#and given the option to opt out and go off to do his own thing)

[vaugarde]

re: people on here immediately leaping to assume a rude person in public is just a poor baby autistic who doesnt mean anything bad and actually you are committing a micro-aggression by being appalled by that rude person:

if my brother was on this site, the discourse would be astronomical

[hyperfixatedbastard]

how to get the First Man™ out of bed

Soft!Adam x GN!Reader

Turns out the 'First Man' himself is actually super clingy. And he is a big baby when it comes to getting up in the mornings. Good luck convincing him to get his ass outta bed!

Word Count: 1.1k

WARNINGS: mentions of sex, implied sexual content, withholding sex, kissing (it's still SFW!)

A/N: Here is the Adam x Reader fluff, finally! I didn't mean for this to have so much sex-adjacent content but I think that's just too integral to Adam's character lmao. It's still SFW though so it's fineee. I didn't mean for the 'withholding sex' part to be manipulative, it's all fun n' games here, so apologies if it comes across as too serious. (It was originally 'one week', not 'one day' - I changed it just in case lol)

Dividers

Beneath the douchebag exterior of the First Man™, Adam’s really just a big ol’ softie. Just deep, deep, deep down. It took a long time to find that part of him, but as his partner, you’re one of the only people that even knows this side of him exists.

One thing you really hadn’t expected from the man is how clingy he can get—it probably has something to do with the abandonment issues, but you’ve never tried to broach that subject. It’s currently early in the morning, and Adam doesn’t seem to plan on letting go of you anytime soon. You’re cuddled up with him in bed, his mask and robes absent as he sleeps. His wings are wrapped around you like a protective blanket. And now you have to try and convince his stubborn ass to get the fuck up. You’ve already been awake for about fifteen minutes, hoping your boyfriend will wake up on his own, but of course, that’s not going to happen. 

Getting Adam out of bed is always a struggle. Despite the promotion of Heaven as the ‘perfect place’ with ‘no bad days,’ there’s still a schedule to abide by, and angels still need sleep. And Adam really hates those damn schedules, and loves his beauty sleep. There are a multitude of ways to try and get him out of bed, and every morning is a guessing game to see which one will work.

1. Be sweet and try to gently encourage him to get out of bed.

“Adam, babe,” you murmur softly, opting for a gentle approach this time around. You pat his arms where they’re wrapped securely around your waist—you would try to get a look at his face, but he’s spooning you from behind and giving you absolutely zero wiggle room. “You gotta get up, we have shit to do.”

“Mm…fuck off,” Adam grumbles, only tightening his hold on you and nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck. Which was about what you expected.

2. Be a little assertive.

“Adam, c’mon,” you warn in an attempt to convince him to get the fuck up. “I’ve already given you an extra fifteen minutes.”

“Then gimme fifteen more,” he insists, his voice sounding almost whiny. His childishness would be adorable if you didn’t actually have shit to do today. 

3. Be a little more assertive.

You sigh. It’s never easy with this asshole. “Adam.”

The angel in question makes a little ‘mmpf’ sound into your back.

“Get the fuck up.”

He doesn’t even respond this time—he just holds you tighter, his wings copying his arms and trapping you in his embrace.

4. Bribery.

Actually, fuck no. You refuse to bribe him again. He’s already gotten that out of you several times before, getting anything from sex to food to picking what movie you two watch that night (you’ve watched Die Hard three times this week alone)

No, this is a game you are not losing this time.

5. Threats.

“Okay, you’ve got three options,” you offer, your voice less stern than your last attempt but not as soft as your first. “One: you get up.”

Adam makes another noncommittal little grunt of acknowledgment.

“Two: you don’t get up, and Lute breaks into our apartment again to drag your ass out of bed.”

He lets out a sound that sounds kind of like a chuckle, but it’s muffled against the back of your neck, so it’s hard to tell. But he’s clearly not intimidated by the warning.

“Three: you don’t get up and we don’t fuck tonight.”

That gets him. He tenses up for a moment before scoffing in disbelief. “Yeah, right, like you could go a day without this dick.”

A smirk pulls at your lips. You’ve got him now. “Try me.”

Adam’s silent for nearly a full minute. He has a much higher libido than you, and he knows you’d be fine without sex for a day. Him, on the other hand? He’s got a high sex drive and is downright spoiled. 

You’re worried he’s fallen back asleep, but eventually, he sighs. His wings unfurl and his grip around you loosens, though not letting go entirely. “Fineee,” he groans dramatically. “But only because I don’t wanna deprive you of my amazing dick.”

You chuckle and turn to face him, now that you have the ability to actually move. His hair’s all messy, as it usually is, and his golden eyes are just barely cracked open. 

“Oh, how generous of you,” you joke, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. He instinctively pushes his face into your palm ever so slightly. 

“I know, I’m fucking great,” he agrees, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He knows you were being sarcastic, but he’ll turn damn near anything into a compliment that strokes his ego.

You just roll your eyes at his response, albeit fondly. He’s a dumbass, but he’s your dumbass.

“Alright, you big baby, time to get up,” you tease, moving to sit up before his arms tighten around you once more, pulling you back down.

“Hey—” you start, but are immediately cut off by a pair of lips on yours. His lips move slowly and languidly along with yours, and you’re all too happy to reciprocate.

You sigh into the kiss, unable to stop yourself from smiling against Adam’s lips. There’s a big difference between your usual hungry, eager make-outs and the sweet, lazy kisses you get when he’s all soft and sleepy. Both are great, but you really savor these tender, gentle moments with him. In the mornings, he’s too tired to keep up that arrogant ‘too cool for all that mushy, affectionate shit’ persona. And while you love him all the time, sleepy Adam definitely holds a special place in your heart.

He’s smiling when he lets you pull away. The kiss wasn’t a particularly long one, but you could’ve let it go on forever. But you’d be one hell of a hypocrite if you stayed in bed just to kiss your boyfriend after making such a point to get his ass out of bed.

“Now are you ready to get up?” you ask softly, still basking in the warmth of his embrace and the memory of his lips on yours.

“Mm…” Adam hums in consideration. His smile quickly turns to a smirk as he tightens his hold on you yet again and wraps his wings around you. “No.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Needless to say, you do not stay true to your word about the consequences of Adam not getting out of bed. And Lute does, in fact, break into your apartment half an hour later to be confronted with a sight she sees far too often for her liking. 

Fuck him for being so damn stubborn. Literally.

Taglist - @3sire-777

[immoralkombat]

feeling(s)

Kenshi has been blind for maybe an hour or two.

Johnny looks over at him with sympathy. He's not sure what he could possibly do or say to make things seem any less bleak for him. The man was just trying to get his family's heirloom back and now, after months of training and dedication, one of his five senses is gone permanently through no fault of his own. If Johnny were in Kenshi's position, he's sure he'd be feeling just as desolate, if not more so.

Kung Lao is sitting in the far corner, talking to Baraka. He seems genuinely fascinated by Tarkat as a disease. Were Johnny not in the same situation as them, he would find that particular conversation topic a bit morbid. Right now, it's really all they have to talk about. They've already exhausted all the small talk options you normally go through when first meeting someone. They might as well start talking about the disease that'll eventually kill Baraka.

The salve on the cloth seems to have worked a little, because at least Kenshi isn't moaning in pain every few seconds anymore. Not that it makes things significantly more cheerful, but it does help the atmosphere a bit.

Johnny taps on his knees as he sits, eyes darting between looking at Kung Lao and Kenshi. He's kind of in between where the two have sat themselves, a visual and metaphorical median between the two ways one could possibly react to getting imprisoned by a sorcerer that's almost 100% going to kill you. (To be fair, there isn't much that connects the points of "casually talking about a stranger's terminal illness with them as though you're both standing by the office water cooler talking about whatever hit TV show is airing these days" and "rocking back in forth in the corner about how a different terminally ill stranger took your eyes and you have nothing left in this world." Johnny supposes the best middle point is "looking anxiously between your two co-workers and not saying anything because Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you supposed to say in this situation besides aforementioned terminal illness.")

He really wishes that Kenshi still had his eyes, because every time he looked at Johnny, it always seemed to make everything feel okay.

Johnny thinks for a second and then scoots closer to Kenshi. It's only once he accidentally bumps up against Kenshi's foot and scares the living shit out of everyone in the cell that he realizes he probably should've given an audible cue that he was going to be approaching the newly blind guy.

After Kenshi's done having a mini panic attack over the sudden Hollywood A-lister jumpscare he's gotten, Johnny looks at him and asks, quietly, "Do you want to hold Sento for a bit?"

Kenshi turns to face him and even underneath the newly christened blindfold, Johnny can tell that Kenshi is looking at him with the most surprised and reverent eyes in the universe. The kind of look that you'd get and say "fuck this stupid sword, I'd pay $3 million just to get this guy to look at me like that again."

Kenshi's mouth opens as though he's going to say something, but it shuts again before any words or sounds can come out. He opts to nod in response and Johnny takes the scabbard from off his back, holds it in his hands gently and passes it to Kenshi. Their fingertips graze one another, a way to indicate that the blind man is in the right spot. The touch sends crackles of electricity through Johnny and he wonders if Kenshi feels them too.

It's like the tattoos on Kenshi's hands are swirling around him, colors dancing in front of his eyes. It's more beautiful than any lame fucking Disney movie ever could be.

The yakuza's voice is hoarse as he says "Thanks." It's so small that Johnny can almost see it breaking in the air. He wants to put his hand on Kenshi's and tell him that things will be okay, that he's going to pay for a sight companion, any kind of corrective surgeries he wants, whatever it takes. He wants to tell him that he's still just as strong and fierce and goddamn handsome now as he was before. He wants to kiss him so fucking badly it makes his entire being ache.

He settles for saying "You're welcome," and then sitting next to Kenshi in silence.

He watches the way that he holds Sento in his hands, feels every single nick in the scabbard, every single imperfection. It's the first time in Johnny's life that he's ever wanted to be a sword and, if he keeps hanging out with Kenshi after this, (which he hopes he can), it almost certainly won't be the last.

Johnny wishes that Mileena had taken Kenshi's tear ducts with her after she'd stabbed his eyes out, because the short sad sobs that wrack through his body are almost too much to bear witness to. When he cries, it moves through his entire being. It sends a shockwave from his gut upward, makes him lurch his shoulders forward and hug himself.

"H-Hey, what's wrong?" Johnny asks. He knows it's a stupid fucking question, obviously everyone knows what's wrong, most of all the guy it happened to. But it's all he can think to ask as he watches Kenshi continue to awkwardly jerk alongside his cries.

Kenshi's head turns to face Johnny. From beyond the thin red cloth that covers his eye sockets, Johnny can feel them boring into him.

"Cage, could I touch you? I want to remember what your face looks like."

If Johnny were operating on his full mental capacity, he would probably explode at this question. He would become the fireworks they popped last night at the banquet over their heads as they feasted. He would be attached to one end of a fuse with Li Mei holding the other end, readying herself to spark it and send him to the stratosphere.

"Y-Yeah, of course you can, Ken-doll. Just make sure not to damage the goods - people pay good money for this mug to show up on their big screens."

The smugness in his voice would normally earn him a "tch" or a groan, (or an eye roll), from Kenshi. Hearing him chuckle under his breath makes his heart soar.

He turns his face toward him and waits, but no touch comes. His eyes close, he anticipates the electricity to come back... and instead he hears Kenshi clearing his throat awkwardly.

Johnny opens his eyes and finds that Kenshi's still got his hands on Sento. He tries not to be jealous of the sword again, but as with any other time he's tried not to be jealous of someone or something that has what he wants, he fails miserably.

"Could you get closer, Cage?"

"Not the first time I'm hearing that question, won't be the last. How close you need me, handsome?"

The words come out before he can even process them. Jesus Christ, is he really that much of a disaster that he can just openly call a guy he's been crushing on for at least a month handsome without even thinking about it? He's a fucking mess. His wife left him and now he doesn't know how to act. She was gonna be the only person he'd ever be able to trick into loving him and now she was gone.

"I'm going to turn, and I suggest you do the same. I want to be facing you. You can sit with your legs touching mine if it helps."

Great, now Kenshi has a colorful blindfold that also serves as a perfect swatch for the shade of red Johnny's face turns every time the man says something that's totally fucking normal for two people that are acquainted with one another.

Johnny does as he's told, because if there's one thing he's good at, it's taking directions. (Ignoring literally every single major motion picture he's ever been in, every statement he's ever made to the press after consulting his legal teams and public consultants, and generally living life up until this point.)

His knees knock against Kenshi's and it takes him aback for a second, how giddy and childish the butterflies he feels in his stomach are. Getting to know Kenshi was so simple. He wishes he had just taken a second and been less of a dickwad back when they'd first met, because maybe then it'd be easier for him to grow a pair of cajones and tell Kenshi that he doesn't spend a single night without thinking about how much he wants to trace the tattoos on his hands and arms. Maybe if he had just given Sento over, it'd be easier to admit that the low rumble of Kenshi's voice does something to stir up the pool of heat in his stomach that he thought had been long since gone after getting married to Cristal. Maybe if he hadn't tied Kenshi to one of his kitchen chairs, it'd be easier to ask him if kissing washed-up celebrities was something he'd be interested in doing.

"I'll put my hand out, you lean forward to match it."

Kenshi's palm is extended and it takes every ounce of willpower in Johnny's aching body to not press his lips against it. He leans forward until his cheek is lightly touching the yakuza's hand.

He must be hearing things, because he swears he hears Kenshi's breath hitch when they make contact for the first time. Nah, surely not. Must've been the wind.

If Kenshi's senses are heightened because of the loss of his vision, then Johnny's senses are heightened because of the gain of his touch. He purses his lips together to stop from letting out some sort of obscene sound as he feels Kenshi's hand slowly smooth over his cheek. He thanks whatever fucked up Gods exist other than Liu Kang that he finally got on that moisturizing routine that he learned off of TikTok three months ago.

As Kenshi's hand slowly feels out every angle and curve of Johnny's face, his thoughts rush a mile a minute. He wonders if he should've done a closer shave today - maybe his stubble is gonna be too sharp and it'll hurt Kenshi and leave him with little cuts or rug burn on his pretty perfect wrap-around-my-throat-please hands. He wonders if his nose is too big. He wonders if he maybe should've invested in hair plugs after that one weird SNL dropout made a comment about his weird square hairline back when he guest starred on the Comedy Central roast of Megan Fox. He wonders if his eyes are too small or too large or too close together or too far apart. He wonders if he should smile so Kenshi can feel his dimples.

"Yep, it all feels just like how I remember it. Although the stubble has gotten a little longer."

That is certainly not the answer he was expecting to hear.

His voice is small, barely there, as he chokes out his question. "You remember what I look like?"

Kenshi nods. "I do."

Johnny goes to open his mouth to ask, "Then why did you ask to touch it if you already knew?"

But then Kenshi's fingers are on his lips, tracing them with the reverence he'd have holding Sento, and for a moment, Johnny finally thinks he's better than that stupid fucking sword. His smile has the same curves, the same edges. The only difference is that Kenshi can't accidentally hurt himself this way. (He can, however, accidentally hurt Johnny. But even that would be better than the alternative, he thinks.)

Kenshi's thumb is on his bottom lip, the rest of his hand now holding Johnny's chin. If he tilts it up even one degree, Johnny thinks it'll be over for him, that he'll be kissing Kenshi before he can even think to stop himself. He'd always had poor impulse control - why else would he have spent $3 million on a fucking sword to hang up in his living room?

"These are the same, too. I'm glad you weren't hurt in the fight, Cage."

Johnny feels so fucking overwhelmed. He wants to ask so many things. First of all, what does "these are the same, too" mean? Second, why does he care about the guy who bought his fucking family heirloom and refuses to give it back? Third, why does he insist on calling him Cage like one day he won't end up calling him Johnny and breaking his heart? Fourth, what in the goddamn fuck does he mean about Johnny's fucking lips being the goddamn motherfucking same?!

Johnny decides to play it up like he always does. "Well, 'course. Gotta keep my pretty mouth. It's what makes the big bucks. I wouldn't be the same without it."

Kenshi smirks, and thank Liu Kang's weird god siblings that he's blind right now, because Johnny is beet red, mouth agape, with his eyebrows raised (and he's fairly certain that something else also rises).

