#all others do now is wander and stick to the same few friends and people- buy shit- then leave. :/

[biioniic-biiohazard]

((NOTE: i was going to keep this in tags but decided not to :3) this was such a common word and thing in 2000s to 2010s fandom spaces, especially anime fandom spaces. like you could not go to a convention or open deviantart or even tumblr without seeing at least one mention of the word- ''glomp me'' signs and shirts everywhere, cosplayers and internet friends running up to each other just to hug on sight at meets, artists online drawing and animating their ocs doing this with their friends' ocs or making bases of anime screenshots of characters doing the exact thing, getting dms and replies and comments with just a simple *glomps u* thrown in there. you would see such a specific kind of closeness and joy in these people, and frankly it upsets me deeply knowing it as a phrase and term in fandom ...is almost completely gone :( so yknow what! im glad you discovered this word! bring back glomping or whatever yknw? lets have more fun in fandom spaces and be silly together okay? :D

I just....I just learned that there's a word in the English language...for when you run into someone to hug them with all the enthusiasm and strength you have....I learned that it's called glomp.

My God, English has so many words to describe physical intimacy, I'm in love

[ryukatters]

swipe right — k. bakugo x fem! reader

✮ a/n: i remember seeing a post on here a long time ago about a character making a fake tinder profile for their gf and realizing how many people want her. (if someone knows the OG post please lmk so i can link it!) so now i present to you: bakugo falling to his knees in the middle of your apartment bedroom for the exact same reason.

✮ content/warnings: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp but when do I ever write him as being otherwise??

✮ summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.

✮ word count: 4.2k (i'm so sick)

Bakugo can remember how this all started. In very vivid detail, actually. He remembers because Kaminari had pissed him off so much to the extent that it took him a very substantial amount of effort to refrain from bashing his friend’s face in.

It all started during the last monthly hangout amongst Bakugo and his friends— one day out of the month designated to make sure that they all had time to catch up with one another despite their busy schedules.

Everything was normal, with all of them getting more than enough of their fill of food and alcohol while idly playing video games and talking about random topics to fill in the silence in Kaminari’s living room. 

Perfectly normal, until Denki decided to open his stupid mouth, at least. 

He goes off on a tangent about a trend he saw on social media where someone makes a fake Tinder profile for their partner to see how many matches they’d get. He proceeds to tell Bakugo that he should try doing it, for “funsies,”— to which Bakugo scoffs at. 

“Aren’t you curious, Kacchan?” Kaminari smiles cheekily, wrapping an arm around his blond friend’s shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Bakugo’s becoming visibly more upset with every passing moment. 

“Your girlfriend is really pretty,” Mina chimes in, sticking her tongue out when Katsuki whips his head to glare at her. “I’m still surprised she’s with a grump like you.” 

Kaminari butts in, “I bet there’s a whole line of guys around the block just waiting for a chance to get with her. I mean, just look at her! Hell, I’d even let her peg m—”

For a moment, Bakugo swears he wants to bash Kaminari’s face into his flatscreen. And for a moment, he lets that impulsive thought win— getting up and grabbing two fistfuls of Denki’s shirt before promptly getting cut off by Kirishima.

“Alright alright,” Kirishima forcibly pries Bakugo off of the other blond, pushing him off to the side. “That’s enough, you two. Kaminari was just messing around. I’ll admit, it wasn’t a good joke, but no need to hurt the guy, okay Bakugo?” 

Kirishima knows that Kaminari wasn’t being that serious, but Kirishima can also admit that what he had to say held some ounce of truth. And Kirishima knows Bakugo well enough to see how your boyfriend tends to be rather skittish and protective with matters concerning you— which is exactly why Eijiro had to stop him before it was too late. He really didn’t feel like preparing for Denki’s funeral or helping hide Katsuki escape from a homicide charge.

And that was that…up until a few minutes ago.

Katsuki’s tried to forget that conversation. But try as he might, his mind betrays him and can’t help but wander back to what Denki said that night.

He trusts you of course, and has complete faith in your relationship. However, he’s curious to a fault, just about perhaps too curious for his own good. 

How badly could this end?

As it turns out, this whole scheme seems to be playing out very poorly. 

Dozens of photos of you— screenshotted from your social media accounts— fill Katsuki’s screen. He had to choose photos you uploaded yourself, because most of his photos of you were either too…suggestive or too domestic (and he wants to be the only one to see you in those moments).

He swipes through “your” profile one last time before clicking “done” to officially put you on the market. And just like that, Bakugo’s met with the faces of men who are nowhere near your level. He goes through the batch of profiles, scrutinizing each one he comes across. He’s (un)surprisingly selective with the ones he chooses to swipe right on— making sure that they’re at least somewhat conventionally attractive. To his surprise (or dread, rather), his phone pings right away with a notification from someone who swiped back. Another ping. A message. 

You free tonight? 

Bakugo scoffs. He looks through the guy’s profile— a picture of him at a party with his arms around some girls, another with him doing a victory pose presumably after hiking, and one with him holding a fish. He feels his mouth curl in disgust, about to give into the urge to reply and give this guy a piece of his mind, before he realizes he’s pretending to be you. He takes a deep breath, closes out of the app, and puts down his phone. 

He’s starting to regret this.

Bakugo’s phone has gone off 15 times in the last hour. Bakugo has also felt the need to strangle some stranger through the phone 15 times in the last hour. Your (read: his) profile has existed for less than 60 minutes, and you already have a whole address book of nobodies trying to link with you and get a quick fuck. 

He feels the familiar beginnings of a headache creeping up the back of his skull. He thinks he might need a drink. Why did he decide to do this again?

In hindsight, he probably should have known this is exactly how it was going to go down. 

What was that saying? Curiosity killed the cat?

Yeah.

He was never great at self-preservation in the first place. So this, the feeling of overwhelming jealousy, frustration, possessiveness brewing up a storm threatening to pour out of every single fiber of Bakugo’s being— was no surprise.

He watches as the numbers at the bottom of his screen increase steadily, before tapping on the star icon. 

‘99+ likes!’ it reads. Over 99 people who saw your profile and thought you were beautiful. Bakugo pales, and he can feel the cold sweat building on the nape of his neck. He grips his phone, knuckles turning white. Is he shaking from anger or nervousness?

Anger because all these guys think they even have the slightest chance with someone as amazing as you. Nervousness because what if you decide that they do? You wouldn’t actually leave him for one of these guys, right? Right?

None of these men would walk through hell and back for you. They don’t know how you like your coffee, the details of your skin care routine, how you like to binge watch shows and talk Katsuki’s ear off about them (not that he ever minded, of course). They don’t know you, not like he does. Katsuki looks at you like you hung the moon. In fact, he’s pretty convinced that you did. Everything good in his life— the warmth, the color, the joy,— is encompassed by you. He’d be damned if he lets some greasy little nobody take that from him. Because the moment Bakugo fell in love with you, you became a part of him— inextricably and indefinitely. Loving you has become so intrinsic to him, that even the mere thought of another person loving you or looking at you the same way he does has him going insane. Not that anyone could love you like he did, though. That thought brings him some comfort, but not for long. 

One last notification he sees sends him spiraling. Bakugo swears that he can see red. That’s when he deletes the app, and throws his poor phone in some random corner of the living room, which is markedly one of the smarter choices he’s made as of late. He marches to your bedroom with a fire burning in his chest. 

He stops short of the door and finds you sitting at the edge of your shared bed, fresh out of the shower. You’re applying lotion, and he watches the cream absorb into your skin wordlessly, in awe at how overwhelmingly beautiful you manage to look in the most prosaic of tasks. For a second, he almost forgets the reason he was upset in the first place.  

Your hair is still damp, water droplets accumulating at the tips, and Katsuki feels his mouth run dry the minute he watches a stray bead fall and make its way down your neck and stop perfectly in the dip of your collarbone. Your very existence is forever etched into his heart, every inch of you carved into his memory, but even still he can never get tired of looking at you. At every angle, in every lighting, he needs to see you in it. You could call him obsessed, but he’d simply laugh and agree, because what’s so wrong with that? Especially if it’s you. 

You’re one to be studied— to be adored, Katsuki thinks, to the greatest capacity. It’s what you deserve. And what better person for that task to fall upon than him?

He finds himself naturally gravitating towards you, his finger tracing the same exact path the water had carved just moments before, wordlessly. You try to pay no mind, but it’s difficult as you realize just how close Bakugo was and how your towel barely manages to cover up your most intimate parts. One wrong move and you’d be exposed. With how things were playing out, and the predatory glint in the blond’s eyes, you don’t think your boyfriend would be too perturbed with your current predicament. 

Katsuki presses a delicate kiss to your forehead before he crouches down. Suddenly, you’re at eye level with one another, his hot breath tickling your lips. You think for a moment he’s going to kiss you so you lean forward, lips waiting. But he merely grazes them before he sucks a deep bruise into the juncture of your neck, biting slightly. 

You’re barely given any time to react before he’s grabbing the hand that’s securing your towel and ripping it away, the offending garment falling off your body. Your flesh prickles with goosebumps as its exposed to the sudden chill.  It’s quickly replaced by the heat of Bakugo’s body as he pushes you lightly, your back hitting the mattress. He crawls on top of you, muscular thighs on either side of your hips, your head placed conveniently between his forearms. He’s trapped you, a nonverbal challenge for you to try and escape. 

You’re a work of art, he thinks, but much more valuable than any pièce de résistance framed in any museum. 

Beautiful, yes, but far too blank for his liking. He wants to ruin you, make you his own personal magnum opus. And so he does. 

He presses a clothed knee against your bare cunt, pressing firmly. His lips continue their assault on your neck, leaving angry purpling bruises in their wake. Rough hands find your breast, and you moan in surprise when he gives both of them a harsh squeeze as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. Katsuki kisses you like a man dying of thirst, hungry for everything you can offer him and more. It’s all too much already, the way he’s kissing you has your mind reeling, and you have to turn your head away for a moment to catch your breath. Katsuki thinks it’s a moment too long without you, so he coaxes you into locking lips with him once more. A wave of mischievousness washes over you, prompting you to take your boyfriend’s lower lip in between your teeth, biting down lightly. 

You feel his breath hitch, before he lets out a low groan as he grinds his clothed dick against your bare wetness. He returns the favor, sucking on your bottom lip before letting it go with a wet pop. He pulls back with a lazy smirk, his lips pursing together to scatter messy kisses down the base of your throat and down your chest, alternating between sucking and biting at the flesh. 

He gives you a good once-over, scanning every surface, committing them to memory. You feel the need to curl into yourself with how intensely those vermillion eyes are piercing into you, memorizing every single curve, scar, freckle like he’s done time and time again. 

He drops down to his knees, broad shoulders bullying their way in between your legs, forcibly prying them open. He grips your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh, and drags you down the mattress until your legs are dangling off the bed.

“Jesus, Kats, be more gentle.”

“Shhh. I know you like it when I’m not gentle,” he chuckles. As if to prove a point, he pulls you down even further, giving a harsh bite to your inner thigh. He smiles deviously when you yelp. You try to pull at his hair but his reflexes are too quick, pinning both of your wrists down on either side of you easily. “Besides, this is the perfect height for me to eat you out, dontcha think baby?” 

You want to chastise him for being so crass, so Katsuki, but the words die on the tip of your tongue the minute he gives a sweet, loving kiss to your clit, sucking lightly. 

“You’re mine. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this except for me.” 

You’re not entirely sure what brought this on, but you find it hard to complain when Bakugo drags his tongue from your throbbing clit to inside your pussy, drinking everything you have to offer. 

Your hands automatically try to find purchase in his blond locks, struggling against the vice grip Katsuki has on your wrists. He decides to take pity on you, loosening his hold so you can slip your hands into his hair, moaning appreciatively when he feels you tug. He rewards you by flicking his tongue on your clit over and over again, just the way you like it. He does it until your moans begin to pitch higher and higher, the same way that they do when you’re close. He doesn’t stop his ministrations even after you cum, riding out your orgasm until your thighs are shaking from overstimulation. He pulls away from you with a loud pop, taking in the sight before him. 

He runs a hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “So fucked out already and we’re barely getting started, baby.”

Your mind is barely processing his words before you feel Katsuki’s erection brush against your stomach, his clothing haphazardly discarded on the floor. He taps the head of his dick against your clit to tease you, a feeling of satisfaction swelling when you cry out from under him.  

He watches in fascination as strings of your arousal cling to him. He positions his length at your entrance, locking eyes with you as you hold your breath in anticipation. Katsuki likes you like this. Needy for him. 

 “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” He slips into you with a stuttered groan. 

Katsuki’s always been big. You never get used to the initial stretch, no matter how many times you two fuck. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sliding in with ease from the slick of your last orgasm. It easily coats his cock as he gives a few experimental thrusts. He groans in rapture. How do you manage to feel so good every time? It’s enough to drive him insane. Perhaps he already is. 

“So fucking perfect, no wonder why all those losers want you.” He mutters out the last part, and you’re not sure if you caught that right. 

“What?” He chooses not to respond, and you aren’t given the opportunity to think any further before your legs are thrown over his shoulders, Katsuki’s weight effectively pinning you in place. The stretch knocks all the wind out of your lungs, and all you can do is cling to Katsuki, nails leaving red, angry lines on his well-defined back.

He wastes no time before he starts drilling into you, hips slotting in between your legs perfectly. The position has him pressed against your clit, and your entire body feels like it’s been set ablaze, with Katsuki holding both the power to have it burn even brighter and the ability to extinguish it. And you’re almost there, you can feel your soul slowly ascending, your room filled with hymns of pleasure, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, threatening to unravel along with your sanity. Katsuki can feel it too— the way you’re squeezing him tighter, how your gasps and moans have climbed just a note higher, how absolutely ruined you look, how he’s responsible for your current state. Which is exactly why he wants to push it even further, he wants to see how much you’ll break for him— and only him. 

Katsuki cuts you off right before you can reach your peak, pulling out but making sure just his tip is inserted. You come to and take a look at your lover and marvel at the sight. He has a crazed look in his eyes. The way he smirks is absolutely wicked. 

You feel distraught— having been so close but having it ripped away from you. You give your boyfriend a petulant pout.

“Katsuki,” you whine, slapping a hand against his sweaty chest, “Why’d you stop? I was so close!”

“Because I didn’t want you to cum yet,” he says simply. “You’ll be good for me, yeah? I’ll give my baby what she deserves, as long as she’s good.” 

You roll your eyes, huffing. That won’t do for him.

As much as he loves seeing you indulge, he feels a need to punish you— at least a little bit to even begin to atone for being the wicked temptress you are. 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Bakugo growls, gripping your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, causing your lips to purse slightly. “I said be good, okay? Wanna take my time with you.” 

There’s a moment of respite, until you sigh in defeat, knowing better than to argue with him lest you wanted to dig your own grave. “‘Kay, ‘ki.”

He flashes you a smile. Obedient, just how he likes you. “Good girl.”

Katsuki draws his hips back, thrusting just enough to fuck his tip into you. He’s teasing. The amount of willpower on his end it takes not to cum is nauseating. 

“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” he rasps, one hand finding their way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. Your hands reflexively grab his wrist. 

All you can manage is a fucked out moan. Katsuki has to resist the urge to coo, about how he’s managed to turn you into a cockdrunk mess in such a short matter of time. The wave of possessiveness that’s been gnawing at the depths of his soul begins to seep out, and he’s reminded of the reason why the two of you are in this position in the first place. 

He gives your throat another squeeze and a rough slap to your clit. “C’mon princess, answer me. Say it.” He slowly adds more and more pressure until your ears grow hot and air feels like a precious commodity. 

“I-i’m pretty,” you manage to gasp out, tears spilling from your lash line as you begin to lose yourself between the space of pleasure and pain. 

Good. Always so pliant for him.

“That’s right, baby,” he concedes. “So fuckin’ beautiful.” He punctuates the last word with a deep thrust, right against that spongy spot that feels so good. You’re so sensitive that it’s enough to send you spiraling into your second orgasm, walls spasming around him uncontrollably. 

Katsuki stills, staving off his own release with all the restraint he can summon. He silently thanks whatever divine forces are out there that he didn’t cum the minute he felt the first clench of your orgasm. 

He grits his teeth as he wills himself to move, trying not to get lost in the wetness that envelops him. You’re babbling now, senseless moans filling Katsuki’s ears like a sweet melody. 

“Kats, please, I’m too sensitive—” You’re shaking now, muscles trembling with every thrust. 

“But I’m not done with you yet,” he says simply, drawing his hips back with a particularly rough thrust. You choke back whatever you were going to say with a loud cry. “What’s your color, baby?”

You take a moment to answer, brain trying to comprehend the words just uttered to you. You look at Katsuki firmly, “Green.”

