#because i used to have nightmares like this

[valalice]

ꪆৎ restless.

cw. fluff. smut nsfw. fem!reader. established relationship (ya'll are so in love). canon divergence. porn with a little bit of plot. sub!ellie. fingering & tit play/sucking (e!receiving). slight body worship. ellie is called pretty girl :3

ellie’s body twists and turns. she’s been at it since the moment the two of you decided to settle for the night, migrating from the couch downstairs to the bed upstairs. on any other night upon resting her head on the plushness of her pillow, ellie would’ve been knocked out; that was the magic of your guys’ bed worked, but evidently its magic had run out this night.

with a flop onto her side, a sigh huffs from ellie’s parted lips, her tongue darting out to swipe along her chapped lips as the alarm clock settled on her nightstand reads 3:44 a.m.

it’s as if your conscious could sense her frustration when your warm body flushes against her back, settling against ellie you lift a leg over her hip. “can’t sleep?”

guilt immediately pings within ellie’s chest at the hoarseness of your voice; she had woken you up with her restless stirring, she knows she has because she’s done it countless times before. and regardless of each time it happens, whether the nights are eerily repetitive because she’s had the same nightmare again or she’s scrambling in the bed, jerking to pull open the drawer to her nightstand to pull out the tattered sketchbook and pen, scratching whatever image had just flashed through her adventurous mind; you're always there to sooth her, and she feels guilt.

“it’s nothin’.” she blatantly lies, she knows you can tell because she's never been the best liar, her voice wavers towards the end of her sentences when she does. a dead giveaway that even she doesn't believe her words.

your arm comes to rest in the divit of ellie’s hip, taking the hem of her shirt in between your fingers, feeling the soft fabric before you plunge your hand beneath the material to lay flat against her stomach. enacting a shiver that subsides as you use gentle force to pull her further into you, wishing to morph into one.

“i thought we got past lying?” your voice laced with teasing a manner you hope she catches. nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the soft linen and the remnants of her woodsy soap lingering on her skin, it's a smell you know as home.

a shiver travels down her spine once more as you exhale. “we did.” she knows she's not giving you much to work with. and she knows that response was a bit snappy, but she's working on it. she's been working on it, old ways die hard, is what she's learned.

“so, talk to me, els. i’m no mind reader.”

she puffs air, returning back to her stirring ways, but this time to twist in your grasp to face you, your limbs becoming further entangled. “i’m jus’ frustrated is all.”

in any other moment you would've flicked your girlfriend’s forehead. you could tell something had her worked up without needing to see her face, but now that you have, her freckled face remains solemn and her eyes sunken from the lack of sleep. “with?” you egg her on, itching closer to decoding the puzzle that is ellie’s inability to outwardly express herself in moments like these.

ellie's eyes shift to anywhere but your face. focusing on the twinkle of moonlight that cascaded in while the night winds whistle a sing into the bedroom from the cracked window. this should calm the beating in her ears from the thumping of her heart, but as long as your touch persist on her, she knows she'll never fully be calm; it'll just ignite the low flames in the pit of her stomach to full blazing hot fire. "ellie." the sound of your voice grounds her, but her gaze still fights yours.

you hand springs from beneath her shirt, raising it to rest against her cheek, your palm warm from the heat radiating off her body. "look at me, baby." coercing her head so that she's finally looking you in the eyes, your gaze soft, and voice even softer, she hangs onto that word—baby. she cracks.

"i need you." it's nearly inaudible, her words breathy and quick, but you're lucky you caught it. unknowingly your eyebrows had been furrowed, they're released to raise instead, and you can't help the smile that's broken onto your face; it all makes sense now.

"that's all you needed to say." unlike ellie's, your voice was loud, and now honeyed from the hoarseness, but still had an air of lightness, to remind her that it's okay—okay to speak what you want, what you need. pulling her closer to place a sweet peck on her lips, pulling away before ellie gets too ambitious. retracting all limbs from her you pull yourself up to rest against the headboard, getting comfortable for the ride. it's a sight to behold when you turn back to ellie, still laid under the covers, propped up on an elbow as she watches you, chest heaving shallow breaths as she awaits with wide eyes for the next words to fall from your lips. outstretching a hand, "c'mon." kicking off the covers hastily, your hands stretch to rest on ellie's waist as you guide her body to be slotted between your legs, hovering her on your thigh.

her hands reach to cup at your jaw, and you pull her in by the grasp on her waist into a heated kiss, deciding now that you'd settle her down on her thigh, causing ellie to moan into the kiss.

you don't mind giving her what she wants right now, it's the least you could do, really. you'd somehow figure out how to become an engineer to build a spaceship for her, then you'd both become astronauts and explore space like how'd she'd always dreamed—it was a distant dream, but you'd make it reality, and when she's filled with content from the space exploration you'd also create some sick invention to take the moon and shrink it, so that back on earth, in her study she'd have the real (not a replica) of the moon she could examine at anytime of the day. and maybe that would destroy earth in the process, but you'd be too distracted from ellie experiencing happiness to really care.

maybe you're just lovesick as you sallow up ellie's moans, getting high off of pleasure, and that she seeks her pleasure in you; either way you wouldn't have it any other way.

snaking a hand around her front, you fingers leaving light strokes at her clothed clit. ellie pulls away with a gasp, letting her forehead rest against yours, peerkng down between your bodies to watch you, her mouth still agaped.

she still humps at your thigh desperately, the skin below the fabric becoming damp from her arousal seeping through her loose boxers. "'s wet f'me. wanna cum like this? or wanna cum on my fingers?"

your question fogs her brain further. when she flickers her eyes up to yours, you spot that you can barely see the forest-y green of her eyes from how blown out her pupils are, her gaze hazy beneath yours. she just moans when your press your fingers feathery light touch becomes harder. "moanin' isn't an answer." you tease, chuckling when ellie's eyes roll back and her head rolls off from your forehead to fall to rest on your shoulder.

"fingers." she mutters. and you hum, you would've liked a please to follow suit, but you'll let it slide, this time. a throaty whine erupts from ellie when her fingers disconnect from her needy clit, using the once busy hand to push at her hip, wanting her to push herself up from off your shoulder. and when she does you fingers find their way back to the soft cotton of her sleeping shirt, eyeing it as you toy with the hem, biting your bottom lip. looking up through your lashes to eyes eager gaze. "i want this off, first. want to see you." upon your request, ellie is swiftly hooking her fingers under the hem of the shirt to yank it over her head.

the hasty action causes her hair to stick out, it's cute, and you catch yourself chuckling to yourself as you bring your hands up to smooth over her hair. allowing your hands to follow the natural rhythm of her body, hands grazing down her face, down her jaw and neck, nimble fingers ghosting over collarbones, and following the perk of her tits. index fingers smoothing over her pebbled nipples before your hands all together rest below her tits and gently grope at them. "'s pretty." you admire.

flicking your gaze up to the woman seated in your lap, your chest can't help but puff up with love for her. and twisted enough, with pride that you're the one to turn her into a flushed mess, and that it's all only for your eyes. "d'you know how pretty you are?"

"you tell me all the time." she huffs. narrowing your eyes when ellie rolls, so you pinch her nipple, not acknowledging the small jump from her. you don't know whether she rolled her eyes from the fact that you tell her the compliment frequently (guilty as charged) or that she doesn't doesn't fully believe your words when you say it.

"and i mean it." your tone hard. leaning down to press a kiss to her sternum, ghosting you lips over her tits. "so fuckin' pretty." you mumble, not to her, but to yourself. ellie's hands fling to brace herself on your shoulders when you wrap your mouth around her perky nipple. your unoccupied hand sliding down her torso, hooking a finger into the band of her boxers, and thoughts of snapping the band against her skin flashes through your mind, but you just plunge your hands inside her boxers. fingers finding her clit once more, giving it a few needing strokes before dipping your fingers past her dripping folds. you push her straight away when you sink two fingers into her pulsing sopping heat, but she takes it as low moans escape her mouth.

despite your hand being stuffed within her boxers the lewd squelching of her cunt isn't muffled. letting up off her tit with a pop, you rest your chin against her sternum, peering up at ellie's fucked out expression, her eyes scrunched shut, and sobs of pleasure working you up further. you want this for her, you want her to reach her glorious peak more than anything at this moment. "takin' my fingers s'well, baby." you praise. and you show some love to her neglected, achy clit when your thumb begins to work steady circles on the bud.

"please—" she cries, hips bucking up into your hand while you work her on your fingers.

"are you close?" you know the answer to your question. her cunt is clenching around your fingers, and her sweet arousal dribbles down your wrist. but you just want to hear the neediness, the desperation in her voice.

ellie sobs further, her body jerking slightly, the grip she has on your shoulders tightening, sinking her nails into the clothed muscles to stabilize herself. "needa cum," her voice waivers, eyes snapping open when she feels your warm tongue swirling around your nipple. "please."

you think you could cum just from the sight alone of ellie above you, eyes drooping, lips swollen from kisses and tugs, rosy hue to her freckled cheeks. "cum f'me, you deserve it. deserve it so bad, ellie."

her climax crashes over like ocean waves against the heights of a cliff. her body shuttering, slumping into your arms, her cheek falling against your shoulder once more as your work her through her orgasm, mustering up enough energy to place light kisses on your neck. "there you go. did so good, jus' needed to get fucked to get yourself tired enough?"

[grendil9]

Look at the shadow it's so disgusting. If you ever liked Trump I don't trust you. I'm afraid of you.

If there is any truth, it is withheld from us by our masters. What they call anti-intellectualism, is actually just pointing out that everything we're allowed to have is just hoaxes, deceptions perpetuated by golem writers and fooled people. Like we were fooled when we were children.

All of it is made up.

You are probably well-instructed to reject people who say science is based on nothing, and healthcare is based on nothing, but you look into it for a bit and find out that yes, it's all made up. Every new I fucking love science discovery is made up. It's fake. It's written as a joke to fuck with you. All of it.

They call it "anti-intellectualism" when slaves like us figure this out in Russia too and it's a huge problem for hoaxers over there. They shame, shame, shame the people for it. But more and more of them show up in comments sections each year. Shadowban after shadowban.

Probably because the moment a Christian Russian develops two braincells all they have to do over there is take a look around and see that they are the drunken, racemixed, defeated, FOOLED remnants of a conqured people who were wrung dry and destroyed by the Skeksis and their sweet "communism". Of course I wouldn't trust a thing I'm told by Skeksis ever again.

Trusting anything the Skeksis say after that is an evil thing to do when I live next to the graves of my ancestors, who will never be seen in full form again because of their defeat and mixing. I would be so terrified. I would hold on to whatever's left of God's original creation in my blood and mind against every science and truth and fact and fact-checker.

People say they're scared of trump. I agree completely. He's so fucking ugly. He looks SO fucking ugly. He looks disgusting. Putrid. And his sick, wailing voice makes me sick to hear.

All these decisions are too much too quickly, it's scary!

I don't want to take part in any of this at all. I want peace and I want good people to be at peace. But so far it feels like men choose to either become a golem and be "saved" as a slave to monsters, or to be cast into this nightmare world ruled by these beastlike bloated shemales. Confusing and terrifying the children of their slaves with their insane rules and monsterous laws and speeches and words. Hurting us and our children with their madness and nonsense and lies!