"That's true. You would not be the same without that infamous mouth." Kenshi accents the compliment(?) with a playful slap to Johnny's cheek, and then his hand is withdrawn entirely, leaving an empty ghost where he should still be holding Johnny's face in his hands.

He bites back the urge to immediately ask if Kenshi wants to know just how infamous the mouth is, and settles for clearing his throat and moving back to sitting against the wall next to Kenshi.

He looks over at him after he's gotten calmed down. His heart is still jackhammering against his ribs, but as long as Kenshi can't feel his pulse, he doesn't have to know. Kenshi seems to sense Johnny's eyes on him because he turns to face him, red blindfold all that stands between the gaping holes where Kenshi's eyes used to be and Johnny's gaze full of adoration.

The yakuza grabs Sento from his lap and hands it back to Johnny.

"Thank you. I appreciate you letting me hold it. And I appreciate your help in grounding me back to reality."

Johnny nods, taking Sento back and putting it where it so wrongfully deserves to be, strapped against Johnny's sore fucking back.

"No problem. Lemme know whenever you get the urge to feel out what an Adonis looks like, I'm happy to oblige." His comment is a means to an end. He plays up the egoism to ignore the shock that courses through him as Kenshi's fingertips touch his one last time.

He resolves then and there to give Sento back as soon as they escape from here, and they will escape.

This cannot be the last time he feels Kenshi's hands on him.

Baraka whispers, about as well as he can without lips or an inside voice, "Do they not realize how much they yearn for one another?"

Kung Lao shakes his head, putting a hand on Baraka's shoulder and immediately regretting it once he feels a spike tear into his palm. "They've just gotta be stupid about it for a bit longer. They'll figure it out."

"Surely their pining has to cause some sort of agony for you as well, does it not, Earthrealmer?" Baraka looks genuinely confused, or as close to it as he can get from what Kung Lao can tell.

Kung Lao hangs his head, sighing languidly. "Of course it does. But what else am I gonna do about it? Tell them? They're not gonna believe me. Trust me, they've got to figure it out on their own time, or they never will."

And as he sees Johnny's hand inch closer to Kenshi's, finally overlapping the tattoos and interlocking their fingers, Kung Lao thinks that maybe the agony won't last much longer.

[lilacxquartz]

Those Late Summer Nights | Chapter 8

satoru gojo x f!reader × suguru geto

plot: you moved to tokyo over the summer to take a teaching job. as you get settled in, you find yourself entangled in a toxic dynamic.

chapter summary: your father celebrated his birthday while Satoru kept up appearances. after the celebration, an unwelcome face shows up in your life again.

< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >

8. Reunions

The next morning had finally arrived and it was time to get through one of your least favourite time of the year; a family celebration.

You dreaded spending time with your family during certain types of events. Birthdays, celebrations and national holidays all made up those times and each moment spent with your folks felt all the more bleaker than the last.

It was never a simple congratulations with a gift parted away, but it was rather taken seriously, as though you had a script to follow along and play your part right, lest it all came undone.

Just as you had feared also, your parents momentarily paused in their tracks when they spotted you exiting the guest house along with Satoru in tow but they never once referenced it when you were back inside the family home.

This both relieved you, but also scared you.

Satoru immediately found himself separated from you as the two of you were given things to do right away. Both you and your mother took on the bulk of the responsibilities as your father sat himself down with Satoru in his company, curious to talk to the guy.

Every time it came to celebrating anything at all, your father would resign his responsibilities and hand them all off to the women of the household, a certain type of repeated condition that cycled through your mother’s birthday as well as your own.

Opting out of celebrating either was not an option.

As such, you grew to resent your father for his continued silence within the house. Whether it was proven by words or actions, it remained abundantly clear just how he viewed the family dynamic.

Satoru, otherwise to his credit, did offer to help out as he claimed to be skillful when it came to preparing at least sweet things if that’s something that needed help but your father was quick to whisk him away, reminding him of the important of a well maintained household balance.

You wanted to say something about that but you found yourself biting your tongue as you resisted the urge to tell your father off for being too old fashioned.

You knew that Satoru’s mind wouldn’t be swayed so easily, but you still worried about how this all looked for you. On you.

It was a thought that quickly went away as you prepared the food with your mother instead in a strained albeit comfortable silence. Your relationship with your mother wasn’t the best, but you were a reflection of her in many ways. It left you wondering if you had similar dreams, stifled away by a common hindrance.

Occasional small talk would surface but beyond that point, the conversation remained dry. At times she would attempt to thread through the seams by asking you how you’re settling into the city, how you’re finding life by yourself—only for the string to never seal itself off again, leaving a lot left unsaid instead.

And after everything was finally ready and prepped to go, you excused yourself upstairs to change into something a little more suitable for the occasion. Satoru had also been encouraged to do the exact same.

You wore a dress for the event; it was a lot different than the one that Suguru gave you but it was much better fitting for the occasion at hand. A dusty sage green midi dress with semi long sleeves capping at the elbows, decorative buttons and cinching along the waist with long flowy skirting.

Satoru didn’t have to comment, he could have kept as quiet as Suguru did but he couldn’t resist in doing so anyway. His eyes scrolled over your body in a similar sort of way to his friend, but it didn’t feel as strangely looming.

“You look good,” he simply said as he sported something slightly more formal himself. His smile felt genuine as his tone possessed something flirty, however keeping himself in check around the company of your parents.

It didn’t take too long for the rest of your relatives to arrive either, quickly filling out the once quiet house with the drone of chatter instead. A combination of rarely seen aunts and uncles along with the nieces and nephews that scurried around the house as well as your one remaining grandparent.

In total, it was a crowd of an additional eight.

Satoru continued to play his part as he promised; borrowing the spotlight away from you and standing within it instead. He got along criminally well with the chattier aunts, gifting you some breathing room in the process.

He didn’t really mind doing so either, it’s what he promised you, after all.

The relief continued to settle as the dinner finally passed with the relatives that now made their way back home. The secondary comfort being that the worst to come was now finally over and you could be back in the city quite soon again.

Satoru quickly reunited with you as the day came to an end, not saying much to your parents as they retreated back upstairs for the evening.

“We should probably go and find that plum wine for Shoko, right?” he asked, pausing a little as he spoke, it was evening by now and this wasn’t a big town so he wondered if there was any time to begin with, “…If the shops aren’t closed, that is?”

“It’s the brewery in town that sells it,” you replied to him, “everything else is closed but they’re open up quite late.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” he smiled, feeling comfortable once again. He hoped to lift your spirits even if you were on the verge of feeling burnt out, grabbing onto your wrist and leading you outside.