“Atta girl,” he praises, the drive of his hips beginning to shallow. He’s close, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. But for you, he tries. “You’re mine, right?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, shivering as goosebumps dance across your skin. 

“Say it,” Katsuki pleads, thrusts growing sloppy by the second. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m all yours, ‘ki.” 

With that, Katsuki’s fate is sealed. He’s left groaning as a flash of pleasure shakes his very soul, filling you up with so much cum that it dribbles onto the mattress even while he’s still inside you. You follow suit, an embarrassingly obscene rhythm of squelching noises fill the silence as you spasm around his dick. He collapses on top of you, but he’s still coherent enough to not dump all his weight on you. 

Your labored breaths fill the room as the two of you come to. Katsuki pulls out of you with a wince, still a bit sensitive. He gives you a peck on the lips before he drags himself down, settling in between your legs much like he was earlier. 

You tense up, “Kats, wait—”

Any and all protests cease the moment Bakugo works his tongue inside of you, slurping lewdly as he drags out the mixture of your cum and his, swallowing. He tries not to stimulate your puffy clit in an attempt to be merciful, but you still feel yourself steadily climbing to what would be your fourth orgasm this session. While the past three have been intense and drowning, this one comes to you in waves, dull pleasure invading your senses as Katsuki continues to eat you out to clean you up. 

He pulls away when you finish, your slick and his saliva coating his chin before he wipes it off on the back of his hand. You stare at his half-hard erection with a half concerned, half quizzical look. “Do you…” you lick your lips, “need help with that? I’m a little sensitive down there  but I could use my mout—”

“Nah, I’m good babe,” he says earnestly, flashing you a smile that he only ever shows around you. “I��ll be back.” With that, your boyfriend leaves the room only to come back with a bottle of water. 

“Drink.” You comply, finishing half the bottle graciously before handing it to him. He downs the rest before he settles next to you on the bed, laying on his side. You mirror him, shifting your body so that you’re both facing each other. 

Katsuki reaches out, finger idly tracing random shapes and lines onto the bare skin on your hip. He has a pensive look on his face, one that he usually doesn’t hold after stolen moments like this; it’s an expression he wears when he’s in deep thought. 

“Baby,” you call out. His eyes snap to yours, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?”

“Whatcha thinking about?” You watch as a hesitant look flashes across your boyfriend’s face before he shakes his head.

“S’nothin’. Just thinkin’ about us two.” He speaks lightly. It’s always been difficult for him to voice his inner thoughts and feelings, so he tends to beat around the bush. You’ve learned that if you ever want something out of him, you’d have to pry a little. Katsuki always indulges you though. 

“What about us?”

“Do you- do you think you’ll ever get tired of this?” He repeats himself, clearing his throat. The question is followed by a weaker, “...of me?”

You think it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever asked, because the answer should be obvious. “I’d never get tired of you, Katsuki. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replies automatically, “but if I ever do anything that upsets you, or if I get too much for you, or if I—” he’s rambling now. Yes, it’s difficult for Katsuki to talk about his feelings, but once you manage to get him to open up, all the walls of his self-made fortress come crashing down and it’s up to you to pick up the pieces. 

“Baby,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips, cupping his sharp jaw with one hand. “Look at me.” And he does— ruby eyes meeting yours. “I love you because you’re you. And I choose to be with you everyday. It’s not always gonna be perfect, no relationship is. But I know that I will always wake up and choose you.” 

You can see the anxiety melt away from Katsuki���s body, shoulders slumping as he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Love you too, sap,” is all he says before he’s pulling you against his chest, squeezing you into a bearhug. You two stay that way until both of you are lulled to sleep. 

You’re laying in bed with Katsuki, both of you dozing off when you hear a slight buzz from your phone on the nightstand. You squint as you try to read the notification, and make out that it’s from your friend.

Denki Kaminari: So did it work?

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, giving a quick glance over your shoulder to check on your boyfriend— fast asleep. You turn back to your phone, your thumbs making quick work at your keyboard. 

You: Just like I said it would. Thanks Denki :)

Writing belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not share my work on Tiktok.

[yourmomsawh0r3]

new beginnings

pairing: Tyler Owen’s x f! reader

Tyler pushed his grocery cart down the cereal aisle, his mind wandering to the endless list of storm reports and data he needed to compile. Living in Tornado Alley kept him busy, but today was his day off, and he intended to make the most of it. His mom had called earlier, asking if he could pick up a few things for her, so here he was, navigating the grocery store with a list in hand.

Y/N walked into the store, her mind preoccupied with the upcoming shift at the hospital al. Being an ER doctor was demanding, but she loved it. As she moved through the aisles, her thoughts drifted back to her childhood in Topeka. She had left so much behind, including her best friend turned rival, Tyler Owens.

Tyler and Y/N had grown up together, inseparable until their teenage years when a series of misunderstandings and hurt feelings had driven them apart. Now, years later, they both lived in the same town, yet their paths rarely crossed.

Lost in their thoughts, they both reached for the same box of cereal at the exact moment. Their hands brushed, and they turned to look at each other.

“Tyler?” Y/N’s voice was filled with surprise.

“Y/N?” Tyler’s eyes widened, taking in the sight of her. She looked effortlessly beautiful in the grocery store lighting, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, freckles scattered across her nose, and those familiar dimples appearing as she smiled.

They stood there for a moment, frozen, before Tyler recovered and stepped back. “Ladies first,” he said, gesturing to the cereal box.

“Wow, chivalry isn’t dead after all,” Y/N replied with a raised eyebrow as she picked up the box and placed it in her cart. “Didn’t think you’d still be in town.”

“Ditto,” Tyler shot back, crossing his arms. “Guess we both had the same idea to stick around.”

“Guess so,” Y/N said, a smirk playing on her lips. “Still chasing storms, I see. Figured you’d have grown out of that by now.”

“Still saving lives, I see,” Tyler retorted. “Figured you’d have moved on to something less dramatic.”

“Some things never change,” Y/N muttered, shaking her head. “You still think you know everything.”

“And you still think you’re always right,” Tyler countered.

An awkward silence stretched between them, filled with the unspoken tension of their past. Finally, Tyler broke it. “Want to grab a coffee? Catch up?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Sure, why not?”

They finished their shopping and met at the small café inside the store. As they sat down with their drinks, the conversation flowed more easily than either had expected. They reminisced about their childhood adventures, laughed about old pranks, and shared stories about their current lives.

“Remember that time we tried to build a treehouse in my backyard?” Y/N asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“How could I forget?” Tyler chuckled. “We got halfway up the tree before your dad caught us and grounded us for a week.”

“I think that was the last time I tried to build anything,” Y/N admitted, shaking her head.

Tyler smirked. “Yeah, you always were better at bossing people around than actually doing the work.”

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically. “And you always thought you could do everything better than everyone else.”

“Maybe because I usually can,” Tyler shot back, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Oh, please,” Y/N laughed. “Your ego is still as big as ever.”

“And your sarcasm is still as sharp,” Tyler retorted, grinning.

As Y/N rolled her eyes again, Tyler felt a surprising surge of attraction. He’d forgotten how feisty and sassy she could be. He found himself admiring her spirit, the fire that had always made her stand out.

“You know,” he said, his voice softening, “I never really understood why we drifted apart.”

Y/N sighed, her expression turning serious. “We were young and stubborn. I guess we both thought the other had changed, and neither of us wanted to admit we missed our friendship.”

Tyler nodded, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I’m sorry for my part in it.”

“Me too,” Y/N squeezed his hand, her smile returning. “But maybe it’s not too late to start over.”

Tyler’s heart skipped a beat as he looked into her eyes. “I’d like that.”

They finished their coffee and left the store together, walking side by side. The tension of their past was gone, replaced by a sense of hope for the future.

As they reached their cars, Tyler turned to Y/N. “How about dinner sometime? We can catch up properly.”

“I’d love that,” Y/N agreed, her dimples deepening as she smiled. “It’s a date.”

Tyler stood on Y/N’s doorstep, holding a bouquet of tulips, his heart pounding in his chest. The door swung open, revealing Y/N in a sundress that hugged her curves perfectly. Her cleavage sat enticingly on her chest, and Tyler felt his breath hitch.

“Wow,” Tyler managed, handing her the flowers. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, a blush coloring her cheeks as she took the bouquet. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Their dinner date was filled with snarky banter and playful sassiness. Tyler couldn’t help but be drawn to Y/N’s sharp wit and fiery spirit. Every eye roll, every sarcastic comment only made him more captivated.

“You still think you can outsmart me?” Tyler teased as they finished their meal.

“I know I can,” Y/N shot back, a challenging glint in her eyes.

Tyler watched intently as Y/N lifted her glass of wine to her lips. The way the deep red liquid touched her lips, glistening as she took a sip, made his heart race. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, her cleavage mesmerizing in the soft lighting of the restaurant. The scent of her perfume, a delicate mix of floral and something uniquely her, filled the air around him, making his senses swim.

“Enjoying the view?” Y/N asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she caught him staring.

Tyler smirked, leaning in closer. “Absolutely. And not just the view.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but Tyler saw the blush spreading across her cheeks. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you love it,” Tyler shot back, his voice low and filled with promise.

As the night drew to a close, the tension between them became palpable. They walked to Tyler’s truck, the air thick with unspoken desire. Once they were parked in her driveway, neither could resist any longer. Tyler leaned in, capturing Y/N’s lips in a heated kiss. She responded eagerly, her hands tangling in his hair as their mouths moved together with a desperate intensity.

Tyler’s hands roamed over her body, feeling the soft fabric of her dress and the warmth of her skin beneath. Y/N’s fingers worked at his belt buckle, her eyes locking with his, filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability.

“May I?” she whispered, her doe eyes searching his face.

Tyler could only nod, unable to form words as his heart raced. Y/N undid his pants, her fingers brushing against his growing arousal. She looked up at him one last time before lowering her head, her lips closing around him.

Tyler’s head fell back against the seat, a low groan escaping his lips as Y/N’s mouth worked its magic. She moved with practiced ease, her tongue swirling around him, her lips creating a perfect seal. The sensation was overwhelming, and Tyler’s hands gripped the edge of the seat, trying to anchor himself.

Y/N teased him, her mouth moving slowly, her eyes flicking up to watch his reactions. She let her lips travel along his length, peppering kisses on his V-line, causing Tyler to shiver with anticipation. She licked the pre-cum off the tip, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she took her time savoring him.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his hand moving to tangle in her hair, urging her on. She responded eagerly, her mouth and hand working in perfect harmony.

Tyler felt himself nearing the edge, the tension coiling tighter within him. “I’m close,” he warned, his voice strained.

Y/N didn’t slow down, her determination clear in the way she continued to pleasure him. With a final, shuddering gasp, Tyler came, his release flooding Y/N’s mouth. She swallowed, her eyes never leaving his, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she pulled away.

Tyler was left breathless, his heart pounding as he looked down at Y/N. “That was… incredible,” he managed, his voice hoarse.

Y/N grinned, her dimples deepening. “You’ve been driving me wild since we were kids. .”

Tyler reached out, pulling her into his lap, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. “I can’t wait any longer,” he whispered against her lips.

Without breaking the kiss, Tyler carried Y/N into the house, his hands sliding up her thighs, feeling the smooth skin beneath her dress. They barely made it through the door before Tyler’s desire overcame him. He set Y/N on the kitchen counter, his hands moving to pull her dress over her head.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to see you like this,” Tyler murmured, his voice rough with desire. “Since we were teens, I’ve imagined this moment.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as Tyler’s hands roamed over her body, his touch sending shivers down her spine. “Then don’t make me wait any longer,” she whispered, her eyes dark with desire.

Tyler didn’t need any more encouragement. He pulled her dress over her head, revealing her in all her beauty. His eyes roamed over her curves, taking in the sight of her bare skin, her breasts exposed and enticing. “You’re perfect,” he breathed, his hands cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples, causing her to arch into his touch.

Y/N’s hands moved to his shirt, unbuttoning it with trembling fingers. She pushed it off his shoulders, letting her hands explore the muscles of his chest and back. Tyler’s mouth found her neck, kissing and nibbling along her skin, eliciting soft moans from her.

“Tyler,” she gasped as his mouth moved lower, trailing kisses down her chest. His hands slid down to her waist, lifting her slightly to pull off her panties, leaving her completely exposed on the counter.

Tyler took a moment to appreciate the sight before him, his breath hitching with anticipation. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe and desire.

He kissed her again, his mouth demanding and hungry. Y/N responded eagerly, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. Tyler’s fingers found her wetness, teasing her entrance, making her gasp and cling to him.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice desperate.

Tyler didn’t make her wait any longer. He positioned himself at her entrance, pausing for a moment to look into her eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice tender.

“Yes,” Y/N replied, her eyes filled with trust and desire.

With a groan, Tyler entered her, the sensation overwhelming them both. He moved slowly at first, savoring the feel of her around him, but soon their need took over, and he began to thrust harder, their bodies moving together in perfect rhythm.

The kitchen filled with the sounds of their lovemaking, the slap of skin against skin, the mingled moans and gasps. Tyler’s hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he drove into her, each thrust bringing them closer to the edge.

Y/N’s nails raked down his back, her head falling back as she gave herself over to the pleasure. “Tyler,” she moaned, her voice breaking.

He could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling as she reached her climax. Tyler followed soon after, his release crashing over him with a force that left him breathless.

They stayed like that for a moment, clinging to each other, their breaths mingling as they came down from their high. Tyler gently lifted her off the counter, carrying her to the couch, where they collapsed in a tangle of limbs.

“That was…” Y/N began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the words.

“Amazing,” Tyler finished for her, a satisfied smile on his lips.

Y/N chuckled, resting her head on his chest. “Yeah, amazing.”

They lay there in comfortable silence, the past forgotten, the future filled with promise. Tyler knew that this was only the beginning of their story, and he couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

As he held Y/N in his arms, he whispered softly, “I’ve missed you.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with emotion. “I’ve missed you too, Tyler. More than you know.”

He kissed her gently, his heart full. “I’m not letting you go this time,” he promised.

“And I’m not letting you go either,” Y/N replied, her smile radiant.

They fell asleep like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the past finally put to rest, and a new future stretching out before them, filled with love and endless possibilities.

[hellfireloserclub]

It was almost 10 pm, and Steve was at the point where if one more, sappy, loved-up couple came wandering through the door of family video looking for a tape for their valentines date night, (that would promptly get forgotten about as they fucked on the sofa in the sea of rose petals or whatever…), he was going to pull out the nail bat and start swinging.

Old him? He had loved all that flashy paper heart and sugar-sweet fakeness, but the new improved Steve? He was looking forward to the six-pack in the fridge and his hot date with Harrison Ford. Alone, locked away from the whole whatever of the situation. 

Steve tried not to feel betrayed because Robin had abandoned him for Nancy. He couldn't ever hate her for that, not after how long it took them to get together. 

But his late shift would have been a lot better if he had his co-workers by his side, yet Eddie and Robbin had abandoned him.

It was just depressing that even Eddie, the one person who said yes to almost everything, had left him to wallow in his own self-pity.

But adventure awaited, and no matter how much Steve had begged him to help cover Robin's dropped shift, Eddie had been firm about it. ' Wednesday night is Campaign night. Do you want to disappoint the gremlins?' 

No amount of Steve pointing out that the gaggle of seventeen-year-olds probably had other plans on Valentine's night that he really didn't want to think about could convince him to change his mind. (Steve had thought about it, and he had made sure they were always safe. He was, after all, always the babysitter, but they were his kids… they DIDN'T do that sort of stuff! He was half a step from Hopper’s general reaction these days, sticking his fingers in his ears when they made inappropriate jokes; they were just toddlers for Christ's sake) 

Not that he wanted to spend valentine's day with Eddie (he did) or that he was secretly wondering if Eddie had a date, (he was) because he had seen Max and Lucas drive past not an hour ago and they were very much not in the basement of Munson’s house playing with dice right now. (Had Eddie lied to him? Had he forgotten the number one rule of the party? Friends don’t lie? What if Eddie had a date? Why did that thought make Steve’s stomach feel as if he had just eaten some of Robin’s more questionable cooking?) 

The end of the shift couldn’t come soon enough and when he finally flipped the sign to closed at 10.30 pm, it tempted him to just leave the tidying for Robin or Eddie to do in the morning. 

It would serve them right for making him witness the absolute horror of other people's public displays of affection.

However, as he brushed the floors and chewed on the leftover promotional chocolates, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander again. Where was Eddie? Did he have some secret other-half that he was hiding from them all? If so, it wasn’t like Eddie to not be open about things like that, at least around the party he was unapologetically himself. Was it another man? Was that why he was being so secretive about it? Steve doubted it was that either, Eddie didn’t hide that part of himself either.