It's like hell !!!!!!!!!

Why won't they go away !!!!!!!!!!!!!

There’s a reason these people are fucking stupid and proud of it.

[angsty-art-ist]

part 2 of the NPMD Monster High AU! seriously thank you guys for all the love on part 1, it means a lot that you like my silly hyperfixation crossover :]

a little lore note: in this AU, monsters can use magic to blend in with humans during the day, sort of like in the g3 cartoon. Hatchetfield is kind of split into the normie side and smaller monster side. the monster part of town is magically warded to make humans want to leave quickly, and monsters don’t tend to cross over into the human areas (with the exception of adults with normie jobs, like Mayor Lauter and most of the adult HF cast). Hatchetfield High is a “exclusive private school” in the monster part of town, and the normie teens, like Grace and Max, go to Sycamore.

why are Grace and Max humans if this is a monster AU, you ask? don’t worry, i have plans for them :)

Steph:

she’s a vampire because… well because she’s rich. you’ve heard of old money? these Lauters are ancient money

i had a hard time with her outfit because my main references were Draculaura and Elissabat, who are both very dressy, but i wanted to stay true to Steph’s casual grungy style… and then i remembered The Lost Boys were THEE original grunge vampires, so i mashed David and Paul’s jackets together and gave her a Santa Carla tee as a shout-out

the chains and plaid pattern tie back to Pete’s design, like the plaid of her flannel and his bow tie in the show <3

her father isn’t technically actually a king, but runs Hatchetfield’s monster community like he is one. a close encounter with a band of monster hunters the better part of a century ago forced the monsters into hiding under his command, and Steph’s mother ended up staked. Solomon hasn’t been the same since…

Max:

his design is simpler than the others, but that’s for a reason :) the mansters usually have more boring outfits than the ghouls, so it’s not that out of place for Monster High, right? i plan to make a few more ‘doll lines’ for this au- i’m thinking Dawn of the Dance next ;)

his jacket is based on the G1 varsity jackets that Heath Burns and Slo Mo had in their first waves, but with Max’s iconic blue. i got rid of the Hatchetfield ‘H’ since he goes to Sycamore with the other normies in this AU. go Timberwolves, i guess?

his striped shirt is based on Freddy Krueger’s iconic sweater, because Max in the musical seems to take a lot of cues from Freddy; coming back from the dead to get revenge on his killers, vulgar one-liners, gruesome kills, and even a parody of the Freddy rhyme painted on the set background. one, two, Jäger’s coming for you…

side note but i had a really hard time getting Will’s likeness in this pseudo-MH style. i think he ended up a bit too Bruce Campbell-y. maybe it’s the chin.

Grace:

sorry, Grace, i’m changing your name a bit. if you need a refresher on the G1 MH lore; Van Hellscream is the Monster High expy of Van Helsing. his niece Lilith appears in the Ghouls Rule movie, but i’m stretching out the timeline a bit so let’s say Lilith is Grace’s aunt or something. Chasity is her maiden name, which the family goes by because “Hellscream doesn’t sound very Christian”

these days, the Van Hellscream’s monster-hunting legacy is more of a family legend than history, and her parents don’t even believe that monsters exist… but Grace knows that something unholy is going on at that “private school”. she may not have Great-Uncle Abraham’s arsenal, but she has the power of God and years of repressed rage on her side

design wise she changed the least from her canon outfit. she’s covered in monster-killing weapons- crosses, stakes, silver bullets, and the flowers on her blouse and jeans are alliums, aka garlic flowers- which, fun fact, were originally thought to be what repelled vampires, rather than garlic bulbs!

her blouse is based on Nancy’s nightdress in Nightmare on Elm Street to match with Max’s Freddy stripes

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Just Too Important - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: They're back! They're obsessed with each other! Ben once again is proving that he's the grumpiest old man to ever grumpy old man! Enjoy!

Title from Snooze by SZA

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary/Warnings: You and Ben head to Costco. Takes place about two months post-series.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, Ben being old, pre-established relationship, mentions of smut

There were only five things Ben had ever really fucking loved. Loved with his whole goddamn existence, so much he could probably kill himself with it if he tried.

He’d loved his mom. Loved her in a simple, pure way that he’d probably taken for fucking granted. She had been secure. The only person Ben had known wasn’t going to hate him for being a fuck up or problem. She’d pleaded with his father when Ben had been sent away. Kept in contact with him when she wasn’t supposed to. Still thought of him as just Ben, even when he’d given her every reason not to. Ben had loved his mom because she was his mom. He’d grieved her in drinks and silence when she died, and known that—compared to what he’d been before—she would’ve been proud of him now. Living a life that wasn’t violence and glamour. A life that was just stupid fucking ease and perfection, with a beautiful wife and smart son, in a comfort he’d never imagined he’d get to have.

He loved the movie Legally Blonde. His wife was never allowed to fucking know that.

He loved Ryan. The kid was a fucking genius, and Ben wasn’t sure how the hell Homelander had a single hand in creating him. He was kind and smart and determined, and a purely good fucking person. He’d been born from a long line of deeply fucked men, but he read books and cried when the dog died in a movie. He fucking loved school, and liked people, and tried so hard to be normal that Ben was sometimes worried he’d hurt himself. Ryan never needed to fucking apologize for having powers. He never needed to feel guilt for the shit Homelander had done, and never needed to repent like Ben had. He was just a fucking kid. A kid who sometimes woke up crying because he’d had a nightmare about his father—because they all did—and who’d apologize for waking Ben after. Ben really wished the people he loved would stop fucking apologizing to him.

He loved dancing. His wife already knew that one, but Ben was pretty damn sure she didn’t know just how much he loved it. It was reliable. Simple. Something his mother had made him learn, and something that he could use to make his wife fall into his arms and giggle against his chest. A way to use his body that wasn’t for destruction, an excuse to touch Her until she gave him a perfect, happy smile, and he somehow loved her more.

Because that was the thing Ben loved above every other goddamn thing in the universe. Loved more than the universe. The universe was fucking pathetic compared to how much Ben loved Her. Every single fucking thing about Her. How She smile and laughed and moved through the world. How goddamn kind and clever and perfect She was. All Her big fucking words and Her smart fucking mouth and Her sharp, beautiful features. How She was a fucking brat and a problem, and Ben would never want her any other way, because he was the luckiest fucking pussy in the world for this menace of a woman to love him back half as much as he loved Her. Lucky that She trusted him, looked at him like he was some sort of fucked up savior, and always touched him like she could never do anything better with her hands.

She was perfect. She was a fucking goddess, and every time Ben reminded Her of that she’d flush that pretty color and bury her face in his arm. Right where she goddamn belonged.

You can’t just say that, Ben-

I can say whatever the fuck I want, Sunshine. He’d press a kiss to the top of Her head, squeezing his hold on Her body. I fucking love you, and you’re a goddamn miracle. These pussies should be grateful to be in your goddamn presence.

I think you’re a little bias. She’d mumble between their heads, but Ben would hear the stumble of Her heart, feel her lean further into his body, and he’d smirk.

I don’t fucking care. He’d tangle a hand in Her hair, tugging it back so she was looking at him with wide, blown out eyes.  You’re fucking perfect. 

She’d smile at him, and Ben’s ribs would bloom and glow with how fucking beautiful She was. How She was all fucking his, to care for and tend to and love. For the rest of goddamn time, Ben got to fucking have Her.

You’re such a dramatic cunt, Benjamin.

He’d chuckle. You fucking love it.

And that would be the end of it. Wherever they were, Ben would find a place to fuck Her in peace, she’d cum all over him—filling the room with a million colors and dancing lights, bursting into flame and screaming his name—and Ben would make sure that she understood. Really fucking got that Ben had never been good at loving things, but loving Her was the easiest thing in the goddamn world. That he’d love Her until the world was fucking razed and scorched and She wasn’t there to love anymore.

Even then Ben would probably just fucking follow Her. That might be the only thing that one day got him. If She figured out a way to die, she wasn’t going to do it without Ben at Her side. She was alive inside of him—infinite and holy, fucking stronger and brighter than the goddamn sun—and Ben never wanted to know a life without Her again. 

She’d hate the idea of Ben going just because She went. She’d shove his chest and snap that he’d need to keep living without her, because she loved him too much to want him to die. And Ben would roll his eyes, grumble an agreement, and keep fucking knowing that if they went out, they were going out together.

Everything was so fucking beautiful when Ben had Her to share it with. Without Her he’d just be an old fucking asshole, chasing Her in shadows and songs, sitting at Her grave until he worked out how to turn the stone back into the only person in the world that really fucking mattered.

It was a damn good thing they were both immortal.

The world would not fucking like it if Ben had to keep living without Her.

He’d do anything for Her. He’d burn countless worlds to ash, then rebuild them just for Her to have. He’d refuse to destroy things, because She was good and would never want anyone to be in pain in Her name. If She demanded it, he would keep living, but he’d drive himself mad trying to bring Her back.

He’d learn to raise the dead. To find wherever the fuck She’d gone and pull her back to his side, where he’d keep Her safe and happy and smiling.

Christ, he’d do anything just to make Her smile.

He’d even let Her drag him here, to this massive square building that seemed to be some weird sort of grocery store. 

But Ben didn’t remember grocery stores selling TVs, or mattresses, or toys. Grocery stores didn’t sell watches. Or fucking pills and makeup, just a few aisles apart. 

Where the fuck are we. He muttered between their heads, and She looked back to him with an amused grin.

You drove us here, Ben.

Because I value my goddamn life, Sunshine.

Shut up-

No. He leaned down, kissing the space between Her eyes with a grin. Tell me where we are, brat, or I’ll fuck the answer out of you.

She wrinkled Her nose at him, even as Ben heard Her heart flutter slightly. No obviously public sex, you horny old cunt-

I never said we’d fuck in public, darling. This place is fucking huge, I’d find somewhere private, and then make you all dumb and pretty on my cock. Ben winked at Her, and Christ, she was beautiful. Wide, glossy eyes and a parted mouth, already putty in Ben’s hands just from his fucking words.

We’re at Costco. She said, a little breathless between their minds. It’s a superstore. 

Ben frowned. That didn’t make any damn sense, and he’d have a lot of time to fuck Her later. He needed to understand what in Christ she was talking about. 

What the fuck is a superstore. Did they figure out how to shoot up buildings with V and nobody fucking told me-

She laughed, wrapping Her arms around his neck with a shake of her head. No, Ben, it’s a physically large store that sells, like, everything.

Everything.

Pretty much, yeah. She shrugged. That’s why we’re here.

Ben nodded slowly. For the house.

Exactly. She smiled, Her voice soft and teasing between their minds. Good work, Pretty Boy.

Shut the fuck up, brat. Ben pulled Her half up his chest, kissing her until he got a breathy moan, and leaned back with a smirk. What do we need.

I, um… She blinked at him, her eyes a little glazed as Ben just grinned at Her. Fucking Christ, She was perfect.

