#When Dream tells them to stop they fuckin jump back

[somegrumpynerd]

I think that nightmare living with his boys after the truce(actually even before that) is literally hearing a clink and him yelling "KILLER, DUST, GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN AND STOP FIGHTING"

(I don't know if I worded that right so I'm sorry if you can't understand-)

Oh absolutely!! When Nightmare hears rummaging around in any room he has to go check, because usually it's just Horror preparing food or one of them doing something, but there's always a chance he's about to break up a fight

What I like to imagine is how long after an agreed truce (and assuming Dream comes to visit now and then) does Dream feel confident enough to break up the fights

(He's very good at it, as it turns out)

[headkiss]

can I request joel taking care of reader who is seriously injured? I’m thinking maybe something gets infected and she gets really sick, so he is catering to her every need? I love the hurt/comfort dynamic because I feel like his love language is acts of service!!

hiii it’s a teeny bit different but i hope u still like it!!! | 0.7k angst to fluff, tw for an injury and blood!

“You’re gonna be fine.”

The voice is so clearly Joel’s, that you could never miss, but you can’t tell if it’s real. Your vision is hazy, ears ringing, you’re not sure where you are anymore.

It all happened so fast. Your shift with Joel, the raiders coming out from nowhere, fighting them off, the searing pain of a knife in your side. Everything after that is blank, slipping in and out of consciousness.

“You hear me? You’re gonna be okay,” it’s him again, and you can feel his arms around you, carrying you back to Jackson, probably.

“Joel,” you muster out his name before closing your eyes again.

“‘M right here.”

He’s trying his best to be composed, to be strong for you, but the blood soaking your shirt has his hands shaking and his mind reeling with a memory that never seems to stop haunting him. But he won’t lose you, he can’t.

By the time Jackson comes into view, you’ve been quiet, but Joel’s hand that holds your head up can feel the pulse in your neck. You’re gonna live because you have to, because he can’t lose you, especially not like this. Not when he hasn’t said the things he wants to tell you.

Tommy’s the one who sees Joel carrying you first, and then there’s yelling and people clearing a path, and then Joel’s laying you down on a bed at the doctor’s.

It feels like hours in the waiting room before someone steps out and Joel stands right away.

“It’s gonna be alright,” the doctor says, nodding to the hall behind him, “go ahead.”

Joel doesn’t waste a second, nodding and rushing back into the room. He finds you, laying down, breathing, alive. He pulls up the guest chair and sits down next to your bed, reaching out and grabbing your hand.

When you wake up, you feel something cool being pressed to your forehead. Your senses come back slowly, hearing Joel’s voice mumbling something you can’t make out, then feeling his hand clasped around yours. To make sure you aren’t dreaming it up, you squeeze his hand.

“Come on, wake up,” you hear him say, his thumb running back and forth over your skin. Joel’s never been a man of many words, but he tells you enough with the few he uses.

You blink your eyes open slowly, fluttering and wincing at the brightness until you can see the ceiling of the doctor’s place. You lull your head to the side and see him, hair a mess, eyebrows furrowed (like usual), a frown on his face.

“Joel?” You croak out.

His eyes flick over to yours, and he lifts a damp washcloth from your forehead with the hand that isn’t holding onto yours.

“You’re awake.”

“Everything hurts,” you say, trying to sit up.

“Stop. Let me help you, okay?” He doesn’t let you answer, lifting you gently with an arm around your shoulders to put an extra pillow behind your back. His hand is still in yours. “Can I do something?”

“Water would be nice.”

Joel doesn’t waste a second, twisting around to grab a glass of water on the table next to your bed and then lifting it to your mouth. He tilts it for you, too.

“I could’ve done that,” you say as he puts the glass back down.

“I don’t want you hurting yourself. You lost a lot of blood, and you’ve got stitches.”

It’s then you remember what really happened to you. The raiders, the pain, the flashes of Joel helping you home.

“You saved my life.”

“Did you really think I’d leave you, sweetheart?”

Joel calls you ‘sweetheart’ on rare occasions, when he can’t seem to stop it from slipping, and every time, it makes your heart do a stupid jump.

“No, Joel. I didn’t.”

As quiet as he is, as closed-off and often grumpy, you know that he cares about people, about you.

“I was really fuckin’ scared,” he says, pushing damp baby hairs from your forehead, “I thought I didn’t really get scared anymore.”

“You’re not as cold as you think, Joel.” You blink slowly, squeeze his hand again just to be sure you aren’t hallucinating, “you’re not cold at all.”

“Not with you.”

Joel wants to say so much more, and he will, someday, but he can tell you’re exhausted, your blinks growing longer, heavier. It’s like you’re fighting to stay awake, to keep talking to him.

“You can sleep, sweetheart,” he says, his hand shifting to rest on the side of your head. “You need the rest.”

“Will you stay?”

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

He’ll stay as long as you’ll have him.

[meatonfork]

Thank you so much for fulfilling my platonic TF141 dreams!!, you can't imagine how bad i need a platonic relationship with them and how hard it's to find similar content for god's sake you're a true saviour 💗 If your RQs are open can i ask for a teenage/young adult reader (17-21)? Where the reader was a hostage before they got rescued by the TF141 and for some reason the reader has to stay with them temporarily for their own safety? I can see the reader bonding with them like some kind of family after the reader was closed off bc of Thier trauma, I also imagine the team giving the reader some kind of code name as a way to make them feel welcomed 💗

thank you for this idea! so lovely, i hope this is up to your needs! :’)

———————————————————————————————————————

Found Family

pairings: platonic 141 x grim

warning: hostage situation, grim is scared of big storms, usual cod violence

summary: the story of grim’s call sign, and how they joined tf141

———————————————————————————————————————

you were only 17 when you enlisted. you felt an obligation to your, now dead, family to serve. to help protect others.

you later found it to be one of the best decisions ever made. pretty smart if you asked yourself.

but, at the time you were constantly overlooked because of your small stature.

for about a year, you never had a call sign. just your last name. it never really bothered you, until now.

now you were caught in a stupid safe house after a task force had to come get you after being captured mid-mission.

they were all nice, except the guy with the skull mask. he didn’t talk much.

a large storm had stopped the team and yourself from being able to leave the area. your next best option was some safe house that ghost knew of.

trekking through the woods in a huge storm with minor injuries- cuts, scrapes, and bruises, was the last thing you wanted to do. but, you really didn’t have a choice.

“what happened to you, kid?” price’s voice was raised so you could hear him over the wind.

“fuckin’ teammate threw me back towards the enemy. got caught.” you were pissed, and your tone made that clear.

price nodded, letting out a hum.

“you got a call sign yet?” soap’s voice cut in this time.

“nah. no one bothered to give me one.” you shrug, but it secretly bothered you. you were the only one in your squad without one.

“you’ll get one soon, don’t worry.”

you nodded and continued following ghost.

a loud clap of thunder made you jump. you lost your footing, but ghost’s large hand quickly snapped out and grabbed your arm.

“you good?”

“yeah. hate storms.”

“we’re all scared of somethin’.” his tone wasn’t comforting, but you tell he was trying to be.

“yeah, i know.”

you finally made it to the safe house, quickly rushing to the bathroom to change out of your soaked clothes.

walking out, you saw everyone sitting on a couch, also changed. you joined them, sitting in a chair, making yourself comfortable.

gaz quickly spoke up, “how you feelin’ now?”

“warmer. definitely war-“ another clap of thunder interrupted you.

“you’re good, just a storm.” he offered a reassuring smile, but it didn’t do much to calm your nerves. your small hands unconsciously started to shake.

“let’s come up with a call sign, yeah?” soap could see your nerves from a mile away. hell, if he tried hard enough he could probably smell them.

“uh, yeah. sure!” you smiled softly at him, tucking a strand of damp hair behind your ear.

“you got any strong character traits? embarrassing stories?”

“uhhh… no.” you frowned. “i mean, im pretty small, obviously, but i don’t want to be known for it. you lot can already see it.” your voice wavered slightly as the storm continued raging. rain beat down on the windows like a continuous line of drums.

“yeah, that’s reasonable. hmm.” this time gaz tried making names for you.

this continued for a long while, usually ending in laughs at how ridiculous their ideas were.

ghost even chimes in with ‘bee’ because you were so small, but seemingly could hold yourself, but your distaste for them quickly shut that down.

“oh! one time, on a mission, my squad ran into some real trouble. we couldn’t get backup, it was too compromised. we were stuck in this warehouse, the enemy had us cornered. only me and one other teammate were in the room. we got split off. anyway, he was injured bad. like, on the verge of death, bad.” you were talking animatedly. hands moving about and face scrunching. the boys sat quietly. this was the most you’ve talked, having been too nervous all night.

“he couldn’t do much to help us. i was just a rookie, little experience, but enough to get by with backup. when i saw at least five men coming up to us, i panicked. i guess i just stopped thinking. i blacked out, don’t remember much. but when i clocked back in, my partner looked terrified, yet amazed.” your voice was growing softer.

“there was blood everywhere. i couldn’t tell what was mine or their’s. all he said was, ‘jesus. that was fucking grim. you good?’ i think about it quite often.” your movements slowed, and your eyes glazed a bit.

“damn, kid. i think i found a name for ya.” ghost finally chimes in. a chuckle left price.

your small figure, curled in a ball, looked at all the men. most held amusement. amused that someone that small had the ability to take out so many men.

“glad to meet ya, grim.” soap’s smile was large.

“nice to meet you lot, too.” you gave one back.

———————————————————————————————————————

a/n: thanks for reading!! hope you enjoyed <3

[pervspace]

This is my last Leon req i swear!! Perverted Leon who cannot get enough of m!readers thighss!! He can't help but dream of squishing them and fuckin in between them. It's not as good as the real deal tho ♡

warnings: nsfw, m.reader, pervert!leon, he’s like a desperate puppy :((, somnophila, kinda cliffhanger ending cause i lowkey wanna make a pt2 cause i love this sm aaaaa

word count: 797

note: aaaa i loved writing this please keep sending requests!!!

—

he felt ashamed of himself, he really was just a pervert. you and leon have been friends for years, you two shared a home, shared a bed, shared practically everything. you two were just friends though, that’s what was driving him almost mad. how was he supposed to act normal when his cock was threatening to jump out of his jeans whenever he saw your thighs, the way they would expand whenever you sat down, how they jiggled when you walked, how they would spill over the fabric of your thigh highs. he even got to take a picture of you where your thighs were clear and visible, he’s found himself doing perverted stuff when thinking to your thighs.

constantly fucking into any object that reminded him of your thighs, he felt so ashamed fucking into one of your pillows like a dog in heat. humping the soft fabric until his cock started to hurt, he was overstimulating himself before he even came. he couldn’t help it, it was your fault! how could you walk around in such slutty shorts and not expect him to get hard? you had to be doing it on purpose is what he tried to tell himself, it had to be you teasing him on purpose. he was driving himself insane, his cock was begging for him to stop the relentless abuse but he just couldn’t. he came onto every polaroid of you, the bottom of his shirt stuffed into his mouth to prevent the whimpers and moans that spilled from his pretty pink lips. he decided he was going to take a step up tonight, he was going to try something new.

“leon…get it together, this is so fucked.” he was absolutely right, he shouldn’t be in your room at 2am watching you sleep, he shouldn’t be gently taking the covers off your sleeping frame to see your body. his cock jumped at the sight of your sleeping body, the way you looked so peaceful and beautiful like this. “fuck…can’t help it m’sorry…it hurts if i don’t touch it…” he pulled your thighs together and just stared like a deer in headlights, tugging his sweatpants down he palmed his cock through his boxers. he had already soaked through the fabric with his pre cum, it was a pathetic sight to see…him desperately pumping into his hands while staring at your thighs, he even stole a pair of your boxers to shove in his mouth to keep him quiet.

he was suffocated in your scent, you lingered in every one of his senses. he brushed his palm against his angry red tip and let out a choked out moan, he really should stop. you could wake up at any minute and catch him being a filthy perv! he couldn’t stop his hips from moving up to meet his hand, his eyes were wet and glossy with tears. everything felt so good when it was influenced by you, he had never felt this good touching himself when he was just watching porn. it was you, all he wanted was you, but there’s no way you would have him. not after the sinful acts he’s committing in your room at the moment, you would definitely move out and never speak to him.