 ‘Were both Bisexual disasters? That’s why we couldn’t be friends in high school, Harrington. We would have seduced the entirety of Hawkins high, it wouldn’t have helped the devil worship allegations, but man, it would have been fun.’

And sure, maybe Steve had been funny with the last few people that Eddie had backed into corners after gigs, but it was just because they weren’t good enough for his Eddie. He was just being a good wingman. Eddie would, and had, done the same for him frequently. It was nothing. They were just protective of each other, that was all… (keep telling yourself that, king Steve). It just made no sense that Eddie would hide things like this from him. 

Steve was just putting the broom back in the closet when he heard the bell over the door go. 

“We’re closed.” Of course, someone would come in now. The people of Hawkins really needed to learn to read, but if you could ignore a multidimensional rift for several years, a closed sign might be a little advanced.

Nobody answered, but he thought he heard the bell go again. He really should start locking the door, especially when his hearing was as bad as it was.

Walking back into the front shop Steve almost jumped a mile.

“Jesus, Eddie! You know better than to sneak up!” Eddie stood in the open hatchway of the service counter, shifting uneasily from foot to foot, but at least looking apologetic. 

“I shouted, but you know” he gestured vaguely toward his ears with one hand, his other holding something behind his back “I'm guessing you were facing away…”

“I was in the closet,” Eddie's eyebrows raised. “Do not make the low-hanging joke, Munson. You're better than that.” 

“Oh come on Steve, it’s just there. Give me the win.” he chuckled nervously.

“Why? Did you strike out on your date?” Steve aimed for joking and missed, hoping that Eddie hadn’t picked up on the bitterness in his voice, he went about pulling the last of the novelty candy off the counter into a box behind it for Robin to graze on in the morning.

Eddie looked at him curiously. “I’m hoping I don’t.”

“Oh? So you did have a date then? I knew it was suspicious Lucas and Max drove past before. You know you didn’t have to lie, right? I would have given you the night off.” that feeling in his chest grabbed and tugged, it was almost painful.

“I need to kick both of their asses, but no Steve, I said I’m hoping I don’t…” Eddie stepped closer to him. “You know, like, future tense, you see I haven’t had the date yet? So I guess what I’m saying is no, I didn’t strike out, not yet at least.” his voice lacked its usual confidence, so unlike Eddie that it made Steve pause.

“So, why are you here, if you have a hot date?” Steve knew that this time he hadn’t kept his voice steady. He was jealous, and he knew it. And by the expression on Eddie’s face, he really hadn’t hidden it at all. 

“Well, I missed an important bit of my master plan. I forgot to do something.”

“Oh, yeah?” suddenly the scuff marks on the floor left by Robin’s Converse were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

“Steve, look at me.” Eddie prompted. He had moved closer again, thrusting something into Steve’s line of vision. Gesturing for him to take it.

“Is this broccoli?” Steve was holding what, clearly, was a bushel of broccoli. Eddie was rocking from one foot to the other again at his side, hiding behind his hair in that adorable way that made Steve’s heart speed up of its own accord. His entire face was bright red and, for once, it looked like Eddie was lost for words.

“Eddie, why have you just handed me broccoli?” His confusion outweighed Steve’s jealous embarrassment. What the hell was happening?

“Be my Valentine? Or whatever? I’m not good at this, I am so not good at this…” 

“Are you serious?”  

“See, I told Rob’s I said you wouldn’t think I was serious if I asked you out on a date on valentines, but she was all ‘who’s his platonic soulmate Ed’s? It’s me, and he loves all this grand romantic bullshit.’ and then I listened to her like an idiot.” Steve watched him pace, hands flying everywhere. “this was a stupid idea. Can we just pretend it never happened?”

Eddie had come to a halt in front of Steve and was making grabbing hands at the Broccoli as if to take it back. 

It just made Steve hold it tighter to his chest. God, he loved this mess of a man. Without thinking, he used his free hand to pull Eddie towards him. 

It just made him hold it tighter to his chest. God, he loved this mess of a man. Without thinking, he used his free hand to pull Eddie towards him. 

“Eddie… shut up.”

Eddie didn’t kiss back at first. Steve had caught him off guard, but soon enough, he was pressing in with gusto, and yeah, that sensation in Steve’s stomach was nothing to do with Robin's cooking. Eddie hadn’t shaved, and his stubble was rough, just as Steve always thought it would be, and he kissed in the same way he did everything else in life, full of energy and over the top. Eddie twisted his hands up into Steve’s hair, and Steve traced his hands up Eddie's neck, making for the mop of hair he had wanted to tangle his hands in since the upside down, even if he hadn’t been sure of the reason back then. 

However, the vegetable in his hand hindered his progress.

“Drop the broccoli Stevie,” Eddie muttered against his lips.

“No, It's my broccoli,” He pulled it back from the kiss, cradling the greenery to his chest. “The broccoli is important, I mean, I don’t understand it, but …”

“It was all they had left in shop, I had planned on this big romantic bunch of flowers, a teddy… the full works, but then Buckley had an emergency… you know what her cooking is like… and then well by the time I escaped it was almost ten on Valentine night and I had to get you something, cause my plan obviously needed it to work, so it was the broccoli or a two-by-four with a smiley face on it courtesy of Joyce, so out of the two I think-”

“Eddie, shut up.” 

“Shutting up.” he mimed zipping his mouth shut as Steve carefully placed the vegetable on the counter. 

“I think a bunch of Broccoli is the most YOU thing ever, you weirdo.” he grabbed Eddie again wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close, placing a small kiss on the end of his nose, Eddie went cross-eyed trying to look at him but grinned none the less. 

“So do I get a win?”

“You get a win.”

And if every year the kids ask Steve why he’s got a bushel of broccoli in a vase on the fireplace on his and Eddie’s anniversary, well, it’s just another win for the man he loves.

(inspired by the old man behind me at the bus stop holding a bushel of broccoli like a bunch of roses because he was too cheap to buy a carrier bag but his wife had demanded he buys broccoli so god damn it he bought the broccoli You go you, stubborn old man. Also, I've written the word broccoli now so many times it no longer looks like a real word.)

( also give me prompts!)

[heliads]

HEY HEY HEY!! can u make a the darkling x reader soulmate au?? one where reader is a powerful grisha and has lived nearly as long as he has? they walked the earth and met each other a few times, not knowing they were the same people. sometimes, a romance almost happened, but because they knew they would outlive them, it never happened. How about aleks meets reader by chance in a village near fjerda and they recognize each other for the first time and realize they are each other's soulmate? ♡ U!!

HEY HEY HEY!! your au is that your scars stay on your soulmate's skin.

masterlist

You would think that the centuries would go by faster once you’d experienced enough of them. When you grow up, it’s like the years pass with greater and greater speed, but there must be a leveling point to that mad exponential curve, because you reached it a long time ago. The decades don’t fly by anymore, they drag like the heels of your boots in the soft mud connecting the Wandering Isle to Novyi Zem.

That particular sinking earth is gone, much like most of the places from your memory. The land bridge between the two nations, which was already tentative at best back when you were born, has long been pulled under the current of the True Sea. Now, the recollections of old work boots falling into dirt have just as much hold as the place itself. Everything you knew is gone, constantly replaced by newer, flashier people and cities.

It haunts you sometimes, more often than not. You lie awake at night with a melody stuck in your head, one you haven’t heard in over two hundred years. There’s no chance that anyone remembers it except you, so you hum it to yourself, wondering if the ghosts of friends past can hear you or if they, too, are just ash and dust by now. Supposedly, they would have been folded into the welcoming arms of the Making at the Heart of the World, but you still harbor a hope that they’re still looking out for you.

Hope is all you have. As if it doesn’t mess with your head to trust your footsteps through a Ravkan town you’d lived in for decades, only to find that it’s doubled in size and population since you were last there. Or, when you finally remember that you owe a neighbor a favor, only to recall that their great-great grandchildren died out a century past. Nothing in this world is yours, not in the way that it was at the start. You can keep reinventing yourself, but it’ll never make anything stick.

All that musing over places long gone, and you still can’t convince the hours of the clock to turn by any faster. You’d like nothing more than for the years to skip by, to finally bring about your end of days or at least a change in them, because if you have more centuries under your belt, it’ll mean you’ll have searched all of the lands as many times as you can, and maybe then, you just might be able to meet your soulmate.

That, of all things, might calm your restless spirit. If it were not enough to have far more centuries in which to live out your life than the rest of the Grisha, you have to do it alone, too, knowing that most everyone you pass has someone out there built for them, someone to keep them company in a way you will never understand, no matter how many generations you live.

You often wonder if your soulmate might be out there somewhere. It’s an easy matter to spiral over. They could have been alive at the very start of your life, and died centuries before you could even meet them. Maybe there were only a few days in which your lives overlapped, or maybe you were born on the exact same day and never knew it until they died and you stayed, relentlessly, alive.

Or, worst of all, they could still be out there now, forever condemned to orbit the land at the other side of you, forever crossing paths but never meeting, always one step behind or hours ahead of schedule. There is, hypothetically, a way of telling if the person before you is your soulmate, but it only works if you have the fellow in front of you and the certainty only mad love can bring you.

In this world, in a world full of pain and pleasure, power and pride, the only way that you know for certain that you are connected with your soulmate are your injuries. They’ll show up on your soulmate’s skin, exactly at the same time and the same places as you receive them. They won’t feel the sensation of hurt as you do, and the bruises and cuts will fade as yours do, but in the minutes and hours in which you are bloody and damaged, they will be, too.

Scars last. That’s how most people know. When you see a childhood injury reflected on someone else’s knee or arm, you can tell it’s them. It’s as if a hook has been pulled through both of you, tying you together in a celebration of glitter and gore. It’s horrific, and it’s love, and no one has dared to mess with the process for the millennia in which soulmates have been around.

Least of all your soulmate. They marked you a long time ago, and although you weren’t there to see it happen, you can’t help but wonder at their rationale now. A scar curls around your left hand ring finger. It looks like a burn, and it must have been a serious one too, judging by the fact that it’s lasted this long. 

You can imagine your soulmate somewhere out there, forcing a white-hot band of metal around their finger and keeping it on despite the unendurable pain until they knew the scar would last forever. Imagine what that must mean to them, to you. There is a message that they’re trying to send to you, patterned in the syllables of their scorched flesh:  I love you to the point of agony, and past it. What a terrible sort of devotion for a soulmate. What a devastating burden of love for you to bear.

It makes you sick to your stomach, at times, and other days, it just makes you numb. Perhaps this is what you get, the Saints’ way of evening the scales. Everyone knows that the greed of a Grisha never goes unchecked, and maybe this is your diving retribution at last. You strove for too much too quickly, and now you have an excess of time in which you can ponder your failings, all alone for all eternity. It would make a sad sort of joke were it not at your expense.

After all, you should have died a long time ago, soulmate be damned. You started out life as a Heartrender, although you left the typical roles of that particular type of Corporalki behind long ago. At first, you merely shattered bone and spilt blood, but then you learned how to do more. Why kill one man when you can end dozens of lives with just as much force? Then, why kill when you can turn your attention towards yourself, healing not just surface wounds but deeper things, erasing the signs of age and wear until you were just as strong as you were at your prime?

Some would call it immortality. Others would curse it as witchcraft. You don’t need anyone’s misguided explanations anymore, though, your power will long outlive both them and their whisperings. It is power, plain and simple, and it is yours. You don’t just transmutate flesh and bone anymore, you shape life itself. Your life. Your life, extended forever, waiting for a soulmate who can keep up with you or die trying.

At times, you hate it, this prolonged life that you’ve given yourself. At the same time, the thought of dying without accomplishing all that you could is terrifying. The easiest thing to do is to keep living, keep drawing breath and wondering when things will change. If they don’t, well, at least you were here to see it. 

After all, have you ever been satisfied with your lot in life? You send a silent plea to any Saints up there, if they're still listening at all or merely content to keep pulling their strings and directing you down darker, rougher roads. Let me rest. Please. They send only one word back, after everything:  No.

So you continue your journey. Ravka needs your attention for a time, then you cross the True Sea to Kerch and Novyi Zem, and another century has passed by the time you think about returning to the eastern shores. The Shadow Fold makes things more difficult, certainly, but death is no enemy of yours, so you find ways of crossing, even if they take a while.

This time, you decide to cut through Fjerda on your various journeys. The wintry landscapes take your breath away, as they always do, but it’s a little difficult to marvel at the wonders of the country when they’re so fiercely dedicated to exterminating your fellow Grisha. You take it upon yourself to take out a few branches of the witch hunters, those treacherous drüskelle, and so you have a purpose for at least a little longer.

You get to take action upon this initiative while stopping in a small town close to the Fjerdan border for the night. While attempting to book a room in a local inn, you can’t help but pick up on the uncanny sensation of racing hearts somewhere closeby. You step away from the inn, distracted, and chase the sound of blood pounding through veins until it takes you into the surrounding woods.

There, you stumble upon what had been causing you such an uncanny sensation. A young woman, a Grisha Tidemaker by the looks of it, is attempting to evade capture by two upstart drüskelle captains. She hasn’t yet mastered her gift, and they’re well armed, so the situation is not good, to say the least.

Grisha are your people, even if you’ve become somehow separated from them by your many years. You fling out an arm and the two drüskelle go flying into the distance, clutching at their hearts as they burst in their chests. One more witch hunter materializes out of the gloom, but before he can fire off a round at you, a wave of shadow cuts off his breath and he falls to the ground, choking into stillness. The Tidemaker runs off the second the coast is clear, leaving you alone with this new stranger.

You turn around slowly, but the man emerging from the woods doesn’t seem to be a threat. He’s some kind of Etherealnik, but you’ve only heard of so many Shadow Summoners in your time. Perhaps there’s another one again.

“I came out to help,” he says, voice relaxed despite your hands raised at him in anticipation of a strike, “It appears that you didn’t need it, though.”

He doesn’t seem inclined to attack you, but you don’t trust the way he’s still hanging back in the shadows. You can’t see much of his face, nor his demeanor. “I’m no stranger to the drüskelle. They’ve always been the same sort of fools.”

“Always?” The stranger asks, allowing a note of humor to enter his words, “Have you been around long enough to judge them, then?”

You sigh. “Longer than you’d think.”

Instead of being put off by this, the stranger just grins, moonlight flashing on his teeth. “You’d be surprised what I think. I’m older than I seem.”

You look curiously at him. The man steps out of the shadows and into a patch of moonlight. Your breath catches in your throat. “No. That’s impossible.”

He’s not lying when he talks about being older than his appearance. You’ve seen this face before. Several times, if you’re not mistaken. A rebel against the Ravkan king a few centuries ago. A scholar of the Saints. A son trying to care for his mother. He’s been here whenever you passed through Ravka, but you never dared to assume that he could be anything but a familiar face passed down through the generations.

For some reason, on this night, you stop letting yourself doubt. This is a man who has been alive quite as long as you have, if not longer. Perhaps it’s the unearthly shine of the moonlight on the Fjerdan snow, transfiguring this scene into one of your memories, or perhaps it’s the fact that he’s taken his gloves off so he could summon his shadows, and you can see the imprint of a burn around the ring finger of his left hand.

No. It couldn’t be. After all this time, your soulmate cannot be the same young man you’ve crossed paths with half a dozen times before. What a cruel joke to play.

“Y/N?” He asks slowly, eyes as wide as yours.

You told him your name in one of your lives. He trusted you enough to say his back to you. “Aleksander?”

“Show me your hand,” he tells you, voice as steady as it’s always been.

When you hesitate, he crosses the clearing in a flash, standing in front of you. One of his hands curls around your wrist, holding it still, while the other holds up your fingers to the moonlight. He looks at the burn there, his burn, and at last, he smiles. It’s a proud look, almost vicious.

“You know,” he says slowly, “I always thought I’d marry you. I was a child then, and foolish, but I find I don’t mind the idea much anymore.”

He cocks his head to the side, staring openly at the scar he’d bound to both of you. You had wondered if you would fear your soulmate when you first met him, but instead, you just feel whole. A broken half has finally been reunited with its other part.

“Do you remember when we were both in Kribirsk together?” You ask slowly, haltingly, “I got a house right by the Unsea so I could study it. I think you were there for the same reason. We were the only two people in that whole town who weren’t afraid of it.”

He nods, eyes white with moonlight. “You fascinated me even then. When you left, I didn’t know how to live with myself. I started a whole new life just so the old one wouldn’t have to figure it out.”

You’d done the same thing. It took every bit of strength in you to go. You hadn’t wanted to leave the little house with the captivating man next door, but the other townspeople were starting to ask why you hadn’t aged since you’d shown up there decades ago, and the questions are only ever the start of your downfall. You’d cursed his name and yours in turn for the next few years until the heartbreak subsided.

“Before I left, though. We were alright.” You whisper.

He takes your other hand. “We’ll be alright again. It’s us now. Just us.”