Need some help there, Sunshine?

Fuck you-

Ben laughed, squeezing his hand on Her waist. No obviously public sex, darling-

Shut up. She muttered, and Ben’s grin only grew, because She tangled her hand in his and leaned further into his body at the exact same time. I made a list.

A list-

For what we need. And, She shot him a stern look, rising slightly on Her toes to hold his gaze. We’re sticking to it. No buying things we don’t need, just because you see them. 

Ben frowned. Why the fuck would I get shit we don’t need-

Because you’re a child, my love.

I am not a fucking child-

Yeah, you are. She gave him a soft, teasing grin, and Ben really didn’t know how to actually be annoyed with Her. Not when She was so goddamn beautiful, and looking at him with such adoration, and felt easy and happy around his skull. You’re a massive fucking man baby, Benjamin, and you’re going to see something shiny and try to buy it.

Fucking- I’m not a goddamn pussy with no self-

She pulled him into a slow, deep kiss, half climbing up his chest and molding into his arms fucking perfectly, and he groaned. She’d given him a blowjob before they left the house—Ryan was off at school for the day, and She was a horny fucking problem—and Ben could still taste himself in Her mouth. Mixed with coffee and chocolate, and Her. Always just fucking Her, smiling against his lips and safe in his arms. He could feel the cool metal of Her wedding ring when she tangled her fingers in his hair.

They had to finish this shopping shit right now, so Ben could carry Her to the car and fuck her stupid in the back seat.

You’re my man baby, Pretty Boy. She said between their minds, and leaning back to give him a wide, perfect smile. I love you.

I love you too, Ben grunted, leaning down to kiss to Her brow. You fucking brat.

She hummed, Her smile wide and unrestrained on her beautiful face. Ready?

Ben nodded, grabbing Her hand and pressing one last kiss to Her knuckles. There was Her ring. Both of her rings. Physical fucking proof to anyone who looked that She loved Ben. Wanted him. Fucking adored him. 

If She needed Ben for shopping, he’d walk with Her and do whatever she told him to. She’d know what she was doing. She always knew what She was doing, because she was a goddamn force of nature, and if Ben had a say in it, he’d make sure everyone did what she told them all the fucking time.

They didn’t—because most people were stupid fucking dumbcucks that Ben wasn’t allowed to just fucking kill—but they should. All of this post-Homelander shit would be so much easier if everyone would just fucking listen to Her. 

And Ben knew how hard She was working on it. How She was calm and collected when she testified before congress and recounted all the shit that fucking pussy had done to Her, but always fell apart after, sobbing and shaking in Ben’s arms. She’d crawl over his body and bury Her face in his chest, he’d feel fucking sick, and wish he could bring Homelander back to life just to fucking kill him again. Everyone demanded too goddamn much of Her, and she always gave it because she was too fucking good, and if all She asked for was Ben to go shopping with Her, he’d do it a billion fucking times.

Anything to make Her tap her fingers because she was picking out wall colors and not because she had to explain how She’d killed Sage. Anything to make Her flush because Ben was kissing her neck in the lamp aisle and not because a bunch of old fucking pussies wanted unnecessary details about Her alleged relationship with Soldier Boy.

It wasn’t fucking alleged. They were goddamn married. They had a son and owned a house together.

A house they needed to put things in. And decorate. And make theirs. So if that was what this trip was about, Ben could fucking do it. For Her.

It started simple. They needed more furniture, they found it. 

“We already have most of what we need,” She muttered, pulling Ben through the store. “It’s mostly decorations now. If you see something you like-“

“I’ll like whatever the fuck you like.”

She let out a long sigh. “That not helpful-“

Ben grunted Her name, spinning Her around in his arms and dropping his brow to Her’s. 

“Ben-“

“Listen to me.” He held Her gaze, drawing firm circles in her hips. “I could give a fuck what our house looks like, as long as you like it, and there’s no goddamn blue.”

“But it’s your house too-“

“I don’t fucking care.” He grunted. “I’ve told you, Sunshine, we could be living in a fucking dumpster, and I’d be good.”

She scanned over Ben’s face, and sighed. “Can you promise you’ll at least try to find one thing you want?”

“Deal.” Ben kissed Her, dipping her slightly in his arms and keeping Her tucked to his side when they pulled apart.

For Her, he’d try to find one thing. It couldn’t be that fucking hard. This place was huge. 

At first, there was nothing. She had opinions on the colors and style of their house, and Ben mostly just watched Her be perfect and smart and happy, grumbling low agreements and kissing Her until she smiled whenever he got the chance. That was what he cared about. Not whatever the fuck rustic or sleek meant. Not about what shade of green their bedroom should be, or if they should have the bird or sunset painting, or if a glass vase was better than a ceramic one. 

“Just lie and pretend you have an answer-“

“No. I don’t fucking lie to you-“

“It’s a vase, Ben. I’m not going to freak out and burn the building down because you lie about liking a vase-“

“I don’t give a fuck about the vase.” He snapped. “My job is to buy you the damn flowers-“

“Well,” She raised Her brows, giving him a pointed look. “Where can I put the flowers, if I don’t have a vase?”

Ben scowled. “Smartass.”

“You love it.” She gave him a sweet smile, and he really fucking did. “Choose a vase, Pretty Boy.”

Ben rolled his eyes, glaring between the options, and decided they were both fucking stupid. “No.”

“Benjamin-“

“Get that one.” He pointed to a third, smaller one. It was the same color as Her eyes, and had little golden patterns. He didn’t hate it. “It’ll fit on the dresser.”

She paused, tapping Her fingers on Ben’s arm, and nodded slowly. “Okay.” She gave him a wider, purely fucking adoring smile, and Ben felt his whole body grow radiant. “Thank you.”

“Don’t.” He grumbled, kissing the side of Her head, and a dam broke inside of him. 

Suddenly, Ben had a lot of fucking opinions. A red carpet would look fucking stupid in the living room, and Ben didn’t want a weird, twisting lamp on his bed stand. They’d get the shower curtain with little octopuses—octopi, Benjamin—because they made Her smile, but Ben would give MM a fucking blowjob before he used as towel with ducks on it.

“But they’re cute-“

“No.” Ben snapped, grabbing a stack on plain, monotone towels, and dumping them into the cart. “They’re fucking towels, Sunshine, they only need to dry us off.”

“I know, but look at them!” She held the ducks up, giving Ben a pretty pout that was designed to fucking kill him. “Please? Just one?”

Ben scowled. She knew what the fuck She was doing. Looking so fucking beautiful and leaning into his body and making Her sharp eyes soft just for him. He couldn’t say no to Her. He’d never really want to, anyway. Not when he grabbed the towel, tossed it in the cart, and Her smile had the same effect as fucking heroine.

“One.” He grunted. “Because I fucking love you, brat, you get one.”

She kept smiling at him, holding his face between Her hands and kissing him right on the nose. “Thank you, my love-“

Ben rolled his eyes, and dragged Her into a longer, firmer kiss. Until She was a sighing and humming and melting into him, before grabbing Her hand and tugging her to the next isle.

They got shampoo—Ben tried to pick his own out, She looked like she was going stab him or set him on fire, and he decided to let Her handle that shit—a bunch of picture frames, and a lot of useless decorative shit that they didn’t need. Small potted plants that would have to be kept out of the bedroom, a fuck ton of books that She’d probably already read, and some nice, dark green plates. 

Ben took over for groceries—that might be the only place in the world where She didn’t know what the fuck she was doing—and he kept it simple. Pancakes. Ice cream. Bagels. Strawberry cream cheese. Coffee. Chocolate. Something called Lunchables that Ryan seemed to like. Apple sauce, because on worse days that was all Ben could get Her to eat, and he’d be damned if he let Homelander keep haunting them like that. Whiskey. Burger patties-

“You know there’s only three of us, right?” She was hanging off of Ben’s arm, giving him an amused look as he tossed a second bag of apples into their slightly overflowing cart. “And we can come back if we host dinner with the team.”

Ben frowned. “You told me Butcher was hosting-“

“He is. I’m saying that’s why we don’t need so many-“

“We need to be fucking prepared.” Ben muttered. “Shit happens, Sunshine, and I’ll be fucking damned if I let us go hungry-“

Ben.

He grunted Her name, glancing down to see open, obvious amusements painted over Her pretty features. 

Are you fucking Cold War prepping.

Shut up.

She snorted. Holy shit, you are-

I said shut the fuck up. We need to be goddamn careful, and it’s my job to make sure you and Ryan are safe-

That’s not your job, Ben. She sighed, giving him a soft smile that lit up his whole fucking body. But, if it was, you already do an amazing job, without being an old, paranoid dinosaur. And remember, She squeezed his hand, raising Her brows slightly. Ryan’s literally invulnerable, and I fuck an atomic bomb every day. We’d be fine.

Ben scowled, but put the third bag of apples back. We fuck at least three times a day.

I know. I’m there.

You fucking start most of it-

You’re just proving my point, Pretty Boy.

Shut up.

From there, She made him go look at fucking pants and shirts. Only so She could send Neuman orders for their specialized, supe-proof clothing, but still needing Ben’s actual fucking opinions. He didn’t fucking care about clothing, and he trusted Her with his fucking life, so she ended up making most of the choices as Ben grunted in approval. 

They were almost done. And this had been fun—he’d never tell Her that, but he was also pretty damn sure she knew—but Ben wanted to go the hell home. To drop all this shit in the doorway, carry Her upstairs, and fuck Her until she screamed his name so loud all the glasses in the house fucking broke. 

All that was left was getting something called a Roomba.

“What fuck is that thing.” Ben muttered, frowning at the metal disc in Her hands. It just looked like fucking junk.

“It’s a robot.”

“A fucking what.”

“Robot. Robot vacuum. It’ll clean the floor-“

“That circle is going to clean the floor-“

“Yep.” She glanced at the label on the shelf. “Do you think we need max power? I don’t really know what average power would do- Ben-“

He’d grabbed the robot—fucking robot—from Her, and was examining it. He didn’t know what the hell he was looking for, only that he wasn’t finding it.

“Ben-“

“This thing is not a fucking robot.” He muttered. “Robots aren’t real.”

“They very much are real, old man.”

“There’s not a chance in fucking hell this thing can clean a floor-“

“Well, it does.” She took the circle back, placing it into the cart and giving Ben a teasing look of disbelief. “Are Roomba’s really going to be the thing that gets you about the 21st century?”

He scowled. “They’re not fucking real, Sunshine-“

“Benjamin, my love.” She moved to stand right before him, holding his gaze to Her’s with amusement dancing all over Her perfect face. She was so fucking beautiful. “You can throw nuclear energy with your brain, pick up trucks with one hand, and I’ve seen you jump off a building without flinching. We’re fuck-buddy-brain-connected. When I orgasm, I make both of us hallucinate. This,” She pointed to the so-called robot. “Cannot be the thing that gets you.”

Shut up, brat. Ben rolled his eyes, kissing the back of Her hand before glaring around the rest of isle. Are all of these things fucking robots.

No, these are just normal vacuums.

Does this place have other robots.

Yeah, probably.

Ben’s eyes narrowed. Where.

