#almost tripped while taking this so that explains the blurriness

[firesonahill]

After getting to the hotel, I quickly left to explore the city. It was beautiful. I felt at peace.

[secriden]

Fadel thoughts before watching Episode 4

Oh man, I really, really like the storytelling happening in THK with Fadel.

We get this scene in episode 2, because Style thinks that Fadel is closed off to love in general and that he can unnerve/shock Fadel by saying something so harsh and shocking and 'foreign' to him. And the thing is, Fadel does look shocked. He seems almost frozen in uncertainty, and we (the audience) also think it's because he doesn't understand what Style is describing because he's so inexperienced in love.

But then in episode 3, we get this:

And we get this:

...and it suddenly, breathtakingly reframes Fadel's stunned stillness in episode 2.

Because that was Fadel recognising a kindred spirit in Style. That was Fadel seeing himself; carefree and naive and so very in love, that he dared to dream of a life outside of duty to his family and his mother. That was Fadel suddenly seeing a glimpse of something he can relate to that could explain Style's absolutely insane behaviour and it throws him so off that all his carefully maintained control over himself crumples away into dust.

It's not just that he finally gives in to the physical attraction he feels for Style (Four tissues? Okay, Fadel.), it's the way he progressively softens towards Style throughout episode 3.

I swear, I tried to get a shot with the burger but it kept coming out blurry.

Let's just take a moment to appreciate how SOFT Fadel looks here and how delighted Style is by this tiny gesture of goodwill and friendliness. This was such a small but telling moment between them.

And I do think Fadel genuinely has softened to Style. He was angry at Style for the support group but his emotions are also especially heightened after: (1) being taunted by Keen about the ex, (2) arguing with Bison about quitting again and promising to talk to their mother even while he looked very reluctant to do so, (3) fighting off three guys in front of Style, which Fadel has GOT to be aware is going to make him seem suspicious/potentially blow their cover again, (4) witnessing Bison and Kant being cute and giving each other nose kisses and flirting, which literally upsets him so much that he drinks himself into a depression walk down memory lane.

While it doesn't make what Style did any better (but I already explained my take on his side of things), it does tell us that Fadel is upset for reasons OTHER than what Style did. And it's also why, I think, the door is still very much open for Style to make that emotional connection to Fadel.

Because he already has. Because Fadel tripped and it wasn't (just) over Style's body or his persistence. It was his heart, in the end, that jumpstarted Fadel's own.

[solarmorrigan]

If you’re still taking prompts, could I ask for “please come get me” with Steddie?

I’ve read over all your other angst prompts and just about died this morning, you’re so good at the pain!!

Hello! :D Thank you for the prompt! I'm afraid this one is a little heavier on the comfort than the hurt, so perhaps not as much pain, but if you've been binging what I've written so far, maybe that's a good thing?? But anyway, I hope this is alright!

[Warning for implied child neglect/emotional abuse. Nothing really happens in the fic, but just as a heads up]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

Eddie shouldn’t be hearing this. This isn’t a conversation meant for spectators.

“I know you just got back from a trip, I just–” Harrington says into the receiver of the payphone, clinging to the handset as he practically wilts against the useless ‘privacy wall’ next to it. “I’m sorry, I was just hoping you could give me a ride home.”

All Eddie had wanted to do was cut the pep rally like any self-respecting social outcast would, except he couldn’t just ditch and go home; it’s Friday, and he has Hellfire after this. But the last thing he’d expected while loitering around outside, waiting for the pep rally to end, had been to stumble across Steve Harrington on the phone, practically begging someone for a ride home.

“No, I drove myself here today, I’m just not sure I can drive home.” Harrington pauses, then sighs. “No, Dad, this is a pep rally, I haven’t been drinking.” Whatever comes down the line next makes his posture snap straight almost immediately, before he hunches back in on himself with a wince and a hand pressed to his forehead. “No, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

This is weird. This is so weird. Harrington is meant to be cocky – confident and in-charge and at ease, not curled around a payphone in the same way a kicked puppy tries to protect itself even as it asks someone for more attention.

Someone who is apparently his dad.

It’s just – weird. It’s like how you know a lemon is a citrus fruit, just the same as an orange, but the second you peel off the rind, you feel like you’ve seen something forbidden. Lemons aren’t meant to be peeled that way, and Harrington isn’t meant to look close to tears while trying to get someone to drive him home.

“I – I’m sick. I mean, it’s – I have a migraine,” Harrington explains haltingly. “No, it’s not just – yeah, my head hurts, but if it was just that, I swear I wouldn’t bother you, I just – I’m dizzy, and my vision’s all blurry, so I’m not sure I can drive, and I don’t…”

Shit, that sounds kind of fucked up. Eddie frowns, leaning against the wall he’s been peering around, now definitely intentionally eavesdropping. Harrington is frowning, too, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face.

“Tommy and I don’t hang out anymore, we haven’t in over a year,” Harrington says, then carries on a little more quietly, a little more subdued, “and there isn’t really anyone else here I can catch a ride with, either.”

Eddie will admit he hasn’t been paying a whole lot of attention, but anyone who doesn’t live under a rock knows that Harrington’s popularity had taken a bit of a hit last year, when he’d ditched Hagan and Perkins and decided to be a bit less of a dick. And then this year – well, even if Hargrove hadn’t crowed enough about the fight between the two of them, the state of Harrington’s face back in November had spoken volumes. Still, Eddie hadn’t been aware the condition of Harrington’s social life was so dire.

“I’m not – I’m not making this up, the doctor talked to you about this, he– I’m not trying to talk back, I just– Dad, please, can you just – please, come get me,” Harrington stutters through what sounds very much like a losing argument before going silent altogether, pressing one hand over his eyes as he lets his head hang, the other still holding the handset near his ear. “I understand,” he says dully after a minute. “I’m sorry. I’ll – I’ll figure it out… Yes, sir.”

It doesn’t seem like there’s much left to say after that. Harrington hangs up the phone and leans up against the adjacent wall before sliding down and sitting himself right there on the ground, knees drawn up and face in his hands.

Shit.

Eddie ducks back around the corner, gnawing on his lip, caught in indecision. He shouldn’t have overheard any of that, intentionally or otherwise, but now that he has, he can’t just – not do something.

Can he?

He tries to tell himself it’s not his problem, that Harrington’s certainly never done him any favors, even if he’d never been a dick to Eddie specifically, but it doesn’t work. All Eddie can see is the defeated slump of Harrington’s shoulders, the helpless way he’d just sort of dropped to the ground, the way he’d quietly admitted there’s no one else he can ask for a ride – Eddie’s always had a soft spot for the lonely ones.

But when he rounds the corner, prepared to come up with some bullshit excuse as to why he’s out here and willing to drive Harrington home, he finds that Harrington is – gone.

Eddie glances around, but he doesn’t seem to be anywhere. Poof, vanished while Eddie had been too busy trying to decide what to do.

Well, damn.

Distantly hoping that Harrington had, indeed, figured something out, Eddie tries to put the incident out of his mind. The pep rally will be over soon, and that means Hellfire will begin, and he needs to get his head in the game.

He has no real reason to think on the incident after that, and he’s fairly successful at shoving it somewhere into the back of his mind until nearly two years later, in a setting so far removed from that spring day at the school that it might as well be in another life.

Eddie has to extricate himself from a few fans (actual fans; apparently, rumors of Satanism and returning form the dead will do wonders for the reputation of your metal band) in order to get up from the table settled near the back of The Hideout. Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver are all accounted for, enjoying their drinks and chatting with whoever’s descended upon them after their set, but Steve had disappeared ten minutes ago and has yet to make a reappearance.

Ten minutes isn’t all that long, Eddie knows logically, but after last year, after everything, it still feels a little too long. If he finds Steve and Steve tells him he’s fine, then that’s great, Eddie will leave him be. But he just wants to check.

The bathroom is a bust, empty but for one drunk swaying precariously in front of a urinal, so Eddie heads outside, where, around the side of the building, settled on the ground in a triangle of sodium-glow orange thrown off by a nearby streetlight, he finds his quarry.

Steve is sitting with his back to the rough wood façade of the bar, his knees drawn up in front of him and his head leaned back against the wall behind him. His eyes are closed, but there’s a little pinch of tension between his brows, and Eddie is abruptly reminded of that day, eons ago and not really that long ago at all, when all Steve had wanted was for someone to care enough to give him a ride home when he’d been sick.

Eddie finds his ass on the concrete right next to Steve before he even has the conscious thought to go over and sit down.

“Doing okay, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, picking up one of Steve’s hands from where it’s resting on his own knee (it’s safe enough right here, Eddie knows; someone would have to actively be looking for them to spot them where they’re tucked away).

If Steve is surprised to find Eddie beside him, he doesn’t show it. He turns to look at Eddie in the low light, offering him a fond little smile.

“I’m good. It was just getting to be a little much in there, so I came out here for a break,” he says.

Things like excessive noise and heat—say, the likes of which might be experienced at a concert in a crowded bar (or maybe a high school pep rally)—tend to be migraine triggers for Steve, so why he continues attending shows at The Hideout is beyond Eddie. He’s tried telling him that he doesn’t have to come, but Steve still insists he wants to make it to every performance that he can.

Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand. “You wanna head out?”

Steve shakes his head. “You’re having a good time. I don’t want to take you away from that.”

“I’m not going to be having a good time if you’re miserable.” Eddie reaches up and cups Steve’s cheek in his hand, keeping him facing in Eddie’s direction. “You’re a priority for me, you know that, right? Say the word, and we’ll go home.”

It doesn’t seem like Steve has anything to say to that; instead, he just stares at Eddie with something like wonder, as if Eddie’s just done anything more amazing than promise Steve that he’ll never have to beg for basic consideration.

“Besides,” Eddie goes on, if for no other reason than to shift the sudden weight of Steve’s reverence, “it’s not like it would be a hardship.” He leans in, pressing a kiss to Steve’s willing mouth before he continues, speaking so close that their lips are brushing. “Getting to take you home, take you to bed, lie there in the dark, just the two of us…”

Steve presses in for another kiss, long and lingering, before pulling away.

“Let’s stay a little longer,” he says. “Jeff owes me a beer, anyway.”

“Y’know,” Eddie pauses with a grunt of effort as Steve stands and uses their joined hands to pull Eddie up after him, “the only reason you knew the movie he was referencing—and, thus, the only reason he owes you a beer—is because I made you watch it.”

“And? What do you want, a medal?” Steve snarks.

“Well,” Eddie drawls, glancing Steve up and down, “some token of appreciation wouldn’t be remiss.”

Steve raises an unimpressed eyebrow at Eddie. “It would be if we did it in the alley next to a bar.”

“Wow, Harrington, mind in the gutter much? I only meant a beer,” Eddie sniffs, all exaggerated offense.

“Sure you did,” Steve says. “Now c’mon; one more beer, and then… home?”

“You got it, sweetheart,” Eddie says, offering one more quick kiss in hopes of putting any hesitation out of Steve’s mind. “One more beer, and then home.”

[elementaldoughnut12]

"Protect You From The Rain"

*This is from the night JD got injured and I didn't know all the other stuff so I just changed his injuries! Hope you get better soon JD!*

*This is from my Silver Knight AU*

Doughnut Team: @afterdarkprincess @thlayli-ra

“Where am I?” JD says quietly as he sways from side to side. He bumped his head on the commentary table during his match a few minutes ago and he hasn't felt right since. His vision is blurry, his head feels like it's on fire and there's a giant bruise on his forehead. He asked Finn to help take him to medical but the older man just sneered at him and told him to walk there himself. So now here he is, touching the walls as a way of navigation cause he can't see for shit.