“Just us,” you repeat, and for once, you let yourself believe it. You have it, your soulmate, him.

And at last, after centuries of wandering the land and sea alone, of second-guessing every shadow, of wondering what you did to deserve so much time by yourself without love, you realize that it has come to an end. All of it. There is no more solitude for you. Here by your side stands your soulmate. The long day has passed, and the rest of a quiet night shadows your threshold. It’s time to go home, so you think, but you’re already there.

requested by @cassiecrown, i hope you enjoy!

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy

[johnslittlespoon]

curtbuckbucky nightclub au .* :☆ﾟ. ☽

open for drabble/more pics! <3

alright, i've never done a proper 'intro' post for a fic/au i have in mind, but this one has been rotting in my brain for ages and i know there's no way i'm not gonna write something for it eventually so here goes, bear with me <3 made a lil edit (took me fucking hours to collect enough stock footage lmfao) to go along with it too >:)

a modern au where college student curt is a regular at a new–ish queer nightclub, showing up every friday night without fail to dance his heart out, his way of de–stressing at the end of every week and getting his pent up energy out. he's the prettiest little thing, dresses up so fun– some nights he throws on dresses or crop tops with skirts or short shorts when he's feeling it, other nights he goes for more of a relaxed baggy pants and flowy linen button up type of vibe– always with the same pair of scuffed up sneakers on for ease of dancing.

the bartenders and other regulars adore their bubbly little club bunny, always looking out for him, doting on him with free drinks and food. and even if some of them eye curt like he's dinner when he's out on the floor swaying his hips, eyes closed to fully lose himself in the music, the glitter on his eyelids and cheekbones catching the lights just right, curt's not there for any of that. he dances with people occasionally, he's confident and carefree and likes the attention and it makes him giggle when he catches newcomers staring, doesn't mind a wandering hand here and there, but he never goes home with anyone. the same routine, every friday, dancing until his dark waves are curling damp with sweat against his temples and his black eyeshadow is smudged and he leaves to make the walk back to the flat he shares with a few roomies.

enter john and gale, longterm boyfriends who sometimes like to go out clubbing and find someone pretty to bring home for a fun time, only an open relationship in that sense– they have no interest in actually dating other people, both adamant that it's no strings attached, too head over heels for each other to have eyes for anyone else anyway.

they decide to check out a club they haven't been to yet, usually sticking to the tried and true ones, but a couple of their friends recommend it, so they give it a go one friday night. they've barely sat down at the bar with their drinks when they see a boy who, john comments to gale, looks like the 'energizer bunny' (gets a snort out of curt when he tells him so in the future.) even once they're buzzed enough to head out onto the dance floor together, neither of them can take their eyes off of the bundle of energy, mesmerized.

they both know the other is equally enamoured with the boy, drinking up all the glitter and bouncy curls and blissed out smiles, already knowing they just have to have him– the prettiest thing they've ever seen. curt's confused when they approach him, because he's noticed them too, has been admiring from afar, but he's also noticed their hands and lips all over each other, dancing much too close and comfortably to not be a couple. but john purrs out "we just like to have a little fun every now and then sweetheart, don't you?"

and no, not really, he doesn't. usually a night of exhausting himself dancing is his idea of fun, not ever looking for anything else, not finding most guys worth his time. but john and gale sweet talk him just right, spend time actually getting to know him when he agrees to let them buy him a drink at the bar, and fuck, they're both the hottest things he's seen walk into the club in a long time, and they're giving him all their attention? he decides that maybe he'll be brave and flirt back. despite his confidence and lack of caring what other people think about him, he's so shy and easily flustered when someone he's actually into makes the moves on him, doesn't even know what to do with himself when he realizes he's blushing at their compliments and the combination of their heavy gazes on him.

obviously they all get each other worked up as the night goes on, and curt goes home with them and gets his world rocked, spoiled and pillow princess–ed and showered in praise, not at all what he expects hook–ups to be like after having only been with people he's been dating. he expects to walk back home after since they all live in the same vicinity of downtown, tries to ignore his wobbly legs when he finally crawls out of bed, gets dragged back down by gale for one last messy breathless makeout while john gets him an uber before curt can protest or offer to pay.

normally john and gale don't get the numbers of their one night stands, but they want to make sure he gets home safe, and they can both gauge how the other is feeling and they know they'll want to see him again if they're lucky enough for curt to say yes, so john puts his number into curt's phone and tells him "text when you're home safe, yeah? or, y'know, text whenever you want." and curt isn't sure if this is john saying they both want to see him again, because he's dense and shy and they made it clear beforehand that they're in a closed relationship, but next friday he texts to let them know he'll be at the club again, and john and gale tell him they'll be there, the three of them going home together for a second time that night, and they fall into a routine from then on.

curt gets giddy every friday, dolling himself up extra pretty for the two men, flushed at their attention every time and so thrilled to dress up for someone other than himself for once. he can already feel himself going all heart–eyes for them after the second or third time they hook up, but he knows where he stands, and he's having fun experimenting for the first time and having two experienced, sweet guys show him a good time every week, so he doesn't want to jeopardize that by getting his feelings involved.

little does he know that john and gale are falling head over heels too for this sweet energetic boy, loving how much he spices up their lives, both in the bedroom and out, realizing their flat feels so quiet now on the nights where they don't take curt home with them. so that leads to some serious conversations to see if they're on the same page about getting to know curt better, both of them learning how to navigate this new territory because neither of them expected to want to bring someone else into their world like this. they agree they'd like to take curt out on a cute date, during the daytime for once, to properly test the waters and see how curt feels– of course he slots into their lives perfectly, as if he's been there all along. <3

but along the way: lots of slow burn, miscommunication, endless filthy smut, curt trying to balance college and work and friends with his newfound feelings for john and gale, john and gale getting dragged to raves and festivals by their always adventurous bf, city night–life juxtaposed by early morning domesticity, etc etc.

this has been floating around in my head for a couple weeks since i got this vision of 2012–stalker–era barry with eyeshadow and glitter stuck in my brain and thus a whole universe/plot spawned from it. honestly would mostly be pwp, but would love to write a proper fic for it anyway eventually, each chapter littered with filth, obviously LOL. i have so many thoughts and so many little scenarios planned out in my head already... these three have me in a chokehold.

i need to make proper intro/drabble posts like these for my other aus too aghhh it just takes so longggg because i get carried away with the drabble and then i have to find the perfect clips for edits and the perfect pics to tie it all together and suddenly i've spent half a day on one post but. someday <3 leaving!bikeriders au next surely! thx for reading hope u enjoy this version of the boys and hopefully i'll have time to write it soon!

all posts about this au will be under #curtbuckbucky nightclub au :-)

[honey-minded-hivemind]

OH I really like the idea of reader with an animalistic mutation! It could be something monster/werewolf-like, or possibly a different animal like a BEAR or some kind of big cat.

They'd have to be scared out of their wits, not able to rely on their powers and their enhanced senses doing nothing to help them out of this mess, because the pain they're in is blinding. Besides that they're caught up in freaking out at how their alive, despite all the gore and the wounds they're too scared to look at, they aren't dead, which makes no sense, and they want explanations that no one can give them.

On related note, If the kids did manage to slip away, somehow hiding under the radar for a few days even, I picture some sort of emergency forcing them to seek better refuge or certain supplies, and that's when their parents would catch up with them.

Lamb Anon

Ooooooo, that's good, thats good! I'm liking these asks, 🐑 Anon! I myself am always partial to a animal/feral mutation for Reader. And to top this situation off for you, and for everyone else? Imagine if Reader actually IS the blood child or relative of one the adults platonic yans. Maybe Reader was a child they gave up who only later wander back into their lives, only to later be ripped away by what had happened. Perhaps Reader was a mystery child they knew nothing about until after the event, and the guilt eats at them for never knowing their kid really WAS their kid by blood, too. Either way, it would only add fuel to the already massive fire that is the train wreck the kids are in. On a separate note, yes, the kids are also handling their own trauma due to dying? or almost dying, only to end up back in a world that they can't explain the changes of, but it's going rather poorly, not to mention they now have this to add to their growing trauma. It shouldn't be different, right, they couldn't have been down for long, the >,">#÷,/ only just happened, it's been at best maybe a day since what was done-

It hasn't been a day. It's not even the same year.

And they have no explanation why.

On a separate separate note, if the teens did escape the first encounter with their older, more grim and harrowing friends and family... They know they aren't out of the blue, not even close. They're dealing with people who know what they know, every plan and preparation and procedure for what to do if something goes wrong, how to track people, how to survive, places that are safe-

It's endless, how much they're out of their depth. They weren't sure they'd planned for this. That this was even a possibility. Sure, sure, they'd made a few safety precautions incase one or two of the teams' members went off the deep end or was mind controlled or possessed. They had never accounted for everyone being turned against them. And while yes, the four of them have powers and know how to use them, their powers (except possibly Reader's) aren't offensive. One of them can run really fast, faster than light if they want; one of them can walk through walls, doors, floors, anything; one of them can teleport anywhere within reason and within a two mile radius; and one of them has something that isn't any of that. Except they're all wounded, hurting, and traumatized. Fast guy can't run, phaser can't phase, teleporter can't teleport, and even though they could possibly afford to use their powers once or twice before complete collapse... they can't do so without leaving the others behind. And they don't want to leave anyone behind. So all they can do is stick together and hold out until they can make a better move. If only they have enough time to do so...

[alister312]

Summary:

Craig's mad at Tweek and Kyle's mad at Stan. Spending Friday night moping around the school is pretty lame though, so Craig decides they should do something to rile their exes up.

this is an attack for @iksvolforb for the @spinthetags south park olympics! art is by @danilazuli and not included within the attack.

Read now on ao3 or below the cut!

It wasn’t uncommon for Craig and Tweek to be “on the outs” every other week. Usually it started with a small fight that they both pushed down, resolving to talk about it later like mature people, only to forget to do that between the pressures of school and (in Tweek’s case) work. This built and built until it burst and one of them couldn’t handle it anymore and they broke up. They never meant to; they were just teenagers. Not everyone could achieve the same emotional maturity Wendy and Tolkien seemingly effortlessly did.

This particular break up was really bugging Craig though because normally when they broke up, they got back within the month. The problem this time was that neither of them would admit that they were wrong. Craig thought it was pretty clear that Tweek should apologize for forgetting their goddamn anniversary, but Tweek was adamant that Craig should understand by now that he has a job with hours he can never predict because his dad fucking sucks. Tweek’s dad did suck, but it was their anniversary. That had to take priority (the work-skipping kind).

It didn’t, apparently, so the next month rolled around and Craig found himself still single. What was worse, Tweek wouldn’t even talk to him. Craig never liked to think of himself as the kind of guy who had to be in a relationship to function, but he was coming to realize that he couldn’t remember being out of one for this long before. Much of his life outside of school had happened around Tweek, or around where he worked. 

His life wasn’t all Tweek of course; there was Clyde. Clyde had started spending more time with Jimmy these days though and they had some long standing Friday night tradition checking out whatever local live show they could find in Denver. It was their thing, like how Craig’s used to be hanging out at Tweak Bros. with Kenny, waiting for Tweek. Kenny was more of a friend of a friend though, or friend of an ex now, so Craig was left with no one tonight.

Devoid of literally anything else to do and not wanting to just go home, Craig decided to wander the school. Aside from completely barren hallways, it wasn’t so different from normal school hours. Teachers sat in their classrooms hunched over papers, grading until they couldn’t take it anymore. A few students stuck around in odd nooks and crannies, mostly those who couldn’t find peace and quiet anywhere else. The goths were out back, basically permanent fixtures.

Craig’s wanderings eventually took him to the gym. He could hear the squeak of sneakers on rubber, so he opened the door. Inside was Kyle, practicing layups alone. He looked over at Craig in the doorway.

“Oh, hey.”

“Hey,” Craig replied. He chewed his bottom lip, teetering on the possibility of sticking around. He and Kyle were on… fine terms with each other. Not friends, not unfriendly. Staying wouldn’t be weird, but it might be awkward. Watching him practice would guarantee Craig an excuse for at least another hour though, so he stepped inside and over to the bleachers.

“Um,” Kyle said. “Did you… want to join in or—”

“No.” Craig waved his hand dismissively. “You keep… tossing that ball or whatever. I’ll just be here.”

“Okay…” Kyle frowned, dragging out the word. He sighed and shook his head, rolling his shoulders and going back to his layups. Craig sat down next to Kyle’s gym bag and took out his phone, mindlessly scrolling between apps. Occasionally he looked up at Kyle. Craig really didn’t know or care much about sports so he couldn’t say what made Kyle good, but he was clearly skilled. It was hard to make team captain if you sucked.

Kyle kept glancing over at Craig from time to time, curious about him. Craig hoped to avoid talking about it but when they accidentally made eye contact, he knew he couldn’t. Kyle was at least nice enough to wait half a minute before clearing his throat.

“So,” he said, “any reason you’re here and not… anywhere else?” Craig shrugged, keeping his eyes locked on his phone. Kyle let out an exasperated sigh. “I mean like, shouldn’t you be spending Friday night with, I don’t know, Tweek or something?”

“Shouldn’t you be spending it with Stan or something?” Craig said, as nastily as he could in his usual monotone. The clumsy clang of the basketball on the rim (as opposed to the quiet swish of the net he’d gotten used to) made Craig look up again. Kyle’s brows were knit together and he wore a deep scowl.

“Yeah. Well,” Kyle grumbled. Craig raised an eyebrow. Apparently he and Tweek weren’t the only ones fighting. 

His eyes shifted from Kyle down to his gym bag. It was decorated with the South Park Cows logo, some safety pins (probably Stan’s), and a rainbow ribbon tied to the main pocket’s zipper. Kyle had the proud title of the school’s first voluntarily out gay kid, so up-front, loud, and proud when he announced it. Craig had always secretly really appreciated him for it. Being the role model gay kid wasn’t something he was suited for. Kyle handled it much better.

“Hey.” Craig looked back over at Kyle, feeling the kind of stupidly impulsive that came from two months apart from your longtime boyfriend. “Do you wanna go out?” A resounding thud sounded from the backboard as Kyle missed again. He’d whipped his head to stare at Craig so fast his hair smacked him in his face. Kyle swore as he pushed it back, then frowned at Craig.

“What the hell did you just say?”

“Do you wanna go out,” Craig repeated. “You’re gay, I’m gay, both of us are mad at our exes—”

“I’m not mad at Stan,” Kyle said.

“You’re not fooling anyone, Broflovski.”

“Ok asshole, even if I was, why would that mean I’d go out with you?”

“To piss Stan off like he pissed you off,” Craig said. “Look, it doesn’t have to be a real date. We get out of here, go to Tweak Bros. so Tweek can see me with you and then you can post a picture of us so Stan will see you with me.”

“That’s a shit plan, Craig.”

“Ok, well, you have nothing better to do, so…” Craig shrugged. Kyle glared at him, but he also glared down at the floor, thinking. After a few moments of muttering, he threw his hands up in the air.

“Why not,” Kyle said. “You’re paying for my coffee and anything else though.” He crossed the gym floor and picked up his bag. “I gotta shower and change. I’ll meet you outside.” Though fearing for his wallet, Craig smiled a little as he watched Kyle leave. If nothing else, this had to at least get Tweek talking to him again.

***

Only fifteen minutes later, Craig found himself sitting in the passenger seat of Kyle’s car. That was another thing he’d always secretly appreciated about Kyle– his promptness. He also cleaned up nicely, his hair freshly spritzed with something that made it soft and got rid of any evidence of sweat. They both had on a similar outfit of pants, a shirt, and a jacket but Kyle’s pants were chinos (not jeans) and his jacket not as old as Craig’s. Even though it wasn’t a real date, Craig felt bad that he was underdressed in comparison. He took off his hat and combed his fingers through his hair on the ride over. A little more effort than he usually put in. It would do.

“Ah shit,” Kyle muttered when they pulled in. Craig followed his gaze to Kenny’s car parked nearby.

“You know he and Tweek are, like, super close, right?” Craig said.

“Yeah, I know,” Kyle sighed. “That doesn’t mean I knew he’d be here. If Kenny sees us together, he’s gonna bug me about it all weekend.”

“We can tell him to fuck off then,” Craig said, knowing full well that he’d probably also get Kenny hounding him about this “date” and equally not looking forward to it. “It’s none of his business.”

“I doubt he’ll listen but… we’ll see,” Kyle said, smiling tiredly. He turned the car off and got out with Craig following.

Tweak Bros. always smelled like home to Craig. Coffee was way too bitter in terms of taste but the smell was so comforting, like a sigh at the end of a long day. It wrapped around them, a warm and welcoming escape from the Colorado night as they stepped inside. Craig could smell that Tweek had recently taken out a fresh batch of scones too, cinnamon chip ones.

