has always been clear. since the day i met you, you’ve never left my mind, or my side. i love all of your cute habits, all of the things you think i don’t notice, the sound of your voice, your smile, those eyes… i love all of you. i promise to love you now, and forever. you complete me.”

✧.* vi is fully crying by the time she finally gets to cup your cheeks and press her lips to yours, holding the kiss longer than she probably should. but she just can’t help herself. you’re her wife now.

✧.* she doesn’t get shitfaced during the reception, but your wife is definitely pretty drunk on the dance floor. busting out moves you didn’t even know she had.

✧.* she feels free to let loose now, have fun, with you by her side. dancing with her. singing along to the music without a care in the world.

mel;

✧.* with mel, marriage wasn’t really a conversation the two of you had, instead, it was a given from the beginning.

✧.* mel takes relationships very seriously and sees anything casual as a waste of her precious time. marriage is the end goal when mel gets into any relationship, so it wouldn’t be any different for you. she loves you, and you love her, the natural thing to do is to get married.

✧.* however, she is a patient woman and willing to wait for whenever you’re ready to commit to marriage. she is busy after all, she can wait as long as needed.

✧.* when you finally are at a place in your life- financially, mentally, emotionally, to be able to comfortably get married, mel wastes no time proposing to you.

✧.* you figured it would be the other way around, and actually did begin window-shopping for a general idea of what ring you’d purchase for your girlfriend.

✧.* but mel has a way of knowing things, and she tells you that she’ll buy it.

✧.* “i know you’ve been browsing around, here and there for a ring. be patient. i’ll handle that, okay?”

✧.* when mel proposes, it’s in a small, intimate space in her home. the woman goes to plenty of galas and parties as a councilwoman, but she wants this moment to be only between her and her girlfriend.

✧.* warm candlelight fills the room, the scent of peonies and baby’s breath subtle. you’re unsure of what’s going on for such decorations- was there a holiday that you forgot? your anniversary wasn’t for another few months, so surely-

✧.* a soft voice from behind you pulls you back to reality. the sight of mel, on one knee, holding open a violet velvet box.

✧.* “my dearest. i know i tell you regularly, and i know you’re aware, but i love you. i love you more than life itself, and i want nothing more than to make the next commitment to you. i need to marry you, (y/n).”

✧.* and god, the ring itself. the stone is practically a boulder. it’s a gold band with a cluster of diamonds framing one big diamond in the middle. yes, mel is the most wealthy woman in piltover, but she’s truly outdone herself.

✧.* you’re in tears, mumbling out choked ‘yes’s as your now-fiancée beams. she takes extra care, gently slipping the ring onto your finger. letting you know just how beautiful it looks on you.

✧.* as much as mel would love to be thoroughly involved in planning the wedding, duty calls. so you have creative liberty- she trusts you. she also does hire a professional wedding planner to get most of the difficult work done. the last thing mel would want is you worrying your pretty head before marrying her.

✧.* a grand hall, with gold interior, fountains, high ceilings and glass chandeliers was selected for your wedding. a place which many former high-ranking members of piltover’s society have been married in years prior.

✧.* as for a dress, mel chooses a grand, white gown. silk with lace trimmings, and a cathedral-length veil. she doesn’t mind what you wear, the only thing that matters to her is your comfort.

✧.* naturally, the majority of piltover is invited to the wedding. it’s not every day that the most high-ranking woman in your city gets married.

✧.* the day of the wedding comes. mel is an expert when it comes to keeping herself calm on the outside; stoic and poised. but internally, she’s a mess.

✧.* mel medarda, getting married? it’s always been something she’s wanted, but now that it’s happening, it’s hitting her what she’s about to do. yet, that makes it so much more exciting.

✧.* her worry is more about what how she’ll be perceived by the public, and presenting a much more vulnerable side of herself.

✧.* when mel walks down the aisle, bouquet in hand, orchestra plucking strings, she’s taking deep breaths to ground herself. this is really happening.

✧.* she sees you walk toward the altar, and she immediately has to close her eyes. only for a second. you look absolutely divine- it’s overwhelming. so many emotions: love, adoration, gratitude, all swirling in mel’s chest.

✧.* mel has her vows memorized. she’s always had a good memory, but she can’t stop her voice from cracking and breaking every few words. the moment is just all-consuming.

✧.* “my love for you is eternal. it always has been, and it always will be. to be stood before all of piltover, making this promise to you is an opportunity i am honored to have. i promise to fiercely love you for as long as you will allow me to, and as long as you will love me. (y/n). my love, my light, and now my wife.”

✧.* she has to wipe away a few stray tears from her face afterward, but she giggles and tightly embraces you. just before brushing your lips with hers, a moment she wishes she could stay in forever.

✧.* the reception is refined and calm. although others may be getting a bit tipsy, mel would much rather slow-dance with you on the floor. stand beside the cake, champagne in hand, just admiring you for all that you are. she swears you’ve never looked more beautiful.

sevika;

✧.* sevika has never given marriage a second thought. for other girls? sure, but never her. she had a job to do, a city to protect, and that was her priority.

✧.* until you in passing mentioned being old and married in jest. that statement hit sevika like a bag of bricks.

✧.* trying to lay her head down to rest, your voice plays on a loop in sevika’s head. being old and married. married. married to each other.

✧.* she simply can’t shake the thought. again, she had never given marriage a second thought, but sevika could truly see herself marrying you. that was how loyal and devoted she was to you, how much she loved you.

✧.* sevika doesn’t mention it, though. that’s the kind of woman she is, isn’t it? moving in silence, but with intention nonetheless.

✧.* however, one day, sevika slips out of your shared home to take care of ‘business.’

✧.* “be back soon, love. i won’t be long. -sevika”, reads a note left on your dresser.

✧.* where sevika is actually going is to a metal smith in zaun, a humble craftsman in a shared space with various other artists. she wants your ring to be perfectly you, and she wants your ring to be one that nobody else possesses. so custom-made is the only option.

✧.* a thick silver band with an amethyst in the center, and engravings on the inside. it takes about two weeks to finish, with sevika checking in about twice every week in the wee hours of the morning. this is one of the most important projects she’s ever overseen.

✧.* once she finally gets it, sevika will not let go of the ring box. a heavy maple wood box housing the most important possession she has, soon to be yours.

✧.* of course, sevika fiddling with her left pocket doesn’t go unnoticed by you. but she brushes it off, tells you that she wasn’t sure if she left something in there from the day before.

✧.* her proposal is spontaneous. she tries to plan it, but she simply cannot wait any longer. she takes the ring box out of her pocket, presenting it to you and slowly opening it.

✧.* “i don’t… i don’t do this stuff. i don’t know how to, i’m sorry. but i… i love you, and i can’t stop thinking about what you said before. about being old and married. i want that, with you.”

✧.* it’s so rare that sevika is completely unguarded, even in private. she’s a soft lover, but you can tell that right now, all of her walls are down. poor woman, she’s even shaking.

✧.* you just grab her hand, a stray tear falling down your cheek, and whisper, “yes.”

✧.* sevika has no idea where to start when it comes to wedding planning (or event planning to begin with.) so you take on most of the responsibility for planning, occasionally enlisting help from friends.

✧.* of course, sevika is still very involved in terms of observing and helping you make decisions.

✧.* you choose a small hall, enough to hold a handful of guests. sevika doesn’t have many people to invite, granted, but there needs to be enough room for her playing mates at the casino, jinx, and your guests.

✧.* your fiancée chooses a dusty plum suit, tailored to her body and the smallest golden hoops in her ears. (you didn’t even know she had her ears pierced until the day of the wedding.)

✧.* the day comes, and sevika sees you walking down the aisle. she stares at you in nothing short of awe, pure joy. her mouth hangs open.

✧.* when you finally step up to meet her at the altar, it takes everything in the woman to not simply whisk you away then and there. patience, sevika, she tells herself.

✧.* she has her vows written down, despite trying to memorize them. she’s just filled with too many emotions. nerves, mostly.

✧.* “standing here now, i realize more than ever how much i love you. you’ve brought something to my life i never thought i’d feel: unconditional, unwavering love. i don’t know how you do it, but you make every day better than the last. you’ve gotten through to my heart. i swear to love you, to be loyal to you, and to protect you.”

✧.* she doesn’t even wait for the officiant to say that you may kiss, she’s immediately closing the distance between you as soon as you finish exchanging vows, kissing her wife again, and again, and again.

✧.* sevika doesn’t do much during the reception, mostly drinking little sips of whine and gazing at you with that longing expression you’ve come to know. if you try to drag her out onto the floor to dance with you, she’ll playfully groan and roll her eyes. but you know she loves it. she loves you.

✧.* “come on, sev, dance with me!”

✧.* “i don’t dance.”

✧.* “well, you do now!”

caitlyn;

✧.* the topic of marriage is a difficult one for caitlyn. as a member of one of the highest-ranking houses in piltover, it’s an expectation that she will one day marry. not necessarily from her parents, but from piltover and tradition.

✧.* honestly, she was indifferent. if she found someone she’d like to marry, great. but if not, she wasn’t going to hold her breath or beat herself up over it.

✧.* when you came into her life, caitlyn could feel her perception of marriage slowly changing. it was still indifferent at best, but she now understood why marriage was so common. why it was a thing, even. her love for you grew stronger by the day, and she wouldn’t be opposed to marriage- if it was you.

✧.* not married because she has to be, but because she wants to be.

✧.* caitlyn is transparent about all of this with you, telling you that while she’s okay with the idea of marriage, she doesn’t expect it. it’s the least she can do: be honest.

✧.* ultimately, the decision is in your hands, and you decide that you undoubtedly want caitlyn to be your wife.

✧.* so you browse every single jeweler in both piltover and the undercity. looking for any hidden gems amongst them. independent jewelers, chains, even heirlooms from your family. but in your search, you find a sole jewelry dealer in the undercity. selling a silver engagement ring with sapphire clusters that perfectly match caitlyn’s eyes.

✧.* you’re in the family’s garden, cait looking off into the distance. observing… the leaves, the flowers, the way the light hits them? you’re unsure, but you decide now is your opportunity.

✧.* “caitlyn.”

✧.* caitlyn quickly turns her head to you, looking the slightest bit concerned. “hm?”

✧.* that’s when you drop to one knee and take out a ring box. caitlyn’s eyes blow wide, both hands clapping over her mouth. she can’t believe the scene that’s playing out in front of her.

✧.* “i can’t contain myself anymore. caitlyn, the time i’ve had with you has been wonderful. the most amazing time of my life. you are the epitome of grace and diligence, consistently leading. you bring out the best in me day after day, and my life feels complete with you in it. caitlyn kiramman, will you marry me?”

✧.* bless caitlyn, she’s trying so hard to keep the tears threatening to spill at bay. she only nods, once, then twice, then over and over before bringing you into a deep kiss.

✧.* when you slip the ring onto her finger, you wish you could freeze time and frame this particular moment. the adoration in the woman’s eyes is one you can’t describe.

✧.* when it comes to wedding planning, cait wants to be as involved as possible. of course, she has a job to do, so that does prolong the planning. but patience is a virtue she learned early, so she doesn’t mind.

✧.* “what’s another few months? we have all the time in the world, dear.”

✧.* the two of you choose to have a small and intimate wedding, inviting her father, a few council members, and anyone you’d like to invite.

✧.* caitlyn chooses a sleek v-neck black dress, fitted to her form with a long train. she opts to wear a small tiara instead of a veil.

✧.* upon further examination, you notice that it’s the very tiara cassandra wore on her wedding day. silver, with small rubies delicately placed. caitlyn honoring her mother in this way brought a whirlwind of emotions to you, but you knew she would be happy for her daughter.

✧.* and for that very reason, among many others, caitlyn’s wedding day is an emotional one for her. she’s elated to be finally marrying the woman she loves, but she wishes more than anything that her mother could be there to see it.

✧.* seeing cait walk down the aisle does wonders to you. waiting at the altar for her was excruciating as is, but you almost have to pick your jaw up off the floor as your fiancée makes her way closer and closer to you. she looks otherworldly.

✧.* she chuckles and beams at you once she steps up to the altar. taking a moment to just admire you. she reaches a slim hand out to gently tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in her hand for only a moment. her sapphire eyes full of adoration.

✧.* caitlyn has her vows written down, in that annoyingly perfect penmanship of hers. she reads from the paper, glancing up at you constantly while having to wipe her eyes.

✧.* “(y/n), i didn’t know if this day would ever come. but i’m so glad that it has. my love for you knows no bounds, it festers and grows and builds onto itself every day. it’s exhilarating, as is every day by your side. to call myself your wife will be my greatest honor. and to welcome you into the kiramann family, an even greater honor.”

✧.* she’s fully crying by the time she finishes reading out her vows, looking up at you with the best smile that she can muster. she’s so overcome with love, she can’t help it.

✧.* the moment the officiant says you may kiss, caitlyn is placing one hand firmly on your waist and the other wraps around your lower back. holding you close and brushing her lips against yours.

✧.* cait’s reception is rather relaxed, with a selection of mostly classical and contemporary music playing quietly over speakers. however, she insists on having several slow dances with you. she’s surprisingly good, which makes you suspect she’s experienced with this.

✧.* guiding you back and forth with expertise, her head buried into the crook of your neck. holding you impossibly close to her as she hums in contentment.

[ckret2]

Bill hates it when people mention Euclydia. Everyone thinks it's because he doesn't want to hear his home's real name; it's actually the opposite.

Here, have some fic. The naming of Euclydia (among other things), the birth of the Nightmare Realm, and the Axolotl planting the seeds of a trillion-year-long plan to keep Bill from the death penalty.

This is the 🎉FINAL PART🎉 of a 9-part plot about the Axolotl in the aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. If you wanna read the others (or look at the art), here's one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight.

####

With the immediate crisis averted and the triangle, for the moment, not attempting to invade and/or demolish the multiverse, most of the god militia pulled back. A group remained stationed near the unstable border between dimensions to watch the triangle; but the less powerful gods could trickle back in to get back to their own work, first and foremost the construction workers doing emergency repairs to reformat and stabilize the neighboring dimensions.

The Axolotl—who, he suspected, would have been arrested himself for interfering if they weren't still focused on the triangle—wove through the crowd until he found the Time Giant; and then swam angrily up to her and demanded, "You used me as a distraction?"

She turned a stone-hard look on him. "That was the agreement."

"No! The agreement was that I'd try to talk him down! We'd only resort to distracting him if I couldn't get through to him!"

"Ya didn't get through to him." The Time Giant nodded at the Axolotl's burned side. "Look at you. Your leg's off."

He looked down at his missing foreleg. He'd been so distracted by the near end of the multiverse, he'd barely noticed the pain. "It's just a flesh wound," he insisted. "I'm an axolotl, it'll grow back!"

She shook her head.

"I would have gotten through to him! You saw me talk him down after an entire army threatened him!" the Axolotl said. "What if I had succeeded, and when we left my tank he found out you already wrote him off?! You never gave me a chance—"

"We did give you a chance," she said testily, "and I saw that you weren't gonna succeed." She hooked a thumb over her belt and tapped a finger on her time tape; the stylized symbol of the Time Giants glowed on the side, an unsubtle reminder that she knew what was coming far better than he did. "So I did my damn job."

So she'd sent him in already knowing that he would fail. The Axolotl was speechless for a second. "But—you couldn't know—I got so close, if I'd had just one more try to talk to him..."

"If I'd let you, I'm sure you woulda kept trying until the end of time," she said. "You seem like a good guy, Ax—but you can't save everyone." She pushed past him to get to work. "There's first aid near where Dimension 2 Gamma was. Get those burns looked at."

"They're fine."

She was wrong. He could save everyone. Because he wouldn't stop until he did.

####

"You're replacing it?" the triangle asked petulantly.

"I'm not talking to you," VENDOR said, turned away from the triangle. "You had your chance at diplomacy and you blew it." The crablike cop was holding up a clipboard with some paperwork for VENDOR to review, and didn't look pleased to have been temporarily reduced to a secretary.

"I'm just asking a question!"

"We're not speaking."

At the top of his lungs—which was, it turned out, very loud and very shrill—the triangle said in the direction of the reporters, "Oh wow, that's a crazy thing to say about Lady Morgenstern! And talk about obscene! She'd be furious if she could hear that—!"

"Shhhhh!" VENDOR rounded angrily on the triangle. "You don't even know who she is!"

"I know her name and I'm not afraid to use it," the triangle said. "You're really replacing my dimension?"

"If I can be left alone long enough to finish signing the authorization paperwork," VENDOR muttered. "The construction crew's already out here and waiting, so if you don't mind..."

"It just seems pretty tacky, replacing a universe just like that." The triangle spoke like dimension he was talking about was just a pawn to be used in a trivial argument about etiquette, rather than everyone and everything he'd ever known. "No memorial or anything? Yeesh."

"So hold a memorial for it," VENDOR said. "We don't have any choice, we have to repair all the fallen walls to keep reality stable. If you'd let us into your hovel to sweep up what's left of your old dimension, it could have at least been incorporated into the new one."

The triangle half reached for his hat, stopped himself, and curled his hand into a fist and thrust it down at his side. "Over my dead body," he said. "Which I'm pretty sure got incinerated! So that means never!"

"You're pretty sure?" VENDOR asked archly.

"It... I had more important stuff to take care of, okay? I'm a busy guy!"

"I'm sure," VENDOR said. "Well, it's too late for any cleanup operations anyway. Enjoy rotting away in your landfill."

