#and she most certainly has stabbed someone in their sleep before and has killed a lover

[trappedinafantasy37]

POV: Evil murder kitten tries to evil murder you in your sleep. She's desperate for a reason not to evil murder you because she does not want to.

[syntheticfoxfire]

Invader | Chishiya Shuntaro | [F]

Summary: People have likened Chishiya to a cat for as long as he can remember, from his classmates to most recently Kuina. It's nonsense, of course. Or is it? Word count: 2.6k

Chishiya’s been told that there’s something cat-like about him more times than he can count. He doesn’t care, not really.

They’ve told him it’s something about his smirk, the cheshire grin, the lazy stretch of his lips that makes people around him feel inferior. When he smiles like that, he looks like he knows something the others don’t, they say. A cat that ate its mouse happily. He studied the expression in the mirror after someone told him for the first time but he just doesn’t see it. It doesn’t matter. As long as it has any sort of useful effect on people, he’s okay with it.

If it’s not the smirk, then maybe his eyes. He has noticed very early on in his life that a lot of people get fascinated by them. It’s a mystery, even to him. His eyes are pretty ordinary in both shape and color. He doesn’t understand why they seem to draw people in as much as they do but it plays to his advantage in this strange country so he can’t really complain.

He’s been told it’s his behavior as a whole that gives him the cat vibe. His subtle laziness, the way he functions in short bursts of explosive energy when he needs to and then goes back to slowly strolling around. He never takes the stairs if there’s a working elevator. Of course he always keeps himself fit, especially since coming to Borderland, but he doesn’t see the appeal in running around and wasting his energy. He didn’t see it then and certainly doesn’t see it now.

They also told him it’s because of the way he always sticks to the walls and places where he can, literally and not just figuratively, look down on others. He doesn’t have much of an explanation for that one. Well, sure, in Borderland it’s something he does for survival and safety - elevated places allow him to see the bigger picture and watch everyone else get killed, cheated or otherwise betrayed while he can stand back and relax. Same goes for sticking to walls and such - no one’s gonna stab or shoot you in the back if the only thing behind you is a wall.

There are many more irrelevant points that people used over the years to liken Chishiya to a cat. He’s already forgotten most of them but one keeps popping up in his mind. Especially lately.

It’s not the fact that it was Kuina who told him. He’s heard it before but she reminded him of it and recent events made him think about the remark more than he’d like. Somehow her words always pop up in his mind as he goes about his day and does the thing.

What Kuina said is that her cat used to do the same thing she says Chishiya does - it had its favorite spots that it’d use to sleep or hide in and would get mad if, for whatever reason, it couldn’t get there. Back then he scoffed at her and told her off. Now, however, he hates to admit that she just might have had a point.

It’s irrational and infuriating.

This whole situation started off pretty innocently. There was a big wave of newcomers to the Beach. It happens sometimes. The Hatter needs a large army of people to collect cards for him, die for him. It’s only natural that he takes in all kinds of trash. Most of them die within a few days anyway.

And on one of the days that they brought in these people, Chishiya felt like observing life in the former resort from a higher ground. It was fun sometimes. If he was lucky, there would be someone worthy of his brief attention. Individual to be used by him for another plan he might come up with. Mostly, though, it was just a way to pass time.

This particular evening he felt like the balcony on the one but the last floor would do. It had a nice overview of the lobby and since he needed to extend his visa anyway, once Hatter and the executives play the siren to gather the crowd, he won’t need to move an inch.

Yes, that place would indeed be perfect for tonight.

Imagine his surprise when he found someone has already taken the space for themselves. He was sure he’s never seen you before. He didn’t care to remember much about you but he did anyway. Not because he’d be that interested in you, although he must admit it’s smart what you’ve done. Barely anyone thinks to observe the inner workings of Beach and the new arrivals. Anyway, no, you got stuck in his memory purely because he felt this irrational aggravation that someone was occupying his spot. 

As much as he doesn’t care about humans, he cares about his comfort when he can get it. And changing his routine is not comfortable.

Well, it wasn’t worth getting worked up about. It was probably your first night here and you got lost or something - no one ever comes here otherwise, except for him. It’s too far from the bar.

He simply walked past you and found himself another spot. It didn’t feel right but he didn’t care enough to be bothered by it.

But in the weeks that came, he found himself feeling… something. He wouldn’t say he was properly bothered, but it certainly wasn’t the natural state of his being where emotions just pass through him. If he was honest with himself, which he seldom was in regards to these things, he’d find that he wouldn’t be able to decide whether the thing that irritated him more was that someone kept stealing his spots or that it bothered him.

Every time you were where he wanted to be, he suppressed the wave of mild irritation and walked by to a different hiding spot. Maybe it was good that there was a ripple in the never changing pond of his life. He felt something, and it was almost fascinating. 

He could, however, admit that it was suspicious and potentially dangerous that you seemed to invade all of his favorite and less favorite places. You shouldn’t be able to sneak around as easily as you did. He had a feeling you must already remember him about as well as he remembered every little detail about you from the constant passing glances and fleeting meetings. Still, he did not approach you. 

Not even when he found you in the security room, late at night when there was nobody to keep track of what was going on at the Beach. He couldn’t pretend that he was simply just passing by. Your eyes met and he knew you knew. You gave him a nod and left the room. That was the first time you’ve surrendered the spot to him. And when he realized that you might not be completely useless. The tension between militants and Hatter was growing, perhaps he could use one more pawn.

Nonetheless, things remained the same for some time. You kept walking past each other, finding your chosen spot occupied by the other. When he leaned against the railing and felt heat lingering there, or when he climbed to the roof and found a blanket left behind on his spot, he ignored the gentle tug on his nerves.

Gentle. If his anger and irritation before were a rumbling before a storm, now it wasn’t more than a single dark cloud in the sky. He must have gotten over this childish phase. He had no claim over those particular spots, after all. It was ridiculous that he should get worked up by someone else occupying them. So he thought whatever has come over him for the past weeks has successfully evaporated. He remained neutral in his feelings towards this fact, although maybe he’d admit a little bit of satisfaction.

It was only after another period of time - was it a month, weeks, who could tell in this country - that he realized that his previous feelings had not actually subsided into nothing.

When he first took notice of the weird change that was happening to his body, it’s not an overstatement to say he panicked for a second. Just slightly, merely a brief furrowing of his brows. He pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against. It was still warm when his back collided with it, ready to stand there for a while and watch the people of the Beach in their natural habitat. Strangely enough, the lingering warmth of the wall somehow permeated his hoodie and skin and settled in his chest.

He felt calm.

He dismissed it to be a matter of basic biology. Warmth helps to calm human beings in certain cases. Humans are social creatures. Combine these two factors together and the effect your lingering body warmth had on him was completely natural, in the cold sense of the word. It was just biology. Something he had no control over because his body was physically made to react in a certain way to certain stimuli. 

It was more than that, though, wasn’t it? Not to mention that had he not shut down the truly rational part of his brain to protect himself, he’d see many flaws of his train of thoughts.

The usual emptiness inside of him that felt, well, empty, was different. He felt at peace with it. Not that he’d usually feel bothered by the void. He’s long since grown used to it and didn’t really think that much about it until something pointed right at it as if to say - ‘Look! That is not a human, that is just an empty shell!’. That’s what the strange warmth did, but instead of alarming him to his own alienation from his fellow humans it felt almost comforting. As if the emptiness was okay, as if he wasn’t missing anything. He frowned again and left for his room. He needed to think.

As much as he did just that though, he wasn’t able to figure out anything. Complete and utter apathy might not have been that bad after all. 

Why would he feel like this? 

It was frustrating. Not enough to mess with his scheming or anything, but it surely was strange to have his brain occupied with something he could do zero things about. Or could he? Perhaps. After he thinks about it some more.

And yet no matter how much he waited for the feeling to go away, no matter how much he analyzed its source and cause, he always arrived at one single conclusion - he was human. An empty husk of one, sure, but still a human being with human needs, emotions and instincts.

Humans are social creatures, they need company. He had Kuina, of course, and he mingled with the other occupants of the Beach, yet it seemed that wasn’t quite what his body and the instinct-driven parts of his brain longed for. To be reminded of his own humanity was irritating as much as it was intriguing.

He bided his time, he knew it and you knew it - and he knew you knew and so on and so on. The slight shift in the atmosphere was easy to notice for you two alone. By the time he realized what’s going on with him, you were already aware of that same process happening in your own body, although acceptance was much easier on your part. 

Now that he understood his own feelings, he felt somewhat ashamed almost - like he was outsmarted by you. This one loss, however, he’d allow himself. Feelings were beyond him anyway, nothing more than an interesting chemical experiment to play around with until his next plan could move to another phase. Who knows, maybe you could play a role there. Perhaps he will decide soon.

Tonight was a successful game night for both of you. His lips twitched as he found himself vaguely remembering something about fate as he strolled through the halls that would lead him onto the roof. Once again, he walked slowly in what his acquaintances in the real world would call a cat-like manner. He was purposely taking his time. He seemed to do that a lot lately.

Sure enough, you were already present on the spot where he always sat - and where he meant to sit tonight, although it was hardly a surprise you thought to do the same - blanket folded under you to fight against the cold. You turned to him when the doors closed and frowned for a second, seeing he stayed and didn’t walk away. He gave you a wave and a little raise of the corners of his mouth. You turned your head.

The hollow look in your eyes told him most of what he needed to skip the small talk. A hearts game, no doubt about it. Those were hard on most of the people here. Chishiya found them fascinating. At least some of them. If the other players were solid, he himself needed to come to the roof and breathe and think. Analyze. 

Humans were so different from him.

He invited himself over, sitting close enough to you that your body heat mixed with his. Legs dangling in the air over the edge of the roof, your thighs and sides were barely not touching. You didn’t flinch away, he noticed. Then again, there was hardly a reason to act shy now. This wasn’t really that different from leaning against surfaces where the other’s warmth lingered.

“Diamonds?” you spoke up, breaking the silence of the night. He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“What makes you think so?” he asked back. To answer a question with another is impolite, but it’s not like anyone cared anymore. It was kind of refreshing. 

Anyhow. 

It’s easy enough for him to read you, but the other way around - that would surprise him. As for you, after a hearts game, you were usually like this - lifeless, hollow. You were more likely to walk around and look for the warmest place - a place he left warm - to stay. Unless, like today, you headed to the roof. He supposed you would do that if the game ended badly.

After diamonds you��d be on edge or in a good mood, depending on the difficulty, spades would most often leave you exhausted for the day, and clubs uneasy. It seemed you weren’t much of a team player.

“You look bored,” your eyes shifted to look at him without your head moving. He scoffed; you were right. Then again, not an impressive guess this one.

“The others died?” he asked in turn, voice devoid of emotions. As always. He knew you’d know he knows.

“Some of them,” your voice sounded eerily similar to his as you said the words, “But I just figured out the solution to the game. One that would allow all of us to survive.”

He hummed in response, not saying more. This was a better display of why you could get a role in his plans. Did you think about different ways of finishing the games every time? Was that why you seemed to enjoy hearts games the most? Not bad. Interesting, even. Maybe he could try it too next time.

Neither of you spoke a word after that. The silence felt more natural. You both spent too much time with memories, lingering traces of the other that meeting in person now felt surreal and out of your respective comfort zones. Yet there was something strangely comforting about it as well. 

Watching the buzz of life underneath your feet and the starry skies above your heads, you shared the silence and heat your bodies produced. Perhaps tonight there was no need for words at all.

[ladyravenjadethe2nd]

Spoilers for Part 3 of If Wishes were Kisses

I think I'm gonna call this one Isekai Making just to stick to the naming theme.

Next character is.....Milluki. Illumi will be 7 when Milluki is born.

Yep we are getting all the Zoldycks from Momo and Shouto although Shouto only carries the one.

The exact genre is Satire and I will explain that more in a minute. Frist lets breck down the build up to Milluki's birth.

Momo and Shouto finally get together. They have been in love, but not saying it for awhile, but a near death experience causes them to fall into bed together.

They are super happy about it, but Illumi who knows when Milluki should be born has been replacing Momo's birth control pills with fakes.

Now Momo's body is weird. She can pull a cannon out of her stomach and barley look like she's lost weight. Certainly her boob size never goes down so I head cannon that fats works weirdly on her. I don't think she would show much.

So she doesn't notice right away, but she does do the responsible thing and take a test after missing a few periods even though she thinks it's stress.

Her and Shouto are hesitantly happy about it. Work is calmer. Illumi is calmer and oddly thrilled about having a sibling so it should be fine right?

They got married before they even got together for paperwork reasons so instead of having a real wedding once they get together they plan a big baby shower.

The drama has waned and the family is calm. Illumi is in his good boy persona and only gets caught half the time when he does weird shit like try to sleep in a hole or drink bleach.

Both grandfathers has chosen to chill out on Illumi's future career until he is close to highs school age.

Maybe someone else in the Todoroki clan has even gone to therapy. I'm betting on Fuyumi.

So looking at Milluki now he is an interesting character. I consider him the most 'normal' Zoldyck that has the most 'normal' sibling relationship with Killua and the reason for that is his 'normal' hobby.

The guy is a weeb. He has been watching and daydreaming about normal families and close friendships since he was kid. He has Yu Yu-Hakusho, Dragon Ball Z and Sailor Moon stuff in his room.

Milluki knows the power of friendship. He understands good and evil. Has seen what people with good morals are like. He is well aware that his family would be the villains of the story if he lived in an anime.

Milluki doesn't try to make Killua come back because he understands that if you have a wanting friendship mentally your going to be a bad villain no matter how skilled you are.

Milluki does think his family is better then all the other villains though because they are a family. His media constantly shows how powerful bonds are and I think that's why he is so loyal to his family.

He's relationship with Killua is pretty decent compared to Killua's with the others.

1) The torture scene is very tame for Zoldycks. You think Milluki doesn't know enough about Killua's training to know the only thing he really considers painful is electrocution? He's supposedly really good at torture, but just uses a whip.

2) Killua says he isn't sorry, but he also says that he does feel bad for stabbing Milluki and that's why he allowed the torture. I'd say being stabbed is a lot worse then whipped. Not the normal amount of Zoldyck violence so he feels bad about it.

2) Killua has never shown any fear towards him despite him being older. There was a point where he was stronger then Killua just because he was 6 years older. Killua knows Illumi won't kill him and he doesn't seem to mind most torture, but he's terrified of Illumi.

Clearly Milluki has never really tried to make Killua fear him.

3) Milluki is the only one Killua is willing to call and he does it with his regular phone. After telling Gon not to use his computer because it can be traced he calls Milluki on Whale Island who is like the best tech person ever. That bird that delivers stuff also found Killua on a boat headed away from whale island.

Milluki could find Killua, but Killua trust him not to tell their mother.

4) The yo-yos. We see Killua make a deal for information, but Milluki seems to just send Killua handmade special yo-yos. I say handmade because Killua says his brother made the alloy for them. Killua doesn't kill anymore and he has nothing Milluki would want. Could be he got them from Milluki awhile ago from a deal and just needed them sent to him, but even then someone had to be trusted with his location to send them and that had to be Milluki.

All this to say. I think that Milluki thinks of his family as being 'Zoldyck normal'. They hurt each other for 'good' reasons. They care about each other in a special Zoldyck kind of way. I don't think he ever questioned that his family 'loves' him and he 'loved' them back.

At least until Illumi kills Killua. Killua the favorite.

Milluki feels deeply betrayed by his family now.

Illumi who is in shock and not acting mournful at all. Silva who is only somewhat disappointed. Zeno is quite. Kalluto doesn't come home for the funeral and his mother who he still calls mama only pretends to cry.

She can't shed tears under her visor so to cry for real she would have to take it off, but she doesn't. She looks perfectly put together while she dramatically wails at an empty coffin because they didn't care enough to bring home a body.

Milluki feels like no one is sad his little brother is dead and if no one loved Killua, the favorite? Then it's impossible that any of them ever loved Milluki.

This is what is going though his head when the light takes him. His whole life feels like a lie. Does he have to fear Illumi killing him too? How close has he been to death every time he angers his family?

He isn't just mourning Killua he's mourning the family he thought he had. All the abuse was only justified if they loved him, but they didn't.

Being Isekaied is a great distraction. What's even better is that Milluki knows what an Isekai is and.... he knows My Hero Academia.

This story is a Satire or Parody of SI fanfics.

You see Milluki isn't a great fanfic writer himself, but he is certainly a connoisseur of the fanfiction format.

Much like one that does not paint can be an art critic Milluki has sent pages long flames picking apart fanfictions and the very worst kinds of fanfictions for Mary Sues and unrealistic power leveling is of course SI fanfictions of which he now finds himself in.

Luckily he is well read on the topic so he has a 27 step plan for ultimate power in his back pocket or he would if he was born as Deku or any one else in cannon so some plans will have to be adjusted.

If it's not clear he very much assumes he is in a fanfiction and spends a fair amount of time pissed at the author, but in order to run from his own angsty backstory Milluki is going to dive headfirst into this new world.

He will be in denial about Illumi having his memories, but that's alright because Illumi makes the same assumption about him at first.

He will try to have that Main Character energy despite mostly wanting to stuff his face with food and sit in front of a computer.

There will be a lot of him trying to exploit fandoms tropes and canon knowledge. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't.

He's going to be just as big as before, but for quirk reasons.

See I think it's BS that Momo has a quirk based off fat, but doesn't look like Fatgum so I think a pretty normal mutation for her quirk would be for her kid to have the same quirk, but retain a large about of body fat.

It could in fact be considered a stronger version of her quirk since he can make much more stuff then she can.

He will at first aim for Heroic to be his daytime job while he takes over the world from the shadows, but gives that up pretty fast. He doesn't exactly enjoy excise and sense no one makes him train he knows he isn't going to have a good time of it. Making support equipment will work just as well.

I also see him trying to help his parents with finances and paperwork and anything to be useful because he knows he was only tolerated for his usefulness before, but he will realize he is valued for more then what he can do for his new family and became fond of them.

He will try very hard to not have emotions about having a loving family for once and mostly succeed.

I think he has low empathy so I think he would be slow to love people.

At some point though he is going to realize that Illumi is a bit of failure at being the perfect child so by the time Killua is born Milluki considers himself to be winning the favorite child contest that only him and Illumi think are a thing.

Milluki once he has properly mourned is mostly mad and offended that Illumi killed Killua more then anything so he tries to one up Illumi in everything as much as possible.

His relationship with everyone is complicated.

He gets along mostly with Illumi until he has to face the fact that Illumi remembers then he is pissed off at him and then doesn't trust him around Killua.

I may put Milluki very low on the sociopathic spectrum actually, but I'm unsure.

While he doesn't really like Killua he is protective of him especially from Illumi.

Illumi will of course try to repair his relationship with Milluki, but he doesn't know what he did wrong so good luck with that.

I very much want Milluki to have a saving his little brother moment somewhere.

I think he will be unbearably smug that he is more trusted then Illumi around Killua.

Illumi tried to stick a pin in Milluki as a baby to train him and their parents Did Not like that.