“I think I'm almost there” JD says drowsily, as he continues feeling the walls while walking around the arena. He lets out a yelp as he trips on a camera cable and falls to the ground. “Fuck” JD says with a groan as he crawls helplessly on the floor. He hears two pairs of footsteps coming his way so he goes into a fetal position and covers his head assuming the worst. “Are you ok JD?” A voice asks worryingly. 

“We saw your match and that bump didn't look good bud” a second voice says with a concerned tone. JD looks up and sees flashes of blue and yellow which he automatically recognizes as his husbands, Seth and Drew. “Oh, I just hit my head on the commentary table! No big deal!” He says with a slurred tone. “I think you need some medical help” Seth offers as he gently grabs JD's left arm. “We'll help take you there” Drew offers as well as he grabs JD's other arm.

They help him up off the floor with JD struggling to stay standing. “Thanks guys but I can walk there myself” JD says as he sways from left to right. Seth and Drew look at each other with concerned looks. “Babe, you can barely stand” Seth says, concerned. “You also sound like you had a few pints at the bar” Drew points out. “I told you two I'm…” JD doesn't finish before he collapses on the floor unconscious. The last thing he hears is both men yelling his name. 

The next time JD comes to, he feels something warm and fuzzy against his face. He feels someone gently scratching his scalp. He moves around a bit to get comfortable and he hears a quiet giggle above him. He opens his eyes and sees his vision is back to normal but also realizes he's laying on Seth's chest. “Good morning teacup” Seth says sweetly as he leans down and kisses JD. “Is it really morning?” JD asks curiously with a blush. “No, you passed out for thirty minutes and we took you to medical during that” Seth explains as he sits up and puts JD in his lap.

The door opens and Drew walks in with a pill bottle, a mini cooler and a handheld mirror. “Looks like our teacup is awake! How you feeling love?” Drew asks as he walks over to the two men and gives JD a kiss as well. “Like my head is on fire and I think I have a bruise on my head” JD explains as he reaches for his forehead but gets his hand gently slapped by Seth. “It's best not to touch it hon” Seth warns him nicely. “Why not? It's just a bruise right?” JD asks curiously. 

“Best to see it for yourself love” Drew says carefully as he hands JD the mirror. JD looks into the mirror and his eyes widen. What he thought was just a bruise was actually a giant purple goose egg on the side of his forehead. “Oh my god” JD says in a panicked tone as he starts shaking. “Don't panic teacup! It's just a bump!” Drew says as he holds JD's hands. Seth wraps his arms around JD's waist as a way to calm him down. “It's ok sweetheart, it's ok” Seth says quietly in JD's ear. 

It takes JD a few minutes to stop shaking and calm down. “Are you feeling better now teacup?” Seth asks kindly, JD nodding in response. “Can we take care of you now?” Drew asks, JD nodding to that as well. They both give him a kiss on the cheek as Drew pulls out an ice pack from the cooler. “The ice pack will help with the swelling and probably help with your headache” Drew explains as he gently presses the ice pack to JD's forehead. 

“Drew, you can't hold that ice pack forever! That's why I came prepared!” Seth says happily as he pulls out a seafoam green cloth headband from his pocket. “You remembered my favorite color?” JD asks curiously as Seth puts the headband on his head, holding the ice pack in place. “It's the same color as your collar isn't it?” Drew asks with a laugh. “You think we didn't know what your favorite color was?” Seth asks a bit sadly. 

“Well, we usually never hang out at work cause we do our own thing and we only hang out at home when Daddy is around” JD says truthfully, which shocks both men. “Oh my god, we're awful husbands” Drew says with his head in his hands. “Yeah we're definitely changing that because you are not staying by yourself anymore” Seth says a bit too loudly which hurts JD's head. “Can you quiet down a bit? My head still hurts like hell” JD says with a whimper. “Oops, sorry teacup!” Seth whispers as Drew pulls out a water bottle from the cooler.

“These will definitely help with the headache” Drew offers as he takes two pills from the bottle. “Are your hands clean? Cause I've seen you scratch your crotch when you wear your kilt” JD says which causes Seth to laugh and Drew to blush. “That was one time!” Drew argues back with the blush running down his neck. “It's all the time Drew but I forgive you!” JD says with a laugh as he takes the pills from Drew's hand, swallows the pills with the water and gives Drew a kiss on the cheek. 

“Jesus christ you're adorable” Drew says affectionately. “I know! Anyways, how did yall know I got injured tonight?” JD asks curiously. “Daddy saw what happened on TV and called us the moment your match ended because he was worried about you” Seth explains as he traces stars on JD's arm. “He thought that Finn would attack you or something… he didn't, did he?” Drew asks worryingly. “No, opposite really! He told me to go to medical myself after I asked if he could take me” JD answers, causing both men to growl. 

“He didn't help you at all? What a prick!” Drew says angrily. “I should break his fucking shoulder again just for the hell of it!” Seth says with an evil grin. “Before you guys go off and commit unnecessary murder can we nap? My match left me burnt out” JD says with a yawn, melting both men's hearts. “You're right teacup, Drew you mind hitting the lights and door?” Seth asks nicely as he lays back down with JD laying on his chest. 

“Already on it” Drew says as he locks the door and turns off the light. He walks back over and lays next to Seth on the couch. JD gets himself comfortable on Seth's chest as Drew wraps his arm around the two of them. They both watch as JD falls asleep and his breathing evens out. “He looks so small next to us, now I know why Daddy calls him Clover” Drew says with a quiet laugh. “He is the resident baby out of all of us which means he needs the most protecting” Seth says as he tucks some hair behind JD's ear. 

“So we both agree that we're gonna watch him more at work and absolutely fucking murder Finn next time we sew him?” Drew asks curiously. “Oh absolutely! That tiny little gremlin ain't hurting teacup anymore” Seth says confidently. “God, I love you” Drew says with a smile. “Love you too you big lug now go to sleep” Seth says quietly as he kisses Drew deeply and closes his eyes. Drew closes his eyes as well as both men wrap their arms protectively around JD. The two biggest and bravest flowers will protect their clover from the rain.

[crazyunsexycool]

Unbreakable

Chapter 4

pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: just a bit of blood, mostly fluff

A/N: It's been a while since I updated for these two but I've been in a mood to write for Steve so here we are. Just a short-ish and kind of filler chapter.

series masterlist

Steve had never spent more time deciding what to wear than at this very moment. He was just going to do a nice shirt and jeans but then you texted him to dress comfy. Now he just stared at his closet unsure of what to do. 

“Need some help old man?” Nat broke the silence in Steve’s apartment. 

“When did you get here?” 

“A few minutes ago.” She says as she walks and plops down on his bed. 

“I didn’t hear the door.” 

“Who says I used the door?” 

“I gave you a key so you would stop breaking in.” Steve says as he looks over his shoulder. “You better fix the bed before you leave.” 

“Sir yes sir.” Nat salutes. “Where are you going?”

Steve sighs and turns fully to look at Nat. His hands go to his hips as he explains. “Y/N and I are going to have a movie night. Her idea after I explained that Sam and I used to watch movies to help me catch up on what I missed. She sent me a text a few minutes ago that says to dress comfortably.” 

“Did she say it like that?”

“She said ‘dress comfy’.”

“Ok so wear something that could work as pajamas.” Nat says as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Absolutely not.” 

Nat rolls her eyes but gets up. She grabs a white henley, dark gray joggers and a pair of white sneakers. 

“There you go. You can throw a hoodie over it or even your leather jacket.” 

“Uh, thanks.” 

“You’re welcome. I’m gonna crash on your couch.” Nat says as she walks out so Steve can get dressed. 

Steve was very nervous. He knew you had been through something horrible and thus had lost trust in other people. It was obvious from just your body language. Yet here he was given the opportunity to get to know you better. It was an opportunity that he wasn’t going to take for granted. While he found you beautiful and interesting and he would like to pursue a relationship he wasn’t going to push it. Whatever happened would be at your pace.

With a bag of snacks and pastries in hand Steve stopped at the door to your building and pressed the buzzer for your apartment. 

“Who is it?” Your voice slightly shaky.

Steve perked up. Something was wrong and he could tell just by your voice. 

“Y/N, it’s Steve.” 

“Oh thank god.” You mutter as you let him in. 

He isn’t sure what’s going on but he takes the steps two at a time until he gets to your apartment on the third floor. Steve knocks and hears some shuffling around.

“It’s me, Steve.” He announces.

Steve can hear the four different deadbolts unlock before he sees a sliver of your face before you disappear again. There’s the sound of a chain sliding and then the door opens fully. You step to the side and usher him in. 

“What happened?” Steve asks as he takes in the cut over your nose and the bleeding. He also notices the lack of glasses on your face. 

“I tripped and my glasses flew off somewhere and I’ve been trying to find them but I can’t see almost anything.” You sniffle. “While I tried to find them I tripped again and hurt myself.” 

“Ok. Why don’t you sit down first? Can I help you to your couch?” 

You nod and feel Steve’s hand take yours. His strong calloused hands are so gentle with you. He helped you to your couch where Marvin promptly sat at your feet. Steve kneels and checks you over to make sure you aren’t hurt anywhere else.

“Where did you trip when you lost your glasses?” 

“In my room. They might be under the bed. Marvin keeps crouching and whining next to it.”

“Is it ok if I go in there and look for them?”

You just nod and Steve gets up. He shuffles around your room, you can even hear the bed shifting. A few moments later you see a very blurry shape in front of you. With glasses on you blink in a few times before focusing on Steve. He offers you a lopsided grin. 

“My hero.” You smile as he blushes.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” 

“Yeah, let me get it.” 

“No it’s ok. Just tell me where it is and I’ll bring it over.” 

“Bathroom, under the sink.” 

He smiles again and heads towards the bathroom. When he comes back he has the kit under one arm and a bag in the other.

“I brought some snacks.” He lifts up the bag before setting it on the coffee table. “Alright, let’s get you cleaned up. Is it ok if I help you?” 

You smiled at how caring he was being. Making sure to not overstep any boundaries. You nod and take off your glasses so that he can clean the cut on your nose. He’s gentle when cleaning up the blood and putting ointment on the cut before finishing off with a bandaid in place. 

“Do you have a headache or anything like that?” 

“No but my nose and lip hurt. There should be some painkillers in there.” 

Steve rummages around until he finds what you want and hands you two tablets. Then he gets up and finds a water bottle for you. 

“Thank you.” You say after taking the pills. 

“You’re welcome. Did you want to do this some other time?” 

“No.” You said too quickly. In all honesty you had been looking forward to this night. “Please stay, unless you actually want to leave then it’s ok.” 

“No, I’d very much like to stay.” 

You smiled at each other like awkward teenagers on their first date. 

“So do you want to get started with movies and snacks or should we order food?” You ask. 

“Let’s order food.”

“Thai?” 

Steve still hadn’t come around to trying Thai food but he was willing to go for it after seeing your hopeful eyes. 

“I’d be willing to try it.” 

“I’m sorry, what? You’ve never tried it before?” 