"Wow, that's how you talk to a refugee from the biggest disaster ever?" The triangle laughed. "Hey, bet the muckrakers over there would love to hear how sympathetic you are to the—what'd you say I am—the 'last surviving soul from my dimension'—?"

"Let's find somewhere quieter to work," VENDOR said to the cop.

He looked relieved "You got it."

As VENDOR and THEIR impromptu secretary moved away from Dimension Zero, the triangle shouted after THEM, "Hey! How do I vote for Municipalitron!"

Volcanoes on several of VENDOR's planets erupted. THEY whipped around to face the triangle. "You don't! You aren't in my district!"

"Well, whose district am I in? This Morgenstern creep you keep bringing up?" the triangle asked. "How's voting work, do you toss a ballot across the border and I toss it back—?"

"You're not in anyone's district! If you were, you'd have been arrested already!"

The triangle stared in dumb shock. "Wait, so I don't get to vote for which of you idiots I have to deal with?" He hollered at VENDOR's retreating back, "That's fascism!"

Fuming, VENDOR passed the Axolotl muttering under THEIR breath about showing the triangle fascism; then stopped, abruptly turned to face him, and snapped, "You."

"You," the Axolotl agreed.

"You're an optimistic fool."

Yes, well, he knew that already. He'd been voted Most Adorably Idealistic in his law school yearbook for a reason. "I don't think I like you, either."

"No one does." THEIR camera whirred irritably as they looked the Axolotl up and down. "What are you doing here, anyway? I assumed you'd been sent to figure out who's liable for this whole mess—but no, you only handle afterlife cases, don't you? Who sent you?"

The Axolotl was silent.

Furiously, VENDOR said, "Are you serious?! We could have avoided half this mess if it weren't for you!"

"If it weren't for me, he'd have knocked down the multiverse before anyone realized he's setting the fires," the Axolotl snapped. "And if you had figured that much out, you'd have gotten your cops killed before anyone realized he's a god."

"The professionals here to handle the situation could have figured it out faster if you weren't derailing their investigations," VENDOR snarled. "And arguing about jurisdiction! We could have arrested that that little troublemaker the moment we figured out just what he's done—"

"Right after you arrested that kid with the spray can who didn't have anything to do with this?"

THEY growled in frustration. "Forget it! I hope you're happy with your genocidal pal over there—you seem about as concerned with public safety as he is." THEY stormed off, the cop with THEIR paperwork chasing after THEM.

The Axolotl watched VENDOR go; then turned to look ruefully toward Dimension Zero.

When the triangle caught his gaze, he formed a heart with his fingers over his top point and called out, gleefully singsong, "Genocide paaals!"

It wasn't exactly the reaction he'd hoped for.

####

The Axolotl was attempting to distract himself from scratching his itchy leg while it regrew by eavesdropping on the triangle. It seemed like the triangle was entertaining himself by darting around the border of Dimension Zero to start arguments with anybody he happened to recognize (except the Axolotl, whom he seemed to be trying to ignore outside of throwing a few odd quips at him.) At the moment, the triangle and the Time Giant were hollering at each other about her decision to reinforce the second dimensions by making them splinter into multiple timelines.

"So you're really willing to sacrifice zillions of lives by letting me incinerate all their parallel timelines?" The triangle laughed in disbelief. "And everyone here thinks I'm the killer! That's not a good look for you, buddy!"

She glanced up from a table full of paperwork to give him a totally neutral look. "You're the one who's willing to incinerate them. You could not do that."

"When I do it, it's justified."

The Axolotl was distracted from the argument as the storm cloud with the apoc agents gloomily blew past him. It was talking into a walkie-talkie as it went: "Yeah, I know he's a nut. But he's a nut that can't throw fireballs outside the border of his dimension, and I've got to finish this report before we can get outta here." He sighed at whatever the walkie-talkie said in response, and said, "Yeah. We'll rendezvous after I have his testimony." It let its tornado suck the walkie-talkie back in and drifted to the Time Giant. "Mind if I steal your conversation partner for a minute? ATTF business."

She grabbed a binder to try to shield her papers from the worst of the storm's rain. "Please. Take him."

"Thanks." It floated closer to Dimension Zero and raised its voice to bark, "Hey! Magister Mentium!"

The triangle looked over mistrustfully. "What?" As he'd talked to the Time Giant, he'd been playing with the fabric of reality, creating a circle out of raw... stuff. The Axolotl couldn't tell what the stuff was, but it looked like it was some sort of animal tissue, except far too uncannily homogeneous to be natural, disturbing in its uniformity. Like a slice of baloney. When he saw who'd called out to him, he rolled his eye and turned his attention to extruding the circle into a baloney cylinder. "Heeey, Officer Fun Police! Here to rain on my parade again?"

"Rain jokes aren't as funny as you think they are," it said. "No, this is Apocalyptic Threat Task Force business."

The triangle's eye narrowed. "What business? Are you gonna complain about my renovations again?"

"No. If you're not about to knock reality down, I don't care what you do anymore," the cloud said. "It's not my business to punish anybody for previous apocalypses, I just want to prevent future ones. Answer a few questions for our incident report and I'll be out of your life." There was an implicit and you'll be out of mine in its tone.

"All right," the triangle said dubiously. "Fffine. Then we're on the same side. I'm not fond of apocalypses either."

It paused like it wanted to argue with that claim, but said, "Good enough for me." It pulled out the soggy notepad it had been using all day, flipped through it, couldn't find a free page, and with a sigh pulled out a tape recorder instead. "You're from Dimension 2 Delta, right?"

"If you say so," the triangle said, lifting his hands in a shrug. "You guys are the ones who named my dimension."

"Uh-huh." Under its breath, the cloud muttered, "Not exactly a name, but... If you're from 2Δ, that makes you the only direct witness to how your universe was destroyed."

The triangle paused. "Mm."

"Can you explain what happened, exactly?" When the triangle didn't respond, the cloud added, "I'm not gonna arrest you for it. If we want to have a chance of stopping something like this from happening in the future, we need to know what happened here."

"Uhhh, yyyeah. Suuure," the triangle said.  It wasn't clear exactly how Dimension Zero rearranged, but the view of the eternal dance party simply vanished. There was no sign of the millions of shapes. The music had fallen near silent, just a constant distant low thumping noise, like your heartbeat in your ears; quiet enough that it couldn't drown out the whispery hiss leaking out of Dimension Zero. "It's not like I have anything to hide." Whatever he was about to say, it seemed like he wanted to hide it from his party prisoners, at least.

A bolt of lightning shot through the storm's recorder, turning it on. "You said you were an active participant in the end of the world, right?"

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" He eyed the recorder suspiciously. "What is this, some trick to try to get a confession out of me?"

"Again, I'm not a cop. And you already confessed in front of a thousand reporters," the storm said. "If you were involved, you've got a different perspective than some guy ten superclusters away who only witnessed it, that's the only reason it matters."

"Oh," the triangle said. "Then—yeah, I was there for the whole thing. Start to finish."

"Great," the storm said gruffly. "Then could you explain in your own words what happened when the universe ended and, to the best of your knowledge, what caused it."

"Oh. Yeah. Right. The cause," the triangle said. "It... it was a—monster."

"I thought you said you—"

"It was a monster," the triangle said, more confidently now.

The cloud hesitated. "All right," it said. "Tell me what happened."

The triangle took a deep breath. "Okay. So. It uh—started with the third dimension."

"The monster came from the third dimension?"

"No, we were going to the third dimension. But we needed—"

The hissing background static exploded into a roar.

The void filled with the staticky screams of countless dead voices, pleading for mercy, pleading for it to stop. Death rattles, howls of agony, wails of terror. Most of the crowd of gods outside Dimension Zero fell silent, turning to stare at the disembodied hysterical shrieks.

One voice, strained with pain, rose above the cacophony, crackling, "Emergency services! We need medical assistance! Ambulances, or—please—I don't know what happened—it's like everyone's internal organs spontaneously ruptured, there's—there's hundreds of people here! Some of them are missing parts of their body, they just—disappeared! I'm hurt too, I don't know what it is—I can feel it inside me—"

A second voice replied, "We can't send assistance. Everyone's bleeding, the whole city's dying! We can't help you!"

Whatever the triangle said was lost beneath the roar. He didn't even seem to notice it. His eye was filled with static. The word "blood" was just barely audible. The word "mandibles."

Another voice, trying to sound professional, trying to sound authoritative, but trembling with fear, "This is an emergency announcement! This announcement will not repeat! The fire can transmit over radio waves and sound waves! Turn off all radios and TVs! Turn off all radios and TVs and destroy any wireless phones and pagers! Do NOT listen to the screams! Again, the fire is transmitting over radio waves, this message will not repeat, destroy your radio and warn your neighbors!"

The Axolotl saw images flash in the triangle's eye, too fast for him to mentally process one before another ten had gone by: a plane like infinitely thin glass with tiny delicate shapes painted on its surface shattering in a rolling wave; a bleeding body reduced to shards and then the shards reduced to chips and then chips reduced to dust; fire spitting and crackling into every crack split in existence; a light shaped like a triangle. (Was that the light that had blinded the Oracle's seer?)

Another voice gasping, "It's doing something to the gravity, I-I don't understand—we don't even have the equipment to read... it's like gravity's turned in a direction that doesn't exist! Does anyone know how to stop it?! Our universe is tearing ap—" and the words were cut off with a scream; and the scream was cut off with a sudden silence that was swallowed whole by the other voices.

The triangle had peeled open, shining golden panels stretching out like petals, his mandibles unhinged and curling around his eye in a ring of teeth, like a blooming carnivorous flower, sun-soaked and mesmerizing. God, he was so bright. He shot light in every direction like an explosion that never ended. Like a star trapped in the moment of supernova.

Another voice, shaking with rage, "Did you hear that, you monster?! I told you we weren't ready yet! Why didn't you listen?! I can see the destruction from here—the sky's on fire, everything is burning. How could this happen?! YOU killed them all—" and the rage cracked, revealing the fear and grief just barely hidden underneath, "Remember us. If you're the only one left, you have to remember us. Please—"

The static snapped off; the triangle's body snapped back into place; his eye snapped back into focus; "—and then they appointed me their god," he said cheerfully, "and here we are!"

And with only a couple more dying cries of pain and pleas for help, the voices fell back to their constant background whisper.

The storm cloud had started sleeting.

The Axolotl had stopped breathing. Just the sound of the carnage was enough to make him sick.

But the triangle sounded perfectly at ease—more than he had before he'd answered the cloud's question. "So is that all you needed?" He'd resumed playing with the cylinder of meat he'd been constructing—extruding it further, and then, dissatisfied with the results, collapsing it back into a circle.

His hands were trembling as he messed with the cylinder. There was a tightness around his eye.

"What..." The storm cloud let out a low rumble of thunder, ahem, "what... did you say about blood? I didn't catch it."

The triangle blinked blankly at the storm. "I didn't say anything about blood."

It paused.  "All right, then—what about the other voices? Who were they?"

"What voices?"

The storm stared at the triangle, baffled sunbeam fixed on him; then swung the sunbeam over to the Axolotl. "You heard—?"

So his eavesdropping had been noticed. He nodded. Oh, he heard, all right.

The triangle glanced between them. "I think you guys are hearing voices," he said. "The only one talking here is me."

He said it like he meant it. The Axolotl was sure he did. Had he not heard the voices?

"Never mind, forget it," the cloud said uneasily. "You said someone... Who appointed you their god?"

"Uhhh..." the triangle tilted to the side as he tried to think. "Pretty much all my people? Yeah. It was everyone!"

"Your people? From your universe?"

"Yup!"

"They didn't appoint you their god," the cloud said. "They're all dead."

The triangle scoffed. "I don't know what you're talking about. They're all in here with me!"

"You mean the mortals from the other universes?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the triangle repeated, a little slower, warningly. "They're all from my universe."

For a moment, the cloud just stared at him, at a loss. It glanced again toward the Axolotl. The Axolotl had nothing to offer it.

"Is that everything?" The triangle tried to keep his voice peppy, but there was an edge of exhaustion that hadn't been there earlier. (Yeah, him and everyone else here.)

"I guess that wraps up that part of the questionnaire," the cloud muttered uneasily, trying to recover its professional tone. "Just a couple more questions. I need your name. For the report."

Dimension Zero's hissing background static rose again: "The murderer... The name of the murderer... is—"

"NOBODY ASKED YOU!" The triangle turned and chucked the cylinder he'd been working on into the Dream Realm. He grumbled under his breath, created another circle, and started stretching it out again.

The triangle could hear the voices. Then why hadn't he been able to hear them earlier? Unless he had been able to hear them—and he just... couldn't remember that he'd heard them?

Even if the Axolotl hadn't known about the incomparable trauma the triangle had survived/caused, it would be pretty obvious by now that something was going terribly wrong inside his head. Contradictory stories about his own reality, memories he refused to remember, facts he simply set aside as not relevant. Was he refusing to face them, or was he unable?

From their conversation in the Axolotl's tank, he thought the triangle understood more than he was willing to admit. But the Axolotl might be the only one who knew that.

And that was beginning to give the Axolotl an idea.

"Just—put me down as the Magister Mentium, okay?" the triangle told the cloud. "Everyone'll know who you're talking about."

"If you say so," said the cloud. "What was your universe's name?"

"Its name?" The triangle glanced up from his new cylinder and gave the cloud a perplexed look. "You asked already. You said it's Dimension 2 Delta."

"That's its serial number. Every dimension's assigned one at its Big Bang. But it's standard to let a dimension's own residents choose its name. It makes it more personal." The cloud sounded as though it had memorized this explanation. The Axolotl wondered how many times it had had to take statements from a destroyed dimension's grieving survivors. He hoped it usually got to give this spiel to witnesses of a narrowly averted apocalypse. "Typically the first explorers to leave their dimension get to name it; but the only person ever known to leave 2Δ is... you."

"Oh," he said. "Right."

"So, what did your people name your universe?"

He stared at the storm like it was stupid. "We called it... the universe?"

"Everyone calls their universe The Universe," the cloud said. "Followed by The World, The Dimension, Reality, and Home. They're all taken, come up with something else."

"Seriously? You're making me name my whole universe and now you're telling me how to name it?"

"They're not my rules," the cloud said. "If you don't have a native name, we usually name a dimension after the first known explorer to leave it. Was that you?"

The triangle was quiet for an uncomfortably long moment. His gaze twitched away; and for a moment the Axolotl thought he saw another image flash in his eye: a triangle floating in space, eerily serene, dead. His voice was small when he said, "No."

Surprised lightning quietly flashed in the storm's cloud. "Oh. Do you know the name of the first?"

"Of course I do. He's my..." He stopped himself. He said, too evenly, "His name is Euclid."

Obviously, the triangle wasn't speaking a language that can be spoken with human mouths or written with human symbols. "Euclid" is a stand-in word for an unpronounceable name; trying to say the name without the right anatomy—without even the right laws of physics and sound waves—would only mangle it.

But the rest of the multiverse didn't have the right physics or anatomy either. "Euclid," the cloud repeated, mangling it. The triangle winced. "Fine. How's Euclydia sound?"

"It sounds stupid," the triangle said.

"Well, it's your dimension. Do you have a better suggestion?"

"I..." The triangle floundered helplessly. "That... Okay hold on, I've had a very long..." He floundered again as he tried to figure exactly what kind of time span he'd been having a long one of.

"If you want me to come back later..." said the cloud, who very obviously did not want to have to come back later.

"I don't knowww, gimme a second," the triangle whined. "I've never thought about a universe having a name! It's—it's fine. Euclydia's fine."

"If you're sure—?"

"Of course I'm sure," the triangle snapped. "Euclydia. Yeah. Great. Fine."

"All right." The cloud zapped its tape recorder, turning it off. "Thanks for your time."

As it started to hover off, the triangle said, "Hold on! I answered your questions, you owe me some."

The eye of the storm reluctantly swung back toward the triangle. "What?"

He held up the shape he'd been extruding. "What do you call this... 3D circle thing?"

The sunbeam swept over it. "A cylinder?"

The triangle pointed toward VENDOR, who was out at the edge of the crowd answering the questions of some reporters who'd caught THEM attempting to slink away from the scene. "And what are the 3D circle things Coin Slot over there is hauling around?"

It glanced at VENDOR's stock of planets. "Spheres."

The triangle shook his cylinder. "Well, what am I doing wrong, then!"

"I don't know, math's not my thing," the cloud said. "Try rotating it."

The triangle waited until the cloud had moved on; then created another circle, extruded it again, but curled the extrusion around into a circle. He ended up with a shape like a donut. He said, quietly, "Oo-oo-ooh." He sounded impressed.

The Axolotl swam up alongside the storm cloud as it left. "So. Find out what you wanted to know?"

The cloud laughed ruefully.

That was what he thought. "Are the interviews you've been taking classified?"

"No, our reports are open to the public. Anyone can request copies. The database is a nightmare to navigate, though."

"Let me know who to contact for the records on this incident. Especially the witness testimonies."

"I take it you're also planning to go through that noise we just heard with a fine-tooth comb?"

"That's hardly the start of it."

If the Axolotl had been convinced of anything during all his conversations with the triangle today, it was that the triangle could barely begin to grasp just what it was he'd done to his dimension and all the dimensions around it—and he did a very poor job of communicating what he did grasp.

And if the Axolotl could prove that—if he could build a convincing argument that the triangle hadn't understood what he'd done, psychologically couldn't understand, that even now he only had the fuzziest comprehension of what he was involved in...

Someday, that triangle's sins would catch up to him. Someday, he would be in the hands of the gods of death and justice, and they would have to decide what fate his actions had earned. And when that day came, it would be the Axolotl's job to ensure that the triangle didn't end up damned or erased from existence.