You didn’t protest this a second time, figuring that some fresh air would be good for you.

~~~

The walk to the brewery took a little longer and by the time you got closer to the town square, the sun had already started to set, leaving the settlement basking in a warm orange glow as a thick floral scent wafted in the air.

Satoru personally found himself enjoying the quieter parts of your personality, walking alongside you just because. It was because of the comfort he felt around you that he stopped himself taking things too far, too soon.

Upon reaching the inner town where the supposed bustle usually was, it now seemed closer to being a ghost town rather than what you were used to further down in the country.

You guided Satoru into the brewery, leading him into an almost out of place looking interior—large wooden barrels filling out the interior with decorative dark beams sloping against the roof creating a rustic look.

His eyes wandered around the building as he took it all in, finally settling at the menu just over the counter. The speciality looked like it was beer currently although plum wine did have a spot on there too.

There was a choice to either order to take home or drink out of glasses in the beer garden just outside.

You initially had offered to pay for the bottle because it was something Shoko asked from you specifically, but Satoru quickly stepped in on your behalf and with the bottle in tow, you decided to at least make an effort to tour him around the town while time still remained.

Not that there was much left to show off.

The most that the town had going for it was its greenery; a lush nature backdrop that grew between the cracks and seams with a few traditional buildings scattered throughout. It was pretty typical for rural Japan. Nostalgia unintentionally hit you as you walked through the streets, throwing you back to when you walked around all alone, those many years ago.

Satoru didn’t seem to mind all too much, never once showing discomfort around you as you led him in and out of the many neighbourhoods.

“You know, this place is very calm, actually,” he said, filling out a moment of silence, “but it is boring, I do have to admit that much.”

“I guess it isn’t that bad if you’re either really young or really old, but just not so much in between,” you replied in agreement with him.

“I’m just mostly surprised that you didn’t go insane living here,” he laughed a little, hoping to lighten things up with you. He liked seeing you smile.

“I mean, I did to an extent,” you replied with a bitter smile, “the town itself is fine, it’s just the people in-“

You then froze.

It was as if you had manifested the devil herself; the brief peace that you had experienced seeming to have quickly evaporated—something, someone familiar approaching you to take you back to hell.

You gulped as you surrendered, suddenly shying away and attempting to take a different route down the road instead. This however was quickly caught on by Satoru who had a different idea in mind, not wanting for you to hide from your problems for once.

Maybe the way he was going about it was wrong, since this was your battle to figure out, but he wanted to help in the ways he knew he could.

As a teacher, he wasn’t all that unfamiliar with bullying from an outside perspective, even if he did turn a blind eye to it as a teen and while you were his equal, not a student, he still felt as though it was something better to face than just ignore.

Standing up to Yui might not have been in your cards, forcing her to acknowledge her past might not work, but maybe teaching you that you could just move on from your past?

Not that it was his place but…

It wasn’t as though you were about face someone he didn’t know about, either. He could tell from your body language alone that this was the bully that you spoke of from when you had first met.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he assured you in a softer voice, patting your back to reinforce your folded posture once again, “nothing will happen, I won’t let it.”

In truth, he found the situation almost a little… amusing? He wasn’t a total stranger to the sway of influencial families and how they’d bend the public to their will by abusing their status in life. Seeing similar inner politics being reflected in regular civilian clans was a little strange to him, leaving him wondering exactly what type of mess this other woman was caught up in.

In the cities, sorcerer clans dominated the population. He speculated that in villages and towns, it must have been financial, some type of dominating business or simply just old money.

With that in mind, he thought that the bully in question therefore was overcompensating for something. It was likely that it was a lack of control in her life, so he she took it out on someone who had a history of not fighting back—not that he blamed you for it or anything.

The more he thought about it, the more petty he found it but he at least did get it, even if he couldn’t help but find the whole thing a little funny. For such an irrelevant town, one that he didn’t even know existed until you pointed it out on the map, to drive away its own people was hilarious to him.

What a joke.

And when this woman began to speak, he had to go the extra way to hold back stifled laughter.

“[name]! It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” Yui announced to you in a higher pitched tone, emulating some shred of care as her words feigned politeness. You wondered why this was happening, but upon seeing her eyes flick over to Satoru, you quickly understood why.

Satoru saw through this too, being completely used to this sort of person and situation. He liked attention, but he didn’t like it at the expense of others.

“Hi Yui,” you greeted in a resigned tone.

“Back in town so soon?” she asked in a forced polite voice, she wasn’t going to do anything that got her into trouble, not after the incident anyway.

“Yeah, uh, just visiting because-“ you mumbled, not wanting to indulge but you were cut off anyway.

“—sorry, but can you speak up? You’re so quiet.” she interrupted.

You swallowed away your last remaining shred of sanity, still not understanding why Satoru didn’t allow for you to just take a detour.

“It’s my dad’s birthday, so I’m in town for the weekend,” you replied with some strained added volume.

“Oh, the construction worker, right?”

“Actually he works in a facto—“

“—so, who’s your friend?” Yui asked, cutting you off once again as her intentions were finally made abundantly clear. You were the opening act for her to get closer to Satoru, thinking that a half-assed attempt of small talk would be enough to garner the attention of him.

You paused momentarily, unsure of how to actually introduce him. It was easier to go off on implications with your parents because that’s something you mulled over in your mind for a whole week, however suddenly doing so around your tormentor was a whole different story.

“He’s uh, a close friend,” you replied at long last; he was a fabricated lover, and while he did promise to play his part for you while he was here, you just couldn’t say it to her.

Satoru watched this happen from the sidelines, not wanting to interrupt unless he absolutely had to do so. He considered that he would have to talk to her soon, because his involvement was made clear.

He did find it a little disappointing that you didn’t use the boyfriend line for him though because he would have put on his best act for you.

“Oh, really…?” Yui replied, sounding almost disappointed as her eyes lit up with a new sort of flare, maintaining her friendly smile.

Yui seemed to be completely ignoring you now which you felt was strangely petty given the ages you were all currently in, since you weren’t teenagers anymore like before.

“Just a close friend?” she asked, setting her sights on Satoru next, “well if you’re ever craving some company that’s more suited to your liking, then-“

“Not a chance,” Satoru said, shutting down the attempt right away, not wanting to indulge in it any further. He could admit to being amused by the whole situation, but he didn’t harbour any interest in it all the same.

He dragged you past her as he settled on ignoring the bully instead. In his mind, you two weren’t at school anymore so regardless of what happened back then should be left behind in the past. Had Yui been more aggressive though, then maybe—but it was simple enough to just stifle her ego for now.

He could have gone further, but he didn’t.

As he walked by with you, you were left behind with some type of lingering confusion in the aftermath of things. He didn’t quite put an end to the problem at hand, but he didn’t let you dwell on it any further.

Something about this experience did manage to awake something else for him though, a sudden burst need of responsibility—feelings that were too confusing to understand right away but they were there.

What started off as him putting off his clan duties and showing off to a town he didn’t care about now simmered off into a realisation of wanting to keep you close, no matter what.

It sure felt complicated, though.

“You’re fine, right?” he spoke up after a while now that you both were far gone from the scene; feeling partial regret from making you face your past. He no longer wanted you to do so—wanting for you to move on, instead.

He didn’t like how he felt right now, it felt too familiar, almost. It was like looking into a parallel mirror as he finally understood why you hated this place so damn much.

It was a reminder that things had to be a certain way—just as his own family name emphasised the same point.

At least however, he could change the course of your life by interfering in the same way he was determined to give his students a chance at a more carefree life in spite of the life they’re forced to lead.

“Y-yeah, sorry, I-I just didn’t think I’d run into her here so soon,” you stammered in response, feeling stressed beyond belief from the encounter, thankful that you didn’t have to brave it alone, “I thought I could avoid her, but, I guess not…”

“Don’t sweat it,” he continued, forcing a smile to spread across his face as he pondered his own feelings, “nothing happened anyway, so we can just move on, right?”

“R-right,” you replied, nodding along.

Satoru sighed, he never thought anything would happen anyway. Teenagers could be needlessly cruel, but if Yui belonged to an influential family, then she would be unwise to stain the reputation in adulthood.

Feeling a little protective, he challenged an idea, not quite caring how it sounded.

“In fact,” he spoke just a little quieter than before as he drew you in by wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “she’s so irrelevant, hell, this whole town is so irrelevant that you don’t even need to think about it all again after you’re back.”

You responded with a nervous laugh in response, feeling unsure in which direction he was going exactly.

“I’m being serious, [name],” he said again, although moving away from you to gain some distance away from him, “you don’t need anyone else, not when you have me, Shoko and Suguru, so just forget about this place and never look back again.”

(And if you tried to go back, he’d stop you.)

“And my parents…?” you added to the list, still thinking he was joking.

“Nobody else,” he corrected you, feeling a little protective. He wasn’t always like this, so he felt like he really had to emphasise his point since he wasn’t joking around for once.

“I guess you might be right,” you replied as you thought about it some more; it wasn’t like you got anything out of this trip by coming to see your family, all it did was strain your relationship with your parents further.

Then again, this whole progression felt too soon—too fast, to abandon your old life in order to cling onto your new life felt unrealistic as well, no matter how much reassurance you’d get from the trio.

Was this level of attachment normal?

As you considered the implications in your mind, you slowly got used to the idea. To Satoru it seemed simple enough because you didn’t have to leave behind any crucial responsibilities, so the choice to move on was something you’d a fool to not take advantage of.

By the time you were both back at your family home, he led you back inside the guest house and didn’t do a single thing near you because he had you right where he wanted you; where he had his own hopes secured vicariously through your decision.

It wasn’t a malicious action he thought, unlike what you were feeling. This was just him looking out for you, keeping away from a place that was bad for you.

So come the next day, he rushed you out of the town as he barely gave you enough time to pack your things and to say goodbye to your very own parents, eager to get you back to what he thought to be a better life back in Tokyo.

You weren’t going to actually cut off your parents though, even if you had promised so under the spur of the moment. You were going to reduce contact instead and let them influence your decisions less.

As you sat back into the passenger seat of his car, you weren’t quite sure what you were feeling just yet.

It wasn’t quite entrapment as you felt with Suguru when he pushed your boundaries, but it wasn’t quite freedom either.

Regardless of where you went, it felt like the decision to do so was never truly your own.

So, have you managed to change at all?

Or were you still trapped in that shell?

(Is this how your mother also felt at times?)

[coolshadowtwins]

LiuShen Fanficion Round Up! Lets Go!

This took way too long! These are hard to do on mobile. Thank you to everyone who gave recs! If anyone recommends any other LiuShen/BingLiuShen fics, I’ll add them to this later!

I might have missed some that people have recommended, so tell me if I did!

The clueless fairy and his knight by sailorstar165

Summary:

Yet another filler quest from the pesky System in his head leads Shen Qingqiu to a heavily damaged heavenly raiment that inconceivably now belongs to him.

This was impossible for two reasons.

One, Lunar Fairies are female only. So sayeth the "Great Master" Airplane Shooting Toward the Sky when he wrote the abomination that was PIDW, and last he'd checked, Shen Qingqiu was very much male.

Two, Shen Qingqiu is just some one-dimensional scum villain! He was a garbage person for the sake of villainy! He shouldn't have a tragic backstory and missing family and some fated role to play in this universe!

When the System lured him in with the promise of hidden lore, Shen Yuan wasn't signing up for this!

Cultivate: slow life on a monster infested mountain by NeonGhostCat

Summary:

When trying to transfer Shen Yuan from the real world to Proud Immortal Demon Way, the System runs into an error. The transfer is not complete.

Shen Yuan is dropped off at the foot of a mountain aware of two things: he's in the story, and the Shen Qingqiu of this world is not only aware but thinks he tried to possess his body — and he's PISSED. Shen Yuan tries to opt out and live a simple life on what locals tell him is a monster-infested mountain no one in their right mind would bother with.

Sounds like a great hiding spot!

(TL;DR: Stardew Scum Villain Valley Mountain.)

Reincarnation not desired, transmigration not required by Pegunicent

Summary:

Shen Yuan dies. Then he decides to finally get a life.

Star crossed wires by silversinnbees

Summary:

Shen Yuan’s family has been pestering him to get an android for months now. His health had recently taken a dip that landed him in the hospital for a bit and an ultimatum had been issued: either Shen Yuan goes into some kind of assisted living facility (which, no), or he purchases an android fitted out with caretaking programming to live with him. He had griped about it for the longest time, not liking either option given to him but he ultimately decided that an android in his living space was a better option than essentially living in a hospital.

 

Shen Yuan brings an android named Liu Qingge into his life to take care of him. He never could have expected that the android was capable of so much more than just caring.

Metagaming by esama

Summary:

[Self-Saving System Activated! You will be now returned to your original starting position.]

Shen Qingqiu dies and gets a second chance and decides to try a different approach. (Note: this does a many pairings, not just LiuShen!)

Meet Cute (these dorks) by Mayvn

Summary:

The instant he turned to dash into the fight, Liu Qingge froze as he saw Not Shen Qingqiu standing coolly over one unconscious thug, guqin in both hands and still in a pose that clearly showed he had, in fact, just bludgeoned someone with the end of his guqin. Not Shen Qingqiu smirked and tilted his head back cockily.
---
LQG finds SY running away from a sticky situation and brings him back to Cang Qiong in hopes that he can keep the man from getting himself mugged. SY is just relieved he doesn’t have to pretend to be a girl anymore.

Blanket Forts and Rainy Days by NeonGhostCat

Summary:

Mere weeks after the Demon Invasion incident, Liu Qingge visits Qing Jing Peak to discover the disciples hard at work building a monstrosity of blankets and bamboo. Like the students, he becomes inexplicably drawn into Shen Qingqiu's orbit in spite of himself.

Or: How Shen Yuan causes chaos under the flimsy guise of education and Liu Qingge heroically tries to keep himself oblivious to the state of his own squishy heart.

the stages of [...] by tennssi

Summary:

Despite all efforts, Luo Binghe died before the abyss event, and the only thing that saved Shen Qingqiu from being transported back to his world were the points he painstakingly accumulated to prevent Binghe’s blackening.

Stuck in a state of mourning that he himself is unaware of, he finds an unexpected comfort from a certain Peak Lord, who despite everything, never left his side since.

Sharing is Caring by celardor

Summary:

“Liu Qingge! I told you not to drink the water!” Shen Qingqiu shouts. His thoughts are a panicked whirl- is it going to have the same effect that it did in the original story?

 

Liu Qingge just stares at him in shock.

 

Shen Qingqiu’s question is answered when he suddenly hears Liu Qingge’s voice. Liu Qingge isn’t speaking, though- his mouth never moves. No, Shen Qingiu is hearing Liu Qingge’s voice inside his head.

Liu Qingge’s voice says, “Holy shit. I can see his nipples.”

 

They both stare at each other in horror. At that moment, there’s a happy little ding and a System notification pops up in front of him.

 

[Congratulations! Bonus mission activated: Sharing is Caring!]

 

“Fuck,” Shen Qingqiu says, with feeling.

 

*************

Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge accidentally trigger a wife plot that leads to them forming a telepathic connection.

(This one is a favorite of mine! I’ve re-read it multiple times, and it has an inprogress sequel.)

The Guardian Ghost and the Bookish Fairy by NeonGhostCat

Summary:

Liu Qingge survives his qi deviation… in the form of a ghost. Having nothing better to do and no desire to be exorcised, he follows after Shen Qingqiu and decides to haunt him for the hell of it.

It doesn't take him long to realize that not only is this not the Shen Qingqiu he knew, but there is more going on. And apparently Shang Qinghua is involved too? Ah! He understands now — they're immortal fairies given the mission to thwart a dark prophecy of the sect's collapse. Well. He can help with that. And how better than to protect the bookish fairy that's taken his old foe's place?

There are no ulterior motives. Why think such foolish things???

TL;DR: What happens if SY transmigrates just a little too late?

Story marked "Chooses Not To Warn" purely because LQG becomes a ghost in the first scene and I didn't want to agonize over whether that required a MCD warning or not. If it does to you, this is your heads up! No other archive warnings are necessary.

Moments by hummingbirdhum

Summary:

Liu Qingge never paid Shen Qingqiu attention unless he had to, before. But things are different now, and in a million little ways, this new Shen Qingqiu keeps managing to make him...feel things. Things he's not used to.

Basically SQQ keeps being attractive and adorable without realizing it and eventually it's going to build up to the point LQG has to do something about it.

Updates will be sporadic in length and in upload date. Starts pre-abyss.

every memory of you by beta_babelfish

Summary:

Before Shen Qingqiu can voice his agreement and his opinion that they are doing an excellent job of getting things done, a knock sounds at the door. The other Shen Qingqiu sighs heavily, and stands. “You ought to hide, I suppose,” he says. “That’ll be Yue Qingyuan.”


“Oh? Is there some business with the sect?” Shen Qingqiu asks, immediately curious.


“Oh, he’s here to clear my meridians, as usual,” Other-Him says nonchalantly.


Shen Qingqiu blinks. He blinks again. “As usual?” he says after what feels like an eternity, voice sounding strange and an unsettled feeling churning in his gut. “What about Liu-shidi?”


Other-Him looks at him blankly for a moment. “Who?”

Or, Shen Qingqiu is wifeplotted into an alternate timeline in which he did not save Liu Qingge.

Fowl Weather Friends by Koiichaser_lucorinth

Summary:

Shen Qingqiu had always felt a small disconnect from his wings, coming from a world that didn’t have them. Like the opposite of phantom-limb syndrome. Things that were a part of him, yet felt separate.

They were cool in concept, yet gave him no end of trouble.

Like old wounds, they ached and cramped in bad weather or exhaustion. As if the Original Goods had gotten them broken in places multiple times before healing away the physical signs as he cultivated.