I have a few other random notes for Milluki. Like he becomes good friends with Iida and Camie's child Raito who also likes anime.

He gives up on ultimate power at some point because it's too much work and he works out his issues mostly.

I think I'd like to see him ending his story either as an adult or close to it with a fairly boring chapter pointing out how realistically being reborn into an anime isn't going to change the kind of person you are so the chance of you having the motivation to go through with your plan to be op is pretty low.

[kitkatt0430]

So I've decided to go ahead with watching the latest episode of the Flash. Spoilers below.

Blaine is such a fucking idiot. Wow. Like, that's how he's gonna break Caitlin's dead to the team? And has he considered, even once, that the version of Frost he brings back might not be the one he knew? Frost didn't meet him until after she split from Caitlin. The remnants of Frost in Caitlin - if there are any - may not have the first damn idea who Mark is. But what she will know? Is he killed her sister, that she sacrificed her life to save, in order to bring Frost back.

Oh wow, what a complete and utter moron, I hate Blaine so damn much.

Where's Hartley, I'm tired of the Snow plotline already.

Oh, there he is. Flirting with his boyfriend and they're adorable. Oooh, do Hartley and Roderick own this club? The flirting made it sound like they do. Or at least Hartley does. He and Roderick being adorable together is so great. This is everything I've wanted for those two since Roderick stopped being Sleeping Beauty in S6. (Gosh has it been that long?)

Pied Piper vs. the Fiddler - I do like the way their sound tech interacts and the fight, though short, is fun.

(No seriously can someone just stab Mark Blaine a few times. Whoops, he's dead, how terrible, let's forget about him immediately? Like, is he just being particularly awful in this episode or has what little tolerance I have for him eroded entirely after skipping most of S8?)

Anyway, Snow does not seem thrilled about Mark's plan. She's probably afraid to die and is too 'new' to life to be able to admit it. And I have to wonder if really she's just Caitlin with amnesia and Frost's powers?

Anyway, seriously, just fuck Blaine.

Thank goodness Hartley still knows where all the stuff in Caitlin's lab is. Or at least has a general idea, anyway. Though I'd like to think sometimes he just hung out with Caitlin for old times sake.

Oh no. Barry please do not make excuses for Blaine. I'm so tired of this guy. Though Barry being all cryptic on 'we have to go' is hilarious.

Chester - TECHNOBABLE

Iris follows that so much better than I did. She's so smart and awesome and let me just fangirl over her a bit.

Hartley muttering at, and cussing out, his gloves as he tries to repair them. Most relatable moment on this episode so far.

Snow certainly has Caitlin's desire to help people, worrying about Hartley clearly being hurt. And she realizes how worried about Roderick Hartley is. Listening to him worry about Roderick. Awww

But Snow makes a good point. Change is something you have to choose for yourself. Trying to force a change for someone else isn't going to work. *staring right at Blaine* But Hartley has already changed - while having Roderick back in his life may have made choosing to change easier, Hartley made that choice before Roderick was saved and thought there was no way to save Roderick. He made that choice when he went to save Barry from Godspeed. Everything after was just follow through.

Everyone fighting over who Snow should die to resurrect. Do any of them even hear themselves? How awful and, quite frankly, like bad guys they sound? She's her own person now and she deserves to live, even if the way she came into the world was awful.

>_<

Okay, so Iris' reasons for choosing Frost are kinda dumb. *sigh*

Snow loves nature. (Sky High anyone???) Snow is very sweet, but I do think they're spending too much time drawing out this plot line. That said I'm so glad that Cecile at least actually takes the time to ask Snow what she wants.

All this retconning with Thomas Snow. Seriously, none of that fits in the established Caitlin&Frost timeline. How much did the multiverse reboot change Caitlin and Frost's origins? But whatever, at least they finally decided it should be Snow's choice.

(No, really, what would make more sense is if Thomas had considered using a CRC type machine to get rid of Icicle but ultimately was too afraid Icicle would use it to kill him instead. Then that could have been a development that happened later when he locked himself away to try and find a 'cure' to Icicle. And a brain scan from Caitlin's childhood? What did they want to do, restore Caitlin to a twelve year old's mentality? Brains change over time. Oh wow, so much was not thought through in this retconning.)

Oh no! Roderick! Hartley, seriously, learn to ask for help when you need it? Lucky him, Barry came anyway and showed him what he needed to do to save Roderick.

Hartley - You figure it out, I'm busy. *grinning at Roderick because awwwwwww look he's so in love*

Snow picking the name Khione - I'm so glad she got to pick her own name.

That said, seriously. Who is gonna tell Cisco about all this? He's gonna be so pissed off.

Hartley destroying the CRC. Yes, finally, someone with some sense around here. Well, if we can't have Cisco and Caitlin friendship this season, I'm liking the Hartley and Khione friendship. Blaine threatening Hartley... is it bad I'm hoping something comes of that so Hartley can kick Mark Blaine's butt? Since clearly Hartley's the only one with any sense whatsoever.

Let's hope Hartley sticks around for more episodes. *finger crossed*

Iris, yes, make fun of Barry's dancing more please. Someone stop him. And Chester. Please. This is the kind of dancing Angel was terrified of dancing like on AtS.

Oooh, looks like Hartley will be in the next episode too. (checked out the trailer for ep 3) Guess I'll be checking in for that one too.

So it does seem like no one is properly upset or grieving over Caitlin or really mourning her which... is disappointing. Barry at least feels guilty over their last interaction but Blaine's just like 'let's kill her extra dead for Frost's sake'. Ah yes, what a wonderful person he was for Frost to date.

All the 'this is what Caitlin would want' going on just sounds like them handwaving over the fact that Caitlin was grieving and depressed, never got the help she needed for the multiple traumas and deaths of loved ones she endured, and she was not in any way, shape, or form thinking clearly when she tried to resurrect Frost. Her death was a terrible and preventable tragedy and it's like no one wants to look too hard or else they'll have to accept their culpability in failing one of their friends. But sacrificing Khione to resurrect Caitlin or Frost would have just been repeating Caitlin's mistakes so... it took them way too long to come to an answer that should have been obvious as the only ethical choice from the start.

Anyway, I want more Hartley and Roderick being cute together because they're now the cutest couple on the show. Sorry Barry and Iris, but you've been usurped by the cute and flirty duo. But then Barry and Iris were only the cutest couple on the show 'cause Cisco and Kamilla left, so... *shrug* (Grant and Candice do what they can with the show's writing, but 'babymoon'? They're not spinning that as romantic, there's just no way. But at least they're acknowledging that Iris should be pregnant sometime relatively soonish.)

(I did actually go back and watch Ep1 before this. And, um... it had some good parts. But I also skipped around a lot 'cause I got bored. It was not the best time loop episode i've ever seen. It was middling of the road as far as episodes went and reminded me more of the reasons why it took me so long to start shipping Barry/Iris on the show in the first place. Namely, did Iris ever actually choose Barry? Or did she, after Eddie died, let herself get pushed into a relationship that she didn't necessarily want because everyone was pushing Barry as her destiny? Not that she didn't clearly find happiness with Barry, but... well, this is one of the reasons why i say canon does them dirty. Barry/Iris has been hit and miss as a result and it's not a good sign that the final season started off with something that felt more like a miss than a hit.)

[robininthelabyrinth]

3. I have no idea if this time line would work, but MYX and XY get attached to each other, so when the time comes that MYX and XY need to leave Koi Tower, JGY helps them get married in secret and run away to Dongu. Anyways, a few years latter, JGY has a kid that needs to go and people in a removed location that owe him favors! Isn’t that a wonderful combination! A Jin(?) Rusong raised by Uncles Mo and Xue, or whatever they go by these days, would be very chaotic. Bonus: they start a relatively safe demonic cultivation sect, maybe with some guidance from the Nie (has NMJ never been killed by the Jin in this Au?), or more specifically, Huaisang. SL and XXC who got a happy ending decide to check out this no blood line sect (it looks slightly dubious, but surely can’t be to bad! Right?) A-Qing at least is enjoying her new friend -🟪🦋

Should Have Been Listening - ao3

“Let go of me.”

“I won’t,” Mo Xuanyu said, clutching Xue Yang’s arm. “I won’t, I won’t! You’re my only friend here!”

Xue Yang looked down at him in what he thought was mostly exasperation, but might have also been a little fondness – after all, if it’d been anyone else who’d grabbed him, he’d have stabbed them.

He still didn’t know why he didn’t stab Mo Xuanyu, too, but in all honesty, he wasn’t that interested in exploring it. He did what he wanted, and right now, he didn’t want to murder Mo Xuanyu.

Irritating as he sometimes was.

“Little brat,” he said. “I have important business to go do.”

“It’s not something that he ordered, though!”

“So what?” Xue Yang bristled. “I don’t just do what hetells me!”

“But that means he won’t cover for you, and that means you’ll get in trouble!” Mo Xuanyu argued. “How can I let you go all alone to get in trouble? You have to take me with you! What will you do without me? Who’ll keep you entertained and sneak sweets for you if not for me?”

Xue Yang’s lips twitched. Okay, maybe there was a reason he kept the brat around.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “This is something I’ve got to do – something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. I’m going to kill a lot of people and get into a lot of trouble, more trouble than ever before. I’ll probably lose my life. How can I possibly take you with me?”

Mo Xuanyu scowled up at him. It was a very weak scowl – barely more than a pout. “You think that’s going to make me not want to come with you?”

Xue Yang’s eyebrows went up. “You cry at the sight of blood!”

“I cry at a lot of things!”

Xue Yang wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was true, Mo Xuanyu cried at a lot of things.

“Maybe if I come with you, it won’t be so bad!”

Yeeeeah, Xue Yang wasn’t going to count on that.

“Or maybe you don’t have to go…?”

“I have to go,” he explained. “If I don’t go, I can’t get revenge, and I have to have revenge.”

Mo Xuanyu blinked up at him.

“I don’t really understand, but okay,” he said, and tugged on his arm. “Let’s go together, then. I promise I won’t cry!”

-

He cried.

He cried a lot.

-

“Stop fucking crying.”

-

“Just – ugh. Listen. You’re ruining the mood.”

-

“If you can’t stop crying, go away. Now. Or I’ll stab you!”

-

“Okay, see, look, I just killed the leaders, see? Just the old men. Everyone else is just locked in their rooms. Once the sect leader comes back, I’ll kill him too, and that’ll be all. Okay? Everyone else lives. I promise. Now stop crying, okay?”

-

“I don’t want to know,” Jin Guangyao said when they got back. “I don’t want to know at all.”

“Good,” Xue Yang grumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Enough people heard about the reason for what you did that opinions are mixed as to whether your actions were the Chang clan’s just rewards for their former misdeeds or if they were actually wrong,” Jin Guangyao said. He looked irritated. “But you still killed high-ranking members of a sect, and you left enough alive that they’re demanding your head on a platter. You’re going to need to run away.”

Mo Xuanyu hesitantly gestured as if he wished to speak.

“Yes, you can go with him. Now that my father is dead, no one cares where you are.”

Mo Xuanyu beamed.

“You’re just going to let us go?” Xue Yang asked suspiciously. “That seems unlike you. What’s in it for you?”

“Oh, I’m not just going to let you go. I’m going to give you money, too,” Jin Guangyao said. “And all you need to do for me is one little tiny favor –”

Pity that that was when Xue Yang stopped listening, too busy staring at Mo Xuanyu’s delighted face and counting all the way he was in for it now.

-

“I’ve always wanted to take care of a baby,” Mo Xuanyu said happily.

“Good for you,” Xue Yang said darkly as he stalked through the streets.

He would rather that Jin Guangyao had needed a body buried and a death covered up or something – and judging by the baby’s perturbed expression, it probably agreed with him. Fuck, maybe Jin Guangyao had meant for them to murder the baby once they got it far enough out of the way. It was just as plausible as Mo Xuanyu's assumption that they were supposed to take care of it.

Damnit, maybe he should have been listening.

“Listen, neither of us are equipped to handle a baby. Go find a woman to help us – someone poor and helpless who doesn’t have any other choice.”

“Okay!”

-

Xue Yang shut his eyes. “What exactly,” he said slowly, “did you think I asked you to get us a woman for, exactly?”

“To…watch the baby?” Mo Xuanyu guessed. “When we’re busy or sleeping? Anyway, what’s wrong with A-Qing, anyway? She’s nice!”

“I’m not nice,” A-Qing said. The damn brat was smirking – and for once it wasn’t his damn brat, but some blind brat with a cocky expression. “I stole your wallet and you burst into tears and it was really embarrassing.”

“He does that,” Xue Yang said wearily. At least he’d noticed the theft this time – all of his lessons in ‘how not to be a sucker and get constantly taken advantage of’ were maybe having something of an impact. Maybe. “For some reason I’m apparently into it.”

He couldn’t explain it any other way.

“…loser.”

“I will stab you,” Xue Yang threatened. “I don’t care if you’re blind.”

“Won’t someone tell me why A-Qing isn’t a perfectly good babysitter?” Mo Xuanyu demanded. He was holding the baby in his arms again – the baby liked him more than it did Xue Yang, which meant that between Mo Xuanyu and the baby, the baby had better self-preservation instincts – and he was trying his best stern scowl which was of course barely more than a pout and a so-called ‘fierce’ expression that made Xue Yang want to laugh.

Not even Mo Xuanyu’s horrific make-up skills could make thatface intimidating. Or maybe it was just that the person behind the face was just so completely unthreatening that there was no help for it?

“Well? Tell me!”

Xue Yan opened his mouth, then shrugged and shut it again.

A-Qing patted Mo Xuanyu on the shoulder. “I’m too young. No milk.”

“…milk?”

“You know. The thing babies eat?”

“…milk,” Mo Xuanyu repeated, only now he looked absolutely heartbroken at having failed the mission that Xue Yang had assigned him almost entirely just to get him out of the way while Xue Yang collected some spare cash and threatened their way onto a ride out of this piece of shit town.

“It’s fine,” Xue Yang said hastily. “We’ll just get a goat or something, I don’t know.”

“Okay, I actually only came here to laugh at you,” A-Qing said. “But now I’m legitimately worried about this baby. Don’t you two know anything? How’d you even get a baby, anyway?”

-

“Stop laughing. It’s not that funny.”

-

“Seriously. Stop laughing, or I stab you.”

“Don’t worry, A-Qing,” Mo Xuanyu said. “He doesn’t mean it! Threats are just how he expresses affection!”

“It most certainly is not.”

“That is absolutely amazing,” A-Qing said, wiping her eyes. “Best thing I’ve ever heard., if by best I mean worse-but-hilarious. I mean. If that’s what he considers affection, what must his flirting be like?”

“No one is flirting with anyone!”

-

“Are you going to leave at some point?”

“Obviously not,” A-Qing said. She’d caught the same ride as them, using Xue Yang’s cash no less – Mo Xuanyu had insisted that it was the least they could do after the whole milk misunderstanding, which was stupid, she ought to be paying them for wasting their time. Xue Yang couldn’t wait to get rid of her, although he had to admit that she’d been pretty useful in terms of putting on the ‘poor sad blind girl and her two brothers all alone in the world’ act to get them a room at the inn at prices even Xue Yang felt comfortable paying. “Are you joking? This is so much funnier than walking by myself. Anyway, I enjoy watching people crash and burn.”

“Aren’t you too young to be such a bitch?” Xue Yang hissed. “And, I don’t know, blind?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t care what you –”

The sound of crying came from the other room.

It was quickly followed by a second set of crying.

Xue Yang felt the onset of a headache.

“…truce?” A-Qing suggested sweetly, as if she knew exactly how much it pissed him off and thought it was the funniest thing ever, which was…probably accurate, actually. “I’ll get the baby to stop crying if you do the same with Mo Xuanyu.”

Yeah, that was definitely a headache. The sort of headache called why do I like that brat.

Mo Xuanyu owed him so much candy for putting up with this shit.

“Fine,” Xue Yang said begrudgingly. “Truce. Temporarily. And then you leave!”

-

“So we live here now, huh?” A-Qing said, looking around the house they’d claimed. “That’s neat.”

“Why do you live with us again?” Xue Yang asked her, though by now he barely even meant it. A-Qing was clearly another one in the same mold as Mo Xuanyu: you just couldn’t say no to her…or, rather, you could, at length and top volume and with threats, only it just didn’t stick. “I definitely did not recall asking you to stay.”

Though it was nice to have someone else around that wasn’t going to get immediately ripped off by literally anyone who came their way. Mo Xuanyu’d started getting conned by the literal infant that they were taking care of – he was completely hopeless.

Also, questionably blind or not, at least A-Qing had no hesitation about beating people with her stick if they struck her the wrong way, which was a life approach Xue Yang agreed with wholeheartedly.

“She’s going to learn to cultivate!” Mo Xuanyu chirped from where he was applying his make-up. “Demonic cultivation, too! We had a whole discussion about it while you were out getting groceries!”

That made a certain amount of sense, Xue Yang supposed. You didn’t need talent to be a demonic cultivator – technically speaking, given his bloodline, Mo Xuanyu was more naturally gifted in cultivation than Xue Yang, which was just wrong on all sorts of levels – and it was certainly more effective a defense mechanism than A-Qing’s stick. If there were two of them, they could protect Mo Xuanyu and the baby more effectively, taking shifts when needed, and Mo Xuanyu, who was also going to learn demonic cultivation no matter how many times Xue Yang had to hammer it into his head, could be the last line of defense, largely since no one would ever expect him to be able to do…anything…and they’d be right, too.

So it wasn’t the craziest idea in the world, only…

“…who is she going to be learning from, exactly!?”

-

“Have you ever considered charging for your skill in teaching cultivation lessons instead of your skill in stabbing people?” A-Qing asked one day. They were lying on the ground and having the corpses they’d raised fan them to try to reduce the temperature – it was that sort of day. Also, Mo Xuanyu, who might’ve objected, wasn’t around. “You’re not actually that bad at this. Might be more profitable, and less work. Just a thought.”

“Shut up. I’m great at stabbing people.”

“Yeah, but then after a while we have to move because people get annoyed at that, and it’s getting a little annoying to have to pack up all the time.”

“We’d have to move anyway. We’re wanted criminals, remember?”

“We could be wanted criminals with a house. Besides, wouldn’t you like to be called Teacher Xue?”

“What? No. Gross.”

-

“So you see, it turns out that they were teaching demonic cultivation in a safe and organized fashion,” Xiao Xingchen explained enthusiastically. “They’d even gathered up their own little sect! And of course everyone heard what the Chang clan did, so there’s no need to worry about them going around and murdering people at random – it was a targeted revenge scheme.”

“We’re working on teaching them regular cultivation,” Song Lan agreed, nodding. “To help mitigate the negative effects of demonic cultivation…well, we started out by just teaching them.”