As it was now, that triangle didn't stand a chance in the multiverse of being found innocent. But there was more than one way to avoid a "guilty" verdict.

By the time the triangle stood before a judge, the Axolotl would make sure that the right laws were in place for him to do what he wanted to do.

####

Where there had been swarms of firefighters earlier, now the scene swarmed with construction workers, working on the emergency genesis of over half a dozen replacement universes—carefully, so that the big bangs didn't do any further damage to an already unstable situation; but quickly. Already every destroyed one-dimensional universe had been replaced. Several half-burned dimensions had been supplanted with oddly-shaped undersized universes that met at the older universes' burned edges; jagged 1D dimensions sealed the gaps between these dimensions like a line of solder between two panes of stained glass.

By now, the flat planes and edges surrounded the zeroth dimension like the sleek shifting surfaces of an infinity-sided die; all except for one last missing wall in the middle of the damage.

Dimension 2 Delta. "Euclydia."

The construction workers were already setting up the scaffolding and equipment to set off another big bang.

As the Axolotl looked at the copious warning signs around the construction site—"DANGER! COSMIC EXPLOSIVES" "GENESIS IN PROGRESS"—the specialized equipment, the veritable army of workers, the mountain of papers the Time Giant had been reviewing earlier to ensure that everything was up to code and nothing would go wrong... he couldn't help but think of the triangle holding the seed of a big bang in his bare glowing hand, threatening to set it off right there. The Axolotl had known it was foolish, but seeing all the workers' preparations put just how reckless it was into perspective. Like a toddler holding a stick of TNT over a campfire.

He spotted the Time Giant among the workers, flickering back and forth across the scene as she tried to literally be multiple places at the same time. When she settled down for a moment over a worktable to double check a pile of blueprints and forms and calculations and even more paperwork, she caught sight of the Axolotl passing by, and tipped her chin up at him in greeting.

He paused, then nodded back to her. No hard feelings. He was just following his principles; and she was just doing her job. They'd each found their own way to help hold up the multiverse.

"Hey," she called out, and gestured for him to come over. As he did, she said, "Your leg's healing nicely."

He glanced down at it. His new toes were stubby, but at least they were back. "I don't like being uneven." He'd take a few more days on his tail. "I'll probably pay for it tomorrow, though." When he finally got home, he'd have to see if he could cancel his morning appointments.

"Reckon we'll all be feeling this tomorrow." She tilted her head toward Dimension Zero. "I've got a message for the god of DIY over there. I think you're the only one he likes—you mind carrying it over?"

####

It wasn't hard to find the triangle; he was leaning against the membrane around the zeroth dimension, moodily staring out at the third. He seemed to be gazing past all the gods, unfazed by their hubbub. The Axolotl tried to see what he was looking at, and didn't spot anything of note. As far as he could tell, the triangle might as well just be stargazing.

Along with the police tape and the ATTF barrier and the long-forgotten cordons to hold off the reporters, there was now an additional grid of orange cones set up blocking anyone from getting too close to the destroyed wall and the construction site. The Axolotl glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention before he slipped past the cones and swam up to the triangle.

When he approached, the triangle was muttering under his breath: "Stupid, now it sounds like an STD. I should've named it something cooler. Like... Triangletopia. Or the Party Plane. Or Margaritaville—I bet no one's ever used that one before..."

"Magister," the Axolotl said.

The triangle's eye snapped to him. "Hey, look at that! The pompous psycho is back! If you're even thinking about sticking me back in your 'office'—"

The Axolotl held up his forelegs appeasingly. "I'm not." He wasn't even crossing the threshold into the triangle's turf. "This is the last time I'll speak to you today."

"Finally, some good news," the triangle grumbled. "What do you w—ha! Ah-haha! I caught myself, that one didn't count."

The Axolotl decided not to count it. "The Time Giant wanted you to know they're about to set off the big bang where Dimension 2 Delta used to be. You probably don't want to be too close to the wall when it goes up."

The triangle's expression darkened; but he just said, "All right. Fine. Have fun. Not my problem! Just keep the construction noises down."

That was all he'd been sent to tell the triangle; but he added, "If you ever want to leave your dream realm, this is your last chance."

The triangle groaned. "This again? Listen, frills, I already told you I'm not interested! And you don't have the right to drag me out, this is my sovereign god territory—"

"I'm not threatening to," the Axolotl said gently. "I just—wanted to make sure you know. If you change your mind later, you physically won't be able to leave."

That gave the triangle pause. "I... don't see why not."

"For something to pass from one dimension to another, it needs a large enough hole to pass through," the Axolotl said. "For a person carrying the mass and energy of an entire universe to cross from one dimension to another... they need a hole the size of a universe. The missing wall where 2Δ was is the size your universe used to be. And now... it's the only exit big enough for you to pass through. Do you understand?"

The triangle stared at him silently. There was that hard, heavy look in his eye. It was awful to see. He did understand.

"If you don't come now..."

"We came up with a way to fit my entire universe into this one," the triangle said. "If I ever want to leave, we'll invent a way to get it back out."

"Your universe didn't fit in without incinerating it."

The triangle tapped the side of his hat with a finger; somewhere inside it was the speck that used to be his universe—the seed of a big bang. "It's travel-sized now. The next time will be easier."

For the first time since seeing the awful ruin of Dimension 2 Delta, the Axolotl forced himself to turn his fearful gaze chronologically forward. He squinted toward the hazy, far-flung future; and then he gave the triangle, in the present, a sorrowful look. "No, it won't," he said. "But I'll do what I can for you."

The triangle stared sullenly at him, unmoved by the offer. "I don't see what you're getting out of helping me. Everyone else is dying to send me to ghost jail or however things work around here."

"Isn't it enough to help you just because you exist and that makes you worth it?"

"If you ever, ever say something like that again, I'll kill you. I will find a way."

He wasn't particularly surprised. But that was truly what the Axolotl believed—and believed strongly enough to guide everything else he did. 

The things this triangle had done were too ghastly for even an ancient, experienced god to fully wrap his head around. Without exaggeration, he might have done the worst thing anyone anywhere in the multiverse had ever done.

But.

But if the Axolotl could prove that he, the worst person ever, was worth giving a second chance—that he could change, that he could show remorse for what he'd done, that he could be a force for good in the multiverse... then he would have proven that everyone, no matter what, was worth it.

The Axolotl had been voted Most Adorably Idealistic, but he'd never been called soft. His ideals were harder than diamond and sharper than obsidian. He hadn't decided to protect the triangle in spite of the impact that might have on the multiverse; he was protecting him because of the impact it could have. 

The Axolotl was a god of justice, of monsters, of second chances, and through his actions he could shape what justice meant throughout the multiverse as if he were sculpting clay; and he thought a small, sharp little equilateral triangle would make a perfect sculpting tool.

"In truth, I just don't believe in punishment. Not even for you." The Axolotl lay a forefoot on Dimension Zero's bubble. "But I don't see why you trust me." Because it was clear the triangle did. He'd trusted the Axolotl to judge the character of the other gods. He'd kept looking toward him like he was trying to gauge his own situation based on the Axolotl's reaction to it. He'd admitted the truth about the remains of his universe and his plans for it. It seemed like the Axolotl was the only one the triangle trusted in all this mess.

The triangle thought that over; then said, "You seem like a grade-A sucker."

He laughed. "I'll try to live up to your opinion of me." He had a guess what kind of people this triangle thought were suckers. The charitable; the caring. The people who didn't think that seeing the worth in everyone was a kind of illness.

"You should know, I intend to legally register my tank as a purgatory. I'll probably submit my application before the end of the week. If you claim it as your afterlife, you'll be transferred to my tank for holding while awaiting trial to decide your final afterlife."

"Ugh, now it all makes sense: you're starting a cult! I don't wanna join your cult, frills—I've got my own."

"But you do want to go straight to your lawyer's office if you're about to go on trial for your sins," the Axolotl said pointedly. "I don't intend to house anyone in my tank permanently. It will just be a transfer place for clients preparing for trial or figuring out where they want to go next—another afterlife, reincarnation... You're already technically dead; you can request at any time to come to my tank, and you'll be there."

"Sounds great for your other clients! But I'm not planning to go on trial and I don't want to be in an afterlife," the triangle said testily. "I'm pretty sure we've been over this!"

"I know you don't. I wish you didn't have to face it. But when you have no choice," the Axolotl said. "When you need it. When your time comes to burn like your people—" (the triangle flinched) "—call me. I'll offer you a second chance at any time."

"Low blow," the triangle muttered. "Don't put yourself out on my account. I'll be fine by myself."

"I'm sure." The Axolotl suspected he'd be putting himself out on the triangle's account for a long time. "What's your name? Your real name."

The background hiss of cosmic noise roared louder. The echoes of billions of erased ghosts said, "THE NAME OF THE MURDERER IS—"

With a flinch, the triangle cranked the distant dance music louder so it spilled cacophonously out of Dimension Zero again. It was too late, though. The Axolotl had heard the triangle's real name.

He pretended he hadn't. He waited.

The triangle didn't answer for a long moment. "You probably wouldn't be able to pronounce it."

"Maybe not." He'd seen how the triangle had winced hearing the cloud try to pronounce the name of some other shape. "I still want to know who you are."

He wrestled with his words; then finally gave up and asked his question. "What... is this place? We're not in the third dimension. When I—freed my dimension, I expected to go up; but we went... down. I didn't know there was a down." He confessed his ignorance in a near whisper, almost drowned out by his own music.

"You're in Dimension Zero." But that wasn't right. Dimension Zero was—should be—a point, and it's impossible to be "in" a point. A point simply is. "You are Dimension Zero."

The triangle said, "Then call me King Zero."

The Axolotl considered that. "Yes," he said. "I think that is your name."

Someone shouted, "Clear the way!" One worker at the construction site was looking directly at the Axolotl. "That means you! Unless you wanna be boiled frog legs!"

"I'm not a frog," the Axolotl muttered; but, he turned one last time to newly-crowned King Zero, said, "Call me," then hastily swam to the safe side of the orange cone barricade.

"Five, four, three..."

The Axolotl watched the triangle—and the triangle watched him—until the detonation. The big bang went off in a flash of light bright enough it would have incinerated anyone in the vicinity had it not been contained to a flat plane.

When the Axolotl looked away from the light, the afterimage of a triangle was burned into the center of his vision.

Dimension Zero was sealed off from the rest of reality—locking its king in for the next trillion years.

####

When the triangle said his name was "King Zero," of course, he wasn't speaking English. English wouldn't exist for a long time. The name King Zero is simply a convenient translation.

The English word "zero" comes from the French zéro. Zéro comes from Italian zefiro. Zefiro comes from Medieval Latin zephirum. And zephirum comes from the Arabic صِفْر—ṣifr.

####

Centuries ago, in the dream of a naive, trusting human, the human asked in Arabic, "What should I call you?" And King Zero responded, "Call me Ṣifr."

And years later, a dreaming human asked in Medieval Latin, "What should I call you, o muse of mathematics?" And of the two Latin words descended from his current Arabic nickname, Ṣifr responded with the one he thought was closer: "Call me Cifra."

A dreaming human asked in Old French, "What's your name?" And he replied, "My name's Cyffre."

Speaking Middle English, he told a dreaming human, "My name's Siphre."

And in Modern English, he told Edward Bishop Bishop, "The name's Cipher. But you can call me Bill."

In a year's time, and two years before his death from sleep deprivation, Edward would write Flatworld, a book about a 2D shape and his Muse journeying up to the highest dimensions; and also all the way down, below the spaces and planes and lines, to the self-absorbed King Zero, buried in the point-sized zeroth dimension, who thought a whole universe was contained inside him.

####

(It's FINISHED. 🎉🎉🎉

Hi y'all, if you just joined us for this Axolotl plot arc, usually this is a post-canon human Bill fic. I took a break from the main plot for one week to post a one-chapter flashback and then it was nine chapters. This bitch is 50k words. It's a novel unto itself.

Anyway if you only showed up for this story about the Ax, it only exists in service of a much longer story; so if you enjoyed this check out the rest of the fic. This is technically chapter 69 (lol). (If human Bill isn't usually your thing, I've been told that this is The Human Bill Fic For People Who Don't Like Human Bills because Bill is clearly very much a triangle unhappily trapped in a human body, rather than just chill with being human—so you might wanna give it a shot.)

And for the regulars who are already reading the whole fic: OH MY GOD IT'S FINALLY FINISHED, WE'RE FREE, WE CAN RETURN TO THE PRESENT. Listen I love the Ax and his bizarre but unbending morality, but guys. Guys. I miss Mabel so much.

Pre-warning that I may end up needing to skip a chapter or two before the end of the year, because work's piling a LOTTA extra work on me this month and I might just flat out not have time to edit & do art. I'm up at 3 a.m. editing & queueing this post and I was up til 3 a.m. another night doing the art because I HAVE NOT HAD TIME this week to do it any earlier. I did this because I love y'all.

No that's a lie, I did this because I want to FINISH this DANG ARC. That's my birthday gift to me.

Anyway lemme know what y'all think!! 💕)

[indulgentdaydream]

I added these two together. I hope you guys don’t mind! Since I added them together I’m also making this a two parter. My first one ever!!

Comparisons Pt.1

Jason Todd x Jealous!Insecure!Fem!Reader || Angst/Fluff || Word Count: 2,488

Part 2

Warnings: not proofread as of yet. Maybe will after i post who knows

After a six hour morning shift as a dishwasher, you were ready to head home.

It was the early afternoon, your shift having ended at 12. It was sunny. Warm, but not too hot. You were still in your work clothes, simple black pants and a black t shirt, your tote bag full of belongings over your shoulder. It was nice weather for the half hour walk you had back to your apartment. Better than the weather you’ve faired before.

Jason usually picked you up after your shifts, no matter where he was, as long as he wasn’t on patrol. He never wanted you to be seen in public near the Red Hood. He didn’t want you as a target.

“It’s bad enough I come straight here after patrol some nights.” He had said once.

“I’m just that irresistible, eh?” You had smiled.

He laughed, kissing your shoulder, “Damn right, baby.”

This day, though, you knew he was busy with a certain case he was working on. One he wouldn’t tell you about. He had been hard at work on it for the last few weeks, barely able to make much time for you. You didn’t mind. He tried as much as he could, even if it ended up being a five minute phone call, or a visit in the middle of night in between beaten-up thugs.

The sun hits your face and warms your skin in a comfortable way. Your headphones blocked out the Gotham noise, making the moment more enjoyable. Your favourite music instead of honking horns, sounds of engines, distant sirens, and people yelling.

You were stuck in your own world. You began thinking of asking Jason if he wanted to take you for a ride on his bike later. If he was free. You knew it’d be hard for him to say no. He loved taking you for rides. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know that.

You turn a corner, stuck in your head. Thinking about what you were going to do when you got home. You weren’t used to the morning shift.

You start your walk down the road, passing busy storefronts. Crystal shops. Pet stores. Mostly cafés and diners. You briefly considered working as a dishwasher at one of these places instead so you didn’t have to walk as far.

Maybe you and Jason could go to a diner tonight? That was a hopeful thought. There wouldn’t be time.

You’re walking past the third outdoor seating that takes up most of the sidewalk, small bistro tables hidden from the sun by large, white, beach-style umbrellas. Nearly identical to the two others you had passed, only different colour schemes.

You stare straight ahead, the extended seating narrowing the sidewalk and making it harder for people to walk around. You’re nearly halfway past the café when a hand reaches over breaching the shaded area and entering the sunlight to gently grasp onto your wrist.

You’re already twisting, ready to pull the mace Jason had bought you (though you more-so believe stolen from Batman himself, as you could see where he had scratched out the bat symbol on the canister) out of your tote bag and aim, when your eyes land on the owner of the arm, stretched across the thin barrier separating the seating from the sidewalk.

It’s Jason. His face hidden behind sunglasses, a small frown on his lips as he looks up at you from the shade. He waits for you to slip off your headphones before speaking.

“I was waving to you,” his thumb absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand. “You didn’t see?”

“Sorry,” You smile in relief at him, stepping closer to the barricade so as not to impede the flow of foot traffic. “I was more focused on getting around.”

There was someone sitting across from him. You didn’t think much of it at first. You saw red hair. That was regular with Jason, since he was always hanging around with Roy. Or Kory.

That’s who you thought it was. Roy. Nothing different at all. You turned to greet him, a smile ready on your face.

The second you clocked the pretty face, the waist-long, flowing, shiny red hair, your smile faltered.

Artemis gave you a sincere, friendly smile, her fingers swirling her straw in her cup.

Something churned in your stomach, “Hello.”

Jason’s grip on your wrist tightened slightly once, speaking up, “Why didn’t you call me to pick you up?”

You look back to him, “You said you were busy today.”

He frowns again. Technically, he had never said that. But it was true.

“Sit with us,” Artemis said, pointing behind her. “The entrance is there. We’re almost done anyways. Jason can drive you the rest of the way.”

You nodded, sending the best smile back to Artemis that you could muster in the moment.

As you approached, Jason reached towards the empty table behind him, flipping the chair and placing it at their own table, in between him and Artemis, facing where you had just been standing.

Something in the back of your mind noted how he didn’t even stand to do it, his face still pointed towards Artemis, his eyes concealed by his shades, hiding his expression. You sit down, placing your tote bag on the ground beside on, on your right, between you and Jason.

He picked it up and moved it onto the table without a word.

“This is my girlfriend,” Jason introduces you, his hands back on the table, folded in front of him. “This is Artemis. She’s helping me with my case.”