Also, they were just annoying!

They required so much upkeep! Feathers constantly shed and had to grow in, which was itchy as hell. When they grew in, they did so with sheaths you had to scratch off as they emerged, but you couldn’t scratch too hard because OOPS, was that a blood feather? If it was, congrats on just breaking open what was basically a straw directly to a vein. Better pluck it all out from the root if you ever want it to stop bleeding! And then you had to heal the gaping hole the correct way, or the next pinfeather might not grow back correctly.

…Shen Qingqiu might not have devoted his patience.

If he were to be honest, he might have slipped up a little in regards to the care of his wings as of late.

I Wish You Were My Husband by Feynite

Summary:

AU based on The Dreamer in the Spring Boudoir (familiarity with that story's not required).

Wherein Shen Yuan transmigrates into a harem intrigues romance novel (gay edition), Yue Qingyuan really fucks up, Liu Qingge is not suitable for his job, and no one even remotely sees Luo Binghe coming. (Note: this is maybe a stretch of LiuShen? But I think it counts lol)

You Take Me By the Heart When You Take Me By the Hand by UnhookedStar

Summary:

Liu Qingge knows that as smart as he is, Shen Yuan is often startlingly oblivious to the implications of his actions. Liu Qingge has learned this the hard way after years of obsessing over countless overly familiar casual gestures. However, while Shen Yuan's sense of personal space has always been practically nonexistent, he's been even more sticky than usual lately. He keeps casually touching Liu Qingge; brushing his hair out of his face, randomly reaching out and patting his head, leaning in close to say something and never leaning away again. The other day, Shen Yuan had held his hand. In public.

 

Or, Liu Qingge has no idea why Shen Yuan has been acting so much more familiar with him lately, but all of this casual touching is starting to push at the limits of his self control.

Meanwhile, Shen Yuan just wants to know when his boyfriend is finally going to kiss him.

The Journey Home, The Hollow Victory by MonroeKnox

The journey back to Cang Qiong Mountain seemed longer than it’s ever been.

 

Unlike so many times before, peak lord Liu Qingge was returning victorious.

But, in his heart, there was nothing to celebrate.

 

Liu Qingge could not outrun his grief forever. Especially not when he has finally brought Shen Qingqiu home.

Misery by Calamity Butterfly

Summary:

"With shaking fingers, he traces the planes of what will be Shen Qingqiu’s face. He brushes dirt from the body’s hair, rearranges its arms so it looks more peaceful, wipes a smear of mud from its chest. The body doesn’t exactly look dead but isn’t currently breathing and doesn’t have the… seeming of life. Shang Qinghua insisted that Shen Qingqiu’s soul was not yet fully inside the body, but Liu Qingge is sure he can sense Shen Qingqiu’s presence in the clearing, if not in the body. He hopes Shen Qingqiu is able to be aware of and comforted by, at some level, the knowledge that his body is safe and being cared for by one who cares for him very deeply."

A very Not Ok Liu Qingge finds Shen Qingqiu's plant body before Shen Qingqiu wakes up. He tends and cares for it and keeps it safe.

Another Time, Another Place by Mayvn

Summary:

Another Luo Binghe suddenly appeared and Liu Qingge died trying to save Shen Qingqiu, only to find himself waking up in a strange room full of strange things.


Losing his ‘apartment’? Cheating girlfriend kicking him to the curb for a rich ‘fuerdai’ after stealing all his money? What’s a ‘dogblood drama’? He doesn’t care about any of that! What happened to Shen Qingqiu?!


---


Basically, LQG gets transmigrated into a dogblood drama, but just wants to cultivate and live happily with SY. If only these damn characters would get a hint and stop trying to drag him back into the plot!
Meanwhile, after being forcefully repatriated, SY uses all his superpowers as an avid trashy web-novel reader to try to predict what will happen and protect LQG from all the shitty tropes while also dealing with the realization that there’s been cultivation in the modern world this whole time!

Not to mention the familiar-but-different faces popping up here and there…

rsvp me to world's end by beta_babelfish

Summary:

FUTURE Shen Qingqiu [FSQQ] 4130 HOURS FROM NOW opened a memo on board WELCOME TO HELL

FSQQ: OKAY. First things first if the term “peerless cucumber” means anything to you you’re in the right place. If it doesn’t then you’re gonna be banned immediately. thanks
PAST Shen Qingqiu [PSQQ] 45 HOURS AGO responded to the memo
PSQQ: what the hell is a peerless cucumber
FSQQ banned PSQQ from responding to the memo
FSQQ: what did i just FUCKING say!!!!
FSQQ: anyway
FSQQ: you know that shitty webcomic. Proud Immortal Demon's Game? about that game called SBURB that causes the end of the world and the creation of a new one with frogs or whatever. luo binghe is there, he rips apart paradox space and uses his fuckin insane powers to take over like three different universes and all that?
FSQQ: you’re in it now
FSQQ: have fun
CURRENT Shen Qingqiu [CSQQ] RIGHT NOW responded to the memo
CSQQ: WHAT THE FUCK

Or, the Scum Villain/Homestuck crossover that absolutely nobody asked for, but you're getting anyway

A Night on Cang Qiong Mountain by NeonGhostCat

Summary:

Shen Qingqiu frets over the upcoming Endless Abyss event. Wanting to figure out a way to give his little white sheep fond memories of his time at the sect to hold onto in the Abyss, he remembers Halloween, something he looked forward to each year in his previous life (even if it was only through game events). System steps in to offer him a Limited Time Event of his own.

These are stories based off of the same premise that can be read stand-alone if preferred. Technically you could read them in any order.

NSFW

We'll survive, you and I by rinsled05

Summary:

On the bed, back against Liu Qingge’s chest, Shen Yuan is grinding his ass against him, soft, breathless sounds slipping out of his mouth.

Liu Qingge's skin buzzes with need, and he wants to put his hands on Shen Yuan’s hips, feel them shift under his palms. Wants to hear Shen Yuan whimper as he matches Shen Yuan’s pace and rocks back. To suck and nip at Shen Yuan’s skin, leaving bruises in the shape of his mouth.

But he's too aware of Luo Binghe's presence on the other side of the bed, the curl of his arm around Shen Yuan’s waist. Liu Qingge can’t tell if Shen Yuan is awake, either, if he even realizes that the body spooned against him belongs to Liu Qingge. It’s entirely possible that he thinks it’s—

“Qingge,” Shen Yuan whines.

Oh.


In which Liu Qingge fights to keep himself and Shen Yuan alive in a zombie apocalypse, knowing that Shen Yuan would have married Luo Binghe if not for, well, zombies. Liushen main, with hints of Bingqiu, Bingliu, and eventual Bingliushen.

the horns of a dilemma by lavenderandrue

Summary:

Shen Qingqiu doses himself with truth mushrooms on purpose and gets more than he bargained for.

returned tenfold by lavenderandrue

Summary:

“We were thinking perhaps a little game of sorts? An exchange of winnings and gifts?”
Bristling immediately, Liu Qingge draws himself up ramrod straight. “I have no wish to play your games, demon,” he spits. Shen Qingqiu makes some kind of small noise behind his fan, perhaps a laugh or a sound of dismay, and Liu Qingge tries to ignore the way the tips of his ears heat up.
“Actually, Shidi, it was this shixiong’s idea.” Shen Qingqiu uncrosses his legs and sits a little straighter on his throne, which is far more ornate than Luo Binghe’s. The solemn dignity is marred a little by the pile of cushions spilling out from underneath his robes and the bag of melon seeds resting on the arm.
Liu Qingge’s chest aches faintly. This is fairly normal when he’s around Shen Qingqiu, so he ignores it.

Dual Cultivation by Acernor

Summary:

“Shizun said I made you feel so good,” Luo Binghe says, “that I could fuck you any time I wanted.”

Liu Qingge stops breathing for a second.

“What,” he blurts out.

Shen Qingqiu could tell he’d been into it?!

[the-fluff-piece]

And here's the request from @pastel9girlbunny000die which was commented on the announcement post:

"I don't know if this is still going, I really don't know how to make a request other than through comments? But can I get 7,🥰, sanji, (y/n) is doing the proposal"

This is for the now closed Follower milestone event

Also check out my masterlists for stories and headcanons

Here's

Engagement cake

You've been with this sweet cutie for a while now and now he almost married someone else.

He looked too hot in his wedding suit, so you decide to take matters into your own hands and make him your husband.

Cute, dramatic superfluff, y/n tries to bake a cake for him, than proposes

Sanji, your boyfriend, had the audacity to even consider marrying another and you've given him a hard time.

You either loved him to pieces or threw tantrums because he really, really disappointed you, but he was also still the perfect gentleman of your dreams. It was a mixed bag of emotions. He had to sleep in his hammock with the other boys again because you couldn't make up your mind if you wanted to kiss or kill him.

He's been nothing but a poor little cutie, tip toeing around you, always armored with a treat to appease you.

Another point that made you mad was: that Pudding girl was perfect for him. She was cute and busty and really proficient at baking and cooking as well. You could already see them open up a little bistro together and kissing in the kitchen.

This was the turning point of your relationship - he needed to decide whether he was yours or not. You already bought an engagement Ring with a sapphire - blue like his eyes - and decided to bake the cake of cakes for him. To show him you were just as good as she was.

The famous North Blue sweet had 16 thin layers, between each would be a fine layer of filling. It was topped with a crown of meringues. Hard to bake, but if you could pull it off, he would know that you were just as good as that girl, even though you're not directly a baker.

You got the ring and you got the recipe - you just had to wait for the kitchen to be free so you could actually bake it without him knowing.

The first time was an absolute disaster. It was a crumbling, far to liquid mess of butter and biscuit, the meringue was coals.

You fed it to Luffy to destroy the evidence and tried again. And again. And again. That thing was hard to make. At this pace, you would be done when Luffy was pirate King and Sanji's children with Pudding were going to school. You opted for easier and easier options - until you arrived at bland lemon cake. A uniform dough in rectangular shape with lemons.

Eventually, you produced an acceptable version. It had a gummi-like consistency and it looked like it exploded, but it was the best you could hope to manage. Your respect for Pudding had grown, but not enough to.givr Sanji up. You were at the end of your strength. It had to do.

You invited Sanji to deck for tea and told him not to bring anything - you would take care of it.

He showed up with an unreadable expression, a serene smile was on his face and he was a full gentleman - just not the man you knew. No kiss, no kneeling, just silent observation.

He greeted you with a serious "my lady" and sat down, looking over the less than perfect cake and probably horrible tea you poured. It threw you completely off guard.

"So uhm, I, well I baked you a cake. And made tea. I hope you like it" you tried to keep in control of the situation, cutting the cake and handing him a piece.

He politely said "thank you" and began to eat. You forgot to take one yourself, his strange behavior made your mind race. Was he disappointed? Did he want to break up after you were moping for weeks?

The fork went in between his perfect lips and he chewed slowly. Still not letting on what he thought. Your heart pounded and your stomach turned. He swallowed. Another bite. Chewing, swallow. He looked at his plate as you stared in his face, or rather: at his mouth. Waiting for a smile, or a word...but nothing.

Your gaze wandered up to study his eyes. He briefly looked up - his eyes looked wet. Another bite.

As you watched that sorry excuse of a cake vanish in his mouth, a tear ran past the corner of his mouth. He was...crying? It was the last thing you expected. You expected a gentle let down, but no scene.

"You OK, honey?" You asked.

He nodded while chewing.

"I am" He answered and laid down the fork.

"That is the best cake I have ever tasted" He calmly said as his lip began to tremble.

"I uhm, thank you" You answered as you tried not to cry yourself.

You swept the tears off his cheek and he caught your hand to give it a gentle kiss before pressing his cheek against your palm with such need, you just had to get up and sit down on his lap to hug him to your chest.

"Do you forgive me?" He asked, choking. Now you were really worried. He was near your breasts and didn't get a nosebleed. He was either seriously distressed or sick.

"Of course I do" you answered, stroking his soft hair with your fingers.

"I wasn't sure if I messed up too bad." He said with a relieved smile.

He touched your cheek. His hand trailed down your collarbone and stopped at the small pool of tears he had caused.

"I'm so sorry I ruined your clothes with my tears" He cried. "I don't deserve-" You put a finger on his mouth. There he was again. Dramatic Sanji was back - now you were the one to be relieved.

"Close your eyes now" you told him as you fished the engagement ring out of your pocket. You took his hand and slipped it onto his ring finger.

His eyes shot open to look at the blue rock at his finger, his mouth opened and closed as unsaid words seemed to bubble out of him.

"I just thought I snatch you away to keep you for myself. Will you be my husband?" You whispered into his ear, enjoying the tickle of his hair on your face.

His head turned to you as he was clearly overwhelmed by everything that was happening, tears flowing from his eyes in a thick stream now. Without warning, he clutched you to him and screamed the loudest

"YES"

The new world has ever heard and soon you were smothered by kisses and promises of eternal love and romance.

Eventually, he seemed exhausted and just cuddled up to you - at which point you looked up and into the shocked eyes of the entire crew. You began patting Sanji's back to alert him to the company.

He looked up at you with puffy eyes "huh?" He asked, sniffing.

You turned his head towards your crewmates and instead of embarrassment of being witnessed during this intimate moment, he grinned broadly, showing his hand with the ring proudly.

Nami gasped and asked for the price, while Robin cheered and Brook broke into song. Franky ran away with an "ew" as Zoro looked flustered and Usopp tried to calm Luffy and Chopper, who were afraid Sanji would leave with you.

When everyone had said their congratulations and marveled at his ring, Sanji announced a big feast and carried you into the kitchen so you could "help" him, which meant you sat at the counter and watched him do what he loved while he periodically stared at the ring at his finger and smiled. You got to taste everything he made first to reassure him that it was great.

The party lasted until late at night, there was lots of food and drink for the entire crew and Sanji couldn't stop talking about the wedding buffet he already planned in his head. When everything was eaten up and cleaned, you could finally fall into bed together for the first time in weeks.

As he cuddled up to you and mumbled more plans for your future, you just had to ask: "the cake was terrible, wasn't it?"

"No, it was great" He answered.

You smacked him "liar!"

He chuckled.

"No, it's the truth! It was the best cake in the world, because you made it for me!" He kissed your forehead. "Just for me"

I hope you people liked this one!

The best ingredient is always love (also butter and sugar)

[calinaannehart]

The Parts We Play - Chapter 7

It’s two weeks before he sees Buck again. Filming has started and all of Buck’s time is taken up by sixteen-hour days on set which means that, by the time he finally has a day off, there’s only a week to go before the gala and Eddie still has nothing to wear.

Chimney, Hen, and Bobby all have their outfits sorted already. Chimney had even brought his suit in one shift, putting it on and parading through the engine bay as though he was walking the runway in Milan. He had opted for a navy suit with a wide check pattern and a light blue pocket square. It’s the smartest Eddie has ever seen the man look.

Bobby had shown a picture on his phone of him holding his suit, the garment bag open enough to show a light grey three-piece with a light and dark blue striped tie. Judging by the large smile on Bobby’s face in the photo Eddie suspects it was a new purchase found with Athena’s assistance.

There had been some debate amongst them as to whether or not Hen would go for a floor-length gown, but when they had suggested it to her she had cast a raised eyebrow at them and asked when they had ever seen her in a dress. She had mentioned something about a pantsuit but otherwise remained tight-lipped, never one to be overly interested in the subject of fashion.

Eddie has looked for something for himself, perhaps not as hard as he should have given that the gala is now only six days away, but formalwear isn’t his forte. He’s much more comfortable in a henley and jeans. The only suit he owns is the one he wore to his niece’s christening four years ago and even then it had been an affordable off-the-rack option from the nearest outlet mall, worn once and then buried in the back of the closet.

Which is how he now finds himself in an upscale store in Beverly Hills, trying to hold in his panic at the price tags on the suits Buck keeps handing him to try on.

“$1600?” He squeaks incredulously, backing away in fear of contaminating the suit from just being in close proximity to it.

“Just try it on,” Buck holds the hanger out to him, shaking it a little. “It’s just to check the style, that’s all.”

Eddie wants to argue that he has to have tried on most of the store by now but he takes the suit anyway, rolling his eyes at the triumphal grin on Buck’s face, and retreats into the dressing room.

Things had been a little awkward between them in the days immediately following what had transpired at Buck’s house, texts between the two which up until then had been flowing steadily every day had dwindled to a few every other day. Even then, they were short and to the point. When Buck had picked him up that morning in his huge, shiny truck, there hadn’t been their usual full-body hug that they would normally have shared, rather a stilted bumping of fists.

Conversation on the drive to Beverly Hills had also been a little forced, but once they had stepped into the store and Buck had the salespeople gathering different styles of suits for Eddie to try on, the tension in the man’s shoulders had melted away.

One of the many things Eddie has learned about Buck over the past two months is that he needs to keep busy, whether it’s a physical task or a mental one, Buck always needs to be doing something.

Today, that something is making sure Eddie is appropriately suited and booted for the gala.

Read on AO3.

[melancholicstation]

The Socially Active Secretary: Chapter Three

pairing: robert francis kennedy female ❤︎ original character charlotte agapov (secretary!reader)

author's note: a little impromptu diner date ... well why not

synopsis: charlotte agapov, a divorcee whom recently moved back to the states after a disastrous lovers quarrel, assumes the secretarial position to the most important man in America, but it is not he who has captured her attention, no. instead, it's his meek younger brother, the runt of the kennedy pack, bobby francis kennedy.

[ 1640 words ]

taglist: @kennediva @absurdlyvintage @bloxholden35 @astro-vibes-bro @h-l-vlovesvintage @kimcrystal123 @krazyforkennedy @fortheloveofjos @remotewatch

chapter one, two, three

masterlist, charlotte moodboard, rfk moodboard

Chapter Three

May 3rd, 1962

Charlotte started off her evening with a plate of boiled eggs and butter, and steaming coffee on the hotplate. Dressed in a cotton voile nightgown with a smocking along the neckline, that was constricting in a pleasant manner. Since her aunt had gone into town to visit one of her, despite her genuine personality, many toffee-nosed, haughty friends in Plymouth Charlotte was left to her own devices. A state of being that Charlotte would come to know was entirely dangerous.

This loneliness of Charlotte had birthed a new idea of hers that she should re-engage with the nightlife that she had so recklessly abandoned in her early twenties. Charlotte felt that those nights were the only ones in which she truly felt like the woman she had been forced to push down.

The nineteen year-old version of Charlotte seemed to be football stadium sized gulfs away from the 29 year old woman she had morphed into. Nineteen year old Charlotte was free, and accompanied by a girlish charm of ambivalence and whimsy. In all her glory dressed in her jumpsuit and chainmail balaclava, eating steak tartare and drinking whiskey sours at Harry Cipriani every night. This nose-dove into nostalgia turned into Charlotte, through the assistance of a very rickety very unstable wicker chair, finding old photo albums kept in the attic of her aunt that her mom had stored years ago. Some were of Charlotte departing in and out of restaurants with a big, bright grin on her face, others of her with some friends from boarding school. They were all pictured posing very dramatically on top of each other in such a way that instantly gave way to the fact that they all had done theatre as adolescents.