He was there behind the counter– Tweek. His head perked up at the chime of the bell as the door opened, an instinctive customer-service smile halfway on his face.

“Hi, I’ll be with you in a mo—” Tweek froze, realizing who they were. Craig did his best to appear completely unaffected, walking up to the cash register. Behind him, Kyle hesitated for a moment, but he joined Craig and stared at the menu hanging above them. He squinted at it, looking oddly confused.

“You good?” Craig asked. “You can read it, right?”

“Of course I can,” Kyle snapped at him, too quickly, which meant he couldn’t. The print was pretty small and Craig remembered then that Kyle needed glasses. He’d assumed that he never wore them because he opted for contacts instead, but maybe he just straight up never saw well. Craig took out his phone and pulled up the Google doc of the menu. Years ago, Tweek had entrusted it to him to help him study and memorize it.

“Here,” Craig said, giving it to Kyle.

“Oh,” Kyle said, surprised. “Thanks Craig.” He looked through it while Craig waited. He always got the same thing so he was ready, but Tweek was doing literally anything but coming to take their orders. There were only so many imaginary spots he could clean though and people started lining up behind Craig and Kyle, so he eventually gritted his teeth and walked over.

“Welcome to Tweak Bros., what can I get for you?” Tweek said in the most forced polite tone Craig had ever heard from him. It genuinely upset him a bit, but if he got upset then Tweek won, so he just blinked slowly instead.

“Small chai tea,” Craig said, then turned to Kyle. “Babe, what do you want?” The coffeeshop air was suddenly no longer warm, but thick with an icy intenseness as both Kyle and Tweek froze at that statement. Kyle’s finger hovered over the phone screen and Craig could see the gears turning in his head. He tensed, just slightly, bracing himself for just in case Kyle decided to slap him for his boldness. Thankfully, Tweek’s palpable rage kept him from also noticing any of this.

“Just one sec,” Kyle said, apparently deciding to roll with Craig. “Uh, I’ll have a latte. Hot, grande size, with oat milk instead of the regular dairy. Three pumps of vanilla syrup, plus an extra shot of espresso, and no foam. Oh, and one of those brownies in the case. No, two actually. And that, uh, turkey wrap thing. Warmed up.”

Kyle patted Craig’s arm and smiled, promising to find them a table as he walked away, but there was a bit of smugness to it. A satisfaction that he’d managed to craft the perfect frustrating and expensive order and left Craig to deal with the consequences of it all. And people thought Craig was an asshole.

“Jesus, what even is that order?” Tweek grumbled, scribbling away at a cup. “Does he know this isn’t– nngh– fucking Starbucks?”

“I’ve seen you make that kind of thing before though,” Craig said.

“Shut up,” Tweek said. “That’ll be $25 dollars and I’m not putting it on a tab.”

***

A few minutes later and $30 dollars poorer (he tipped, of course, even though Tweek told him that wouldn’t change anything), Craig made his way to the table where Kyle was doing his best to avoid eye contact with Kenny, who was standing over him. He turned his attention to Craig.

“Ok, Craig, what the hell?” Kenny said.

“What do you mean?” Craig sat down at the table.

“This,” Kenny gestured back and forth between Craig and Kyle. “What the hell is going on here? I know both of you are going through respective rough patches right now, but being petty isn’t going to fix that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just on a normal first date.”

“You’re a damn liar, Craig. I’m not stupid. I can’t believe you dragged another person into your problems. And Kyle, c’mon, you’re above this. You have to know this is a bad idea.”

“Oh fuck off, Kenny,” Kyle said, now glaring up at him. “Craig asked me out and I said yes because I wanted to go out with him. That’s all there is to it.” He reached across the table and defiantly took Craig’s hand, interlacing their fingers. Craig blushed. Sure he’d initiated the whole date idea and called Kyle “babe” but he hadn’t expected Kyle to so adamantly defend him. It was nice though.

Kyle’s fieriness was honestly pretty attractive. He sat up straighter and jutted his chin out a bit, his cheeks tinted pink with annoyance. He wasn’t jacked or anything, actually fairly slender, but he had some definite muscle tone and his eyes burned a deep green, challenging anyone to cross him. Honestly, Craig realized, Kyle reminded him a lot of Tweek. He was like if Tweek had a steadier head on his shoulders, which was one of the things Craig had often guiltily wished for.

Maybe, subconsciously, he’d known that and that was why he chose Kyle for this.

“Yeah,” Craig smiled. “Fuck off, Kenny.” He flipped off Kenny, who rolled his eyes and held his hands up, walking away. Kyle sighed.

“God,” he muttered, reaching for his drink and the food. “I love Kenny but I hate when he treats me like I don't know what I’m doing. I’m not a kid.”

“Maybe it’s because you ordered two brownies for dinner?” Craig asked.

“So?” Kyle scoffed. “I was working out when you saw me, remember? I’m hungry.”

“Yeah,” Craig said. “The brownies here kind of suck though. They’re dry.

“Ugh, now you tell me. I hate dry brownies.”

“Same.” Craig took a sip of his drink. “What else pisses you off?” Kyle seemed thrown by the question, but slowly he started opening up. 

Neither of them were angry people exactly, but they did both have a lot of things that irked them. Craig usually didn’t bring it up because happy-go-lucky Clyde couldn’t sympathize and paranoid Tweek often thought Craig was secretly talking about him. It was a relief to not have to cage himself. Kvetching, Kyle called it. It was one of his favorite destressors. Even though Kyle’s kvetching lost its fieriness as the night went on, Craig thought the smiles he switched to were just as attractive.

Last call for orders seemed to come too soon, even if they had actually been there for hours. Besides Kenny and of course Tweek, only they and some guy typing away at his laptop were left.

“We should go,” Craig said.

“Don’t you want to stay til closing though?” Kyle frowned. “To talk to Tweek?”

“We’ll do that tomorrow,” Craig shrugged. “So we can head out after you have your picture.”

“Oh yeah,” Kyle murmured. “I forgot about that.” He took out his phone and scooted closer to Craig, leaning back and tilting his head so it was just shy of resting on Craig’s shoulder. The idea of it was there, though, that he might do that. Craig too gave the subtle hint of closeness without actually going for it, his face tilted just so that, any moment, he just might nuzzle Kyle’s hair. It was tempting.

In a second the photo was over and Kyle was no longer inches away. Craig watched him post it with the caption “Had a good time tonight 💙”. It was clear, but subtle. Craig liked it. As they exited, Kyle’s phone started ringing. The name on the screen read “Stan”.

“Wow,” Craig said.

“God, that was fast,” Kyle muttered. He stared at the name as it kept ringing. Again those gears were turning in his head and Craig wondered what exactly was going through his head this time. Kyle let it ring all the way to the end and the screen informed he had one missed call from Stan. As it started up again, Kyle hung up on purpose and stuck his phone in his pocket.

“Hey, do you think there’s a lot of people at Stark’s Pond right there?” he asked Craig.

“Probably,” Craig said. “I know a spot near it that's kind of hidden though. I stargaze there.”

“Wanna go?” Kyle smiled. Through the window, Craig caught Tweek’s gaze. All the malice that had been it all evening was gone and it was soft, confused. They would talk tomorrow. About what, Craig wasn’t entirely sure. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to come out of the conversation.

For now, he nodded to Kyle and walked back to his car with him. Kyle switched his phone to vibrate before pulling out. Craig had a strong suspicion that he was putting off his own conversation, but he didn’t care. Stark’s Pond was waiting for them.

[ya-zz]

It just popped in my head but can you do a ramattra fic? male reader, where it’s winter time and it’s super cold so the reader is shivering and ramattra warms him up somehow with his robotic ways lol, just a whole bunch of fluff, your writing is so good thank you!!

I started this a few weeks ago and just got around to finishing it now, just in time for the cold to come in... If only we had a certain omnic to keep us warm throughout these colder months...

Ramattra x Reader

Word count: 1102

Winter in Nepal is such a marvellous sight; one that many people come to visit each year, especially when the winter markets and festivals are in motion each weekend. Each stall held it’s own vendor from the village, known faces that regulars and newcomers greet with a smile. From various stalls holding a selection of goods from bakes to jewellery, pottery and tea, there was something for almost everyone. 

The festivals were just as exciting, even more so when the snow was falling and the soft lights made the village streets much more ambient. However, the winter wind made it that much colder. Even if you’re wrapped up warm, the wind cut like knives against your skin. Icy particles attacking any bare skin it could find and if your clothing is too thin, it feels wet and sticks to your body until you have to go home and peel it off. 

That was no deterrent for you and your friend though. The pair of you wandered the village streets. It was a comforting moment, being in the presence of the one you held close to you, someone who made sure that you were healthy and safe. He’d protect you when you needed it most and he would always be there for you when you desperately needed a shoulder to cry on. 

Your friend felt the same way about you. Knowing he had you by his side. A human he was glad to call his friend. Someone he was willing to protect no matter the cost. 

“Ramattra?” You voice broke him out of the trance he was in. 

“Yes?” He responds back, head tilting down to look at you. 

“Are you okay? You seem distant.” 

“My apologies, [y/n].” He chuckles before turning his head back forward. “Was there something you asked of me?” 

“Yeah…” You walk by his side. “Do you ever feel cold?” 

“Cold?” He takes a moment to think. “Yes. Although not to the extremities you humans do.”

You hum in response.

“Are you cold?” The omnic asks. 

“What? No.” You lie, and he knew it too. Your body was shivering and your voice wavers ever so slightly you pray he wouldn’t notice. 

Ramattra nods once, entering his systems to see what it is that humans do to keep others warm. He’s searching for a few moments before clearing his HUD and continuing his walk with you throughout the market. 

He watches as your body temperature slowly drops, not to an alarming level, he wouldn’t let it get that far, but Ramattra was waiting to see how long you would plan on suffering like you are now. 

It was strange for the omnic, watching out for a human. He had never felt so… inclined to protect you. He’s seen the way some humans back away from him, cower in fear, but you… by god, you were something else. You never once disliked him, wanting to only make friends. He disapproved at first, he always does when someone new, someone human, comes across his path. 

You were something special, someone special, to the omnic. He made sure you were eating well, that you had enough sleep each night and that you were okay regardless of what was happening in your life, but he was only a friend… He wanted more. He had never felt this way before, especially not towards a human. 

Ramattra keeps a close optic on you all throughout the evening, and when the temperature drops significantly, he watches you even closer. The lack of a scarf or hat made Ramattra worry about you. Your ears were red, nose too and your cheeks were flushed. It wouldn’t be long now until you were asking to go home to get warm, but he saw the sparkle in your eyes, the way your face lit up when the streets bustled with life. Lights turned on, vendors were rowdy and the smell of food wafted through the streets. 

Being with Ramattra meant everything to you. For once, you had found someone who truly cares about you, and not because he was designed to kill, to protect, but because he welcomed you into his life. Ramattra was so careful around you it made your heart flutter each time he did something to or for you.

So, when the warmth of his cowl was placed around your shoulders, hood being pulled up to cover those icy ears, your heart nearly stopped. 

“Ramattra?” You look up at him, eyes slightly wider than usual.

“You are cold. I do not want you to freeze or else our evening will be ruined.” He states, not looking towards you. 

You smile softly, hands coming up and under the cloth. “It’s so warm.”

Ramattra hummed, knowing that it was. He heated his own body up, not to an alarming level, but just enough to heat up his cowl and give it to you. 

“Are your hands cold too?” He asks, looking down at you. 

You shake your head, but you knew your fingers were almost frozen stiff. 

The omnic silently sighs, adjusting some settings in his HUD before he reaches for your hand. His fingers interlock with yours and there was a heat radiating from his palm.

The notion startles you, but you keep the expression hidden behind the hood. There was a soft smile on your face as you squeeze his hand a little. 

“Thank you…” 

Ramattra glances down at you and sees the heat returning to your face and your body. 

“You are flushed. Is everything okay?” He stops moving, turning to fully face you despite other people walking on either side. 

“I- I am fine.” Though you stay hidden. 

“Look at me, [y/n].” His other hand comes up instinctively to turn your face towards him. He feels the warmth within his palm, thumb rubbing a soft circle on the flesh. 

“R-Ramattra…” 

The omnic stills for a moment before retracting his hand and letting go of your other one. “My apologies.” He had never felt embarrassed, but he could feel himself heating up. 

He starts walking again, although you wait a moment, seemingly in a daze at what just happened. Did he… What… No…

It took you a few quick strides to catch back up to him, and when you do, you lace your fingers with his, palms touching once more. 

“Don’t leave…” You say, voice quite and muffled behind his cowl. 

Ramattra looks down at you, a million different signals being sent though his wires. He feels his own body warm up, and he sees that yours has heated up tenfold.

“I will never leave.”

[rowretro]

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

WARNINGS: Hardcore Drug usage, underage drinking/smoking, 

✧CHAPTER 2✧

Another Monday morning at school. Just another normal day of small groups of giggly girls gossipping about last night’s latest drama, some even hanging their head low in shame of whatever rendezvous or embarrassing dare they had gone with at the Rave. Many were hung over and tired. For Y/n, she was high. People find it hard to tell whether the girl’s sober or not as she knows how to put up an act.

Last night’s events were a blur to her, she slumped in her seat, near the back corner where she always is.  As she brought a flask of whiskey to her mouth, more students walked in, going to their designated seats, completely shielding her from the teacher’s view. Riki slipped beside her, glancing at her as she sipped on her whiskey. “Pretty boy who knows where I live-” the girl said as her eyes met his. Riki scoffed, opening his book “Don’t think that you're special, junkie. I only picked you up because your brother asked me to.” Riki coldly said, as he scribbled down some words in his notebook. 

The girl shrugged, going about her business as Riki continued scribbling in his book, glancing at the board every now and then, as the teacher went about her lecture. All the while, y/n was busy sketching some little doodles in the margin of her book as she took a few, necessary notes. Riki found his eyes wandering along the margins of her books. The pretty sketches, messy but artistic. 2 hours had passed and break time finally came. The girl didn’t waste any time, taking a few things from her bag secretively and slipping them into her bra as she left the classroom. She left her bag behind, as they were going to be stuck in the same class for a whole year, due to some issues that had sparked in school restrooms and hallways. 

The girl went outside, where many people sat at tables eating with friends or chatting about the most random shit ever. The girl cautiously, went a little more further, arriving at a restricted area that led to an abandoned park. Now she was out of no one’s sight, not even a camera in view, she lit up one of her joints, inhaling the smoke, letting it hit her throat, as she exhaled shortly after. “We haven’t even made it until lunch and here you are already smoking.” A voice called as y/n darkly stared at the male, smoke leaving her mouth “You’re one to talk Yang.“ The girl narrowed her eyes at the boy who rolled his eyes. Y/n’s best friend. Jungwon.

The boy wasn’t a fan of her constant smoking, but who was he to tell her what to do?  “Want a puff?” she asked as Jungwon blinked at her, his eyes flickered from her to the joint back to her again. “No not now we’re in school.” The male pointed out. The two turned to the gate, cautious as they heard the sound of two males snickering and walking their way. The barbed gate opened revealing none other than Kim Sunoo and his dear friend Riki. “Fuck- I thought we were going to get caught for a second-” Jungwon sighed “Meet Riki, the abroad friend I was talking about, the one I met online-” Sunoo said as Jungwon nodded. 

“Does Heeseung know you do the junk in school hours  as well?” Sunoo asks, as y/n shrugs “Why does he need to know” the girl mumbled, peacefully smoking as Sunoo rolled his eyes, pulled out a cigarette “Want one?” he asked as Riki shook his head “We have to had back in 5 so-” the boy said as Sunoo put it away. y/n finished her joint, putting it out, throwing it into a puddle, she hopped off the slightly damaged rock wall, touching up her make up and spraying herself in Jungwon’s spray. “Why mineeee” he whined. “Men’s spray smells better, plus it helps better with the smell.” She reasoned, sticking a cherry lollipop in his mouth, and opening one for herself, as she handed Sunoo 2. “For your racer friend too.” She simply said, Jungwon dragged her away. 

As the boys went to their own classes, y/n and Riki walked back to theirs. The 2 shared a good distance where the awkward silence filled in. However that silence was long gone when y/n went back to her seat. Then came some squealy girls, fangirling over how one of them managed to hook up with Heeseung. Disgusted, y/n covered her ears, her head hitting the table as she pretended to sleep. 

Riki rolled his eyes at the noise, softly nudging y/n “What?” she asked, a twinge of annoyance in her tone. “You want to do coke after school?” the boy asked out of nowhere. Did she care? No, free cocaine “Sure where?” she asked, "At my place duh, it’ll just be us though, the others are against anything beyond weed.” The boy said as the girl nodded. “He was so easy, you should have seen his face!” the girl said, a little loud, as y/n rolled her eyes. “so fucking stupid” Riki mumbled, clearly annoyed. It’s obvious. If anything, Hee was playing with her, she was nowhere near his type.