You nod, your mouth suddenly dry as she smiles at you again, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she smiles again, stretching out plump lips to present straight, shiny teeth.

Jason’s quick goes back to talking with her about whatever they had been talking about before you had walked past, wrapping things up.

You weren’t even capable of listening at this point.

You trusted Jason. You’d always trust Jason. This was for the case and nothing more. You knew that.

Jason had never really spoke about Artemis before. He had mentioned her once, in the early months of your relationship. You had done something. He had later asked you not to, saying he had a bad memory of it from his ex. He had never even mentioned her name. You knew he didn’t like talking about her.

However, you had been out with Jason and Roy at a bar once. Roy had briefly mentioned Jason’s ex, since she was included in the story. Jason had changed the topic fast after that. Then when he’d gotten up to use to washroom, you’d asked Roy to tell you more about her.

“Just what she looks like,” You reasoned. “So I can recognize her if need be.”

Roy hesitated in telling you, but he still did.

You trusted Jason. However, you were losing trust in Roy. He had never mentioned how gorgeous this woman is.

Her skin was smooth. Not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help it. Her hair was perfect. Her skin flawless. On further inspection you even realized she wasn’t wearing any makeup.

She wasn’t wearing any makeup and she looked that good?

Artemis lifted her coffee cup to her lips, nodding to something Jason was saying. Nothing you understood, anyways. Even if you were listening. You caught sight of her flexed arm as she finished off the drink. She was strong. Probably worked out nearly as much as Jason, but far more slim than he was. But in a good way.

She smiled again, wide, displaying her pearly whites. You ran a tongue over your own teeth, pursing your lips quietly in thought. Yours weren’t anywhere near that.

Your arms suddenly felt itchy as you looked over Artemis’ again. You looked down. You needed to take your eyes off of her. You were being stupid. Jason had broken up with her. Jason had picked you. He had been dating you for nearly a year and a half.

Your eyes drifted to your own arms, spots of acne along biceps. No definition in sight. Your under eye bags suddenly felt like they were on broadcast. Your face felt gritty, your hand coming up to absentmindedly scratch at the break out you had along your cheek. The frizz of your own hair visible in the corner of your eyes.

You looked back up, looking out at the busy street. Jason had chosen you. Jason loved you. Jason kissed you everyday and always made sure to tell you how much he loved you.

Except in the past few weeks while he had been busy with this case.

Had he been working with her this whole time?

You glanced back down as Jason placed his hand on your knee. He always did this when you guys were out. You look back up at him. He’s leaning on the table with her other arm, straight-faced, nodding along to something Artemis was saying. Even her voice is pretty. Her tone carrying a confidence you were failing to find in the moment.

You looked back down to your own legs, Jason’s thumb moving lightly back and forth over the side of your knee. He didn’t even know he was doing it. He never did.

You looked over to Artemis’ legs, hidden underneath a pair of jeans. Even then you could see how skinny hers were. Could see that her thighs weren’t spilling off the sides of the small metal bistro chair.

Soon enough, she was standing, beginning to say her goodbyes. You swallowed thickly. She was tall too. An amazon, you remember Roy mentioning. How could you forget.

The crop top she was wearing fit her nicely, showing off her toned stomach and even dipping down at the neckline to show some cleavage.

You looked away, your arms folding across your stomach, hiding your own torso.

She smiles at Jason. You quickly look to Jason and find him smiling, too. A genuine smile. One he had yet to give you while you’d been sitting here.

You’re his girlfriend, you remind yourself. He loves you.

She smiles at you and gives her farewell. You can only nod. You watch as she leaves.

God. She was nice, too. Nicer than you had wanted to be to her.

She walks in the direction you had come from. Her hair flowing behind her, an expensive-looking purse hanging from her shoulder. Most men walking past stop to turn and look at her. She ignored them all.

That never happened to you. In fact, Jason had been the first guy to ever even ask you out. You never understood why you were his choice. Not when he was able to pull women like that.

Jason pats your knee and pulls you out of your thoughts, “Want to get anything before we go?”

You can’t even face him. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. A fucking amazonian warrior.

You stare down at the table, catching sight of your own hands. Your nails worn from your shift at the restaurant, fingertips still wrinkled from the water.

Why the hell would he ever stay with you if she was still in his life?

“No.” You finally answer. “Thank you.”

He nodded, sighing as he fished out his wallet to pay for their coffees. He counts the bills and change, speaking with his head down, “How many times have I told you not to walk around with your headphones on?”

You lift your head to look at him, “What?”

He doesn’t look at you, his eyes still hidden by his shades. “Your headphones. You get so lost in your music you couldn’t even see me waving to get your attention.”

Your fingers curled around the edge of the table, “I was looking past you. I didn’t expect to see you—”

“I was calling your name, too. If your headphones were off then you could’ve heard me.” He tossed a twenty onto the table, leaning forward on his elbows to look at you. “Anyone could sneak up on you.”

You pursed your lips, your brows tightening at him.

Why did she get a smile and not me?

Jason gestured to your bag on the table, “Same with this. The hell you putting it on the floor for? You wouldn’t notice it was taken until far too late—”

“You don’t have to drive me,” you interrupted. “I’ll walk.”

Jason cocked his head slightly, looking genuinely curious, “Why? Car’s right over there—“

“I’ll walk.” You repeated. Firmly.

You needed the walk. You had to try and work the jealousy out of your mind before you got into it with Jason. You didn’t want to argue. Not now. Not in public.

Jason sighed, running a hand over his mouth, “Don’t be like that.” He started to stand, his keys jingling in his hand, “Come on.”

He reached to take your bag for you, a large brown envelope already in his hand. Whatever Artemis had given him.

You reached out and snatched it from his hand. You stood, throwing it over your shoulder. “I’ll walk.”

Jason stared at you for a moment, seemingly frozen in place.

He sighed through his nose, “What’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath trying to control your emotions. This was stupid. Jason had broken up with her for a reason. Had been dating you for the last year and a half for a reason.

Unfortunately, your mouth was working faster than your mind, “Don’t act like you didn’t start this.”

Jason pushed his shoulders back. He tried again, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, frustrated.

“Fine,” he stuffed his free hand in his pocket. “Just don’t be wearing your headphones while walking around.“

You were tired. Your shift had been long. You were worked up from your mind running all the comparisons between you and Artemis. It was still running them, you suppose, as otherwise you wouldn’t have said, “I guess you wouldn’t have to worry about her all the time. She can handle herself.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his first shown emotion since that smile he’d given her, “Who?” Then they shot up almost just as quickly. “Artemis? Is that was this is about?”

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment at his realization. He’d figured you out.

His shoulders tensed, “Do you really not trust me?”

The way he had said it, his tone, has made it sound like the silliest thing in the world. Now it made you feel even stupider. Of course you trusted him.

You caught people staring in the corner of your vision. You ducked your head back down.

You gripped your tote bag at the straps over your shoulder and stormed off.

You heard Jason call your name as you passed by him again, on the other side of the barrier, headed back to your apartment.

Hope you guys enjoyed!! Pt 2 will be out later this week!!

Update!! Part 2 is here!!!

Part 2

[y0ur-lovrr]

—A fighter, huh?

A/n:Im not really sure If this may be a bit out of character for him, but I wrote this when I was half asleep forgive me! 😭

I will also say that I will take requests for posts if you want to leave a submission and what not-enjoy reading! <3

Pairing; Chishiya Shuntaro x reader <3 (no gender applied I don’t think)

—chishiya hums quietly under his breath to himself as he situates himself against the railing of the hotel building, his eyes watching the floors below as the tagger moves, the sound of bullets hitting bodies and the footsteps of players and the tagger.

He got high up to get a good view of the other floors, an advantage point of finding the symbol needed to clear this game of ‘tag’.

Safe to say, it’s been a little boring to him, not having a clear idea of where the symbol is yet, but he doesn’t draw his eyes away.

Until something catches his attention, the sight of an altercation happening at one of the lower floors, between the tagger..and a player, or a couple of players.

“A fighter? Interesting..” he hums with a slightly smirk, leaning forward slightly, the slight breeze making his hair sway slightly from underneath his hood, but he just watches.

He recognizes one of the players as aguni, since he was a military man at the beach, so him being a fighter was expected. But even he was close to be downed. The other being a guy with blonde hair and an orange pull over shirt, bleeding from his side and leaning against the wall-probably got hit in an artery.. if chishiya could recall his name was Karube or something along the sort, he heard his friend call him that earlier at the starting point. But he wasn’t really paying attention.

But the one that caught his attention was the person actually fighting majority of it. Your moves were maybe a little sloppy, but it made it almost graceful with the way you were throwing punches left and right, ducking to avoid any hits-and it works in your favor considering the tagger’s gun was left laying on the floor.

“Hmmm…” he huffs out with a light snicker, clearly interested as he watches, even from here he can see that you were kind of roughed up-but not as much as he thought you would be. A bloody nose and maybe a busted lip, and he can just imagine how scratched up your knuckles were.

He watches as you throw another punch at the tagger-hitting them right in the face, hard enough to make them stumble back, before they suddenly lift their leg and kick at you, the hit hitting you right in your stomach, sending you stumbling back into the railing, back harshly landing into it, and he’s sure it would leave a bruise.

“Damn it..anyone tell you that kicking is a cheap move?” Your voice mumble out with a small grunt, lifting one of your hands to wipe the blood off of your nose. If he was an idiot he would have thought you were done-but he was no idiot.

Chishiya huffs out another light snicker of amusement as he watches as you throw yourself forward and collide yourself with the tagger, sending both you and them down the stairs, and he can hear the noise of you guys thudding down the stairs with grunts, giving Karube and Aguni to help find the symbol.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” He mumbles to himself under his breath as he sees that’s theirs only 10 minutes left of the game, taking off his hood and turning and walking, having an idea where the symbol is-Arisu having the same idea

After the game is cleared, Chishiya and Aguni are walking out of the building, before Aguni stops and turns to a different direction, looking at something, making Chishiya raise a brow slightly and look over too.

“Damn kid took on majority of that fight like an idiot.” Aguni huffs out gruffly as he shakes his head, watching as you stand a few feet away from them, your head tilted back with your hand lightly against your nose, clearly trying to not get any more blood on your shirt.

“C’mon…I like this shirt…” you huff under your breath, annoyance in your voice along with a hint of pain, Chishiya lets out a small huff, finding it quite amusing that your shirt is what you were worried about.

“You might have a broken nose, you know..and your priority is your shirt, how straight forward that is.” He calls out casually, hands shoved in his pockets as if he wasn’t just at deaths door with his close this game got.

“So? It’ll heal. And I can’t get blood out of a shirt, it’ll just stain.” You retort with a huff, turning your head to look over at them, and lightly glaring at Chishiya, not finding his comment very amusing.

Chishiya quietly scoffs in reply, a slight smirk dancing across his lips, and Aguni isn’t really amused by your back and forth either. But before either of them can get another word out, you speak up for them.

“Man, you got roughed up, guess we kind of underestimated the dude, huh?” You mumble with a hint of sarcasm in it-referring to how Aguni told you and Karube that the tagger was a human and probably easy to beat with the three of you. Though he won’t admit that it was harder than expected. Aguni couldn’t help but scoff at your snarky comment, speaking as if you weren’t also a bit roughed up.

“But I had fun, so hopefully next time we meet I’ll be able to fight someone with you again.” You mutter with an amused huff and pat Aguni on the shoulder in a sort of mocking way-but he couldn’t really tell, you were kind of hard to read, but once again you don’t let them speak as you push past them and call out to Arisu and Karube in the distance.

“Hey! Can we go see Chota now? I wanna tell him about how I beat the hell out of that guy!” You exclaim enthusiastically as you jog slightly to catch up to them, Chishiya watching as you and your friends figures disappear into the dark streets.

“Hmm…she’s a fighter huh? And a good one at that.” He hums and slightly raises a brow at Aguni who just huffs and rolls his eyes, shaking his head slightly and gesturing for him to follow along as he heads away from the building, planning on going back to the The Beach. And Chishiya follows after him, you were definitely a character, that’s for sure. And he couldn’t help but wonder what’ll happen when he sees you again. You’ll most likely meet in another game anyway. But, he was interested in when that’ll be.

[gayasswitchbitch]

Here is a little funny idea? How would the monster trio (also Ace or Usopp or Sabo or Law) react to their girlfriend jokingly say “you’re definitely wearing that for our wedding” (or something like that) if she saw them wearing a fancy suit (or whatever?)😅

Whew okay this was HARD and only because I love Ace so much and I wanted to perfect his part and it stressed me tf out. Anyways I hope you enjoy!

One piece- How they react when you say “You should wear that to our wedding”

Warnings: a little suggestive on Zoro and Usopp. Aces has his insecure angsty thoughts.

Charcters- Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Law, Sabo, and Ace

Luffy- “wedding? What are you talking about?” He looks puzzled. We can’t get married yet! I have to be king of the of the pirates first dummy!”

It’s definitely second on his list. Once he’s titled king the next thing to do is make you his wife obviously (and queen of the pirates)

In a way it’s celebratory of this new chapter in his life. A new title, a new job, new way of life and a new step in your relationship all at once sounds like a good idea to him.

Zoro- “wedding? What are you talking about you crazy woman?”

“Excuse me! It was a simple joke! All I was really saying is that you look amazing but now I take it back since you want to be an ass!” You retort. You did mean it, the idea of seeing him at the altar with that tight black suit was clouding your mind, but now that he was rude about it you don’t want to give him the satisfaction!

“An ass? You’re the one throwing that shit on me out of nowhere! Who says that so casually anyway!?” You hadn’t noticed before.. but maybe the reason Zoro became so flustered has something to do with how red his face his. ‘Is he.. no he can’t be’ you think.

“Zoro.. are you blushing?”

“OF COURSE IM NOT!”

“Zoro you’re blushing! At the thought of marrying me? Oh, who knew you could be such a little sap!”

“Shut up! You’re lucky I tolerate you at all!” He yells back. He’s trying his best to seem uncaring, cool, and calm but it’s not working. Secretly, or really not as secretly as he would like, the idea of seeing you in a pretty dress and then taking you home after to start the honeymoon makes his body hot. He thinks arguing with you will make him forget about it.. but he also forgets he kind of likes it when you fight with him ;)

Sanji- This man melts to the damn floor. He’s both in shock and utter euphoria. He’s a little puddle on the ground, holding onto your ankles, mumbling about “I can’t believe im so lucky, so loved, this is the best day of my life” but in a second he’s back to his feet, shoving his face so close to yours his chin hairs are tickling you. “My love, tell me you’re joking I can’t handle this.”

Once you explain that you do in fact want to marry him someday he starts bawling. “Okay then we need to start planning now. I assume you’ll be wearing white, I’ll wear white too of course. We need to pick the flowers. Roses are always a good choice they’re a symbol of love but so overdone maybe we should do lilies.. oh but-“

“Sanji!” You yell. “I said SOMEDAY not immediately right now! And how are you speaking so fast while sobbing you need to sit down!”

But he doesn’t. Now that you said it it’s all he can think about and will not stop planning and talking about it and driving you crazy until the day you’re at that fucking altar and you better believe he’s making it the most beautiful and spectacular wedding you ever saw.

Usopp- Usopp goes red. A red you’ve never even seen before he’s so flustered. “W-wedding? Like- marriage? Like-you marrying me?” You tilt your head to the side a little confused and bemused at the same time.

“Well, Honey… we have been together for a long time.. I assumed we would get married one day. And again, when we do you HAVE to wear that.” You walked up to the shivering man and lock your arms around his neck. “Maybe not for too long though.. seeing how it looks.. I might not be able to stop myself from-“

“OKAY Y/N! That’s enough for now! I can’t handle any more of your flirting!”

You would think he’d be used to it by now 🤷‍♀️

Sabo- “Oh? How forward of you y/n” he smirks. He’s looking deep into your eyes, the most adoring look on his face. “Am I to presume this is your way of proposing? I mean I wanted to be the one to do it, but how can I resist when my beautiful girl is the one doing it? I guess I’ll have to give you this so you can do it right.” Sabo digs in his pockets for a moment before pulling out a small square box. He’s a smart man. He knew a long time ago that he was going to marry you. He was just waiting for the right time to ask.

Law- Man CHOKES on air for a second and has to fight for his life to regain composure.

Of course you would think of marriage. That’s a very normal sequence of a relationship. You meet, become friends, date, and then.. well he honestly hadn’t considered it. Law liked how things were. He didn’t see a reason to change it. Law liked staying up late to wait for your knock on the office door, you peeking your head in and asking if he’s busy. Of course he was busy, he was always busy, but he liked when you would intrude, when you’d ask how his studying was going and he really liked when you would push the book away and slide into his lap to spend the rest of the night kissing him all over.

Remembering all these nights brings a smile to his face. He knew he’d be an idiot to let that go. Maybe having those nights for the rest of his life wouldn’t be horrible.

Ace- After hearing those words from your mouth Ace freezes in place and for the first time in his life, Ace is praying to gods he didn’t believe in and begging them to keep you close to him for as long as possible.

When Ace first asked you to be his girlfriend he had a hard time believing that you said yes. It was like he was dreaming and has been dreaming ever since. The thought of you wanting more, a marriage, is unfathomable to him at first.

It would be a lie to say he’s never thought about it, but the times he has only broke his heart. “Don’t kid yourself” he’d think. “There’s no way she’ll stay with me that long. It’s only a matter of time before she realizes I don’t deserve her. That I’m not worthy of her love. That there has to be someone better for her out there.”