“m’sorry…’m such a bad boy…please fo-forgive me.”he was begging for you, he wasn’t quite sure what he was begging for but he needed it. his balance was unsteady as he fucked his hand faster, his palm twtisting all around his tip. he felt the knot in his stomach tighten uncomfortably, he wanted to cum on you, but he knows he couldn’t.

cum on his thighs, you can clean it up later.

n-no that’s not-

you deserve it, you’ve worked hard and you’ve held back from bending him over and fucking him raw.

don’t wanna it-its bad if i-

you’ll never get this opportunity again, just cum.

he tried to hold back, he really did. he just couldn’t behave himself around you, he was just a gross pervert. “m’sorrysorrysorry…pleaaasseee forgive me baby i-i’m gonna cu-cum…!” he let out a final drawn out whine before cumming all over your thighs, he pumped himself through his orgasm. his body was ruined with aftershocks of his sinful actions, his cum was spread so beautifully across your thighs. he was a bad boy, the absolute worst boy ever. how could he do something like that? he quickly left the room out of pure embarrassment. he came on his best friend's thighs while he was sleeping, he laid in his own bed thinking over and over about what he just did.

he was woken up by the bright sun peaking through his blinds and a warm wet breath against his ear, “what a pervert you are, kennedy.”

[ysljoon]

Hey savvvv<3 So i have a request, can you write like a established relationship smut of like simon (from cod) going absolutely feral while you ride his face? Thank youuu love you pookie🤍🤍

riding simon 'ghost' riley's face

warnings: oral (f receiving), use of pet names (lovie, sweetheart), afab reader (no use of y/n), overstimulation a/n: jay i really hope you like this im sorry for the delay oh em gee <3 MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)

Simon had been gone on an operation for two months and you were counting down the days until he was home. Today was the day and you were sitting on the couch busily scrolling through different apps to keep yourself occupied. You couldn’t tell if it was minutes or hours until you heard the lock to the door turn and squeak on its hinges. You jumped up from your seat and scampered to see Simon placing his duffel bags on the floor and starting to take off the balaclava. Once the mask was off he met your eyes and and you couldn’t contain yourself you leapt yourself on to him and he caught you with ease. You planted kisses on every corner of his face you could reach, not even caring about the residual paint around his eyes.

“Simon, I missed you so much.” You tucked your head into his neck muffling your words a little.

“I missed you too lovie.” He traveled through the home with you still clinging on to him and once he found the bedroom he positioned you on the edge and started to kiss you with more passion and hunger. You loved when Simon used his height to dominate you and having him looming over you right now is all you dreamed about while he was away. Your hands roamed around all over his body and you felt some relief when you didn’t feel any new wounds on his torso and only the old scars you have become acquainted with over the years. 

You moved your hands down to his belt buckle and he stopped you by grabbing your wrists while not even pulling away from your lips. His reflexes never failed to leave you in awe. “You don’t hafta do anythin’ for me tonight. I’m gonna make up for all the time I left you alone. Gonna make my girl feel so good.” Hearing his gruff voice mixed with the intentions he had for you had you clenching your thighs together to get some relief for yourself. This action did not go missed by Simon. “Aw my poor girl needs to get off so bad. Let me help you sweetheart.” He crawled on to the bad so he was right above you and slid your pants fully off till you were only left in your shirt (its his shirt actually but that's neither here nor there) and panties. He pressed a thumb to your aching clit and rubbed small and slow circles but it was enough to already have you twitching. He was teasing your covered cunt and you let out whiny little whimpers hoping that was enough to give Simon enough of a hint that you need more. Simon usually would make you use your words to beg for what you need from him, but he was already mean enough for having to leave you for months. He doesn't want to make this harder for you tonight knowing how needy both you and him are.

He moved his face in between your legs and nipped the waistband of your panties and dragged them down to your ankles. He released the cloth from between his teeth and placed a gentle kiss on your very sensitive bud. “Come sit on my face lovie I need to taste you so bad. I’ve thought about your delicious fuckin’ cunt day in and day out while I was gone I need it.” You positioned yourself over his lips and while you had planned to only hover he wrapped his arms around your thighs and dragged you down till your fully bodyweight sank down on him. His lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked with so much force it had your back arching and you were crying out. Your hands tried to find purchase and clutched onto his shoulders. “C-Christ Simon. I won’t last at all if you keep it up.” “Just keep takin’ it sweetheart.” He punctuated his sentence with a nibble on your thigh and swiped his tongue along your soaked slit and inserted it inside. He hungrily ate you out and you felt an impending orgasm coming and you grinded against his tongue for extra pressure.

Your orgasm consumed your whole body and your thighs trembled around SImon’s head. You thought he would give you a small break before continuing, but he kept going and the overstimulation had you trying to pry yourself off of Simon’s face but his muscular arms gripped you in place and you couldn’t escape. “No use running from me lovie, I’m a man starved. Hope you get comfortable because you’re gonna be here for a long while.” You looked down and saw his smirk with your essence dripping down his chin.

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Thirty-One: Eddie Munson + Costumes

"Teddy, will you look at me, please!" You beg him as you stand at the doors entrance of his bedroom. Eddie is working hard on another company idea for his nuggets. "Baby" Eddie whines to you; you give it right back to him, "Please, Eddie, all I wanna do is show you a few things I got today at the costume store."

At the word 'costume,' Eddie turns his head, black hair getting caught in front of his eyes. "You've got my attention, sweet thing." You smile triumphantly. "So, while I was out today, I saw a new costume store near Melvalds General Store." Eddie nods along with you.

"I picked up just a few, but I wanted to do a fashion show for you, Teddy." Eddie smiles with an atwinkle of his eye as you call him your favorite nickname. "Well then, do a fashion show for me, baby." You jump with excitement, grabbing the bag at the end of Eddie's bed.

Eddie watches as you leave the room, a happy sway in your hips as you walk towards the bathroom for a quick change. He brings his attention back to the papers in front of him. There are a few dialogue sheets and many new paths for the players to go down.

The costume is a little trim around your chest as you made sure to get a size more oversized than you usually wore, just to be careful. This outfit is a witch or maybe a mage. The dark purple dress has a faux corset inside, but the cleavage gives something to the imagination, at least that is what you think. You walk out with excitement beaming through you.

Eddie doesn't hear you walk back into the room, "Tada." Eddie turns his head. You're beautiful. He hadn't realized just how much he liked when you looked natural. Your hair was down, and you had that dopey smile. But his eyes dragged down to your chest, the valley of your breasts pressed together. Eddie swallowed thickly. "What do you think?" You were hoping for a good comment, maybe a "You look great, babe." or a geek-out moment.

Instead, Eddie stared at you for a long moment, "Eddie?" You questioned. He shook his head. "Do you not like it? It is a bit tight. I mean, look at it." You say, starting to talk to yourself more than Eddie. He stops your mind sentence, "You look so pretty, baby. I wish I had thought about getting you into cosplay long ago."

Eddie's pants are already getting tight just at the thought of you as some bar wench with a tight corset around your chest that push your breasts up in such a way he would love to just lay his head down on them and fall asleep right there.

"I have another? Do you wanna?" Eddie rolled his eyes, shooing you away before saying, "Of course, now go change, princess." While you were in the bathroom changing out of the mage costume and into your next outfit, Eddie couldn't help but rub the palm of his hand down the edge of his boxers. His cock straining inside his boxers. The only thing that makes sure he doesn't get caught is the sound of the creaking floorboards.

"What about this one?" You ask him, Eddie is left speechless for the first time, and it makes you giggle. But then you don't know what's happening. He's getting up so fast that the chair nearly falls over. Standing tall over you, his eyes scan you, landing on the corset that pushes up your breasts and the bar wench. He doesn't care that you squeak out as he grabs you, placing you on the bed.

"Eddie?" You manage to get out, "Hmm." He hums against your skin, "Did you do that on purpose?" He asks as he looks into your eyes, shocks fill them, "On purpose? Why? I just went shop…" Your words get cut off by a rough kiss that has you breathless when Eddie moves away from your lips to your exposed skin.

"Eddie, will you tell me what's gotten into you?" You ask him, even if you love the feel of his lips on your skin. "I've always wanted to… god, Y/n, you look so good, baby, makes me so fuckin' hard." You whimper at Eddie's words.

"I've had so many dreams about fucking you like this, but I wanna take you first." Eddie mutters as he slips down to his knees, "Open these legs for me princ… bar wench. You dirty little slut. Do you do this for all your customers?" He asks in a different voice; you don't answer, so he flips up your costume biting your inner thigh, "NO! I don't only for you, I swear, sir." You scream; he hums against your skin and notices a growing wet patch on your panties.

"This turn you on you slut? You just want a strong man takin' control of your body?" Eddie ask. You don't get to answer him as he flattens his tongue against your panties. His lips sucking on your clit, and his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your inner thighs.

Eddie just sucks and sucks on your clit, until your legs are shaking and your toes are curled in your butterfly-printed socks. "Oh FUCK…" You scream out, grabbing anything you grab. Eddie's long locks or the bed sheets beneath your sweating body. "There you go." Eddie coaxes you through the rest of it. Peppering kisses to your hot skin.

A moment later, Eddie is back from between your legs, his head resting on your chest, your hand in his arms. "Maybe we should do that more often," Eddie comments. You giggle. "Maybe you should cosplay somethin' for me next time." He looks up at you with a severe look on his face.

"You promise?" He asks, you nod, and he nuzzles back into your breasts.

Completed on: 08/22/23

Posted on: 10/31/23

Kinktober 23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays

Stranger Things Master List // The Adults Master List // Kinktober '23

[doodlebloo]

Hi I wrote a quick fix-it ficlet to make me feel better. Enjoy <3

-

"And then, I turn to him and I say, 'Do you want to be friends?' Fade to black."

Tubbo and Ranboo share a glance.

"...That sucked."

"Yeah. That might have been your worst story so far."

Tubbo disagrees, really - He thinks Tommy's worst story tonight has been the one about Skeppy being named the server's new king - but this story has put an equal damper on their sleepover.

The blanket fort they've haphazardly arranged in the mansion's living room seems to agree. It leans pecariously to one side, threatening to collapse and bury them in linens and sheets.

Tubbo cradles his pillow close to his chest, legs crossed. To his right, Ranboo lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Tommy sits in front of them, lying on his stomach with his head in his fists, pouting.

"It did not suck," Tommy protests with a whine. "Tubbo, you- You got to use a nuke, man, I made you so badass."

"Yeah, but like, why? And why did we lose all our memories?"

"And why did you forgive Dream?" Ranboo chimes in. "He was- I mean, he was pretty awful to you."

"Yeah, but this- In this story, he's a good guy deep down. He's just- He was really lonely, and so he-"

"Bullshit," Tubbo interrupts. "Dream is a fucking maniac, and you know that, Tommy."

Tommy looks away, chewing his lip.

Tubbo's brow furrows. "Tommy."

"No, no, I- I know. Dream was... Dream was bad."

"Mhm," Ranboo agrees encouragingly.

Tommy swallows roughly. "And... And he wasn't my friend. He was not my friend."

Tommy sounds like he's convincing himself more with each repetition, but Tubbo steps in regardless, leaning forwards to meet Tommy's eyes.

"He wasn't," Tubbo quietly insists. "And you don't have to forgive him if you don't want to. Ever."

Tommy opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it quickly. He takes a shakey breath, burying his face in the pillows beneath him.

Tubbo leans backwards on his hands to give Tommy space. "Besides, he's fucking dead now, dude. Nobody to even forgive."

"Mm. I'm glad that guy's dead," Ranboo murmurs.

Tubbo smiles, flopping down on his back to lie next to them. "Yeah?"

"Yep."

"Well, I'm glad this guy's alive," Tubbo pokes at Ranboo's side teasingly.

Ranboo giggles, turning to look at him. "Aw, you don't mean that, come on now."

Tubbo grins. "I do, actually. Nice to hear you breathing and shit."

Tommy groans, so loudly and abruptly that it makes Ranboo jump.