“It turned out that they’d been secretly teaching all of the local delinquents, too, or at least Mo-gongzi had been teaching a few and Mistress Qing was teaching a few others, and even Sect Leader Xue had a few disciples,” Xiao Xingchen said, politely omitting or possibly having not noticed the fact that Mo Xuanyu had been teaching his ‘friends’ (read: scammers trying to take advantage of him), while A-Qing and Xue Yang had each been trying to form competing gangs and/or obtain lackeys. Xue Yang didn’t mind the oversight, largely on account of the fact that A-Qing had been winning, damn her – he’d kept getting distracted by inventing new things. “And a few of them had real talent – and you know that Zichen and I have always wanted to start a sect of our own, with no bloodline ties –”

“We’re joining their sect,” Song Lan said. “We’ll be leading the orthodox side, while they lead the demonic cultivation aspect – safely, of course.”

“I guess it’s better than them being crazy,” Jiang Cheng said. He sounded dubious. “I don’t like it, but at least all the demonic cultivators can be in one spot, you know?”

He made it sound like they’d be dropping off new ones there in the future.

Like they’d opened up some sort of pet rescue and were taking in unwanted puppies or something.

“Agreed,” Nie Mingjue said. “To the extent that they aren’t causing active harm, containment seems an appropriate remedy here. Who seconds the motion?”

“I do,” Lan Xichen said, and smiled at the newly agreed-upon sect. “Welcome back to the cultivation world, Sect Leader Xue.”

-

“I don’t want to know,” Jin Guangyao said, glaring.

“Don’t worry,” Xue Yang told him. “This comes as much of a shock to me as to you.”

The glare intensified, but that was fine. Jin Guangyao’s facial expressions, however minor and generally overlooked, had been the only thing getting him through that awful, awful meeting just now where people kept trying to salute him and make him salute back and if he didn’t then he was letting down Mo Xuanyu (who would send him a sad look) and A-Qing (who would hear about it from Mo Xuanyu later and then find a way to step on his foot right when he was concentrating on something).

Not to mention their two new resident lovebirds, who looked so righteous and proper from the outside but who also may or may not have accidentally full-on actually resurrected some dead asshole cultivator more or less the first time they’d joined Xue Yang in his demonic cultivation laboratory – which would have been fine, you know, that happened in demonic cultivation though not normally to quite such a wow-is-he-actually-alive extent, except that the guy’s intermittent moments of clarity suggested that his two new sect members might have just brought back the Yiling Patriarch himself, which was going to make all of them wanted criminal again the second anyone found out about it.

Ugh.

Being called sect leader was completely not worth this shit.

Xue Yang comforted himself with the reminder that later today he was planning on publicly introducing Jin Guangyao to the Xue sect’s head junior disciple “Xue Song” and announcing loudly that the brat needed some lessons in manners, that he’d heard that that was Lianfeng-zun’s specialty, and nominating him to take care of the kid while they were visiting.

See how the fucker liked that.

“I always knew Xue-gege could do great things!” Mo Xuanyu said, clapping his hands as A-Qing rolled her (by now, Xue Yang was almost definitely sure not actually blind) eyes behind his back. “As long as I went with him!”

[the--balladeer]

“hah, barely two words in… and you already look like you want me dead. ”

➥this blog is AU Friendly, feel free to come up with things and share them here

➥this blog can, and most certainly will, include violence, torture, mentions of blood and injuries and talks about trauma

➥want comfort? Sure thing! That can be made

➥this blog is made out of the things we have about scaramouche, so things will improve and grow better as we get more things come out about him, this is just the admin’s interpretation of him

➥THIS BLOG ISN’T SPOILER FREE!

➦Blog rules

➥NSFW asks are allowed, but state at the top that it is NSFW

➥make sure to put trigger warnings at the top and state the triggering things

➥anti-lgbtqia+ , racism, Islamophobia, p3d0ph1l1ia and such WILL NOT be tolerated at all.

➥please do not send hate towards the admin, she’ll cry

➦About scaramouche below the cut

➩Name(s);

Scaramouche;

-Scaramouche (French: [skaʁamuʃ]) or Scaramouch (English: /ˈskærəmuː(t)ʃ, -maʊtʃ/; from Italian Scaramuccia [skaraˈmuttʃa], literally “little skirmisher”) is a stock clown character of the 16th-century commedia dell'arte (comic theatrical arts of Italian literature). The role combined characteristics of the Zanni (servant) and the Capitano (masked henchman), with some assortment of villainous traits. Usually attired in black Spanish dress and burlesquing a Don, he was often beaten by Harlequin for his boasting and cowardice.¹

The balladeer;

-A singer of ballads.

Kunikuzushi;

-country destroyer.

➩Personality;

Scaramouche is an arrogant and overly confident man that is quick to get angry and lash out because of it, he isn’t well-liked by his fellow fatui members because of such.

He presents himself as someone that is friendly and helpful at first, wanting to deceive those around him and luring them into a false sense of security before stabbing them in the back.

He isn’t above yelling and disrespecting people below him, often times talking down to them and making it known that he is above them and that they don’t matter.

However, while it may not be expected, he is rather sensitive deep down inside. He is known for crying in his sleep and having horrific nightmares. He has a soft spot for kids and elderly.

➩story;

Scaramouche was originally created by Ei as a test into the technology of making puppet bodies. He was not meant to perfectly resemble her, only to test if creating a puppet body was possible. As his creation was successful, he was considered the prototype for the puppet she now uses as the Raiden Shogun. While he was intended to serve as a vessel for Ei's Gnosis, he shed tears upon his creation, leading her to deem him too gentle for such a task. She did not wish to kill him, so she instead sealed his power as a divine creation and allowed him to take control of his own life. He spent his early days in Shakkei Pavilion.

For a time, Scaramouche settled in Tatarasuna after Inspector Mikoshi Nagamasa’s yoriki, Katsuragi, found him in the pavilion. Nagamasa’s group referred to him as the “wandering eccentric,” as he had no name at the time. Scaramouche grew close with Katsuragi and, after the forging of the Daitatara Nagamasa, performed a sword dance with him. Sometime later, for reasons unknown, the group pursued Scaramouche but was unable to find him. After learning of Katsuragi’s “misconduct,” which was likely related to the reason they were searching for Scaramouche, Nagamasa flew into a rage and slew Katsuragi. This divided the group, who believed Nagamasa was too obsessed with purity to understand Katsuragi’s good intentions. Nagamasa and Scaramouche would later clash, with Nagamasa’s fate afterwards left unknown. Scaramouche also took on the name “Kunikuzushi.”

Kunikuzushi eventually chanced upon a group of Fatui. Deciding they were interesting, he joined their ranks, wherein they unlocked the innate power he had as a creation of an Archon. The Fatui also gave him some additional modifications, and eventually, he climbed to the position of The Balladeer, the Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers.It is unclear whether this occurred before or during the Case of the Eccentric, which Kunikuzushi masterminded and the Fatui assisted in.²

➩date of birth;

**/**/****

➩sources;

1:https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scaramouche

“ahahaha~ you’ve changed. You’re getting weak. ”

2:https://genshin-impact.fandom.com/wiki/Scaramouche

Admin’s note:Thank you for reading, dear, can’t wait to see you all in the inbox~

Admin’s main blog:@ana-darkcloud

[morganaspendragonss]

holly's august extravaganza day 26: slowly becoming lovers

for sonia (@pragmaticoptimist34)! i have to confess something - i got so caught up in writing this that i actually forgot to include either of the other two prompts you sent me 🙈 i hope you like it anyway!

second confession - it was supposed to be longer and then it kind of got away from me so i had to draw a line somewhere oops

thanks to @ravens-words, @cosmiicmalex, @halsteadmarchs and liz (sorry, i don't know your tumblr!) for enabling me and to @noxsoulmate for beta'ing!

ao3 | 2.9k | falling in love, fluff, tiny, tiny hint of hurt/comfort, soft tarlos, set between s1 and s2

Things don’t get fixed overnight. They agree to give them a shot, but that doesn’t change the fact that TK is still reeling from his break-up and overdose, nor that Carlos is still hesitant and afraid of pushing too hard at once.

But, slowly, they get to know each other. And, slowly, they start to fall in love.

i. food preferences

“You have to be joking.”

“It tastes like soap, Carlos!”

Carlos groans and drops his head into his hands, shaking his head at this latest revelation from his boyfriend. His boyfriend, who has just made his life—or at least his cooking—a hell of a lot more complicated. “My mamá would have a fit if she could hear you now.”

He almost regrets the words as TK’s eyes alight with interest; he’s been dancing around the topic of his parents for a while now, but it’s not like he can deny what he said. His mom would be having a fit, or possibly attempting to kill TK with a wooden spoon, if she found out that Carlos’s boyfriend was not only a gringo, but one who hates coriander.

“I swear, you won’t even taste it when it’s mixed into the food,” he tries, because coriander is a staple of his cooking, and he can’t even fathom not using it.

But TK just levels him with a firm look. “Yes, I will, Carlos. I’ll always taste it.”

Carlos rolls his eyes at his boyfriend’s theatrics, but sighs, relenting. “Fine. I suppose I can—” He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, as TK throws his arms around him and plants a noisy kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks, babe,” he says, grinning cheekily.

“Yeah, yeah,” Carlos grumbles, but he can’t help but smile.

There’s very little, he’s finding, that he wouldn’t do for TK.

ii. nicknames

It slips out by accident one day.

“TK,” Carlos groans, followed by a gasp as TK moves just right, sending sparks of pleasure down his spine. “TK, Ty—”

TK instantly freezes on top of him and Carlos’s eyes open, concern rising in him as he takes in the pensive look on his boyfriend’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…” TK shakes his head and forces a smile. “It’s nothing. I’m good, I promise.” He ducks down to kiss Carlos again, but the mood is all wrong, and Carlos gently pushes him back, raising an eyebrow. TK holds out a moment longer, then sighs and rolls away, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s stupid.”

Carlos tuts, reaching over to brush a hand through TK’s hair. “Bet you $20 it’s not.”

“Hope you have $20 then, Reyes,” TK says wryly. He looks over at Carlos and sighs again, biting his lip. “It’s just… You called me Ty.”

“Oh.” Carlos’s eyes widen and he props himself up on an elbow. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking; it won’t happen again—”

TK presses a finger against his lips, cutting him off abruptly. He smiles softly, then removes his finger and caresses Carlos’s cheek. “It’s okay,” he says. “More than okay, actually. I… I’ve always hated my name, but, I don’t know, I guess it sounded right? Like, when you said it? I think I’d kill anyone else who tried, but I really liked it coming from you.”

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that because—”

Carlos is again cut off, this time by TK’s lips on his. TK moves so that he’s straddling Carlos again, hands pressed against his chest. “I’m sure,” he whispers, a grin playing at his mouth. “Now, weren’t we in the middle of something?”

iii. religion

Christmas sneaks up on him that year. Between helping the city recovering from the solar storm, work in general, the pandemic, and building his relationship with TK, Carlos has completely lost track of the months, until it’s a week before the date and he has nothing planned.

Really, it’s never been a big deal for him; he and his family used to attend mass and make an event out of it when he was a kid, but now he’s an adult, he’s often working, and he hasn’t been to church regularly since he was a teenager. But this year is different. This year, he’ll be spending it with TK, their first Christmas together, and he wants to make it special.

But he’s left it too late—nothing he orders online will arrive in time, the shops are becoming a nightmare, and he honestly has no clue where to even start. So Carlos resigns himself to another quiet Christmas, frustration and disappointment welling in him at the thought of telling his boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out one night over dinner, the thought having been gnawing at him for days.

TK raises a brow. “For?”

“Christmas,” Carlos sighs, looking down into his stew. “It’s our first one together and I had all these plans, and then I just sort of… I didn’t forget! But things have been so crazy, and—”

He’s cut off when TK lays a hand on his. When Carlos looks up at him, TK seems to be fighting back laughter, which is confusing at best and potentially mildly insulting at worst.

“Babe,” TK says, grinning, “it’s okay. You might not believe me, but I forgot too. Christmas wasn’t really a thing growing up—my mom’s Jewish, so I used to celebrate Hanukkah on the years I stayed with her, and Dad was working more often than not. I don’t care, I promise.”

Carlos blinks. “You’re Jewish?” Surely he would know if… But they’ve never discussed religion before, and Carlos had kind of assumed TK had the same ideals as him about the church. In hindsight that was stupid and presumptuous, and Carlos can’t quite believe he’d do something like that. An apology is on the tip of his tongue, but TK just shrugs, going back to his stew.

“Half,” he says. “I don’t really practice anymore but I still keep the beliefs with me, if that makes sense?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

TK smiles at him, and Carlos suddenly realises that this holiday season will be special after all, even if they don’t celebrate anything. Because he’s with TK, which is the most special thing in the world.

iv. how they sleep

Carlos has been sleeping alone for a long time. He’s had a couple of short-term boyfriends and the odd hook-up here and there, but he’s never had someone else in his bed regularly—certainly not regularly enough to get used to it.

TK was hesitant at first to stay over, but once he started to be more comfortable, it was almost a given that they’d be sleeping together whenever their shifts allowed.

And it had been an adjustment.

TK had warned him he tended to move around and be clingy in his sleep, but Carlos hadn’t quite understood what that meant, until now. He is, essentially, trapped under TK, his arms pinned to his sides and one leg thrown over his hip. TK’s head is pillowed on Carlos’s shoulder and his breath is fanning in soft puffs over his skin.

The only way he can move is if he wakes TK up, and there’s no way Carlos is going to do that. His boyfriend looks so peaceful, and Carlos is more than happy to be clung onto like a koala to a branch if it keeps that expression on his face.

In fact, he thinks he can get used to this very easily.

v. pda

In private, their days are filled with gentle touches and stolen kisses. Carlos will be cooking breakfast and TK will slip his arms around him, kissing the back of his neck. TK will be doing one chore or another and Carlos will brush a hand over his back or gently nudge him as he walks past.

But in public, it’s a whole other story.

It’s almost reflexive, the way TK reaches for Carlos’s hand as they’re walking down the street. It’s something they do all the time at home, and even with their friends, but this time, Carlos immediately tenses, seemingly automatically pulling his hand away.

“You okay?” he asks, frowning.

Carlos takes a deep breath, then obviously plasters on a smile, retaking TK’s hand—and TK can feel the tension in the gesture. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” TK gently lets go of Carlos and smiles reassuringly up at him. “It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with touching in public.”

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. This is all on me; I should have asked.”

“But—”

“But, nothing.” He carefully bumps their soldiers together. “You’re entitled to your boundaries, I’m just sorry for overstepping. Tell me next time, please?”

Carlos hesitates, but nods, a gentle press of their arms a silent acknowledgment of agreement and understanding.

vi. scars

Carlos, TK has noticed, likes to pay extra attention to his bullet scar. Whether it’s pressing a gentle kiss over it when they’re in bed, or brushing it with his fingers when wrapping an arm around him, it happens too often for TK to believe it’s anything but intentional.

He doesn’t understand it at first.

Then he discovers Carlos’s own scars.

“What’s this?” he asks, tracing over the thick raised scarring on Carlos’s side. It stretches along the curve of his waist and round his back, and TK has no idea how he hasn’t noticed it before.

Carlos cranes his neck, letting out a hum when he sees what TK’s looking at. His head flops back down on the pillow and he closes his eyes, absently stroking up and down TK’s sides.

“It was...three years ago, maybe?” he says. “I got stabbed on a call. They told me it was pretty touch-and-go for a while, but they fixed me up and I was back at work in a month.”

His eyes are still closed, body completely relaxed, but TK can’t take his eyes off the scar. He reaches up to his own scar, and he gets it.

Carlos’s eyes crack open. “TK?”

“I’m good,” TK murmurs. He breaks his gaze from Carlos’s abdomen and smiles at him. “We both are.”

And if, after that day, Carlos notices him paying more attention to that scar, he doesn’t say anything.

vii. penguin or panda

“You’re out of your mind!”

In Carlos’s defence, a zoo date had seemed like a good idea. He knows TK loves animals, and he himself grew up around them, so in theory, a trip to Austin Zoo should have been the perfect time to get to know each other better while enjoying the day.

Turns out, TK has some very strong opinions on animals, and is willing to budge for absolutely no-one.

“I can’t believe you think penguins are cuter than pandas! I mean, look at them, Carlos!” He gestures emphatically to the panda enclosure, where one is napping on a log. It’s pretty cute, Carlos has to admit, but…

He shrugs. “But remember when the penguins were all huddling together?”

TK makes a noise of outrage, and Carlos has to laugh, then some more at the wounded pout he gets for it. “Is this really a thing for you?” he asks. “Like, is this going to be the dealbreaker for us?”

TK folds his arms and levels him with a stern look. “That depends,” he says. “Meerkats or koalas?”

And, just because he knows it will rile TK up more, Carlos grins and answers, “Meerkats.”

(They don’t break-up over it, but Carlos isn’t so sure that TK will be forgiving him any time soon.)

viii. special interests

“Say you could go back to a moment in history, but only once,” TK says, out of the blue, breaking the comfortable silence of the front room. Carlos stops carding his fingers through TK’s hair and looks down at him, curious. “Where would you go?”

Carlos opens his mouth, but TK doesn’t give him a second to answer. “Is it cliché if I said I’d go to Stonewall? I mean, I’d really like to see dinosaurs in the flesh, or—oh! I was, like, obsessed with pirates as a kid; I thought they were the coolest things ever, and I pretty much idolised Anne Bonny. But I’m pretty sure I’d die immediately if I went to either of those places, so…”

He trails off, a blush rising on his cheeks. “Sorry, I’m boring you.”

“No!” Carlos rushes to say. “No, you’re not. I love history, I just… What makes you ask?”

“It’s something we got into at the station earlier. Mateo brought it up first, I think?”

Carlos hums, pursing his lips in thought. “I guess…” He sighs and shakes his head. “It’s too hard. There’s so many places I’d want to go and people I’d want to meet.”

“But if you had to pick?” TK pushes, sitting upright and looking at Carlos with interest.

“I really want to meet Eleanor of Aquitaine, but if I could only go to one place…” He hesitates and thinks it over some more, but then his eyes catch on the masks hanging along the stairway, and he’s sure. “Tenochtitlan, but before Cortés arrived. It was a whole society, and I just think it would be so cool to see it up close and to know what it was like first-hand. I mean, I’ve read a lot of books, but we don’t have much from the Mexica people, a lot is from the conquerors, and—”

Carlos stops and huffs a laugh. “Now I’m the one boring you,” he says, but TK shakes his head, eyes bright.

“Tell me more.”

ix. coffee order

TK accepts the coffee without even thinking about it, even taking a sip before he realises he never told Carlos what his order was. He curses himself but resolves to drink it anyway; TK isn’t too much of a coffee snob, and he’s certainly not going to reject anything his boyfriend brings him.

He takes a second sip, and he’s so caught up in making a mental note to tell Carlos next time that it takes a minute for the taste to register. And…

It’s his order.

He looks sharply up at Carlos, who is smiling into his own coffee—therefore dispelling any notion of this being an insanely good guess. “How did you know?” he asks, bewildered.

The tips of Carlos’s ears turn pink, but the smile doesn’t leave his face as he looks up at TK. “Our first real date,” he says. “You mentioned that this was your go-to order.”

And TK can’t do anything but stare, because their first date was weeks ago, and Carlos still remembered, and it’s just…

He thinks—no, he knows—he’s falling in love.

x. fears

“Weirdest fears, go.”