Overall what mattered to Ace most is that you’re happy. “No matter how little, any time would be enough with her” he often thought to himself. At least he got to touch you, kiss you, make you smile. He cherishes every second as much as he can. Anytime you throw your head back in laughter, anytime you kissed him, anytime you said “I love you.” he knew these would be the moments he would look back on when he thought of you. On those days where he’s missing you a little more and you’re long gone with the actual love of your life.

So for you to bring up marrying him so casually sent his brain into overdrive. It would take Ace a few minutes to realize you had actually said that, and that he wasn’t hallucinating. It’s truly hard for him to comprehend that you love him so much. He would ask if you were joking at least five times before it really settled in. Once it did he would be elated, jumping around like a little kid, his mouth moving a mile a minute going on about how much he loves you and planting kisses on every seeable inch of skin.

Ace finally stops jumping around like an excited puppy to pull you in closer. He reaches his warm, strong arms around you and pulls you in closer. With a final kiss on your cheek, Ace rests his head on your shoulder.

“You’d marry me?” He’d ask looking up with a goofy grin.

“Ace.. we’ve been dating for forever and I love you.. why wouldn’t I want to marry you someday?”

That was all Ace needed. He’s running to the nearest town to sell everything on his body if he needs to. He doesn’t care the cost, he needs a ring and needs it now. Ace now has to propose as soon as possible.

Now that he knows you’d actually marry him he’s locking you down before you get the chance to rethink…not that you ever would.

[m4rv3l-girl]

Happens to the Best of Us - Part 4

Bucky x Y/N

Y/N took the test. Who’s gonna check it?

Note: I feel bad for the last part…kinda. (@mayafatimakhan)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Warnings: Possible pregnancy.

Time slowed as you and Bucky stood frozen, eyes locked on the small, plastic test lying on the counter between you.

The soft glow of the bathroom light highlighted his steady gaze, filled with unwavering support and gentle reassurance. For all his calm, though, you could feel the way his fingers trembled ever so slightly as they held yours, the weight of your collective hopes and fears pressing down on both of you.

Seconds stretched into eternity, each one pulsing with a nervous anticipation that filled the small space around you. You swallowed hard, barely daring to breathe. There was a strong chance that Bucky Barnes got you pregnant …

Your heartbeat echoed in your ears, loud and unsteady, almost drowning out the soft click of the timer on your phone counting down to the result.

Bucky squeezed your hand gently, his thumb stroking over your knuckles. “You good, sweetheart?”

You gave him a shaky smile, nodding even as you felt your knees weaken. “Just…a little nervous.” Your laugh was tight, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s eyes softened, and he brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles. “Whatever happens, I’m right here, Doll. We’ll figure it out together.”

The warmth of his words wrapped around you, settling your anxious heart, if only just. You let out a slow breath, resting your head briefly against his shoulder, savoring the moment. As much as this was terrifying, it was also exciting, a moment you’d both dreamed of, even if it had seemed so far away not so long ago.

“You know we can’t just stare at it all night, Kitten?” he asked, his voice soft but steady, his expression a mix of excitement and trepidation.

“I know.”

“Want me to check?”

“No. Yes... Maybe…” You took a deep, calming breath, closing your eyes briefly before looking at him with a determined nod. “Yes. Go ahead.”

With a final squeeze of your hand, Bucky picked up the test, his face unreadable as he stared at the small screen.

The silence was thick, each heartbeat feeling like a lifetime, and you watched his face with bated breath, trying to glean anything from his expression. His brows knit together, and he tilted his head, squinting at the tiny symbols.

A long moment passed before he finally spoke, his voice hesitant and slightly confused. “Uh…I don’t know what this means, Doll…”

Your heart stuttered, and you blinked, feeling your breath hitch. “What? Am I knocked up or not?”

Bucky held the test closer to his face, his lips pressing into a thin line as he scrutinized it. “I don’t know! What does two blue stripes mean?” His bewildered expression was enough to break through your anxiety, a giggle escaping your lips despite yourself.

“Bucky, that means…that I’m pregnant.” The words left you breathlessly, the enormity of them hanging in the air between you.

Bucky’s eyes widened, the dawning realization transforming his face from confusion to awe. “You’re…we…we’re having a baby?” His voice was barely more than a whisper, his blue eyes shining as he looked at you, a flicker of joy lighting up his face.

You nodded, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you laughed, the sound giddy and full of wonder. “Yes, Bucky. We’re having a baby.”

Without a second’s hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in the warmth of his embrace and he was bouncing excitedly on his heels.

You felt him bury his face in your hair, his breath hitching against you as he held you tight, like he never wanted to let go. The two of you stood there, locked together in this perfect, fragile moment, neither of you daring to move.

Bucky pulled back slightly, his hands moving to cradle your face as he looked at you, his gaze filled with so much love it made your heart ache. His eyes shimmered, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You’re really pregnant? I put a baby in you..?” he whispered, as if saying it aloud would make it more real.

You nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks, and he brushed them away gently, his thumb lingering on your skin. “Yeah, Bucky. Guess you really do have strong swimmers...”

A quiet, joy-filled laugh bubbled up from him, and he pulled you close again, his arms wrapping around you with a fierce protectiveness that felt like a promise. You could feel the gentle, steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, grounding you, reminding you that this was real.

After a moment, Bucky’s hand drifted down, resting on your stomach with a reverence that brought a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you. “Hey there, little one,” he murmured softly, his voice a low, awestruck whisper. “It’s your dad.”

The words settled over you like a soft blanket, the reality of it sinking in. He was already looking at you with such pride, as if you’d done something extraordinary just by being here with him, by letting this miracle happen.

“Are you…happy?” you asked, voice thick with emotion, feeling the weight of his hand against your stomach, grounding you in this new, incredible reality.

Bucky’s answer was immediate. “Happy? I’m fucking- oh, Sorry. Small ears. I’m elated, Doll. I didn’t think I’d ever get to have something like this. Like you. I thought…” His voice trailed off, his expression tender, a vulnerability there that made your heart swell. “I never thought I’d be lucky enough to get a family.”

You reached up, cupping his face and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, pouring every unspoken word into the touch. “You deserve this, Bucky. You deserve every bit of happiness.”

He smiled against your lips, his gaze warm and overflowing with affection. “Guess we’re gonna be parents, huh?”

A bubble of laughter burst from you, and he joined in, the sound filling the bathroom, echoing in the tiny space and making it feel larger, warmer, like it held all the love in the world. He pulled you close again, resting his forehead against yours, both of you breathing in the joy of the moment.

After a few minutes, Bucky pulled back slightly, his expression shifting to a playful grin. “So…when can we go shopping?”

You blinked, laughing softly at the eagerness in his voice. “Already thinking about shopping? I haven’t even had a chance to process this.”

He shrugged, looking a little sheepish but still grinning. “Well, we gotta be prepared, right? Besides…” He placed a hand over your stomach again, his eyes shining with adoration. “I want our little one to have everything.”

Your heart melted at the words, and you leaned into him, feeling a deep, grounding sense of love and security. “Alright, but only if you promise we can take things slow. I think we have plenty of time.”

He grinned, a light in his eyes you hadn’t seen in ages. “Deal, Doll. But I’m not waiting too long—I’m already imagining them in a little Captain America onesie.” He chuckled, and you rolled your eyes, smiling as you let yourself get lost in his joy.

…………………………….………………………………………………..…………….………..

Part 5 is out now, lovelies!

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Sail Away

Summary: Another nightmare leaves Javi wide awake, forced to wrestle with the consequences of his past as he looks towards his future

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Heavyyyyy on the angst, PTSD, references to violence/death (from Narcos), panic attack and descriptions of past panic attacks, insomnia, feelings of guilt/shame, mentions of pregnancy/parenthood, comfort, still a happy (enough) ending, post DEA Javi, poor Javi just really needs a hug :(

A/N: We're tryin new things here people!! Fair warning- I feel like this is DRASTICALLY different from the way I normally write (content and style wise) but big sad time, pre-period hormones said it's time to cry 🤷🏼‍♀️ I think a lot about how post-DEA Javi handles thinking about his time in Colombia, and how hard it is for him to talk about, even with the people he knows care about him the most ☹️ I hope this doesn't beat you to death with metaphors, imagery and lack of beta'ing (I can still hear my AP lit teacher screaming SYMBOLISM into the abyss) Trying to emulate a lil @jolapeno on this one (ily my descriptive queen 👑)

It happened again. 

You instantly knew from the stark cold of his side of the bed, the empty void where his broad frame should be, his sheets twisted and tangled from where he had fought another round with sleep and lost. 

3rd night in a row, the 5th time this week. At this point, it was hard not to keep track. 

The cyclical pattern of restless nights, haunted by ghosts of his past that taunted and teased him, cruelly lurking the back of his mind, no matter how hard he begged or pleaded for them to disappear. 

Forcing himself to wrestle with his demons in the darkness couldn’t help but feel like insult to injury- the harsh blacks and blues that flooded the sky, drowning out the last glimmer of sunlight as it dipped below the horizon, perfectly mirroring the way his mind so devilishly seemed to paint his thoughts in shades of ebony and cerulean with erratic, angry brushstrokes over the warm yellows and oranges of his new life he had finally learned to embrace. 

It only seemed fair that he went to battle with the darkest musings of his mind under the night sky that so cruelly reflected his mood. 

You weren’t surprised the first time you found him hunched on the back steps of your porch, head buried in his hands, fingers twitching for a cigarette- the vice he’d sworn to give up after his final return home, a vow that moments like these had made him distinctly regret. You always wondered how despite the stark silence that surrounded him as he stared off into the dark abyss, you could still hear his thoughts screaming at you- crying out for attention, acknowledgement, anything to get someone else to understand what he was hiding inside of his mind that he was too scared to say out loud. 

His midnight disappearances came in waves, fading and reappearing like an unpredictable ocean tide that left you wondering when the cool and salty water would crash around your ankles next as you stood at the edge of the shore. 

For a while, the seas had been calm, Javi’s body nestled next to yours, his warmth comforting and covering you along with the messy piles of blankets and bedsheets that filled your mattress, the nights being nothing more than drifting to sleep in each other’s arms, haunted dreams harbored at bay. 

For the last 5 nights, the tides had shifted. A storm was raging. 

The first few nights you let him go- you’d watched him weather this kind of storm before, always insisting it was a journey he was supposed to go on alone, the type of trip you need to make without risking hurting the innocent passengers that were supposed to ride with you. 

But as the days came and went, golden rays of vibrant sun shifting to dark and lonely blackness, it felt like you were leaving him out in the abyss without even so much as a life vest, praying for a return you knew would never come unless someone weathered the storm to save him. 

“You’re up again.” 

It’s a neutral statement, enough to disarm him from the implications you’ve sent yourself on a rescue mission to find him while you settle next to his stoic frame sinking into the porch step. 

“And you shouldn’t be.” 

Not quite resistance, but certainly not acceptance to you let you come aboard with him. Not yet. 

“I was already up anyway. Someone has been a big fan of punching me in my gut at 2 A.M. Hard not to notice when I wake up and your side of the bed is empty for the 5th time this week.” 

Both your eyes shift down to the subtle swell of your stomach, barley poking out from under the worn t-shirt you’d stolen from his dresser drawer. You’d never really had a knack for thievery until the past few weeks, claiming that everything was too tight for your growing belly. Despite all his years intertwined with the law, Javi had never had a problem with pardoning you for your violation, happy to let you, his household thief, and your new partner in crime indulge in the habit if it brought you any sort of comfort in your constant uncomfortability of growing a new life inside you. 

“Already picking up on her dad’s shit sleeping habit.” He scoffs under his breath, a bitterness in his tone that he thinks he’s somehow managing to inflict years worth of poor choices on his future child, still months away from even making her arrival into the world. 

It hurts, watching the pain well in his eyes as he stares off at the stars, glistening in the distance like some sort of unreachable sanctuary, the savior of a temporary distraction. Right now, you wish he’d look at you the same way, but he knows you won’t let him wallow in the all consuming waves of his own self pity like the stars will. 

A silent journey to outer space is the easy way out. You aren’t. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask it like it’s a question, like he has a choice in the matter. He knows that you’ll be gentle with him- you have been since the moment you met him- but Christ, he also knows you’re nothing, if not persistent, too. 

He sighs, accepting his defeat as his gaze drops from the sky down to the ground, cautiously allowing you to climb aboard with him. 

It’s like trying to approach a wounded wild animal- move too fast and you’ll scare him away, leaving him to writhe in even more pain as he tries to flee from you. Move too slow and you leave him to bleed out, alone and afraid. 

“I’m fine.” It’s almost humorous how blatant of a lie it is, immediately putting himself on the defensive, like he has any ground to stand on with his claim. 

You say nothing, your silence enough to intrigue him as his eyes finally meet yours, the look on his face revealing the truth his words wouldn’t. You try your best to remain neutral, but Javi knows the sadness slowly slipping through your expression, the one you’re trying your best to hide because you’re not the one that’s hurting. Yet, there’s something about seeing you hurt because of him that’s enough to chip away at the wall he’s put up between you two, finally allowing you a crack just wide enough to let you see through to the other side. 

“I- I keep having the same dream. Every night, it’s the same.” He says “dream” like he’s letting himself drift off to sleep to all the pleasantries the world has to offer him, waking up to his midnight thoughts refreshed and renewed. Because his dreams aren’t just dreams, his dreams are the most terrifying nightmares the majority people wouldn’t even be capable of imagining, a violent parade of the worst memories his brain can muster.  

“What dream?” You ask, as carefully and cautiously as the way you shift yourself closer to him. 

“I- It’s- I just- Fuck-” 

It’s then you choose to gamble, wagering that he’s let you in enough, your next move won’t startle him, inching yourself closer as your right hand begins to intertwine with his left. He’s resistant at first, but as the familiar warmth of your body grazes across his skin, he begins to let you in, allowing your fingers to gently tangle, anchoring himself in your grasp. 

“It’s okay, Javi. I’m here. You can tell me.” 

It’s then the bets become less of a reckless gamble, squeezing him just a little tighter, stroking his skin with your thumb and feeling him squeeze back, taking your hand and finally letting you start to lift him out of the eye of the storm. 

He still needs the reassurance you won’t leave, that the man his nightmares make him won’t scare you away like they have so many others. An insecurity that distresses him enough to make him ache, despite your compassion. 

You’re not gonna scare me away, Javi.

The words still ring in the back of his head when he finds himself like this, remembering the first time you found him on the living room floor of your apartment at 3 A.M., skin tacky and covered in sweat, heart beating so fast he was convinced he was dying, terrified of his mind, and even more terrified you would leave him, letting you find him exposed, like some sort of disgusting, open wound. 

He’ll never understand why you showed him so much mercy. In no lifetime will he ever be able to thank you enough that you did. 

It still doesn’t make what comes next any easier. 

“I just stood there. I just let him- I just let him do it. He was just a fucking kid.” 

You can practically hear both your hearts break over the stark silence. Javi’s, because of all the things he’s done, this is the one he’ll never forgive himself for. Yours, for the same reason. 

“Javi…” 

“I didn’t even try to stop him. He was just a kid. We just- we just fucking left him there. What kind of person does that? I- I spent so long trying to convince myself, trying to- fuck- trying to justify it was okay. That casualties happen when you’re trying to catch a fuckin’ monster. But what if- what if none of it fucking mattered because I was the one who was really the monster.” 

It was flowing out of him now, a flash flood crashing through the rest of the brick wall he had built up to defend himself. You can feel him trying to pull his hand away, trying to keep you from getting swept away in the current with him, but it only makes you double down harder. 

“You’re not a monster, Javi. What happened back then, it- it did matter. I know it hurts, but it doesn't make you a monster.” 

It’s not his admittance of guilt that breaks him- it’s your forgiveness. 

He wonders how can stand him, let alone love him. How his past hasn’t left him tainted and useless, like some sort of lame animal with a limp that can’t be cured, its only options left to die or be sent out to pasture, too weak to venture back for help. That you were the only one who wanted to help fix the parts of himself that were the most broken and mangled. That you were the only one who gave him a chance to be healed instead of leaving him for dead. 

When his eyes meet your stomach is when the guilt begins to morph into terror. Because years ago, a mother, just like you, was nestled away in the haphazard rows of colorful buildings that lined the streets of Medellín, carrying her unborn son, dreaming about the life she would plan for him. 

Javi knows that nowhere in those plans did she account for the pain and heartbreak she would suffer as some asshole DEA agent watched her son’s body become one with the earth while he took a bullet to the brain.  

How was he supposed to live with himself when he got a chance to play God- that now, after letting a life disappear, he was allowed to have a hand in creating a new one? 

You watch the gears in his brain churn, yearning for an explanation to the unexplainable puzzle he’ll never be able to solve, even though he’s convinced he can. His brain works in logic and reasoning, only making the emotional torment of his past decisions more confusing for him. The same kind of logic that you’re not sure will ever allow him to forgive himself. 

“How am I supposed to be a dad? How are you ever gonna trust me? How am I supposed to keep her safe when I’ve done so many terrible fucking things?” Tears begin to flow down his cheeks, each word more ragged and shaky than the last until he can’t fight it any more. 

It feels like the entire weight of the world collapsing into your lap as he melts into you, so heavy that there’s nothing that you can do but wrap your arms around him at let him cry and soak the battered fabric of the his stolen t-shirt draped over your top, fisting at the frayed hems. 