As a result of this Charlotte decided that she was going to make the most out of this getaway and book a four course tasting for one at Cuvée at Chatham Inn. How decedent!, she thought. She could feel her excitement churning up inside her, what a silly thing to get excited to spend dinner along Charlotte thought, teasing herself. But the predicament of what she was going to wear however, was less exhilarating for the young woman.

She had now been staring down the mate-shift closet she had made in the interim period of her stay in the cape for almost an hour, searching for something to fit the opulence of the Curvée that wasn't in the dull muted tones that Charlotte had dressed herself in lately. Most items were textured mohair, cotton, or suede in organised colours of military green, cloudy brown, and porcelain. Certainly not fit for the Chatham Inn that's for sure. That was, until Charlotte in her almost manic manhunt for the perfect outfit came across her equivalent of the green light in the Gatsby novel; a strapless satin minidresses gathered at the hem in light khaki.

The best option of a bad bunch sure, but it would have to do. She opted for a pair of wedges in patent leather and a hand-painted shoulder bag given to Charlotte by her esoterically inclined grandmother from her dad's side. After applying rouge and lipstick all in shades reminiscent of smoked salmon, she gathered her hair in a half-up half-down style that she had remembered dog-earing in the April issue of Women's Weekly. And with that, she pranced out the door.

Cervée wasn't a quick walk so Charlotte called a car to drive her to the Inn. Charlotte should really look into the mindfulness her mother had been just raving about in their most recent call, because it appeared that Charlotte had zoned out for the entirety of the 20 minute car ride and only been broken from the trance at the prompt of the driver asking for a 20% tip, which she would then politely give.

As she entered the Inn, and was promptly escorted to the private dining space of the restaurant by a man donned in black dress pants, Charlotte was greeted by the aroma of cinnamon and patchouli filling all her fourth sense.

The room seemed calmly bare with only one person at the bar, and another elderly couple seated by the bay window facing the coastline.

The first course, Hamachi was delectable and paired with an equally excellent wine pairing. However Charlotte was temporarily distracted by the voice of the person ordering a second Mai Tai cocktail, a voice so familiar that Charlotte was sure she had heard it before. But just as Charlotte's curiosity could get the best of her the second course was brought out.

The second course was sea scallops, with a side of celery root, grapefruit and fennel. It was of Charlotte's opinion that the food got better at each course. Throughout the interim of her second course Charlotte had willed this familiar stranger to turn his head, either to confirm that yes, he was the man she had run into in the lighthouse, or that her persistent loneliness had finally caught up to Charlotte and she had begun going into delirium. Charlotte's misery was cut short as the mystery man suddenly turned his head, his penetrating blue eyes framed by mousy blond tendrils circling in on the sat figure that was Charlotte from across the room. So that is Bobby, she thought.

Oh no, the poor man must think I'm some crazed stalker following him around the cape, I wouldn't be all that surprised if he got up and left right this instance, Charlotte mused inwardly. However these thoughts were put to rest as Robert made his way across the floor, with the beauty and grace of a seasoned Juilliard trained ballerina.

"Funny place to find you Charlotte, I mused you as more of a diner girl, I guess I thought wrong now didn't I?" He chuckles in a self-conscious way designed to defuse the unmarked tension between the pair.

"Oh how wrong you were Bobby, how very wrong" Charlotte admonishes in jest, giggling in her delivery. Charlotte could practically hear the voice of her mother urging that such a sound should not come from a dignified woman over the age of twenty. But she couldn't find much in herself to care at the moment, not when the man in front of her brought out feelings that Charlotte couldn't yet assign a name to.

"Would you mine me sitting down a moment, I'm afraid I've been on my feet since 4am"

"Four am?" Charlotte nearly spills her drink in her dumbfounded delivering--"What on earth kind of employer has you filling in those kinds of hours?"

"Working for my brother that's who" Bobby states with a reverent look of pride in his eyes.

"Oh your brother, would I know him by chance?"

"Maybe-maybe not" Bobby remarks in a tone not dissimilar to a school boy who had just set up a prank for his teacher. Despite this Charlotte finds charm in it.

As the third course is brought out the pair continue talking about trivial things, while Bobby shovels small amounts of parmesan into his mouth while effortlessly keeping up conversation.

To the unbeknownst eye, or to bypasses at the Inn, the pair looked as though they had been lovers for as long as they had been alive.

But evidently they had not, and so the questions begun

"Now what's an girl with a ring on talking to a guy like me for" he states, while motioning his hand towards the sapphire oval ring set in 18-karat white gold glimmering on Charlottes fourth finger of her left hand.

Shoot, Charlotte thought. Her daily routine of putting on her wedding ring had stuck, even after the divorce. "It's not what you think, I promise. I've recently got divorced and y'know old habits die hard I guess." She says while chuckling nervously, bracing herself for Bobby to be completely turned away by her awkward and rambling justification.

But instead he simply smiles in a manner so disarming that it seems to immediately regulate her nervous system. "Not a problem with me at all. I have certainly had my fix of lovers quarrels Charlotte, I'll tell you that".

"Oh really? do tell Bobby please it's only fair" Charlotte pleads.

Bobby immediately concedes and goes into a particularly hilarious tale of him trying to ask a girl to homecoming, only to find out she had already been asked out by two of his own brothers.

This prompts Charlotte to ask about his luck in love after high school, to which his whole demeanour seems to shift as he quickly rushes out that he fell in love with a girl who then, as it turns out, fell in love with her ski instructor instead, leaving him at the altar of nineteen fifty.

At this revelation Charlotte decides to back off and move onto lighter topics. Here she learns of Bobby's two dogs that he fathers; a Newfoundland named "brumes" and a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel named "freckles".

By the fourth course, steelhead trout and coconut lime sage, Bobby and Charlotte's chairs are now paralleled with each other and increasingly close. As Charlotte looks up to somewhere other than the man in front of her for the first time in what she could imagine could've easily been two hours, she sees that the time is bordering on 8pm. Bobby catches on, and draws his eyes to the clock.

"I guess we should head out before they kick us out huh, Wouldn't want to be banned from Carvée now would we?" Robert remarks.

"Oh the horrors it would be!" Charlotte laughs.

As the pair reaches the driveway of the Inn, a tense silence falls upon the two. No, not a silence born out of boredom but of yearning.

"So--shall we go back to my place?"

End of Chapter Three

[chronosh0t]

“ I listen to everything you say ”

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short drabble based off this tweet

tags: male skk Zenas (my OC) x Lee ; PGR ; alternative universe but still inside the world of pgr ; ascendant Lee, the "young man / other Ascendant" is my OC Arawn.

words: 1.9k

this is very self-indulgent. no beta reader.

if you have any question, feel free to ask me on the box thingie! you can also find me on twt under the same username.

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It ended all wrong. Everything turned out to be wrong.

Zenas doesn't remember where, at what point things decided to turn in the wrong direction and changed the course of his life, of one his teammates life. He could not think of any specific moment, choice, or action that could explain the situation at hand at that exact time, but he knew that there was no way he could've turned back to zero again.

Not even now.

The days in Babylonia started to feel too dull, too dark, even the weather felt extremely gloomy, as if the system wanted to accompany him in his mourning. There was always a silence, that no matter how loud the music was, how many people talked, it was impossible to ignore. The absence was abysmal.

Zenas's mind was spiralling to utter chaos and, if he was truly honest with himself, he wasn't even trying to find a stop. The flashbacks of that day, as if they were purposely hunting him and remind him how much everything has changed, colliding with the knowledge of not being able to do nothing, not back then, not now.

He wanted to just sleep and forget about everything. If he were a Construct he would've already asked for a reboot. To Zenas's own disgrace he was but a mere human, and amnesia wasn't something one could ask and be given. He wished he could give up. However, it was not an option. There were still two girls waiting for him to get better, to be back so they could keep with their mission, for them, and for him. 

Him. The one missing. The one who wouldn't come back no matter how loud and how many times Zenas called him. His name tasted so different. Bitter.

Unknown to Zenas. He was also calling him, missing him, missing his teammates, missing his days in Babylonia. But he knew that, for his Commandant to be safe, it was best if they thought he was dead. And that's how it should've stayed. How it was supposed to be, yet, not quite meant.

Lee spent the days after the incident of the tower, wandering around earth, cleaning some corrupted and trying to help humans in need. He would search for any supplies that could help them go through their situation a bit better, Lee would also stay in some safe zones by providing some protection, all that by keeping a line and not letting any Construct from Babylonia know he was still alive.

After all, he was technically an Ascendant now. Even if he didn't give himself to the virus and became an Agent, he was still a corrupted, someone who Babylonia deemed a danger, something that needed to be ended. The years he spent in the front lines fighting for humanity meant nothing.

But it mattered little. As long as he could keep helping, it was fine. He just needed to make sure to keep his activities hidden and it should be fine. Right? That's how he planned everything, however, not everything goes according to a certain plan. That's why Lee never expected to see him.

Just like any other day, Lee was scanning the surroundings, his gun needed some repair after fighting nonstop some ascendants he did not know about. The task, as difficult as trying to dry out the ocean, was taking too long, he walked for hours, checked dead corrupted and even the weapons those ascendants were using, to no avail.

The sun was setting down. Wandering during the night being not the best option, he opted for finding a suitable place to rest and hide. That's where he found such a place. A greenhouse.

How come there's a greenhouse? Is that even possible considering the environment? Those thoughts filled his M.I.N.D. It was in fair condition, the glasses a bit muddy, but none of them were broken. He could see even a variety of flowers, wild grass growing outside the greenhouse, birds and butterflies flying happily at the sight.

While keeping as quiet as he could, Lee tried to get close and what he saw startled him. Inside, vintage furniture in really good state, teacups and… food? Two shadows suddenly appeared, Lee clutched down, kept that position for a few seconds before straightening a bit and focusing his visual mode on the two people.

Ascendants? Humans?

He could clearly see one of them, although just from the back, he had long white hair, dressed in a… suit? as weird as it looked, that person was wearing quite a fancy suit, and his mannerisms were as delicate as they could be. Maybe that individual used to be from a prominent family. The latter sat down on a sofa, now the other person was visible.

Lee's mechanical heart started to beat too fast. Chaos formed on his M.I.N.D and he could feel how his frame was malfunctioning slightly at the sight. The height matched perfectly, those pretty and unique eyes, with more dark circles that he remembered, that black messy hair with blue tips. Oh, and that mischievous smile, showing his fangs.

It was him. His Commandant. Zenas was standing there, inside that greenhouse, and moreover, he was having a conversation with an Ascendant. His posture was casual, Lee could notice that Zenas was too relaxed, so that only meant one thing: he knew that Ascendant, he knew he wasn't in danger.

In an attempt to deny what he was seeing, he double checked his visual modules and even did a deep scan on his M.I.N.D, just to be sure that it wasn't a trick or some error. As expected, everything was fine. What he saw was happening.

Lee sat down and rested his back on a rock. He needed to calm down. Of course, it was easier to said than to be done, it has been so long since the last time he saw Zenas, he knew himself very well, denying those feelings and the urge to run inside that greenhouse were too much to handle, but he couldn't let his Commandant know he was alive. Or it would oppose a danger not only to him but also to Lucia and Liv. He closed his eyes and tried to think of just that, of how bad it'd be if he dared to show his face. But oh boy, how much he desired to see him up close, to hug him, to…

ㅤㅤㅤ“Don't lose focus.” he said to himself through gritted teeth.

His ear still picked up some noise. If he wanted he could've easily listened to what they were talking but it was none of his business. At least not anymore. So he only opted to hear small hints that would let him know if Zenas left. And after what seemed ages, the glass door opened and a pair of steps started to fade away.

ㅤㅤㅤ“He left already.” a raspy voice came from behind, “You can come out now, Ascendant.” finished, for some reason the tone of his voice carried some kind of annoyance.

Lee stood up and faced the white-haired person. It was a few centimetres taller than him, up close he could see his eyes didn't match in colour, one was of a dark green and the other was black. He talked and moved with delicacy. Nonetheless, this young man was still an Ascendant, so why did he sound so annoyed? Could it be..?

ㅤㅤㅤ“Why were you hiding here?” he asked, his face was stoic, no sign of emotion, then added, “You are… Lee, right?”

That question left Lee speechless. Did he know who he was? Does that mean, as he thought of, Zenas knew this Ascendant was some sort of friend? He was at loss for words. The silence was enough response for the man in front of him.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Zenas used to talk a lot about you” mencione casually, at the same time he did a gesture with his hand, as if telling Lee to get inside the greenhouse so they could talk. So he did.

After the two of them walked in, the door closed. The young man talked again. “You look slightly different from what he told me, but the overall essence is there. How did he call you?” he pondered to himself while serving tea. “Ah, right, he used to refer to you as his ‘soon-to-be boyfriend’, I remember now.”

His… boyfriend. It sounded pretty, it sounded right. Lee was not aware of it, but a smile took shape, the boy who was looking at him let out a sigh. If there was a mirror, Lee would've probably be shocked now, the warmth inside his body was perfectly visible on his face, that shy smile was still there and there was so much fondness in his eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ“You can just tell him. He would go with you.”

That line brought Lee back to reality. Now his eyes were locked on the young man's. If he was honest, he wanted to ask what kind of relationship the two of them has but right now there was something more important to clarify.

ㅤㅤㅤ“He is not allowed to know I'm alive. It would out him in a lot of risk” Lee said firmly.

ㅤㅤㅤ“But he—”

ㅤㅤㅤ“I know he…” there was a pause, the words were stuck on his throat, swallowing seemed like a hard task now, “I know he would follow me, but it's precisely because of that reason that he mustn't know about my actual situation.”

The young man, again, sighed heavily. “I never understood him, and now I don't understand you either. It's clear that both of you share the same feelings for the other, so why not make it easy and just be honest?” he took a sir, crossed his leg and grabbed one of the teacup, “What are you scared of? He is a very strong and capable human, and trust me, he is not fond of the human side of his. He would gladly give up that just to stay with you.” finished his sentence and took a sip. Lee could smell it, it was a strong black tea, the same Zenas would usually drink.

Lee grasped his gun with so much strength it started to break, that statement was enough to make him angry. Funny enough that anger was directly at himself, for feeling slightly happy at hearing that, at the fact that Zenas felt the same way he did.

ㅤㅤㅤ“No.” Lee replied, the anger did not subdued. “If you know what I feel, then you should know that I would never do something that'd put him in danger. So I suggest you keep your mouth shut and keep this conversation hidden from him.”

The next few seconds were filled with silence, not far away the sound of birds could be heard. The tension was so palpable, anyone who dared to enter that greenhouse would've been able to feel it, even cut it with scissors. The Ascendant took a few more sips from the cup, placed it back on the table and stood up again, walked straight to Lee and stopped two steps away.

ㅤㅤㅤ“You would do anything he ordered you, right? That's how loyal you are.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Yes.” he answered.

ㅤㅤㅤ“If he asked you to kill yourself, would you do it?” the man questioned him again, his eyes showing not a single ounce of emotion.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Yes.” dry, sure of himself. That was Lee's answer.

The Ascendants let out a chuckle. It seemed that he was not expecting such loyalty. And there was not a single second where the man thought Lee was lying, what made it even more surprising.

ㅤㅤㅤ“What a duo of insane people.”

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🦋 and that's it. i hope it was good enough.

🦋 if you reaches this far, thank you for reading.

[starry-hughes]

…so i have two angst ideas

angst idea 1

aspen opts for a natural birth. she doesn’t have anything wrong health wise, and the twins were small enough that the doctors thought she could do it.

so after she’s given birth to the twins, everything’s happy, everything’s fine.

until it’s not.

cole is sitting in a little chair next to her bed, and one minute he’s simply just taking in aspen, how strong she was for going through birth, etc.

next thing he knows, nurses are swarming aspens bed, two rush out the twins in their cots, and another rushes him out.

and then his brain registers the noise he’s hearing.

aspens flatlining.

option 2

aspen is a bit scared of birth, let alone two babies, so she opts for a c section.

they schedule it for a friday, and all is well.

they get in to the hospital, get checked in, settled, and next thing they know, she’s on the table and they’re doing the c section.

and everything is going great.

and then they pull the first twin out- he’s not making any noise.

nurses are immediately running the baby off to a table in the corner, scrambling for medical equipment.

simultaneously, they’re ushering cole out of the room, and also trying to placate aspen. they’re both panicking.

they get the second twin out, and he immediately lets out a cry- which seems to do the trick to calm aspen.

until suddenly her monitors pick up.

coles now in the observation room watching on helplessly as they try to save baby #1 and aspen.

i’ve ruined my own day typing these out🥲

this is so angsty

but when you said north angst this is what i was expecting

[peskellence]

Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Masterlist

Read on AO3 here:

Summary: A lot has changed since the revolution. Crimes against androids are now punished in the same way as crimes against humans. A reluctant Gavin Reed and his new partner RK900 have been assigned to investigate a string of disturbing murders. Despite the shift in Detroit's social climate, Gavin still holds reservations about whether or not androids are truly alive. Will his developing feelings for 'Nines' be the thing to change this?

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 5K

"Are you sure you want to do this? It's not too late to back out." 

Gavin was only vaguely tuned in to what Tina was saying as he rummaged through his closet in search of a ‘nice’ shirt. Nice was less of the primary concern, with the more pressing issue being that the majority of clothes were either horribly creased or visibly snug—a testament to all the morning jogs and laundry he’d been skipping out on. 

With all his usual favourites piled in a hamper, he settled for a long-neglected button-down pushed to the back of the hangers. He couldn’t remember where he’d gotten it, but he suspected it had been from a misguided Secret Santa a couple of years back. 