"Stop fuckin' flirting right in front of- I'm having a moment of reflection! I'm- I'm coming to terms with all of my fuckin'- And you two are just, 'Mimimimi, ohh, we're married!'"

"Do we really sound like that?" Ranboo quirks a brow.

"Yes," Tommy and Tubbo respond in unison.

Ranboo sighs. "Well, do you have any idea when you're gonna be done reflecting? I either want to keep flirting or go to sleep."

"Sleep," Tubbo agrees, climbing underneath their designated sleeping blankets. "Fuck flirting. Not worth it."

Ranboo lets out a sad trill, speaking with an audible pout. "No flirting?"

"No, now go to sleep," Tubbo murmurs. "You too, Tommy."

"I wasn't done telling stories, though."

"Then I'll tell a new one. 'Once upon a time, Dream was dead, and me and Tommy and Ranboo all went to sleep. The next morning Michael came and woke us all up and our fort fell down. But we rebuilt it later. The end.'"

"Hooray," Ranboo cheers half-heartedly.

Tommy scoffs, though he moves to climb into their pile of pillows and blankets anyway. "That story was shit."

"You're shit."

"Shut up, man."

"I hate it when you guys fight like this," Ranboo sarcastically murmurs, already half asleep. "Tearing this family apart."

Tubbo yawns. "Yeah, Tommy, stop fighting. Think of the families."

"Fuck you." Tommy throws an arm around Tubbo's waist, thrashing until he's comfortable.

Tubbo smiles. After a few moments of struggling he's able to locate Ranboo's hand under the mountain of blankets on top of them, and he tangles their fingers together. Ranboo reaches to turn off the singular redstone lamp they'd had lighting the fort.

"Love you too, prick," Tubbo slurs. "And you too, honeysuckle."

"Eugh. Now you two are really just doing it to piss me off."

Ranboo snuggles back into bed, tossing and arm across Tubbo's shoulders.

"You should piss him off more often," he whispers into Tubbo's hair.

Tubbo chuckles quietly.

"Don't worry, I plan to. I've got time."

He means to say something else, to keep antagonizing Tommy or snarking to Ranboo or both, but Tubbo quickly drifts off before he's able to form any more coherent thoughts, fading slowly away into overwhelming warmth.

[ghostaholics]

I had a dream about your enemies with benefits ghost x reader where the reader had a cryptic pregnancy. She kinda just doubled over in pain randomly and BOOM. Baby.

HE'S A LETHAL PERFECTIONIST TO THE CORE: rigid expectations impressed upon everyone; it's what makes him a first-rate soldier – grit factor and an appetite for excellence in everything he does.

(The thing is, Ghost doesn't make mistakes.

Of course, there's a first time for everything.)

It's chaos walking in Bangladesh, guerrilla warfare against an AQ cell weaseled away in Dhaka because the shiteheads have business with the organized crime bosses here. It's a city jam-packed with civilians, innocent lives. No open-fire allowed. A place like this means guerrilla warfare. Hit-and-run tactics. God knows he's not trying to start an international incident by blowing up half the bloody capital.

Cloak-and-dagger: they're picked off one-by-one. It takes a full day. A mess to be cleaned up, and he does it exceptionally well.

Ghost doesn't get any reports outside of the mission until he relays his total kill count.

"Good work," Laswell radios in. "We need you on the first flight to Oslo."

He lets out a slow exhale while jumping into the driver's seat of the vehicle he commandeered a couple blocks over. Time to make his way to the airport, then. They need his back-up. He knows what that means. But he's not going to think about the fact that the rest of the One-Four-One are there for a completely different ops and whether things have gone south if they're calling him in. He was supposed to be their fallback plan. "Everything solid?"

"It's Mav."

His grip around the steering wheel tightens. If he starts speeding through the streets, then he doesn't notice, too tuned in to the conversation at hand. "Fill me in."

"Landed herself in the hospital."

Again? Christ. It's the second visit in six months. He was there for the first one. Damn near had to stop the bloody doctors from calling out her time of death. Fuckin' tossers.

"What's the damage?"

"Well—"

"Alive?"

"Yes," she says quickly.

"Then quit beating around the bush. The hell's wrong with her?"

"All in one piece. Just get here when you can."

Right, so no helpful answers from the Station Chief. And Ghost tries to contact the others, but gets the same fucking silence. Not Price, not Gaz, not even Soap who always answers just to take every opportunity over the comms to blather about anything and everything in real time. He's not sure why he's being kept in the dark like this, but it's definitely putting him on edge.

The only other message he receives from Laswell: Oslo University Hospital. He'd combed the website for information in between stoplights. It'll do, he supposes. Their services don't seem subpar, which at any rate sounds far better than fucking Moscow; he still gets sick thinking about it.

So he checks in, gets his visitor badge. It's a whole ordeal that takes a lot longer than he likes. They tell him what floor, what room. That's the Gyneacology and Obstetrics Wing. He triple-checks, making sure nothing gets lots in translation; doesn't sound right to him, but he'll tear up the place later if they gave him the wrong directions. He memorized the hospital layout already; it'll take him approximately three minutes utilizing the right staircase, or seven minutes if he wants to take his sweet-fucking-time with the elevators.

"Our gift shop is around the corner," they tell him in a thick Norwegian accent before he makes his exit.

Odd.

She doesn't like flowers or cards or sentimental things anyways. Calls them impractical. Would rather hoard his jackets or other belongings of his that she finds useful, so the gift shop would be a waste.

When Ghost finally gets to where he needs to be, 2 minutes and 45 seconds later (skipped every other step just to shave off time), he finds everyone sans Mav waiting outside the room. It's not a happy reunion, despite Soap's grin. Everyone's intact, nobody's dead or anything that would excuse their silence during his trip from Bangladesh. Ghost is extremely unimpressed with their lack of communication and promises that he'll deal with their sorry arses later before shoving his way through the door.

—only to be met with the sight of her sitting up in bed, a tiny newborn bundled in her arms.

... whose fucking baby is that?

And when his eyes snap up to hers, she's glaring at him with a positively seething look that could kill.

[atlasscrumpit]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x John 'Soap' Mactavish

Red Blood White Sheets

Summary: Ghost thought he was immune to interrogation, he finds out what he can really lose in this fight

He wouldn't crack, Ghost never cracked.

No matter the torture, no matter the pain he went through, he would never crack.

That's what he thought, he thought he had trained himself well enough.

But, now with Soap here in front of him gasping for breath, he was willing to give everything up just to make sure Soap wasn't in pain any longer.

He was willing to let his entire team and himself die if it meant Soap would live.

"Enough!" He shouted to the kidnappers he they stopped carving piece of skin out of Soap's back.

"Lt, don't you fuckin dare!" Soap yelled before he was kicked in the head, making him fall over.

"I'll fuckin tell you everything." Ghost muttered as he looked down at Soap.

He didn't take his eyes off Soap while he listed off everything they wanted to know.

"I gave it to you, now let him go." Ghost growled as he heard the man laugh.

He heard the cock of a gun and tried to rush forward, but it was too late.

Soap's blood sprayed against Ghost's face as his soul died inside of his body.

--

Simon woke up in a cold sweat as he felt tears run down his face.

He panted heavily while gripping at his damp sheets.

"Johnny." He muttered as he quickly threw the sheets off his body and jumped up.

He threw his mask on and his hoodie over it before he stormed out into the cold night.

He didn't even know if he was thinking, or maybe he was just on autodrive.

He found his way to Soap's bunk and hesitated before he knocked on the door.

He gave three loud raps to the door.

"Open up, MacTavish." Ghost grumbled as he waited for the door to open.

When it did he couldn't help but just stare at Soap, he looked tired and messy, but he was alive.

"What the hell, Lt? It's fuckin 3am." Soap grumbled, he looked up and noticed that Ghost's eyes were different.

Instead of cold eyes burning into his soul he saw vulnerability and fear.

"Simon? Are you okay?" Johnny ask as Simon's eyes moved between Soap's.

Ghost finally looked away and stared down at the ground.

"Just got cold that's all and I know sometimes you get lonely." Ghost muttered as a small half grin crept onto Soap's face.

"You're completely right, Si. You know me so well." He said in amusement before he moved away from the door, open for Ghost to walk in.

Simon slowly walked in and stood in the middle of the room.

This wasn't the first time Simon had walked into Soap's room.

He learnt it was best to just let Simon in and lay down, Si could decide whatever he wanted.

Soap crawled back into the warmth of his bed and watched Simon.

Ghost groaned and ripped his mask and hoodie off before he climbed beside Soap.

"What was the dream about?" Soap asked as he wrapped his arms around Ghost's body and closed his eyes.

He knew Simon wasn't great at affection.

"I cracked under interrogation." Ghost grumbled as his arms slowly coiled around Johnny's body.

"Doesn't sound so bad, Lt." Soap said as he felt Simon do something he'd never done before.

He felt Simon's hand slowly go up and down his back in a soft soothing way.

Ghost's voice dropped down, sounding even more vulnerable.

"I saw you being tortured and then they shot you." Ghost admitted as Soap nodded a little.

"In that moment I was willing to give everything up just to stop them from hurting you. Seeing you bloodied and..." Ghost muttered as Soap looked up at him.

"It was a dream, Lt. You feel me now don't you? Feel the warmth of my body and feel my heartbeat." Soap reassured him as Ghost looked down into Johnny's eyes.

Simon leant forward and pressed his forehead against Johnny's.

"Right here with you, Lt."

[blitzsicedcoffee]

Ficlet: Daring to Dream

Timeline: Night after Apology Tour. When he's at home after the party.

-----------

Blitz lays on his couch staring up at the ceiling, the plastic glow in the dark stars he put up there are still there from when he and Loona had a celestial themed movie night when he first adopted her.

He smiles to himself remembering how nervous they both were. Two people that hadn't been loved in a long time, making a connection. Blitz becoming someone she could rely on.

He frowns as the stars start to remind him of Stolas. Reaching his hand up like he could grab one, but would it just burn through him?

That's what he's told himself the whole time they've been together. That this...thing with Stolas would burn him. Like everything always did. Like he always did to other people.

"I'm just a dream to him", he says out loud in a whisper to himself, pulling his arm back to his chest. Clenching his hand around his mother's collar.

What if I dared to dream? He thinks. What would he dream for? Love...acceptance...comfort?

All things he feels when he's with Stolas. Fuck can he get a break from thinking about him for one minute? This is his dream. His.

You know what I wanna do?

What?

I wanna have my own circus. With clowns and horses. And a big office!

An office? For a circus?

Yeah! Circus business with clowns and horses! And they'll all have good names like stapler. And buscuit queen!

Haha that sounds like a good business.

And if you apply, I'll hire you!.....maybe

You'll hire me?

Yeah if I feel like it!

But his dream will now always involve Stolas. FUCK. He holds his head, get out of my head you pompous, rich, fucker! You sweet, caring, laughs at my fucking jokes, wants to hear about my day, buys me horse shit...GAH!

He pushes his eye sockets as they fill with tears, trying to will them to stop producing but it's no use. The flood is here.

"Momma what would you say?" He says out loud again. Probably that he should go apologize. For real. Once Stolas wakes up and isn't drunk off his bird ass.

"But it's so scary momma, I can't do it..." He tells her again. It's like he can feel her touch on his cheek, wiping his tears.

Hun you're being silly. He cares for you that's clear, she'd say.

"MOMMA I DONT DESERVE HIM! Or anyone", he cries into the pillow. His mom's phantom hands caressing down his horns. Then she's gone. And he's only left with himself. As he's been for the last 15 years.

If he dared to fucking dream a new dream. One with Stolas. What would that even look like?

Would they go out for iced coffee, would they have more adventures on earth? Would they watch favorite movies on the couch as he falls asleep against his soft chest? Would they talk endlessly about their interests while holding each other close?

Or would they just...fuck?

He doesn't know what could happen. It's all a mystery. And that is fucking terrifying.

He jumps as his phone makes bird cooing sounds, and he quickly swipes it open.

Stols: Can we please talk tomorrow?

Fuck it's still night. He's still drunk. Maybe the text was a mistake?

Fucking take what you can get bitch.

He swallows the pit in his throat and hovers his claw over an automatic reply and closes his eyes, pressing it.