Steve just shakes his head as he watches you grab your phone and start typing away until you pull up a menu. You start listing food items and explaining what they are. In the end you end up getting some of everything. 

“Ok what movie should we start with?” Steve asks as he gets comfortable on the couch. 

“I thought about this all week.” 

“You did?” He raised a brow and gave you an amused smile.

“Yup and there’s only one answer. Legally Blonde.” 

“I’ve never heard of it but I trust your choice.”

“Good because I wasn’t going to give you a choice.” You giggle as you start the movie and get comfortable. 

“The boss was the worst but her ex was such a jerk.” Steve says as the movie ends. 

“I know right and he wasn’t even that good at anything to begin with.” 

You grab the empty containers of food you’d ordered and pile them up when you see Steve pull out a small notebook. He scribbled something on it before he looked up to see you watching him.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter and you scurry off to the kitchen to get rid of everything in your arms.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He says from behind you. “This is just a notebook I use to keep track of what I need to catch up on.”

“And legally blonde was on your list?” 

Steve chuckles but shakes his head. 

“Trying Thai food was.” 

“Oh, and what’s the verdict?” 

“I liked it, definitely going to be having it again.”

You smile up at Steve while Marvin stands between you both and huffs a ‘woof’ and turns in a circle.

“Is he ok?” 

“Yeah, he just needs to go outside.” You look at your watch. “This is when we usually go for a night time walk.” 

“I should probably get going then.”

“Oh, so soon?” 

“Yeah, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” He gives you a sheepish smile. 

“Nonsense, come with us and then we can cross another movie off your list afterward.” 

“Really? You don’t mind?” 

“Absolutely not. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” 

“Ok well, lead the way.” 

****

Outside of your building Marvin is visibly excited for his nighttime walk but he knows better than to pull on his leash. 

“Alright Marv, let’s go.” You say as you step onto the sidewalk with Steve. Ever the gentleman he stands between you and the road and even offers you his arm, which to your own surprise, you take.

“So what is this thing you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Do you remember when we talked on the phone and I told you about this woman from my support group?” 

“Yeah, what about her? Is she in some sort of trouble?” 

“No not at all,” you shake your head as you stop and wait for Marvin to sniff around. “She had suggested an idea to help me move forward, to help me in my recovery.”

“Ok?” 

“She said that when she first got out of her own situation that she learned how to shoot a gun.” You felt Steve stiffen beside you immediately. “Don’t worry I don’t want to use or own a gun but I wanted to learn how to, you know, maybe throw a punch or something and I was wondering if maybe you could help me. If it’s not too much trouble of course. I know you’re a busy man so it’s ok if you say no.” 

“Hey,” Steve patted the hand that was holding on to his arm gently. “I’d love to help you out. I think Nat would be willing to help too.” 

Why did it suddenly feel like your heart was weighed down by lead. Of course he would have someone special in his life, look at him. She was probably beautiful and amazing and not fucked up like you were.

“It would actually be helpful if she helped you. She fights people that are bigger than her all the time so I know she’ll have more pointers and of course you can use me as your guinea pig.” He smiled at you before grabbing his phone and sending off a quick text. 

“So is Nat like a self defense instructor or something?”

“No, why would you- oh,” Steve chuckles a bit. “I meant Natasha Romanoff as in Black Widow. Sorry, I forget that people don’t really know her by her name.” 

“Oh.” 

Steve looks down at his phone again and smiles. “She said she’d love to. You’ll love her, she's a badass but very kind.” 

****

Marvin does his business and you finish the walk around the block before you’re back at your apartment. 

“Alright Rogers, we watched Legally blonde which was my pick now it’s your turn.” 

Steve pulls out his little notebook again and flips a few pages. “What about…” he flips another page. “The Mummy?” 

You stare at him, mouth wide open. 

“What? Is that a bad movie?” 

“Is that a bad movie? It’s only one of the best movies ever. Rick O’Connell is one of my favorite characters!” 

Marvin barks in agreement from his spot. Steve smiles, amused at your passionate outburst. 

“Ok, I’m sorry I didn’t know.” 

“But you’ll learn and when we’re done you’ll wonder why you didn’t see it sooner. Get comfy.” You grab the control and search until you find what you want. Steve sits down next to you. 

“Alright let's get this movie started.”

****

“You were right.” Steve says as the credits roll. “That was a good movie.” 

“I know. Would you watch it again?”

“Yeah, I could definitely watch it again.”

“Awesome. We’ll have to watch this one and the sequel for one of the next movie nights.” You say as you grab a little notepad you keep on the coffee table and a pen, then scribble down your plan. 

Steve smiles at the thought of being able to spend another evening with you like this. He’d definitely like that. But for now he should head home, it’s late and he can see how sleepy you already are. 

“Let me know when you want to start those self defense lessons ok?”

“As soon as you and Nat can.” You say as you watch Steve get up and then stretch. He gives you a nod and a smile. 

“I should definitely head out now. But thank you for tonight, I don’t think I could ever explain how much it means to me.” 

“Trust me, I understand more than you think. We should definitely do this again soon.” You say as you stand at the door and lean against it. Steve bends down to pat Marvin’s head. 

“I’d like that. Goodnight Y/N, call me if you need anything at all.”

“I will but only if you do the same.” 

Steve gives you a lopsided grin and nods then turns to head down the hallway. Once he’s disappeared down the stairs you close the door and lean your back against it, sighing dreamily as you think about the next time you’ll see him again. 

Ch. 5

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Series taglist:

@sjsmith56

[inesajankauskas]

Temptations

I was in a room, a random room, full of bunkbeds, friends, and a few adults. It felt as if it was a summer camp or trip with a bunch of people I knew. Everyone was running around, playing, taking pictures, and talking. It felt like I was walking on clouds in a room lit with warm toned lights, white fluffy beds, and joy all around. A few boys I knew from before college, that attend the college now, came up to me to take a picture. I could feel one of their arms around my shoulders and the other’s cheek on mine. It felt all so real. It felt as if I was in a movie where the next scene just switched in picture. I was randomly somewhere else.

A few of us had went to Kroger to grab some snacks and drinks for the room. The boys I took a picture with smiled and waved as they walked to check out a pack of Gatorade. I was oddly glued to my phone walking around in Kroger. I was walking so much that I found myself walking into Walmart. Once I realized how far I walked, I went back to Kroger to retrieve my car. The odd thing about the two stores was that they were placed one-by-one in front and behind each other. The parking lots were connected. I walked all throughout the Walmart and Kroger lot looking for my car. I couldn’t find it, so I decided to do another loop around while hitting my lock key for my car to make a chirp and light up. But my car wasn’t chirping. Every single car that was owned by Volkswagen was lighting up and chirping. Each time I hit the lock button, a new Volkswagen would chirp.

I finally found a red Jetta GLI, just like my car, but it was a hatchback. The car was a little larger than mine and was a bright red. Then a woman appeared. She was black, almost light-skin, so maybe mixed. She had big, long, greyish-brown, outgrown dreadlocks, and wore hippie clothing with stone jewelry and a satanic star necklace. I can still see her face now. She appeared as a witchy type of woman, someone you would see out of a New Orleans film. She was circling the car as I opened its door. She kept saying, looking me dead in the eyes,

“Your car is mine, your car is mine.”

I could feel something wrong and screamed,

“I REBUKE YOU IN THE NAME OF THE LORD JESUS CHRIST! I REBUKE YOU! THIS IS MY CAR, NOT YOURS! I REBUKE!”

As I got in the car to drive away, she stood there watching me, facing me. I was looking out the rear view mirror until she was only a blurry spec. She kept standing there. I felt pain and anxiety reaching up my throat, scraping any moisture from it. I felt like screaming but my mouth stayed closed.

I called my mom freaking out about my car being stolen as I pulled into a parking lot to a house. I walked in and it felt as a warm room, similar to the one with the bunkbeds that was filled with my friends. It had similar lights and white everywhere. The front desk felt welcoming unlike ones in real life, like the ones in hospitals or offices. There was a plump woman at the front desk with a pretty smile welcoming me in. I went to her and explained what had happened,

“My car was stolen in the Kroger-Walmart parking lot. I was looking everywhere for it, but I couldn’t find it. It was so odd, my key kept working for every Volkswagen in the lot!”

She giggled and explained that there are faults with some keys on the Volkswagens to where they work on multiple cars. She assured me it was nothing and let me continue. I went on,

“And there was an older woman there. She was taller than me, light-skinned black, long dreadlocks, hippie clothes, satanic jewelry. She was circling the red car I took to get here. She was saying that my car was hers and wouldn’t stop repeating it.”

I felt the room go quiet, more silent than it already was. The woman was no longer smiling and looked as if she saw a ghost. Her face was so flat and unalive, I felt scared looking at her. I turned around to a very tall white woman. Her skin was so light with warm, sun-kissed undertones. She had the rosiest cheeks and brightest blue eyes. Her hair was just as light and blonde in a bob sort of cut. She wore yellow and white clothes. Her face wasn’t flat and scary, but it had concern. She said to me,

“That woman is sent by the devil because you have been letting in your temptations when you know it is wrong. Whatever you have done, you have to stop letting in your temptations. The woman knows exactly what you have done wrong, but there is a way to fix it. You must go to her and admit your faults, ask for forgiveness from God, and rebuke her back to hell. It is the only way to get her to leave, and the only way to save yourself. For she will cause hell on earth to you until your time comes. Then she will take you down to hell herself for an eternity of pain.”

I could have sworn my throat couldn’t have gotten dryer. I could feel the the air getting stuck in between the cracks of my dry throat. I didn’t say anything to her. I just knew she knew what I chose to do. The old woman pulled up in my car, my black Jetta GLI. She was in the drivers seat, looking straight ahead, smoking something foul with the window cracked just a bit. I got in the car and admitted what I did. I said,

“I know what I have done and I ask GOD to forgive me. I ask that HE helps me through this and HE forgives me.”

The older woman didn’t take a glance at me and kept driving forward. I tried hitting the SOS button on my car to call the cops and take her away, but nothing was happening. I knew what I had to do, I had to fight her. Usually in dreams, when you try to punch something, your hand goes weak. It feels like you’re trying to lift a cinderblock attached to your hand. But this fight was different. I was punching and I could feel my strength. It was the most mind twisting, scariest thing I had ever witnessed. Her face was distorting with every hit and each time I went for her eyes, I could feel liquid shooting from them. Her face was distorting so much with each punch, grab, and pull that I took she looked unreal. Her face was intact but malformed. I wasn’t fearful, though. As she got more distorted, the more I could feel it being over. I was screaming, punching, hardly breathing saying,

“I REBUKE YOU IN THE NAME OF THE LORD!”

There was so much tension and chaos in my head that it was a shock to be in the drivers seat. My hands were on the wheel in park. I looked to my right out the passenger window and saw everyone in the house-office building standing outside. Some of them held their palms together, others smiled, but the tall blonde was smiling with her hands in a prayer position resting on her chin.

Then, I woke up. I could hardly breathe. It felt like in the movies when a character wakes up from a nightmare. They jolt up, breathing heavy, grasping their heart. That is exactly what I had done.

View my mood board for this short story to get better visuals.

[shadow-bringer-ao3]

Edo Tensei and it's Equivalents

3.