The school day went by ever so slowly. The slow hours were dreadful, but it would soon be forgotten. Hearing the bell ring, everyone jumped from their seats, rushing to leave the building, not even letting the poor teacher finish her sentence. Y/n walked to a shop, only to be yanked by her wrist. SHe frowned, her eyes landing on Riki “Aren’t you going to hang out with me?” the male asked as y/n frowned, confused as to why he’d want to get high with her of all people. “Yeah I’m just getting some drinks…” the girl trailed off, pointing at a corner store. 

Being the daughter of a pretty respectable Celebrity like her father, y/n got away with many things. Like buying alcohol despite being a minor. She left the shop with her school bag stuffed with bottles, and even some in her shopping bag. “I got the snacks brother- lets go.” She randomly blurted. Riki frowned as she dragged her to his car. “The paparazzi were recording us, I saw two of them in the bushes…” she mumbled as they got in the car. 

✧𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓✧

[donniesbabygirl28]

can you please do a dallas winston angst where reader is going through a depressive ep? and they aren't in a relationship but they also aren't friends (like a romantic connection type thing)

OOO I LOVE THIS! Also if any of you are going through a state of depression, I want you to know that it will be okay. Just keep trying and you will eventually get to wherever you wanna go! <3 Also I'm gonna make this like a depressive ep bc she's sick of Dallas not making up his mind about if he wants to be with her or not. Hope that's okay :).

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

❝ And what I really meant to say is I'm sorry for the way I am. ❞ (also the song is "Cold- Crossfade" <3)❝ Cause I'm pretty when I cry. ❞ (Song- pretty when I cry -Lana del ray.)

Dallas wandered around town, seeing you at the diner so he thought he'd come see you.

Big mistake.

All the flirty and playful banter that you two used to share wasn't there when he flashed you a smile and you had yet to wipe your tears.

"Hey Y/n. Whatcha doin' all by yourself?" He said, his accent already making you sick to your stomach.

You loved his accent. But today you didn't wanna see him.

You didn't wanna hear him.

"Trying to get away from people. So if you'd be my little helper and go away." You said, looking out the window of the diner.

He stayed quiet for a bit, trying to search for reasons why you could be acting like this.

"You gonna keep staring? You heard what I said. Get lost." You snapped, pushing him out the booth seat.

He was kinda shocked, pony and Johnny stood in the background, wondering why their best friend was acting so mean.

"You okay y/n? I don't mean to stick around after you told Dallas not to. But I'm a bit worried." Johnny spoke softly to you.

You looked at him plainly before rummaging through your purse.

"I'm alright Johnny. Just- here." You hand him and Ponyboy a few dollars, telling them to go get a snack from the counter.

They didn't wanna walk away, but they knew it was better to leave you alone so you didn't get upset again.

Dallas watch as you avoided his stare.

"Doll-"

"Don't call me that, Dal." You say as you play around with your French fries.

He looked at you with confusion.

"I've been calling you that since we met, whats up with you?" He says, anger obvious in his voice, now getting fed up with your cold shoulder.

"Dallas. I don't mean to sound like a bitch but I don't really give a damn. You come in and sweep me off my feet but then when theres a time where we should be together, you brush me off like some dirt. Make up your mind, Dal." you said as your old tears began to be replaced with new ones.

He looked at you, and you couldn't tell if he was angry. He tried to keep you calm, in fear of other people seeing the scene the two of you are causing.

"Doll I do love you-"

"Do you though?"

He banged his fist on the table, making you jump slightly. He noticed and wrapped his arm around you, not wanting to come off to harsh.

"Yes. I do love you and you know I do. But are you sure you wanna be with me? I'm not boyfriend material and you know that."

You rolled your eyes, a smile threatening to shine through.

"Im sure dal." You hugged him tightly, in hopes of him wanting the same thing.

He kissed your forehead softly, before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the booth.

You looked up at him confused as he wiped away your recent tears with a smile on his face.

"Lets go the the drive in tonight, yeah?" He said, twirling your hair.

You were deeply in love with him. And you didn't care anymore if this was another sick trick. You would fall for it over and over just for him.

[onlyhereforthestories]

Mi Ángel De Nieve (Ona Batlle x Reader)

Day 5! We love Ona here so enjoy this

Winter in Manchester was very different to what you were used to, this was your first year experiencing it and snow wasn’t something you were expecting. You had joined Manchester United from Barcelona this summer, finally joining the love of your life in the English city. Ona had been trying to get you to transfer for a couple years now but you had dedicated your life to Barca and wasn’t going to move until they no longer wanted you. That happened this summer with you and a few of the other longer term players like your best friend Leila leaving for new opportunities.

The fact that Leila had moved to the same city was perfect, it was the first time ever that you had your favourite people, your chosen family all in one place. You had played your final game of the calendar year on Saturday against none other than Manchester City, you and Leila facing off for the first time in your careers. The points had been shared and you and the rest of the Spanish girls had gone out for a dinner to celebrate.

You and Ona were wandering back from the restaurant hand in hand when you felt the first cold spot land on you. Looking up at the sky you were shocked to see the small white dots slowly floating down. Snow wasn’t something you ever got to see growing up in north Spain, the temperatures never dropped low enough for the weather to occur so you momentarily paused to take it in.

“What’s up amor?” The small tug at your hand helped focus your attention on the younger woman, her curious gaze staring back at you.

“You’ve been in this country too long. It’s snowing. I don’t see snow.” The realisation that crossed Ona’s face was comical, you laughed at the expression before placing a kiss to her cheek. “Its cold can we go home please.” Ona didn’t hesitate in pulling you along the path as the snow got heavier and heavier, small white specks sticking to the both of you as you got closer to the warmth of home.

Pulling your slightly damp coats off, you and Ona were both relieved to be inside the dry and warm appartment. One was quick to put on the fairy lights strung around the living room in honour of the festive season and you made your way into the kitchen to make each of you a hot chocolate.

By the time you had got the drinks ready and wandered back into the living room Ona had already got changed into comfy clothes and snuggled herself under a fluffy blanket. “What you putting on bebé?” You spoke as you put the hot beverages on the coffee table and as Ona replied you leaned on the arm so you could hover your face over hers.

“I was thinking home alone marathon? You’ve not watch them right?” The glint in her eyes as she spoke about the Christmas films had your insides lighting up. Leaning down that little bit more you pressed a series of kisses to her forehead and cheeks before pulling back.

As the younger woman pouted at you you walked backwards towards your shared bedroom. “Okay load it up I’m just going to get changed.” You turned with a wink in her direction and hurried off to get sweats and a hoodie on.

Walking back in you laughed at the pout still residing on the woman’s face. Pushing her forward and slipping under the blanket with her now in front of you, you pressed a few kisses to her neck which only made her grumble.

“Hey bebé?” When she turned towards you, you didn’t hesitate in capturing her lips in a sweet kiss. One that had the both of you smiling into pretty much as soon as it happened.

“Okay better. Now we can watch the films.” Giggling at the Manchester player you pulled her as close as you could get her and settled in for a night of films.

A few days after this and the snow was here to stay. Another layer had settled overnight and you were even more excited to see it today when you woke up. There was no training and no other responsibilities to be done so you had asked Ona if you could spend the day doing all the things you do with snow.

The days started with breakfast and coffee, the latter essential for Ona to function for the rest of the day. Then you got your winter clothes out of your wardrobe, clothes that until this year were only used to ski in. Making sure all the bits that needed to be tucked in were indeed tucked you trudged out into the complexes garden.

The floor was littered with tiny animal prints from the foxes, cats and maybe even squirrels making their way around. The trees had a perfect amount of snow on them to make them perfect to gaze upon and the sun was slightly shining through so the air wasn’t so cold.

Ona had requested the first thing you do was build a snowman so you had both set about rolling balls in the snow and by the end of it you had a small half body height snow man with little pebble features.

Deciding he was Instagram worthy, you pulled Ona into a three person, well two person and a snowman, selfie and posted it to your stories. Leila's instant reply complaining of being left out had you rolling your eyes. After texting her to come join if she was that fussed you laughed at the instant no you received. The woman screamed hot weather lady and you weren’t the least bit surprised she was not going out.

Just as you put your phone in your pocket you felt the cold snow hit your neck. The shriek you let out would be embarrassing if anyone other than your love heard you. Speaking of said love you turned in the direction the snow came from and was gobsmacked to find Ona doubled over trying to stop her laughter with a hand over her mouth.

“Oh it’s on.” You threw a snowball that she managed to dodge and for the next few minutes you and the brown haired woman ran and threw and giggled in your own little world.

You had just about had enough of the small nimble woman dodging everything so you used the only thing you had over her. Speed. You ran right at her when she was least expecting it and gently tackled her into the snow.

After flopping next to her laughing at the shocked face she had on you took her hand and stared at the sky. “It’s so peaceful. There’s something so pure about snow that it makes you want to lay in it until your body goes numb because of the cold.”

Ona just listened to you speak. She would never tire of listening to your soft inner thoughts. After a period of quiet you stood up only to look down at her, eyes closed and smile of her face Ona started moving her arms and legs. You stepped back to give her some room and pulled out your phone to video what she was up to. After a few moments you stopped just before she did and subsequently stood up.

You took a quick photo of her looking down at her work just at the right time. Her shadow from the setting sun was perfectly in the place her body had just been. The angel wings she created spreading out from her shadows body.

You captioned the photo ‘I always knew she had the soul of an angel. Here’s your proof.’

Ona wouldn’t see that photo till after you had drifted off behind her on the sofa later that evening and the new nickname of mi ángel you had developed tonight all made sense.

[the-6th-harbringer]

PLEASE READ

Hey. So. It's been a. while.

trigger warning: referenced suicide

So, if you haven't noticed, I literally evaporated for two weeks straight without any clarification on why or sign of actually being alive, unlike my last two week disappearance. Unfortunately, this unexpected evaporation does not come with a big "ooh more trauma more lore and angst for scara" thing.

This just happens to be my goodbye post.

I know, it's weird and kind of rude for me to dip for two weeks and then reappear like "hey fuckers im QUITTING hAHaA". Buuuut not only was my dad being annoying and hogging my laptop, I also barely have had time to myself for the past weeks. New family members have been introduced into my life, so now I have double the amount of little siblings to look after. (from 3 to 6. dont ask "how" thats a personal thing). juggling that with school, social stuff, fucking exams which are coming up in 3 months of my gOD, and other even more personal demons that I've been battling, its been. a lot.

SO, to make sure I do not pull the same move as Scaramouche did on the last day of his sakurarealm torture(iykyk), I'm taking a leave from tumblr. Don't know how long I'll be gone, don't know if I'll ever be back, but I didn't just wanna quit without at least telling you guys so you don't think I've been murdered or something.

On a more serious note, thank you all for all of the support and love you've given Scara and all my other blogs. While some of you are a handful, the majority of you are actually the sweetest and silliest community of people I've ever known. I hope you all have excellent lives.

Now, as for what happens to Scara, we're shoving him in another coma. which is entirely at the mercy of Wanderer's mod, because they're my friend outside of tumblr too and i trust that they'll use this as a major angst moment. Put an F for Cyrille and Scara guys

NOW: a few honorable mentions and thank yous:

@wandering-hat-guy : im not writing a goodbye type thing for you because i will literally talk to you tomorrow, but thank you for being an awesome brother-sibling figure. you are the wanderer to my scara :]

@an-active-rabbit : Thank you for being an extremely fun person to rp with. The puppets and the heart is a rp that wont leave my mind for a while yet. Many hugs for you! And I wont be forgetting Mikaven anytime soon >:3

@cyrille-leclair-de-fontaine : AUGH budddyyy im sorry to do this to you. But thank you for creating Cyrille in the first place. Cyscara my beloveds, they will always hold a place in my heart. Maybe one day they'll actually get somewhere. Im also willing to be your friend outside of tumblr if you wish because you're cool >:D

@dishonxsty : For also being a goofy little goober. My favorite rp with you was definitely the ouppy's and scara, and also kudos to you for making like 17 bajillion blogs and being able to manage them all at once somehow like???? go king go

Annnd @monsieur-neuvillette , who seems random because I havent rped with them in literally a century, but thank you for being the one to indirectly help me get over my fears of starting a rp blog AND being the inspo for me to start rping on tumblr in the first place. hugs for you too

Well, alls said that's been said, so I think I'll just end it off here, because it's been like 10 minutes since I started typing this and I am eepy.

Goodbye everyone except wandermod, and thank you for sticking with me through Scara's really out of pocket journey.

(PS: Rest in peace @the-tainted-blossom . I miss you everyday.)

[slocumjoe]

PLeaLSE gage headcanons LITERALLY ANYTHING fluffy I BEG

*cracks knuckles*

Separated into normal, shippy, and miserable. Everything nasty is below the big red banner.

Will whistle at songbirds when he sees them, if its safe to do so/won't attract anything. Knows a lot of different calls/songs. One of the few times a random person will see him genuinely smile, is when he gets a back-and-forth with the little things.

Have said before, but enjoys whittling. Crotchety asshole, but he did it to make toys for his younger siblings (of which he had a lot) and friends. If a kid wanders up while he's doing it, curious, will offer to teach them how and gives them whatever it becomes. He doesn't need it, it's just wood. But it seems a waste to just chuck all that work in a bush or whatever.

Knows how to be helpful in a kitchen/campfire/general cooking affairs. Also said this before, was a mama's boy, and always helped her around the house. Very good knifework. Has a habit of going 'behind' whenever he's...well, behind someone while cooking. Their kitchen was small and god forbid you bump into Ma and she spills something.

Knows a lot about creepy-crawlies. Dislikes your standard wasteland bugs, but spiders, bees, ants, stick bugs, etc, from the Old World? Like snakes, very into them. Would be the type to approach arachnaphobes with his hands closed, telling them to guess what he had. It would be nothing. But you wouldn't know that from his grin.

Related, good with animals. He was raised on a farm, after all. Likes most of them. Out of all of the other companions, Dogmeat is the one he likes the most.

Also have said before, but will keep an eye on a buddy/associate/whatever if they're drunk. Like, Gage won't let you walk off with a stranger while you're pissed. And he certainly won't let a stranger walk off with you, if you catch my drift. He hates alcohol and alcohol drinkers, but fuck, he doesn't want that kind of shit happening. It's a remenent of being the eldest child, gotta look out for everyone even if they're pissing you off.

shippy stuff

Extremely physical, but reserved. Won't initiate anything, not even to hold hands. Rarely acts like he needs/enjoys it. It takes time for Gage to be open like that, visibly affectionate. Once he is, though, clingy. Cuddle-every-night kind of guy, doesn't understand why you'd sleep in the same bed if not touching.

Cat-like. Will kinda...nuzzle, bump their foreheads together, lean his head on theirs, etc. If this is brought up he will stop doing it forever.

Will fall asleep if given a massage. Gage would let someone touch him like that only if he trusts them more than himself. Its not a much bigger leap for him to fall asleep with his back to them.

Preferred sleeping position is laying on his partner in some capacity, either on their shoulder, chest, stomach...again, cat-like. Not often he initiates affection, but once he does, personal space is a foreign concept.

Hug-from-behinder

All of these have something to do with sleeping, you might notice. Gage does not let people see him sleep, know where he does it. The ultimate sign of trust from Gage is being unconscious around them. And if he wakes up unharmed, unfucked with? It would take a fucking lot for that person to lose his loyalty and love. They're basically married now.

Seriously, Gage doesn't do 'downtime'. He can't relax like that. It's his partner's presence that helps him feel safe enough to rest for the sake of resting. Doing nothing is more meaningful to Gage than doing anything. Gage is always going, or planning his 'going'. Getting him to stop is a triumph.

Will share food with them. Have half of this fruit, eat the rest of this stew, finish these eggs for him. Won't even realize he's doing it. Gage is kind of a control freak, always wants to make sure everything is running well, taken care of.

His partner helping him shave his hair. Just consider that. Consider them with their hand on his jaw, tilting his head. His stubble scratches their fingers. Their hand is so close to his throat, they could feel his slow pulse with one little movement. In their other palm is a razor. They stand behind him, diligently scraping. His eye is closed, his own hands idle in his lap. Maybe someone talks, maybe they don't. The bathroom is small and the door is closed, and Porter Gage gives them sharp metal and bares his throat.

^ this is the lewdest, vilest, indecent, most embarrassing thing I've ever written, and I once wrote a fic where character A was described as using character B's prostate as a "character V deserves better" button.

❗trigger warnings start here❗

S/A victim and will not recognize, acknowledge, process, or accept it

Part of the thing with Conner...Gage says how Conner made him feel, how closely they worked together. Even if you get that story out of him, he's not going to mention just how close they would get.