———————

You’ve made a grave error.

You don’t think you’re ever going to leave this Costco. 

After the Roomba, you’d shown Ben robotic litter boxes, and drones, and a smart speaker. You’re pretty sure that’s where you’d went wrong. 

“This thing can hear me?”

You’d nodded, watching him with a small smile you were having a hard time fighting. To any passerby, Ben would’ve looked furious, but you know him. Know that right now, his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes meant that he was shocked and confused. 

It helped that you could feel it, pricking on his skin and cloudy around his head. It was kind of adorable. 

“It can hear all of us.”

He’d scowled. “Why the fuck is it listening-“

“So you can tell it what to do. Here, look- Alexa? Play Steely Dan.”

“Playing- Steely Dan.”

Low music started to fill the space, and you’d had to bite your cheek to stop the snort at Ben’s expression. He’d looked like he’d been shot. It had been adorable. 

And now, two fucking hours later, you didn’t think you’d ever get sick of that expression on his face. He was like a five-year-old loose in a candy shop, walking from aisle to aisle and asking you grumbling questions about various technologies and appliances. If you’re being honest, the only time you’ve seen him look close to this was whenever he’d fuck you. It was a similar expression of pure, raw joy and wonder, but devoid of all the darkened, animalistic need. 

“What the fuck are these?”

“Security cameras.” 

Ben frowns. “They look like fucking doorbells.”

“They’re both.” You say, resting your head against his chest, and he nods slowly.

“We should get one.”

“Ben-“

“For fucking safety, Sunshine, it would be damn insane not to have cameras when all those fucking pussy Homelander supporters are still out there-“

“I agree, my love.” You smile at him, forcing yourself not the climb into his arms as his concrete concern and resolve wrap around you. “That’s why I asked Hughie to install some already.”

Ben pauses, something hot and sore flaring on his skin. “Why the fuck did you ask Hughie.”

“He’s a tech nerd, and Annie said he’d know the best ones to get.” You kissing the underside of Ben’s jaw, humming against his skin. Next time, I’ll ask you, Benjamin. It’ll be so fucking funny to watch you try to install them.

Ben scowls, adoration flaring in his chest as the soreness eases, and you manage to walk him away from the doorbells. 

Most of the afternoon has mostly become walking Ben away from things. For some stuff, it’s easy. Noise canceling headphones wouldn’t work on him. You don’t need a slightly larger TV, because your current one is perfectly fine. You don’t have the space for a hot tub.

“What about these.” He points to the third golf set, and you sigh.

“Ben, you hate golf. You’ve told me it’s a weak fucking pussy sport.”

“And it fucking is, but these things can be damn good weapons-“

“We are not buying weapons.”

“What if someone fucking breaks into the house with a gun-“

“You and Ryan are bullet proof, and I can’t be killed-“

“What if it’s a fucking supe-“

“Then you can blast them with your special sauce, and they won’t be a supe.” You wrap your arms around him, raising your brows. “We’ll be fine, Ben. No golf clubs.”

He scowls, and moves on. 

From the golf clubs. And the iPad, and other security cameras, and air hockey table.

But other things are harder. 

Because you make a second mistake. You agree with him that you should buy a generator, because it’s practical. But what Ben learns is that you can say yes to things. And now you have an ice cream maker, an air fryer, a truly unreasonable amount of batteries, and lawn sprinklers.

And a vibrator, because Ben had grabbed it, shoved it into the cart, and raised his brows in a silent challenge.

You’d sighed. Ben, I don’t need-

I’m going to have to travel, Sunshine-

I know, but I think I can keep it together until you get back to fuck me yourself.

Or. Ben had winked at you, and you felt his hunger spread in your gut. We could do that Zoom shit, you could imagine that thing is me. He’d lowered down, starting to leave wet, sloppy kisses up your neck. And I could tell you exactly how I’d want to fuck you. How I’d play with that perfect fucking pussy until you were begging for me, then I’d stuff that smart fucking mouth with my cock and start to finger fuck you, make your squirt on my hand while you choke on my dick-

You’d buried your face in his chest, muffling your whimper in his shirt. Jesus fucking Christ, Ben-

You like that, darling? Like thinking about how I fill you up, how fucking good I pound into that pussy, how I make you cum on my cock and hands and face-

You’d agreed to buy the vibrator, but mostly because if he had kept talking, you might have climaxed just from Ben’s voice.

You should’ve left Costco an hour ago.

But Ben still doesn’t seem to be done yet.

“How the fuck are they doing that.” He mutters, poking remote and watching the LEDs shift from green to pink to yellow for the fifth time. 

“Semiconductors.” You say, trying not to look like such a dopey, lovesick idiot as you smile at him. “We do have to go home soon. Ryan’s almost done with school.” 

Ben grunts, grabbing one of the LED light strings and holding it up for you to see. 

You take it from him, kiss his cheek—your lips barely brushing his beard before he’s moving you to his mouth, and you almost fall over—and place the box in the cart.

The total amount of money you’ve spent today is disgusting, but the grin on Ben’s face makes it worth it. All of this is so fucking worth it, because you’re happy in such an average, normal way. You’re happy because Ben’s happy—glowing and furious in your whole body—and he’s everything. He grabs you a chocolate bar in the checkout isle without you asking, and insists unloading everything into the trunk himself.

“Go wait in the car, Sunshine-“

You shake your head, trying—and failing—not to gawk at him. So goddamn handsome the broad daylight, muscles flexing as the moves bag after bag, all yours to climb like a tree when you get home-

You won’t have to get until your get home.

Ben chuckles as you stare at him, and the moment the last bag is in the car he grabs you by your wrist, tugging your back into his chest and slamming his lips down to yours. It a rough, heavy kiss that probably isn’t appropriate for a parking lot, but you can’t really bring yourself to care. Ben’s love is strong and focused and everything in the world that matters. He’s swaying you back and forth in his arms, grinning as he nips at your lower lip and tugs a little at your hair, and you don’t think you’re ever going to get enough of him. Of how forceful and bloody and devout his love is, just in broad daylight when you’ve done nothing but smile at him. 

When he pulls away, neither of you bother to fully separate. Ben grins at you, and you smile at him, and when he brushes a little hair away from your face you do the only thing you can think of, and kiss him again. Softer this time, moving your hands to hold his face, allowing yourself to feel so purely safe and warm in the best place in the world. In Ben.

Because you know this will never fade. The love for him in your body that only grows more and more powerful with every passing moment. That you’ll always feel Ben’s love for you, no matter if you’re resting in heaven—caged between Ben’s body and a bed, sleeping or fucking or just smiling at him—breaking down in a hell you’ve visited countless times in life and will visit more in sleep, or standing somewhere domestic and mundane. 

You have a life now where you get to be domestic and mundane. Where you get to make out with your husband in a public place, until someone rolls down their window and wolf-whistles, and you have to restrain Ben from picking up their car and throwing it across the lot. Where you get to drive home with Ben’s hand on your thigh and your head resting on his shoulder, and you get to act like that’s all your life has ever been.

It’s all it will have to be now. 

For the rest of your life—which will likely be simply the rest of time—all you’ll have to do is be domestic. You don’t think you can be mundane, not when Ben grumbles something and you can feel his love spark and flare in his chest, or when you park the car and Ben carries all fifteen of your heavy bags inside at once without even a grunt. You can’t be mundane when, the moment he puts the bags down, you jump on him, he fucks you against the kitchen counter, and you burst into a flame that sets off the smoke alarm and drenches you both in the sprinklers. 

But you can be domestic. You can dry off and cook dinner with Ben—like a normal husband and wife probably do—and let him wrap his body around you and kiss that spot on your neck until you give up on focusing and ride him on the floor. 

You can eat with Ben and Ryan, try not to laugh as Ben works out how the ice cream maker works, and curl in Ben’s arms on your couch. Watching TV and sitting easily in the dark.

Ben can tilt your head back for a deep, slow kiss, smirking against your lips when you moan, and mutter your name like a prayer.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he says, rubbing firm circles on your thigh, and you let out a long, slow breath as you flush.

“I think you abuse that word, Benjamin,” you mumble, and he shrugs.

“I don’t give a fuck. You are.” He frowns, turning you to face him in his lap. “I fucking love you, Sunshine, you’re my whole fucking world-“

I know. You smile, leaning down for another, softer kiss that makes Ben groan in your mouth and the whole world start to get a little hazy. I love you, too.

He grunts, but doesn’t bother to do his usual pushing about how you still don’t get how much he loves to you. You do get it. You can feel it, and it’s the most powerful thing in the world. Sometimes you worry Ben doesn’t understand how much you love him. How you can’t even begin to picture a world where you’d never clawed your way through blood and grime to find him. How you can feel his love and resolve and care all the time, and your own love is so eternal and vast you could probably power a universe with it. 

But you’ll have all of time to fight with him about who loves who more. 

Right now, everything can just be Ben and you on a couch, eating ice cream, and knowing that this—You and him, burning together—is forever.

End Note: Had to make the smart speaker an Alexa. We are in an Amazon based universe. I don’t think they sell Alexas at Costco, but we’ve established that Costco sells whatever I want it to sell. So, Alexas.

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@lovelywebber

[pseudonymousposting]

I used to read and retain very well. Now, if I look at a lot of text, all I see is a big wall of fuck symbols that blend together and mean nothing so to be fair maybe a huge amount of us are worn out and can't parse information anymore.

But also important systems (like education) collapsing is part of the process of a civilization dying and, often, literacy plummets quickly.

This is partially because of the powerful neglect or purposely undercut these systems. This can be for personal gain, to suppress dissenting elements, to narrow the scope of whom they empower to their supporters, because they don't want to do so, because they are incompetent, because the system can not maintain itself anymore or any other number of reasons.

It's also partially because people are just trying their best to survive and don't have time to learn nor teach their children. This is something you'll note if you listen to elementary school teachers, who were iirc coming forward in droves with chilling tales of children coming into school having not reached some important prerequisite milestones for some of what they needed to include in their curriculum.

Early literacy was part of this phenomena, and there was plenty of drivel from parents blaming teachers, teachers blaming parents. Thank goodness, there was a number of people pointing at the problem: we are systemically fucked right now, and what it would take to fix the issue would look like a societal upheaval.

Here's the thing. The teachers have a lot of material to cover and a short time to do so. Taking extra time to literally teach children to read at a beginner level, a skill they should have at least begun to grasp before getting to school. This is a huge setback that costs heavily in the long term. It is expected that children are taught these things. This is NOT the teacher's fault. Their job is not to raise your children for you.

The activities that teach the skill have been considered standard fare, bare-minimum parenting activity, and, really, one of those parts of parenting in which you're supposed to look forward to participating. There are very few things more exciting to witness than a child you deeply love read their first book entirely unassisted.

It's one of those moments where you struggle hiding your tears because you're not sure if it's too early to explain what it means to cry out of sheer pride and love for another person. If you remember the first time reading a book on your own in front of an adult who loved you, note this may have been happening in their mind without your knowledge.

This is not a moment the parents are avoiding or too lazy to work toward. Quite the contrary; they are being deprived of it. People need to work toward feed their children. The hours they need to work to make that happen is rising, and the employers are becoming more and more brazen about how exploitative they're willing to be.