Blitz: Of course.

Fuckin hell why did he feel like he was gonna stop breathing? Now all he has to do is wait. Yeah he isn't getting sleep tonight. Again.

[lexithwrites]

james x regulus - club confession that no one asked for

Not being able to touch him was torture. It had been for years, but some reason at this very moment, in that club, it was worse than ever. James wasn’t sure if it was because Regulus was sitting directly across from him so he could look into his eyes whenever he glanced around, or the eyeshadow he had on that made him look even more beautiful, or the insanely tight jeans he knew Dorcas had forced him into. Whatever the reason, it was killing James. He could barely stand to look at him because he was worried everyone else would see the lust pouring off of him. James typically tried to hide his infatuation for Regulus, mostly for Sirius’ sake. He didn’t think his best friend would kill him exactly, but he doubted he’d be overjoyed. It was his little brother, after all. He had every right to be protective over him, even with James.

“Want another?” Evan nudged James’s arm and he glanced up. “Day dreaming?” He grinned.

“Fuck, sorry. Yeah, sure. Thanks mate.” He smiled up at Evan as he collected a few glasses and stepped out of the booth. Barty quickly followed, as he always did, and everyone thanked them for the round they were sure to bring back. “Hey, you wanna dance?” James leaned over to the girls who had snuggled up in the middle of the booth together. 

“Yeah!” Pandora beamed and took James’ hand, tugging him out. “Come on.” She nodded at the other girls eagerly and it wasn’t like they were going to pass up the opportunity to dance. “Everything okay?” Panda tilted her head up at James and he shrugged. “You looked a little far away.”

“Just been thinking, that’s all.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Lily teased and he pulled a face at her. “Is everything alright, though? You’re not usually this quiet.”

“I just…I wanna tell him.” James sighed and the girls stopped just short of the dancefloor. “Is that bad?”

“No!” Mary quickly jumped in as Marlene and Dorcas joined them in their little circle. “I think it’s very brave, Jam. Just…how are you gonna do it?”

James snorted. “No fuckin’ clue. Should I even be telling Reg? I should be going to Sirius first, right?”

“What, like getting his blessing?” Marlene smirked and James rolled his eyes. “It’s what it sounds like.”

“I think it might be a good thing to talk to Sirius but…” Dorcas rubbed James’ arm. “Don’t treat it like you’re asking for his permission. Regulus will hate that.” She had a point. James didn’t want to be doing anything behind Regulus’s back, after all. “Talk to him first, because at the end of the day it’s between you two. No one else.”

James sighed, briefly looking over his shoulder at their table and seeing Regulus looking right back at him. He swallowed. Dorcas seemed to notice and she squeezed his arm, a sign of comfort. “Do you want to ask him to dance instead, hon?”

“I don’t think I’m that brave, Cass.” 

“Sure you are.” She shrugged, then turned to the girls. “We’re gonna go to the other side of the dancefloor and you, sir, are gonna go talk to him. Or dance with him—”

“—or makeout with him.” Marlene interjected and her girlfriend playfully tugged on her shirt. 

“Just go, James.” Dorcas laughed and she kissed his cheek for good luck, the girls all heading away from him. James smiled at them all and turned back around. He could feel the bass reverberate through his whole body as everything seemed to move in slow motion around him. Just ask him, what’s the worst that can happen? 

Regulus put his drink down when James came back and he cocked his head to the side. “Already fed up with dancing?” He asked. 

James licked his lips. “Actually, Reg—”

“Drinks, drinks, drinks!” Barty chanted, slamming a glass down in front of each of the boys with a wicked grin. “I’m gonna go shag Evan in the toilets so no one come in, alright?”

“Barty, that’s disgusting. You’re in public.” Regulus scoffed. 

His best friend shrugged. “Fine, maybe just a handjob. Ev probably wouldn’t wanna get his knees dirty anyway.” He winked and clapped James on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you two alone, then.” When Evan wasn’t carrying a tray of drinks, Barty tugged him away, and James cleared his throat. 

“Is he always like that?”

“Unfortunately.” Regulus smiled a little fondly and James’ chest ached. “Since we’re on the subject of shagging, have you seen Remus and my brother? They wandered off after you and the girls did.” James looked around and shook his head. “Great. Everyone’s just…having a great time.” Regulus sat back and took a long swig of his drink and James took a selfish moment just to watch the way his adams apple bobbed when he swallowed.

He wanted to lick it. Christ, Potter. 

“Everything alright?” He slid in beside Regulus and picked up a glass that he assumed was his—rum and coke, double—and took a sip. Yep, definitely a double. 

“I’m fine. Go dance.” 

“No, I—I don’t wanna dance right now.”

Regulus raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “You seemed pretty eager a minute ago.” James sighed and rubbed his face. “You don’t have to sit here with me because you feel sorry for me—”

“I don’t.” James said quickly and Regulus finally looked at him. “I want to sit with you. So, can you please tell me what’s wrong? I wanna help.” He always wanted to help. 

Regulus didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked deep into James’ eyes. So much so that James started to feel a little shy. No one looked at him like that, just Regulus. 

“I’m mad because everyone has someone.” He finally said and James frowned. 

“What do you mean?”

“Remus has Sirius. Evan has Barty. Dorcas has Marlene. Don’t even get me started on whatever Mary, Lily and Panda are because I have no clue. I don’t ask questions.” James had actually been rather curious about that himself. He had noticed the little touches and smiles and looks the three of them were giving each other. Did that mean anything? “It’s just very suffocating sometimes. To be surrounded by couples when you’re not in one yourself.”

James smiled. “Well, it’s not like I’m in one. Just as single as you.” 

“Oh, thanks.”

Shit. “I didn’t mean—”

“Why are you single, James?” Regulus blurted out, making him go still. “You could have anyone in this club and you know it. So why don’t you ever hook up with anyone when we go out?” 

James' mouth suddenly felt very dry and he grabbed his drink. “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Why am I on trial for not seeing someone?”

Regulus sighed. “You’re not, I just don’t understand why you’re wasting your time.” He looked down and James tried to follow his gaze. He looked sad. 

“I didn’t realize I was.” James replied. For a while, Regulus didn’t say anything, and the two sat there in silence with the music thumping around them. James wondered if he’d said the wrong thing, or if he should have even come over at all. It seemed like he was just constantly bothering Regulus every time they were alone and he hated it. He didn’t want to be thought of as a bother, especially not by Regulus. 

Eventually, when Regulus did look up, his face was something unreadable. “You think I don’t see the way you look at me, Jamie?” 

James had never felt his heart skip a beat before, not once in his whole life, but he felt it then. Jamie. No one had ever called him that before. It sounded good coming from Regulus, rolling off of his tongue. It sounded sweet…sexy. James cleared his throat.

“Look at you?”

Regulus scoffed. “Don’t act dumb. You’re not dumb. I see, James. I see everything. And I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me and you’re just…why are you wasting your time?” 

Oh, that stung. 

James rubbed his thighs and let out a sad, defeated laugh. “I think I should go. I’ll stop wasting your time.” As he began to get up, he felt a hand suddenly grip his bicep and James looked down to see Regulus with a completely different expression this time. He looked desperate, almost regretful. “Reg—”

“I meant—fuck, I meant you could be with so many other people, why—” Regulus must have realised how hard he was holding onto James’ shirt and he pulled his hand back. Then it hit him. 

“You think me liking you is wasting my time…because what, you don’t think you’re good enough?” James asked incredulously. “Regulus,” he sunk back into the booth and turned serious, “I’ve liked you for years, I mean Christ, I’ve never even thought about anyone else. It’s actually embarrassing. And all the others, they—”

“Everyone else knows?” Regulus interrupted and James bit his lip.

“Uh…maybe?” Regulus paused and then he started giggling. Fucking giggling. James could have kissed him. “Don’t laugh!”

“I’m not, not at you, it’s just…I thought everyone knew I liked you.” James’ eyes went wide and he blinked in disbelief. 

“You like me back?” 

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me say it again. Obviously I do, James. Obviously I do.”

“It wasn’t obvious to me.”

“Then you’re very unobservant aren’t you?” Regulus raised an eyebrow and James wondered if he meant that as challengingly as it came across. “You really haven’t seen how I act around you?”

“And how is that?” James moved a little closer to him across the seat. Regulus noticed that; he swallowed. “What, no comebacks? No insults?”

“I’m not going to insult you.” 

“You usually do. You love it.”

Regulus smiled. “If it’s deserved. You are an idiot for not knowing, though.”

“There he is.” James smiled back at him and the two just looked at each other. They were quite content doing it; no words needed to be exchanged. And then James could have sworn he saw Regulus’ eyes flicker down. “Regulus—”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” Was his choked out response and James wanted to touch him so bad it hurt. “I…wanted to stop. You’re Sirius’ best friend and I didn’t want to make everything weird but I can’t…James, I can’t stop.”

“Hey,” James cupped Regulus’ cheek and the other boy’s lashes fluttered. Jesus. “I can’t either. I haven’t for so long and I don’t want things to be weird either, but, if we both like each other…it doesn’t have to be weird. It can just be us.” 

Regulus slowly nodded. “You look really good tonight.” He touched the shirt James had on—some silk maroon thing that Remus had lying around, he’d give it back eventually—and his smile grew. “It’s like you’re trying to torture me.”

“It’s how I’ve felt all night, too.” James laughed and he put his forehead to Regulus’s. For another moment, neither spoke, but then James felt a hand on his thigh and his breath hitched. “Reggie—”

“I’m not good with being in public like this.” He said softly and his breath made James shiver the moment it hit his cheek. “I wish…we were somewhere else right now.”

“We could be.” James said without thinking and something shifted between them. It was different, and they both knew it. James swallowed as Regulus looked into his eyes with that piercing gaze that melted him inside and out, and he nudged their noses together. “If…only if you want.”

“I want.” Regulus breathed. “Jamie—”

“God, the way you say that—” James nearly whimpered; it was almost pathetic if it didn’t get the reaction it did out of Regulus. The other boy stared at him and then he finally, finally, closed the distance between them. 

Regulus kissed like he was desperate, struggling for air and James was oxygen. He kissed hungrily, greedily, and seemed to forget that they were in public. James loved it. He felt addicted the second their lips touched and he grabbed Regulus by the back of the head and by his waist so he could tug him closer, closer, closer. If that was even possible. He’d have him in his lap if he wasn’t sure Regulus would stop him. Maybe he could if they were alone. He moaned into Regulus’ mouth at that and tilted his head so he could trace over Regulus’ lower lip with his tongue. He wanted to taste every inch of him and savor it, devour it. He wanted Regulus all to himself, now. No one else in this club was going to touch him, or James would break their hands. 

Eventually, Regulus pulled back so he could breath and he squeezed his eyes shut to try and gain some ounce of control. When he looked at James again, he looked hungry, and James rubbed his hip. 

“Come home with me.” James whispered, lips brushing against Regulus’ cheek. “I can talk to Sirius, he can just deal with it.”

Regulus let out a breathy laugh. “Is that so? You suddenly took charge.”

“Right now, I don’t care about anything but you.” James admitted. “I just…fuck, Reg, I’m dying here.”

“Why?” Regulus bravely touched James' inner thigh and he watched James shudder. “Oh, love. You really are desperate, aren’t you?”

“You’re evil.”

“Not to you.” Regulus shook his head. “I’ll be so good to you, James. Just like you’ll be to me, won’t you?” James nodded his head. He’d crawl across this club floor if Regulus asked him to right now. He was under his control, his command, and god did he love it.

“Can we please go home?” James whined and Regulus grinned, looking wicked. He’d won. 

“Who's going to tell my brother? Or the others? They’ll get worried.”

James snorted. “I think they’ll know exactly what we’re doing.” But Regulus still took out his phone and texted someone, presumably Pandora, before grabbing his drink and downing it in two gulps. “We’re really going?”

“You’re not getting out that easily.” Regulus smirked and he stood up. James hated how far away he felt and he stumbled to his feet after him. “You’re like a puppy.” Regulus teased him, sliding a hand down to intertwine with James’.

“I can bark for you, if you like.”

“Please don’t. I’m not into that kind of roleplay.”