Same thing happened with Colter. Gage always wants to be close to the boss, the guy making the choices. He thinks its of his own volition with Colter—but either way, Conner and Colter got theirs. Regardless how Gage felt about it.

Had something of a drinking problem when he was younger. Did it mostly to feel mature, adult. This stopped when he joined his second raider gang, after the Conner incident.

Every so often, has an episode of some kind. Angry, manic, depressed, paranoid—its very rare but Gage gets into these spells that last about a month. They usually involve him looking over his shoulder, so to speak, looking at the path he took to get where he is. Looking at the shadow he has and the demons in it. Thats largely why Gage is a workaholic, always going. If he stops, he might glance at all of the shit he's been through, and he loses his mind for a while. No one knows, it's wholly private. Gets through his day normally. Its all in his head, no external expression. Nothing in his face, his tone, movement, behavior...you couldn't never see it. You'd only know if he told you. God knows he wouldn't.

Another thing he won't acknowledge—misses his family. Absolute fucking liar, he was really close to them before bailing out of the blue one night. He didn't think about it until he almost died to Conner, and had that one moment where he seriously regretted leaving, and wanted to go home. He rarely ever thinks about his family, and even more rare does he recognize the empty hole in his chest as homesickness. When he does, has one of those episodes.

These episodes end with Gage hardening even further. He shaves off a little more of his humanity each time, whatever he considers a weakness. Its just like whittling.

His emotional walls are a two-way street—it keeps everyone else out to protect himself, but it also cages him. Build up enough walls, you have a labyrinth. You'll lose your way around eventually. If not found by a Sole, or anyone else who befriends and gets close to him, Gage would end in a bad fucking place. Whether dead or alive, he would barely be a person. Just a husk with no rhyme or reason to what it did, running purely on autopilot. He's a raider, so he raids things. No thought of survival or anything like that anymore. Mechanically going through each day until he eventually died. He's about 3/4s of the way through this internal withering at the time of the Nuka World DLC.

[pandorafallz]

Lest We Rest Upon Our Graves | C23

The Zeswa were open and catering as usual by the time Kìoetey arrived in the afternoon, Minang showing them the tent that they’d share with a few of the clan. Teylan’s space was closest to the ground and Kìoetey made sure he had an area where he could put his sky-people things that would be safe from the elements but out of the way of Zeswa culture given some of his things had metal. She’d let Ri��nela choose her place so she allowed herself to wander the Circle.

There was a low melancholy but also victory in the air still. The Zakru were ever-sleeping giants and peaceful; their breaths echoing every so often that soothed the people. A few were dance-fighting was well underway and with many spectators but she had no energy to watch or cheer.

Still, Kìoetey was glad to see the clan continuing their healing now from the losses of their battle. Days ago and still, it felt so far back…or yesterday.

“<Sarentu, I am glad to see you settling in>” Nesim’s voice echoed, drawing her attention from the fight. “<I have not seen the other two arrive yet.>”

“<They’ll be taking Anqa’s ship, they’ll be here soon.>”

Nesim nodded in acknowledgement. “<Then we shall welcome them warmly. Kìn has offered to help the young Teylan in his integration with the ways of the people.>”

“<That’s a wonderful idea.>” Kìoetey let out a sigh of relief. “<But Teylan will bring Sky people things with him. Items he knows and brings him comfort. Pulling him entirely away from that will distress him.>”

Nesim nodded. “<Minang said the same thing. Nonetheless, there is plenty of time ahead for him to part. Like a newborn Zakru, a gentle touch must be applied but also the willingness to learn on his part. It may take years for him to… grow out of those metal trinkets.>”

Kìoetey couldn’t agree more. As fierce as the Zeswa was, as Nesim was, even, they were empathetic. Perhaps Teylan’s more human-learned nature and skittishness were a sign of their pain and how they had been twisted and moulded by their captors. It would take time to unlearn and let go. Teylan would find it a hard road to walk but with them, Kim and the Zeswa, they should help.

“<Let’s hope.>”

“<Does he connect to Eywa often?>”

“<No. Only once to a Tarsyu plant a few months back>”

Nesim nodded. “<Minang will attempt his spiritual healing when he’s ready to do so. Perhaps it would be wise to relay to her his experience that time for her to understand what to expect; he needs to connect often to allow the Great Mother to aid his spirit.>”

“<I can do that. He was very weary of it. Mercer… planted fear of Eywa in him young.>”

Nesim’s tongue clicked in disgust. “<The sky people did that to all of you?>”

“<They tried. Fear of Eywa did not stick with me or Ri’nela. I was too curious to not let the root grow. Nor… is not scared of Eywa but grew to fear the judgement of our ancestors on what we became in our captivity. What the people would think of him for his upbringing.>” Kìoetey’s heart tugged as she spoke of Nor. “<I just wish he tried harder to not see it was our fault.>”

“<One day, he may come to see that. He had a lot to learn and to let go of if he is to ever thrive as a Sarentu with a healed spirit.>” Nesim said sharply, “<but that does open up the topic of concern in regards to your wandering Sarentu friend.>”

“<You’re worried about what he did to Alma?>” It was the only logical jump of conclusion with him.

“<In part, yes.>” Nesim led her way from the group, heading into the council tent. “<Most of us have come to learn of her fate and her actions that led to the Dreamwalker’s death. Many believe that he is responsible for her death entirely, not just of the Dreamwalker.”

Kìoetey’s eye twitched. “<Do you agree with that… belief?>”

Nesim crouched down softly to the bowl of embers. Her remaining eye was weighed in careful consideration. “<I do, based on one death triggered another based upon his actions, but I don’t see the weight of the secondary death as heavy as the first. The human death is more…irrelevant to my concerns.>”

Her head tilted before she too crouched to be on the same level. “<You fear he might attack someone again?>”

“<I do.>”

“<I think that’s a little unfair to judge him on that.>”

“<Nor’s actions of his rage show me his soul is much like Teylan's in how the sky people have claimed him. No whispers have told me he sought healing with the people to let go of the ways of the Sky people. It seems he did not wish to learn.>” Nesim said, “<With Blood and a death fuelled by Rage upon his hands, I must be hesitant if he was to return. I am Olo’eyktan of my people. I have to keep my people safe.>”

Kìoetey’s eyes dropped but she hated how much of a point Nesim had. “<Would… you reject him?>”

Nesim hummed, “<Not straight away; it had been some time and he may found some healing in his path. He will need to prove to both myself and Minang that he presents no danger to the clan and that his anger is safely managed.>”

She supposed that was a fair compromise; they needed to know and Nor did need to evolve beyond what the Sky people had made of him. They were going to allow him to do so. There were children around, after all. Alma had been their leader as well at the time of her avatar’s murder. A weight that Nesim must carry. But there was hope too for him. They’d not shut him out.

At least he had a better option here than at the Resistance base; they’d not allow him back so easily. Did they too share the belief that Nor had killed Alma? Did… Nor know that he had condemned Alma when he had stabbed the avatar or did he simply believe he was taking the avatar away from her with its death? Up until now, Kìoetey hadn’t considered the two deaths were possibly on Nor’s hand but… she could see it now. Kìoetey brushed off the notion of Nor’s hate going that far; he probably had no idea Alma was truly gone now and certainly couldn’t have known the avatar’s death was a cause.

That wasn’t going to be an easy conversation when she eventually saw him again. With Mercer’s death and Harding’s death, that would certainly satisfy him that he no longer had shadows of them lingering. They were gone.

They were all gone.

The only one left that had any part was Mokasa and he was exiled. Eywa only knew where he was now but it was odd to feel that… TAP was nothing but a chapter behind them with no follow-ups.

No closure either.

She supposed she’d have to see what the messages Alma left were to see on that.

“<I suppose that’s all I can ask.>” Kìoetey sighed, “<Thank you.>”

Seeing Teylan in the Circle was an immense relief when Anqa finally touched down. Ri’nela too, but Teylan looked very nervous, clutching a tablet to his chest as he followed her into the Dairy crafter’s tent where Kìn awaited them with Minang to observe for now.

“The Zakru are huge!” Teylan whispered loudly, eyeing each of the gentle giants with caution but also fascination. “What happens if they roll over? We’ll be squished, surely…”

Minang’s lip curled up but said little in regard to it

“<Teylan, this is Kìn, he helps create cheeses and other delicate for the clan>” Kìoetey introduced, offering Kìn the traditional gesture, which was echoed back.

“<I see you, young Teylan and do not worry, the Zakru do not roll when asleep.>” Kìn said with a laugh, “<They know when we are near and are gentle.>” Kìn offered them a place by the vats of milk.

Ri’nela however drifted towards Minang.

“<Go to the council tent,>” Minang said softly, “<my tsakarem is waiting for you. I will join you shortly.>”

Kìoetey made to rise; to occupy herself with the artisans but Teylan’s voice pulled her back.

“Kìoetey, can you stay?” He looked up at her nervously, “Please.”

The Sarentu eyed her friend before she nodded softly. “Okay, for a few hours.”

-

So’lek eyed the newcomers with some distance; settling to observe the Dreamwalkers as they interacted and settled with the resistance. It was odd, a weight was both added and removed since their arrival and there was no mistake some of it was in terms of Alma’s death. So’lek didn’t try to get involved with the humans on that matter but it gave him a number of a few to be cautious of based on their lack of empathy and self-entitled belief of this… karma. Still, he would still work for the resistance.

It would be quiet while they waited but with Harding’s Dreamwalker in growth without a due date, he had to be ready for the Sarentu and the clans for when she made her unwelcome appearance. For what he would do in that quiet before the storm, he didn’t know but he had to find a new purpose in that time.

The Resistance had a purpose for now and he had taken the mantle of co-leader with a purpose; to be the voice for the Resistance and to act in balance with the clans and the humans here. But he knew it was not forever. What would he do with himself? He had plenty of rosters to sort through; to find who had been a part of his clan’s demise and add their tags to his attire.

One day he would have to stop… not today.

The male Dreamwalker was not in his false skin now and walked with his mate as she remained linked in, which was not surprising with the size of her belly. He put her at six months with the size but did they have any actual supplies to handle a newborn baby not of their species? Did they know how to care for it?

The female Dreamwalker turned, accidentally catching his stare before she departed from her mate and headed his way as if he had called her over.

“Hello, So’lek. I’m glad to see you here.” She greeted him as if they knew each other. “We haven’t gotten to proper introductions before so, my name is Molly.”

So’lek eyed the Dreamwalker carefully but said nothing. Clearly, she wanted something.

Molly sighed deeply, her hand coming to her hip. “Since we’ll be staying here, I was hoping you could aid me in getting in contact with a Tsahìk to assist me when I give birth. We’ve not been allowed to observe much, or anything to aid Na’vi in childbirth. Dreamwalkers will follow Na’vi biology in birth.” She explained.

So’lek’s eyes dipped down to her pregnant belly again, noticing the visible lump of a heel that quickly vanished under the skin. “How far along are you in the pregnancy?”

“Twenty-six weeks. Mo’at believes Dreamwalkers have the same gestation period as Na’vi as well, so 36 weeks.”

That sounded about right. Na’vi was birthed from a tsalnu pod that was pushed from the mother’s womb, so had to be delivered earlier than that of a human pregnancy (which he heard was a whole month longer and the infants were still underdeveloped) since the pod at to be birthed as well with a certain circumference of fluid around the baby’s head.

Na’vi couldn’t be born like a human; the newborn’s kuru would be crushed in the vaginal canal if it did. The pod still provided warmth and a continuing gestation while the mother nourished it via her kuru until the child was developed enough for the outside world. In rare cases, a tsalnu pod could be cared for by Eywa by being placed at the root of a spiritual tree if neither parent is capable of bonding with the pod.

Ten weeks the Dreamwalker had then. Not a lot of time but… he should get that sorted easily for the sake of the child. These people needed to be educated to allow the child to thrive in childhood. If they couldn’t tend to the child, then the child would have to be removed and adopted.

“I will talk to Anufi. She is the closest Tsahìk the resistance has.”

Molly relaxed considerably. “Thank you.”

So’lek simply nodded. “Have you considered how to raise the child? How to care for it between bodies?”

“I’m not hundred percent sure but me and Daniel are going over possibilities. Pumping and storing milk, alternating sleeping locations. We’re going to see about putting a link shack out beside a tent for our Dreamwalkers for ease. One of us will always be out in our human forms at night for them.” Molly said, a little more thoughtfully.

So’lek considered it a little but it set him at more ease that they were thinking ahead. “Good.”

“Another thing, I got this for you.” From most likely her back pocket, she pulled out a tablet and held it out. “Call it a gift.”

So’lek eyed the device. “What is this?”

“When we left, a warrior came to me after she had learned you had settled in the West resistance. Tsmazì te Ftutxen Katì'ite. She claimed to have been part of your clan.”

So’lek’s eyes widened a little in alarm. He knew of Tsmazì and that she had joined the Omatikaya after the battle but he hadn’t looked into her further after he left. Only a handful of his clan survived and joined others as they weren’t able to support themselves as a clan any longer. He hadn’t wanted to be so close to the Omatikaya given how close they had been to the humans that had stayed.

“She is… well?” he asked.

“Yes. She’s been mated for seven years and has given birth to two sons, one four and the second has just turned one. She wished to pass a message to you so I offered to record it for her. It’s on here if you want to hear it.” Molly said kindly.

So’lek took the tablet from her, masking the emotion from his face despite the upkeep of his heart. She was happy, content and with the children she had so desperately wanted. He was happy for her for finding that peace. More than what he ever hoped to achieve.

Molly nodded at his silence and took her leave and she waddled away.

So’lek hurried away too after a moment once she was out of sight and down towards the office, glad for it being empty before he turned the device on and ready waiting was the recording so… with a second of hesitancy, he pressed play….

-

It was a few days before Kìoetey heard anything from the resistance but as promised, she was told when they were reburying Alma’s avatar so she took her leave from the Zeswa to aid. Ri’nela declined the offer to do which wasn’t unexpected. Teylan didn’t want to go but had plans to briefly return to help with the memorial piece for Alma (and a warning had been delivered for the humans against desecrating the memorial as Alex feared some would try and get rid of or deface Alma’s picture).

Kìoetey left that morning to help and landed in time outside to see the male Dreamwalker, Daniel with his team prepping the site. A large, Na’vi-sized body bag was spread open and ready, as was a shoebox-sized box beside the smaller graves. A few spades were set ready and the humans looked to be dressed in very sterile overalls. Even the Dreamwalker has a face mask on and long gloves.

“Here, for the smell.” A mask was offered to her as well so she took it with a nod, carefully fitting it on.

“Where are you going to bury her?” Kìoetey asked, seeing the scan Daniel had of the grave, noting the fact it was still decomposing so it wasn’t going to be pleasant. She was kinda glad she had an early and light breakfast.

“Alma mentioned in her video log to So’lek and Alex she wanted it to be buried somewhere near to the Horseshow mountain station; there’s a great view of the floating mountains above, stealth river and Whispering pond are also near and she wanted it under a tree. Norm’s scoping it out for us and…collecting a few samples of flora.”

Kìoetey gave him a look at that. “Really?”

“We’re running low on avatar supplements for an avatar in tank storage. We’re looking into alternatives to keep it alive. Best to do so while we have enough. Plus, Mo’at instructed us to keep it alive as long as possible.”

“Why is an avatar in storage?”

“It… the driver died.” Daniel said sadly, “Dr Grace Augustine. Our supplies for her won’t last forever. Her daughter visits the avatar often to feel a connection with her birth mother.”

Kìoetey’s annoyance vanished. “I see…”

It did briefly make her wonder for a second on… what would have happened if Alma died and the avatar had lived instead? Would they simply kill it and bury them together or… do what the eastern crew did; put it into storage? Kìoetey wasn’t sure… nor did she like to think about it.

“What’s the plan?” She asked, nodding to the grave site.

“We’ve taken scans to know how deep the remains are. We’ll strip the initial layers off quickly then we’ll be gentler the closer we are. We’ve found the fetal remnants but they’re almost gone but we’ll uproot the entire patch of dirt and rebury them with the big one anyone so they’re together. We’ll work quick but… given the state of decomposing, the avatar is still in active decay and… won’t be whole.”

“I understand.” She said quickly. “I won’t get in the way but I’ll observe.”

It wasn’t pleasant, as they worked and she was glad the mask was on as they got around to the retrieval of the remains. She turned her eyes away a few times but the avatar was somewhat intact given Ri’nela had bound the body before burial; curled up and thus retained shape with the packed mud and many hands helped transfer it into the bag. The tail had separated which made her almost throw up as they quickly realised and added it in. The grave was scanned for anything else before it was considered empty and filled in. The other box was filled with dirt from the baby graves before the guy found beads in the last one.