TK has to laugh at the perplexed look Carlos sends him at the question, the straw of his boba hanging out of his mouth. Now that they’ve figured a sort of rhythm out between them, they decided to try the boba place again—there have been no emergencies or disasters so far, so TK is counting it as a win.

“Come on,” he continues. “Last time we were here, you said we barely knew each other��which was true—so now we’re going to fix it.”

Carlos’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “By telling each other our weirdest fears?”

“Exactly!” TK grins. “I’ll go first if you’re too chicken. Mine is slicing my hands open or cutting some fingers off with ice skates.”

“What?” Carlos breathes, disbelief all over his face. “I’ve never been ice skating but I’m pretty sure your hands aren’t supposed to go anywhere near the blades.”

“I didn’t say it was rational.” TK sips his boba, raising an eyebrow at Carlos. “Your turn.”

Carlos swallows, suddenly very interested in the table. “I, uh. When I was a kid, my Tía Lucy had a snake get into her pipes. She only discovered it when she went to the toilet one morning and it was just...sitting there in the bowl. I was terrified for years that the same would happen to us, and it’s kind of become a reflex to check.”

“Oh my god.” TK can’t help but burst out laughing, even though he feels bad for it as Carlos covers his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a real thing for you, I just…”

But Carlos’s shoulders are shaking too and, bizarrely, TK really does feel closer to him now.

It’s a good feeling.

xi. long-term commitments

Carlos is surprised when TK is the one to bring it up first.

“Do you ever think about the future?” he asks one day, head in Carlos’s lap, staring up at the ceiling.

Carlos pauses the show he’s technically supposed to be watching and quirks an eyebrow at his boyfriend. “Sure,” he says. “What about the future exactly?”

TK hesitates, and his voice comes out a lot quieter when he next speaks. “Like…” He sighs, a small flush rising on his cheeks. “The future. Our future. Us. Maybe...marriage, or…”

He trails off, practically whispering by the end of it. His gaze has shifted from the ceiling to the frozen TV screen and he’s chewing on his bottom lip, body stiff with tension. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Forget about it.”

But Carlos is learning to read TK, and he knows he was looking for reassurance. “I mean, yeah,” he says. “I think about it. Do you?”

TK stares up at him, wonder in his eyes. “After New York, I thought… But yeah. Yeah, I do.”

They share a smile as they lock eyes, and Carlos knows that they’re on the same page here. That, distant though they may be, both of them can hear wedding bells in their future.

[honeybeezx]

Armor - Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand - Part 4

Author’s Note: Sorry I’m getting this out so late, but It’s time for our girl Ellaria! I love her so much, but I don’t feel super confident with writing her. It might take me a while to find her voice, be patient with me guys lol. Anyways, hope you enjoy and as always, feedback is welcome!

Word Count: 4.0k

Warnings: crude language, mentions of sex

At this point, you weren’t even shooting to challenge or better yourself. You hit every target without fail, you weren’t even paying attention as you did so. Shooting helped you think, allowing you time to process your thoughts, you had a hard time doing so while being still. Well...sometimes it was hard sitting still in general.

“I always feel sorry for the unfortunate man that crosses one of your arrows.” Tyrion’s voice rang from behind you. You turned and gave a small smile before walking away a bit to retrieve said arrows.

“I’m surprised no one here has crossed them yet.” You joked, forcefully taking out the arrows from their targets and gathering them into your sling. “Was there something you needed?”

“Yes.” He replied, but still seemed hesitant to tell you.

“Tyrion?” You asked warily.

“You’re not going to like it. Oberyn is here again, but this time he brings his paramour, the Sand woman. But she insists on leaving the prince and I to our devices. However...Oberyn does not feel comfortable having her roam the palace alone. He asked if you might be able to accompany her?”

Bull fucking shit.

You were not stupid. Ellaria seemed like a capable woman who could more than defend herself. No, this was too deliberate, too planned. Ellaria wanted to get you alone. How convenient that she didn’t want to step on Oberyn and Tyrion’s toes when she was nearly attached to Oberyn at the hip the last time you saw the two of them together.

“I was paid to guard you, not the prince’s paramour.” You grumbled, but truthfully? After your talk with Oberyn, you were curious about the captivating Ellaria Sand. Equally as beautiful as her lover, and equally as passionate. If anything, you may be able to learn a bit more information about the guests from Dorne, and even more so, how to convince the prince not to kill the Lannisters.

“Fine. But next time Bronn gets babysitting duty.” You huffed. If you made it easy for Tyrion he might get suspicious.

It wasn’t as if you thought the prince’s lover was incredibly beautiful.

No, he wouldn’t guess that.

Right?

“They both asked for you specifically, but I will try to convince them next time.” Tyrion said, almost as a joke. “Tell me, why are they so taken with you? First Oberyn visits the palace only to converse with you, next Ellaria asks for you to keep her company.” Tyrion eyed you suspiciously. He was far too clever for his own good, and while it amused you most of the time, it was also extremely annoying.

“Now, are you going to tell me what really happened in that brothel?”

You punched Tyrion hard in the arm.

“Ow!!! You just punched me!! How dare you!! I ought to arrest you for treason!” Tyrion whined dramatically, but none of his words scared you.

“I didn’t sleep with either of them if that’s what you’re implying, you fucking bastard.” You spat. Tyrion often teased you, but this was a new low for him. “What I told you was true, I did as I was told.”

Tyrion was still holding his arm and wincing as he processed your words. “Oh come now, you must have done something for them to like you so much. Even I didn’t like you the first time I met you.” He teased.

“Fuck off.” You grumbled, holding back your urge to shove him. You knew Tyrion and you knew he would find out one way or another. And if he and Oberyn were going to meet today, Tyrion was sure to ask him about it. You’d rather tell him yourself than have him hear it from Oberyn. Only the gods knew what sort of version he’d give. “I gave them the girls, but they just weren’t as interested in them. They were...They were interested in me.” You tried to say as nonchalantly as you could, trying to keep your voice steady.

To say Tyrion was shocked was an understatement. “Really?” He asked, clearly amused.

This was not going to go well for you.

“And what did you say to that? A handsome prince and his beautiful woman want to fuck you, and you just said no?”

You punched him in the arm again, causing him to wince once more. “You she-devil! Will you please stop hitting me, you vile, terrifyingly strong woman!”

“Stop making jokes about this!! This is serious Tyrion!! They insulted me. I am a skilled assassin, known throughout Westeros and all they wanted to do was fuck me, thought I was another girl for purchase. And to make matters worse, I don’t think their feelings have changed on the matter.” You huffed, plopping down into the grass. You knew you would have to get back up soon, both of you couldn’t leave the Dornish waiting, but you wanted nothing more than to lie there forever and forget your troubles.

Tyrion softened and pulled you up into a sitting position to look at him as he sat across from you. “Is that why Oberyn visited you yesterday?”

You sighed but nodded. “We...have a better understanding now. They know why I was angry and they are smart enough to not press it any further, but they don’t hide their desire. I’m watching both him and Ellaria. I still don’t trust them. I think they want to use me to get to you and the rest of your family. It won’t work.” You promised confidently. Even Oberyn’s pretty words could not break you, and you planned on keeping it that way.

Tyrion looked sad and you could not, for the life of you, understand why. Surely keeping your guard was a good thing? Surely the fact that you were starting to get a hold of this little game was something he should be proud of. So why did he look so remorseful?

“We better get going. Don’t want Oberyn stabbing another Lannister while he waits for us.” Tyrion joked half-heartedly.

You eyed him suspiciously. He knew that you knew something was up with him, but he wasn’t going to relent. You decided to drop it. After all, you were keeping royalty waiting.

But before you could re-enter the palace, Tyrion grabbed your wrist. Your head snapped back to him at the sudden gesture. “Don’t let them in too much, but don’t dismiss them as an ally. They may be useful to us...and you need friends.”

This sort of sentiment didn’t suit either of you, but especially not Tyrion. You were confused by his words. “I have friends. I have Bronn, and Shae, and-“

“That’s different.” Tyrion cut off. “I hired you and we all became friends in the process. These people may want to befriend you just because they like you. I’m not telling you to bare your heart to them, I’m telling you to be open-minded.” He clarified. You weren’t used to seeing Tyrion so...serious, at least in this regard. He let go of your wrist and composed himself as if nothing happened.

You didn’t really know what to say to all of that, so you did the same and followed behind Tyrion into the palace.

“Prince Oberyn, Lady Ellaria, welcome to King’s Landing.” Tyrion smiled softly before giving a small bow.

The Dornish returned the favor. Both of them were once again adorned in the colors of their homeland. Warm tones of yellows, golds, and oranges draping loosely against their toned frames.

But when their heads came up from the small bow, both pairs of eyes settled on you.

“It is good to see you again, little hawk.” Ellaria cooed.

If her voice wasn’t so soft you might have been angry. You were not little.

“The pleasure is all mine, my lady.” You replied with ease, keeping your cool.

“As much as I would love to enjoy your company once more, I’m afraid Lord Tyrion and I have business to discuss.” Oberyn said sadly, but gave you a small smile anyways.

“Keep Lady Ellaria company. Shouldn’t be long.” Tyrion instructed, but his eyes still bore into yours. Remember what I said.

“Give me a tour?” Ellaria brought you back to the present, her mischievous eyes dancing over you. You had a feeling this was not just going to be a tour.

“Of course, Lady Ellaria.”

The Dornish woman cackled with laughter, as if to prove a point. “I am no lady. Ellaria is fine. I am not wed to Oberyn, therefore I have no royal status”

You quirked an eyebrow at her response. “Not married? But you two are so...close.” And the fact that they stayed together when they both preferred having several lovers was certainly saying something as well.

“We are wed in everything except name.” Ellaria explained. Oddly enough, it made sense. Dedicated to each other, but also able to seek pleasure with others. They could be attracted to several people, but love was another matter entirely. It went deeper than just fucking around. They were each other’s person.

You tried not to think about how easily you understood that.

“Oberyn is the love of my life. I love him, and he loves me, completely. There are no barriers with us. We take what gives us pleasure as long as it benefits both of us.” Ellaria smiled to herself. It was easy to see how much she loved him and vice versa.

What an incredible thing to know someone so completely.

“However,” she began, “Life in our homeland calls to us. Oberyn and I wish to see more of our children. We have seen enough of Westeros to last us a lifetime. We want to...settle down, to only leave Dorne on matters of business.” Ellaria explained. It seemed hard to imagine the two living a domestic life. They were so bold and free, and they possessed the power to go anywhere, do anything.

But you remembered your talk with Oberyn and about his eight daughters. So much was uncertain about the prince, but his love for his family was unquestionable. He was willing to kill Tywin Lannister, the most powerful man in all of Westeros because he believed him to be involved with his sister's murder. No one could fake that level of love and dedication. If you loved someone that much, you imagined you’d stay in one place for them too.

“Oberyn and I still love each other, very much, but we sometimes wonder if there is one another person who may join us. Someone more constant. Oberyn and I have been with each other for so long. To know someone else as well as we know each other could make things interesting.”

You really didn’t like that she was staring at you so intently.

Or maybe you did, and that was the problem.

“There are many people who I’m sure would be honored to receive the affections of Dornish royalty.” You replied easily, trying to draw the attention away from you.

“Not so many as we might have thought.” Ellaria teased before linking her arm with yours. How she had managed to do that so easily was beyond you. You looked around and were relieved to see that no one was around, but you were still on guard. Spies were everywhere in this palace. But when you thought about it, there was no way the queen could use this against you. She may tease you about it, sure, but she could not hurt Ellaria and start a war just because she didn’t like you.

So while you hated feeling your heart in your chest...this was safe.

“Don’t look so frightened.” Ellaria chided. “You are simply escorting me, yes?”

You eyed her disbelievingly. That was not all that was going on here, and you couldn't help but notice her choice of words. “I think we have different ideas on what makes a person an escort.”

Ellaria hummed and smirked. “Very different ideas.” She flirted.

You narrowed your eyes in warning and she got the hint...sort of. “I like a person in armor. Oberyn has dashing leather brown armor, but I very seldom see women with such attire, a shame really. It’s flattering in a different sort of way.”

You rolled your eyes. “My armor is not for appearances. It keeps me safe.”

“Safe and beautiful can coexist.” She smirked. “I know it was not your intention for the armor to be beautiful, but it is.” Ellaria used her other hand to trace the ornate design. There wasn’t much additional detail, just your crest, an arrow intertwined with a feather on your shoulder pieces. It was subtle enough for someone to notice at such close proximity, but otherwise, the crest was for you and no one else. You didn’t need people to know your crest, you kept it as a reminder of who you were.

“Your armor is a piece of you. I don’t pretend to understand what it is to be you, but I do understand what it is to be a woman. Not many women can say they are feared warriors or assassins, you’ve earned the stories they say about you, you’ve earned your reputation. You have every reason to wear it with pride.” Ellaria smiled at you before...seven hells was she cuddling into your arm????

You were glad Tyrion and Bronn were nowhere in sight.

But as quickly as she did it, she resumed her previous position, simply perched on your arm, as if nothing had happened.

“And it suits you because it does not hide your pretty face.”

You were sure the compliment was only meant to make you more flustered. “If you wish to catch me off guard, Ellaria, you will have to try much harder than that.” You snipped.

The striking woman chuckled and her laugh, her true laugh, was the sweetest noise in all the realms. Joy and life were in that laugh. Warmth. That was the feeling. You almost didn’t recognize it. It had been so long since you had felt anything close to it. It settled in your chest and forced you just...feel.

And you couldn’t run away from it, not with her arm locked around yours. You wondered if that had been her game all along.

“Do not tempt me, Silver Hawk. You forget that I stood before you in a brothel. I could very easily arrange for you to meet us there again.”

“No.” You replied before you could even stop yourself. Your mind reeled, trying to recover, to say anything that could give you at least some of your dignity back. “I only go where Tyrion tells me to. Otherwise, I am at his side or within reach.”

“And what if I ask Tyrion to just...have you visit a while?” She teased.

You rolled your eyes.

“Then I will acquiesce, but that doesn’t mean I have to do what you tell me.”

“Hmmm...We’ll just have to convince you then.”

You snorted. “It would be amusing to see you both try. I am paid to assist Tyrion, but even then some of his demands do not go without question. If I truly didn’t want to do something he asked of me there is not a man alive who could make me do it.”

Ellaria’s eyes darkened as she looked at you.

You didn’t know it, but she could have taken you right there on the palace floor.

“You are a fearsome thing to behold, do you know that?” Ellaria laughed. “Believe me when I say I would not do anything to push you away, not when I am enjoying your company so much. I believe my prince spoke to you of friendship, yes?”

“He did indeed.”

“That is what we both want. But at least let me compliment you. A pretty face as yours deserves at least that.” Ellaria grinned.

You sighed, but her deep brown eyes were impossible to deny.

“Only when we’re alone. I don’t need Tyrion or Bronn giving me any trouble over it.” You grumbled.

“Deal.” Ellaria agreed.

“Ellaria.” A familiar voice called from behind you. On instinct you pulled away from her, even though you were sure the Dornish prince did not mind. What you were worried about was the hand of the king that trailed behind him. You hoped he hadn’t seen you with Ellaria draped all over you.

“My prince.” Ellaria greeted, returning to her favorite place, at her lover’s side. “She is nice company when she’s not so defensive.”

“You should see her when she’s drunk.” Tyrion chipped in. “That’s the only time she seems to like me.”

Somehow you managed to glare at both of them.

“Oh stop now, just a bit of fun. The prince and I were actually just speaking fondly of you.” Tyrion had that familiar, mischievous glint in his eye that made your heart palpitate faster in your chest.

“Oh really?” You were not amused. Now the prince was the object of your glares. What did he tell Tyrion? Did he betray you? Tyrion knew the prince and his lover were enamored with you, but Oberyn didn’t know that Tyrion knew. Not to mention you told Tyrion nothing about your little threats you gave upon meeting them both. If he told Tyrion, you would never hear the end of it, and you would be even more on guard around the prince than you usually were.

“We were discussing the idea of a tournament.” Tyrion proposed. “The king is fond of...violent delights and your skill with a bow would most certainly amuse him. I made a bet against the prince here that you would beat any challenger.”

“I intend on losing.” Oberyn laughed. “That is why I did not bet a lot.”

“Still,” Tyrion smirked, “I would very much like to be in possession of more money that I have to do nothing for, so I was wondering if you could help me.”

How Tyrion thought he would be able to convince you so easily and propose this idea for his own benefit was beyond you.

“And what do I get from this?” You weren't one for showing off your skill. There was some sort of advantage to people underestimating you, you could always take them by surprise. But by now your reputation probably ruined any chance of surprising anyone. Not to mention you could change your mind if money or something of value were involved.

“The adoration of the king, the hand of the king, and the high society of Westeros.”

You snorted. “Forget it.”

“Fine! You can have the winnings too.” Tyrion huffed. “You rob me of my own winnings from my own bet. You wound me, my dear.”

“You’ll get over it.”

Both Oberyn and Ellaria laughed.

“Do you two always act like this?” Ellaria asked.

“Unfortunately her skill comes with a mouth and an attitude. She sometimes succeeds in making me question if that is worth the protection she provides.”

“If my protection wasn’t worth it, I would still be in the North right now.”

“Hmmm...yes sometimes I wish you still were.”

You gave Tyrion a playful nudge. “Don’t listen to him. He’d miss me.”

“I can tell.” Oberyn grinned. For a second you forgot all about keeping your guard up around the Dornish visitors. Tyrion always brought that out of you, the real, unguarded version of you. You supposed you could allow yourself some fun, just this once.

“This is so exciting! I’ve been dying to see the Silver Hawk in action.” Ellaria grinned something mischievous. In any other circumstance, it might have made you nervous, but the chance to actually get some shooting in was actually exciting.

Definitely didn’t have anything to do with showing off in front of Oberyn and Ellaria.

Definitely not.

“I hope to live up to your expectations, Ellaria.” You smiled, just a little.

“I’m sure you will exceed them.” She winked

Tyrion glanced between you and the Dornish. “It seems like she already has.”

If looks could kill, Tyrion would have dropped dead under the heat of your glare.

“She has been more than obligating in making us feel welcome here.” Your eyes widened at Oberyn, but you quickly concealed your shock. He hadn’t told Tyrion about your threats and less than warm welcome. But why? Why would he lose the opportunity to get back at you for insulting a prince, a prince who was an honored guest nonetheless? “You have a very loyal friend at your side, Lord Tyrion. You’re very lucky to have such friendship.”

Neither you nor Tyrion knew what to say to that. At least for a moment. Tyrion eventually had a response to everything.

“I choose my friends and allies well.”

No one could deny the double meaning in that. It was an offer to them more than it was a compliment to you.

“You do indeed.” Oberyn agreed.

Two more pieces to Tyrion’s game.

“You both are welcome to peruse the palace as you please, though I’m afraid I must steal away our Hawk. Please make yourselves welcome and do not hesitate to bother any of the servants should you need something.” Tyrion offered respectfully, ever the host to his new allies.