James’ eyebrows shot up. “What roleplay are you into?”

“Just shut up and take me home.”

[demons-and-demigods]

Demons and Demigods Part Eleven: Written Scene #6.5: Sparta

Look, I'm not sure if I should classify this as a written scene or not, so I'm just gonna call it both lore and a scene, but there is a fair bit of proper writing in here, it's just split up between a bunch of hand-wavey bits lmao

Pylos and getting the poison from Frank’s ‘cousins’ goes the same, they get back to the Argo II, chat about Piper’s visions and wtf the deal is with the chained god’s heartbeat in Sparta, Percy makes his comment about ‘send Leo, he’s immune to fire. Shit, I’ll go with some fuckin’ water balloons, Ares and I have tangled before, I’m more than happy to pummel him again,’ Annabeth reigns him in since Piper’s vision showed the two of them, they table the discussion for the moment and decide to just get going. The sea serpent is eyeing them, they decide to fly instead of sail. Off they go to Sparta!

They arrived in Sparta. Piper shared her dream about the giant waiting for them and shit, and Percy crossed his arms. His face darkened, lips twisting into a snarl, and all the pipes in the ship burst. Piper jumped. Somewhere else in the ship, she heard Leo yelp. 

“Carajo mierda! ¿Qué carajo, Percy!” Leo cursed loudly in Spanish as water and various other liquids started to leak through the walls. 

Percy didn’t react. 

“That’s it,” he said darkly, his voice lower than Piper had ever heard it. It rumbled from deep in his chest and she swore she could feel it in her bones. “I’m coming with you.”

Piper tried not to let on just how terrified she was. Percy had always been scary, even without trying to be. But ever since he and Annabeth had returned from Tartarus, it was like Percy was barely able to reign himself in anymore and Annabeth had taken to just watching him with a knowing glint in her eye whereas before she would have stopped him before he went too far. Percy’s mere presence set Piper on edge, her fight-or-flight instinct rearing its head the moment he entered a room. 

Piper knew that he would never hurt her or any of their friends on purpose, but after what Leo had told her about what happened with Nike, well. She just hoped they didn’t ever get caught in the crossfire. 

Right then, Piper was barely resisting the urge to flee as Percy glared at her and Annabeth, daring them to tell him no. Piper tried not to let her legs shake. Annabeth just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms right back. 

“Absolutely not, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth said sternly and raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend. “Piper and I are more than capable of taking care of ourselves, and as much as I don’t want to leave your side either, Percy, we have to remember what the Giants said. They need the blood of a man and a woman to wake Gaea. If there really is a Giant waiting for us down there, we can’t send one of each; we’d just be giving them exactly what they want.” 

Percy growled low in his throat and Piper jumped when thunder cracked though the sky. 

“I don’t like this any more than you do, Percy, but the thunderstorm and exploding pipes are unnecessary. Honestly, if you don’t stop blowing up the plumbing, I think Leo might strangle you.” Annabeth said with a light laugh as she stepped forward to place her palms flat against his chest. 

Piper watched with wide eyes as Annabeth met Percy furious gaze with an indulgent smile, completely at ease even as the ship rocked from the force of the winds summoned alongside Percy’s storm by his anger. 

Annabeth bounced up on her tiptoes to give Percy a quick kiss. Percy let out a resigned sigh as his face melted into a soft grin. He slumped at the fight visibly drained from him and shook his head. 

“One of these days I’ll remember how futile it is to try and argue with you,” he said with a chuckle, and every trace of his frightening display of anger and power washed away by a kiss from his girlfriend. He sighed again. “I really, really don’t like this,” he said pointedly, “But I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself and I have no right to stop you.” He leaned down and kissed Annabeth languidly, one hand coming up to cup her jaw and the other tangling in her hair. “I guess I should go apologize to Leo and help clean up the mess I made,” he said when they finally parted for air. “Promise me you’ll be safe, Wise Girl.” 

Annabeth smiled. “Of course I will, Seaweed Brain. You’re still not getting rid of me that easily.” She gave him one more quick kiss before waving him off as they both laughed. She watched her boyfriend disappear around the corner with a tender look on her face. 

Then, she sighed and turned to Piper, her face settling into a determined mask. “Come on,” she said. “We’d better get going before he decides he’s coming anyway, my reasoning be damned.” 

Annabeth and Piper head off to do their thing. Very little changes here. Their conversation on the hill goes a little differently since Annabeth isn’t afraid of Percy and the Akhlys thing (actually she thought it was pretty hot, Percy offering to kill a goddess for her). Annabeth had told Piper some of the stuff that happened Down There, but the ‘ranked list of scary things that happened’ is more Piper’s thing than Annabeth’s. Annabeth was scared, of course, never of Percy, though, but rather of y’know, the possibility of dying and not making it back to their friends and losing Percy and stuff like that. When she talked about scary things Percy had done, it wasn’t with fear, it was always with admiration and love and a lot of ‘gods, I love him’s thrown in. Piper was the one to label his actions scary. Annabeth mooned over them. 

So when Piper is like “You’re thinking about Percy,” and they have their little feelings talk, Annabeth doesn’t talk about how he scared her standing there at the edge of Chaos threatening a goddess, but instead she talks about how incredible it was to watch him reduce a goddess to begging for mercy, how much she loved him for being willing to do whatever it took for them to make it out of there, how thrilling the knowledge was that he’d have killed Akhlys if she’d asked him to, how exhilarating it felt to have that kind of power and control over a situation. 

Piper is trying very hard not to freak out. Because seriously. What the fuck, Annabeth. But she manages to keep her cool (at least outwardly) and then there’s the surge of fear and the topic shifts and Annabeth mentions how terrifying it was to be blinded and separated from Percy by the arai, the bone-deep fear she’d felt when Bob healed her and she saw Percy on the ground, covered in blood and barely hanging on as he struggled to breathe, learning that he was dying of gorgon’s blood and there was nothing Bob could do to help him. Piper comforts her and then they notice the flame geysers. 

They go to check those out, Annabeth is frustrated she can’t find a pattern, Piper figures out they’re not logical, they’re emotional, and she jumps down the hole. Annabeth follows a moment later after she anchored a rope and Piper cut off the dragon head spouting the flames. They realize it’s a temple of fear, not just of Ares, and it’s fucking with their emotions. The Giant appears to taunt them, and they take off running. 

Annabeth is spiraling, she is definitely having a Very Not Good Time. Piper is doing her best to snap Annabeth out of it, but Mimas is Not helping and it's just a rough time all around. Mimas keeps taunting them, Piper keeps quipping right back. She talks about her godly brothers, Deimos and Phobos, and then Mimas makes his mistake. 

He insults Damasen. 

Annabeth attacks him in a fury and does some serious damage in her rage. 

Things go south for them again. Piper coaches Annabeth to stop trying to plan and just feel things, listen to her gut. Annabeth admits that she doesn’t think she can do that. 

Piper tells her to focus on getting revenge for Bob and Damasen. 

Annabeth is quiet for a moment, and then she says, “I’m good now,” and commits terrible acts of violence against Mimas <3 

Piper makes her sacrifice to the makhai, only since she doesn’t have the cornucopia, she instead slices her forearm and lets her blood drip onto the statue. Then she frees the makhai, they make their deal with her, and Mimas dies. 

Piper and Annabeth haul ass back to the Argo II and then they continue on their way. 

A few days later, after heading back out to sea and deciding to sail instead of fly while Jason was down for the count, they got caught in a massive storm. 

[issybettyx]

Hero Tommy, Villains SBI AU

Tldr; i was on tiktok earlier and heard a sound and suddenly this au was born (i’m skipping revision for my exams that start tomorrow to write this) (dream is also in this au purely because i needed a manipulative character, and c!dream is basically just that)

—

“Here to lose again, Theseus?” Siren taunts, jumping over the flash of light the hero shot in his direction. Theseus laughs, grinning as he continues to fire, letting his eyes glow red as he does so. “You’ll never defeat us no matter how hard you try.”

“You’re all bitches,” Tommy spits, and he grins wider when Siren barks out an unamused laugh, letting his energy guide him as Siren phases through the floor, appearing behind him a moment later. “What’s the point of The SBI anyways?”

Curiosity was evil, and Tommy was starving from a lack of information. His whole life, all he’d ever wanted was answers. Maybe asking Siren the point of his existence wouldn’t tell him who his parents were or why he was forced into the Hero Guild at the meek age of 7, but knowledge helped him in the field.

“The Guild knows our reasons, why don’t you?” Siren laughed back, attempting to send a phantom punch through Theseus’ skull, the kid dodging just in time. Dream had told him it was good he was young, it made him quick and flexible, made it easier to dodge and harder to catch. Despite his clear confusion, and yet apathy towards the entire situation, Siren continues. “We had something taken from us, and the Hero Guild have been hiding it for years despite how much they insist they don’t have it.”

“We’re civil, we wouldn’t steal, we’re not fuckin’ robbers or anything.” Tommy spits back, somehow managing to land a kick on Siren’s chest, sending a bright red stream of energy onto the exact place he’d managed to hit and watching as the man fell to the ground, clutching at his chest with a hiss. “We just stop the annoying shits who wreak havoc on our country.”

“You tell your Dream buddy that we demand what’s ours back,” Siren tells him, and Theseus feels something cold press hard at his back, shivers taking over all of his limbs until he’s struggling to stand. He continued to stay stood, despite how much his body begs to fall.

Dream wouldn’t like it if he fell.

He couldn’t disappoint Dream.

“And what if they don’t?” He yells back, making sure his voice echoed on the cold walls of the alleyway they were currently in. It wasn’t the best place for a fight, but it was better than having cameras catch his every move. Whenever that happened, him and Dream would spend the entirety of the next day pointing out and correcting the flaws of his technique. “What if they can’t give it back?”

“I’m sure, if they’re lives are on the line, they will be more than willing to give it back.”

Siren disappeared through the floor before he could say anything else, leaving Theseus alone once more.

—

“Dream,” Tommy starts, taking a deep breath as the man hums, scrolling on his phone, “I want to find my family.”

The man pauses, fingers going still on his screen as he stares directly ahead, and Tommy already regrets saying anything.

“We’ve tried, Tommy, you know this.”

“You tried when I was seven.” Tommy insisted despite the fear thrumming through his veins, biting his lip when bright green eyes stare back at him, a dull frown sitting on his face. “We didn’t even do a DNA test, that could find them so quickly, I’m sure-“

“Go to training kiddo.” Dream told him, and he wanted to protest, wanted to yell and tell him he was actually stupid to think they’d done all they could; but it was Dream he was talking to, he couldn’t just go against him, so he obliged, picking up his suit and leaving the room.

Before he opened the door, he made sure to pick up his backpack, throwing his suit into it before leaving, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Tommy arrived at the centre soon enough. It was a place he’d found on a solo patrol one night, a centre where you could test your DNA and find your family history and things similar to it. Maybe he’d gone a few months ago and gave them a swab of his DNA. Maybe he was only looking for permission so he could show someone he’d found his family, but it seems he would have to keep this to himself as well.

“Tommy Innit?” The desk lady called, and he immediately stood up, taking the brown folder from her with a quiet thanks before immediately leaving, breaking open the flap that sealed it shut.

After taking a deep breath, a short session of rethinking his life choices and swallowing the lump in his throat, Tommy lifted the white papers out, looking over the front.

‘Tommy Innit.

DOB: April 9th 2004’

This was it.

He lifted the front paper out, slipping it behind the others before he looked over it.

‘Heritage: 75% L’Manberg, 20% Essempee’

He took out the next paper.

And the next.

Before finally, the words ‘Family Tree’ met his gaze, and he had never read something faster, the widest smile on his face.

—

Tommy knocked on the door - after a good few minutes of wanting to turn back from the nerves fluttering in his stomach - immediately taking a step away from it.

“Techno get the door!” A voice shouted from the inside, and Tommy knew he had the right place.

The form had said his closest family were as follows; Phil Craft, his father, aged 36. His mother, Kristin Craft, whose age wasn’t specified? It was strange but he brushed past it. And, apparently, he had two brothers, and they were twins.

Technoblade Craft and Wilbur Craft.