This time, Wuxian won't be summoned by a faulty seal- he's long since learned which parts of the seal latch onto his otherworldly friend. No, he's summoning Wuxian on purpose this time because it's the only way to get someone he trusts to his location in time. Tobirama stumbles a few more paces from the site of his fight, limbs numb from blood loss, and trips over something that might be a root or a plant or a bloody limb. His sight is blurring, graying out at the edges. It's been a long time since he was last in such bad a condition; probably not since that first time he summoned Wuxian. He knows he won't be able to make it back like this and like hell will anyone friendly manage to stumble across him. His luck's not that good. So, instead of trying and getting himself killed, he fumbles a summoning scroll from his belt with stiff, cold fingers. He nearly drops it twice, can barely manage to unroll the damn thing.

He's never let anyone touch the scroll, hasn't even when it earns him Butsuma's ire or Hashirama's pouts or Touka's dangerous curiosity or the elders' analytical glares. He thinks he's grateful for his possessiveness, now. He can't really tell. Everything seems... so far away. Distant and foggy. He doesn't bother biting or cutting his thumb- there's plenty of fresh blood already on him. He pours as much chakra as he can (not very much; not enough) into the seal and hopes it will be enough because if it isn't...

If it isn't, and Wuxian doesn't come, Tobirama fears he will die here, in this bloody clearing. Hashirama isn't nearly as fragile as he once was but he still doesn't want to put his anija through the loss of his last remaining brother. It would tear Hashirama apart, just like it would tear Tobirama apart if he lost Hashirama.

He blacks out before he knows the results of his last desperate measure.

He's not sure how long he spends drifting between unconsciousness and the verge of consciousness but the moment he's aware enough to realize that he's still alive, he knows his summoning worked. Well, either that or he's officially the luckiest person in the Elemental Nations. From then, it takes simultaneously too much and too little time for his chakra and blood to recuperate enough for him to force himself into full consciousness. It takes a few blinks for his eyesight to actually work, his first look being blurry and dark. The ceiling of a cave is the first thing he sees when he comes to, golden with sunlight and the light of fire as shadows dance in the corners of his vision. There's the sound of cloth on cloth and Tobirama immediately matches it to the unwieldy clothing of his friend (can they be counted as friends after so few meetings?) wears. He lets his head lull to the side lazily and Wuxian finally comes into view. Wuxian is watching him intently and he meets the familiar silver eyes fearlessly. While the other smiles, Tobirama can see the edges of rage lurking in the corners of his lips, the light of his eyes. Tobirama frowns as he pushes himself into a sitting position, ignoring the way his vision wavers dangerously. There's a darkness around Wuxian that had been missing before, just this side of killing intent. Wuxian looks tired, not quite sickly, and he's not dressed in the royal purples or soft whites that he had worn the first two times they met. He doesn't have his sword either, Tobirama realizes, and while that shouldn't be concerning, it is in a way he can't explain.

"Wuxian," Tobirama greets cautiously. Wuxian's smile is strained, forced.

"Tobi-er." The return is laced with cheer so false it's almost painful.

"...Are you-" Wuxian's eyes flash unnatural red and his mask falls, the other's features turning sharp and angry although Tobirama is sure it isn't really pointed at him. The darkness presses down at him, making him tense.

"Don't," Wuxian says firmly. When Tobirama nods, the mask snaps back into place, fragile and just as easy to see through as it was. "Words?" Wuxian sounds so hesitantly hopeful that Tobirama acquiesces easily. He won't push Wuxian until he's sure the other can take it. They pick up where they left off, methodically working through the basics of their languages. The shared written language, even if Tobirama's language has two more added alphabets, makes it easier than it otherwise would be. Still, by nightfall, they're both antsy. Tobirama needs to return to the Senju Compound and he's sure Wuxian has to return to his own people. His chakra is recovered enough that he's confident in his ability to return at least relatively safely. However, Tobirama hesitates, glancing out the cave entrance into the dark of the night. Wuxian is watching him carefully, almost fragile, in a way, when he turns back. The fragility has disappeared over the length of their conversation, to see it return is jarring.

"Stay the night?" He asks quietly, slowly, so his words come across clearly. Even though his friend hesitates in agreeing, Tobirama can see the relief etched into his bones. More time to rest and more chakra is far from a bad thing, he supposes. They fall asleep slowly that night, both on edge, but they sleep side by side, pressing together for warmth and the pretense of safety. The night is warm and his sleep better than it rightfully should be.

"Tobi-er," Wuxian says quietly, waking him up. Tobirama hums, cracking his eyes open. The fire had gone out at some point, a chill seeping back into the cave. Wuxian is crouched above him, eyes sharp in a way he recognizes intimately. Instantly, he's alert, tense and on edge. He rolls smoothly to his feet and just begins casting his chakra out to sense (why had he been so stupid? To let his guard fall so far in a time of war-) when the entrance to their cave is darkened by a trio of people. Three shinobi- and Uchiha at that. Damn. He shares a glance with Wuxian and, remembering the sword from the other's last visit, makes a plan as he lunges to his feet. He unsheathes his sword and tosses it to Wuxian, also on his feet, drawing a pair of kunai for himself. They don't bother to stay and fight, instead just forcing their way out into the light of early dawn. Tobirama takes to the trees, only pausing when dark energy (so cloying and thick and he remembers this, or something close to it, when stumbling across a kitsune the size of a mountain) nearly makes his slip with its sudden appearance. He glances back to see Wuxian, wreathed in black energy and smoke, sword in hand and Uchiha standing warily across from him.

"Wuxian," he snaps, panic rising. Something is going on here that he does not like, does not want to happen.

"Go," Wuxian says sharply. Tobirama wants to argue, to stay and help, but the darkness surrounding Wuxian surges, consuming the other for the barest moment, making the air heavy and thick in his lungs. The message is loud and clear- Tobirama will leave or Wuxian will force him to. Wuxian tosses a glance over his shoulder as the Uchiha try to recover, darkness still pressing down so heavily on them all. Wuxian's eyes are red and just as dark as the power he wields. A power that is hungry, eager to devour them.

"Zai jian, Tobirama," the man says with a finality that makes him nervous; nervous and scared and unable to argue. Tobirama leaves without looking back.

— — — —

"Zai jian" - goodbye

Part 2 | Part 4

[lovefordyingstars]

take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die

death (mentioned), blood word count // 600 series // kingdom of myth characters // cordelia, constantine

It had taken three months to get a lead on the missing students, and the first one they’d found had been nothing but a dead body in a warehouse. Now the trail was cold once more. As Cordelia stared down at the letters from her father she wondered if he’d ever felt so dejected. 

So useless. 

Her eyes were blurry, focused only on his auroras and sad prose. He had a habit of including random lines of poetry in his writing, lines he suspected she might enjoy, it always made her smile in the past, but now she felt the words mocking her.

I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet, 'cause I haven't moved in years

She felt it now, the roots growing over her like she was stuck in place, there was nothing but a chasm in her heart that stretched forever and made her feel lost to time. Her walls were covered in news articles and missing person posters, scraps of paper with leads scribbled on them and napkins pinned up with ideas. 

“Don’t give up on me now Vesp.” Constantine's voice was like a pair of shears, cutting all the weeds holding her down. 

“Not giving up, just thinking.” she snipped, the sun was going to be setting in little under an hour, why was he visiting her now? 

“Good, then come on.” Whatever expression she made had him chuckling, a fist knocking against her door frame as he turned around. “We’re going to the lake, over the hills, I’ll explain why when we get there.” 

Who was she to argue against his whims? 

She complained the whole trip there.

The sun was dipping below the horizon as they reached the top of the valley, the tops named the Windermere peaks for the way the winds caught against them, and often made pleasant hums during particular times of the day.

The crystal lake sat in the middle, so clear that despite going hundreds of feet down, you could see almost to the bottom from even atop the hills.

"Down there, let's stop at the shore." 

"Oh yes, let's sit down where sea monsters are waiting to grab us by the ankles," she complained but followed him down the slope. They had to watch each step carefully.

"Technically, lake monsters," he countered and she snorted, but whatever retort would be made was lost as the rocks from beneath them both gave out. 

What would have been a fun climb down turned into tumbling and cursing as they tried to regain footing with the ground crashing around them. Whatever magic might have been used would have been impossible with Cordelia's concentration on not breaking her neck. 

When they finally stopped her arm was laying in the cool water of the lake. Constantine coughed, but it quickly turned into a ragged laugh. "Guess we took the express route." 

Cor groaned, the water was becoming muddy with her blood from all the cuts, and Coss didn't look much better with blood flowing down his temple and hands. 

"You have a horrible sense of humor," she sat up and took a deep breath, deciding to use the water or the lake to cleanse the wounds. The water was uncontaminated, so other than water lake monsters were polluting it, they'd be fine. 

Probably. 

They worked in silence for a while, the winds humming, the sounds of the water splashing against them, and their own deep breaths. It was peaceful. 

"So why'd you bring me here?" She finally asked after they'd been laying in the fading sun for a while, Coss using his magic to slowly heal their cuts and bruises.

"This is why, not to make you fall, though it was a bonus." She hit him for that and he fell back with a smile. "But to get you out of your own head, you've been so focused on this case that you've started to spiral, this is me, helping." She smiled and laid back next to him, watching the last bit of light disappear from the sky. He had a weird way of helping.

[anoseforrottenapples]

Too tired from his own transcontinental flight, especially since the time change is not working in his favor, Troy just grimaces at Ricki’s grumbled protest before rolling his eyes toward the detective. “It means if you want one of your big crooks down here, you’ve got a good chance of getting eyes on him in LA.” He grumbles.

As Ricki realizes the coffee pot is empty on top of everything else, Troy gets another round of her sleep-deprived ire. “How do you think I feel?” He grumpily shoots back. “The powers-that-be had me reporting to London three days ago, then back to LA, through New York. Last night they phone me up and tell me to take the night flight to Miami. My brain gave up figuring out what time it was two days ago, and I’ve near-on been living on airline coffee and peanuts since…” he blinks owlishly, and gives up grasping such rudimentary concepts as ‘dates’ and ‘calendars’. He inelegantly fishes his thought, “Since whenever.” Troy feels like he has already passed into the Twilight Zone. Honestly, if Rod Stirling comes out of Lieutenant Castillo’s office instead of the man himself, Troy will not even be surprised at this point. As Tubbs accepts her fate though, her tone eases. As she relaxes, Troy gives into the instincts to rub the heel of his hand into eyes, as if such a simple gesture will somehow remove some of the redness from them, and ease up the tinges of blurriness hanging onto his vision. The problem with liaising with American police departments as a representative of the United Kingdom is that his bosses always underestimate how bloody big the United States is. They glance at a map, and casually wonder why he cannot just… pingpong between Miami, Los Angles, and New York City with ease. No matter how many times he explains to them that nearly four thousand kilometers separate the various destinations, they simply cannot grasp the concept. Perhaps if they ever left the plush offices in London, and traveled over here… well… maybe then they would understand… Trailing after Tubbs, he yawns and shrugs his shoulders in a bid to work out the knots. He can hopefully sleep on the flight back to Los Angeles. “We think it might be. Remember that South American guy we were chasing—the one that holds citizenship in about eight different countries, but likes to live in the Bahamas? Colas Bautista? Big cocaine guy? Well, guess who rolled into LA while I was in England, to talk to some film producers? The cops there think they can do him on something minor like a broken taillight, and use that to check his record. Then they can arrest him… but they know Miami wants him too, so they figured you all would want in. He’s a major leak to get stuff into England too… but England has so many leaks that it has been hard to plug this one up. That’s why we’re getting involved, and I get to play messenger boy.” He yawns as he finishes the basic explanation, almost tripping over his own feet as he follows Ricki out to the waiting taxicab.