He can’t pretend anymore, not after he’s shown you all the cards he’s had to lay out on the table. There’s no more facade, no more attempt at a stubborn masquerade to hide his hurt. He’s finally let you climb aboard his ship and take the wheel, trusting that you’ll guide him home to shore where he belongs. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

The way he repeats it, chanting it like a broken prayer, begging for your forgiveness makes you ache. You’ve forgiven him for the sins of his past long ago, yet he still feels the need to plead to you for redemption. You wish there was a way to take it from him, to let him unburden himself from the shame he’s carried for so long and carry it for him, even if just for a little while. To let him see what you see in him, to know that you love him for all of his past, and not just in spite of it. To let him know that the storm he has to weather is a storm you will never let him weather alone. But for now, three words are the best you can do. 

“I love you. I love you, Javi.” 

And you do. You mean it. With every bone in your body, with every fiber of your being, you mean it. And right now, he may not admit it, but he knows you do, too. Those three words are enough to let him see the shoreline approaching in the distance, to see the light of day beginning to peek its way through the cracks of the night sky, to carry him back home to you. 

He says it with his silence, the way his sobs start to slow, replaced with long inhales and exhales, his chest rising and falling against you. He says it with the way he holds you just a little tighter, hand splaying across the swell of your stomach, muttering a promise to himself just loud enough for you to hear. 

“I promise I’ll protect you. Both of you. If it’s the last thing I do.” 

“I know you will. I will, too. I promise.” 

The promise is the last gentle wave that pushes you back to the part of the beach where tides roll gently, forgetting the raging currents they once were in the middle of the ocean. A place where you can safely row your boat ashore without the fear of another dreadful thought creeping up on you and dragging you back out to face torment again. 

As you look out in front of you, the sky is no longer laden with heavy shades of black- a pastel sunrise is beginning to creep over the horizon, glistening like some sort of trophy for an underdog fistfight you’d managed to win, even if you’d come out the other side beaten and bruised. It was enough to nudge Javi’s head out of your lap, encouraging him to accept his prize at a game where winners came few and far between. 

Tonight, you'd never been more thankful the universe had let Javi come up a winner.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been up early enough to watch the sunrise.” 

“Yeah. It is pretty, isn’t it? Sorry this is the reason you get to see it.” 

“As long as I get to be with you, that reason will always be good enough.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[keitorin3]

Short: Finding Merlin

Arthur: What do you mean you can't find Merlin?

Leon: I mean we can't find him, Sire. We've asked all the servants and before you ask, yes we've checked the Tavern.

Arthur: *Paces* Then search the forests I want him found understood!?

Leon: Yes Sire. *Walks out the door but hears the King mutter*

Arthur: *mutters* Idiot thinks he can escape this marriage... Ha just wait until I show him his wedding robes, he'll look like a noble and absolutely hate it. 👰🏻‍♂️

Leon: *suffers and leaves quickly*

Gwaine: So what did the princess do this time?

Leon: Apparently he gave Merlin his mother's sigil awhile back and Merlin only just found out, thanks to Gwen, what a noble offering a sigil means to their intended.

Gwaine: No way! The princess proposed marriage to Merlin without even telling him?!

Leon the long suffering: Indeed. Merlin is a commoner and while he has improved since he first arrived here, he still doesn't know all the intricacies of nobility.

Gwaine: So Merlin got mad and went off to who knows where?

Leon: It would seem.

Gwaine: How long do we have before his royalness starts going off to find Merlin himself?

Random Servant: *Shouts* The King is gone!

Gwaine: ... 😅

Leon: ... 😭

Merlin: *Returns dragging an unconscious and dirty Arthur on horseback*

Gwen: Oh, what happened? Did you get attacked? Are you both OK? Where have you been Merlin? Everyone has been looking for you.

Merlin: I'm ok Gwen, I went to talk about something important. Nothing bad happened, I left a note with Gaius on where I went.

Elyan: Ah, he got called on an emergency birth with one of the down town ladies, hasn't been back yet.

Merlin: *Huffs* And so that was reason for this idiot to go off and start a kingdom wide hunt for me? The Dollphead...

Gwen: *sigh* We did try to tell him he was being a bit paranoid. But he thought after your argument on the sigil he might have scared you off... *Looks to the unconscious King resting on the horse* What happened to him?

Merlin: Pfft, *smirks* the King fainted.

Elyan: He... Fainted...

Merlin: Yup. I found the idiot riding like a madman and when he finally calmed down enough to actually listen to me I told him I just went off to talk with Kilgharrah and Aithusa.

Gwen: Ok, that explains where you went, but then what happened to make Arthur faint?

Merlin: Aha, well... 😅

[BEFORE, IN THE FOREST]

Arthur: So what was it that you need to talk to dragons for? Did you get your answers? *Trying and failing not to stare at Merlin while walking beside him*

Merlin: Hmm I did *Reaches out to grasp Arthur's hand and paused their walking*

Arthur: Merlin?

Merlin: *Breathes deeply before taking something from his pocket and into Arthur's hand*

Arthur's heart dropped when he felt a round shape of a coin and it showed in his eyes what he believes this to be.

Merlin: *Noticed Arthur's sudden sad mood, rolled his eyes* Dollphead, opened your hand before jumping to conclusions! 🙄

Arthur: *Opens hand* Wait, is this...

Merlin: *Squirms and fidgets* I wanted to ask Kilgharrah about Dragon Lord Courting triditions. And well, he wasn't too informed in that but knew of Dragon Lords giving a Dragon scale as gifts and I asked Aithusa for one of hers, being her Dragon Lord after all... And well he said I could shape it, so I used my magic to carve it and well, being a dragon lord and you a Pendragon I thought why not Twin dragons?

In Arthurs hand was a white-silver sigil that shines faintly with Twin dragons circling each other and behind them he recognises the druids triskel symbol.

Arthur: *In Awe and too speechless for words*

Merlin: It also is embedded with my magic and acts like a... Connection between us. I'll be to find you as long as you have it and you'll be able to find me. My magic would guide you. Maybe then you won't have to go on a kingdom wide search for me. *Laughs*

Arthur: *Smiles* Heh, so a Merlin Finder? About time, do you know how hard it is to find idiot warlocks lately?

Merpin: *Smiles fondly* Prat.

Merlin: *Looks serious* That's not all either. Arthur, your a prat and a dollop head. I know I tell you you're always a bit thick in the head but I never knew how much until I realised the significance of your mother's sigil. You had to go about proposing to me in the most infuriating way without even telling me.

Merlin: But I know more then anyone how good of a man you are, how much you work to be fair to your people. And the thought of you having those kind of feelings for me was too good to be true. Because I would have said yes. Always I'd say yes. I feel like I was born to love you Arthur. Prophecys and destiny may play a part, but I would always chose you.

Arthur: *Dumbfounded*

Merlin: *Rolls his eyes* I'm proposing cabbagehead. I'll marry you. ❤️💍

Arthur: ... 😳🤯💞 *Faints and falls into a puddle*

Merlin: ...

[END OF FLASHBACK]

Merlin: *Blushes with a laugh* I accepted his proposal. He ended up going into shock after and fell over into a small puddle.

Gwen: Oh! 😃 Merlin I'm so happy for you!

Elyan: Yeah, cheers mate. *Mutters to himself* Thank god all the pining is over.

Arthur: *Wakes up* I had the most fantastic dream! Merlin gave me a sigil and accepted my proposal~!

Merlin: *Speaks from the fireplace* It wasn't a dream Arthur!

Arthur: 😍 You love me! 💖

Merlin: 🙄❤️ *Walks up and kisses Arthur* Yes I do.

Arthur: 💘🥴💕 Merlin Loves me~! Merlin will marry me~

Merlin: *Fond and in love* 🥰

The (Merlin's) Knights: FINALLY!

Castle Servants: FINALLY!

All of Camelot: FINALLY!

Kilgharrah: The two halves have finally become one.

Aithusa: *Chirps*

[multifandomfanatic02]

"Stuck in a Trap."

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 : deer!Alastor x human!Reader

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 : reader finds herself wandering the woods alone and falls upon a wounded stag stuck in a bear trap.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨 : deer Alastor, human reader, marked, soulmate trope in a way

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 1.3k

It was a cool night in spring. Nice enough to take a walk outside. You had decided to chose a descent into the woods behind your house. It wasn't dangerous or anything, had a nice gravel path. A few miles into it became an attraction to some tourists. Those who were into the whole haunting thing.

The most you heard were some silly ghost stories. What nonsense, you thought. Some believed there was a portal straight to Hell sitting in the thicket somewhere. Some believed there have victims from past murders buried in there. You weren't exactly into paranormal shit, you've lived and roamed these woods for years now.

No, the closest you have seen were the crazy amounts of dead deer lying on the floor. Hunters perhaps? Maybe mountain lions? Nah. The state of the deer made you feel bad, queezy more like. The poaching of the animals was upsetting to say the least. Whenever you went on these walks, you made sure to break whatever traps you could find. More often than not, all being bear traps. It was illegal in this area after all. Nobody really enforces the law around here considering how scared everyone was with this place.

You had been walking for what felt like a few hours. Your cue being the red and pink sky to head home. Oh but it just feels so right to be there. It wasn't until you heard a loud animal like cry that you stopped in your tracks. You bet it was a deer caught in a trap. What were you thinking following a scary sound like this. This kinda thing should only happen in scary movies.

After a few minutes of wandering around for the source of the sound, the creature in question comes in to view. It was a stag. What a divine animal this was. It was a lot larger than most deer, the biggest set of antlers you had seen. And it's color was dazzling. It was as if it reflected the crimson sky above it. There was no way that it was it's natural color.

Inching closer to it, the reason of it's cry came to your attention. A hoof was caught in a bear trap like you originally thought. Blood dripped from it's ankle, in attempt to soothe it, he licked it. Blood staining around it's mouth. Looks like he'd been there for quite some time.

Bending down to the ground, you hold up your hands hoping the creature would realize you were going to try and release it. All he did was bellow in hopes to scare you away. But you just stared in amazement. Your hand just inches away from the trap, the stag notices and understands your actions. Staying still for a few seconds.

His hoof finally free, you put the bloodied old bear trap in your bag. The beautiful creature bows his head slightly, one of his front hooves folding beneath him, obviously showing a little gratitude. You bent down to meet his gaze, returning the unusual human-like gesture. You didn't really think about it too hard.

Your hand reached out to him, in hopes he'll accept your advances. The stags ears laid back against his head as he pressed his forehead into yours. He backed away slightly, giving the entirety of your forearm a well deserved lick before bounding back into the thicket of the woods.

What a strange interaction. Something you surely won't ever forget whether you liked it or not. Upon looking down, you notice a green glow surrounding the area the creature marked. Looked like it was making out a subtle A-like symbol. Well time to proceed home and wash off.

A few years had gone by and the mark still remained on your arm. After many specialist appointments and surgeries, the doctors were just as stumped as you were. It wasn't a tattoo of any kind, no ink was found in the skin. It wasn't skin cancer. And crazy as it is, after several biopsies the mark simply grew over the scar tissue. It was a complete mystery as to what that mark was. And if you told everyone where you truly got it, they would all think you were nuts.

If that wasn't enough, you often felt prying eyes around your secluded house. The paranormal stories were beginning to sound sane after all the experiences you had. There have been many nights where the stereo would turn on by itself or static would just be heard. Or nights when a dark yet comforting shadow would loom over you as you slept. You eventually became accustomed to these intrusions. Most would have moved out by now.

Whatever was here was like a dark guardian angel. You weren't thinking about the holy ones whom would just, look after you, wish you the best of luck and bring you to heaven when you died. No. This one was different. The type to personally interfere with human affairs to keep you safe. The idea wasn't too off-putting considering you had done been in two severe car accidents and a tornado; somehow leaving all situations unscathed.

More often than not, you would have dreams about the stag you had found in the woods all those years ago. Talking about how you belonged to him. How you live under his protection. He had a name too but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. His voice was really unique and drew you in like a magnet. The dreams you've received were so surreal. Like you've known him all your life.

If this was paranormal, you were going to do some digging. The term typically refers to the dead, right? The town library should have records of your property and the folks who lived there before you.

It thankfully didn't take much to get the information you were looking for. There were several newspaper articles from the 1930's that included details of a man named Alastor. Alastor.. that was the name you heard in your dream. It explained the mark on your arm.

He was a local serial killer who targeted those who were for the most part ill intentioned. Especially toward women. He was found dead in the woods behind your house, burying one of his victims. Mistakened for an animal. Which is why to this day hunting is illegal in those set of woods.

More newspaper articles opened up about his profession. Despite the mans.. er.. hobbies, he was quite the talent as a radio host back in the 20's. Youtube even had some of the old audio recordings. Your heart soared upon hearing his voice. This was him. The stag you saved, the shadows watching over you, and the voice that whispered to you in your dreams.

What didn't make sense was.. why was he a stag of all things? Why did it feel real? Well, as it turns out, the power of the human soul varies in the afterlife. Some could just interact with inanimate objects while others can only muster a sound whether it be naturally or through something called a spirit box. Then, what was Alastor?

Ultimately, you had fallen in love with Alastor. Over the course of your life, you had gotten to know him from your sweet dreams. He often thanked you for your kindness. Never had he met someone that put his faith back into humanity. Who would show such a lowly animal mercy and generosity? And the day that you arrive in Hell, he'll be there to catch you and say.

"The name is Alastor, the radio demon. A pleasure to be finally meeting you properly. Welcome home, ma chère."

a/n: i would just like to say that none of the pictures are mine, creds to the amazing artists 🎨

[goldenroutledge]

never say goodbye

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

word count: 2.3k

summary: you remind daniel of who he is when he needs it most.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, swearing but a happy ending (i tried)

a/n: self-indulgent to unbreak my heart a little bit. [edit] it’s now been confirmed that he’s leaving. the void will never be filled. there will never be another danny ric :,)

i listened to michael giacchino’s bundle of joy from inside out while writing this. if i could put my feelings into music, it would be this <3

daniel ricciardo masterlist

Your heart aches seeing the expression on Daniel’s face; painstakingly bittersweet in showing his signature smile even when it kills him. It gives you at least a little comfort knowing that no matter what happens, nobody will take that away from him. As he recounts his time in Formula 1 in the interview, it is clear that his journey here has not only been a mere time in his life but it is a part of his being. The ebbs and flows, the triumphs and defeats he’s experienced over the last decade condensed into a few short yet symbolic sentences.

This might be the least talkative anyone has ever seen Daniel Ricciardo, who's otherwise radiating relentless positivity to a point that is undeniable. You know that’s still alive in him somewhere underneath it all. Maybe that’s part of why it hurts so much, he is someone so undeserving of such treatment, to be dismissed this way. Everyone can feel it, and even under the night sky of Singapore, the paddock is enclosed in its own bubble. When the bright lights go down and the noise turns to silence, you can only imagine how he’ll be when it’s just the two of you again, knowing that those with the brightest smiles hold in the heaviest tears.

It’s impossible to miss the solemn glances toward him or the way the interviewer’s eyes match the look in Daniel’s, searching in the dark for an end to this nightmare. Even from afar you can see the way he’s holding back tears, choosing his words carefully to keep the dam from breaking just a little bit longer. He musters a smile and a nod at the end of his interview trying to convey that it's going to be okay, he is going to be okay.

Before you know it he’s making his way back to the team’s hospitality. Claps and cheers interrupt your thoughts, and you glance around to see his team members and friends now surrounding you near the entrance. It’s hard for everyone to see him this way but they also can’t help but be astounded at the way his head is still held high. He thanks each and every one of them with gratitude, before locking eyes with you at the very end.

Unexpectedly, your eyes are filled with tears at the sight of him. A quiet sob leaves your lips as he scoops you into his arms, swaying you both soothingly. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear and for reasons you can’t quite explain. I’m sorry I can’t keep it together. I’m sorry you have to be so strong. I’m sorry this is happening to you.

Daniel knows everything you mean by that, and feels his throat swell up, pressing a long kiss to your cheek instead. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting yourself take in his embrace for a few moments before it’s over. A few tears fall down your cheek and you’re not sure who they belong to.

After a deep breath you pull away from him, returning a kiss to his cheek along with a proper smile of reassurance. As deeply as you feel for him right now, you feel just as much of a responsibility to make sure he’s taken care of.

“Meet you at the hotel after your debriefs?”

Daniel nods, eyes solemn as they drift behind you into the hospitality suite. He sighs, knowing what’s ahead of him. You figure it would be nice to give him a little time to himself, to stitch up his remaining wounds and take in what could be his last moments as a Formula 1 driver. To say a sudden goodbye to this paddock, his second home for the last 13 years, and to say goodbye to all of those that have been beside him, who have become a second family over those 13 years.

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

Daniel gives you one last smile of reassurance, knowing that no matter how many times he tells you he’s okay, you won’t believe him. He pecks your lips softly, walking inside and waving to you from behind the glass door. You wave back, still struck with emotion, feeling like a parent sending their child into their first day of school. Instead of the moment being a new beginning that’s filled with hope and joy, it’s a moment of bittersweet ending filled with sorrow and sadness.

You can only hope that whatever’s waiting for him on the other side of this, he’s happy. You make a promise to yourself that you’ll be there through all of the grief and the restlessness it will take for him to get there.

-

Back at the hotel, you sit quietly for a while, gathering your thoughts. It certainly wouldn’t be in your best interest to scroll through the endless articles and videos of a heartbroken Daniel giving interviews. Though seeing him secure both the fastest lap and driver of the day makes you smile. P1 or P18, he is beloved by everyone inside of the paddock and out. He infects others with a unique energy that can’t be replicated. One could only dream to help him truly understand that.

The unzipped suitcases in your hotel room were taunting, as if they could know how badly you didn’t want this to be the last time you both have to pack up and leave a race weekend. But the thought of Daniel coming back and having to do all of this himself was even more painful. Begrudgingly, you began to organize the contents of your luggage.