Hours get longer, pay stays the same, the pockets of billionaires grow evermore overstuffed with incomprehensible wealth, while the parents of hungry children struggle to make ends meet. When they do have time home, they're dead tired.

What I'm saying is, as usual, our economic system is becoming the failing nightmare it was intended to be in the first place, and the answer to this growing and worrying problem is to address that. Easier said than done, playing against a deck stacked against exactly the kind of person suffering the natural effects of a shit ass system such as this.

https://x.com/StrangerJosh11/status/1856410822983201030

It’s dire out here

Huston we have a problem

[starsfic]

Friendship Bracelets

This is based off a fun idea by @ldhedgehog, where Sonic and Shadow end up with a quill from each other and can use that to sense each other's emotions.

Fine. He was hedgehog to admit it.

Sonic had a bit of separation anxiety.

He and his parents chalked it up to the sudden loss of Longclaw and the ten years spent alone. Sonic had been so excited for his first day of school, with actual kids his age, but had spent most of the day deep in anxiety. What if being away from him was enough to convince Tom and Maddie that he didn't deserve to live with them? What if something happened to them? What if something happened to them and Sonic was all by himself again-

Sonic spent most of the day clinging to Tom when he got home.

It had gotten better. He had learned that Tom and Maddie were solid in their love for him. They texted each other during points in the day. Tails and Knuckles, once they were enveloped into the Wachowski fold, were also there, steadying him.

And then Shadow had come along and then was suddenly gone. There was still anger at him for hurting Tom, an anger that was only mollified by a bit when Tom admitted that he had spooked Shadow, but there was also grief.

Shadow had complemented him. It was like there was a piece of him missing that Sonic had never realized until he and Shadow were dancing in the stars, miniature shooting stars, and whispering of grief and loss on the moon. He loved Knuckles and Tails, of course, but neither could truly challenge him in speed, not until he met furious red eyes.

He had spent months convinced Shadow was dead.

And then Shadow was back, dragging Rouge the Bat with him and bursting into the scene like something out of an action movie, kicking a Metal Sonic away from Amy.

They hadn't had much time to talk, but Shadow's eyes lit up when they met, and he admitted that he had been grieving Sonic too, his hand tight around his. They weren't miniature shooting stars at the end, but they still could give one hell of an encore to their dance.

Then they had to separate again.

Shadow wasn't safe on Earth, not when GUN was around. Sonic understood, especially when Director Rockwell marched in and started screaming questions a few seconds after they shoved Shadow, Rouge, Amy, and that one robot they apparently stole from GUN through the ring portal. However, the minute they sat down in the truck, ready to head back to Green Hills where Shadow and the others would meet them, Sonic felt tears pricking at his eyes- not the normal tears he usually shed after a battle, but real, frantic tears.

What if he had just been a hallucination? What if something happened to him in the five minutes it took to set up a ring portal? What if something happened to him and Sonic was by himself again-

Panic attacks sucked. That was a fun fact that he learned. Maddie had decided, once he was back to himself, that they were all getting therapy. Nobody protested this.

Especially not Shadow, who spent the rest of the night- because his parents refused to let anyone go hungry, especially after a battle like that- hovering by his side. It took a lot of effort to convince him to let go of Sonic's hand at the end of dinner. Then Sonic had a nightmare in the middle of the night and had summoned a ring portal to Rouge's house, right as Shadow was crawling through his window to apparently check if Sonic was still breathing.

This started a pattern that was rapidly becoming an issue.

So when Maddie said she had a way to possibly help with their separation anxiety, Sonic honestly doubted her.

"It's a thing I noticed," she explained as she worked at the table, the two of them sitting across from her. "Shadow, you had one of Sonic's quills at one point, and you could tell Sonic was alive."

"Yes," Shadow said with a nod. "I think our mutual bond with the Chaos Emeralds may have infused our quills." Nobody mentioned that chaos energy was how Gerald Robotnik had lived way past his prime. The thought of Eggman possibly licking his quill made Sonic want to shiver out of his skin, he did not want to imagine what Shadow thought of his sort-of father figure licking his quill.

"Yeah!" his mom said brightly. "So, I did some research and poked at some of your quills, Sonic." She finished whatever she was doing, revealing two bracelets.

They looked like friendship bracelets, done with red and blue strings. However, when Sonic squinted, he realized that one had a lot more blue. The other had a familiar red tint to it.

"Hedgehog quills are actually hollow, making them flexible," Maddie explained as she held them out to them. "But your two's quills are way more flexible than I expected, more like human hair. I'm guessing that's because you guys aren't actually hedgehogs, but something resembling hedgehogs..." Sonic took the bracelet with more red and slid it on as Shadow slid the blue one on.

He twisted his wrist back and forth, studying the bracelet. It was close-fitting, meaning it wouldn't snag on anything, which was good. Sonic felt a burst of interest in his chest as Shadow's quills caught the light, turning a lighter shade of red.

Then he looked at Shadow, who was studying his own bracelet. The blue looked good on him. He looked nice with blue. He looked nice in general, but right now he looked cutely nice, kinda like a cat with how his ears flicked-

Shadow's ears flicked and Sonic had to resist the urge to squeal.

Shadow's head turned then.

"Did...did you just squeal in your head?" he said, sounding baffled. "I could feel that enough that I could hear it."

...oh. Maybe separation anxiety was better.

[ughtyrell]

Jayce is sent back in time to when the councilors argue about Zaun's independence and Jayce just wants to get his partner out of there

Jayce felt himself let out a gasp, the kind when you've just woken up from a nightmare. Glancing around he realizes he's in the council room. The councilors still raging over Zaun's independence. He knows they'll agree but then it wouldn't matter anyhow because half of them would perish a minute later.

"Jayce?"

It felt like Jayces heart would stop, that voice, that beautiful voice. To his side is Viktor, beautiful, perfect and flawed, whole Viktor who is staring at him in concern. The only one who heard his gasp and is noticing his panic at the moment. Right. The whole reason he's here right now.

"Viktor we need to go." Standing up and facing Viktor, ready to lead him away immediately. Except Viktor is looking at him in disbelief and the beginning of anger.

"The peace agreement Jayce." He says as if that will matter when he's dead. He's going to die. No! That's why Jayce is here. To change that. Then Jayce wouldn't need to merge him with the hexcore. He wouldn't become the Herald. He wouldn't be a lonely mage at the end of the world. All would be different if he can just get Viktor out of here now.

"Viktor I have a really bad feeling. We need to leave. Now."

Jayce hears the councilors quieting over his strange behavior, Mel saying his name in question. He doesn't care, the only one who matters he's already looking at. His partner who seems like he's going to fight Jayce about this. Something Jayce missed about Viktor. His attitude and willingness to use his sharp tongue as a weapon. He'll let Viktor yell as much as he wants later.

"Please. You trust me right. Never mind it doesn't matter." Too much time has already been wasted. Viktor will hate him for it but Jayce is going to scoop him up and run.

And he does. Voices around him raise and demand to know what he's doing? To stop this nonsense! None louder than Viktor who looks like he wants to bodily harm Jayce at this very moment. Jayce hears Viktors cane hit the ground but there's no going back for it even as Viktor yells about that too.

"I'll make you a new one! Please I just have a horrible feeling, we need to go Viktor!" Something in Jayces voice or expression must get through Viktors outrage, some of Jayces desperation and fear because he stops trying to fight his way out of the hold he's in. Making it so much easier to run with him.

How much time left? Jayce can't think. They need to get at least one floor down. More would be better but no matter what Jayce will use his own body to cover and protect Viktor if needed.

This is inspired from a fic I read but can't find for the life of me to credit. I searched 7 pages of my ao3 history. I wonder if they deleted it. That one ends differently. I just really wanted to write Jayce picking up Viktor and getting tf outta there asap. No time to bicker and fight ur boy Jayce, just run ! He can hit you with his newly made cane you gift him later!

Anyways these guys totally survive, Jayce takes them like two floors down, are in a landing of the stairwell where he stumbles and drops Viktor when everything starts to shake but makes sure to cover him from any danger. They are A-OK tho, not a scratch. Only Jayces wounded pride and guilt that he dropped Viktor. He probably teared up about it and Viktor tried to be comforting because Jayce did just save his life. But that sentiment only goes so far when he thinks Jayce is just being dumb.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 83: Oliver's Leg

Prev > Masterlist

tw: leg injury, body control, mind control, abuse, ableism, murder

October 1925

Oliver was trapped in nightmares that he thought would never end. Intense pain was radiating from his right leg, and his head pounded, all while the sleeping draught pulled him down into uneasy sleep that gave no rest. At some point, a nurse was trying to rouse him, but he couldn't understand what she was saying, couldn't answer her questions before dropping back into the abyss.

Among the twisted and terrifying images that his mind conjured, he kept seeing Alexander, Alexander pleading for help, Alexander turning to dust. No matter how hard he tried to push them away, his mind kept circling back to them every time he lost his grip on his thoughts.

And in so many of those nightmares, he was falling.

By the time he became more fully aware, the sun was shining bright on his eyelids. He opened them -- mercifully, he could keep them open this time -- and found that he was in a hospital bed. Curtains separated him from what was probably beds on either side of him, and through the large window he could see trees bedecked in autumn leaves.

The relief didn't last, because the next sensation that crashed into him was pain. It was if his left leg had been dipped into a fire. Through watering eyes he looked down and saw that his left leg was entombed in a vast quantity of plaster.

What had happened?

He couldn't remember. He'd fallen in so many imaginary ways that he had no idea which one was true. The last thing he remembered clearly was arguing with Vivian over killing Alexander.

And now, he realized fearfully, the sun was up. Alexander could be dead by now.

And if he wasn't…

Any thoughts he'd had about escaping the vampires were out the window now. He wasn't going anywhere, and it probably wouldn't be long until he was found. If the worst had happened and Alexander had been killed, it would be Lily coming to collect him, or worse…

And there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that he could do about it.

He sank into his pillow, trying not to sob.

"Oh, you're awake." A young nurse pushed back the curtain. "How are you?"

Normally Oliver didn't like to complain, but he felt he had to make an exception here. "I'm in a lot of pain," he choked out.

"I'm sure you are. I'm not sure if you were aware of it, but the doctor had to do a surgical procedure on your knee to set the bone. Otherwise, we might have had to amputate," she said. "I can go fetch the doctor to talk to you, and something for the pain, too."

"Thank you." The sleeping draught must have kept him unconscious during the surgery, or perhaps he'd been given something else. Everything from the night before was such a blur of the real and imagined that he had no idea. Oliver had never had surgery before, never even been in a hospital as a patient.

"Hello, Oliver," said a man with a white coat and a silver mustache, pulling back the curtain once more. "I'm the doctor who treated you last night. Seems that you had quite a fall."

"Sorry, but I don't remember." Oliver realized his throat was parched, and he choked on the last word. The doctor kindly handed him a glass of water from a nearby table.

"As the nurse told you, you had to have surgery to set the bones in place. Hopefully, that makes it more likely that your leg will heal. However, it's still going to be a long road to recovery."