♒--From Troy (NoseforRottenApples)

"Awe, man." When the English brass comes a knocking in Miami to drag you to LA, that could only mean ONE thing. Her nose crinkles, her face souring, as she grabs for her coat. "I hate you." She gripes, not truly meaning a word of it.

With a dour scowl cast downwards, she makes another miserable discovery. None of the thick black, tepid brew lingered in the clear glass pot. This is clearly NOT her day. "Ain't no one ever told you not to make courtesy calls at six o'clock sharp?" She rumbles. Wistfully, she rubs at her fatigue-laced eyes.

Shrugging her jacket over her shoulders and locking up, her tone softens considerably. "Must be something awful important, if Castillo okayed my absence. Since ya already have me awake, why don't you tell me about it?"

@anoseforrottenapples

[neolovesneo]

LIGHT OF MY DARK WORLD.

boyfriend!mark | fluff | boyfriend au | cw: fears of the dark & thunder

note ; there's a reference to 'nothing' by bruno major in this, but it's actually based on the lyrics of 'lights' by got7's yugyeom , aka soty!!!! the lyrics make me cry LOL so i had to write this

taglist ; @soobin-chois (lmk in comments, asks, or dms if you’d like to be added to my taglist! ^^)

Thanks to a sudden blackout that was unexpected but not unwelcomed, your apartment was completely pitch black.

Which probably explains why it's taking Mark such a long time to get to your shared bedroom.

"Markie? Hurry up, I'm waiting!" you called out impatiently, fingers tapping against the top of your battery-run radio.

You head your boyfriend huff loudly, stumbling over something and almost tripping.

"I hope you know that it's very difficult to walk through the dark without glasses and bad eyesight." he complains.

"Can't relate," you tease as you finally hear him enter the room and walk up to you. "I didn't stay up secretly reading Harry Potter under the blankets as a child."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." he deadpans, chuckling.

Reciprocating his laugh, you peck his cheek before running your fingers over the front of your radio, each button and its function long burned into your memory out of familiarity.

"I'll play a Bruno Major CD, is that okay?" you asked, fiddling with the radio as you tried to load the disk.

Mark offers a hum in response, arms wrapping around your waist from the back as he rests his head on your shoulder. He's squinting as he tries to figure out what you were doing through his blurry vision.

"You know, you sound really excited to dance in the dark for someone who's usually scared of it." Mark notes, recalling how you would get really quiet and clingy in the dark.

"Oh, I'm not scared of the dark anymore," you laughed airily, dismissing his note with a wave of your hand. The other one hits the 'Play' button on the radio.

Almost immediately, 'Nothing' starts to play, scratchy intro of the heart-swelling song filling up your dark apartment.

"Really? That's not what you were saying last week during the thunderstorm though." he teases.

"That was different." you retort, scoffing. "Thunder was involved, and I'm still scared of that."

Mark can only laugh at how adorably stubborn you are when it comes to admitting your fears, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The feeling of his soft lips against your skin makes you smile, melting into Mark's embrace.

And you wonder if he knows that he's the reason you weren't scared of the dark anymore, and you were sure that you'd get over your fear of thunder soon with him around.

The tight hugs in bed while he rubbed your back and reminded you that there was nothing to be scared of, the warmth of his hands in yours as he pressed small kisses to your knuckles and whispered funny stories to distract you, everything.

Little by little, Mark had totally transformed your fear of the dark into nothing but trust, calmness, and an endless love to be with him all night.

He colored you warm - even your surroundings - and you no longer were the frail, gray canvas you were, brave yellows and peaceful blues replacing them instead.

"And besides," you whisper, wrapping your arms around Mark's waist.

"You're the light of my dark world, so even when the night comes, I'm not afraid."

© neolovesneo, 2022.

[luminari-mc]

(Mammon x MC/Reader)

Prompt: "She doesn't compare to you. No one does.”

Genre: Angst, hurt(emotional)/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC/Reader x Mammon

Summary: You and Mammon finally get to enjoy a well-deserving shopping trip just between the two of you. Just as you are about to hit the next shop, your attention is caught by an image advertised in the street.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: I wanted to try my hands at a prompt that is tagged as "fluff", but of course I ended up turning it into something angsty instead. But I like sad stuff, so that still works for me.

-------------------------------------------

It wasn't often that you got to spend time with Mammon without having any of his brothers around to bother you. But you had made it very clear to them that these few hours after school would be spent with Mammon, and only him. And for today's trip, you two had decided to go shopping in one of the busiest streets in the Devildom.

Clothes and jewelry stores, malls- you had done them all. When most of this time had been spent doing window shopping, Mammon had still insisted on getting at least a few bags of purchased goods for each of you by the end of the day. After all, what was the point of going on a shopping trip, if you didn't end up emptying your bank account only to regret it later?

And so, thanks to the demon's wonderful influence, your arms had now several bags hanging off of them. There was a certain guilt still looming over your head as you realized way overboard you might have gotten with your purchases, but Mammon promised he would take care of any financial problems you could encounter in the near future because of that. You still wondered how he was going to manage it, him being Mammon and all...

"Damn, now THAT'S what I call a good haul! Look at ya!" The white-haired demon grinned as he watch you hop out of the store, the glass doors opening automatically at your presence to let you out. He placed his wrists on his hips as his own bags dangled in his hands. "What'cha got for yourself this time?"

"They actually had that jacket I saw in a magazine the other day!" The doors closed behind you as you showed the white bag which contained the jacket. "You were right, that store was amazing. I can't believe you never showed it to me before."

"Ha! Told ya the Great Mammon knew where the best treasures were! Consider it an exclusive info, because I ain't gonna share more if any of my brothers are around next time." Mammon turned around before flipping a few of his bags over his shoulder, as you instantly began to trot to get to his level.

"What? So all this time you knew about it and you didn't tell me? Just because Asmo comes with us sometimes?" You expressed shock, right before your eyebrows joined together. "Really, as if you couldn't have told me over text or something."

"And have you go without me?! Nah, ain't gonna happen- you'd just get lost and end up in the worst store possible." Mammon glanced your way, and you could only smirk at his poor excuse.

"Sure, you're right. I forgot that humans don't have the same flawless sense of orientation as demons do." Despite your obviously sarcastic tone, Mammon didn't seem to register it as he nodded at your words.

"Exactly! Even if I gave you the full address, who knows where you'd end up? I don't want ya to come and complain to me afterwards, so it's gotta be with me or nothin'."

Even as you rolled your eyes, you noticed Mammon's face slightly turning away from yours, probably to hide the extra shade of color that had appeared on his cheeks ever so discreetly. Even when he was in his usual tsundere mood, it was endearing to see how concerned he was for your safety. And just how badly he wanted to be alone with you.

"So, where to next?" You asked without really thinking, surprising yourself that even after your extensive purchasing, you still wanted to do more. Or maybe it was that you didn't want this date to end right away. The past few weeks had been nothing but the brothers interrupting each other when any of them found themselves alone with you, so getting to spend some alone time with one of them, especially with Mammon, deserved to be extended a bit more.

"Glad ya asked!" As if a battery had been plugged into him, the demon brandished his arm into the air, the bags swinging by his face and missing him by a few inches. "I got this whole place where they're sellin' tons of stuff for pretty cheap, but it's actually authentic branded things. See, they're actually sold to that one guy who then has to sell them to another guy, and..."

As you listened to Mammon explain how he was able to find "authentic stuff" (probably not that authentic, you were pretty sure about that) for less than a quarter of its original price, your eyes found themselves drifting to an impressive ad plastered on a building the two of you were walking by. Recognizing the habit of Majolish to put their models on display for everyone to see was pretty easy, but that wasn't what caught your eye in the moment.

What tuned Mammon down completely in your ears, were the models themselves. The second born, sitting on a stool with a ripped shirt and pants, a few accessories hanging off his neck and barely covering anything of his exposed chest. He looked serious, staring straight at the objective- and at you, while the light shined on him to completely capture his frame for the picture.

And sitting down in the middle of the shot, between his legs, was a female demon wearing a red leather dress, her head resting on top of Mammon's leg. The clawed hand dangling off his knee- covered in golden rings, seemed to taunt you, as well as the piercing yellow eyes she had. Saying she wasn't beautiful would be lying. In fact, she was absolutely stunning. A perfect model for a perfect shot. Just looking at her made you feel small, like a prey that was about to be devoured by a hungry beast, the longer you were looking at her.

But that's what demons were supposed to make you feel like, right?

"Hey!" Mammon called out from the distance he had put between the two of you since you had stopped walking beside him. "Yo, MC!"

Watching as you kept staring into nothing, Mammon rolled his shoulders with a furrowed brow before walking back toward you, his head tilting to the side as he noticed your dead expression.

"Huuh hello, Devildom to MC? In which realm did ya get lost this time?"

"They replaced it." The words that left your mouth were weak, almost too silent for him to hear. It's as if all of the energy you had had evaporated from your body in an instant.

"Huh?" Mammon grew a bit concerned at this sudden change. His eyes perked up at the ad you were looking at, as you continued.

"The shoot we did together." Finally, you spared yourself from the sight, your gaze dropping to the ground. "They already replaced it with another one."

As soon as Mammon understood why *this* ad in particular seemed to be upsetting you so much, his jaw was already clenching. He remembered the stars he had seen in your eyes the previous week when you saw yourself on the Majolish ad, posing beside him- a shoot opportunity you had gotten while accompanying him after RAD a few days prior. In the middle of his shoot, he practically didn't leave any choice to his agent and had insisted that you be included in the shots to promote one of the new pieces of jewelry the brand was planning to release in the upcoming months. Asmo, who was there to witness your reaction on that day the three of you went out, had even taken a hundred pictures or so of you posing in front of the ad.

Except that, the jewelry you had posed with, was now present on the new model posing alongside Mammon.

He had made sure to engrave that smile of yours in his head at the time, even going so far as to snap a picture of your face while you were too focused on Asmo to notice him. But now, there was absolutely no trace of that same happiness anymore.

"The fuck?" The snarl that left him shook the walls of his throat. "That wasn't supposed to be advertised before another month! Why'd they have to take ours so soon?!"

"It's okay, Mammon." The demon stopped growling as his eyes lowered on the hand that was clutching his arm. "I mean... I'm not a model. Figures they wouldn't put it up for long... I-I mean, look at me. Seriously, who would want to see my face being exposed for longer than they can bare? It's hard to imagine. I wouldn't probably have sold their product anyway, so... it's okay."

The look on your face was devastating. Despite trying your best to smile, the tears pricking in your eyes were threatening to roll down your cheeks at any second. Mammon felt his heart being stabbed with a thousand invisible daggers, he couldn't bear to watch you feeling insulted in such a way.

His bags were immediately dropped onto the floor, the demon no longer caring for any of the fragile items he may have bought. His hands swung forward to cup your cheeks, forcing your face up to look at him straight in the eyes.

"Hey hey, MC. C'mon, look at me."

You did your best not to let your vision turn blurry because of the upcoming tears, and stared back at Mammon, your bottom lip trembling weakly.

"I don't care what anyone, model agents or not, can say- you'd sell a thousand more times than any fuckin' models out there, okay? In fact, you're worth even more than their stupid jewelry!"