“I’m doing homework! Make Wil get it!”

“Wil’s not in- you know what.”

Footsteps followed, and Tommy took a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he tapped his fingers on his leg, trying to steady his breathing as scraping metal from a door lock filled his ears. The door was opened, and a blonde man stood on the other side, blue eyes blinking at Tommy who could only just manage to look back at him.

“Can I help you?” He asked slowly, squinting his eyes at Tommy who took another deep breath, muttering random things under his breath as Phil continued to stare. “Did the government send you? Oh god-“

“No- I- no, I- oh god how do I put this?” Tommy tried, despite having recited this conversation in his head thousands of times he still found himself lost for words. No one had told him meeting his father for the first time would be so… scary. Then again, no one really knew he was there. “I’m an orphan.”

This only seemed to confuse the other more.

“Right?”

“And I- I never knew who my family were, so I kinda snuck off to this centre in town?” Tommy tried, messing with his hands as he refused to look at the other. After a moment, he put his shaking hands into his bag and pulled out the page of his family tree, holding it out to the man who took it with slight hesitance.

Tommy didn’t watch him as his eyes went wide, mouth slightly open as he stared at it, disbelief taking over.

“Um, apparently your my dad? And I wanted to meet you my entire life, and I wasn’t sure-“

Arms wrapped around him, cutting his sentence off to look at Phil, the man’s arms holding him so tight Tommy wondered if he would ever let go. His head was pushed into Tommy’s shoulder, and he could feel his sleeve getting wet.

Was he crying?

“Oh Tommy.” Phil said shakily, and Tommy sighed, returning the hug as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I thought I’d never see you again- I- oh god, I’m so sorry.”

Some part of him said to forgive him. But he didn’t exactly know what had happened in the first place, so he only held him tighter, holding down his own cries as he heard Phil, feeling as he shook in his hold.

“Dad who is it?” A deep voice called, likely Techno because apparently Wilbur wasn’t there, as footsteps grew louder, Phil sniffing before moving back, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Only then did Tommy see the other man, pink hair tied back into a messy bun, a mug in his hand with glasses over his eyes. His clothes were a little questionable, a fancy frilled shirt tucked into black trousers. The man looked at Phil, a raised eyebrow with a silent question Tommy wasn’t sure of, but Phil nodded and a hand was thrown over his mouth before he placed the mug down. “Tommy?”

“I- yeah?” Tommy returned, and Techno was walking over before he could do anything, the man pulling his head onto his chest and keeping a steady on the back of his head, and Tommy leaned into it, letting out a breath as he tried to ignore the shivering of the other. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, kid.” Techno told him, letting go to crouch in front of him, holding his hand with a small smile. It didn’t look right on the man’s face, but Tommy returned it anyways, wiping whatever tears were forming in his eyes, “None of this was your fault.”

“I’ve messaged Wil, he’s on his way back.” Phil said, albeit a bit rushed, before turning to Tommy, a fond smile on his face. “You can eat dinner with us? If you’d like?”

Did he? Yes, he wanted to, a million times yes. But Dream would murder him if he was home late. Not to even mention the fact the man didn’t seem to keen on the idea of him finding his family, for whatever reason.

“I would love to.” Tommy replied nonetheless, letting them usher him into the house. It was a lovely space, in Tommy’s opinion. The wallpaper was a sage green, and wooden shelves lined one wall. A mirror was in the hallway, a cabinet beneath it with a vase on it, no flowers to make it prettier. They led him to the kitchen, and Techno flicked on the kettle again, offering Tommy a drink to which he declined.

“So, Tommy,” Phil started, and Tommy looked at him, taking in his warm smile and the way tension had left his shoulders since he’d arrived, “Tell us about yourself.”

Well he’d been a hero since he was seven, and that was basically his entire life.

“I like cows.” Is what he said, because it was true, he did, “And the colour red. It’s epic.”

“It is epic,” Techno replied to that, pouring Phil a mug of coffee and passing it to him, “Red is the coolest colour. Well, apart from pink.”

“Pink is a very based favourite colour.” Tommy returned, and Techno seemed to straightening up a little at that as that same smile returned from before.

“How’ve you been doing?” Phil asked, a little more cautious than the first time. “Have you been living with someone or?”

“Well,” Tommy started, wondering how in hells name to go about this. He had a feeling if he said he didn’t want to say, he would he allowed to keep it to himself. But this was his dad, asking about where he’d been basically his entire life, so maybe he could just… not name names. “My guardian found me when I was a baby, and he gave me a roof over my head for basically my entire life. He can be a bit…” what was the word? “Strange,” Good enough, “Sometimes, but he basically raised me, so I made do.”

“Who is he?” Techno asked, Phil hitting his arm lightly as he shrugged, “I think I deserve to know who my little brother has been staying with all this time.” There was a look in Phil’s eyes that was a kind of warning, and if Tommy didn’t know better he would say it said they knew something he didn’t.

“I have a question, actually.” Tommy said after a moment of quiet conversation between the other two, bringing the attention back to him. Attention was always something he’d hated, it was always the media shoving cameras into his masked face, following his movements and guessing his next move. He sunk a little under the watchful eyes, biting his lip as he brought his knees to his chest. “Where have you been?”

His real question was clear. Why was I orphaned? Did you choose to? Why did I have to be raised by a young hero and roped into a job so early that I’ve always hated?

“We-“ Phil started, but Techno cut him off.

“You were taken in your sleep.” Techno said bluntly, sipping on his coffee as if admitting Tommy had been kidnapped was the calmest topic of conversation. “We’ve been trying to track you down since, but they were very good at covering their tracks.”

“We knew the only way for you to get back was for you to do it on your own accord,” Phil admitted, picking at his nails as Tommy looked at the floor, frowning as he tried to process it all. “But we tried to get you back nonetheless, they were just… very good at hiding you.”

The door opened after Phil finished speaking, and Tommy turned as fast footsteps filled the house, and soon enough a brown haired man was stood in the doorway, circular glasses over his brown eyes. His style was a lot more simplistic than Techno’s; a simple white shirt with a yellow jumper over the top, black trousers leading down the black boots, and a brown trench coat was over his shoulders, clearly forgotten to be taken off in his rush.

His eyes were wide as he stared at him, eyes scanning him as if he was worried the boy would disappear and he had to remember every small detail. It was a strange thing, and yet Tommy wasn’t too against that kind of attention, waiting for someone to say something.

“Am I dreaming? This is a dream right?” Wilbur asked, taking a careful step closer as Tommy shook his head, watching the man look down at his hands, muttering numbers under his breath before sucking in a quick breath, staring at Tommy before bounding towards him, tugging him into a warm hug.

It wasn’t as tight as Phil’s, whose hug gave him a strange sense of security. It wasn’t as… whatever Techno’s was, that let him know he was there and everything was okay.

It was warm, and it felt safe, and he knew he could pull away if he tried. It was what finally made him cry, clinging back as he sobbed, hoping the man didn’t care if his jumper got too wet, feeling the man hold him tighter as he rested his chin on his head.

“You’re safe now, Tommy.” He whispered, sincerity soaking his words as Tommy only cried harder, knowing his brother would keep him safe. “We’re here, and we’re not going anywhere.”

“But I have to go.” Tommy cried back, shaking his head as Wilbur hushed him, stroking his hands through his hair. With all the emotion in him, Tommy couldn’t find it in him to lie to his family any longer. In Wilbur’s arms, he knew he never wanted to leave, so they needed the truth if they could even try to do anything to fix things. “Dream will be mad if I don’t go back to the tower, he- he’ll-“

“It’s alright, take a deep breath, take your time.” Wilbur muttered back, feeling the kid’s chest rise and fall as he cried.

“Dream has given me everything, and if I leave- he didn’t want me to leave.”

Tommy didn’t see as Phil gripped his coffee tighter, something dangerous flickering in his eyes as he listened to Tommy say the hero’s name. Tommy didn’t see Techno bite his lip, a million thoughts running through his head as he already began planning the man’s demise.

Wilbur only held him tighter.

“He gave me everything, he made me who I am, he- I need to leave.”

“You don’t need to leave, Toms, your safe here.” Wilbur assured, and Tommy shook his head again.

“Can I ask you a question Tommy?” Techno asked carefully, the blonde sniffing as he turned, Wilbur letting go for a moment so he could look at Techno, before slinging his arms over Tommy’s shoulders, resting his chin on Tommy’s head once more. “What did Dream do for you? Who did he make you?”

Could he say that?

Probably, it’s not like they would or could do anything if they knew he was a hero.

“Theseus.” He sniffed back, wiping his eyes as Wilbur froze. Tommy immediately regretted it, everything he’d said coming back to him as he struggled for words, seeing Techno’s wide eyes and Phil’s hand gripping tighter on his mug. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-“

“Dream made a child a hero?” Techno scowled, and Tommy immediately got defensive.

“I’m not a child.”

“You’re 14.”

“And? I’m not a kid, I can hold my own.” Tommy insisted, standing straighter and forcing Wilbur’s head up.

Phil’s frown physically hurt him, and he found himself looking at the floor to avoid his firey gaze.

“You shouldn’t have to, though.” Phil said quietly, and Tommy had to squeeze his eyes shut as he took a deep breath.

“And you don’t have to, not anymore.” Wilbur added, squeezing Tommy’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” Techno laughed back, but Tommy could hear the malice in it, “If Dream even gets within one mile of you he won’t see the light of day again.”

“That sounds quite evil of you Technoblade,” Tommy told him, finding himself smiling as the man grinned back, “It’s kind of awesome.”

“What can I say? I am awesome.”

Tommy laughed, leaning into Wilbur as the man held him closer, Techno sipping his coffee again as Phil typed something into his phone - Tommy had a feeling he wasn’t casually messaging a colleague, but he didn’t voice those thoughts.

He didn’t voice the thoughts because he was finally safe; he wasn’t sure how he knew it, but he knew he could relax even if it wouldn’t be for long.

With his family, in a home that felt right, without bright green eyes constantly staring holes into his head, he felt safe.

[smloshie]

Turning Page - a Simon Bootles x Reader

Part 2: 1763

Chapter 5: The Promise

Word count: 4,075

A/N: This is the chapter where the plot starts to kinda come in to place lol. Also there's spicy kissing in this chapter so I'm sorry in advance. ALSO also, don't forget you can find this fic on wattpad and Ao3 now!!!! Thank you all for reading, nobody tell Damien that I'm writing this I'd be super fuckin embarrassed.

╔═════════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════════════╗

“Your father agreed to give us the deed to the house.”

My heart froze, slowly infecting my bloodstream with ice. Did he really just say that?

“What?” was all I could muster.

“I spoke with your father. I explained how you and I were looking to settle here, and let him know of Alice’s wishes to live in a smaller house once the boys are off to university. He agreed to leave them with enough funds to find a suitable house, and give us this one.”

I don’t think I had ever been so shocked in my life. Not when I entered the woods. Not when Simon kissed me for the first time. Not even when I came face to face with a demon.

“I just can’t believe this…” I said, “I feel like I’m-”

“Dreaming?” He finished my sentence. I nodded with a smile.

“Well, if what you said is true, about marrying me if I had asked, then that might be the next step.” My heart jumped at the mere mention of it.

“Wait… you don’t mean right now, do you? I can only handle so much excitement in one day, Simon.”

“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it, darling! Of course, I’ve been dying to drop down to my knees in front of you and beg you to marry me until you’d say yes since the day we met…” He trailed off, “...but I’d rather have something special planned. You deserve better than that.”

“I agree.” I said, switching to a cocky demeanor.

“Now that just leaves one question to be asked.” He said. I looked at him quizzically.

“And what would that be?” I genuinely had no idea what else he could possibly ask me.

“Can I please kiss you?” He asked, emphasizing the ‘please’. Like I had been pulling him along by a rope towards me and yanking him away as soon as he got close. I stifled a laugh from the sheer ridiculous nature of the question.

“I thought you would never ask.” He sighed with a smile at my response and took a swift step towards me. In one smooth action that I can only call “meticulously planned out,” he wrapped an arm around my waist while simultaneously lifting my face up to him. He brought his lips to mine with power, not force. I could tell just from how he held me that he was waiting to get me alone since he arrived. And I, since the day he left.