“Your hospitality is most appreciated, Lord Tyrion.” Both men have a small, respectful bow.

“We hope to see you soon.” Oberyn once again kissed your knuckles softly.

Tyrion had to do everything not to chuckle. That didn’t stop a stupid grin from forming on his face.

When the couple was out of earshot, you pointed a finger at Tyrion. “If I hear a single word about any of that I will be using you as target practice for the tournament.” You huffed.

Tyrion smirked. "Come now, my dear, having two incredibly attractive people want you like cats in heat is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about."

You huffed and stormed away. If Tyrion actually did need you, you would punish him by making him wait until tomorrow for whatever it was.

Curse them. Curse them with their stupid charm, their incessant flirtations, their dumb, pretty faces, their kind words, their alluring charisma...

What the hell were they doing to you?

————————— Cersei waited patiently in her room. She had neglected a few royal duties all for this. Her nails tapped on the table, then quickly stopped when she heard the door to her chamber open.

“Well?” She asked sharply.

The blond-haired boy failed to control his nerves under the queen regent’s gaze. “The Silver Hawk has captured the interest of Prince Oberyn and his paramour Ellaria Sand. The assassin has not outwardly verbalized her affection towards the Dornish, but she was seen in the courtyard on Lady Ellaria’s arm.”

Cersei took a moment to consider this. You never showed any outward affection towards anyone except her brother, and she couldn’t do anything about that, not while her brother was being protected under Tywin. But she could do something to you. You were only under the protection of Tyrion, which meant very little to her. Her father she had to obey, her brother she did not.

“Keep track of her. They don’t call her the Silver Hawk for nothing. She has a sharp eye, make sure you stay out of sight while you spy on her. If she finds you, you run. If I find out she spotted you, you will be executed. Do I make myself clear?” Cersei asked, having no concern for the man who was her own blood, her cousin.

“Y-yes, my lady.” The boy gulped before taking his cue to leave.

The queen stirred about in her chamber, her thoughts were only composed of how best to take revenge on you.

—————————

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

—————————

Tag List (if I’m missing someone please let me know!)

@ilikechocolatemilkh @rpcvliz @janelongxox @evyiione @grogusmum

[sleeperswakewriting]

For the prompt bucket!! Rivetra canonverse au in which Petra has a child and is a single parent when she meets Levi. She could still be a Scout or a civilian too, whatever makes more sense!

This prompt made me a bit weak 😩 I love every version of Dadvi

Summary: Levi is summoned to Erwin’s office for a blast from the past. 

Word count: 1.3k

Rating: G

“Captain, the Commander has ordered you to report to his office immediately. He said it’s urgent.” Levi grumbled as a Scout tracked him down in the stables; it was Saturday, a day where he certainly had off, and the last he heard, there were no titans in sight so he couldn’t possibly think what emergency there could be.

Levi told the Scout he’d be on his way, feeding the last of his apple core to his horse as he cleaned his hands and boots before making his way to Erwin’s office.

Lot of gall the Commander has, summoning me. Better be important.

He strode his way up the wooden staircase, and he noticed that Erwin’s door was open, accompanied by laughter from a woman. Did he have a girlfriend that he wanted to introduce Levi to?

Levi gave a short courtesy knock before entering, not waiting for permission, and his eyes widened by a fraction at the sight before him. A young woman in her early 20s with ginger hair sat in front of Erwin’s desk, and in her arms, was a young boy of five years old with dark ebony hair and piercing grey eyes, a spitting image of himself. While his hair was shaggy, Levi recognized the same grumpy look that he often wore, though it seemed like the child was ill-tempered from a lack of sleep as he attempted to nuzzle closer to the woman’s chest.

“Levi!” Erwin chirped, gesturing for Levi to come closer.

“This is Petra Ral. She has, ah, urgent business with you and I thought I’d do the honor of facilitating it.” He gave a nod to Petra. “I’ll leave you two alone, it was a pleasure meeting you. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out.” And he patted the child’s head, while brushing his hand against Petra’s hand. She blushed and thanked the Commander while she looked to Levi.

“Hi Captain,” she began, giving a measured swallow. “Do you remember me?”

If he were being honest, only vaguely, but from the child in her arms, he knew what was coming next.

“Five and a half years ago, the summer ball in Mitras. I was a dancer at the Military gala.”

Memories flooded through Levi; he was a younger Scout then, just named Captain and he was frustrated from the crap the Military Police were giving him. He found himself watching the dancers just to get away from the crowd, and he was entranced by the young ginger haired woman and her ribbons. While she was not the headliner, the way she weaved and flowed sent fire down his veins and after they finished, she joined the party and bumped into him.

Fascinated by his reputation, she found herself asking questions, and one thing led to another as they escaped to a back room and had a quick night of bliss. It was uncharactersitic of Levi; he usually only hooked up when he felt like it, not usually caring too much about his partner, but there was something special about her as she looked at him with admiration instead of the scornful disdain he had been facing all night.

He never saw her again, keeping the memory tucked into the back of his mind, but thinking nothing of it until now.

“This is Oliver, or Ollie. He’s your son,” she said, giving the child a kiss on the forehead. “I was going to tell you, but I knew what we had was a tryst so I never thought to bother you, being a Captain in the Survey Corps, but something’s come up the past few days.” And concern covered her brow as she gave him a serious look.

“I know it’s not my place to ask you personal questions, Captain, but Ollie’s been strange for the past week. An accident occurred in our neighborhood where a dog was let out and dragged Ollie from the front step, dragging him down the road, but Ollie was able to fend for himself. He…” And her eyes widened in horror. “He killed the dog. I don’t know how, he’s five years old! But one minute I heard screaming, then the next moment, Ollie was standing above the dog with a branch covered in blood. I took him to a physician right away, and the most he had was some minor bite marks, but other than that he’s fine. Except he’s strong now. I tried to put him down for bed a few nights ago when he was cranky, and when he kicked me, it was like he punched me in the gut. I figured since you’re in the Survey Corps, you might have some insight, but forgive me if you don’t, I just need answers before I take him to a doctor and they think I’m some horrible mother.”

She took a breath, panting from her long winded explanation and shame clouded her features as tears sprung to her eyes. “I just want my baby boy to be safe, and I think he might need his father right now. I’m not asking for money, I just want to know if this is normal.”

Cold dread ran through Levi’s blood, knowing all too well the phenomenon she was describing. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment it happened because he had grown up in the Underground, but it was innate, like a flash of lightning from the heavens guiding his every move. He felt it whenever he slayed a titan, whenever someone tried to stab him, and now this little boy had inherited whatever gift the goddesses had given him as well.

“Call me Levi,” he said without thinking, taking a seat beside Petra and she smiled.

“Thank you, Levi. Do you want to hold him?”

He extended his arms in wonder and she removed the child and told him that he was going to meet his Papa.

“Ollie, this is your Papa. He’s a very important man so he doesn’t live with us, but you look just like him. It’s where you get your handsome looks from!” She bounced him on her knees before handing him to Levi, and he felt warm heat engulf him as Petra inadvertently called him handsome and he took the child onto his lap, giving him a wondrous look.

“I guess I’m your father,” he remarked and the boy gave him a toothy grin.

“Papa!” He sang and a rush of protectiveness washed through Levi as he embraced the boy and chubby arms covered his head.

Ollie giggled, ruffling and playing with Levi’s hair as Petra looked at him with awe. Levi sat the child on his lap, holding him close as his eyes focused on Petra, ready to explain the curious power that he was bestowed with.

By the end of it all, Petra was shocked, but relieved that her son’s condition was nothing short of a miracle and it ultimately secured his safety for the rest of his life. Petra kissed her son’s head again as he fell asleep on Levi’s lap and she touched Levi’s hand gently.

“Thank you so much, Levi. We’ve taken up a lot of your time already, you must be very busy, but I really appreciate it. Let me know if you’d like to keep in touch, but you’re not obligated to. Ollie knows about you, I tell him stories of all of your valiant journeys but I don’t know if he’s old enough to understand.”

Levi looked at the child in his arms and hastily asked, “Would you like to stay for the weekend? I would like to get to know him better.”

Petra’s eyes watered as she nodded.

“Now granted, the barracks aren’t a safe place for children, but you guys can have my private room.”

“Oh, I would hate you to put you out! Though I’d imagine Ollie might bother the other soldiers so maybe it’s for the best. Are you sure?”

Levi stood with the child in his arms and nodded in affirmation. “Let’s go grab dinner. I want to hear all about him.”

[haloshornsinkstains]

Mine [Tomura Shigaraki]

This is a bit different from most of my other writing I think? Read the content warnings. It’s not as fluffy as a lot of my other writing. It was just an idea that wouldn’t go away and I finally got it all written out.

Sorry I haven’t updated much this week, first week back at work has been rough. Always open for requests though, especially headcanons or thirsts/drabbles atm.

CW: Omegaverse (Alpha!Shigaraki, Omega!Reader), female reader, NSFW, dubcon , blood, violence, kidnapping

Distressed omegas were meant to be a cowering, whimpering mess. They were meant to be easy to control, to comply subserviently with an Alpha, or even a Beta, in order to remedy whatever situation had them in such a state. Distressed omegas were most certainly not meant to be snarling, snapping and occasionally sending ripples of electricity and broken earth out at their captors. Which is exactly what you were doing.

 It was supposed to be an easy job, scope the place out, report back on your findings. The place was not, according to all the previous intel, supposed to be a hideout for one of the most notorious villain groups in all Japan. But just your luck, that was exactly what it was. You’d expected to die, honestly, when the small blonde had appeared out of nowhere. Maybe dying would have been the better option, rather than being tied up and surrounded by the League. You weren’t even entirely sure why you weren’t dead, she’d mumbled something about your scent and in a blurry series of events you’d found yourself here, growling at their leader as he crouched before you, easily recognisable with the hand obscuring his face.

 “Can someone tell me why we have a distressed omega in the middle of our floor?” He rasped, taking his eyes away from you for a moment to scan the group. “We caught her sneaking around!” Toga grinned, bouncing on the balls of her feet.  “Right. So why is she here and not, say, dead?” Shigaraki growled, before whipping his head back to you, nose wrinkled. “And will you stop that? You smell terrible.” You merely snarled in response. You knew your distress tinged your natural scent with a sour note that wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t as if you could control the feeling given your current predicament. “Um, boss, we do have her tied up. It’s probably not entirely her fault.” “Spinny is right. She smelled so good before~” Toga beamed. You snorted. “She’s bleeding, of course you thought she smelled good.” “Not like that! The blood smelled good, but she smelled right before she started bleeding. Then she smelled better~”  Tomura sighed, shifting forwards towards you to try and see what the beta girl meant. You shuffled backwards, baring your teeth at him in a snarl, sparks skittering off your skin towards him. Tomura snarled back, sharp canines glinting from between chapped lips in a clear threat. “Stop it! I could just kill you you know?” He glanced over his shoulder, missing the way your body drooped in poorly hidden hurt at his next words. “You just had to bring a broken omega didn’t you brat?”  Broken. You’d heard that before. No one wanted an omega who snarled and snapped back, instead of submitting at the drop of a hat. Omegas were supposed to be subservient. Motherly. They were supposed to have supportive roles. You were none of those, topped with an offensive type quirk, you weren’t what anyone would look for in an omega mate. You were broken, by their standards. “Stop. Calm down.” You reacted immediately to the new Alpha voice, your body relaxing against your own will, every fibre of your being racing to obey the alpha’s command. You turned your head to scowl at the man who’d pulled such a dirty trick, stupid Alpha’s and their stupid ability to make Omega’s obey. A scarred face grinned back at you, Dabi you realised, another strong Alpha - had to be to make you submit like that when you were so riled up. “You could’ve done that too you know creep, threatening her wasn’t going to make her any less distressed.” He huffed. “You’re the worst Alpha I’ve ever met.” Tomura scowled, scratching at his neck. “You must not spend much time with yourself.” Dabi huffed a laugh, leaning against the wall behind you. You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your neck, clearly watching for you to make some move to attack as Tomura shifted closer. His scent was getting stronger, too much so to just account for his proximity. He was trying to calm you, you realised belatedly, a hand twitching near his neck as if he didn’t dare scratch at the damaged glands further. It took a moment for the scent to really hit you, your eyes going wide and panicked as your body reacted, the urge to fling yourself towards him and flee warring between each other and leaving your frozen in place. You shook your head as a needy whine bubbled from your throat unbidden. Tomura fell backwards, brows pinched together in what you thought was a similar kind of distress. In a panic you tried to focus on a different scent, anything to push the scent of dusty rooms and decaying leaves and belonging from your nose. Your head whipped to Dabi behind you, breathing deeply through your nose. He was another Alpha, surely his scent should do something to mask Tomura’s, but the smoke and spice was far too faint to cover whatever the other Alpha had pumped through the room. Noticing your gaze Dabi just offered a lazy shrug, tilting his head slightly with a smug smirk. The burn scars that covered his neck must have messed with his scent glands, which also explained the tang of burnt flesh you got from him. The Betas weren’t doing much either, and everyone smelled faintly of blood, including you. With another needy whine you gave up and focused hard on the floor, trying not to breathe more than strictly necessary. The world around you blurred and faded as you fought every instinct in you screaming to reach out to the Alpha and bare your neck to his teeth. 'Stupid body, stop it. I'm better than this, I've met plenty of strong Alphas before.' 'But none of them smelled like that. Good enough to make you react like this' your traitorous mind whispered back. 'Screw that. I am not my secondary gender. I'm a hero. I don't roll over for anyone, and certainly not an infamous villain. No matter how good he smells…' 'Smells like mate. Your Alpha.' '...mate. No!'. You snarled into the floor, not quite sure when you’d shifted position like this. You vaguely registered the shuffle of feet, Tomura had stood and moved away at some point, and the low rasp of orders. "Spinner, go put her somewhere." "Okay? Uh, where?" "Anywhere but here." A door slammed and you felt yourself being lifted, heated over a shoulder. Spinner you guessed, he smelled weird, even under the blood and soft scent that marks him as part of the pack. His smell was dry, like sand and tanned leather and something reptilliant you couldn't place. He jostled you slightly as he moved down some stairs, making you hiss at him in irritation. He growled back, finally dumping you in a small cellar, your hands still tied.

“What was that all about?” Toga asked, spinning a knife in her hands.  “You can’t guess?” Dabi sighed. “Do you know anything?” Toga just shrugged, humming to herself. “I know how to stab people.” “From the omega’s reaction I’d say she smelled a mate.” Compress sighed. “I’m sure you can piece together who from the reaction.” “Oh. Oh. Maybe that’s why she smelled so nice before.” Dabi shrugged. “What did she smell like before? I only got the sour distressed smell, and… well.” Toga winced, the sour smell had been unpleasant sure, but the strange musk after it hadn’t been so bad. It reminded her of how things smelled after she got to play with blood. “She smelled good, like thunderstorms and old things. A bit like the bar when we first got here, except with more lightning.” “That explains it. Creepy hands McGee is going to be a child about it though.” Dabi hummed.  “You should have more faith in our leader.” Dabi shot Compress a disbelieving look and shook his head. “This is going to be a pain.”

You weren’t sure how long you’d been trapped in their cellar. Two days maybe, if they were bringing you three meals a day, longer if not and well… three meals a day seemed a little too generous for the group of villains. Yet no one had come to find you, probably assumed you were dead you reasoned, but the abandonment stung somewhere deep in your chest. You’d smelled your mate several times since you’d been captured too, lurking outside the door but never coming any further. Each time the battle with your instincts got harder, the omega inside you begging to call out, to crawl to the door and beg for him to come in. Occasionally small whimpers would slip past your lips, ones that you would scold yourself for, but worse was the answering growl that sometimes came from the other side of the door. Low and possessive and filled with a promise of something both dangerous and so, so tempting. Those times it was even harder to stay back, your body trembling from the effort of staying still. You didn’t want him, not logically, he was dangerous and cruel and evil. Everything opposed to what you worked for in life. But your traitorous body smelled a mate, the first one you’d met since high school, and it wanted him so badly it ached. 

Meanwhile Dabi was getting more and more frustrated, nothing was happening with the League while their boss was fixated on their captive, and while he didn’t really care about the League’s goals where they diverged from his own, the inactivity was boring the others and their restlessness was driving him insane. That and the constant growling of the other Alpha made his hackles rise, part of him he thought he’d buried long ago wanting to fight over the omega. It was stupid and he hated it, so it needed to be solved, and he knew just the thing to kick Shigaraki into action.

 You snapped awake from a fitful sleep as you heard the door to the cellar opening. A traitorous part of your mind hoping it would be your mate. Instead the faint smell of burning caught you nose and you huffed, turning away from the other Alpha. You heard a growl from behind you but ignored it, pulling the blanket around you protectively. “Go away.”  There was a rough laugh. “I don’t think so little Omega. All this pining is getting annoying.” You huffed. “There is no pining. But if you’re here to kill me just get it over with, this cellar smells terrible.” “Tempting but no” he grabbed your shoulders, flipping you onto your back in one swift motion “I’ve got a much better plan.” Your body tensed up, preparing to fight whatever this asshole planned to do to you, despite the power-dampening bands they’d locked onto your wrists. You pulled your legs up, closing them tightly, ready to kick him away. But Dabi was deceptively strong, pinning your legs down with one arm as his other grabbed something from his coat pocket, binding it over your nose and mouth. A gag, you thought at first, ready to scream for help that probably wouldn’t come as soon. But then the smell hit you, your eyes going wide and panicked. It was his smell, dusty and decaying and enough to set all of your nerves on fire. You thrashed on the bed, tossing your head around and trying to get it off, get away from the intoxicating scent, but Dabi had a hand pressed hard against your throat. “Behave.” You froze with a whimper that you hated yourself for. “Good Omega. Now, we just need to wait until your heat kicks in and this’ll all be over.” You struggled weakly again, your heat hadn’t been very far off when you first broke in here anyway, the overwhelming scent of Alpha, of Mate, would only bring it on faster. And with Dabi pressing down on your neck you felt you might pass out before you could get the clothing off you. Everything was hazy and the blood was pounding in your ears as the edges of your vision darkened.

 Dabi sighed, climbing off you and sniffing the air. Beneath the sour sting of distress he could smell the sweetness and thick musk that signalled an impending heat. A couple hours and you’d be in full heat he figured, plenty of time to convince the creep to get down here and trap him in here with you. Dabi figured he’d either kill you, fuck you and then kill you or (and it was probably the least likely) actually claim you as a mate and stop this ridiculous moping. Maybe having an omega around the place would be useful, you were supposed to be good at looking after people and all that shit and god knows these idiots need it. Now he just had to convince the creep to actually enter the cellar.