His thumb quickly brushed away a tear from the corner of your eye as his other hand came to rest on your temple.

"They just put that one up there because that model is famous. They don't care about what's really beautiful, they just want to boast their popularity to the rest of the world." The blue of his eyes seemed to radiate the closer he moved towards you. "But I know what's beautiful. And her? She doesn't compare to you. No one does."

You could only look down in shame as his hands never left you, closing your eyes shut to let a couple tears out before Mammon grabbed a tissue from his pocket to dry your face. He patiently waited a few seconds for you to calm down, soothing you with slow caresses of your hair until your shoulders stopped shaking.

"I'm sorry..." you muttered, sniffling as you passed a wrist over your eyes. "I don't know why that upset me so much..."

"Ya got nothing to be sorry about." Mammon retrieved his hands from your head, only to grab the bags that were hanging off of your arms. He somehow manages to hold them alongside his own behind him, before wrapping the other arm around your shoulder.

"Hey, I'd call this a day. How about I prepare ya a bath when we're home? Courtesy of the Great Mammon."

You nodded, your lips arching into a smile as you grabbed the hand hanging off your shoulder. The day was cut too short for your liking, but you didn't feel up for any additional purchases, or to properly enjoy your outing anymore.

"Will you wash my hair?" You entertwined your fingers with his as he gave them a gentle squeeze.

"Pah, of course! Who else but me could do that?" He huffed through his nose, shaking his head at such an obvious question. Your laugh ringing in his ears gave him a brief moment of respite.

But the demon furrowed his brows as he lead you into your walk back home, keeping you snuggled at his side. Holding the bags in his left hand, his white nails sharply digged into his palm the more steps he took alongside you.

Making them cry? Such a big, big mistake. One thing was sure, Mammon wasn't about to let that one pass.

"But before that..." The hiss that escaped his throat went unnoticed by the two of you as your head rested against his shoulder.

"I'll have a few calls to make."

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

the angstiest au you can come up with please

im hereby giving you permission to go wild

I have class in like an hour and I should be studying for my test but yes yes absolutely

Timari Soulmate AU where soulmates can feel the other's pain

They discover that they have soulmates rather quickly

The telltale sign that someone has a soulmate is that they will cry slightly more as a baby. After all, babies have very few experiences. Every jolt of pain, every negative emotion, is very big for them. So, whenever they or their soulmate experiences something even mildly discomforting, they cry

Tim's soulmate is clumsy and it takes a while for him to get used to the sudden feeling of hitting the ground or bumping into something without warning. It isn't uncommon for him to absently rub a hand over whatever his soulmate hurt, as if confirming to himself that he's actually fine

Marinette's soulmate gets sick way more than is probably normal. It's odd to see her without a red-tinged and irritated face from how much her soulmate is blowing their nose and she has to sit down often lest 'her' nausea get the better of her

When they're three years old, Tim visits the circus. Dick Grayson promises to do his special quadruple flip 'just for him', and Tim is gearing up for a fun night out with his parents. But, of course, it goes wrong

Oh god oh god oh god

They're falling

They can't be dead, can they?

They're DEAD

RUN RUN RUN

The Graysons fall, and so does Marinette. She spills from her bed at just past midnight, screaming at the top of her lungs. Her parents try to console her but she can barely hear them. The heels of her palms dig into her eyes as she cries, thrashing as Tom desperately tries to keep her from running around in fears of her getting even more hurt

Neither of them gets a full night's sleep after that. They're always jolting out of bed, their hearts beating wildly and their eyes prickling with tears. Marinette feels like her tongue is going to be bitten off as her soulmate struggles to keep quiet, Tim feels imaginary hands tugging at the roots of his hair as his desperately tries to ground themself

At age five Marinette starts helping her parents out in the bakery, they're both awake anyways. She tries to be careful, but Tim's palms are red and raw regardless

When they're six, Tim's parents leave him alone for the first time. A five-month-long trip. They barely even give him a hug before loading their things into the taxi. He waves to them as it drives off, but they don't wave back

Don't go

Please, don't leave him alone

Why would they leave him alone?

Don't they love him?

Marinette finds herself clinging to anyone that will allow it, but no matter how many friends she makes she can't soothe the desperate loneliness that presses in on her until she swears she can't breathe

Marinette steadily becomes people-pleasing in her desperation to keep people from getting annoyed by her clinginess. No matter how much she tries to explain that she just wants to be near them, that she just loves them, it's not enough. She's not enough

They're annoyed that I'm hugging them again

Should I make it up to them?

That's not nearly enough. I need to do more

She can do more

She can fix this

Please, please, don't go

She doesn't want to be alone

Tim sits, huddled over his desk, struggling to read his textbook through blurry vision. His shoulders shake with repressed sobs. He doesn't want to disturb the maid, after all. So, instead, he stuffs his hands in his mouth and tries to work. He can be better, he thinks. And, if he is better, then maybe his parents will stay

They just need to be good, they agree without ever saying a word to each other, then maybe they'll finally be worthy of love

At age eight Tim's obsession with Batman and Robin heightens to the point where he starts following them through the city on an almost nightly basis. Marinette learns what it feels like to constantly have ankles that ache and knees that feel like they're on the verge of tearing open but not knowing why. The tips of Marinette's fingers tingle whenever Tim tries to pet a feral cat and ends up getting scratched or bitten. No matter how much she sleeps she's always exhausted. No one says anything when she starts bringing sodas and thermoses of coffee to every class

When they're eleven, Marinette gets her first period. Tim trips in the middle of walking between classes, surprised, and many thoughts run through his head. Had his soulmate been punched? Stabbed? Because, wow, this was probably the worst he'd ever felt. He struggles to move for a good five minutes and by the time he's able to open his eyes again properly he's being dragged to the nurse's office. Panic grips him, he can't miss class -- his parents will get called, they don't want to worry about his attendance when they're out having fun. He stumbles to class and no one says a word about how weird his gait is or how his face is pinched with pain

At thirteen, Tim begins his career as a vigilante. He gets stabbed for the first time. Experiences what it's like to have a bullet wound. Concussions and fear gas and acid and...

Calm down, no one wants a crybaby

He needs to be better

He has civilians to protect, he can't mess up, people are counting on him

B won't accept anything but perfection

He'll never live up to Jason's memory, he'll never be good enough

But if he keeps working at it... maybe he'll be kept around

If B genuinely starts to like him then, maybe, it'll be worth it

Marinette finds herself on the floor more and more often, curled into a tight ball. Her hands grip her hair desperately, trying to pull her focus away from the fact that she feels like her stomach is being torn open from the inside out

Marinette begins her career as a superhero at age fifteen. She gets thrown into walls. Her fingers ache where her yoyo digs into her fingers. Broken limbs and Cataclysms and magical blasts and...

Calm down, no one wants an akuma

She needs to be better

She has to be the one to fix everything, she can't mess up, everyone is counting on her

Paris won't accept anything but perfection

She'll never live up to their standards, she'll never be good enough

But if she keeps working at it... maybe she'll be kept around

If Chat Noir genuinely likes her then, maybe, it's worth it

Tim moves in quick, jerky motions. If he stays still for too long he struggles to start moving again. He feels dead, he probably should be because he swears that his soulmate's body should have given out with all these injuries, but they stay stubbornly alive and he continues to be in pain

There doesn't seem to be a moment when they're not hurting at least a little. It becomes their new normal. This isn't to say that they ever get used to it -- they still feel every punch, every blast of power, as if it were their first time -- just that it no longer surprises them when their lungs fill with acidic air or when they feel as if a car is about to crush them

People whisper that they must be faking it to get out of classes

Sometimes, they wish they were right

I don't want a soulmate anymore, their anger and sadness and fear and hatred seem to scream

I'm sorry, the pangs of guilt whisper back. I'll try to be better

Marinette gets pulled from school when they're sixteen. It had been a long time coming, really, but she just can't stick to a strict schedule with all of the stuff both she and her soulmate get up to. She tells herself it's for the best, but all she can think about is how her friends are visiting her less and less. No one really noticed that she left, anyways...

Alonealonealone

Tim keeps losing people. His mom, then his dad. Then Darla gets murdered and Bernard stops talking to him because it's painful for them to get together without her there. Then it's Bart and Cassie... and then, finally, Bruce. To make things worse, Dick practically replaces him with Damian even though the kid literally tried to murder him on several different occasions... he leaves, desperate to find Bruce. No one will notice or care that he's gone, anyways...

Alonealonealone

They're seventeen. Tim's search for Bruce brings him to Paris, but he's really just passing through. He plans to leave by morning

Marinette flashesa thumbs up when her parents ask her to deliver something because they had a date that night. She forces herself out of bed. She winces a little as she takes the heating pad away from her shoulders and turns it off. She rolls her shoulders and cranes her neck and finds that, for once, she isn't in pain.

Weird, she didn't think her soulmate had been in physical pain much at all in the past week...

She grabs the box of pastries and heads out quickly, she didn't know how much longer the lack of pain would last. Might as well get work done while she could

Tim glances the person in the doorway up and down once. There were heavy bags under her eyes and her hair hung in limp ringlets. She looked on the verge of death. Definitely not a threat to him. His shoulders relax just slightly

Marinette hesitates. He was about her age, but he looked exhausted. His face was long and gaunt, wrinkles creased his forehead. She considered asking if he was okay

He glances behind himself and suddenly tenses up. She doesn't see why. He trades the box in her hand for cash, muttering a quick "merci" before slamming the door in her face

"De rien," she mutters under her breath, sarcasm dripping from her tone, and then she turns to leave

She's waiting for the elevator when the hotel room suddenly bursts into flame. Heat washes over her and she's quick to transform in hopes of letting that take the brunt of the attack

An akuma, she thinks. Really, she should have been expecting that

She runs in and finds that he's already leaving the room

She follows him to the next rooftop where he's already found three people to fight and... god, this may just be the ugliest akuma yet

He spots her from where she's perched herself on the edge of the roof. He stops moving for just a second, confusion tugging at his expression

She's quick to wrap her yoyo around his legs and pull him to the ground

But then she stops cold

Because she feels the familiar tug of her yoyo. Around her legs

He was... her soulmate?

But, wait, soulmates weren't supposed to feel the things their soulmates felt while akumatized

So was he not akumatized? Was he just a hero?

Then what about the people he was fighting? And the exploded hotel room? Or was he just defending himself?

She takes a few shaky steps forward, feeling weird and off-balance and conflicted and confused and unsure

They stared at each other with wide eyes

... wait, why was he surprised?

His lips part but his eyebrows are furrowed as he tries to say something

God, he didn't pay nearly enough attention in his French classes to tell her what he needs to

She barely has time to realize that he's looking behind her before something beans her over the back of the head

The both of them curse in unison

Marinette goes stumbling forward and understanding passes between them as Marinette and Tim stare at each other despite the fact that half of their faces are covered by their masks

The fact that they're soulmates will be dealt with later. After they're no longer in imminent danger

[erenisms]

love is blind | kuroo tetsurou

getting your first prescription glasses with tetsurou is a mess.

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x reader

genre: fluff

warning/s: slight cursing

i haven’t written a one-shot in a while

this was supposed to be for eren but i refuse to let him have all my attention :)

“You mean you can’t really see my face this whole time?”

“I wish that was the case.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Tetsurou, my eyesight is blurry, not multiplied.”