Maybe it’ll look better on, he thought to himself. With his phone on speaker, he slipped his arms into the shirt and fastened the buttons. "Ti, you were the one that said I have two options: Either I screw Nines or I screw a stranger. I'm opting for the latter; it's less complicated." 

Upon surveying himself in the mirror, any optimism he had dissipated. The shirt fit, but that was about all it achieved—with the wide cut creating a box-like shape and the red, satin material clashing widely with his usual style. 

"But is that what you want?" Tina pressed. "Gav, I'm worried. You haven't been this torn up over someone since Jake."

"This is nothing like Jake", he grumbled defensively. "We dated for five fucking years, and then he cheated on me. I've known Nines for five fucking minutes. He's my...."

Gavin honestly didn’t know. Maybe they had been friends—or something resembling that—before everything had gone to Hell. As things stood now, he would be hard-pressed to call them friendly acquaintances. 'Distant’ or ‘begrudging’ seemed more accurate. 

Leaning towards the mirror, he continued to scrutinise his underwhelming appearance. He noted the coarse bristles that had lengthened significantly around his jaw as he attempted to smooth down his hair. A dormant self-loathing churned his stomach, wreaking havoc on his already tenuous confidence—as he picked up the keys that he had set on his nightstand and readied himself to leave the apartment. "I've got to go." 

There was silence from the other end of the receiver. It was clear that Tina regretted the advice she had given to her increasingly volatile friend—but did not want to allow this to manifest as coercion or nagging. 

"Have fun", she said with an exhale, as if straining to keep her tone light. "And try to be nice. I know that can be challenging." 

"I won't bite his dick off unless he's into it." 

"Gross." She made an exaggerated gagging noise before chuckling. "Call me tomorrow, okay?"  

"Sure. If it's a fucking disaster, which it probably will be, you'll wanna hear all about it." 

By the time Gavin arrived at the restaurant, he was twenty minutes late. Waving off a doorman who had come to greet him, he quietly surveyed the illuminated bar opposite the entrance, looking for anyone resembling his date. While his search came up empty, the plethora of bottles that adorned the shelves quietly teased him. Unable to resist the growing temptation, he decided he'd order a drink. Or two. However many it took to quell his nerves.

As time ticked by, he grew increasingly suspicious that his date had given up waiting. While the loss of a prospective hook-up was disappointing, it was no major blow. All it meant was an evening free to enjoy more familiar comforts—like a fridge full of beer and a room full of cats. Downing his glass in record time, he sent a quick update to Tina:

You:

Wanna see a pic of my date? 

He followed this up with a blurry snap of his right hand, to which Tina replied with a series of hearts. 

Actually Decent

[8:31 pm] Omg he's cute you must be so nervous.

[8:32 pm] Guessing you got stood up?

You: 

I mean I was pretty late. So I guess I stood him up

Just paid $10 for a whiskey. i'm going home. 

He was about to make his exit when he felt a light tap on his shoulder: "Gavin?"

As he turned to face the stranger, his interest subtly reignited. His date was more handsome in person. Tantalisingly tall and lean, styled impeccably in a fitted black shirt that hinted at well-sculpted muscles. After a respectable pause to savour the view, Gavin cleared his throat. "Last I checked. Alex, right?"

As it soon transpired, Alex was a talker—which made matters easier for Gavin, who was far from having the mental exuberance to exert into conversation. His voice was pleasant enough to listen to, rich in tones and inflexions that the detective was struggling to place the origin of. 

"—I’d been friends with the captain for a couple of years, but I was still surprised to be invited to play with them. They had always been pretty exclusive."

"Uh, yeah. Football." He made a strained attempt to reply, hoping to sound at least somewhat engaged. "I played for a bit in Middle School." 

His efforts backfired horribly as Alex put a premature end to his story, eyebrows pinched in confusion. "It was basketball…are you okay? You seem distracted." 

"Oh, yeah, I'm alright, just—" He stumbled with his words, trying to think of something to say. While the wine his date had purchased for them was providing a pleasant buzz, it was doing little to bolster his social skills. Any semblance of a filter swiftly abandoned him as he stumbled headfirst into a verbal swan dive. "You said your name was Alex, right? You don’t sound like an Alex." 

In what could only be considered an act of divine intervention, his date didn't take offence. If anything, he seemed charmed by the remark, chuckling around the rim of his glass before lowering it to reply. "It’s short for Alexei. I was born in Moscow, my family and I moved to America when I was nine. I have never been able to shift the accent, as much as I've tried." 

"Huh. Russian." Gavin cursed the vacancy of his reply, treating himself to a particularly large swig of wine. 

"Where did you grow up?"

"Down the street. I didn't get far, I'm not that interesting." 

"I wouldn't say that." Alex chuckled, his eyes focused on the glass that seemed perpetually drawn to the other man's lips. "You shouldn't be nervous. I'm enjoying your company." 

If their current locale was anything to go by, Gavin found that hard to believe. The tables surrounding them were extravagantly adorned with floral centrepieces and expensive silverware. Well-dressed couples stole sultry glances under the glow of candlelight. It was a far cry from the low-rent bars, and back alley fumbles that he was used to.

"This isn't really my scene." He motioned himself up and down, drawing attention to his less-than-polished appearance. "If I’d known you'd be slumming it going out with me, I probably wouldn't have messaged first." 

Alex tilted his head to one side as though taking some time to process the words. Gavin waited in anticipation for him to realise his error—to fold up his satin napkin and stand up, politely calling it an evening. Surprisingly, however, he stayed put, a soft smile creeping onto his lips. "I don't mean to undermine you, but I was the one who messaged first. Several weeks ago." 

More than a little dubious at the smoothly delivered claim, Gavin picked up his phone and opened USwipe. Scrolling back through the previous chat logs, he scrutinised them in greater detail. He soon discovered that the man was being genuine. 

"Huh. Guess you did." His voice was low and deadpanned in hopes of disguising his embarrassment. It seemed almost comedic for him to have missed such an obvious detail, especially given his profession. "I've been off the app for a while. Must have missed the notifications." 

"We're here now, so I’m willing to forgive you." Alex leant forward in his chair as he shot him a candid wink. "I'm sure there are ways you can make it up to me." 

Gavin only half-acknowledged the flirting, his attention divided as he methodically scrolled through the backlog of messages. Considering how blatantly out of his league Alex seemed to be, it was astonishing how persistently he'd been trying to flag his attention. 

"Damn, you were keen." He had not meant for the comment to sound as condescending as it did. 

Fortunately, the other man appeared to take it in stride, laughing exuberantly as he threw up his hands. "Guilty. Aside from the obvious physical attraction, you seemed like an interesting person, and I wanted to get to know you better." 

"Like I said, I'm not that interesting—

Which is why my profile is full of bullshit." 

"Oh?" Alex looked down at his plate, using his knife and fork to cut a piece of neglected steak. "You mean to tell me you aren’t really 6 foot?" 

"5'9 on a good day."

"Devastating. I’m unsure how I’ll ever recover." 

This managed to draw out a laugh from Gavin. "Seriously though, it's not all bullshit. I do have a cat, and I am a Detective." 

"Sounds to me like you were honest enough. About the things that matter." Alex forked a piece of meat into his mouth, chewing appreciatively. "Do you enjoy your work?"

Any temporary uplift in mood seemed to dampen almost immediately as Gavin stared into his glass, scowling. "For the most part, I do." 

"Why only most?"

"The case I'm on is taking a lot out of me and my partner." The words only exacerbated his rising anger. He gripped the stem of his glass tightly, trying his best not to let the unpleasant emotion get the best of him. "We don't see eye to eye."  

"I can understand difficult co-workers", Alex said attentively. "Is it a case of conflicting work styles, or is it more personal?"

"A bit of both, it's complicated."

Lips forming into a silent ‘ah’, Alex returned his attention to his plate. "Some differences can be hard to overlook." It sounded genuinely sympathetic as he spoke through another soft smile. "What department do you work in?"

"Homicide." 

He waited in trepidation for his date's response. There had been more than a couple of times in his life when prospective encounters had run a mile upon hearing what he did for a living. Perhaps it was the intrinsic involvement with corpses. 

His current company didn’t seem to mind, responding with an intrigued hum. "I know very little about the work, but I’ve always had an interest in True Crime. Have you worked on any cases I may be familiar with?" 

Gavin frowned, acknowledging this as the other response he'd grown accustomed to. People fascinated with the macabre, keen to know all the gruesome details. He was hardly in a position to judge, given his contentious taste in movies, but he'd always found it a little tone-deaf when applied to real-life suffering. 

His personal sentiments made little difference, however, as it was a line of inquiry he was obliged to shut down. "Can't really say. Confidentiality and shit."

Alex's expression fell. He promptly abandoned his cutlery, staring up at Gavin intently. "Of course not. I'm sorry for asking."

"It's fine, you're just curious." Reaching for the cooler in the centre of the table, Gavin retrieved the bottle and generously refilled his glass. Taking note of his date's dwindling supplies, he reached for the other glass when a hand shot out to stop him.

"I’m a bit of a lightweight", Alex informed, chuckling sheepishly. "Unless you want to carry me later, I think I ought to slow down."

Gavin scoffed, struggling to believe that the man was light on anything. Even seated, his imposing stature could not be concealed, with large hands and limbs that seemed to dwarf the perfectly average-sized table. "Couldn't carry you out if I tried. You're like 8 feet tall." 

It clearly wasn’t the first time Alex had heard this sort of remark, as he rolled his eyes with well-rehearsed dismissal. "Maybe I should put that on my profile. I've only lived here for a couple of months; is there much of a market for giants in Detroit?" 

"You'd be surprised how many people are into it—" Gavin smirked, taking a sip of his newly poured drink. "like to be thrown around."

"Are you one of them?" 

This uplift in confidence proved poorly timed, as Gavin nearly painted the table with a splattering of wine. If they were going to start talking about kinks over dinner, he would need something a lot stronger. 

"It's not a great time to be living in Detroit", he continued, trying to stay at least somewhat on topic. "For dating, or anything else, really." 

"It does feel like things have become a little��unstable." There was a looming severity to Alex’s tone as his gaze bore forward, intense and unwavering. "Rapidly degrading infrastructure and an increase in violent crime. Why do you think that is?" 

Gavin struggled not to laugh at the verbose question. It was glaringly obvious the sort of lifestyle his date was accustomed to, with 'sheltered rich kid' was all but tattooed across his forehead. "I feel like a lot of it has to do with the Revolution." 

Alex hummed in understanding, "I never had an android myself, but it must have been difficult for those who did. A bit like receiving a government mandate that your smartphone be granted equal rights." 

The same joke he would have laughed at a few weeks prior now left Gavin with a painful churn in his stomach. "A lot of people don't wanna believe it," he fired back, with a little more firmness than intended. "That the 'machines' they've been using and abusing for years think and feel just like us." 

"I imagine many can't believe it."

"This is getting depressing as fuck." The detective looked down at his bowl, absentmindedly twirling the noodles he had lost all appetite for. "Let's change the subject. What do you do for work?" 

"I'm a Senior Urban Planner." 

Gavin raised his eyebrows, humming in bemusement. "That would explain the sexy architect talk." It was undoubtedly an attempt at flirting, although perhaps not one of his best. "It's funny, you were starting to sound just like a—" 

Fuck. 

Fucking shit. 

His fork fell into his food with a thud. It was hard to ignore that Alex conformed to a certain 'type'. One that he was developing a burgeoning taste for. 

"Any projects I'd be interested in?" he asked, trying his best not to dwell on the similarities between his estranged partner and the handsome stranger sitting across from him.

"The primary focus of my team is Historic and Cultural Preservation," Alex began, a glint of excitement in his eyes, "Tell me: If you had to choose between prioritising the restoration of more traditional establishments or focusing on ongoing modernisation, which would you pick?" 

Gavin shrugged, unsure how to answer. "Well, I'm not really a History guy, so I'd probably go with modernisation." 

The vibrant light was promptly extinguished. Alex moved back, lips turned downwards in distaste. "Not an uncommon answer, but still…a shame. Your city has a rich history, the appreciation for which is rapidly dwindling." 

With hindsight, the detective realised that he should have dialled back the honesty—or, at the very least, delivered it with a little more tact. "Okay, no more talk about work", he insisted. "You're up next on the 'small talk' draw, let's hope you pick a decent topic."

Alex laughed, returning to his previously relaxed state with remarkable ease. Either the man boasted a tremendous capacity for positivity, or he had a thing for 'projects'. In any case, he seemed completely undeterred by Gavin's persistent lack of charm. 

"Tell me more about your cat. What’s their name?" 

"Tiffany—and there’s not much to tell, really. She’s a furry little hellspawn with a diva complex." His lips pressed together in thought, and his gaze drifted to his phone. "...Wanna see some pictures?" 

"Yes, please."

Gavin smoothly adjusted his chair until they were seated side by side. As he scrolled through his camera reel, Alex appeared genuinely captivated. 

"This one is very cute," he commented, pointing to a snapshot of Tiffany snuggled rear-first on Gavin's chest, tail coiled around his face. "You should add it to your USwipe profile. I guarantee it would net a few more matches."

"Bit a cheap move, though, isn't it? Using my pet as date bait." In his absent scrolling, Gavin didn’t realise how far he was travelling back. This was until he landed on a picture of a much younger Tiffany being held in the arms of a smiling brunette. 

"Who's that?" his date asked casually, "A friend of yours?"

"My ex, actually." The admission flowed with remarkable ease as it struck Gavin just how little it hurt to say. "That was the day we brought Tiff home; she was a gift for our one-year anniversary. Lost the guy but kept the cat. Shit happens, I guess."

Alex cast him a look of sympathy. "Was the guy worth keeping?"

Lips pursed, Gavin examined the photo with greater scrutiny. Tina had been right after all. With small, beady eyes and large ears that protruded a little too much, Jake really did look like a rat. "Hell no."

"Then I'd say it was a fair trade-off." The man beamed with infectious enthusiasm, revealing a row of straight white teeth. "What breed is she?"

"The kind you find rooting around in the garbage." 

Gavin laughed a little too enthusiastically at the joke. Considering he'd been the one to make it, and that it wasn't all that funny. With self-awareness creeping back in, he went to re-retrieve the wine bottle, only to discover that it was empty. 

"I'm guessing you're a cat person." He pronounced each word carefully in an attempt to downplay his intoxication. 

"A hundred per cent—

Unfortunately, mine passed away recently."

"Shit." Gavin blurted out thoughtlessly. He silently lamented that he could not think of anything more comforting to say as Alex stared into space, trapped in forlorn introspection. 

"Her name was Coco, a Ragdoll-Birman cross", he wistfully recalled. "She was an old girl, had a good life."

"Don't suppose you're in the market for another cat? Mine just had babies, and I'm gonna go bankrupt if I decide to keep them all." 

"That's very kind, but I'll have to decline. I had Coco for fourteen years. I was very attached." He paused, watching the other man closely as he took a slow, measured sip of wine. "I would, however, love to meet yours." 

Despite his thickening haze of inebriation, the implications of this were not lost on Gavin. He tried his best to maintain his composure despite the small flutter of excitement blooming in his stomach. "Are you inviting yourself over?"

"That depends. Are you interested?" 

The question seemed absurd. The man was stunning, comparable to a model. Of course, he ought to be interested. Despite this, Gavin hesitated, with no clear reason as to why. 

This had been what he'd wanted, after all. A chance to release all his burdensome tensions. The opportunity was presenting itself on a silver platter, and he'd be an idiot to pass it up. "I mean, kittens are great therapy. Who am I to say no?" 

Upon leaving the restaurant, the AutoTaxi rank outside was frustratingly empty. With some persistence, they were eventually able to hail a ride in a driver-manned car. It wasn't long after its departure that Alex took advantage of the darkened surroundings, indulging in some stolen touches. 

A wandering hand settled down to stroke the contours of Gavin's thigh, travelling upwards until fingers were brushing the line of his zipper. The teasing did not progress much further, however, as a long, disparaging cough from the driver put an abrupt end to the advances. Alex moved away, showing a willingness to restrain himself for a little while longer.

This restraint extended to the length of time it took to enter the apartment—as not moments after Gavin had shut the door, hands were on hin again. A gentle grip encompassed his midsection, tracing the line between his navel and hips. The touches were light, almost tender until fingers dug their way in, firmly pulling back. The subsequent friction came with a host of silent promises as the shorter man was unable to suppress a gasp. 

"You know, I'm startin' to think that you don't really want to see the cats." Gavin leant into the touch, struggling to keep his bearings.

"I can want more than one thing." Alex mused, allowing his breath to teasingly ghost the nape of his neck. "How about we say a quick hello, and then you can show me to your bedroom?" 

As requested, the detective clumsily guided his guest to the bathroom, almost stumbling headfirst on a cat toy as he did. "Just keep your distance from mom", he advised. "She isn't great with strangers." 

The warning had been well-deserved, as throughout their time in the room, Tiffany's eyes remained trained fixedly on Alex. Her apprehension quickly morphed into hostility as she shifted to an upright stance, poised to strike. When the man made the error of leaning in to steal a look at the kittens, the cat swatted a paw toward him, hissing aggressively. 

"Hey, fuckin' stop it", Gavin chided, subduing his agitated pet with a gentle stroke of her back. "Sorry. Like I said, she's a little feisty." 

Alex seemed almost completely unfazed, chuckling gently as he drew back to a safe distance. "Protective, I'd say—of you and her babies. I think that's sweet." 

"Just don't take it personally, she's like it with everyone. The only person she hasn't immediately gone for is—"    

Dammit. 

Gavin felt lips on his neck, forming a tight seal as they sought to leave marks. "She's lucky to have you caring for her." The low tones rumbled against his flesh as a scrape of teeth wreaked havoc with his clouded senses. "Tell me: When was the last time someone took care of you?" 

Swallowing a shaky breath, Gavin's reply was low and strained. "It's been a while." 

"Let me change that." 

Then he was pressed to the wall, a pair of strong hands securing his wrists as a tongue gently prised at his lips. Any anticipation that had been building promptly fizzled out, as the experience was immediately tainted by an unfortunate sense of deja vu. 

Gavin tried his best to indulge in the man's fumbled touches but found himself drifting subconsciously. The hands that bound him were a little too coarse, and the tongue too rough as it poked its way through. It left him feeling unfulfilled, wishing for something else.

Feigning enthusiasm, he moaned weakly into the kiss, sliding a hand up Alex's chest. Gavin waited for something to ignite, anything that might tell him he still wanted this—but found nothing but persistent numbness. 

His lack of excitement had not gone unnoticed by the other man, who seemed confused at the lack of activity when he ground their hips together. 