Underneath one of Daniel’s hoodies were a collection of bracelets and trinkets from fans given to him over the last two weeks. Yet another reminder of something he’d be saying goodbye to. These gifts weren’t simply material things. They were symbols of the love and adoration people had for Daniel. They were a representation of the inspiration he gave to so many around the world. And not only to them, but to his friends, his family members, and to you.

This moment felt like deja vu as you vividly witnessed him say goodbye once before when his time ended at McLaren. And then the spark of hope began to glow brighter once again when he was welcomed back to Red Bull as a reserve driver, and then as a driver for RB.

It was a journey you’d been capturing for quite some time now on your own camera, moments that you weren’t ready for Daniel to see just yet. Of course the end of his career was bound to come, but you believed you’d have more time and you’d have more experiences turned memories for him to look back on. You find the camera in your handbag before gathering your laptop and USB. If now wasn’t the right time, you didn’t know when it would be. The clock tells you that you only have a couple hours, maybe more depending on how long he spends at the track. Thanks to the extra surge of emotions you’d been feeling tonight, the memories from your camera and a video production class you took in school many years ago, you’re able to pour it all into a little gift for him.

-

After watching it once through, you uploaded it onto a spare flashdrive. Luckily you had one that would’ve otherwise been used to store photos for daniel3.jpg.

You barely noticed that hours had gone by, the clock now reading 1:46am. Your heart breaks for Daniel. Despite being apart from him you know how he must be feeling. Yet above it all, you knew he’d be leaving with a smile.

-

The door clicks open.

Exhausted, Daniel drags his feet inside. He’s relieved to see you stayed awake for him. There’s nobody he’d rather be alone with right now. Without a word, he relaxes into your arms that are open and waiting for him, and his for you.

Unsure of how to start the conversation, you decide that you should let the video you made for him speak for itself. You hold him for as long as he needs, feeling his breathing steady into a calm rhythm.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Is it underneath this hoodie?” He teases suggestively, lips curling into a smile. He tugs at the bottom of the fabric to emphasize his point.

“Later.” You quip, taking his arm and patting a spot for him to sit next to you.

He looks utterly confused yet intrigued when you hand him a flashdrive, but puts it into the laptop anyway. “What is this?”

“You’ll see.”

Daniel clicks the play button on the black screen. The sounds of soft piano music is the first thing he hears before a picture of himself as a child illuminates the screen.

The voice of an interviewer plays over it, asking: “What would you tell your younger self?”

“Enjoy the butterflies, enjoy being naive, enjoy the nerves, the pressure, people not knowing your name… all that stuff. Enjoy the process of making a name for yourself, getting faster and faster with each lap, and meeting some great people along the way. Embrace the good ones, stay focused.”

A collection of pictures plays in sync with the audio of Daniel from his youth to now, edited in a perfect sequence. The clips show his best moments; his podiums, his shoeys, his radio messages, his laughs shared with fellow drivers, him riding into the Austin Grand Prix on Horsey McHorse, his fans cheering as he walks through Albert Park, hugging his niece before a race.

“You got to the dance in the first place doing what you do so don’t change too much. Don’t forget what got you here. Earn the parties, earn the drinks. Bring friends along, bring family along, don’t assume they’ll be a distraction, they might be something to take the weight off your shoulders on a race weekend, they’re also people to enjoy the moment with and to celebrate with, so don’t be afraid to surround yourself with people you care about and love.” The clips showed moments in the paddock with his fans, friends, family, and with you, always cheering for him.

The video shows him again, smiling wide as he reflects on some of the best lessons this life has shown him. “So, yeah. Get after it.”

Soft piano notes play once again, detailing ambivalent sounds that are yearning and wishful but also bring solace. Daniel is focused on the screen, so much so that he doesn’t pay attention to the tears that have started streaming down his face. In his eyes is love and gratitude for the journey he’s been on, and to you for reminding him of it in such a meaningful way. Your head rests on his shoulder carefully and you’re anxious to know what he’s thinking.

“You made that for me?”

“Mhm. I’ve been wanting to do something like this for you, I just didn’t know when it would be a good time to show you.”

“I guess there’s no better time than now, right?” Daniel mumbles, looking at you with admiration.

“I know you’ve been unsure of yourself for a while. And as much as I want to, there’s nothing I can do to change that. I don't always know what to say, so I thought, there’s no one better to tell you who you are than you.”

You take his face in your hands, gently brushing away any spare tears.

“But what I can tell you Daniel, is that I love you. I know you don’t want to be sad because you think you’ll be letting everyone down, but you could never let me down. You can be happy or sad or angry, you can shatter these lamps on the floor if you need to and I won’t be disappointed. If you let me, I’ll help you pick up the pieces. Whenever you feel alone, just remember you have me.”

Daniel can’t deny the way his heart warms at your words, an abundance of love and sincerity behind them. He tilts his head, pressing kisses to each of your wrists. “I love you, too. Even if I don’t deserve you.”

You scoff, harmlessly nudging him in response. “Shut up, they don’t deserve you. Fuck them all. That’s why I did that, to show you that there’s actually no one more deserving than you.”

“Yeah. Fuck ‘em all.” Daniel chuckles, looking down to hide the blush on his cheeks. You both sit there in a comforting silence, happy to be hidden away from the outside world for the night. With both of your busy schedules keeping you apart, times like these are especially important. There’s nobody you’d rather come home to, there’s nobody else that feels like a safe haven away from the cruel world that’s now turned its back on him.

“I can’t thank you enough, honey. I love you. I don’t know what the future holds… but I promise I’ll never take you for granted. How you always stick beside me, I’ll never know. It might be the end of an era in my career but I could never forget that I have you. You have me, too. When it comes to this,” Daniel gestures between the two of you, “I wouldn’t even know how to say goodbye.”

“And you won’t have to. We’ll never say goodbye.”

Your eyes twinkle and you press your lips to his, kissing him with a passion that can’t be put into words. Perhaps he didn’t get the fairytale ending he wanted and deserved in his career, but what he has here with you could easily pass as a fairytale of its own kind. It's what allows you both to sleep peacefully, knowing that whatever lies ahead, the only goodbye you won’t have to make is to each other.

a/n: comments, reblogs, and feedback is greatly appreciated! stay strong dr3 nation 💌

taglist: @marjorieswrld

[solxamber]

Knights and Oaths - Leona Kingscholar x reader

You come from a long line of knights that have served the rulers of the Savannah. But sometimes traditions are meant to change and the second prince is looking like someone worth changing them for.

The sun hangs low in the sky, painting the Savannah in golden hues as you approach the ceremonial grounds. It’s been years leading up to this moment—years of training, discipline, and growing up side by side with royalty. Your mother serves Falena’s wife, and your father serves the king himself. By all accounts, it’s expected that you’ll follow suit and dedicate your knightly oath to Cheka, the five-year-old prince. That’s just how it’s always been—loyalty passed down through the generations, swearing fealty to the rightful heirs of the Sunset Savannah.

But you’ve never been one for following expectations.

Not when you’ve spent your childhood in the shadow of two princes, one of them your closest companion and sometimes, greatest annoyance. Leona Kingscholar—second prince of the Sunset Savannah, the man who always seemed just a step away from what he could have been. Too lazy to reach it. Too proud to admit it.

When you were kids, Leona’s idea of "training" usually involved you chasing him around, trying to get him to spar when he’d much rather nap beneath the acacia trees. "What’s the point?" he’d grumble, arms folded behind his head, the sun casting dappled shadows across his face. "No matter how hard I try, Falena's the one everyone cares about."

Yet somehow, despite his best efforts to seem indifferent, you always found yourself drawn into his orbit. There was something about Leona that you couldn’t ignore—a pull, a desire to prove himself despite his constant veneer of nonchalance. You saw him in a way others didn’t. And maybe, somewhere along the way, he saw you too.

That’s why today feels different. Your whole life, everyone assumed your path was already written. You’d swear your oath to Cheka, Falena’s son, just as your parents had sworn theirs to Falena and his wife. It was expected, anticipated. But they didn’t know the whole story. They didn’t know about you and Leona, the time spent laughing, bickering, and—more often than not—arguing over ridiculous things like who could run faster or who could climb the tallest tree.

Now here you are, stepping into the hunting grounds, your sword at your side, ready to make your choice.

The hunt is a time-honored tradition. Whoever brings back the most impressive game gets to make their dedication. You can almost hear the whispers as you prepare—"Cheka’s knight," they call you. It’s been assumed for years. But they don’t know what’s coming.

The ceremony itself is simple enough. Each knight pledges their loyalty by dedicating their game to the person they swear to serve. It’s a public declaration of fealty, one made before the entire royal court. But there’s more at stake than just loyalty. The knight who brings back the most impressive game is awarded a golden rose—a symbol of something far deeper than duty.

Love.

Hours later, when you emerge from the hunt with the largest bear the kingdom has seen in years, all eyes are on you. The whispers grow louder, anticipation thick in the air. Everyone knows you’ve won the rose, and with it, the right to swear your loyalty. They’re expecting you to kneel before Cheka, the adorable five-year-old prince bouncing with excitement. Even Leona’s lounging nearby, watching the whole affair with that bored, half-lidded gaze of his, looking as if he might fall asleep at any moment.

But you? You have different plans.

With the golden rose in hand and your bear presented, you walk right past Cheka—past the gasps of the court, the murmurs of confusion, the stunned faces of your parents. And you kneel before Leona.

Leona’s eyes snap open, and for the first time in ages, he looks genuinely surprised. His eyebrows raise, just the barest fraction. "What are you doing?" he asks, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You grin, because of course he’s trying to play it off like this doesn’t matter. "Swearing my fealty, obviously," you say, loud enough for the court to hear. "I dedicate this hunt and the rose to Prince Leona Kingscholar."

The silence that follows is deafening. You can practically feel the jaws dropping across the Savannah. Even little Cheka’s mouth forms a perfect little "o" of shock.

For the first time all day, Leona stirs, the mask of indifference slipping just enough for you to catch the flicker of something beneath it—surprise, maybe, or something deeper. His eyes meet yours, sharper and more intense than ever, and for a moment, the world falls away.

Leona’s eyes narrow, a mixture of suspicion and amusement flickering across his face. "I thought you’d be on your knees for someone else," he drawls, his lips quirking up at the corners.

You shrug. "Everyone else may have decided my fate, but I make my own choices."

“For you, Leona,” you repeat, your voice steady and loud despite the pounding in your chest. “I dedicate my loyalty to you, and this rose... to the one who has always held my heart.”

He doesn’t say anything, just watches you, his expression unreadable. It’s Leona, after all. He doesn’t do grand gestures, never needed to. But you notice the way his fingers twitch, like he’s resisting the urge to reach out and take the rose immediately. When he finally speaks again, his voice is low, a bit rough around the edges, but there’s an unmistakable thread of satisfaction laced through it.

“You really know how to cause a scene, huh?”

There’s a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, and his gaze flicks down to the rose in your hand before meeting your eyes again. “A bear and a rose... For me?”

The teasing tone doesn’t hide the way his chest seems to expand just a little bit, like someone had finally acknowledged him for the first time in years. He reaches out and takes the rose from your hand, his fingers brushing yours in the briefest of touches. It feels electric, like every unspoken word between you is packed into that fleeting moment.

He twirls the rose once between his fingers, his smirk growing. “Guess I should thank you,” he says casually, though there’s a weight to his words, something you’ve rarely heard from him—appreciation. Real and tangible.

Leona stands up slowly, stretching as though this whole event is just another inconvenience, though the pride in his stance is unmistakable. He knows exactly what this means, both for you and for him. No one can dismiss him as just the second prince anymore, not after this. Not when someone like you, bound by honor and tradition, chose him. Over everyone else. Over Cheka. Over the kingdom’s expectations

He leans down, close enough that his breath is warm against your ear as he speaks softly, for you alone to hear. “I never thought you’d choose me. But I can’t say I’m not... pleased.”

Your heart does a strange, fluttering thing in your chest at his words, and you dare to meet his gaze, only to find a look there that you’ve never seen before. Something softer. Something real.

Before you can react, he tugs you in close, his arm settling around your waist in a way that feels both possessive and protective. The world narrows to just the two of you, the warmth of his body radiating through your armor. The smug grin he wears is softened by something deeper in his eyes—something that makes your heart skip a beat.

His hand lingers at your side, thumb brushing lightly against your hip, like he's claiming you just as much as you're dedicating yourself to him.

Before you can respond, he turns, still holding you close, and faces the crowd. The murmurs have turned to outright whispers of shock and disbelief, but Leona seems entirely unbothered by the spectacle you've made. In fact, he revels in it.

“This knight is mine,” he declares, his voice steady, ringing with finality. There’s no hesitation, no doubt—just that lazy confidence and a quiet triumph that says he’s more than pleased with your choice.

And in that moment, you know that, despite everything—his pride, his laziness, his gruff exterior—Leona Kingscholar is proud of you. Proud that you chose him, that you saw him, really saw him, when so many others didn’t. And as his arm tightens around you just a little, you can feel it too: the quiet, unspoken promise of what comes next.

A lifetime bound to the second prince—exactly the way you both want it.

Masterlist

he's so special to me :(((

[coupsiedaisee]

double the trouble, twice the fun | b.sk c.sc

when a mistake ruins an already terrible day, there's two people ready to make it better for you

pairing: boo seungkwan x f. reader x choi seungcheol genre: crime au, smut warnings: kissing, killing, guns, uses of daddy and puppy, oral, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie wordcount: 4.6k a/n: this was supposed to be a present for @hannieween for new years but i guess better late than never lol. happy valentines bbygirl i hope this ruins your day!

"We should get out of here," Mingyu says, standing up to grab his sniper off the ledge of the roof.

You had missed.

He packs his rifle into a hard case as you stay kneeling in shock, rough with the way he pushes it into its designated slot and clicks the case shut, slinging it over his shoulder like a backpack. "Earth to Venus, let's go," he says, bringing you out of your stupor.

You clamber to stand up, hands shaking as you gingerly set your rifle inside its case before throwing it over your shoulder like Mingyu.

You were 8 years old when you first shot a gun.

It was a foggy Sunday morning. Shaken out of your sleep, a jacket and earmuffs were shoved your way and next thing you knew, you were being driven to an abandoned barn on the outskirts of town.

Your father, a stoic bearded man with a gaze icy enough to freeze Calcifer, silently pressed a 9mm bronze pistol into your hands. It looked massive compared to the tiny thin fingers clutched around the handle. The metal was cool to the touch, a feeling you'd never forget.

The clicking of a lighter rang through the silent morning as your father lit up a cigarette, taking a long drag before breathing smoke out of his nose. He motioned his hand at something behind you and you tore your eyes away from the smoke wisping around his head.

Behind you, far on the other side of the barn, was a dummy. Or at least, that's what you supposed it was. It couldn't have been more than, say, 10 feet away. Dry hay bundled together with zip ties in the shape of what resembled a human body. A black target symbol was misshapenly drawn on a sheet of paper and tacked onto the "head."

You turn the gun over in your hand, chewing your lip. You'd never shot a gun before. What if you missed? Or worse, what if you missed and the bullet ricocheted off of one of the beams, hitting your father? The gun felt like a pound of bricks in your hand, and the thought weighed in your brain, equally as heavy.

There was a low grunt as your father shuffled to stand next to you. The lit cigarette stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he pulled a similarly coloured bronze revolver out from his pocket, aiming the barrel at the dummy, then pulled the trigger. With a bang, a single bullet shot through the air and straight through the paper-target-hay-dummy. The dummy tipped back from the force before falling forward, standing still and upright He took another slow drag of his cigarette, smoke blowing out into the cold air.

You didn't want to let him down and, wordlessly as he may be, you knew exactly what he wanted from you at that moment.

As you tried to mirror the way he stood, feet planted shoulder-width apart, he watched. Watched, the way your hands trembled to hold the gun up. Watched, how you swallowed nothing as you found your target and locked in.

Watched, as you pulled the trigger.

You're quiet on the ride back home.

Mingyu hums along to a soulful voice crooning the latest pop hit through the radio, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to match the beat.

Reeded wetlands soon turn into highrises as the car descends back into Seoul. Brightly lit signs reflect off the car window and you stare out into the city, watching as people come in and out of bars and clubs.

Normally it'd be you behind the wheel, but you hadn't trusted yourself. Accidentally killing Mingyu in a car crash would truly be the cherry on top of today's rotten cake and, thankfully, Mingyu was more than happy to take over..

It wasn't like you to put your life in anyone's hands but your own. At least, not since your father had died.

Cops had come, knocking at your door in the wee hours of the night. He jumped off the roof of an abandoned building. Paramedics didn't get there in time. We're sorry for your loss. You'd scoffed, even at 16 you could smell the stench of foul play.

It was the nail in your coffin for how truly alone you were in this world.

Your father, dead. Your mother, never in the picture to begin with. Friends? Ha, in your fucking dreams.

Though he may have left you all alone, he didn't leave you completely empty-handed. Your father left behind exactly two things: one, the small hovel you'd called home your entire life, and two, his bronze revolver.

The flat was easy enough to get rid of. Sold under the table to some shady "realtor" who most likely didn't even pay half of what it was actually worth, but you weren't complaining. That black cash kept you afloat for a long time.

As for the revolver, you used it for what you'd hoped your father would have wanted you to.

You used it to find yourself a job.

It started with odd jobs and always with someone different—you never worked for the same man twice. The first few didn't even pay you properly but you used the cash you had to bounce around town, staying hidden in the shadows of the city. Most of the time, finding the poor sucker was half the battle, all they'd give you was a name.