I eagerly ran my hands over his shoulders and up to his head, where my fingers would find themselves laced through his hair. He brought his lips down to my neck. Feeling him so close to me and hearing his breathing as if it were coming out of my own lungs, it truly made me feel loved. To anyone lucky enough to witness such a beautiful display of affection, we must have looked like rabid wolves feeding on each other. Years of pent-up desire between the two of us had been devouring our already-fragile minds. The gasps shared between us was like music to my ears.

“(Y/N)...” He sighed, bringing his lips back up to mine, “I need you, so badly…” 

Forget music to my ears, that was a whole damn symphony.

“Simon… we can’t,” I said between whimpers, “I want to, but we aren’t-”

“Nobody knows that we aren’t married.” He reasoned against my lips, “Nobody would think us improper.”

I pulled away slightly, just enough for him to stop.

“I know,” I said whilst catching my breath, “but it doesn’t change the truth of the matter. I would prefer for us to wait until there’s cause for such a celebration…”

He let out a small chuckle of defeat.

“As you wish, darling. I will control myself until you say the word.”

“And I, you.” I said, reciprocating the same respect shown to me. A long silence befell us. I looked between him and the ground, not able to decide which deserved my gaze more. Finally, he spoke up.

“I believe that it would be wise to go back out and be with your family now.” He said. I nodded my head in agreement.

“Of course.” I agreed. He opened the door for me and allowed me to exit first. We walked down the hallway towards my father’s bedroom, his hand resting on my lower back. This delicate touch was enough to send shivers up my spine.

✦❘༻༺❘✦

Dinner that night was silent. It seemed nobody really knew what to say. What should we address first? The last breath my father gave out as we watched from the sides of the room, or the fact that I had been secretly married and pregnant? Surely my brother would at least bring up how Simon and I managed to get the deed to the house over him and Alice, but nothing. The man who always had something to say; always found a way to argue, said nothing.

All we could really do was sit there and eat our food. We could all hear the workers from the coroner’s office trotting up and down the stairs, fetching our father’s body and belongings. Every time she heard his bedroom door open, Alice sniffed back another tear. Garrison held her hand on the table to calm her, it seemed. Margot’s husband finally broke the silence.

“So, (Y/N),” he said, “how long have you known you were pregnant?”

Simon sputtered into the glass he held to his lips, sending water flying out of the corners of his mouth and all over himself. My two nephews tried to conceal their laughter from the edges of the table

“My apologies,” Simon coughed, “I must have caught something in my throat.”

Jeffrey narrowed his eyes in Simon’s direction, he likely noticed the convenience of Simon’s action.

“But, of course,” he said. He directed his attention back to me.

“(Y/N)?” He asked again, prompting me to answer his initial question. My breathing quickened as my fears drew closer to my brain.

Was this his attempt at lightening the mood or interrogating me? Was he suspicious of our story? Did he and Margot discuss the unlikelihood that someone of my age could even bear a child? Was our entire story about to come crashing down? Were we about to be discovered? Were we about to lose the house?

Simon grabbed my hand under the table and squeezed it three times. I took a deep breath and regained my composure.

“Well… we’ve known for about 2 weeks, but we suspect that I’ve been with child for close to a month.” I said.

“Ah, okay.” He conceded, but Garrison soon spoke up with a quizzical look on his face.

“Simon, did you visit last month?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t.” He answered earnestly. I nudged his foot with my toe under the table.

“But, er- (Y/N) actually came to visit me at my estate.” He clarified.

“Oh, of course. How is the old house, by the way? Last I remember you inherited it from your father. Still standing strong?”

“Well, yes… but I unfortunately lost the deed to it last week.” My head shot up and I looked at Simon, confused as to why he didn’t mention this beforehand.

“What happened?” Garrison asked.

“It’s a long story, but it belongs to the O’Brien family now.” He said.

“O’Brien? As in ‘Danny O’Brien’? That gambling son-of-a-bitch. Don’t tell me you bet the house and lost!” my brother jested.

“Yes, that’s exactly what happened.” Simon chuckled, “Serves me right, though. I was starting to get lonely in that big empty house, anyway.”

“(Y/N) are you sure you want to have a kid with this man? He might bet the child on horses!” Garrison laughed.

“I’m sure he would never even dream of such a thing” I giggled, “Right, dear?”

“Of course not! Unless he gave me a reason to.” He joked. The whole table erupted into laughter. It felt… nice to finally feel included in my family’s fun. 

It was like my father was the keeper that had me locked away, and his death opened my cage. Or maybe it was Simon. Maybe our union was what made my family realize I had been desirable all this time and they had been blind. Either way, I was glad to finally be let into their world.

Our attendants came around each side of us and took away our empty plates. Simon stood up and pulled back my chair to let me out from the table. Everyone else stood as well. 

Soon we all found ourselves gathered around the piano in the house’s great room, as Alice played a few lively arrangements that I had never heard before. Garrison grabbed his viola off the mantle of the fireplace and joined her. My nephews clapped in time with the music and I watched as my nieces danced around the room. Soon, Margot jokingly began to sing along. She never had that lovely a singing voice, but I think that was part of the fun. Were we experiencing merriment due to my father’s absence, or had things always been like this and this was the first time I was invited along? I chose to believe it was the former.

Alice and Garrison finished playing and the rest of us applauded them. My mind began to wonder about how this day began. The severity and stress of this morning suddenly disappeared into thin air. Was I dreaming, or was something terrible about to happen? 

I set my worries aside and decided to enjoy this night with everyone.

After a few more songs, I inhaled and exhaled thoroughly. Simon took note of this and placed his arm around my shoulders.

“Are you growing tired, (Y/N)?” He asked. I nodded my head.

“I think I’ve had enough excitement to last me a lifetime.” I said. Simon and I knew what I meant by this, but everyone else must have assumed I was only referring to the events of that night. Which, I partially was.

“Then I think we had better retire you to your quarters for the evening.” Simon said.

“Sleep well; tomorrow we will begin preparations for father’s burial.” Garrison said, solemnly. The quietness we had experienced at the beginning of the evening was back now. Simon nodded with pursed lips.

“We will see you all in the morning, then.” He finally said. I opened the door for us and we left the room.

“That was so much fun!” I said to Simon as we walked up the stairs.

“It truly was! I must say you’re glowing, my dear.” He commented. I laughed at the compliment.

“I wish we could do that more often.” I sighed as we reached the top of the steps.

“Have you never had nights like that before?” He asked.

“No, never. At least, not including me.” I laughed. I opened my bedroom door and walked in with Simon following.

“What do you mean by that?”

I walked behind my dressing screen and began to change into my nightgown. He walked to the foot of my bed and began changing as well.

“Well,” I said from behind the divider, “We just never spent time together like that. I’m unsure if they ever did and just failed to involve me. But, you must already know all about that.”

“I suppose I never realized the extent of how often you were left out. It saddens me that you haven’t experienced that kind of joy before.”

I thought for a moment.

“I have, though.” I said, peeking my head from behind the screen. He cocked an eyebrow at me. I noticed his eyes shift to look at my exposed shoulders that were within view from where he was standing. I shifted my feet to further hide my skin. Of course, I couldn’t stop myself from staring at his exposed chest either. He didn’t seem to notice this, however.

“I thought you said you had never spent time together like that-”

“I meant with you, Simon.” I rolled my eyes and slid back behind the screen.

“Oh.” was all he said.

“The only other time I’ve ever experienced anything like that was when you took me out into the forest. The excitement of doing something I wasn’t supposed to but knowing I couldn’t get caught. Being there with someone I loved. Maybe that’s why tonight I was so worried that something terrible was about to happen. Because the last time I allowed myself to be that happy-”

“It all got ruined.” He cut me off, finishing my thought. I stood still and looked down at the floorboards beneath my feet.

“Please don’t tell me that you still feel guilty over that.” I sighed.

“Of course I do, (Y/N). I almost lost you, and it was all my fault. If I hadn’t taken you out that night, you would have never-”

“Experienced happiness for the first time in my life?” I carried on this evening’s tradition of interrupting each other. I walked out from behind the privacy screen and over to him. I wrapped my arms around his torso and swayed a bit with him.

“The events of that night are in the past, Simon. I haven’t had anything involving demonic entities happen to me since then. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I’m still going to worry,” he said, “I can’t help myself.” 

I looked up at him and grabbed his face in my hands

“I know you can’t.” I sighed in defeat and raised myself to place a brief kiss on his lips. As our lips touched, he placed his hands on my waist and brought me deeper in. Something I wasn’t opposed to in the slightest.

We released from each other’s embrace and I laid my head against his chest, closing my eyes. We stayed like that for a while

“You should really go to sleep,” he hummed, “there’s a lot happening tomorrow that may need your attention.”

“What about you?” I asked, “Are you not tired?”

“I’m exhausted, but there are a few things I need to discuss with your brother regarding the logistics of the deed.”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I mean, since I’m the owner of the house it should involve me. Right?”

Simon averted my gaze, looking down at the floor.

“Right, Simon?”

He looked up at the ceiling and held his breath. I wasn’t stupid.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

He sighed and looked down at me.

“When your father and I discussed the deed, he had a few… conditions.”

“Such as?”

“He would only agree to give it to us… if the deed was in my name,” he said, “I’m technically the owner of the house.”

“Oh.” I should have known that my father would never just give the deed to me. 

“That makes perfect sense, why would he give his blood daughter the rights to the house? Nevermind the fact that it’s the house she was raised in. It’s only natural that he would favor a friend of his son over his own child.” I said, sarcastically.

“It’s not like that, darling. You know how old-fashioned his mind was… It’s likely due to me being your husband.” he reasoned.

“But you aren’t,” I said.

“He didn’t know that,” he responded.

“So if we aren’t legally married, then does the house still go to you?”

“He had me sign my name.”

“And you did so willingly?” I asked, “Did you even hesitate? ”

“You think I didn’t protest?”

“No, not at all,” I sarcastically quipped, “I’m sure you were eager to sign since you’d lost your house.”

He looked at me with anger, his face turning red. Looking at his eyes, I could see purple veins begin to strain under his skin. A type of expression I would have never thought humanly possible.

“What exactly do you think you’re accusing me of?”

“I’m just saying, it’s awfully convenient for you to arrive here as my father, the owner of this house, was passing- right after you lost your home.”

“You think the only reason I’m here is for this house?” he snapped, “I thought I had made it abundantly clear that I came here for you.”

“Oh, of course! Because the next logical step after not contacting someone for over 30 years is to show up unannounced and make them your wife without a proper proposal.” I scoffed.

“Is that what this is about?” he asked, lowering his voice. I paused for a moment to think. Was it? I suppose in a way it was. Though, if I admitted that, would he become the victor in this debacle? I refused to let that happen.

“No, o-of course not,” I stammered, “I just want you to tell me the truth, Simon.”

“The truth?” He asked.

“Yes. Why are you here? Why now? Why did you agree to my father’s proposition?” I asked, it all came out in more of a whisper than I had intended it to.

“In the simplest of phrases, my love, I did what I thought would be best for us.” he explained.

“What about what was best for me? When you decide you don’t love me anymore, are you going to throw me onto the street?” I asked, squeezing my eyes shut and tightening my fists in on themselves. I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me, a mix of sadness and shock painted across his face. Had I angered him?

“I’m sorry… I don’t know why I said that- or where that came from…” I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop, please.” he said whilst taking my hands in his, “I cannot bear to see you like this. I despise how you talk about being left alone and unloved as if it were inevitable.”

A few tears fell from my eyes. I looked down at his hands where they had landed.

“I’m sorr-”

“(Y/N).” he said, sternly. That was all he had to say to get me to stop. Despite it being such a direct command, he sounded warm and loving. Like he was only doing what he thought was right by me. I had only ever known strict and cold commands as a way to control me. However, with the death of my father, I supposed the era of harsh motives was over. That was something I would need to get used to.

Lost in my thoughts over his voice, I didn’t even realize that he was now down on one knee in front of me. Was he…?

“Simon-!”

“No, this isn’t the proposal.” he said, a hint of playfulness now gracing his tone. I was astounded at how quickly his mood had shifted- feeling guilty, as if my tears manipulated him into concealing his anger.