“Are you glaring at me because you’re mad or are you just squinting because you can’t see me?”

“I swear to fucking god—”

You regret bringing Kuroo to the ophthalmologist clinic with you. The staff are looking weirdly at the two of you and you swore you noticed some of the other customers and patients stifle a giggle at his remarks. Ever since you told him yesterday that you have mild nearsightedness, he hasn’t stopped teasing you about your eyesight.

“Yo, how do I look in this?” The tall male asks from beside your peripheral, wearing comical thick-framed shades with a neon green leopard pattern.

“Ridiculous.” You grunt, not sparing him a glance and compares two eyeglasses on your hands with a concentrated pout.

“You’re so lame, I think I was rocking it.” Kuroo removes the glasses and places it back on the shelf. He leans from behind you and places his chin on your shoulder. “What’s taking you so long? Can’t see the designs well?”

“Shut up, dumbass. The lenses can change how your face looks with the glasses on so I have to pick carefully.” You explain sternly. “I have to know what will suit me.”

“Come oooon, just pick a frame.” He whines, dropping his weight further on you. “They’ll all suit you anyway. Don’t worry about looking ugly or anything because you literally can’t.”

“Says the one who doesn’t have to—”

The doctor who took your refraction test last week arrives and greets you.

“Nice to see you again, [Name].” The older lady smiles. “I see you have company, your boyfriend?”

Kuroo slings an arm over your shoulder and grins proudly. “Fiancé, actually.”

“I honestly don’t know what I see in him.” You roll your eyes. “Maybe I’ll realize how ludicrous your hairstyle is like everyone says after this.”

“Actually,” Kuroo states in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. “When you get your eyeglasses done, you’ll see how much you’re really in love with me.”

“Or maybe I’ll get tired of seeing your smug face and break up with you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He narrows his eyes,

“Watch me.” You glare piercingly.

“Oh, I can watch you but can you watch me? Huh, soon-to-be four eyes?” Your boyfriend leans down condescendingly and pokes your cheek.

You nearly bit off his finger but your ophthalmologist speaks up with a laugh.

“Okay, okay, lovebirds. I think that’s enough. Ah, young love.” Your doctor intervenes carefreely. “[Name], come in here so we can double-check your grade. Are you done choosing a pair?”

“Yeah, this one.” You answer, holding up your chosen frame and handing it to her assistant for lens cutting.

“Great, you can sit there. I’ll just set up the projector.” Your doctor states which you respond with a nod.

“Don’t trip on your way there.” Kuroo teases you as he watches your form disappear from behind the curtain.

After testing your visual acuity, you and your fiancé went around the street to grab some drinks from the nearby coffee shop and let the hour pass there, chatting idly and comfortably. Just as the time hit a quarter after an hour, the two of you decided to head back to the clinic to retrieve your eyeglasses.

Kuroo watches you daintily place your freshly made glasses up your face in front of the provided mirror. It’s cute how you keep scrunching your nose at the foreign weight of the pads and adjusting the temple tips on your ears. Finally, you turn to face your boyfriend who’s leaning casually on a post.

“Is it okay?” You ask timidly, almost embarrassed at your new look. “What do you think? How do I look now?”

He smiles, and not that usual cheshire grin, but a fond one and pushes up the glasses with his thumbs the same time he cups your cheeks. “Just as beautiful.”

- love, zari

[alberivh]

Hii I hope ur requests are still open :")

If yes may I request an angst with Diluc and reader who is a fatui member?

Reader always wanted to tell Diluc about that theyre a member of the fatui but feared the out come since they know how much Diluc hates the fatui. One time reader was on a mission with some other fatui members and Diluc somehow was there and wanted to defeat them (he didn't know that it was reader cuz theyre wearing a mask) when he hurt them badly and almost wanted to kill them he heard them saying smth and thats when he noticed it was them

(U can choose how it ends since I hv too many ideas TT)

Also sorry if my English is a bit trashy-

incoming guilt

summaries : fate couldn’t be change and you know it, falling in love with the darknight hero of the nation of freedom is a sin for those who could only bow their heads to their god’s.

characters : diluc x GN!Reader

contains : angst, major character death, injuries, scars and burns, blood, angst with a light ending, comfort/hurt

side notes, thank you for requesting! I really love your ideas and it motivates me to do more of these type of tropes. Once again thank you very much! Hope you enjoy this!( this isn’t the best i could wrote but i hope you could still understand this in some-ways)

when diluc saw you unconscious in his arms because of the harmful burns and fatal cuts he committed to your once-flawless skin, he only wanted to apologize to your being for not being an-understanding partner he is. He wanted to tell you how much you meant for him although you were now conscious in his arms. Leaving him with 2 memories, death and love. i’m sorry for everything, it’s his only plea to keep you ‘alive’.

It was all back in the last 2 hours of your argument with him. Or should i say..a suspicious fatui maiden and the darknight hero himself. They are fighting over something the fatui nor monstadt could ever explain. No one could spotted both you and diluc fighting traces obviously, it was 11 PM, everyone have set tucked onto their bed watching their once favorite television show and sleep. But now, you were fighting your lover so he could see the side meaning of you who never want to do this painful job nor even wanting to explain why you apply to this job. bounties opression they said, it’s the main reason you’ve apply to the fatui.

Diluc knew something was up, he saw the glances of this one fatui hesitating to attack him. It was you, but he never knew that. You keep defending from his attacks and it pissed him off. As so he decided for the better good of monstadt and his deep intels, he gave you a blow of a fatal cut and burns in your chest. It blast out from your defense as it was burned onto the skin of your throat and chest. Making a big dark circlet and droplets of blood by your skins. Making sure you’ll spoke the truth to him other than hesitating to attack nor spoke to him clearly.

He pulls your hair into a tighter pull, to bring you stand and confess your explanation. it hurts you, it really does. But how should you refuse this treatment? You have no chance to discuss it with him, After-all you’re just a suspicious looking fatui in his eyes. You must accept this treatment even if it meant for you to groaned in pain afterwards. he is a merciless knight in the dust of the dawn and you should’ve known this better than the other recruits does.

of course, you aren’t prepared to die aren’t you? Especially in the hands of your lover. Isn’t that too tragic for you to die.

“my love..i’m so sorry for everything..pllease let me rest and apologize..”

you plead, holding your dearest life onto the choking pain of his tighten grip of your hair. The cuts and burns on your chest worsened in each seconds, it scared him.

“….i simply do not have time for this, speak the truth of your hesitation a—“ , he heard ‘this suspicious fatui’ hopeless hoarsing voice. He couldn’t continue his silent, knowing this voice was to oddly similliar to his lover. He was confused, too confused to ever let you go from this grip. why must you join them?

“I’m in too much pain diluc..please- i’m sorry..i’m sorry..”

as he realized in no time after hearing your hopeless plea, he came onto your side and catch your exhausted body in a second. It was you all along. the one who hesitates to fight him back nor even to harm him back. You have no intention to fight him yet a murderous aura around you have made him uncomfortable by the true nature of you with these infamous masks. You’re probably crushed in the face if you didn’t plead yourself to have him give you a mercy.

“please stay like this…you’re so warm..i could hardly forgive myself to let you act like that..”

“i-i’m sorry i didn’t mean to blo—“

“It’s fine…you did the right thing my love..”

A guilt trips onto his head. He was blowing you a cut and you don’t mind. He was burning your skin and you could only hopelessly wish he could gave you more time. How stupid it is for you to even forgive his action?

“…at least let me rest in your lap love..embracing me wouldn’t work…i’ll just fade at the end..”

You chuckled through out diluc panics and crawled your scarred-body onto his trembling lap, what a warm bed. It scared him, it scared him that you’ll be gone as soon as you laugh your pains of. You were you, and he knows it. You don’t want him to bare your pain, you prefer him to love you and forgive you for your inflation. You want him to know how much you love him despite harming you into numerous way.

Harmless lullaby comforted diluc ears and spine , you were humming his favorite song. To remember, you said. You were hurting and he could see it, yet the herbals he crushed for your injuries couldn’t cure anything but harmed you even more.

“I loved you, so much..and too much..sorry for being selfish diluc..everyone have their reason so do i am..”

“take my vision…you shouldn’t buried a sinner alone…you are loved diluc, by me or those memories..”

The vision blurred it lights into a thin air of memories. your eyes sorrowed, Closing it eyelids like it was meant to be. Unconsciously Sleeping in his lap, growing a smile of regrets and tears onto your fallen face. while diluc throat start to grow harsh and dry, he was fallen out of balance. He’s desperate, too desperate to ever letting you go. You left him with clear confusion and guilt, are you happy with this choice?

“I haven’t told you how much i love you..”

You were buried by his hands and his embrace, he guilt trips himself until the age of new monstadt. He couldn’t see your figure, yet the vision of you he kept inside his pocket are a resemblance of his guilt and regret towards your death. Blurry sight of his memories causes him to forget the small slight structure of your well being. It hardens him to forgive himself even now.

“wish i could still remember those smile of yours, love..”

[skellebonez]

Tumblr Messed Up Fill #5

Alright, I believe this is the FINAL accidentally posted fill! @winterpower98​ has such a great dynamic between Jin and Yin and the rest of the cast in the Cursed AU that I just love writing these two in any situation. I hope you enjoy this despite the wait!

When MK has been dragged out on an "emergency supply trip" with Jin and Yin he had almost expected he would need to step in to prevent them from doing anything illegal. They may technically be on their side now, but much like Macaque they weren't entirely removed from their villainous past.

What he had not expected was for the two of them announce that they not only intended to pay in cash, something most people didn't do not a days in favor of a single card or paying through their phone, but for them to attempt to give him a crash course in electronics every time he looked at a computer part with vague confusion.

On the bright side, he at least had didn't have to worry about them getting him banned from any of the local stores.

On the down side...

He looked at the massive pile of electronic bits the poor cashier was attempting to scan and bag for them in a timely manner. They had to, somehow, get all this stuff back to wherever they stored all of their equipment. MK was strong but the sheer amount of stuff would prove a problem simply by how much he would have to help carry. No wonder he'd been invited.

"Yin, toss me the wallet will ya?" Jin yelled once the cashier finally announced their total with a relieved sigh. A excessive amount that MK doubted could ever be paid for in cash alone.

Until Yin launched the wallet at Jin's head and it bounced off him and set a few bills flying in the process.

"OUCH, watch it! That's our profits you're throwing around!" Jin complained, grabbing a few bills that were still airborne with a sigh. "Just. I'll ask ya to hand it to me next time."

"Sorry..." Yin said, not really sounding all that sorry. The smirk and the fact he stuck out his tongue did not help.

Granted, Jin didn’t exactly seem genuinely upset at what happened either, judging by the smile on his face.

He probably wasn’t supposed to see it. That was probably why MK didn’t even know they had a wallet, they didn’t want anyone to see what they had in it.

But he was MK. The Monkie Kid. And his first instinct was to kneel down and pick up the wallet to give it back to Jin. The wallet that was sitting open with the inside facing up and bulging with bills and...

One of those folding picture things you would only see parents have of all their kids in comedy movies. It was folded up backwards, tucked into the wallet itself to keep it from unfolding and falling down, and only one picture was visible at the moment. One with a face he recognized very quickly. How could he not?

It was his face after all.