"Are you okay?" Alex asked slowly. "We can slow down a bit if you want." 

Gavin could have easily made an excuse about being too drunk—or pushed himself forward despite his reservations—but found himself unable to do so. It felt wrong to allow things to continue, knowing full-well that any intimacy shared would be plagued by thoughts of someone else. 

"Look, it’s not you", he sighed, eyes shut tight in frustration. "Obviously, it's not you. I’m just in a bit of a shit place right now." 

"I wouldn't want to force you into anything. We can cuddle—or even just talk—if you think that might help?" 

"I don't think so." He placed a hand on Alex's shoulder, encouraging him to move away. "I just can't do this right now'. 

The other man did not resist the touch, although he did persist in his questioning. "Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?" 

"No, you haven't, I just—" There was a nausea that was becoming increasingly harder for Gavin to ignore. He was unsure if the source was psychological or if there was a real danger he might be sick. "It’s really fucking complicated." 

A thoughtful pause hung in the air as Alex digested the information. Then he hummed as if arriving at a quiet revelation. "...Your partner. I see. That is unfortunate." 

"It's probably best if you leave", he replied, coming to his own sobering conclusion. "I'm sorry for messing you around." 

"I understand." The other man stood up, masking any disappointment as respectfully as possible. He seemed to take a moment to gather himself before finally speaking again. "Maybe it's not my place to say, but I can see that you're hurting. I hope that you'll act in your best interests and make the right choice." 

"Thanks." Gavin leant his head backwards, finding it increasingly hard to hold upright. He stared at the whirring extractor fan, trying to focus his vision. "And sorry—again." 

"It's okay. You have my number; if you ever need to talk to someone, I'll be happy to listen." 

After Alex had left, Gavin sat alone in the bathroom for quite some time. The mewls of the kittens and the noise of the fan were the only things to ground him as he sank to a new emotional low. With fumbling hands, he grabbed his phone, opening an unread message from Tina:

Actually Decent (2)

[10:59 pm] did you jerk off yet

[11:00 pm] how would you rate the experience on a scale of 1-10

You: 

ti im fucked up 

its nibes

nines* 

hes got my head messed up. i dont know what to do 

It wasn't until after he sent the message that he realised the time. There was a very good chance his friend was asleep and wouldn't see his text until morning, long after his crisis had ended. Spurred on by drunken reasoning, Gavin concluded that if he wanted to find any semblance of closure, he would need to confront the source.

It only took three rings for his partner to answer: 

"Detective Reed…?" His voice was slow and cautious like he was questioning the plausibility of the call. 

"Nines, this is fucked," Gavin groaned down the receiver, any sense of shame having deserted him with his sobriety. "It's all fucked up. Can we please just talk about it?"

The silence that followed was stifling. It was unclear if the android was working to decipher the man's disordered words or if he had simply hung up on him. Gavin lifted his phone to check when a voice called out, beckoning his attention:

"It is very late," Nines informed, in a way that nestled uncannily between reprimand and concern. "It would be best to defer this discussion until morning. After you’ve rested." 

"If I don't say this now, I never will." The man kicked out his legs, trying to find a more comfortable position, only to lodge himself awkwardly between the wall and the bathtub. "I don't want to ‘wash my hands’ of you. I like being partners, I like havin' you around, and I wanna believe that you do as well."

"You're slurring your words. I'm struggling to understand what you're saying." 

"If it means forgetting about the…thing that happened, I'm happy to do it." In an attempt to wriggle from his unfavourable position, he allowed his head to slip further back, inadvertently knocking the sink. 

The dull thud that ensued was clearly audible through the receiver as Nines was quick to address it. "Gavin, have you fallen?"

"Nah, I just hit m' head."

"Are you alone?" The concern in his tone had become much more apparent, "Do I need to come over?"

"I'm fine, seriously. I just want us to be fine as well. I know that sounds stupid; we've only been partners for a couple of weeks, but I really was startin' to feel…" He trailed off, rubbing his head as a sharp ache set in. "Fuck, that really hurt." 

"You're drunk", his partner concluded with a low exhale. "I suggest you go to bed before you cause yourself any further injury." 

Gavin grappled with another wave of nausea, sending him on a sloppy recline towards the toilet. "Can't. Think I might puke", he complained, retching as he did. "Look, just listen for a minute. There was somethin’ else I wanted to say. I need to think." 

"If I listen, will you promise to heed my suggestion? After you've emptied your stomach, of course." 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." 

As his head slipped into the bowl, Gavin realised he had no clear plan for what he wanted to say, having hoped that the words would find him in a moment of drunken enlightenment. Unsure how else to proceed, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "You're not a toaster. I don't know why I said that. I was just mad." 

"I believe you implied that I wasn't a toaster—as a toaster would be incapable of being such a 'cruel, vindictive asshole'." 

"Fuuuuck", the strain in his voice, combined with the echo of his current surroundings, lent a strange theatrics to the expletive. "That's worse, isn't it? I’m really sorry." 

Nines dismissed his concerns, albeit with an amused huff. "Don't be. My behaviour over the last few days has been deplorable. I was upset over a personal issue, and I took this out on you. That was wrong and deeply unfair. I hope you can forgive me." 

'Personal issue' invited more questions than Gavin would have cared for. While he considered pressing for more information, he ultimately decided against it. 

If it meant salvaging the budding connection they had established, he would delay speculation about what it meant—or what it might become. "If you're sorry too, does that mean we're okay?" 

"I sincerely hope so."

[katmiscellanious]

No, because you guys don’t understand. The amount of people I’ve seen saying things like “Imagine your @ssh0le bosses getting their happy ending after 4 years while your still struggling with your relationship after 6000 years!!”

THATS THE POINT GUYS!!! THATS THE POINT!!! YOU DONT GET IT CAUSE THATS THE POINT!!!

(I’m so not okay about this, I’m fine)

The point of Gabriel and Beezlebub’s relationship is that it ALWAYS could have been that easy. I’m convinced it was Neil’s way of showing us that Aziraphale and Crowley aren’t together, not because of heaven and hell, but because of their own psyche’s. Nina and Maggie told us this! They said, “you guys have talked sure, but you’ve never really talked.”

I’m also thinking of a post I saw but probs won’t be able to find, but Crowley and Aziraphale never talked, because they thought they were on the same page. They thought they knew each other after 6000 years. But no matter how long you’ve known someone, you never really know someone until you’ve talked to them. Hell, I have a friend like this. I’ve known her my entire life, and it took me til our 20s to realize that I didn’t know her, that i didn’t know what was going on in her life or in her mind. Beezlebub and Gabriel did what Crowley and Aziraphale NEVER did, which was talk!!!!

And also, they got what Crowley wanted. CROWLEY wants to run away with Aziraphale. And he always thought it was the system stopping them. That once they were out from underneath heaven and hells thumb, that they’d be free. But as we found out, Aziraphale is never going to leave behind a broken system. Especially if he thinks he can fix it.

There’s also something to be said that Gabriel. The supreme archangel who has never had to answer to anyone or prove anything to anyone found it easy to leave behind the bad system. It’s so easy for those in power and with privilege to move and traverse a system that caters to them. Because the real privilege isn’t money or respect, it’s wiggle room. It’s the ability choose and to be chosen and to go anywhere or believe you can do anything you want. Rich kids choose to study their passions in college. Rich people have the option to donate and be vegan and healthy and make better decisions because they can afford it.

Gabriel and Beezelbub don’t have an authority to answer too. Gabriel isn’t even scared by the idea of being demoted or sent to hell. He doesn’t know to be scared of those things. If they want to run away together, all they need to do is fill their former positions and then fuck off to whatever star system they like best. They don’t have any attachment to earth either.

Aziraphale and Crowley don’t have that background. Crowley is a message of outcasts. Of those who would opt out of the system given the choice, but can’t because of the threat to those he loves. The earth and Aziraphale. And as much as he hates the system, he won’t leave either one behind. Meanwhile Aziraphale is about those dissolution by the system, but still believe in them. Those who believe that you can fix it if ONLY you could just get inside. Aziraphale loves the earth and loves Crowley, and he wants them to be safe and happy.

See the thing is, both are willing to give up the earth for the other. Crowley would run away and leave the earth to be destroyed if it meant keeping them both out of the impending war. And Aziraphale would leave his bookshop and go back to heaven if it means crowley will be there with him. And the thing is, neither is asking the other to do this. I think as soon as they realize they don’t have to do either to be together. That they could be together on earth and still be happy, they’ll realize they could have just been happy this whole time.

Anyways this was my rant. Is a build up of all the stuff I’ve read about good omens 2. I have a lot of feelings about it, though I feel like I’m a lot less devastated by the end than some. I think it’s just cause I know that this isn’t the end of their story. And when season 3 rolls around they’ll be stronger than every (also, I’ve been through this before with Wayward Son (Simon snow book 2) and with Out Flag Means Death (I can’t believe we got OFMD’d again. Neil watched that show and went “huh, good idea”)

[kisha-myers]

Heeeeeyyyyy - so funny thing, my life has taken a weird turn as of late 😅 Nothijg bad, it has just made me exceptionally busy - but I haven't forgotten about this fic!! It felt a wee bit rushed, but I hope that you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it - there is more to come!! Im planning on getting another chapter out later this week (probably Friday if I'm feeling extra eager lol).

Fem!reader - Ghost x König x reader fanfiction titled 'My Anxious Mouse'

Disclaimer: I do NOT own call of duty nor its characters/operators - I only own the plot.

Chapter Nine: Rage

"Her skin smells of vintage books and pale moonlight, exotic things, forbidden loves and rainy nights." - Melody Lee

A week, that was how long it had been since the fire, and whilst you loved Johnny like family his presence was beginning to annoy you. He teased you incessantly, especially when you had no choice but to be around Ghost and König both of which you had learned they were in a serious relationship. Disappointment radiated off of you in waves, you had hoped you had a chance with either of them - but now knowing they were together you made your contact with them very scarce. You weren't a homewrecker like your mother - you refused to show them any interest - you didn't want to be the cause of their relationship being ruined, even more so considering they both worked together as well.

You let out a frustrated sigh, leaning your back against the side of the barracks, letting yourself focus on the roughness of it as you slid down to sit on the chilled ground. The base itself was bustling, word having got around that a general and an entire team of mercenaries were on their way. You'd opted to stay as far away from anyone as possible, counting down the minutes until Johnny got back so you could find a phone. You wanted to call the Fire Marshal yourself, hoping your apartment complex was cleared so you could return home. You had called your employer, the dean of the hospital you worked in, letting them know what happened. They only gave you two weeks off, stating they'd need you back as soon as possible.

You had thankfully been given a few changes of clothes, Captain Price personally going out with Johnny and buying them for you - it touched you, that a man so stern like Price would be so gentle with you like that. You would even go as far as saying he was bashful, handing you the three bags of clothes from target, rubbing the back of his neck whilst he focused on anything but your face. You'd taken them, offering him a smile smile a rather shy thank you, giving his arm an awkward pat and heading off to change. In total there were four outfits, two plain t-shirts, one blue and the other purple, one button up that was a deep burgundy with a black tank top to go underneath, and the last shirt was a long sleeved v-neck that was a shocking shade of pink. It was so bright that you had to squint at it, crinkling your nose at the offending color. You typically wore darker colors - they were better for blending in. You were even shocked to find that he had bought you a pair of black boots and socks.

The rest of the clothing items were two pairs of skinny jeans, one black and one a dark blue, two pairs of black fleece lined leggings and of course - you'd blame Johnny for this - two sets of what you could only declare as lingerie. Two lace ensembles were at the bottom of the bag, one red and one black, making your face light up like a Macy's parade float. It made sense now as to why Price was acting the way he was - Johnny probably had told him how much you 'adored' to wear such things under your clothes. Oh the excuses you could hear him spewing - you made a mental note to smack the utter shit out of him once you found him.

And you had. You opted to wear the black set under your clothes, having no other options available to you, and quickly dressed in the black skinny jeans with the burgundy button up and black tank top. Like clockwork, the moment you were done dressing Johnny entered your shared room. You wasted no time in grabbing one of your boots and yeeting it at him, smiling triumphantly when it made contact with his still sore face. He'd let out a mess of profanity, cursing you six ways to Sunday as he tried to reason why you had done what you did. You simply held up the red lace set with narrowed eyes, flicking the offending pieces back into the bag and shoving them into a spare backpack he had.

Now here you sat, watching everyone on base scramble to get things done in preparation for meeting the General and Mercenaries on their way. You never liked the feeling of the base, the tension that oozed out of every crevice was so thick you could cut it with a knife and choke on it. You were mentally kicking yourself for not snatching your cell phone up when you had the chance, it would have been useful - you had various reading apps and games on the device that could have helped you spend your time. Sure, Price had lent you a few books - you were grateful that he had been sweet enough to do so, but you weren't exactly one to enjoy reading about the history of gorilla warfare. It was graphic, exceptionally detailed in every horrendous way that you really didn't enjoy. You'd already had your childhood ripped from you by your overprotective father - you knew Price didn't know that, but all the same you'd make sure to return them when you had the chance.

You lifted your gaze towards the sky, watching as they darkened slightly with onyx colored clouds. It had been sunny earlier this morning, something you were thankful for as you strolled around base, soaking up as much of those springtime rays as you could. Now you were certain it would rain, either later this evening or in the wee hours of the morning. You huffed out a breath of frustration, you wanted to be home - back where you felt safe and secure - somewhere where you weren't walking on eggshells, somewhere where you actually belonged. You weren't made for this life, you weren't a soldier - yes you could hold your own if need be, you'd been trained to do so, but you weren't like Johnny or your brother Dante.

You were fragile of mind - not that that was a bad thing, no quite the opposite really. You were fragile the same way a rose was. Velveteen petals that would wilt, thorns that could pierce flesh and draw blood - you were spirited, feisty, but also fragile. Sometimes you likened yourself to the rose trapped under a glass dome from Beauty and the Beast, a flower filled with unimaginable importance and symbolism - your father watching each petal fall as he awaited for something, anything to change and help free him from his own demons. It was... difficult for you, difficult to watch each piece of him wither away like the leaves from the trees in the fall. It was even harder for you to see your own reflection deteriorating into a hollowed out shell.

You bore the weight of everything after Dante died - caring for your sisters, making memories with them whilst trying to keep your parents marriage together. You blamed yourself really, you felt that it was your fault that everything had gone to shit, like Dantes death was just the precipice of it all, the beginnings of the end really. Your therapist would tell you it wasn't your responsibility, that you were only a child that needed guidance from adults who were too focused on their own desires to see you breaking to pieces.

"You've been avoiding us." That deeply sensual burned whiskey tone filled your ears, the British lilt sending a rather unwelcome shiver of delight down your spine. Annoyance spread through you on a cellular level, your e/c orbs narrowing slightly as they slowly trailed up to meet Ghosts intimidating hazels.

"Why does that matter if I have or haven't?" You retorted, letting your annoyance lace your every word as you let your arms rest against your raised knees, your fingers interlacing as you quicker an eyebrow. You gulped as his eyes narrowed, his knees bending slowly as he lowered into a squat, his gloved hands hanging idly between his legs as he rested his forearms against his thick thighs.

"Because König thinks he's done something wrong - won't stop overthinking it, so you, lovely little dove, are going to come with me and tell us why you're avoiding us so he can get over it. I've got Price breathing down my neck about getting him to focus on our next deployment - only way he will focus is if you just suck it up and be a big girl and tell us what's wrong." He replied, his voice deepening ever so slightly. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from making a snarky remark, your fingers tightening significantly to the point your knuckles turned white. You were getting sick of everyone making decisions for you, you weren't inept, you were a grown woman for fucks sake. You snorted at the notion of being incapable of making adult decisions, you wanted to lash out but knew it wasn't his fault - he was a soldier, they were more blunt and didn't have the patience to deal with civilians like yourself.

"Yeah sure, I'll clear the air with him as soon as I'm available to do so. Heard anything about our complex yet? It'd be nice to be able to go home." You asked him, curiosity getting the better of you when you noticed a commotion just behind him off towards the main section of the base. Muffled shouts could barely be heard over the rumble of engines and tires against the asphalt, your eyes narrowing slightly as you placed your hands onto the ground on either side of you, leaning against your right one to fully see around the Boulder of a man before you.

It was a strange sight to see a convoy of military vehicles mixed in with black escalades, civilian vehicles weren't commonly used by the military for operations - at least that is what both Dante and Johnny had told you many years prior. Thick dark tinted windows made peering into them as they drove by damn near impossible, only the slight silhouettes visible. You tilted your head to the side slightly, brows furrowed as a standard military jeep stopped just five feet from you and Ghost. Why it did you wouldn't know as Ghost had already grabbed onto your left forearm, yanking you up and onto your feet before ushering you back inside the barracks.

Any protest and or insults you were ready to spew at him for man-handling you died on your tongue the moment you saw Johnny's frazzled state. His typically perfectly styled Mohawk was shaggy, the gel he used to keep it up flaking away as if he had ran his hands through it periodically. His usually foolhardy and carefree smile was replaced with firmly pressed lips, his jaw clenched so tightly you could physically see the muscle straining. You frowned when you heard the huff of relief that fled from his nose as the two of you neared him, your mind beginning to conjure up every worse possible scenario as to why he'd be so disheveled.