"Will I be able to walk?"

"In time, if you heal well and exercise regularly, you may be able to walk with assistance --"

"With assistance?"

"You will likely need a cane or some other aid for walking. But first, you're going to be in the hospital for some time, while we keep you in that cast. After that, the staff here can help you procure a wheelchair."

"A wheelchair," Oliver repeated, seeing his brief hope for independence go up in smoke. Trapped in the hospital, the vampires could so easily subdue him if they found him; and if he required the use of a wheelchair, if he couldn't even walk, he'd be even more at their mercy. A thrall that couldn't walk, that could be pushed anywhere they wanted him to go.

How would he even climb the stairs at Alexander's manor? Would he require Alexander to carry him up and down the stairs every day?

And what of the Maestro, who strictly punished any flaw, no matter how minor? How would he treat a severely injured thrall? Would he convince Alexander that Oliver was useless, broken? Alexander could no doubt obtain another thrall, a healthy and able-bodied thrall, if he wanted one. He didn't know what vampires did to thralls that outlived their usefulness and he didn't expect to like the answer.

"I know it's a lot to take in," said the doctor. "But let me assure you, you can lead a very full life still."

Perhaps that would be true if he hadn't ever crossed the path of a vampire. "I suppose so, doctor," he said blankly.

"Do you have any family that will be able to take care of you?"

"No," he said.

The doctor looked concerned. "I see. Well, you'll need to consider what your options will be once you're released from the hospital. There are also some charities and homes that can help you -- I can have the nurses provide you with some brochures, in case you want to get in touch."

Oliver didn't care to explain that he already knew what his only option would be. "Thanks," he said.

"By the way, the person who brought you in didn't have your last name. Can we have it for our records?"

"Pines."

"Pines," the doctor repeated.

The nurse came back, holding a small cup. "Pines, is it? Who was it that brought you in? She wasn't very forthcoming about your relationship to each other."

It must have been Vivian, he supposed. "An acquaintance."

She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but thought better of it. "Well, I don't want to pry," she said, even though she obviously did want to pry. "Here, I've brought you some syrup that will dull your pain. Drink it all and take some water."

Oliver drank it without a second thought, eager to have some relief from the mind-bending pain. The doctor and nurse left him, probably expecting him to sleep, and as the pain loosened, Oliver's eyelids began to droop. He had just woken up from a deep, magic-induced sleep, but he was still so exhausted.

He didn't fight the sleep. Sleeping during the day would help him stay awake at night, in the likely event that a vampire came to collect his possession.

As he drifted off to sleep, he thought of his bookshop crammed wall-to-wall with bookcases, the narrow aisles just large enough for a person, the rickety old staircase leading up to his tiny apartment. Even if he were somehow completely free from the vampires, he wouldn't be able to navigate any of that with his injured leg. He might never be able to do that again.

---

The Maestro arrived at midnight precisely.

Oliver knew this, because he was wide awake and staring at the clock, terrified of the possibility. He had been expecting Alexander earlier in the evening, assuming that if he knew where Oliver was, he would arrive shortly after sundown. Oliver far preferred that to the alternative.

But he didn't have a choice. He didn't have any choices, any more. He couldn't escape from Alexander's sire any more than he could with Alexander there ensorcelling him. So he smoothed down his hair, his hospital gown, and his blanket as much as he could, knowing that no amount of trying to make himself look presentable would make up for the enormous, glaring injury sticking out of the sheets, encased in plaster.

The room seemed to grow darker and colder as he entered. Some of the other patients in the ward had been groaning or muttering or snoring -- all of this ended immediately, and the only sounds were the ticking of the clock and the tapping of shoes on the scuffed linoleum. It felt unreal, Oliver wondering if he were still somehow trapped in the hallucinations he'd experienced the night before.

All too soon, he was there, staring at Oliver in the hospital bed with sharp, dark eyes.

"Good evening, sir," said Oliver shakily.

"It can hardly be a good evening in a place that reeks of diseased and rotting humans. Even the blood stench is foul," he said.

Oliver could feel the control wrapping around his body. He wasn't moving Oliver, or doing anything but holding him still. Just a threat, a reminder, and a promise.

The Maestro could do anything to him, absolutely anything, and no one could stop him. Not even Alexander was there to plead for mercy. Surely this ruthless vampire didn't want Alexander to have a thrall that was below his exacting standards, and a freshly made invalid was no doubt far below those standards.

It would be so easy for him to dispose of Oliver then and there, and disappear into the night. Only Alexander would mourn him, and not openly, lest he incur more of his sire's wrath. The burning, throbbing pain of his leg made it impossible for Oliver to think of anything but his own impending death.

But death didn't come. The Maestro was still standing there, observing him.

"Your master will be punished for his irresponsibility," he said, finally. "Allowing a hunter to steal one of his thralls is an utter disgrace. Still, this sort of disappointment is what I expect from Alexander."

"Yes, sir," said Oliver meekly, remembering how badly it went when he tried to defend Alexander. Alexander wasn't even here; the Maestro would certainly do as he pleased with his sireling regardless of Oliver's protests, anyway. "I'm sorry, sir."

"As well you should be. When a dog runs away, the owner is most at fault for allowing it the opportunity; but the dog must also be punished, so that it learns a lesson."

And Oliver could feel pressure on his broken leg, a deceptively subtle twisting that produced unthinkable agony. Oliver couldn't stifle his scream, couldn't keep himself from crying, until the controlling force sealed his mouth and stilled his tongue. He thought that whatever surgical measures had been put in to save his leg must surely be torn out, that any faint hope of walking again was disappearing before his eyes. The moment dragged on for what seemed like years.

Just as suddenly as the torture began, it abated.

"I trust you have enough of a reminder not to defy your master's will, even if his enthrallment was crudely torn from you."

"Yes, sir," he said, gasping from the pain.

The Maestro was staring at him as though he were lower than a bug. "You should understand that I ordinarily would never attend a thrall at such a lowly place. Nor would I care to preserve a human whose capabilities have been thus reduced. But you have a certain potential which cannot be ignored. What's more, disposing of you would likely result in Alexander obtaining a far less suitable thrall. His taste is decidedly uneven. I trust you are grateful for this mercy."

Oliver nodded, trying desperately not to cry.

His leg was twisted again. "That will be 'yes, sir'."

"Yes, sir!" he yelped, and the terrible pain was eased.

"Hmm." There seemed to be plans in those cold eyes, plans that Oliver was certain he would not enjoy. "See to it that you recover quickly."

With an artful flourish, he produced a single, perfect red rose from the inside of his coat, and handed it to a bewildered Oliver. Then, without a further word, he stalked out of the door.

Around him, Oliver could hear the stirring of the other patients. He wondered how much they'd heard.

He pulled the thin hospital blanket over his head, hiding himself from the world. He shuddered to think what the Maestro meant by his potential. He thought of Miriam, wiped of most of her memories, her mind so addled that she didn't know where she was sometimes. That was what Lily had done to her to shield her from the effects of whatever "training" the Maestro had administered. Wouldn't Alexander have the same thing done to him? And what would happen to him first, to make that treatment necessary?

Reasonably confident that the vampire was gone, Oliver tossed the rose onto the floor and out of his sight, pricking his finger on a thorn in the process. His leg throbbed, still in agony, as his mind churned in terror. He had been a fool to even consider that he might be able to gain his freedom. Perhaps it would have been better if the Maestro had deemed him useless and disposed of him.

Oliver assumed he would never be able to get to sleep after that, but at some point he must have, because he opened his eyes to a terrified shriek. The patients all turned to the door to the hall, and the more able-bodied ones were getting up from their beds to take a look. "There's nothing to see," said a nurse, blocking the doorway. "Get back to your beds."

"Is she dead?" a woman cried out, looking over the nurse's shoulder.

"It'll be a matter for the police. Back to your beds!" The nurse was joined by a janitor, who successfully herded the patients back and closed the door.

"What did you see?" The patients crowded the woman who had caught a glimpse.

"There was a woman, dead, bent over the desk. Her neck was all bloody, like someone slit her throat."

"It was one of the night nurses," said another patient. "Betsy, her name was."

As the group of patients near the door murmured in horror, Oliver shrank into his bed, wishing it would swallow him whole. A nurse dead of a neck wound, on the same night the Maestro had come to pay his visit. That wasn't a coincidence. That was a warning, a show of power. A demonstration that Oliver couldn't run and hide, not without leaving a trail of innocent bodies behind him.

He had known deep in his gut that something like this would happen if he tried to escape. Vivian was probably dead as well, and maybe even the rest of the people at the safe house, including Emily. Dead because Oliver, who had never been wanted by anyone, now had the most desirable blood in the city.

And what could Oliver do? He didn't want to go back, he didn't want to face any further punishment the Maestro had in store for him. But he was helpless with his shattered leg, and even if he wasn't, where would he go where the Maestro couldn't find him?

The only one who might be able to help him now was Alexander, the root cause of the problem, and Oliver knew he'd be seeing him soon.

Prev > Masterlist

Next week: Alexander is turned.

Thanks for reading!

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[neon-wasteland]

My gods, literally my nightmare…. But I guess since it’s here I’ll start expecting my psychic powers soon! Or the werewolf transformation whatever ❤️

Also I’d like to add:

In case of a draft / WW3? Make sure you’re in school if you’re a male at birth under a certain age… sucks but that is the only thing I can think of — barring physical disability — that will stop a draft call. My guess it they’ll do it lottery style if this happens again.

I’d also just get familiar with making things from scratch in general if you don’t already. Mainly because tariffs means food shortages. I should be buying rice in bulk anyway but… *sigh*

Oh, and learn how to sew. It’s easy, even with a hand needle. You can make garments as strong as a machine sewn one with a backstitch - YouTube it, Bernadette Banner is my fav, I have her book too 💕 she’s so calming~

On sewing - don’t start with a diy project, make pillows, pillowcases, simple patterns. Free patterns are all over the place! No printer? Make sure your screen has 100% zoom and carefully trace. I’ve done this a lot.

We’ve got this… even if some of us chose the worst time to question gender and move out… we’ve got this.

reminders for today:

if you or someone you know might need it in the next few years, purchase plan b. the shelf life of plan b is 4 years, and we might not be able to access it as easily as we can now in the days ahead.

if you are larger/plus size: go online and purchase ella instead of plan b. plan b is less effective if you aren’t under 160 pounds.

if you can, purchase books that project 2025 is looking to ban.

mass deportations are starting. if you see ice vehicles or agents, yell ice raid and la migra as loud as you can.

if someone asks who you voted for, keep your mouth shut. they’re fishing for traitors.

if anyone, anyone at all asks about your neighbors or their legal status in the us, you know nothing. don’t be the reason that their family is separated.

if anyone asks about your religion or lack thereof, keep it vague. this administration will look for any excuse to persecute you.

your friends are trans or queer? for the next four years they’re not. don’t expose anyone’s status as a trans or queer person to anyone else, even if you think you can trust them.

did someone you know get an abortion? no, they didn’t. they were never pregnant.

in short, don’t be a snitch, and keep to yourself these next four years. we’ll make it through this even if it seems hopeless at times.

this is all i can think of at the moment, but i’ll be adding on to this as the day continues.

we can survive this. we’ve survived before, and we’ll survive again.