He recognized when it was taken too, pretty soon after the two had joined up with the group as Macaque’s... whatever they were to the reformed monkey demon. They’d been teasing him about if he had anyone he liked and Jin had just managed to make him laugh with some kind of joke.

He didn’t remember a picture being taken but one of them just have had a phone or camera to do so. He remembered their little conspiracy board from the first time they met, they were good at sneaking pictures of people... which, considering what he was holding in his hand right now, was kind of creepy when he thought about it for long enough.

He didn’t have the time to think about it for much longer though, as the wallet was yoinked out of his hand by an excited Jin, shouting a “thanks MK!” back at him when he pulled out the large bills to hand to the cashier.

He didn’t seem embarrassed or upset, in fact the only one who seemed to be out of the four of them was the cashier who had to check that they had enough chance before realizing they would only be getting a handful yuan back.

And then they were outside and making their way back to their workshop, presumably, MK with the bulk of the items but Jin and Yin taking their fair share of the electronic bits.

“Well that evened out nicer than expected,” Jin laughed, tucking their change into the wallet before snapping it closed with a victorious look on his face. “Just enough to grab us all one cheese tea each, if we all want some.”

“Could, uh... I ask you something first?” MK interrupted as they walked, the prospect of being treated to a drink for his work sounding pretty good actually.

“Yeah, go for it.”

“... why do you have a picture of me?” He asked wearily, just…still trying to take in the fact that apparently Jin and Yin shared a single wallet and they apparently just had pictures of everyone he knew in it.

Jin paused for a moment, looking at the wallet and then back to MK a few times before shrugging and shoving it back into his shirt, presumably the same kind of hidden pocket Yin had when he pulled it out. “I dunno? Guess I thought it was important or something, like if we needed to find you. Easy picture to show off if you go missing."

“Right…”

The trio didn’t even get to lapse into silence as they walked, the twins quickly finding some topic of conversation that completely flew over MK’s head regarding computing power and ram drives.

The cheese tea was good though.

~

Jin looked between his younger twin and the wallet. Though he hadn’t really thought about it all that much when MK had asked, something about his question was starting to bother the elder Gold Demon.

It was a simple thing. Small. Kinda bulky despite the size due to the sheer amount of unnecessary things inside it. Receipts for the tech they had actually bothered to pay for, they felt bad stealing from that store in the past when they learned that it was in danger of being shut down due to lost profits, coupons that would eventually be used at the last second… pictures.

So many pictures.

And yet none of them were of either twin. At least none of them alone. There's was a single picture of the two of them together, just one, after building their first successful Calabash prototype. They thought that would be picture enough whenever the off chance they were separated for a... while...

“Oh…”

"What, Jin?" Yin asked, looking up from his soldering work at the loud exclamation.

"I'm starting to think we might be a little dense," Jin replied, opening up the wallet and letting the folded pictures fall out in a line. “Remember how MK asked why we had a picture of him?”

One picture was of MK, the one the young man had seen since it was the one sitting in the only visible stop of the holder when it was folded at the moment. One of Mei working on her bike. One of Macaque they had snuck while he slept. A slightly blurry one of Sun Wukong alone they barely managed to snatch in secret.

Mei and Yin playing some sort of game together, Jin leaning on Red Son and teasing him while MK watched, a proper one of Macaque and MK and Mei together. MK and Wukong, Mei and Wukong, Mei and Macaque, a trio of training pictures. Red Son flaming up at the camera in anger.

A lone one of Tang and Pigsy in the noodle shop that Jin could not explain the reason for taking, as well as one of Sandy on his boat with his cat.

And a few more of Mei and MK and Red and Macaque with either if them in particular for good measure.

Yin looked up and down at the line of photos and then to his brother, brow raised in confusion before his eyes widened in shock and dismay as he came to the same conclusion.

“Oh bloody hell... we’ve started to CARE.”

The twins looked at each other in resignation.

Nothing they could do about it now.

[ptergwen]

Hey could you write one where the reader helps tom, who's heavily drunk, get home? Somehow tonight he's a sad drunk and cries about random things to the reader it amuses the reader, but later surprised when tom cries saying that he thinks the reader is dating someone else because he saw the reader going out with a guy days before??

warnings: lots of drinking mentions and swearing

a/n: woah this is pretty long 😭 got a little carried away heh enjoy

-

“you’re where?” you ask into the phone, eyebrows furrowed as you try to make sense of tom’s drunken speech.

he seems to have gotten himself into a little bit of trouble. all his critical thinking skills blocked out by the alcohol, he ended up calling you. you’re now determined to find out where your friend is and help him home. tom has a track record for doing stupid shit when he’s drunk.

“th’ pub,” tom slurs back. “you wanna join me? have a drink?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. he’s leaning on the bar, but his arm slides and draws an oh, shit out of him. so he doesn’t hear your giggling, you put a hand over your mouth. “y/n/n, you coming?” he asks sort of desperately once he has his balance.

“yeah, tom. i’m on my way,” you reply and head to your front door, keys already in your hands. “hurry,” he commands, then takes a sip of beer from his nearly empty bottle. he’s not making this easy for you. the drunker he gets, the harder it is to drag his ass out of there. “i am, i am. see you soon.” you hang up with a sigh.

it doesn’t take you long to get to the pub, which is a good and sometimes bad thing, this time good. you find parking and speed walk inside. your eyes instantly scan the place for your buzzed best friend. he’s not hard to find in one of his signature white t-shirts, hair slicked back. he’s hunched over in the stool, and his head is down. that’s concerning.

the bartender is cleaning up a spill nearby him when you approach the bar. tom whines out a series of, “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, i’m really sorry,” to him. he’s crying. weeping would be more accurate. his whole body moves while he sobs into his arms. you sit down next to him and put a hand on his back.

he looks over at you with tears falling down his cheeks. “tom, what happened?” you frown, already turned to face him. his eyes water again. “i- i spilled my drink and it got all over and i feel so bad, y/n,” tom tells you in a high pitched tone, the bartender placing down another beer in front of him.

you shoot him a glare because he’s clearly had enough. he swings the rag he was using to clean over his shoulder and shrugs. isn’t part of his job knowing when to cut people off?

“thank you,” tom mumbles to the guy, who gives him a nod before tom grabs the beer off the counter. you snatch it away from him. “oh, no. that’s enough already.” you put his drink down on the other side of you. that encourages tom to cry some more, hiding his face in his arms for a second time. “no fair!” he yells and sounds like a child while doing it.

“you’re gonna have a really bad hangover, or puke this all up, or both,” you explain your confiscation to him. “probably both.” tom lifts his head up, eyes sad yet hopeful at the same time. he grabs your hand with both of his. “will you take care of me?” the question, mostly how he asks it, makes your heart clench.

“of course. let’s get you home, okay?” you stand up and loop an arm around his back. tom follows suit, you pulling him towards you and grabbing his jacket off the stool. “no, i wanna stay with you.” he insists, stumbling forward as you lead him towards the exit. you’re hoping he already paid because you don’t feel like that sketchy bartender coming after you.

“sure, you can spend the night. we haven’t had a sleepover in a while,” you agree, pushing open the door with your foot, arms preoccupied with tom. your offhanded joke makes him emotional again. there’s more to it, though. “it’s- it’s been so long,” tom sniffles out. “aw,” you chuckle and tighten your arm around him.

he used to stay over your place a lot before he moved in with the boys and harry. he misses being able to crawl into your bed and snore while you lay in his arms. you also miss it, so it’s funny how neither of you have said anything.

the tears in tom’s eyes make his vision blurry, which in turn makes him trip over a rock. “sorry, man,” he apologizes to it, you steadying him and letting out another laugh. he’s funny when he’s so far gone. “we’re almost at the car,” you let him know with a tiny smile. “‘mkay,” tom nods and wipes his tears away, leaning into you for the rest of the way there.

tom does fine for most of the car ride. there’s an incident where he gags and you almost pull over, but he ends up not needing it. he feels so awful he nearly puked in your car that it makes him cry yet again. you promise him it’s fine, that you don’t mind and everything is fine. you’ve never seen drunk or sober tom act like this.

you bring him straight to your room when you get home, dropping him on the bed and huffing. tom falls onto his back. he closes his eyes and purses his lips. “do you need anything?” you pant, answering yourself before he does. “you should have some water.” “ok,” tom mumbles and drags his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “ma’am,” he adds.

rolling your eyes, you make your way to the kitchen to get him a water bottle. you start to wonder why he got so plastered in the first place. seeing him in this state beyond worries you. you love tom too much to watch him fall apart. you really love him.

you come back to your room and flick on the lights. tom throws an arm over his head, mouth agape and a groan escaping it. “shit, sorry,” you giggle, shutting the lights off. “you’re a madwoman,” he rasps back. he sounds slightly more aware of himself now. “well, you’re a madman. here.” you toss him the water.

tom obviously doesn’t catch it, so it lands on his stomach. he rips off the cap and goes to take a sip while laying down. he’ll throw up for real this time if he does that.

“tom, tom, tom,” you murmur to yourself in a playfully disapproving tone. you take a seat next to him, tugging at his hand to get him to sit up. he smiles lazily and brings the bottle to his lips, watching a smile spread across your own face while he takes a sip. the two of you make eye contact for long enough that you notice something visibly shift within him.

tom looks down at his lap instead, taking his mouth off the water with a pop. he then exhales through his nose rather reflectively. you take notice of that, squinting at him in the dark. “what?” you wonder aloud. a few seconds go by without tom saying anything, deciding if it’s worth bringing up. he figures he might as well say it because it’ll come out eventually.

“the other day,” tom starts, voice deep and alcohol still in his system. “were you out with someone? a guy?” you’re not quite sure what he’s referring to. “huh?” is all you say back. “harry was picking up dinner, said he saw you on a date at the restaurant.” he gets quieter during the second part, almost upset. you sit up from the comfortable position you were in.

“harry was there? i didn’t know that,” you tell him as you try to piece together the story. tom takes that as confirmation. “so, you were on a date?” he caps the water and throws it somewhere on your bed. “i need another drink.” “it wasn’t a date- hang on.” it finally clicks with you why he was getting wasted by himself in the latest hours of the night.

“you were drinking because you thought i went on a date?” you ask tom softly, another smile pulling at your lips. “um...” he blows out of his mouth and nods, still nodding as he speaks. “yeah. made me feel shitty.” what you said now registers with him. he perks up ever so slightly. “but, you said it wasn’t a date?” “no,” you quickly dismiss. “he’s in one of my classes.”

“we were working on an assignment, and i thought having him over would give him the wrong idea.” you’re grinning by the end of your explanation because of what you feel is about to come next. tom beams back at you, moving closer to you on the bed. “good,” he affirms and brings a hand up to your cheek. his wide pupils search yours, thumb brushing your skin.

“‘cuz i like you, and love you.” his voice drops to a whisper. “love you a lot.” “i like you too,” you breathe out, enjoying the way his warm hand makes your skin tingle. “and, i love you.” “wish i knew that before i got fucking pissed,” tom mumbles, but seems unbothered because he leans in to kiss you. you’re met with his beer breath before giving him a push back.

“speaking of, you’re still drunk,” you laugh and comb your fingers through his matted curls. “i’m not,” tom protests, ducking away from you. scoffing, you retract your hand with a knowing look. “you are. i can smell it. we should go to sleep, tom.” he caves and lays down, letting his head fall in your lap. “fine. can we at least cuddle?”

he’s relentless.

but, you say yes.