"What the fuck is going on?" You demanded, yanking your arm from Ghost's hands before your own hands rested upon your hips, your muscles tensing in apprehension as you awaited an answer from the two. Johnny and Ghost shared a look, silently communicating between themselves as if you weren't standing right there next to them. You snapped your fingers to gather their attention, your frown turning into a scowl as you threw your hands up in exasperation, "Yeah so, when I ask a question, I fully expect an answer whether it's one I like or not. So what the actual fuck is going on that has the two of you so wired up?" You demanded, your hands returning to your hips.

Your anxiety began to increase, its scrofulous presence slithering its way through your veins into your heart, forcing the organ to palpitate so quickly it made your head spin. Your breathing began to increase as well, your chest rising and falling haphazardly as your hands started to sweat and tremble. Dread welled within your stomach, churning its contents and creating a thick coating of acidic bile in the back of your throat. Saliva pooled inside your mouth as your nausea grew - the longer they stayed quiet, the more likely you noted, that you would throw up. Whether or not it ended up on them you didn't care.

Ghost was the one to answer you after what felt like an eternity, his voice devoid of any emotion other than vexation, "Generals lap dogs taken a liking to you. Been trying to hunt you down all day. Price's kept him busy for the last hour or so, but since he's gotta play nice with the General, the lap dog is free to roam about. He ain't good news love, so we gotta get you out of here before he can get to ya." You simply stared at the behemoth of a man under his protective skull mask, his hazel eyes gazing at you with such conviction it made your head swim. What was so special about you that they'd want you so badly? You weren't the prettiest female on base, in fact there had been a plethora of women you'd seen that out shown you by a landslide.

You rubbed your eyes with the heel of your hands, crinkling your nose as you felt the stinging sensation that eluded to the un-shed tears brimming within your eyes. You just wanted one day to go by where nothing strenuous happened - just one day of normalcy. Your hands returned to your hips, eyes turned down to stare at the permanently stained floor - you could hear your Dad's voice again, spewing to you the bullshit he had always done.

'You're small, feeble, shy - you're the perfect target. You look pathetic and easy, to men like that it makes no difference who you are and who you know - they only want one thing, and they'll go to extreme lengths to get it.' You huffed out a breath of frustration, eyes narrowing into slits as you forced yourself to remain as calm as you could. The dam inside you was swelling, like the shore receding just before a tsunami.

"Why is she still here!? You were supposed to be off of base twenty minutes ago!" Intense Crystalline depths swirled with unbridled rage, simmering just below the surface just itching to be released. König closed the distance between you two, his thick arms wrapping around your tiny stature and hauling you up to be nestled against his chest. He didn't break his stride, his eyes on a constant swivel as he surged forwards, his fingers twitching against your thighs. A feeble squeak of surprise slipped from between your lips, your arms and legs squeezing around his waist and neck to keep you steady.

"She's too damn stubborn - she wouldn't move without knowing what was going on." Ghost muttered, his gloved hands being shoved into his jean pockets. He too, kept his eyes on a swivel, falling into step just next to König whilst Johnny brought up the rear.

"Then perhaps next time, you walk and talk at the same time Lieutenant." König snarled, the ferociously venomous retort making you jump. You'd never heard his voice become so thick with such a hostile emotion before, let alone had you ever heard his accent be so prominent. Your eyes watered on their own accord, the utterly vexatious frustration flowing through your veins like thick magma in the base of a volcano.

Perhaps you needed this, needed these military men to push your already fragile self over the edge into the blackened depths of blissful insanity. Instincts that had been engraved upon the very porcelain coated soul you possessed kicked in, your body moving from the memory your muscles had. Your right hand drew back just far enough to go unnoticed by König, ramming forwards hard enough that the resonating crack that echoed through the corridor made you shiver in disgust.

A snarl ripped from the very depths of Königs soul as he released his hold on you, his hands disappearing under his hood to cover what you assumed was a bloodied nose. Your body twisted like that of a cats, landing on your feet and bolting forwards with such speed even you were surprised.

"Y/n!" You heard the animalistic growl of König, the way his voice dropped a solid octave bounced off the walls like bullets off the pavement. It sent your heart into a tizzy, panic drowning out your moment of rage induced insanity. Keep running. You snapped at yourself, demanding your legs propel you further faster. Dantes dog tags bounced against your chest, the cooled metal giving you strength to keep going.

You were never one for tactical escapes - you were far too clumsy and loud for your own good. Left and right you weaved through the bodies that piled into the corridor to see the spectacle you'd made yourself out to be, their eyes becoming saucers as they watched their superiors charge after you of all people. Twists and turns left you discombobulated - you didn't know where you were inside the barracks, but you didn't truly care. You had one goal in mind; escape and get back home.

What would Dante do? You wondered as you slid between a soldiers legs, rolling back to your feet and bolting for an open window. Cause a distraction. Yes, yes he'd cause a distraction big enough to force them to have to help, giving you time to ultimately slip away unseen... hopefully.

The rage was back again, consuming you like the toxic noxious fumes from a volcanic eruption. Out the window you threw yourself, landing on your right shoulder as you rolled. Leaping to your feet you ran towards where they kept the damaged vehicles on base - the ones that were sent off for repairs. It wasn't guarded and hardly any personnel went there during their security checks - it was practically in the middle of base, hardly a spot for anything to go awry... little did they know that you, we're a bundle of chaos about to erupt into a mushroom clouded fireball.

Yes, a distraction was indeed in order, and you knew just the one to keep them on their toes. Little did you know, that off in the distance, that very lapdog was watching you with gleeful anticipation.

Tag List

@scaredknight @lovefallingtopieces @majorsimphere @grizzersmamma @kdkj122920 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen @lianyanhongcheng @treehuggingzealot @deadpoetsandhoney @lolchicsa @daincole @mignightlockhearth

[twilightknight17]

Today on P5T, we finish the DLC, get cranky at logistics, mentally subtract one from Akira’s assumed god-murder total, and I start gathering up everyone for a roadtrip to go lay on the floor of the Atlus Headquarters until they think about their writing choices.

Before we head off to the finale, we chat a little more about Luca and Guernica, as well as why Goro was investigating the graffiti in the first place. Apparently the police asked for his help to look into it because they were getting frustrated at their own lack of progress. It must suck for them, to not be able to find Guernica or the Phantom Thieves. XD Doesn’t explain how he knew about the Arsène mural in a back alley, tho. People in Yongen seem too chill to call the cops over that sort of thing.

I don’t actually remember what it was that he said, but I was given a dialogue option to agree with him, and when I took it…

Careful, Goro. You almost sound like your real self, there. ^_^

He also makes a comment about how, even if he didn’t want to help Luca, Akira would have made him anyway.

I wanted to be a little shit, but I opted for asking him to show off instead.

Now that the mural is complete, it’s actually really beautiful. The three pieces recombined, and dissolved into light, which was absorbed into Luca. We also learn Guernica’s real name, and Luca prepares to open a hole directly into the villains’ lair.

Meanwhile, in the lair itself, Jerri is still being a huge bitch, and also apparently hates art.

She’s trying her best to delete every memory of Luca from Guernica’s heart, so by the time we get there, things are very dire. The world took the thing Guernica loved most, and now she’s been fully warped into wanting to destroy the whole world as retribution.

We fight Guernica to a standstill, and Luca finally, finally gets through to her. Jerri tries to throw a fit, but Sumi is not letting anyone interrupt this moment between sisters.

Luca returns the light of Guernica’s first mural and restores her to normal, and then fades out, her task accomplished. That just leaves Guernica herself, who is pissed at Jerri.

And Jerri is doing herself no favors in response.

Goro… really shouldn’t know that the gods are real at this point, but he’s excused because it’s pretty badass to just flat-out say it to her face like that. XDDD

Jerri is not a god, Jerri is a minion at best, but she still transforms for one last final boss battle that makes it pretty obvious who her master is.

...I’m losing it a little over the fact that she’s still just named “Jerri”, though.

The paint mechanics shift again, this time introducing black paint that we’re not allowed to walk on at all. The whole battlefield is covered at the start, but as Jerri summons enemies, and Guernica backs us up with her paint gun to create a path, the boss is eventually within reach. After a certain amount of her health is depleted, she resets the battlefield to a new configuration and new black paint, and we go again.

Third battlefield is the charm, and despite Jerri’s claims that she’s in control, Guernica understands now that this is her world, and she’s the one with the power.

I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe something a little more dramatic, considering the full capabilities of imagination, but this works too! One last rainbow-painted battlefield where no one has any cover at all. Shoutout to Goro and World’s End for chewing through a ton of her hp. And so Jerri falls, and her giant mock-god form dissolves back to the bird.

Jerri vanishes, and dear god, are we really not getting any more than that regarding her identity?

...thanks for confirming, Sumi.

Guernica talks a little more about how she’s can feel Luca in her heart, and that she’ll always be with her. It makes Sumi tear up, but she’s not sure why it’s affecting her so much. How close was she to breaking through Maruki’s bullshit? Man, if we’d just kept this conversation going for a couple more minutes, we might have done it.

Akira gets a dialogue option to tell Guernica that he’s a fan of hers now, and she’s thrilled. Everyone promises to see each other again one day, and Guernica sends them back to the real world.

...she’s so pretty.

I have to wonder if this is a similar situation to Toshiro. Her eyes aren’t shadow-gold, so I’m assuming this is the real deal. In which case, she’s very chill about being in another world. I’m thinking this place is closest to a Stronghold. Something to protect the core of her heart. And Luca was part of that protection, when she couldn’t protect herself.

We get a brief confirmation that Jerri was in fact working for Salmael, and he’s sending her back to the void because no, Jerri, killing all of humanity is not the kind of tranquility he’s going for. We never actually see him or any of his dialogue, but this is definitely his weird clockwork kingdom.

So what you’re telling me, Atlus, is that there were two active gods in Tokyo in November. Plus Azathoth already actively screwing with Maruki’s head. PLUS Enlil’s cinema and all that nonsense that the Thieves don’t remember. November was an absolute fucking mess. It’s a wonder the whole city didn’t just poof out of existence from the strain.

My actual point here is that I’m trying to wrap my brain around how Salmael and Yaldabaoth are going to coexist ruling over humanity. I guess absolute control can mesh with self-preservation instincts, but it’s funnier to imagine God Wars. XD

Anyway, I wonder how long we’ve been gone this ti��

I want you all to understand that I blurted “NO” out loud.

This is CHEATING, Atlus, you damn cowards, you set this story in November and refuse to commit to the consequences of that. I loved this DLC, I loved the story and the music and the character interactions, but this last two minutes was just… complete disappointment. At least the games that involve the Abyss of Time are justified in no one remembering anything.

The graffiti Goro came to investigate is gone, so he decides to just leave. You came all the way here to Yongen and aren’t going to stick around for longer than two minutes (from your perspective)?

And what time is it? It was afternoon before, as far as I could tell, but Guernica’s done a whole new piece, and the news claims it appeared “overnight”. Is this a weird memory retcon thing on a massive scale, or have we been gone all night and just don’t notice that we’re missing like 12 hours? Morgana’s watching the news report when Akira gets back to Leblanc, but he doesn’t comment on Akira being gone, just implies that they’re running late need to leave, before Sojiro gets upset. So like… late for school? Is it the next morning???? Atlus I’m begging for just a crumb of a sense of time anywhere in this game.

It’s cool art, though. :)

The credits are cool, with little floating paint blobs, and afterwards, we get a brief scene of Toshiro watching the news. His father notes that he seems too interested in the graffiti, and he brushes it off as ‘petty vandalism’… before immediately going back to watching the news intently.

And that is the ending of the DLC! Now I can go get those last few personas for my compendium, and run NG+ merciless mode–

……….are you KIDDING ME, ATLUS.

Fine. Time to call down World’s End to just murder everything. Goro’s gonna be my strongest teammate forever.

It also unlocked challenge maps, with specific character and skill presets for each one. I tried the first one, and not only is it difficult, but all of a sudden, friendly fire is active for AOE spells, so that is bizarre. We’ll see if I can figure those out another day.

For now, time to go not think about how I’d change that ending. :P

[dragon-tamer-1]

Flighteningverse Week 2023

Day 6: Old Friends

Cross woke up as normal, but couldn't help but feel like something was off. He opted to ignore it, as it didn't feel like there was something wrong with him. Maybe it'll go away? It wasn't like when these feathers grew on his skull(which really didn't make sense to him, why on his skull? Sanguine didn't have feathers on his skull, though Tempest does. This whole thing is still a bit strange to him), they were itchy while they were growing in.

As he was going to the kitchen, where he could smell Horror's cooking, he strangely felt someone right beside him when there was no one before. Turning around, he saw someone he never thought he'd see again. Chara, the same from his timeline.

He pointed at him, "What!? How are you here!?"

Chara raised his hands in surrender, "Woah, woah, hold on! I don't know?? How I'm here? The last thing I remember is that you absorbed my Soul? Or fused our Souls together? Or something? And then I'm here? Where is here?"

Cross debated telling him, but also had a feeling that Chara was going to be around permanently now. Maybe it did have something to do with the state of his, or is it both of their's Soul? "It's... a bit hard to explain."

"How is it hard to explain? Are we in our home? It doesn't look like it. Wait, do I have wings? How did I get wings!? And when did you get feathers on your head?"

"No, we aren't in our own universe. We're... somewhere else. Not our universe, but somewhere. I don't know what the name of it even is. As for you having wings, I think it might be tied to us now sharing our Souls,or a body? I am not very sure on how this works."

"Not our universe? Then that means it's all gone?"

"Yeah. But we're with people I've come to trust. And it's better than being stuck in an endless white void."

Chara wasn't sure what to think of this situation. He's attached to this jerk and in a place he doesn't know with other people he doesn't know. But what can he really do? He floated there for a minute, deeming it necessary to calm down and process this situation and the options. For one, he could continue disliking Cross and argue with him all he wants, but that wouldn't be productive to this situation. Secondly, which is more productive, is to just watch and observe for the time being, and figure out what to do from there.

"I may not like this, but I think it's best for both of us to not let the others know about this for now. For one, they'd probably think you hit your head or something. And two, I need time to even come to terms with this. I still don't like you, but given the situation, it would be best to not constantly antagonize you. Not that you'd be able to hurt me, but whatever."

Cross was surprised by their response, but was glad that this wasn't going to be a big argument. At least for now. This was bringing up bad memories, and he wouldn't trust that this wouldn't end up as some conflict between them both. He doesn't even know if he can really trust Chara, but for now he'll keep his guard up.

Here's the small story that was going to go with Day 6 of Flighteningverse Week. My motivation came back for this! So here you go!

@bluepallilworld finished that short story!

[findroleplay]

Greetings,

I am seeking a partner for a roleplay based on The Last of Us. I have played through both video games multiple times and I have watched the TV show through multiple times. I consider myself well-versed in the fandom. I do not require that my partner has the same knowledge of the world. I just simply wanted to explain that I am capable of writing content from both the game or the show. I am over the age of 18 and require that all partners will be the same. I am seeking something a little bit different here for this fandom. I am actually looking for someone to play as Anna, Ellie's mother. Before I get into my ideas, I wanted to include that I am willing to do doubles. I am willing to play Joel, Ellie, or anyone else that you desire from the fandom. All you have to do is ask! Now, onto my idea. I am hoping to play a male OC, who would be Ellie's father. There's a lot we can do here because limited information is provided about her parents. I always find it intriguing to play out character stories who did not have much screen time - plus, I adore Ashley Johnson (actress who plays Anna in the show).

Who exactly is my OC? Well, I tend to prefer happier romances. So the OC that I create would have a healthy romance with Anna. They could even be married. A lot of his creation is open-ended. I will even let you tell me if there's a specific face claim you wish to see and make it happen. I can provide more info about him when discussing this story. The most pertinent bit of information we have to deal with is Anna's infection. In the show/game, we know she dies shortly after giving birth to Ellie and that the bite itself is pivotal to Ellie's immunity. I will admit that this idea would end up twisting around some of the lore of The Last of Us and I hope that's okay. It'll be like a slight AU. But I have a couple of ideas on how to deal with this. Obviously, Marlene will have to opt out of shooting Anna for this to work, so that is a given. Option 1: What if Anna is immune as well? Ellie's immunity is simply passed down genetically from mother to daughter. Option 2: What if Anna's immunity is directly related to being pregnant while being bitten? I am not going to pretend to be an expert on human biology, but let's just say that the pregnancy allowed the cordyceps to grow inside of Anna just as it did for Ellie. So, where does the male OC come in? And if he's such a great guy, why isn't he beside Anna while she's giving birth? I figured that she was running in the beginning of episode nine because things have not gone according to plan. Maybe their settlement was decimated by raiders or FEDRA or infected. The OC had to go out to the frontlines to help defend his wife and unborn daughter, but the Fireflies were struggling mightily. The enemies manage to penetrate their safe zone and Anna is forced to flee on her own because staying put is not an option. The OC is separated from the group as well. Perhaps that house she ran to was a house where she and her husband had decided they would regroup if anything went wrong. And clearly things did. Days pass and he finally shows up at the house to find Anna bitten, but not turned. Obviously she's not in great shape, she's weak, and needs some help, so before they can even think about trying to find their daughter again, she needs some serious medical treatment and thus is our jumping off point for the story. I think it would be so much fun to write out. I'm also all about long-term roleplays, so once the story progresses into the future, we could absolutely look at having a family reunion with Ellie and her parents too! I know this post is running on quite extensively now so I will just wrap everything up. Apologies for the length, but I have tons of muse for this and can provide more information upon request. Please react if interested. Thank you!

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