“This is a promise.” he said, “(Y/N), I promise that I will never stop loving you. I promise I will never leave you. I promise I will always be at your side when you need me to be. I promise that I will spend the rest of our lives doing anything to make you happy. You deserve nothing less.”

I gazed into his brown eyes. They had softened and had so much meaning and intent behind them. I refused to let his feeling be merely one-sided, so I found myself kneeling onto the ground in front of him as well. I kept his hands in mine as I spoke.

“And I promise you, Simon, that I will never stop loving you either. I promise that I will do whatever it takes to show you that your efforts to make me happy will not be in vain. I promise to make sure that every day we spend together feels as effortless as the days we first met. I promise that you and I will be infinite.”

He looked down at the floor for a beat.

“What?” I asked.

“You stole that last one from me.” he muttered, looking up at me with a coy look in his eye.

I rolled my eyes and removed my hands from his, opening my arms and throwing them around his neck in a hug. He placed a small kiss on the nape of my neck and rested his chin on my shoulder as he hugged me back.

“I’m sorry that I signed.” He said. Of course, I accepted his apology, but I still wasn’t thrilled about the situation.

“And I’m sorry that I got so heated.” I said.

“It’s quite alright, my love. I understand that you come from a life of constantly feeling inadequate and like anyone could turn on you at any moment. I can imagine where your feelings were coming from.” He said. It felt so good to know that he was making an effort to understand me rather than immediately remove himself from my life completely.

“Is there any possible way that I would be able to have it in my name? I could even cosign second to you if that’s what must happen.” I suggested, “I just don’t want to lose this house, Simon. I want to feel secure.”

“I will discuss the matter with your brother tonight.” he said, releasing me from the hug and placing his hands on my shoulders.

“Thank you.” I replied. He smiled before bringing his lips to mine.

“Now,” he said, “please get some rest. I’m sure today has exhausted you enough.”

I nodded as he released me from our embrace. He stood from his spot on the floor and offered his hand to help me up. He walked me around to the side of the bed and I climbed in, bringing the covers over me. He lowered his head and kissed me goodnight. I watched as he walked towards the door, his eyes lingering on me for a moment before leaving the room.

I laid there on my side, watching the flame of the pillar candle on my bedside table dance and flicker. My mind began to do what it did best; wander.

34 years since I saw that monster, and I haven’t had any experiences like that since. But the rage I felt tonight made me feel demonic myself. Not to mention the look in Simon’s eyes… or rather, around them. Had he always had those veins? Maybe I unsheathed some sort of anger within him, or maybe he was tired. It could also be from age… he otherwise looked quite good for 57. I’ve been told on multiple occasions that I look young for my age, so I couldn’t help but ask myself if they all meant what they said, or if they were all just empty compliments.

I got out of bed and grabbed the candle next to my bed. I tiptoed over to the mirror by my dresser and sat down on the creaky floorboards beneath me. Holding the candle steadily in one hand, I began to stroke my cheeks and eyelids.

They were smooth.

Ordinarily, women would kill for skin like mine at my age. I, on the other hand, was perplexed by it. Unsettled, even. You would think the stress of my family would cause some sort of permanent disarray on my face. However, I looked the same as I did at 22- the age I was when I met Simon.

The age I was when I came face-to-face with the demon.

Ideas started flooding into my mind about what it all could mean. The thought of that thing still being a part of my life without even presenting itself to me was enough to make me flinch. Unfortunately, I forgot I was holding the candle.

Wax splashed onto the back of my hand and burned my skin. I quickly blew on the area it had landed on to harden it, and picked it all off my skin once it was solid. The back of my hand was bright red.

I sighed and got up off of the floor, and started walking back over to my bed. I passed my window and paused, looking out at the forest behind my home. A voice in the back of my mind spoke to me.

If you have questions, find the answers.

I stood there, looking at the trees. I had questions, plenty of them. I deserved answers, didn’t I?

Well… I had better go find them.

╚═════════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════════════╝

[imaginarianisms]

here's a few things the rpc has REALLY gotta get back into doing !!

Reading Each Other's Rules !!

Communicate Communicate Communicate Communicate & Not jumping to conclusions about people & assuming other people's character & intentions & Ask what they mean & if you need clarification on something Ask Them. i promise you things would likely go a lot more smoothly & bad experiences with people not communicating with me/you/us that could've been avoided or at the very least reduced if we simply spoke to one another & less feelings would be hurt.

Stop Vaguing People & Getting Involved In Shit & Being Mean To People For Petty Shit When Things Can Literally Be Communicated In Private Respectfully. civil discussions can go a really long way. if the disrespect or offense in question isn’t malicious, there’s no need to approach the topic maliciously. you’d be surprised at just how much can be solved by just asking someone to clarify something.

Understand That Just Because Someone Writes Something Or A Character Does Not Mean That They Condone Or Endorse Them Y'all Why Are We Still Having This Conversation In The Year 2024

don't like something or you genuinely can't handle a topic? use the tools at your disposal to curate your own space (there's two magical things on your screen: the scrollbar & the block button that you can use that can be your true besties frfr) that's Your responsibility tungle dot hellsite dot com user, not anyone else's.

respecting others & understanding that's another human person sitting on the other side of that screen that has hopes & dreams & feelings the same way you do.

telling your friends how lovely & talented they are & how they portray their muses !! there's a whole lot of negativity going on, the best thing we can do is lift each other up & treat each other with kindness & compassion !!

commenting on peoples' posts, hcs, art, edits, etc., telling them you see it & that it looks good, it's cool, it's entertaining, etc., bc we as content creators can't read your mind & as nice as it'd be for us to always serve ourselves with our work, realistically people Will lose motivation to continue creating after a while without some kind of support. if you Like Something then SAY SOMETHING!!!!!!

sending each other's muses messages about other muses they're talking to, characters from their canon if applicable, their worldbuilding & generally getting actively involved in the narratives & worlds other people create & encouraging people to discuss them. there's nothing i like more than doing that, it feels great.

asking random unprompted questions about your friends' characters without fear it's "too much" (THAT'S YOUR ANXIETY BRAIN TALKING!!!!! DON'T LISTEN TO IT SOMETIMES OUR BRAINS LIE!!!!!) provided the question isn't invasive or rude, ESPECIALLY if the character is an original and/or fandomless character.

sending heartfelt & honest words of positivity about other people & the work they do, not chainmail, not lazy generic shit, but out of real kindness from the heart.

Drawing People Fanart / Making Graphics / Making Drabbles of their characters / ships / OC's !!!! please !!! really !!! most people adore it !!!! i Promise you that taking the time & putting in the effort to show someone that the work they do inspired the stuff you do will make anyone's fuckin day. it'd make me explode & die tbh.

Telling!!!!! Other!!!!!!!!!!!! People!!!!!!!!!!! That!!!!!!!!!!! We're!!!!!!!!!! All!!! Doing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jobs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Actually Interact With Each Other. i have no idea what's going on these last few years but years ago we used to interact w/ each other a lot more than we used to. send asks & memes & prompts to each other, ask each other questions about the muns & their muses & actually take the time to interact with your moots & muses.

acknowledging our mental health!!!!! you're not a robot, you're a human being!!!!! be okay with the fact that folx need space & time! it's okay to not be in the mood all the time, you're a living breathing human being that matters, respect that.

make sure Other people feel included in discord servers, rp groups, multi-way threads, events & just overall & not just the few people you talk to. it's perfectly normal & understandable that you may vibe with some people more than others, but only talking to other people you're familiar with can lead to your other moots feeling left out. your moots aren't numbers on your follower list, they're people & writers & they deserve reciprocity & vice versa. if you're not going to engage with someone then why follow them. that's literally the whole point of being moots.

surround yourself with people who actually love you.

acknowledge each other's artwork, graphics, metas, threads & worldbuilding in your own portrayals & works. PLEASE. PEOPLE !!!! DON'T!!!!!! KNOW!!!!! YOU!!!!!! LIKE!!!!! THEM!!! IF!!!!! YOU!!!!! SAY!!!!!!!! NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!! TELL!!!!!!!! THEM!!!!!!! THEY!!!!!! MATTER!!!!!

Literally Just Being Fucking Nice To Each Other Openly For No Reason Or Prompt

understand that there's a glaring, obvious hatred of & disregard & a subconscious bias & avoidance of characters of color (ESPECIALLY black & indigenous / native characters of color), elder characters, really young characters, characters with strong cultural and/or religious influences that aren’t easily digestible/palatable/dumbed down/fetishized especially if they're tied to a marginalized community, female characters who don't automatically ship and/or smut with you, disabled characters, mentally ill & neurodivergent characters who aren’t concentrated into Edgy Aesthetics TM & nothing else, t.wo s.pirit, t.rans, n.onbinary, g.enderfluid, a.gender & i.ntersex characters (especially queer characters of color), fat characters, nonhuman characters, especially characters who's marginalized identities intersect with each other, characters who aren’t cis and/or heterosexual and/or p.erisex skinny white people in their 20's ... i could truly Go On but actually practicing what y'all preach & opening up your minds to new things & portrayals, ask yourselves Why you don't interact with or write any of these characters if that applies (which likely does) & start showing up for these muses & the muns that portray them, ESPECIALLY muns of color, because these are stories that NEED to be heard, loved, respected & most of all appreciated.

[orcboxer]

Re that post about elemental planes of x...

PLEASE tell us more about your elemental plane of language that sounds awesome and I want to know everything.

Depending on who you ask, the Atrament could be a place, a form of matter, an entity, or an idea.

It's an infinite library, a tower reaching up towards heaven. It can show up damn near anywhere, but if you look away for even a moment it's gone. That's the trouble with planes unbound by time or space, portals never seem to last. The workers in the tower keep buildin higher and higher, tryna see how far into heaven they can reach before divine punishment puts an end to their terrible work, but what they don't realize is there ain't no gods to stop em. At this point it's been goin on for so long, the workers at the top have never seen the ground, and they never will. Even if they jump they'll die long before they stopped fallin.

It's a substance, an ink that never fully dries, never stops moving. It gets in the water, stains your hands when you're not lookin, and warps your perception of reality, or maybe it's warping reality itself, hell if I know. My great aunt used to say the construction of the tower library began when the water in the well turned black, sent everyone into a fit of terrible madness. But if the ink comes from the tower, how could it have poisoned the townsfolk before it existed?

It's a conscious entity, if you ask the preacher, and it's trying to communicate with us through our own words. That's why the church folk never stop writin, never stop fillin up that damn tower with books, even though most of the books are gibberish. Every combination of symbols can be found in that library, and it looks like it means nothing, but sometimes you'll find one with your name in it, or a snippet of a moment you swear is a dream you'd had long time ago but since forgot, and a feller can only suspend disbelief for so long before he starts to think maybe there's a larger pattern behind it all. Trouble is, everyone who believes in it thinks they know what it's tryin to say, and none of them agree. Is it god, is it a demon, is it an alien, does it want us to find it, to reach it, to kill it, to build it? Does it know we're here at all?

You ask me, it's an idea that sticks in the mind, a pattern you keep repeatin to yourself no matter how hard you try to stop, a terrible madness that set a whole town to buildin a tower that never ends and fillin it with books that never cohere yet somehow never repeat. Stranger come into town last week lookin for her friend, sayin they gone up into the library lookin for somethin and never come back. Told her we get folks like her all the time, that friend ain't real, you just got hold of a nonsense book that sounded too familiar. It's a trap, I told her, a trick of the mind tryna get you wanderin right into that old tower, and once you go in there start askin questions you ain't never gon come out. Best you forget about your friend right here and now cause the longer you think on it the less you'll understand. It starts fuckin with your brain, you start sayin shit that don't make sense, over and over until you're just a crude signal repeatin the same sentence over and over again. If you ask me, it's cause it's an idea gets in your mind and stays there. Like an obsession. It's what got this whole town buildin a tower that never ends and fillin it with books that never cohere. Somehow they never repeat though. But the people here do. Hell, you think about it for too long, ask too many questions, you just start sayin the same thing over and over like a radio signal playin the same tape over and over. Over and over and over and over. And if you ask me, it's an idea that worms its way into your mind and