Kìoetey couldn’t help herself but steal a single bead from the box; a blue, dirt-encrusted wooden bead but she recognised them in a heartbeat. She had… noticed that Alma had gotten rid of her hair beads but never asked why. Still, the bead would make a… marker for her songcord. A bead for her death and the end of their TAP history. It was almost fitting. Stolen too, so it had some poetics.

She slipped it into her pouch for now.

The reburial plot was actually a beautiful spot, surprisingly close to where she had been looking for Alma before So’lek had pulled her away but more closer to the valley mountainside that separated the Clouded Forest from the neighbouring territories. From against the wall, you could look out across the trees and how the sunlight shone through the mist with the distant sound of running water of a stream. A large but young forest pine’s roots were exposed and excavated before the avatar was placed in raw and dirt was quick to cover before a few interested Shroud could get involved.

Kìoetey stared at the new grave with a heavy heart but… she felt more at ease by this grave now. While made by strangers, it held more dignity now. Far from the resistance’s convenience. A good spot, distant and… peaceful. She could see why Alma chose this region of the forest. Would she ever come back here? Visit the grave again or… just move on? She didn’t know.

One guy scored the tree with a large cross symbol as Alma had done with her daughter and mate’s remains. A grave marker, she supposed. Red sap did leak a little from the wounds which looked a little like blood. No one commented on that.

Nonetheless, Kìoetey let the others go with a goodbye before she sat down a few feet from the upturned soil and waited until they were all gone before she plucked out the thumb drive thoughtfully.

Alma’s last message to her. To them.

Made under a different pretext but… still. It was something. She had all of them, for her… Ri’nela, Teylan… Should she wait until she’s at the base or at the Camp? She knew Teylan may struggle with his; she’d have to discuss with him and Ri’nela when for him to watch his. Would it help him or hinder him? Would he allow them to watch first to see or… not want to watch at all?

“Sarentu?”

“Over here, So’lek,” Kìoetey called, her head turning to see the older warrior stroll through the forests but… she saw a new lightless in his shoulders, his walk less heavy and a tablet tucked under his arm. “Everything alright?”

So’lek nodded, his eyes passing over the grave for a moment then returned to her. “Yes. I was on my way to the Hollows to speak to Anufi. I got a little… detoured. I apologise for not helping with the reburial.”

“It’s okay.” Kìoetey smiled sadly, sighing deeply as she stared down at the soil again. “You seem lighter. Did something happen?”

So’lek’s hand tightened a moment on his tablet. “I received some kind words from my past that I did not expect to receive.” He didn’t elaborate, nor did she ask.

“Can I borrow the tablet? I… I want to view Alma’s last message for me.” It seemed fitting to watch it here.

So’lek nodded once, turning the tablet over to her.

She opened it up, closing the previous program and slipped the drive into the handle’s USB port and the small screen filled with files. Some were pictures, one was of a little baby, and some were scans… but she found the video logs page. A few stood out. However, her thumb hit one at random as she made to press the one with her name;

‘Hey, Alma. Give us a spin!’ A male voice spoke, the scene opening up swiftly to a SciOps Lab but mostly a desk of paperwork. The video showed the back of Alma, seated in a white lab coat and grey sweater underneath, turning a little towards the camera and giving whoever was holding it an exasperated look.

 “Put that down, I’m working.” She waved it away but the camera remained steady.

“Look, you’re carrying the first ever human going to be born on Pandora! This is for research!”

“Have you gloated you help make it?” She eyed the cameraman again more cheekily.

“You’re doing all the hard work, Doc. My job is done.”

“Ha, like hell it isn’t.” She retorted back, “You’ve already agreed to be very involved so you’re on diaper duty.” Alma raised her hand twirled her engagement ring at the camera and then she stood up from her desk though careful with how large the bump was before she rolled her eyes after a moment, giving a soft spin with a hand on the front of her belly. “Happy?”

“Very!” The camera jostled as it was lowered the tablet down, and set to rest against something before the cameraman came into focus; a dark-skinned man with short hair, a thin face but clearly a very loving spirit as his hands came to feel the bump. “Only a few weeks to go.”

Alma smiled, moving his hand to an area that was no doubt the baby’s movement. “Thank god.”

The man snorted, “That eager?”

Kìoetey hit the back button with a heavy sigh. A few weeks indeed before that little family was ripped apart. Still, one of many Mercer had a personal hand in. It was weird seeing Alma so… different. Almost free of something, despite this happening so soon after they were kidnapped. Had Alma been a different person before her family’s death or did she simply put that personal part of her aside? She wouldn’t know. Never would know really. Irrelevant now like most of what was on this drive.

Kìoetey swallowed thickly as she realised that Alma had made a message for Nor as well on the list. She hadn’t anticipated that. She had expected her, Ri’nela and Teylan but Nor? The person who had murdered her avatar? She left him a final message.

Her fingers hovered over the log for a second before she pressed it and let it fill the screen, glad for one she wasn’t alone in watching this.

The video opened to Alma in the module, early morning from the time stamp (before she had last spoken to her she noted) and looked very tired and her arm was just out of sight with an ice pack. She looked a little unfocused, blinking more but a hot cup was steaming beside her and she was twiddling the spoon up that chinked a little with her spare hand.

“So…” She started, her voice cracking before she coughed once to clear her throat then winced, her hand dropping the spoon to the back of her head sharply. “Ow.” She leant back but returned back to her log. “If… this message is being watched then it’s because I died during surgery. If you haven’t already been informed, I have a brain aneurysm that’s been growing right beside my brain stem. If that ruptures… I’m fucked.�� She said, not consorting herself as she typically would but at this point, she looked too tired to care.

“I know my chances are at… 30% at best. I’m not healthy and I’m not young either. But if I don’t try to get this procedure done, then I won’t survive. That’s a certainty. I’d take probable death over certain death. I know I planned to talk to you before the procedure but… I don’t know if we came to some sort of peace between us or not. I’d like to think so. Either way, if I address anything we’ve already said, you’re gonna hear it again so… be prepared. I don’t know what future me will say or not say, depending on how well the conversion goes.

To start off… I am sorry for what I was a part of in TAP. If there is one thing from my history I do regret, it is TAP. I know it means very little now but… I do know I’ll die with that regret. There is nothing I can do right now to help and I wanted to live long enough to try. I would have spent the rest of my life trying to repent for what I was a part of. If I’m dead, then I’m sorry that I can’t be there to make up for it.”

Alma paused, taking a heavy sip from her cup. “I-I don’t know what else I can say now. I know I should have told you all sooner and… I know you questioned me about it before after the avatar’s funeral and I said it was because I didn’t want to distract you from the fight against Mercer but that’s not the truth. You knew that, Kìoetey. I… I wasn’t willing to admit to myself that I was being a coward. I was. The entire time after we brought you out of Cryo, I thought about telling you but… then I couldn’t do it. I was… I was scared of what you would say to me… do to me if you knew. I pictured a lot happening. I knew you’d hate me and the others as well, that everyone would hate me as well, even the ones I spent the last 16 years with; they’d see me differently. I know what I did was far different from the weight they pulled for the RDA before they defected. I wanted…” she paused for a moment, “I wanted to pretend that everything was okay. That we could be and stay a happy family. I wanted that. I was fooling myself really. I’m sorry I caught you in the middle of that lost fantasy. I wasn’t fair to you. Any of you.”

Alma swallowed thickly into the mug, groaning a little as her hand returned to her head before she breathed through what pain she was clearly in. “I hope tonight I can sleep peacefully. No more jackhammers.” She muttered to herself. It took a few moments before Alma concentrated enough to continue. “I’m sorry…this isn’t going as I planned. I.. there’s a lot I want to say but things... things are getting jumbled in my head now.”

She leaned forward again, dropping her head back to grasp her mug and then squinted off to the side at the second monitor screen then shifted the camera to a little. “I don’t… I don’t expect forgiveness for what I was a part of. I know I didn’t tell you before but… in all honesty, I was scared of how you’d react if I told you of my condition. I…I thought I knew you. But then Nor stabbed me… and with you and my other avatars and… I was scared that you might be happy to learn of my impending death. I know it’s not the right thing to do and wait until the last second to say anything. I know there are a few humans out there in the resistance willing to cheer my death on from the sides and I don’t want to know who they are.

If my death happened in surgery, I’d already put a place for them to bury me in my message to Alex and So’lek. Close to my family but far enough from the Resistance. If I’m lucky, my avatar might be moved to be close or buried beside me. I’d like that at the very least. No more desecration.” She chuckled bitterly. “I’m sorry for judging you on my assumptions and possibilities. You’ve grown so much these last couple of months and… I’ve not known myself for a while. Maybe I was never meant to survive” She tapered off a little, distracted before she closed her eyes with a shallow breath.

“I’m sorry, I’m rambling now.” Alma opened her eyes again, “I am dead. My story is over. I hope that you and your clan heal well from what we did to you. But know that… I am proud of you. All of you to overcome and grow into the Na’vi you truly are. You deserve so much more and I hope one day the Sarentu will wander Pandora again. Aha’ri will be proud to see how far you’ve come.”

Alma stared into the camera, weighted but content with its burden. Blood seemed to seep from her nose but she didn’t quite realise.

“Goodbye, Kìoetey.”

She reached off towards the camera before it froze on the last frame and stopped.

Silence fell between and rang loudly before she pulled the drive out and handed the tablet back to So’lek. His hand came to her shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

“A little all over the place…” Kìoetey remarked, “But… I suppose that’s not surprising with her condition and the pain she was in. I can’t believe sometimes that I missed seeing the signs when I last saw her. I see the sickness in her face.”

“You couldn’t have known, Sarentu.”

“I know.”

Which was one of the few things that held the guilt from her last interaction with her away. She couldn’t have known that was the last time she would have seen her. Still, she felt a little more at ease now, even if the log wasn’t perfect. Alma was gone, the avatar was properly buried and now, it felt that the strings her death frayed weren’t so severed to hurt.

She would move on.

Still, she allowed herself to stay seated beside the grave for now even as So’lek rose and offered a hand up but she declined it.

“A few more minutes.” She asked.

So’lek nodded once and left her alone.

Kìoetey stared at the soil for a moment, allowing herself to find the words to speak.

“I’m sorry you’re not here, Alma. It would have been… enough to see you try and put the effort in for us. I know, despite your death, it’s not enough for me to forgive you. Not yet, at least. You caused so much pain but… I would not have wished death or harm on you either. What point is there to do so when it would provide nothing to what is left of us? Pain and death is no redemption or payment towards it.” She whispered, “You’re gone now. I don’t know where you’ve gone now or where your spirit went. I want to believe Eywa but… that’s not possible. But I hope that where you truly fell is where you wanted to be. We’ll be fine and we’ll heal from everything. One day the Sarentu will grow and return in full. It may take decades but… now we have all the time in the world in front of us to allow that. It may take the others longer to find peace but I know I am walking that path. Maybe I’ll return here to visit you. Maybe not.” She sighed deeply. “I’ll see what comes of my future. So… Goodbye, Alma, may your spirit rest in peace.”

Masterlist

[signoraviolettavalery]

My and @touchyourblood's vampire AU has now started spawning AUs of its own, and I think it's about time for a post about one of the storylines we've been spitballing over chat for the past few weeks (the following is a combination of my writing and hers).

In this one, Bojan is a vampire, Jan comes from a family of hunters and especially hates vampires/thinks they're monsters because when he was young a vampire fed on and almost killed his brother/mother/best friend/whoever. He originally joins the band to spy on Bojan, learn more about vampires, and then, once he finds proof that he's a monster (he's sure it's a question of if, not when), kill him. (For this to work Martin would have to be a guitar player who leaves to be replaced by Jan, just go with it). But, of course, things don't unfold as predicted...

Jan is wary at first, of course. He's entirely convinced that if Kris, Jure, and Nace know about the vampire thing and stick around, it's because Bojan has kept them around with promises of immortality, fame, or threats. As far as he's concerned, Martin has "escaped." And he wants to badly to make a contribution to hunter knowledge, to discover something new and useful, before ridding the world of this monster.

So he watches every interaction carefully. He tries to provoke Bojan sometimes, seeing if it might make him snap and reveal his true nature. He sees the camaraderie and trust between the other band members and doesn't understand it. They playfully insult him, disagree with him, and he never loses his temper or tries to assert his dominance. Instead, he's always there for his friends, supporting them, comforting them - and extending the same courtesy to Jan.

One time, one of them tosses Bojan over his shoulder to "force" him to go somewhere (boring interview?) and Jan expects him to turn violent or at least aggressive in some way, but Bojan just whines and pouts. He waits and waits for there to be some repercussions but nothing ever comes, Bojan seems to forget all about it like it was just some typical thing (it was).

Bojan, dramatic and brooding, often goes out late at night and wanders Ljubljana. Unable to sleep, trying to come to terms with his vampire reality, or just lost in thought. Jan follows him, expecting to catch him feeding at least once. After all, there are plenty of people on the streets late at night that no one would miss. It'd be very easy for Bojan to just take. But he never does.

One night, they come across a couple of super drunk girls stumbling home from a club. A perfect target, and when Bojan comes up to them Jan is on his guard, ready to defend them, thinking he finally has proof, but Bojan just gets them a cab because they're too drunk to get home.

At one point, he walks backstage and finds Bojan with an unconscious female fan. He's ready to spring into action, but no, the girl was just feeling unwell so Bojan took her backstage so she could lie down. He's fetching her water and helping her drink it, comforting her, asking if she's here alone, if there's anyone he can call, brushing her off when she bats her eyelashes and asks "whatever can I do to thank you?" "Oh good," he says when he sees Jan. "Can you get Kris and help find her friend? She should be somewhere in the audience." Stunned, Jan does.

He spies on one of Bojan's calls with Martin, who expresses concern that he's not feeding enough and that having to hide his secret from "the new guy" when they're basically together 24/7 isn't healthy for him. And he spies on Bojan feeding on Kris (the three other band members take turns). Bojan is resisting, hating hurting his friend, even if his friend is willing, while Kris tries to convince him he needs to feed. Bojan is careful as he bites a wrist, and stops....rather quickly, and on his own. That can't have been enough sustenance, and Kris seems to agree. "You didn't take enough," he reproaches.

"It's enough for now," Bojan says. "Here, rest." He binds his wrist oh-so-carefully, brings him some juice and a high-calorie snack.

And slowly, Jan comes to realize that Bojan is completely different from what he thought. That his first encounter with a vampire may have been with a monstrous predator, but that not every vampire is like that. He comes to think of him as a friend, even, and to trust him.

And so, one night, when Bojan is out, wandering the city, Jan follows him and Bojan finally lets Jan know that he knows he's being followed. He's sitting on top of a fountain, feet in the water, looking up at the Ljubljana castle and the moon and thinking.

"How long are you gonna keep following me?" he asks.

"Until I figure out what you're actually up to" Jan says, which isn't untrue. He hasn't seen Bojan feed once, but there must be a reason he's wandering the town almost very night.

Bojan shrugs. "Insomnia. worries. Thought that keep me up"

"about what?" jan pushes, wondering if bojan has killed. if that's what keeps him up at night. if he's fleeing from bad memories

"letting people down. failing at the things that are important to me. being alone."

All of which feels very familiar to Jan. In this moment, more than any other, he sees Bojan as painfully human. Flawed and scared and not an all-powerful predator. And this is when he drops the truth bomb that he knows what Bojan is. He explains it away as "I saw a vampire feed on a family member when I was young so I believe in them," which isn't untrue. And then he comes up to join Bojan where he's sitting.

"You sure you want to get so close to someone so deadly?" Bojan says. "No one around to hear you scream."

"I think I'm in the safest place in Ljubljana, actually," Jan replies, leaning his head on Bojan's shoulder and dangling his feet in the same fountain.

"how's that?" Bojan asks.

"well, you are the deadliest thing around, but you also strike me as someone who'd never let someone hurt those he cares about," Jan says.

Bojan nods. "No one but me," he says sadly. "I get to hurt them regularly."

"They agreed to it, didn't they?" Jan points out. "It's their choice."

"Yeah," Bojan says. "Even convinced me to complete the transformation, when I was turned."

"Huh?" This is a part of vampire lore Jan isn't familiar with.

"Oh, right." Bojan seems to remember that. "When you get turned, you have a day to feed and complete your transformation, or you die. I wasn't sure I wanted to do it. Be a predator, hurt people for the rest of my existence. But Kris and Jure and Martin were there. They convinced me, told me we'd figure it out together. Helped me learn to control myself."

And - oh. Jan had never realized it was a choice. A choice between life and death, granted, but a choice nonetheless. And Bojan hadn't wanted to choose this.

He feels like he seems both vampires and Bojan in a new light. How could he ever have considered that this man is a monster, a predator? It's not a boon, it's a curse that was forced on him, this half-life or death.

But Bojan doesn't know Jan is a hunter, or why he joined the band. So many secrets between them...