 In the end it was easier than he thought. All he had to do was suggest you were in some kind of danger and some long dormant Alpha instincts seemed to kick in, sending Shigaraki darting into the cellar before his brain could catch up with what he was doing. With a satisfied bark of laughter Dabi slammed the door shut again, banking on the boss’ instincts kicking in before he could think of disintegrate the door with his quirk. Sliding the lock shut he turned to address the door, raising his voice so he could be heard inside. “We’re all sick of your nonsense, so either fuck or kill each other. I don’t care.” You were staring wide eyed at Shigaraki from your makeshift blanket nest, a sheen of sweat making your skin almost glow in the dim light. The room stank with the scent of your heat, sickly sweet and tinged with ozone. For his part Shiagraki had pressed himself back against the door, staring at you as if you were about to pounce on him and eat him alive. Though, in his defence, your instincts were screaming at you to do exactly that. In a way it was almost funny, that something so simple could reduce someone so powerful to panic like this, but you knew how dangerous that could be at the same time, how easily he could kill you. You tried to growl at him, but it came out more like a needy whimper, a ripple of pain running through your body. You knew it was only a matter of time before he lost control, maybe it was better to just get it over with… the way your body was screaming at you was getting harder to ignore too. Before you realised what was happening you had started to crawl towards him, his snarl the only thing that snapped you out of the heat daze and made you stop. “Stay back.” You froze, studying him carefully. He was trembling, a thin sheen of sweat covering his face, his hands frozen into claws on the floor, pinkies raised. So it was getting to him faster than you bargained for. Great.  “I’m trying!” You hissed. “Try harder!” You narrowed your eyes, a snarl escaping your lips. “Screw you.” He answered with a growl, deep and low in his throat, the sound making you whine and press yourself to the floor on instinct, hips raised in the air. In the few seconds it took you to realise what you were doing something in Tomura snapped, the scent of your heat and the submissive mating position sparking every instinct in his body. In a flash you’re trapped beneath him, feeling the solid press of his length against your ass. He’s trembling, barely restrained as he ruts against your clothing. It’s sweet, in a twisted way, that he’s this far gone but still trying to hold on to a thread of control, to wait for your consent. And with him pressed so close, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, you know you can’t hold off much longer. Each time you try to say no it comes out as whine, your heat growing stronger with each passing heartbeat. “Please.” It comes out as a whine, but your hips rocking back against his is more than enough to tell him what you want.

 His fingers scrabbled at your pants, careful to keep his pinkie away from the clothes even in this state.  You heard the groan as he saw the mess of slick sticking to your underwear, you could feel it starting to run down your legs, the smell almost overwhelming. You heard more fabric rustle before you felt him pressing against you, felt the quiver in his body as he stilled with his head just pressing at your entrance. You whined, low and needy, bucking your hips back against him again, knees pressed together by your hastily tugged down clothes and chest cold against the floor. Behind you he growls, hips bucking forwards with enough force to almost push you over. His body folded over yours, hands pressed against the floor, away from you. A small thing, but it speaks volumes about his unwillingness to hurt you, that the bond of knowing you’re mates has stuck with him too. It’s the last coherent thought you have before your brain is completely overcome with a haze of lust, devoid of any thoughts except how good his cock feels inside you, hard and heavy rubbing along your inner walls. Your hands scrabble against the floor as he bucks up into you, pressing against a spot on your insides with every thrust that makes you see stars, his breath a series of harsh pants in your ears. There’s no dirty talk, no indication how much he’s enjoying this aside from the occasional ‘fuck’ or low moan. You could feel his knot pressing against your entrance, stretching you a little more with each thrust, brushing against your clit and pushing you closer and closer to your release. You knew anyone who passed would be able to hear your wanton moans and whimpers through the door, too lost in pleasure to control your volume. “Please. Please knot me Alpha, mate.” You whined, rocking back against him. “Need you.” There was a low chuckle from above you, dark and twisted. “Lost all your fight little omega? How pitiful.” You whined, clenching down around him. It was all it took for him to thrust hard once more, his knot pushing past your outer ring and locking itself inside you. The sudden pressure tipped you over the edge, spasming around his dick, barely aware as he made a final few shallow thrusts before groaning and tipping over the edge himself, filling you with his warm come. The pain of his teeth latching onto your neck, the sharpened canines piercing through the bond mark, was enough to bring you out of your daze. “Mine.”  Locked together you could feel his tongue lapping at the wound, cleaning the blood and soothing the sting of the bite. You tried not to struggle, worried the movement would anger him, even as you could hear the mutterings of ‘mine, my omega’ against your skin. With the worst of your heat sated right now you could almost think clearly again, despite the stretch of his knot inside you firing all kinds of signals inside your body. You’d allowed yourself to be claimed by one of the biggest villains in Japan, in a dingy basement against a cold stone floor. He’d bitten you and marked you as his. There was no way they were going to let you out of there now, no matter how much you begged or used your ‘omega charms’ on them. You were trapped. At least the claim would offer you some protection from the others, or so you hoped.

What on earth had you gotten yourself into?

[namiikawaii]

Luffy x Nami: A thread Part 1

Disclaimer: This is very long so be prepared to take some time & also if you haven't watched/read One Piece at all then don't read this if you don't want to read spoilers. Firstly I'd like to adress all the people who dont believe in a love romance in One Piece aswell as those who are against this ship or do ship Luffy and Nami with different characters: Please read the thread thoughoutly and don't jump to conclusions before you read everything. I will try to mention all of the issues that are underlying in regards to general things like love romance in One Piece and I want to consider counter arguments and create hypotheses in sight of other pairings like Luffy x Boa and Sanji x Nami (which I think are the other main ships when it comes to Luffy and Nami).   So it is important to be a little patient through all of this thread.

Let's start off with the question about love romance in One Piece... ''D: Doesn't anyone on Luffy's crew fall in love? Will there never be a tale of on-board romance? (Sanji is an exception in this case) I'm just wondering. -From Naoko- O: But they do... They're all in love...WITH ADVENTURE. (← good one)'' This is exactly the part of the SBS where Oda answered the question about romantic love in the Strawhat Crew. Firstly, this is obviously meant as a silly statement. It is definetly no confirmation but to see this as a serious statement is overexagerrating. Secondly, Oda wanted to answer this question by dodging it without nullifying it. What does that mean? He could have just simply said, there is no romance in One Piece and there never will be (this wouldn't be the first time that he would have answered a question in a direct and serious way). But no, he wanted to make sure that the audience understands that there is a difference between romantic love and romance (in an adventure) and that the Strawhats are on a journey of a romantic adventure which has nothing to do with loving each other in a romantic way. There are two reasons for that: -One Piece is a pure shonen/action Manga and it's target audience are teenage boys (at least this was the case when he made that statement, i don't know how that might have changed by now maybe) -For the other reason just imagine One Piece if there was active love romance going on...we wouldn't be near the story that we are now. Let's just say it would add so much more complications, to put it very simple (I don't want to go into that deep now). But now here comes the clue: All of this doesn't mean that Oda completely lefts love romance out. Because despite of all the points that I just mentioned there are pairings and there is also subtle (no explicite) love romance. Lets just look at the pairings, these are all pairings that I think the majorty of people wouldn't question: -Kaya and Usopp -Sabo and Koala -Shanks and Makino -Shakky and Rayleigh -Roger and Rouge -Oden and Toki

And yes none of these cases showed the love story between those people (maybe Kaya and Usopp if you really want) but THAT IS THE POINT! Only because Oda doesn't let the characters speak out ''i love you'' or makes them kiss all of the time doesn't mean there isn't any kind of romantic love connection between characters in One Piece (the kiss on WCI was an exeption though). This also doesn't mean that there is no possibilty of romance between the Strawhats. I get it that people see them as a familiy, and they truly are one. If there was romance between two of them during the story of One Piece the dynamic wouldn't be the same anymore, especially if there was a canon relationship between Luffy as the captain/ main protagonist and another crewmember. I mean we don't want to see Luffy prefering one nakama over the other. If he calls for his friends, he calls for everyone and not firstly for the person he's in love with. They are all equally as important as the others. But you have to remeber that they aren't blood-related and it wouldn't be weird at all if some of them are ending up together after the adventure of the One Piece. That's the reason why the hints that are given by Oda are really hints, not just merely coincidence.

And i wouldn't be here if Oda didn't hint Luffy and Nami in the past and he will hint them in the future or even more. Let's beginn chronologically with the bond-forming between Luffy and Nami and why their relationship is special EAST BLUE SAGA -Nami was intended as a crew-member from the very beginning, even before One Piece was existing. That's the reason why Luffy and Nami saw each other in the first episode of One Piece. It was to pay hommage to Silk/Ann the heroines of the Romance Dawn Manga. (Just read into it if you want to know more) But what's important is that they were the inspiration for Nami as a character/ as the heroine.

-Orange Town: Luffy and Nami meet for the first time in the Manga Nami reveals her goal to Luffy - which is ''to buy a certain village'' (keep this in mind) Luffy tells Nami why the strawhat is so dear to him - he won't be telling anyone afterwards these details again -Nami tricks Luffy. Buggy captures him but when Nami is forced to fire a canon ball at Luffy she refuses, starts a fight against all the Buggy-Pirates and finally at the risk of her own life she burns her hands facing the pirates with her back in order to prevent the canonball to blow up Luffy (she does quite much for this pirate guy she just met) - you see that at this point Luffy did touch something in Nami's heart because when they have to escape she literally instantly fires the canonball at Buggy without hesitation. -Nami sewing Luffy's damaged hat. Since then it's always her who takes care of it if it takes any damage/ if there is something to sew in it like Ace's Vivre Card. Now I want to put in here my first hypothetical compairison for the LuBoa and SaNa shippers. Just imaging now this same situation happening between Luffy and Boa. Luffys hat is ripped apart - maybe she knows that Luffys hat is his treasure maybe not but lets imagine she does know. She will of course sew it, would probably blush and say something romantic about her doing this for him. And as a shipper this would be the most romantic thing for you wouldn't it? In reality it is Nami who precisely watches Luffy and understands the importance of his hat to him, she goes up to him and fixes his strawhat, with the only difference that it is just more natural and less lovey-dovey from Nami's part (because of course she would never act like that if she was in love with someone). I am already asking you now, which lovestory sounds more believable? -Syrupp Village: There are a few cute moments (Nami catches Luffy and cheers on him and so on...) but i wanted to especially point out that these two are are sitting/lying on the ground after the fight and Nami playes with the Strawhat, Luffy is of course unbothered. But this already shows how comfortable these two are at this point, they know each other only for a few days now. And also this image of them two talking and sitting together is a theme that continues throughout One Piece. -Namis leaves with the Going Merry, looking devestated that she has to leave ''Luffy and the others'', and Luffys reaction after Zoro says to just leave her: ''I want her to by our navigator no matter what'' (These words are enough, no comment needed and also look at Zoro's face as Luffy is stating these words) -Kokoyashi Village: Luffy already trusts and knows Nami so well that he is enraged to hear that she allegedly killed Usopp - the others are sure that she did it but Luffy insists, and even when Nami confirmes to him that she indeed sent Usopp to the ocean's ground Luffy refuses to accept it and immediatly goes to sleep. (I'm sure it's because he knew that something was wrong but he knew he had to wait for Nami to come up to him)

-The famous moment hits different (for shippers and non-shippers): Luffy giving Nami his precious strawhat! He wants to show her how much she is dear to him, his gives her his treasure because now she's his treasure too (and you can see this in a romantic way or in a platonic way but just remember that Luffy never did this ever to anybody in the past or in the future) Now i want to mention something that i said earlier: people often say that Luffy didn't care about Namis story but let me tell you something different. Luffy already knew what Nami's obejectif was (to buy a certain village) now Luffy also knows that there is a pirate called Arlong and when Nami is stabbing herself she shouts his name in devastion. Luffy is not dumb, he understood already some parts of Nami's history - later when he is in Nami's room he understands the impact even more. It is so far from truth that Luffy doesn't know Namis story, he may not know some details, but he could conntect enough points to understand Nami's pain. And my personal theory is that he didn't wanted to hear Nojikto telling Nami's story because maybe Nami wouldn't have wanted him to hear it and it could certainly be that he knew that maybe he couldn't hold himself back and intervene before Nami asked him to do so and finally rely on him! -Genzo and Luffy's conversation: just read/watch it - it is a father to boyfriend conversation (i thought so even before i shipped LuNa) So far these are the most important moments for the East Blue Saga, and of course there are other things you could mention but i just wanted to point out the key moments that really built their relationship and created the whole fundament. Since I don't know when I can continue writing on this, I am just going to show some colourspreads which contain hints in my opinion. (Like Nami being represented as a queen, or Nami holding and wearing Luffy’s hat)

[kintatsujo]

LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away Part TWENTY-NINE

Previous post is here!!!

This is another mostly-prose-with-illustrations post and most of the wrap posts are going to be the same because there’s a lot to cover. 

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

Dinravi stabs Nightmare Demise and sends lightning through the blade. As Nightmare Demise fades he suddenly grins, teeth all sharp:

[Image Description: Nightmare Demise is laying on his back, grinning as smoke hisses around him.  “Maybe NEXT TIME, Little Prince,” he says.  Dinravi frowns down at him.  “In DEMISE’S Nightmares, perhaps,” he says.  End ID.]

(Note: I did not expect Dinravi to say that.)

Link manages that second blow, and Fierce Deity stumbles back, still smiling the same as before.

[Image Description: Fierce Deity puts his hand to his chest and closes his eyes, black blood trickling thick from one side of his smile.  He fades away.  Link, who’s gained a bruised cheek and a cut lip since we’ve last seen, stares at him in some confusion and mixed emotion.  End ID.]

At last, together, all three Triforce bearers turn their power on the God's Nightmare in the center of the room along with Eltani and Ghirahim, and with Hylia's Light Queen Zelda closes the tear in reality.

Zelda rushes to the sacristy to check on her daughter. Astramorus is coming through the door to the tunnels as she makes it there, the pendant with the Moon Pearl over his shoulder, the book of spells under his arm, looking exhausted, and they stop to stare at one another for half a breath.

"... Where is Serenumbra?" Zelda asks him.

Astramorus's face twists and then he holds up a limp creature, some sort of snake with a skull for a face that is definitely not a snake's skull.

"We scuffled," he says, as if that explains everything. "He's alive and I'm GOING to change him back, but your Majesty I'm not a young man, this seemed like an easier way to get him back up here."

[Image Description: Astramorus, looking very done and with the Moon Pearl over his shoulder and the magic book under his arm, presents with his other hand a snake with a human skull that appears to be attempting to constrict his arm. The snake is labeled “Snakenumbra.”  End ID.] 

Queen Zelda stares at him with the schooled expression of someone who has made a career of not laughing at the wrong moment.

"We'll discuss this when we get to your sentencing for attacking Prince Dinravi," she says, and Astramorus shrugs.

"I think you know I didn't go after him because of that," he answers.

[Image Description: Link sits on one of the stone beds in the Sanctuary and leans back on his hands. Ghirahim settles down next to him. Link side eyes him.

"You look terrible," he says.

"Thanks for noticing," Ghirahim answers with a tired smile. "You look WORSE."

Dinravi, off panel, sends a "Leave him alone, Ghirahim," in their direction.  End ID.]

"No I've decided that I like this one," Ghirahim shoots back. "We fought a hinox and an eldritch nightmare together and I think he might be a little crazy." He grins at Link, teeth all sharp. "I learned my lesson with the first of you," he says, "The spirit of the hero does something funny to your heads, it's entertaining when it's not frustrating."

Link stares at him and then rubs the mark on his hand. "I thought this was some kind of mistake, actually," he admits.

Ghirahim gives him a flat look as if he can't believe what he's hearing. "I threw your father off a roof and you were ready to kill me, I could see it in your face," he says. "You epitomize your predecessor's foolishness."

Link is absolutely not sure how to take that.

Astramorus thumbs through the book of magic and finds the counter to the spell Serenumbra used to put the princesses to sleep, waking them.

"Well now, Dove," Queen Zelda says, "you're safe now," and Princess Zelda, who'd been holding it together so well, falls into her mother's arms.

Princess Hilda stares at them silently for a moment before saying "I'm so deeply sorry for the trouble Lord Serenumbra has caused."

Princess Zelda pulls away and asserts, "She had no idea, Mother."

Queen Zelda gives Hilda a rueful smile. "You know, I have another arm if you need it."

Hilda is taller than Queen Zelda (she's quite a tall girl) but that doesn't matter; she buries her face in the older woman's neck and begins to sob.

"There now, that's better," Queen Zelda says.

[Image Description: Hilda is folded over Zelda Sr and sobbing into her hands on Zelda’s shoulder, while Zelda Jr is leaning into Zelda Sr’s other shoulder and crying more quietly, giving Hilda a tired and fond look.  Queen Zelda has her arms wrapped around both girls and is making a serious thoughtful face, thinking: “So how do I explain to my husband that I’m adopting the ruler of a neighboring country this time.” End ID.]

Then, at Hilda's insistence, they restore the proper shapes of the Scarred Woman and the Burly Man.

"On the love of Hylia, your highness," the Scarred Woman promises Hilda, "I'll never take another order not from your kind lips."

Queen Zelda purses hers. "I think being turned into.... That. Was more than enough punishment for the part you two played in this mess," she decides. "As for Serenumbra himself-"

Serenumbra's shape is being restored by Astramorus as she says this and he barely waits for a human tongue to open his mouth. "Princess Hilda," he says, smiling paternally, "I was only acting in what I saw as your best interests-"

"Shut up," Hilda cuts him off. She looks like she's ready to cry again. "Your Majesty, do as you please with him, I never want to see him again."

"I helped raise you-" Serenumbra starts, and it's Astramorus who cuts him off this time:

"Don't make me hit you with this book again, Seren," he says.

"I think his fate is my right, at this point." This is Eltani. "He would have had my son either murdered or seduced by a demon to spread bloodshed across Hyrule."

"Well, he's only a little more than half demon now," Serenumbra starts to say.

"What." Ghirahim says.

"I pulled some human emotion into him to make him more manageable," Serenumbra continues as if he hadn't spoken. "There was plenty around the castle, Hilda's a very nice girl."

Hilda gets up and leaves while Ghirahim leans directly into Serenumbra's face and starts screaming at him.

[Image Description: Ghirahim saying his fuckin piece.  He has one hand braced on the wall behind Serenumbra, who is flinching back, while Ghirahim holds his other hand- shape shifted into claws- in a position ready to grab and tear.  Ghirahim is absolutely screaming, although some of the dialogue is cut off.  End ID.]

The dialogue isn’t in the image description because I’m going to share the entire thing including cut-off parts here: “You awful disgusting little man daring to toy with the magnificent Ghirahim even THINKING to tamper with MY PERSON I should cut you to pieces and leave you with your heart still beating in the sun for the lizalfos in the desert to find and we’d see whose problem I was THEN I swear on my last master’s ashes if it wasn’t for my prince you’d already be gutted on the floor for this but you’re not worthy of bleeding on the same carpet that’s touched his feet and that you dared to assume that your disgusting machinations would even work on him proves what a pathetic fool you really are-”

Eventually Dinravi pulls him gently away. "I knew there was something wrong," Ghirahim mutters, then says, "Eltani tell your son to let me kill him I'll never backtalk you again."

"Tempting, even if I don't believe that," Eltani admits. "Zelda?"

Queen Zelda shrugs. "He's all yours, dear."

Finally, finally Serenumbra's smug face drops. "Well, at least my dear old friend will be keeping me company on the gallows," he says nastily, looking at Astramorus.