[lovesickf-fics]

First time for everything

tw : Masterbation, talks of past masterbation, walking in on someone masterbating, virgins, hand jobs, talking through it, spit

Ship mention : Prongsfoot (James x Sirius) Marauders

Summary : James comes in from his morning walk and catches his dorm mate touching himself, what is he meant to do other than become curious and want to help him out

James goes jogging as the sun rises, like clockwork, he takes about anywhere between a half hour to fifty minutes, and Sirius knows this.

Sirius knows this because he's such a light sleeper that even though James tries his best he wakes Sirius up, and every morning Sirius takes advantage of the silencing charm they learned back in third year.

For almost all of 6th year he's been doing this, James gets up, gets dressed and leaves, and as the door closes Sirius puts his charm up, the shimmer reflecting of the canopy making his legs tingle like a dogs ears perk at a whistle. Well trained and desperate.

He tugs whatever bottoms he'd tugged on the night before down to his knees, and he touches himself. He explores and plays and treats his body like unexplored territory - because that's what it is.

Today was meant to be no different from every single one of those.

That was until the door reopened, after only ten minutes of it closing behind james the first time, and Sirius panics.

He yelps, thankful for the charm, but the charm doesn't hide the moving and desperation to hide because this feels dirty. He always knows it was dirty, but him knowing and his best friend are too different.

James, and oh sweet james the boy he is assumes Sirius is having nightmares again and so he rushes over and pulls the canopy back to find sirius, half flailed around, hair messy, drool down his face, tears in his eyes, red cheeked and cock dribbling with his trousers down and if that doesn't spark a flame up in James' gut he would've been convinced nothing would

They stare at each other, blinking dumbly, and in that moment, Sirius is vulnerable, and James is enjoying it more than he should, They're both stood frozen and its sirius that caves first, letting out a sound close to a sob and his tears well up and spill over with the emotions.

"j-james! n-no im sorry, listen im so so sorry i won't do it again--"

James hushes him, gently getting into the bed with him, holding him close, uncaring that the boy is practically naked, and his t-shirt is wet with tears and drool.

James holds him tight, keeping his voice soft

"Shh, shh pads, it's okay, you're absolutely so okay, do you do this alot?"

Sirius, who can barely get a word out, just nods into James' arms, his heart melts, and he lets his fingertips brush Sirius' outer thigh were his hand drapes around him.

Sirius tenses at the touch and then relaxes. Something about James always makes him relax, and with the way he's melting against James, he takes it as a green light to keep going.

James takes his hand higher, trailing sweetly along the divots of his hips and thighs, getting closer and closer to where Sirius is dripping again, He keeps his head in the crook of James' neck and gently mouths at the skin there, making James chuckle a little.

Theres words of encouragement mumbled into the morning air as James touches where Sirius needed it most, wrapping his hand around his cock, just firm enough to feel and with the residue spit from Sirius before and the pre from the praise and touches it feels better than anything Sirius has ever felt.

Sirius jerks into James' hand and moans loud, not used to someone elses touch. James smiles wider and adjusts them to be facing each other a little more, Sirius still on top of him and getting louder with every movement around his cock.

James mumbles some more

"It feels good, huh? i wonder how you do it for yourself. You can show me another day, but for now we'll keep doing this"

James lifts his hand away and he ignores how Sirius' whine he spits into his hand, loving how it connects from his lips to his palm and then down all over Sirius' cock, cooing at the sounds he makes in return.

Sirius' hips move, and James lets them. He relishes in his reactions, enjoying how he can move his hands faster to make Sirius gasp and slower makes him whine

It's not long before sirius is cumming, cock twitching in James' hand and his knuckles being painted in white, Sirius bites into James' neck and moans as it happens, his hips losing any semblance of control they had

[psych0t1c-bread]

@howlsofbloodhounds here's the fanfic I promised! Sorry it took me so long lol (and sorry that it's so long in the first place. I meant for this to only be 5k but... judging by the fact that this ended up being 10k, that didn't quite happen, did it?)

@adler9944 because you wanted to read it as well!

Also, the first half of the chapter is a flashback that sets the tone for the story. You can skip it if you want, but I wouldn't suggest it.

I also posted this on Ao3. I hope you like it! Enjoy!

The Right Time and Place

(Cw: swearing, dissociation, self-deprication, mention of blood, PTSD nightmares/flashbacks, etc.)

5 months.

It had been 5 months since Color escaped the VOID. 5 months since Core found him, 5 months since he had been accepted into the Omega Timeline, 5 months since he began to get adjusted to life outside the VOID, and 3 months since he had been introduced to Delta.

Color had learned a lot from being with Delta, casually observing his friend's behaviors to mirror them. He still didn't quite know how to act now that he was out of the VOID. But life seemed a bit more normal now, much easier than it had been - much better.

He watched Delta's movements and attitude with utmost curiosity, unintentionally mirroring it all. He felt like he knew everything about his friend - his hand movements, his interests, where he worked, his attitude, his sarcasm and sass, his confidence, his knowledge.

Color felt like he knew everything about Delta.

It was about 10 pm as Color thought about this. His drifting, heavy eyes slowly began to close as he thought about it while drifting off into dream. And for once, his memory served him well - he remembered how they met almost perfectly...

[For the first two months, Color had stayed in the hospital while Core tried to find a suitable roommate for him, or at least one that would be willing to try.

Luckily, their newest tenant in the apartments a couple blocks from the hospital seemed up for the challenge.

When Core had first approached him with the idea of a roommate, Delta naturally asked who they were, why they were here. He was curious, but needed to make sure it'd be safe for him to room with this person.

Core couldn't tell him much - just that his supposed roommate had arrived two months ago, depressed and malnourished, from a dark VOID where he was held captive for around 20 years based on the doctor's observations.

They weren't able to tell him much more.

It took Delta all of 10 seconds to make his decision. Core offered him time, but before they could even finish their sentence, he had decided to accept this new person.

He asked if he could at least visit his new roommate in the hospital. Core explained that he was near catatonic, and wasn't used to people - but that the doctors would help his new roommate get adjusted by stopping by once a day. (Bit intrusive in Delta's opinion, but if all of what Core said was true, then it was incredibly necessary to have the doctors stop by.)

He gladly accepted.

Once Color had been discharged, Core took him to meet Delta if he was feeling well enough for it. And luckily, at that moment, he was.

Core led him to a peaceful park at dusk, not wanting Color to be overwhelmed by the sun and the busy lives of the people who lived here just yet.

After a short walk, they found Delta, who was sitting on a bench and patiently waiting to meet his roommate.

The two hit it off the bat immediately.

Well, Delta did, at least. At first, his bright orange eyes - a sign Color later learned that meant he was on guard, or that Beta was watching from inside - deeply intimidated Color, with their white dragon-like pupils unintentionally glaring down at him.

But once he saw Delta smile, and happily introduce himself and offer a handshake, Color couldn't help but relax. He was... charismatic, in his own special way.

Their clothes were covered in dirt and grime, having just been called after work. He barely had time to take his goggles and apron off before rushing to wherever Core needed him.

(Truthfully, they had been expecting a fight, but were nonetheless happy to meet someone new.)

And from what Color could hear, Delta had been taking up work at an engineering place of sorts - making new gadgets, weapons, safety items.

Needless to say, Delta's first introduction to Color wasn't him at his prettiest. (Not to say he'd look bad in his work clothes covered in dirt, though...)

Yet still, Color felt himself being drawn to them. Something about them - their voice, their appearance - made them enticing. And it didn't go unnoticed how the Bravery Soul inside of him felt suddenly at ease, watching the other still closely but much more relaxed. There was some sort of... attachment, on Delta that he could feel.

Something new. Something he hadn't experienced with any other Sans before.

It was overwhelming at first. Delta was very excited to meet someone new - he couldn't seem to stop talking, unable to stop asking all the questions that came to their mind as they lightly bounced on their feet. They had an almost childlike curiosity to them.

Core gently shut them down, being direct yet cautious. They knew Delta had no idea about Color's past, and was rightfully curious - a bit too curious, but innocent in his curiosities.

Unfortunately, Color did not take that well.

He was polite, at first. He was able to smile and force himself to keep calm. But the longer the noise carried on, the more questions Delta asked that he didn't want to answer, the brighter the lights around them seemed to get - it was all quickly too much.

But upon seeing the distressed and aggravated look in his new friend's eyes, Delta stopped. He froze momentarily, seeming deep in thought, silently wondering if he was being too much already.

To fix this, they whipped out their backpack, quickly unzipped the big pocket, and pulled out some headphones.

Without hesitating, he offered it to Color.

The other tried to deny his needs at first, not wanting to seem like a burden so early on - look at him, how selfish he is. Burdening a stranger on their first meeting. And he hasn't even made it back to the apartment yet, barely even spoken a word to this stranger! What if he was being rude? What if Delta didn't want to be his roommate anymore because of this? Was he going to be left alone again? Was it his fault? What if this was a trap? Was Delta tricking him to trap him and keep him here forever? What if he was? What if he wasn't? What if-

His breathing began to grow heavy as these thoughts filled his mind. The lights, the noise - it was all too much. The fire in their skull crackled, glowing brighter by the second as a sharp, violent pain overtook their skull.

Instinctively, Delta tried to gently touch Color's shoulder to get him to focus and take the headphones. They could see the pain in Color's grimace, and wanted to help.

Unfortunately, Color snapped.

He jumped back, almost screaming at Delta to get away, making the other flinch and take a quick step back.

Before he could even process what was going on, Color had sunk to his knees as he trembled, violently restraining his sobs as his thoughts and pain overtook him. He frantically tried to cover his broken skull with his hood, desperately trying to block out all the lights around.

Silently, after he overcame the shock, Delta quietly began to analyze him. The Bravery Soul inside him demanded an answer for the outburst, but Delta didn't have one - that was, until, he heard faint sobs from the other.

He came to the quick conclusion that Color wasn't mad at them. He was mad at the world - for reasons unknown to Delta, obviously. He had only been told bits and pieces of vital information when Core had first approached him about it - he always needed to know what he was getting himself into before deciding something major.

Core glanced almost nervously at Delta. They knew his demeanor quite well - and they knew that if such kindness was rejected so harshly, it could get an even harsher reaction out of the hot-head. His silence was a bit unnerving.

But instead of growing irritated or aggressive, Delta opted for comfort. As much as people may know him for his his brash attitude and doubt that much good can come out of it, he knows when the right time for a fight is - and now is not that time. He wasn't gonna just start fighting someone who so obviously needed help! (Maybe not his help specifically, but it didn't look like anyone else besides from Core was gonna be of much use, so why not do what he can?)

Needless to say, both were surprised when Delta gently and cautiously crouched down in front of Color - still keeping his distance - and quietly called out to him.

Color managed to force himself to peek up from his hood, to see Delta sitting down and smiling a bit sadly at him, empathy glistening in his eyes.