It wasn't long till word got around the city of a new hitman—hitgirl—who worked so eerily similar to a man they'd known to be dead. You'd begun to make decent money, but that didn't stop you from flat-hopping. You liked your anonymity. The detachment from people around you. In a sort of backwards way, it was the most comforting part of your life.

A few years back, when you were recruited into SVT as their resident sniper, Mingyu tore through that comfort with large garden shears, hacking away with impudence only a 6'3" man could hold. Show me how to shoot. I want to become a marksman. I heard you're the best. Left on the floor were scraps of a lonely little girl. A girl who wasn't even remembered, so she couldn't be forgotten.

Dokyeom, or Smiley Dokyeom as you liked to call him, is waiting in the front hall when you two pull into the driveaway. He thinks he's being slick, but you see his round eyes peek through the window of the front door.

You don't wait for Mingyu to put the car in park, manually unlocking the door to get out, not bothering to grab your rifle from the back seat.

The front door to the house opens before you can even grab the doorknob. Dokyeom has his signature wide sunshine smile as he holds the door open for you. You stalk past him without even a glance, and you don't see the way his smile drops. As you slip into your room, you hear Mingyu, "Don't take it to heart DK, she's just—" You don't wait to hear him finish, closing the door behind you with a resounding slam.

You tear your clothes off, stumbling as your arm gets stuck taking off your shirt. Kicking the pile into a corner, you pull on an oversized sleep shirt and ungracefully fall face-first into bed.

Today has been a terrible day. An awful day. A downright atrocious day.

From the moment you awoke, nothing has gone your way.

First, you're pretty sure something was growing in the milk carton this morning. Smiley Dokyeom was supposed to have cleaned the fridge out so that he and Mingyu could do a grocery run later this week. Well, he didn't. And now, the last bowl of Cheerios was covered in fuzzy green stuff.

You had to go sans breakfast, a fantastic start to your morning.

Second, your holster suddenly broke at its seams, falling apart into two and forcing you to keep a pistol in your waistband.

Third, Mingyu and his too-long-for-anyones-good legs had tripped you going up the stairs. He'd caught you before you keeled over the edge of the stairwell and fell to your death, but the same could not be said for the pistol that slipped out of your waistband. Luckily, it didn't go off when it hit the ground.

And fourth, your magnum opus. The pièce de résistance.

You. Had. Missed.

This was a first. Never, within your memory, had you ever missed a shot on an assignment.

Best sniper in Seoul, your ass. You were pathetic. A disgrace. A blight on your team.

How the fuck could you miss. You scream into your pillow and burrow further into your blankets, rolling around till you're burrito-ed into them.

As hired hitmen, the job was rarely as simple as today's. SVT was not a particularly large organization, but you lot could handle more than one would think. Each of the 14 members had their own specialities. You were their designated lead sniper, with Mingyu as your second when you needed one. Dokyeom is an accountant by trade, taking care of any and all transactions, always keeping the money flowing into SVT, always needing to know how the job went. But don't let his sunshine smile fool you, he's got the knife work to rival that of Mr. Lecter, and has no problem utilizing it.

There are more though.

Need to break into someone's computer system? Need to find someone on an airplane manifest? Woozi, the tech god, is your man. Need someone beaten up within an inch of their life, but still keep that life? The8's got a mean right hook.

Today's job was elementary: find the two marks, kill them. Truly could not get any simpler than that.

The first shot went straight through the window, shattering it, then barely grazing the mark's shoulder. The second, into his head, right between his eyes. However, there never should have been a second—

There's a knock at the door.

You lay still in your bed, letting your breathing go even, hoping whoever it was would turn around and leave.

Rap, rap, rap. A pause. Then the door opens just enough for The8 to pop his head in.

"He's asking for you," says The8.

You groan, rubbing your hands over your face, "Tell him I'm preoccupied. Too busy planning my own funeral."

"Tell him yourself," he deadpans and then does the worst, leaves without closing the door.

You kick yourself out of your cocoon of blankets. As if today could not get any worse, you were about to get a talking-to.

Begrudgingly, you drag yourself up to the fourth floor, where there is only one door at the end of a long and winding hallway. His door.

When you go to knock, you find it's already open and you push through.

The room is empty. A tall lamp sits in the corner, casting a faint amber glow atop a velour reading chair. Near it, a massive california king sized bed, neatly made, corners drawn tight. The window behind it is open, letting a cool breeze flow through the room. A shiver rolls down your back, and the hairs on your arms stand up.

"Boo," a voice whispers, hot breath fanning across your ear.

You react instantly, swivelling around to grab at the intruder. They sidestep your reach, grabbing you by the arm and spinning you back around, keeping both your arms bent behind you.

"Oh, you are off your game today," they drawl. Boo Seungkwan. You struggle in his hold, trying to elbow your way out of it, but his grip is tight and unrelenting.

Boo Seungkwan. President. CEO. Leader. The boss man. Whatever you want to call him, he's in charge. The top dog calling all the shots.

"I am not off my game," you hiss. "It was one mistake."

A shove from behind, and you're falling to the floor, letting out an oof as you hit the ground. You scramble to sit up on your knees, pulling at the hem of your sleep shirt to cover yourself as much as possible.

"Yes, but you don't make mistakes, do you?" He says, voice mirthless.

You bow your head, giving it the smallest of shakes.

His hand is back, this time roughly gripping your chin and forcing you to look up into his eyes.

Dark, sharp eyes, mildly shaded by dark inky hair with strands of grey coming through. You drop your gaze lower to his full cheeks, and plush, full lips.

You gulp.

"Look at me when I ask you a question." Seungkwan squeezes at your jaw, the pads of his fingers digging into your cheek, then throws your face aside,

"So?" He says, not sparing you a single glance as he takes his jacket off, going to hang it in the armoire. He bites the finger of one of his gloves to pull it off, pulling the other off with his free hand. "Give me your report, pup."

You keep your eyes trained on him, watching intently as he unclasps his watch, setting it down next to the gloves. "Woozi procured information this morning that Kang Juyeon and Lee Kangin would be meeting today. He gave a location and a time. Once Mingyu and I confirmed the location, we used a nearby building to take them down from afar. On the way up, we unfortunately lost a pistol. While taking out one of the marks, I missed my first shot and released a second bullet to kill them. Both marks died on the scene and there was no evidence of us left behind.

"Except a pistol."

Your jaw clenches, "The pistol is untraceable, both by make and bullet. We have also taken extreme caution to prevent any fingerprints from being left behind."

Seungkwan nods as he unbuckles his belt, pulling it off and meticulously rolling it up before setting it inside the armoire.

"And do you feel today's assignment was successful?" He asks, unbuttoning his pants and slowly peeling them off.

Your breath hitches at the sight of his toned thighs, "N-no."

"No?" Seungkwan quirks an eyebrow at you.

"We completed our assignment today, yes." You hesitate for a moment, chewing your lip, "But, with today's mistake, I would not consider the assignment a success."

Seungkwan tilts his head, staring you down while clad in nothing but tight black boxer briefs and a fitted white crewneck. "I see."

He does not elaborate and, instead, saunters over to the bed, taking a seat at the foot.

"Come here," he commands. You make to stand up and Seungkwan shakes his head, clicking his tongue with a tsk, "Stay on your knees."

Your mouth dries up, and you nod, leaning forward onto all fours. As you crawl over to him, a cool breeze floats across your barely clothed pussy, and you pray no one else walks in, feeling unbelievably exposed.

Seungkwan leans back on his hands, his honey thighs spread apart before you, cock bulging against the black cloth of his boxer briefs.

"Get up." You start to stand. "And take those off," he says, motioning to your lower half.

You falter, "My panties?"

Seungkwan's eyes darken, "Don't make me ask twice, pup."

Your fingers hesitate with the waistband of your panties, before pulling them down and letting them drop to the floor, stepping out of them.

"Good girl," he says in a low voice. The praise goes immediately to your core, and you can feel yourself getting wet.

Seungkwan pats his thigh silently, and you don't need him to tell you to know what he wants.

You climb up onto the bed, straddling his thigh with a knee on either side. The second the cool, smooth, expanse of his skin touches your bare pussy, you shudder,

"Ride me puppy."

You start to move, bracing yourself by bringing a hand to his shoulder.

Seungkwan watches you like he's assessing you. As though he's a professor and you're grades are dependent on how well you cum on his thighs.

He flexes his thigh and your hips stutter, if only for a moment, and then continue grinding, dragging yourself back and forth along his thigh. As your pleasure builds, little gasps start to leave your mouth. Each drag brings you closer and closer to the peak and your fingers dig harder into his shoulder.

Any thoughts about today's assignment are gone as your mind clouds over. Just as you feel as though you're getting close to the edge, Seungkwan's hands come to either side of your hips, stilling your movements and holding you in place. When you try to move, his fingertips dig in, forcing your hips to stay still.

Though he makes no inclination, you know he can feel the way your pussy pulsates against his thigh and, for a moment, you wonder if you could clench against his thigh in place and bring yourself to orgasm that way.

"Don't even think about it," he says in a low growl.

A whine leaves your lips and your forehead drops to his. "Seungkwan, please," you whimper. Seungkwan lets your little breaths skate across his face before leaning up to close the distance between your lips, leaving a chaste kiss, a rare moment of softness.

"Go on," he says firmly, loosening the hold on your hips.

Slowly, you begin to gyrate. You can hear how wet you are with every roll of your hips. Seungkwan flexes his thigh muscles once more, and you let out a gasp that soon turns into a breathy moan, "Fuck, that feels good."

Again, Seungkwan stops you, hands digging into your hips. You nearly cry out in frustration, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, and your chest undulating with every breath. You understand now that this is a punishment.

There's a sound at the door, and someone hurries in, bag crashing against the doorway as they step through.

"Are you starting without me?" says a deep voice hurriedly. Choi Seungcheol.

Choi Seungcheol. Cocky, rowdy, hammer enthusiast, boxing enthusiast, Seungkwan's right-hand man, and menace to society.

There's a clunk as his bag hits the floor, and footsteps pad across the room till a warm body presses up against your back, boxing you in.

"I can't believe you started without me, hyung." His fingers play at the hem of your shirt, and you raise your arms so he can pull it off, tossing it aside. You're wearing nothing underneath and your bare nipples perk at the sudden exposure. "But, god do I get why."

Seungcheol cups your breasts from behind and begins playing with your nipples, pinching and rubbing them between two fingers. His hands don fingerless gloves, and the cool leather leaves a trace of goosebumps wherever they touch your skin. He leans down to suck little kisses down your neck and on your shoulders. You throw your head back against his chest, mouth parted to let out quiet whimpers.

"Gods, you sound so good for us, pup," He hums into your shoulder and the vibrations go straight to your pussy. "Why don't you go ahead and cum for us then?" You look to Seungkwan, your eyes heavily lidded in lust, waiting for the okay.

Seungkwan, who's been quiet, gives a short, barely there, nod. He reaches his hand up to cup your jaw and slips his thumb into your mouth.

It's all you need and you begin to roll your hips against Seungkwan's taut thighs, pleasure coursing through. You give his thumb a harsh suck and a moan as the wave of your orgasm comes crashing down.

Any chance of some post-nut clarity is gone as Seungkwan grabs you by the back of the neck with his free arm and rips you away from Seungcheol, rolling you over onto the bed. Your head barely touches the mattress before Seungkwan's thumb is replaced by his lips, thighs quivering as Seungkwan's clothed cock grinds into your sensitive pussy.

Seungcheol fumbles around in the background as he tries to get undressed as quickly as possible, thumping against the dresser as he struggles to pull off his last pant leg.

At the sound of something clattering to the ground, Seungkwan sucks harshly at your bottom lip. His hand finds its way down between your legs, fingers coating themselves in your arousal before pushing a digit in.

You shudder against his lips as he pushes another finger in and begins pumping them at a glorious pace.

"You'll let us do anything to you, won't you pup?" Seungkwan curls his finger inside you, deliciously hitting your g-spot and you cry out, hips rising off the bed. "Answer me," he growls.

"Oh, oh, I—yes. Anything. You can—oh—do anything."

Seungkwan seems to like this answer, as his lips curl up into a sneer. He has you writhing under him as he begins to move his fingers faster.

Your walls spasm as you squeeze your eyes shut, overwhelmed, cumming all over his fingers. He pumps you through your high and when you open your eyes, Seungcheol is standing next to the bed, completely naked, hard cock coated in his precum as he pumps it in languid strokes.

Your mouth starts watering at the sight. Seungkwan gives your pussy a tight slap, as if to remind you who's still in charge, and it stings deliciously.

"Come here," Seungcheol says. Seungkwan climbs off the bed without saying anything and you take his lack of argument as an okay. You roll over to crawl to Seungcheol and he bends down to capture your lips in a kiss. His hand slides into your hair, gripping it tightly and giving it a slight tug as he nips at your lower lip. He stands straight again and tips your head back the slightest bit, "Open up, pup."

You open your mouth, like the good pup you are, and Seunghceol nudges his mushroom tip against your open lips. You suck around his tip, lapping at his cockhead with little kitten licks. He holds the back of your head, slowly pushing his cock in deeper and deeper. He then starts to thrust, slow at first, then picking up speed. Your jaw aches trying to accommodate his girth.

"Shit pup, god gave you that filthy mouth just for daddy's cock, didn't he?" says Seungcheol, holding your head with both his hands and fucking faster into your mouth. You can't stop the desperate moan that comes from your throat and it's enough to send Seungcheol over his edge. He curses, holding your head still against his cock as cums into your mouth and down your throat, the excess dribbling out and making a mess down your chin.

Seungcheol's breathing is heavy as he pulls out and you stick a tongue out to lick up the cum that's escaped your mouth. He lets out another curse and swoops down to capture your lips in a rough kiss.

When you separate, Seungcheol looks at you with a look that can only be described as hungry. But he doesn't act on it. He knows how far he's allowed to go today.

"She's all yours hyung," Seungcheol says over your shoulder before stepping away, and heading to go shower. You feel the bed dip behind you and you turn to see Seungkwan, shirt and boxer briefs discarded, cock hard, angry and pink.

Seungkwan makes no effort to be as gentle as Seungcheol was, roughly pushing you back onto the bed and your legs apart. He rubs the length of his cock up against your folds, letting your creamy wet ess coat him and you mewl when his head nudges your sensitive clit. Then, he lines up against your entrance and pushes in, all in one go. He hisses as your walls squeeze around him, sheathing him like a glove. Your hips swivelling to get his cock in deeper as he begins to thrust. Seungkwan lifts one of your legs, as he slams into you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," You cry with each thrust.

"You're so fucking tight," Seungkwan hisses, grunting with each thrust. A cacophony of your moans, his grunts, and the slapping of skin on skin echo through the room and you wonder if Seungcheol can hear it over the sound of his shower.

Seungkwan's hand travels up past your breasts and grips the lightest of holds on your neck, but it's enough to have you tipping into hell, your eyes rolling back over the heightened pleasure. At the feeling of your walls convulsing around his cock, Seungkwan lets go too, shuddering from his orgasm as he cums inside you.

The two of you lay there for a moment, skin to skin, as you both breathe heavily from both your orgasms. He slowly pulls out, using two fingers to scoop up his cum leaking out of you and pushes it back into your pussy. You whine at the sensation, your pussy sensitive from the overstimulation.

Seungkwan lets you lay in the sheets, your energy spent. He throws half the comforter over you and crawls off the bed. You feel yourself drift off to dreamland for just a moment before being awoken by the sound of Seungcheol coming out of the bathroom. He's only donning a towel around his hips, chest glistening with a sheen of moisture.

Seungkwan stands by bathroom the door. "Come here, pup," he commands. You swear your legs are made out of jello but you also know he doesn't like asking twice. You do your best to walk over without collapsing and Seungkwan takes you into the shower.

The shower is one of the few places Seungkwan lets a soft side out. He lets the water spray over you and starts with your hair first, lathering shampoo in it. The feeling of him massaging the shampoo into your scalp is soothing and you close your eyes for a moment.

He tucks a wet strand behind your ear, "About today's job, pup."

Your eyes fly open, "Yes?"

His gaze flits between your eyes, bringing a hand around to cup your cheek. "Get it together. Don't let it happen again." He pats you firmly on the cheek twice.

"I—yes sir."

Seungkwan is satisfied with your answer and finishes rinsing you off. Then he ushers you out, preferring to clean himself up alone and join you both in bed afterwards. You dry yourself up and wrap a fluffy black bathrobe around your naked body.

Seungcheol's already in bed, having finished changing the sheets and switching out the comforter for a new one. He flips the edge of the comforter over so you can slide in next to him. You slip your robe off, letting it fall on the floor, and get in.

Seungcheol lets you run your hand down his body, feeling that he's completely naked, and also completely hard. You know what comes next, turn over to face your back to him. Then you feel it, the press of his hard cock against the back of your ass as it finds your folds. As he rubs his cock against your entrance, he reaches an arm around to rub languid circles against your clit. You feel arousal pooling once more between your legs and you let out a gasp as Seungcheol slips his fat cock in, pushing into the hilt.

Seungcheol stops the fingers on your clit, instead bringing the arm around your waist and pressing a soft kiss against your bare shoulder.

"You did well today, pup. Go on, go to sleep now"

a/n: i hope y'all liked this :3 i feel like seungseung couple is so underrated so this is my horny love letter to that hehe. pls let me know your thoughts and feelings and what nots!!!! id love to hear any feedback u guys have! thank yoooou, daisee out~

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