Astramorus seems unmoved; Link on the other hand is immediately worried, looking to Queen Zelda and Eltani, who both look a bit thoughtful.

Eltani says, "Well, no, he's certainly exiled from Gerudo City, but I think I'm willing to go with the idea that he was acting under duress."

"Seren didn't actually tell me to-" Astramorus starts to say, but she holds up a hand.

"Even now you're calling him a fond nickname," she says sadly. Astramorus looks surprised to have this pointed out.

"I'm willing to acknowledge the help he's been since the incident," Zelda says. "But we'll discuss it back in Hyrule. Lord Astramorus has only done good here in Lorule, it's unfair to sentence him here, especially on the heels of the battle he helped win."

"I think that's fair," Eltani agrees, and with that I'm wrapping the post because holy wow it got long lol

[andiboyo]

Angst - Your Fault?

Pairing: Bucky x GN!Reader

Word count: 1236

Trigger warnings: Blood, mentions of death, Bucky being sad

Summary: You need to catch Zemo before he kills Karli, but what would happen if you were being reckless, causing Bucky to lose the thing Bucky loves most, you.

You were not too sure if it was your fault you had gotten into this mess, but all you knew now was you needed to get Zemo, gone from his binds, you followed him to where he was headed. Hearing a gunshot from the distance, you see the vague outline of Zemo pass through the door and into a room. 

“Zemo!” You yell, trying to get his attention, failing.

Keeping his ground, he walked over to a tipped over table, Karli was on the other side. You knew that he would kill her in a heartbeat.

“Zemo stop!” You push him back.

Time seemed to almost pause at your actions, realizing it’s flaws and mistakes. Yet, it went so fast it seemed destined you would be in this situation. Pushing against Zemo, who was holding a gun, was not the best choice you’ve ever made, but possibly, the worst. A loud bang, and flash was heard, and the next thing you knew, you were on the ground. Zemo almost seemed frightened at what happened, and dropped next to you, calling to you in such a distant voice.

“(Y/N)!?” He echoed. 

Knocked out, Zemo is hit with John’s shield, you reach for him, as if to get his attention, but he looks away, and to the last bile of serum on the ground. Your chest heaved in pain, you cry to him for help. But he was too focused.

“(Y/N)! What the Fuck happened??” Bucky jumps over the stairs, kneeling down to you, holding you upright.

Choking on your own blood, you feel cold. “Buck- I’m sorry, I tried- grabbing him, but I made him pull the trigger- I’m sorry- I’m sorry.” You repeat.

“No, no, no, don’t say sorry, it wasn’t your fault, we’ll take you to a hospital, and you’ll be okay? Right?” He looks to Sam, as if reassuring himself.

Sam though, looks at him, something missing in his eyes, hope. “We need to hurry to do that, they’ve lost a lot of blood.” 

Picking you up in a swift motion, Bucky looks to Sam. “Where is the nearest Hospital?” He questions. 

“One block down from here, it’s a big place, hurry, I’ll get Zemo back, but you can’t stay with them for too long, we still have a mission.” Sam looks down. “Just hope for the best.” He finishes.

Nodding, Bucky sprints with you in his arms, causing you to cry in pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just hold on a little more.” He begs.

It was muffled, but your eyes felt heavy, holding onto his shoulder, you squeeze with the amount of strength you carry left.

“If-” You cough, swallowing down the blood that came up from your mouth. “If I die- don’t put this mission off- don’t” You stare blankly. 

“You are not dying on me Doll. Stop talking like that.” 

Making his way into the building, the nurses quickly grab you and escort you on a stretcher, where Bucky follows close behind, looking at you. 

“Sir, What happened?” One nurse asks.

“They were shot, I’m not sure how much blood they’ve lost though.” He explains.

“We need you to stay out in the waiting room, we’ll try our hardest to make sure they’re stable.”

Nodding, but not falling back, he stops once you reach the door, and into the room he is not allowed in. Bucky knew that Ayo would be there when he arrived, so looking one last time at the door, he tells the receptionist that he would be back later. Agreeing, she tells him when they close, nodding he makes his way back to Sam and Zemo. Opening the door, he is met with a beautiful sight, John and Lemar fighting, or rather getting their asses beat. But right when one of them was about to stab John, he caught the spear. This goes on for a while until Zemo leaves, and makes them all go their separate ways. Sam turns to Bucky.

“I can’t believe he just did that.” He looks down at the sewer drain.

“I can.” Bucky declares.

“How’s (Y/N)?” Sam questions.

“I don’t know.” He sniffles.

“For now we don’t have anything to do, go there and I’ll call you when we have our next lead, okay?” Sam pats his shoulder. 

Nodding sternly, Bucky returns back to the hospital, where the receptionist looks up, almost apologetic.

“Are they okay?” He asks.

“Their room is C10, I recommend you go in there now, the doctor will be in there.” She explains.

Walking silently to the door, he knocks, hearing someone make a noise of acknowledgement, he enters.

“You must be the man that brought them here, correct?” The doctor asks.

“Yes, are they going to be alright?” He stares at your figure, unconscious and not-moving.

“I have some bad news, sit down.” He points at the chair.

Sitting down, Bucky looks scared, terrified, what will happen to you? What has happened to you?

“They have been in a stable condition, and are now being medicated with painkillers, but that doesn’t matter due to the fact they have gone into a coma state, if you wish to ask any questions, do so now.”

“How long have they been like this?” He stares at his hands.

“1-2 hours now, they wanted to see you before they were falling unconscious, I am sorry we couldn’t call you, there was no phone number or contact we could find you from.” He explains.

Nodding, Bucky sits up. “How long do you think this is going to last.” Bucky sniffles, eyes red with tears falling.

“We- We are not sure, but with hope since it was a gunshot, they would be under for weeks maybe, but there is no 100%, they’ve been shot in between the Kidney and Liver, so it hit some vital organs.” 

“I see, I need some time alone if you could, I’ll pay at the front desk for them.” He explains.

“Certainly, I wish the best of luck for them, and don’t beat yourself up about it.” The doctor states, before leaving. 

Grabbing onto your hand, Bucky gives a slight squeeze, before bawling, choking in his own sobs. “Damn it (Y/N), why you, why?” He whispers, hiccuping a second later.

Standing, he can’t help but feel guilty, you wanted to see him before this happened, and he wasn’t there for you. Leaving the room, he pays and exits, calling Sam about your situation, Sam tells him not to speak about it over call and make it more clear in person. Making it back, Bucky is met with an embrace.

“I’m sorry man.” Sam whispers.

“It’s not your fault.” 

“It’s not yours either.” Sam explains.

“So when they were begging to see me before going into a fucking coma, it wasn’t my fault I wasn’t there for them!? It wasn’t my fault for not protecting them?!” Bucky snaps.

“No, it wasn’t Buck, you wouldn’t have known, and it couldn’t have been prevented, I want you to rest for now, we have to leave tomorrow for Karli. I swear to you we’ll come back for (Y/N) once they call. One call, and we’ll pause the mission, okay?” Sam explains.

Nodding in between sobs, Bucky lays down in his room, unable to sleep, haunted by your unmoving body, and heart rate on the machine whirring. This was Bucky’s nightmares coming to life.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Dumbass got stabbed III

I really thought I had finished with this two shot but after a request from @/booksrlife300 on ao3 asking for the aftermath I really couldn't resist making it a three shot. And my writing demon certainly agreed because it really went wild during my plane ride.

Anyway here is part three (and i think the final part) to dumbass got stabbed.

Recap (since it's been over a year):

Percy gets stabbed by a monster after coming back from the movies with his friends and the first place he goes to is Jason's house. Jason nearly has a heart attack after Percy collapses on his door and then he pulls him inside and stitches him all up.

This fic starts with Percy waking up the next morning.

[image has alt text]

Percy wakes up to searing pain. It spills across his skin like an upturned sowing box. He doesn't know where it's coming from because it feels like it's coming from everywhere. He can't even take stock of his body because he feels like one big pincushion. He supposes being stabbed makes him a pincushion.

He doesn't want to open his eyes. He can feel the light behind them. Too bright. Too loud. Too not how he feels.

He feels like deep darkness. Like the darkness just before a star explodes. The darkness before the sky erupts. The kind that blankets all of his senses except the one that pings danger. That's red and wailing at him. But then pain so untamed it turns his vision orange lances across his side and his eyes snap open with a low howl.

He can see white ceiling. He can see black dots. He hears scrambling, clothes rustling and something falling over. And then he can see blue eyes. And then he can see skies and oceans and glass bottles and concern like mothering hens staring down at him.

"Percy," His name is a growled gasp. Sleep still clinging to the strings of his friends voice box, scratching it's way down his throat.

"Hello, I'm in immense pain." Vaguely he notes that he sounds like an automated machine relaying it's faulty inner workings. That's half how he feels now that the burning-orange pain has lessened to a caution-yellow.

"Here," A golden hand, fingers wrapped in individual bandages, long and racing with green veins, holds out a square to him. It is small and unassuming. Nobody would guess it holds the food of gods. Then again nobody would guess those gods existed.

His mouth feels as though he's been eating his clothes for sustenance the last week. All heavy tongue, dry saliva glands, and teeth too smudgy to be healthy. He considers turning the square away for some toothpaste and a glass of water. But neither of those are going to magically cure the wound marking his side. So he opens his mouth, his jaw, and let's Jason drop the square onto his tongue. Warm fingers brush his lips as they pull back and he wants to chase the lightning-blue zing that they leave behind against his sarcastic mouth.

Instead he snaps himself shut and chews slowly. Only half interested in the cookies, then brownies, then soda— which he somehow knows is blue— disappears down his throat. He feels the magic working through his veins, skin stitching itself together. A headache he didn't know he had disappates.

With a long exhale he relaxes back against cotton cushions and finally takes a good look around the room. He has every detail of it already memorised, having spent many a day and night in this position bothering his friend endlessly. There's the singular shelf that houses old trinkets tattered and bruised from years of moving; the single arrow from Thalia's set— given in protection and as a reminder that she would always be there, for real this time; there's the gaudy new York taxi keyring he had given the blonde, now without the ring part, so of no real use; and the snow globe from Piper when she visited Paris. The soft yellow wall— lemon drizzle if you want to get specific— sits in perfect contrast to the charcoal grey of the rest of the room. It sort of embodies Jason's whole presence. The desk, well used and scattered with books and paper and Chinese takeout containers, sits in the corner opposite the bedroom, right near the window. He says if he can see the city he can breathe a little easier. He knows what he's working towards. Percy thinks it's so he can see the sky and know there's always a way to escape.

Him and Jason are good at that. Escaping. From bad situations, from big feelings, from each other. There's always something left unsaid between them. It drives their friends mad, but it's all they can do to stop from becoming hurricanes and devouring the entire universe.

"How are you feeling?" The blonde is sitting in his swivelly squeaky desk chair, leaning over him with all sense of care and concern. It makes him feel like duck egg blue.

"Much better thank you." He attempts a grin. He hopes it's not a grimace. "No matter how many times I get stabbed it doesn't seem to hrut any less."

Jason narrows his eyes, "I wonder why."

See that's what Percy likes. Everyone else is always giving him disapproving looks and worried scoldings when he says things like that but Jason? Jason indulges him, makes it feel not so suffocating to always be injured and bruised and relying on little squares of God-food to get him through the month.

"How do I look?" This time it's definitely a grin. He can feel the green of his eyes go emerald with amusement.

"Very pretty as always." The reply is solemn, but there's a twitch of pink lips and it's all he can do to not reach over and touch it.

"Want to tell me what happened?" A frown replaces the amusement and he wants to rewind the last few seconds again and again. "You were a little...out of it when you showed up."

"Yes I suppose getting attacked by a monster makes all the smart chemicals in my brain go a little foamy."

"You don't know what attacked you?"

And he is pinned to the bed, to the room, to the world. Because nobody can read the words behind his words the way Jason can. Can read the emotion behind his pauses and the expressions behind his masks. He is neon purple.

"It was dark." He resigns himself to the story. When he's done, laid all the boring details bare, he studies the floors.

The silence stretches around them, cocooning them into something too delicate to touch. It feels almost awkward, or it would if he knew anything about that when he was here. Instead it's just quiet.

"Can you stand? You need a shower."

"Oof Jase," He puts a hand to his chest, hurt painted like clown's make up falling across his face. "I can't look that bad."

There's a precious smirk, full of quick whips kicking up in his friend. "It's the way you smell actually."

He takes an exaggerated whiff and nearly gags. "I smell like I'm decaying." He shudders.

A laugh bursts from the blonde and Percy doesn't want to move in case the music ends. He feels candy floss pink in that moment.

"Right up you get. I'll sort out breakfast and then you can entertain me for the day."

"You don't have to take care of me." He rolls his eyes, sitting up with a hidden wince. His feet settle on the floor. He's grateful neither of them acknowledge that he came here in a haze. That Jason did take care of him. That when his mind was nothing but blinding pain this was the first place his legs took him.

"I'm not taking care of you. I'm using you for entertainment."

What his friend doesn't realise is that Percy can read all his hidden scripture just as well. How "entertain me" means I'm keeping an eye on you. How "mind helping me with this" means I can do it just fine by myself but I want company. How winks mean "it's a joke between us" but smirks mean "it's honesty but gently". It warms his heart to know he can do this. It's a sunshine yellow thing to know someone the way they know each other.

"You good?" Jason stops at the door when he still hasn't moved from the bed.

"Yes just preparing to haul my very large body into your very small shower." He feels the eye roll more than see it. It tugs a smile onto his face.

"I'll remind you that I'm an even larger body and I make it work."

"How on earth do you ever have shower—"

"Percy Jackson!" He is snapped into a laugh.

And then he's in the bathroom and his mouth is full of mint bubbles and although there are circles as deep purple as squished plums under his eyes they shine with contentness. He doesn't fear or worry. Not here. At home, in his mother's house, he's the protector from monsters only he can decimate. At camp he is the protector from monsters that are determined to destroy. But here. He is just Percy. And his protector is cooking pancakes in the kitchen. He is just Percy. And he is sage green as he steps into the steam of the shower.

He looks down, catching the fading wound on his abdomen. His brown skin let's droplets of water rest briefly before rippling and they go racing down to the tiled floor. He stands there for a good minute just staring blankly. But then he hears the sound of a kettle whistling and it jolts him into action as he scrubs the grime and gross of yet another something trying to kill him, off his body.

By the time he's done— sweats and a loose tee rummaged from Jason's closet draping over his too hot skin— the pancakes are neatly stacked on two plates and fresh steaming coffee sits to the right of their food. He feels honey brown.

"Looks delicious."

"I know the way to your heart." The blonde shrugs.

"It's more of a journey than most bargain for." He laughs quietly.

"Dont worry I've brought my hacksaw and my hiking boots I'm willing to run through Amazonian forests."

"Well that's relieving," He grins around his mug. "I was beginning to think I'd be stranded in my stone tower forever."

"All alone?"

He snorts, "No I've made friends with all manner of being. I can't be alone, you know that." He bites into his pancake, blueberry slipping off his fork with a thudding splash into the syrup.

"I do know." The blonde's voice is all buttery and melting. And the truth that comes with it knocks a new vein into Percy's heart.

They're quiet for a few minutes as they devour their breakfast. When there's mere sips of coffee left he settles back in his chair and regards his friend.

"What manner of entertainment am I providing today?"

"Whatever you want but I'm not leaving the house."

"Oh good I don't know if I can make it ten steps out your door without half crumbling to dust these days."

"You wouldn't."

"Mhmm," He hums distractedly, gaging the weather to decide if they're going to huddle up with movies and far too many blankets or throw playing cards at each other while drowning in lemonade. It's a movie sort of day, he decides.

"You wouldn't turn to dust." Jason is saying. "You're too much god and too much good to die like monsters." There is that silent reading again.

"Maybe I was." Percy shrugs, "Before you know..."

And he doesn't need to add anymore because the big space the catches onto that sentence no matter how much time separates those events from the now still means the same thing. Before Tartarus. Before he made a ventriloquist puppet out of a goddess. Before he became unhinged.

"You are not a monster for protecting yourself. Or others." Golden voice is firm. Solid.

"You may be the only one who knows and thinks that."

"Doesn't matter it's still true."

"Okay enough seriousness." He doesn't have the energy for their circling conversation. "Shall we binge Pirates of the Caribbean?" For a stormy grey second he thinks his friend is going to keep their talk going but then he sees the surrender behind the blue eyes and a part of him unwinds.

"We can." There's a raised eyebrow accompanying the agreement and he knows there's conditions attached. Like a damn insurance plan. "If your promise to let me walk you home this evening."

"My big bad wolf." He teases.

The blonde responds with a low growl that makes his whole body turn a violent azure blue. "Fine. We shall stare at Captain Jack Sparrow and then you can valiantly walk me to my front door and shake hands with my mother."

"Wonderful. Now let's get some blankets down."

Jason smiles as he stretches on his tiptoes to reach the fluffy ones. He feels the soft material under his palm but the there's a hand over his brown one and it's tugging the blanket down. He sticks his tongue out at his friend.

Percy is ocean blue.

[remsmoonlight]

— title : battle scars

— word count : 2.1 k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : during a quick run, you fall into some trouble with some walkers though daryl’s love language is spoken with actions and not words.

— warnings : mentions witnessing death, near death experiencing, extremely minor cursing, mentions of blood and gore

           ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　requested     　/     requests are open    *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

okay so i requested this a while ago to someone else and they said they’d write it but i never found it  and i forgot who i asked so i might of missed it, but maybe a walker grabs readers hair or something so she looks for something to tie it up with and daryl gives her his bandana and she just decides to claim it or some cute shit like that??? it’s okay if you don’t wanna♥️♥️

Shap rays penetrate effortlessly through the barred windows, the tatty scraps of cloth providing little protection against the blinding morning sunshine. You pull your arm to cover your eyes, not quite ready to be released from the grips of your slumber.. the nights before a run have always been the most troublesome. Your mind running through every which way the day could turn out, pleading to your mind to focus on the positive outcomes that are always on the table of possibility. Both the positivity and negativity keeping you awake into the late hours.

The only consolation being when you were gifted the image of a blanket of stars over the dark sky, free from any light pollution that was known among many.

“ time to get your ass up, sleepy head. “

You don’t need to remove the arm that lays heavily draped across your head to know who’s familiar drawl that belongs to. Daryl Dixon. His voice in being a quite distinct quality about him. Though there’s more than that you think humorously as a smirk that lazily snakes its way onto your lips.

“ yeah, yeah. I’m up. “ you respond to him as you find yourself focusing on his form in the doorway, clutching the bed linen that serves as a makeshift door in his grip. Your mind wonders if you’ve ever seen him in a state of inactivity that held no tension .

Members of the group continue to filter into the main hall at a leisurely pace, sleep still clinging to their backs in a losing battle.

Sitting off to the side, your gaze settles to the lone male. Daryl nods from you to the space across from him, a bowl laid across from him.

“ thanks for saving me some breakfast. “ you speak, breaking the silence as you pick up the spoon and lifting a heap of oats onto it. Knowing you would need the energy, of course, the world ending brought a new meaning to breakfast being the most important meal of the day.

“ yeh, don’t need ya collapsin’ on me now. “

Amusement tugged at both corners of your mouth as you peer at him, even after all the time had passed, he still doesn’t want to show how much he cares for the people in the group. Even the newcomers from the Woobury group. Of course, you know.. you see what it means to him see everyone safe, to avoid losing yet another member of his new found family to the rotting fingers of death. The finality of death landing heavier blows on his already bruised heart over again is not something he wishes to fall victim to.

“ you know you’ll never get rid of me, I’ll haunt you from my grave! “ you say, joy lighting up your features as you chuckle, momentarily forgetting your breakfast.

A silence embeds itself comfortably between the two of you, something that becomes less and less awkward every time you find yourself in the vicinity of the man. Human contact and communication had to be quickly developed and it wasn’t long before you became comfortable chatting with everyone as if you had known them for years, but Daryl isn’t completely like those members in your group. He speaks with his actions and it took you long enough to realise that, which is why you found no awkwardness sneaking itself around your throat to force words to fall from your lips unwillingly.

“ so, where are we going first? “

“ ‘saw there was a sports store a few miles out a few days ago. they’ll have some’a those bike chains for those fences. “

Nodding in response, you understand it’s nothing more than a simple task. Though, nothing is truly simple now, even something so minor can cost you your life. The first few days you had spent up at the quarry were plagued with nightmares, every day when you saw the sun begin to dim roused a deep fear that bled into your heart, opening a deep pit in the bottom of your stomach, thinking about the rotting corpses and the frenzied deaths of those you loved. The night time cradled your worst moments, to have to close your eyes and to only be left alone with your thoughts would haunt you endlessly.

Shaking your head to yourself, you rid yourself of that dark energy clouding above you. You have dedicated a lot of time and drive to make progress, it’s not something you yearn to be thrown away as if it were nothing.

“ are we going to pick anything else up, or is it just those? “

“ nah, no use gettin’ ourselves killed. “ he responds, focusing on eating breakfast.

You nod your head swiftly, you certainly can’t argue with that logic! Knowing others have lost their lives or have been horribly injured attempting to go the extra mile.

“ well, I won’t be disagreeing with that plan. quick and simple. “

“ sounds like.. “

He lifts his line of sight to stare at you as his sentence trails off into silence, a passing moment crawling along almost uninterrupted before the realisation of what he meant erupted in your mind. He’s talking about you!

“ that’s so rude! “ you say with wide eyes, creasing up and shaking with laughter.

“ I ain’t wrong. “

Even Daryl begins to ease up and chuckle to himself, a small part of him had been cowering in the corner thinking that his words may have been too offensive, even for you. But seeing the sparkle in your eyes as you find amusement is enough to banish it permanently.

The two of you leave the confines of the prison, your arms are locked around his midsection as you are settled behind him on the motorcycle. The speed of it hit a steady pace, the scenery around you nothing more than passing blurs merging into a melting pot of Earth tones.

Slowing to a stop, the two of you get off the bike and make your way into the abandoned store, your eyes scan it in its entirety. Confidence fills you in the thought that it is older than you and definitely had seen better days. Dirt and grime lined the structure from the bottom, sliding up the walls to the top of it. Your brows burrow in repulsion, though surely it can’t be as bad as the prison. Or how it used to be..

“ stay back. “

You watch as he bangs a hand against the grungy window, hardly anything could be seen through the layer of dirt that had made its home there. A visual picture certainly would not be helping either of you this time.

It took around two minutes for a series of slams against the windows to startle you, your heartbeat begins to speed up slightly at the suddenness of the noise. Even when you’re expecting the arrival of walkers, they still manage to catch you off guard. The two of you nod to one another, you move to open the door for four walkers to pile out. Your attention is kept to the two who made a beeline for your body. You step backwards with your knife now in your hand, hoping to create distance between the two of them for you to be able to stab one of them.

One of them grabs your shoulders, immediately your hand goes to shove one of its away from yours. Momentarily it loses grip and trips into you, luckily your hand with the knife is faster than you realise and you feel the resistance its skull and brain give you but you’re stronger and ensure it hits the mark. The change is instantaneous, the walker descends quickly, taking you with it. All your strength and fight is dedicated to pushing the dead weight off of you, your arms make progress as it falls next to you with a thud.

Scrambling to the space next to you to retrieve the knife still sleeping snugly within its head, your breath is ragged from the physical exhaustion and stress of the situation. Your eyes are wide with fear and it takes more strength than you realise to pull it out with a sickly squelch, a darkened liquid coats the once shining blade. Though you have little time to study its form before you feel fingers clawing at your hair, the surprise causes you to drop the knife and your hands to move towards the decaying ones who have secured their grip.

Screams erupt from your lips as your fingers move upwards, pushing what you guess is the walker’s snapping mouth that feels so close. Close enough that you’re unable to distinguish if the breaths you feel close to your neck is from the walker or your imagination. Never before had you felt like a prey animal before, you’re too close to death for your liking, you’d seen people turn from being bitten and to be seconds away fills you with dread. Your fight becomes less and less by the passing second, your body is too tired to fight itself and the walker at the same time, incapacitation is becoming your reality.. warning to confront you one step at a time.

One moment all you can hear are snarls and a warm pain that shoots through the roots of your hair, the next it feels like time has stopped. The grip that was once securely locked is now absent, you don’t know where to look.. all you know is you don’t want to look behind you.

“ y’alright? “

Your sight moves upwards, squinting as you take in the face in front of you. It’s Daryl.

“ uh, I -- “ your voice breaks at the end as you reply, shock overwhelming your body. You drop your head towards the ground in disturbance, refusing to allow your emotions to spiral, you focus on a spot on the ground.

Daryl moves towards you, his gaze checking you over, though begins to search through your hair to make sure the walker has not scratched or punctured your skin with its filthy teeth. Seeing you in that state with the walker so close to dimming your light pushed him, pushed him to fight harder than he has with a few walkers. He knew he could have sent a bolt through its skull, but rage filled his entire being as it drove him. Sending him in its direction and sending a blade through it with his entire force.

“ hey, it didn’t get ya. y’hear me? it didn’t get ya. “ he says, bringing your attention back to him. Though whether it was confirmation more for his benefit or yours, he can’t tell.

“ I never even.. I knew, I.. “

“ y’ain’t got your battle scar yet. “

“ not with you around, luckily. “ you reply with a shake of your head, a soft tone is all you can muster in that minute.

Even in spite of yourself and how you feel, a light chuckle coming from you dusts the air gently as if it never occurred. Shaking your head with a smile that barely registers you push yourself onto your knees and make a move to stand. He’s there to help you up, a tender force clutches your upper arm that you almost fail to associate with him.

The both of you share the same thought unknowingly, that your entire being feels nothing but sensitivity. Shock from enduring the ordeal leaving your body made from nothing more than glass that could shatter at a moment’s notice.

“ hey.. “

A bandana is dangling in front of your vision, confused, you take it into your fingers. Your touch feels the rough material as you run your fingertips across it. Like a light bulb, understanding lights your features up with the power of a thousand suns. Your hair is gathered over to one side, collected to form something of a braid now rests over your shoulder.. with the bandana keeping it together.

“ thank you, Daryl. “ gratitude coats your words, you are extremely thankful for his intervention “ this is mine now though.. “ you inform him, a hand moving to finger the material that now has a new home in your hair.

“ yeah, y’wish. “

“ I meant what I said though, thank you. if you weren't here I’d be one of them. “ a sigh from your mouth releases, a shudder crawling its way through yourself. The shake being easily visible.

“ that ain’t ever gonna happen, I ain’t gonna let it. “

A dull smile pulls at the corners of your lips, a sadness coating your expression at his words. Moving towards him gradually, your arms slide around his midsection. Knowing that those promises can’t always be fulfilled, but that’s Daryl a thought crosses the centre of your mind. He always wants to save everyone. You barely register the light weight of two palms on your back, but a warm light grows in size within you at the realisation.

“ you can let this bandana be mine though.. my good luck charm when you’re not around. “

“ fine. “ Daryl gives in, a hint of laughter in his response as he speaks to you.

[mammons-tax-returns]

HDJXKDKFF I KNOW I HAVE REQUESTS BUT I NEEDED THIS PLEASE FORGIVE ME THIS WAS SO TIME CONSUMING AND FOR WHAT>> TO SATISFY MY DYSPHORIA/fA<>>A???

synapsis ; Satan and MC often discuss the plot lines of their favorite books, but this time, it’s a little bittersweet

✖️MALE MC✖️ comfort, kinda sad, fluff?

MC could practically feel the past few sleepless nights tugging at his limbs. He yawned into his hand. “I probably shouldn’t have pulled an all nighter last night, huh?” He chuckled a little to make light of the situation.

Satan sighed helplessly, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes. “I told you this would happen. You’d better watch yourself before I force you to get proper hours of sleep.” His emerald eyes never left the pages of his most recent favorite novel series.  “Lucifer isn’t as worried for your grades considering you won’t be here for as long as us.”

“That’s true...  But even still, I wouldn’t want to disappoint Luci.” MC rubbed his eyes a bit before responding.

There was only a scoff in response from the blonde, along with mutters definitely slandering his older brother.

“But never mind that.  Wanna update me on your book?” MC grabbed his own book from the table to his side and took a seat on Satan’s bed.  He has learned from experience that Satan read books far beyond his comprehension level-- far beyond the comprehension level of some of the smartest demons as well.  But the plots are interesting enough that listening to Satan relay the insights to him has become a hobby. 

“Well....  Amanthy ends up saving the prince from the monster right in the nick of time, but get this;  the two of them don’t get married.”  MC finally gets to see Satan’s eyes when he looks up in mild excitement.  They’re blazing so brightly that it nearly burns him as he watches them.  This normally happened when Satan was allowed to rant about a book.

“Amanthy calls off the marriage because he didn’t think that the prince was strong enough to be with him on his journey.  I really recommend you reading this part at the very least.  Now that you know what’s actually happening in it, you can focus on how incredibly this author deepens the understanding of Amanthy and his intents.”

Amanthy...  Would you really end it all just like that?  MC found himself wondering.  It must have been the fact that MC projected him and Satan onto the two ex-love birds in the novel.  Amanthy was clearly a sophisticated book-loving mage similarly to Satan, and the prince was a simple man in a foreign world trying to figure everything out.  Just like MC being thrown into the Devildom.  Together, the two fought and travelled together.

As childish as it is, MC was hopeful that they would end up together in the end, just because of his crush on Satan.  And hearing the news about their wedding almost felt like a personal attack.

He can’t respond immediately.  “Oh.” He breathes, “That’s surprising...  I, uh.  Did not expect that.”  A small laugh.  How was he supposed to answer?

“I feel the same.  It was not hinted at in the slightest...”  Satan held his chin between his thumb and index finger.  “But I understand Amanthy.  I mean, looking at it realistically...  The prince had his sword, and even with the little magic he had, surely he could have fought the beast instead of waiting for it to kill him...  Amanthy is a strong man, and I’m not sure how well he’d hold up being with someone like that.”

“Hmm.  Interesting...  This whole plot was just one turn after another.  You really have an eye for good books...  The beginning of that story was a bit slow.” MC tried to seem as invested as possible.  But it was proving to be much more difficult than it seemed.  Although he knew Satan can’t be held accountable for something like this...  Does he really think that Amanthy was in the right?

There was a knot forming in the very bottom of his stomach.  So then, would he do the same thing in that situation?  Would he really drop me if he had to save me like that?

“The story certainly did pick up speed...  Even I was impressed.  But it truly added to the character development!  Amanthy is a smart man for what he did, and he’s really selling it to me.  I wonder if that shopkeeper from the last chapter will reappear...”  He flipped several pages back as if to see if it was hinted at anywhere.  “She looked like a better fit for our bookworm protagonist...  Or maybe he’s better off on his own?”

MC’s mood just seemed to be going down a never ending decline.  The shopkeeper?  Who was literally everything that he wasn’t?

Satan continued before MC could comment, “The prince was always a bit of a dead weight, I can admit.  There were times that I found myself criticizing him for little things, but never fully disliked him...  Although there was much more to him than his exterior, I suppose.”

Okay, now this was a full blown call out post for MC.  The prince getting called a dead weight for the protagonist?  Suddenly, MC constantly having to be reminded by Satan to sleep seemed a little more daunting.

“So that’s how you look at it...” MC hummed and buried his face in his book, careful with his phrasing and hoping that the intuitive male in front of him couldn’t pick up on his hurt.

“Of course...  How would you see it?” Satan leaned a little closer.

This man will be the end of me, and he won’t even know it.

MC cleared his throat and shifted a little out of discomfort. “I mean...  I guess I sympathize with the prince a little.  He hasn’t really gotten the chance to protect himself...  A-And that’s the first time he’s been left with such a powerful beast, right?  Just a few weeks ago, he was in his castle watching the knights spar, and now he’s here defending himself alone.” Don’t seem suspicious, MC.  You got this.  You can do this at the very least, can’t you?  “Amanthy had a good connection with him.  I can’t believe he’d just overlook that because the prince needs help understandably.  I mean, isn’t that what a lover is for?  To love and support?”

Satan’s lips tugged into a simple smile.  “Ahh, so that’s how it is.  I’m surprised you can pay so much attention right now when you’ve barely slept.  You could barely keep your eyes open earlier.” He playfully ruffled MC’s hair.

His affectionate touch stung, and his words stabbed deep into MC’s core.  He knew no harm was meant, and yet he couldn’t help but feel horrible.  Why couldn’t he just listen to Satan’s nagging?

“But your opinion is just as strong as mine!” MC added quickly, hoping that Satan didn’t think he was disregarding him.  “Maybe calling off the wedding was the right choice in the end...  After all, the prince was kinda shady in the first few chapters right?  Maybe he’ll prove to be the bad guy.”

Satan seemed to think it over for a moment.  “ I suppose...  But the prince is a bit more respectful than that, don’t you think?”

And now he’s defending the prince?  Make up your mind already, MC silently thought.

“Y-Yeah, I guess so...” Am I as respectful as him, someone of literal royalty? MC breathed out slowly.  Even if I am, what difference does that make, Satan?

Some time passed after that, and MC couldn’t get passed a single page in his book.  His mind was a confusing jumble of thoughts.  Some of them hoped that Satan would react differently if proposed the same situation.  And some justified Amanthy’s decision in a sickening submission to his situation.  His ‘situation’ is an inevitable unrequited love for Satan.  And now he’s aware that Satan probably wouldn’t consider someone like him as a spouse even if given the chance.  Great.

“MC?  If you’re tired you should sleep.”

The (H/C) haired male jumped.  He looked up to see Satan way too close for comfort at the moment.  He felt himself flush.  “I’m not!  This story is too interesting for that.”

“You haven’t turned a single page.  And you looked a little scary.” Satan chuckled.  “Is it Lucifer?  Is that rat stressing you for your grades?”

“Well, no...  It’s just,” Phrase this properly, please. “I’m all hung up on that whole marriage situation.  If...  If you had to make that decision, would you call off the marriage too?”

Satan had a look of shock.  “Hmm...  I guess I hadn’t considered that.”  He thought for a second. “I don’t think I would.  I may have chosen Amanthy’s side, but I’m not him.”

Geez, that’s a big relief.

“But what about you?  Would you do the same?”

Okay, now that was unexpected.  MC blinked.  “I definitely wouldn’t have.  You heard my piece earlier.  I wouldn’t leave someone just because they were incapable of things like that.”

...  Was that too much information?

“Really...  Interesting.” Satan leaned back into the cushions on the seat.  “It’s almost spellbinding how similar you are to him, and yet you two have such different ideals.”

“Yeah...” MC answered subconsciously.  “And it really--...  Wait.  Come again?”

How similar I am to Amanthy?  No.  I must have heard wrong.  It just doesn’t make sense.  There’s no way that he would compare me to someone as great as-

“I must have never mentioned it, but I tend to project the people I know onto storybook characters.”  He seemed a little bashful, as he couldn’t quite make eye contact with MC.  “Amanthy is a very selfless mage that happens to have a habit of staying up for days on end to finish his studies.  He...  He reminds me of you.”  A small tinge of pink crawled onto his cheeks. “Sometimes, it also feels like you’re the protagonist of a great story, too.”

MC was flabbergasted.  This conversation is hitting him harder than the actual plot of the book being discussed.  “Th-Then, who do you see as the prince?”  This wasn’t adding up.  He couldn’t imagine who it could be if it wasn’t him.

“Me, of course.”  Satan responded without missing a single beat.  “I hate to admit it, but as the youngest brother, I tend to...  Blow things out of proportion.  And the others say it’s because I haven’t experienced the same things as them.  I don’t quite understand it...  But I guess I really don’t need to.”  He looked lost in his own mind as he explained.

He continued as MC struggled to put everything together. “The prince was told many of the same things I have heard.  But I think the reason I relate to him so largely is because I also feel little out of place, as many of his monologues describe my exact feelings so often.”

“Out of place..?  Why is that?” MC’s words left his mouth before he could consider them.  “Err, if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine.”

“No, It’s nice to get things like this off of my chest occasionally.”  He paused briefly. “I guess I’m just not used to someone understanding me quite like you do.  Don’t get me wrong, It’s not bad at all.  It’s just a bit...  Odd to me.  Sometimes I wonder if I deserve it.”

“Satan...  Of course you do.  Otherwise I wouldn’t have taken the time and indulged in the same things as you.” MC felt his heart throb.  Of course Satan would look into the story from a metaphorical stance rather than literal, like he did.  He was the one actually reading the pages, after all.  That’s just the type of person he is.  There’s no real beast in this story in his eyes.  The prince was just Satan stuck in his own thoughts.

“But...  Surely, this doesn’t mean that you thought I would have made the same choice as Amanthy, right?”

Satan hummed.  “You’ve got me unraveled under your fingertips, MC.  But you’d be mistaken...  I did.  But even if something like that ever happened, I don’t think I’d let you go quite as easily as the prince did.”  His smile had hints of mischief in it.  “You’re stuck with me.”

MC’s eyes widened a little.  There was so much information to take in at once.  “Well...  Rest assured, then?”

“Agreed.”  Satan nodded. “I’m just hoping you won’t get fed up with having to constantly calm me down before a wreck a building.”  He laughed, but it seemed sad, in a way.

Ahh...  So that’s just it.  Satan was insecure about something that I don’t mind helping him with a thousand times over.  MC found himself smiling.  Demons were much more similar to humans than he thought.

“That’s a bit cute, Satan.”

“What’re you on about?”

MC reached over and pat the top of his head in the way he knows he enjoys it.  “I wouldn’t let you go so easily, either.  I’m not Amanthy, and you’re not the prince.  You’re gonna have to try a little harder to get rid of me.”

Satan was frozen in the spot.  He suddenly understood what Levi’s shows would describe when they said, “time seemed to slow, and nothing else mattered other than him.”

“I don’t think I’d ever dream of it...”

For the first time ever, he felt as if he was receiving his very own happy ending in his own novel.