Delta began to sign to him, unsure if it would work or if Color even knew sign language, but he knew that he shouldn't speak more to aggravate the other further. He kept his body a bit closer to the ground, not wanting to make Color look up in the light any more than he had to.

Cautiously, Delta offered to take Color somewhere quieter and safer. He mentioned that there was a library they could go to, it had a sensory room with blackout curtains if he needed a nap, and a Cafe in case he needed a drink or caffeine.

Color froze at the options. What was all of this that he was speaking of? A Cafe? Library? He didn't remember those words anymore. Stars, he could have sworn he heard about them in his dreams.

Was this all a dream, then? Was any of this real? What if it wasn't? Was he trapped somewhere, was he dreaming again? Was this reality or not? How could he tell?

But after Delta had finished signing, Color realized that he had stopped shaking so much. He didn't feel much calmer, as he was still hyperventilating, but he was able to see Delta clearly enough to listen. He found himself breathing a tiny bit slower, his body slowly relaxing the longer Delta held eye contact - he couldn't look away.

Color managed to regain his voice after a moment. He hadn't experienced kindness from someone else in so long... it felt amazing. And yet, that feeling was quickly overtaken by terror and suspicion.

Tears rolled down his skull as he managed to choke out that he wanted to go home. But what was home? Was it the VOID? His AU? Where was it, what was it? Was it with anyone?

Delta and Core were both quite surprised, but upon seeing the despiration in Color's eyes, Delta decided to back off on taking his friend anywhere new.

Core softly spoke up, offering to take Color back to his new apartment. But Color shook his head, unsure of where that was - if it even existed.

After about an hour of trying to talk Color down, Delta had managed to bring him back to reality and get him to take some deep breaths. He handed Color his water, which the other immediately snatched and downed in one go.

Delta was surprised, but gladly let the other take it. And once Color had managed to ground himself and calm down, they slowly stood and offered a hand up. (In truth, with how sudden the panic attack happened, he wasn't quite sure if Color would be able to walk without help.)

Color flinched back, his shaky hands tensing at the sudden movement. But when he saw Delta was genuinely offering to help, he paused.

He hesitated, unsure if touch would send him back over the edge. But the pain in his legs made it feel impossible to get up on his own.

He didn't want to get hurt or tricked. But the kindness in Delta's bright orange eyes told him that he was safe.

For once in his life, something was telling him he was safe.

Slowly, he reached out a shaking hand.

Delta gladly took it.

His tight, strong grip was like no other Color had felt - not in a while, at least. Their hands felt strong and safe, comforting Color and silently telling him that not a single Soul would dare to harm him - not if Delta was around to help it.

The orange metal gauntlet was a surprisingly smooth, almost soothing texture. It was slightly cold, but warmer than Color was expecting - was it always like that, or did Delta just do that for him?

And as Delta pulled him up with ease, Color felt their body practically melt into his hand. It helped that Color couldn't feel his bones - the gauntlet covered his hand fully, blocking out any physical contact from under it. And the fact that it was smooth and not rough or jagged or cold like other metals was the icing on the cake.

Quickly pulling him to his feet, Delta held his hands out just in case Color stumbled or collapsed again. But once his new friend was stable, Core began to lead them to the apartment.

Color still doubted his surroundings. He yanked his hand away from Delta after a moment, but mumbled a quiet 'thank you'. Delta responded with a bright smile.

As they walked in silence, Color couldn't help but notice a protective energy around the group - as if something was watching over them, keeping them safe, protecting them.

He glanced over at Delta.

He figured out where the energy was coming from.

If anyone dared to look in their direction as they made their way to the apartment, they were met with a fiercely protective glare from Delta - a silent promise of hurt if they dared approach with ill intentions. Their hands were kept firmly at their sides as they surveyed the surroundings, keeping track of every alleyway, every person, what they looked like.

Color felt safe. He didn't know why or how, or if it was a trick. But he felt his body relax slowly as they continued walking.

And after a 10 minute walk, they arrived at the apartment.

As Delta carefully held his keys as still as possible so they wouldn't jingle too much, he slowly cracked open the white door, and entered in.

It was fairly clean, though evident that Delta had been living there - he hadn't expected to have company so soon, but had a short warning beforehand (three days) so he could at least clean up the place. Everything was swept and dusted, but his work clothes and apron had been carelessly tosses into a pile near his bedroom door.

The dark, dull beige walls of the apartment greeted their eyes first. The light brown couch was lovingly worn down from Delta alone, with the TV remote resting on the class coffee table in front of it.

The TV stand was nothing fancy, either - not that Delta cared, anyhow. It was tidy with a few movie boxes and a DVD player on it, on the small shelf below the TV itself. The TV was a decent size, nothing huge but definetly big enough for multiple people to enjoy.

The big light above them had been left on, but Delta quickly shut it off as to not overwhelm Color. He silently slipped his shoes off before fully entering to reach for the lightswitch, walking on the cold wooden floors.

Looking a bit to his left, Color could see the open entrance to what Delta described as the kitchen. He could faintly see what looked like chairs and possibly a table.

To his right, he saw a hallway. Delta explained that it led to the bathroom and bedrooms, though Color couldn't quite remember what that meant.

Color remained frozen in the doorway. He saw dozens of items he had a vague memory of, but didn't know the names.

Delta silently awaited a reaction, wanting to ensure Color didn't get overwhelmed. Though, to him, there wasn't much to get overwhelmed about. But judging by Color's earlier reactions, he wasn't quite sure if it would be the same.

Softly, Color asked what the new items were.

Delta was quite surprised by that. But, he cautiously described each and every one, giving Color breaks when he saw his face twist in confusion.

Eventually, Color managed to walk into the house. He took a close look around at the bleak walls, into the kitchen and down the hall. There were so many new things - but all he cared about right now was sleep.

Before he got fully settled, however, Delta offered both him and Core lunch. He wouldn't be able to cook much (the oven was most likely still broken from the last time he attempted to use it), but he could at least feed them a snack or something.

Color's demeanor suddenly sparked up at the mention of food. And upon seeing the sudden shift in attitude, Delta took it as a yes and immediately headed to the kitchen to make them some sandwiches.

To his surprise, Color followed.

The creaks in the floorboards startled him at first, along with Delta's silent footsteps - why couldn't he hear them? Were they really there?

Delta glanced back, to see Color looking confused and uncomfortable. He was about to ask what was up, when Color softly spoke out and asked why he was so quiet.

Delta was surprised, but apologized and explained that he didn't want to overwhelm him. He made sure to walk a little louder. He could see the distant look behind Color's blank eyes.

But he noticed something else - Beta had pointed it out - that concerned him. Color was fidgeting with his hands, pacing in circles around the kitchen on his small square, keeping his eyes on Delta's hands the entire time.

Color nervously glanced at the food. He barely remembered what it was like to eat something - he didn't remember what the name or ingredients of what Delta was making, but made sure that the other wasn't adding any pills or something strange.

Color still wasn't sure if he was safe. Could Delta be trusted? What if this is a trap? Are they going to poison him? Would Core allow that? What if they're the one who suggested it?

Upon seeing Color work themselves up again into another panic, Delta quietly offered for him to come help, if he wanted. He didn't want to make his roommate uncomfortable, but it was clear neither of them knew quite what to do.

Color was startled out of his thoughts, quickly looking up to Delta as he froze in place again. He could barely think, but after a few minutes of debate, he decided to learn about whatever Delta was doing.

As he cautiously approached, Delta made sure Color could see all the ingredient lists and what he was using, how he was using it and where it belonged in his organized mess of a kitchen.

Color had no idea what to do with any of the items, or what they were. And despite not knowing if Delta would tell the truth or not, he decided to ask.

Delta was visibly surprised by this, but made space for Color on the counter and patiently explained the process of making a sandwich, including all the ingredients. They weren't sure if it would be too much for Color to handle, but tried to help anyways.

Color was quick to learn. When he wanted to taste the items first before he put it on his sandwich, Delta didn't stop him. He made sure to separate his sandwich from Color's for sanitary reasons, though.

As they observed from their seat on the windowsill, Core couldn't help but smile. They knew they had made the right choice to pair these two together in spite of their differences.

After the boys had finished making the sandwiches, Delta let them sit anywhere in the apartment as he gave Core their sandwich.

To their surprise, Color scarfed his sandwich down in mere seconds. Delta was worried he'd choke, but somehow he didn't.

After making sure Color wasn't sick from eating so fast, Delta offered to make him another sandwich. Color frantically agreed.

As Delta got up to make him another sandwich, Color stood and asked if he could do it. He truly meant no offense, but he just didn't trust Delta enough to let him make the food.

Core smiled. And, as to not startle Color, they announced their leave.

The two bid Core their goodbyes, and Core left silently as Delta continued to teach Color how to make a sandwich.

And despite Color's clear distrust and fear, the two had been inseparable ever since.

Of course, their relationship has had its ups and downs over the few months they had known each other.

It was certainly an experience for Delta when he first found Color on the kitchen floor, sleeping peacefully with the lights dimly lit up.

Delta, having thought the poor guy was fully unconscious, immediately tried to wake him up while frantically calling the doctors in charge of Color's care at two in the morning.

Color woke up quickly, startled and hostile, kicking and screaming in shock. Delta had jumped back, but breathed a sigh of relief - and hung up after telling the doctors that Color was alive.

That night turned into a long conversation, which led to them helping Color get situated in his new room with the offer of full control over it. The doctors came by to check on them about 15 minutes later, but once they judged that Color was safe, they left.

Another late night memory that Color happily reminisced on was a comforting reminder that he was no longer alone - Delta had caught him playing chess by himself at 1 am, muttering his moves to himself.

Delta, who was somehow both the lightest and deepest sleeper that Color had ever known (even though they were his only friend), was awoken by mutterings coming from the couch.

And upon investigating, visibly concerned of what he would find, he was relieved to see Color.

Delta had asked what he was doing, making Color flinch at the interruption. But when he explained, Delta, in his half-asleep state, managed to say that he didn't have to play alone anymore because Color had him now.

Against his better judgement, he offered to play with him. Color thought for a moment, but accepted.

They both managed to fall asleep as they played chess, waking up on the couch as the warm beam of sunlight gently awoke them from their peaceful slumber.

And it was definitely fun to remember how he had met Beta for the first time - the day he realized that he wasn't alone in having a human Soul with him.

They had walked in on Delta and a glowing orange outline of a body softly talking early in the morning - it sounded like they were talking about some kind of dream. By the tone, Color could tell the spirit sounded nervous as Delta made him some kind of drink that Color didn't recognize.

When he called out to them, the two flinched and swiveled around - but upon seeing him, relaxed.

Color remembered asking who the figure was.

The two looked startled, glancing at each other, before the spirit turned back to Color with the biggest grin he had ever seen.

Excitedly, the kid introduced himself as Beta, explaining who he was and why. He was thrilled that Color could see him - he thought no one other than Delta could! He was so excited!

Delta tried to calm his kid down, not wanting him to overwhelm Color. But for the first time, Color felt something stirring inside of him as the spirits in his head managed to force him to say hi.

A few who were more powerful were able to make themselves into spirits to say hello. Beta was practically jumping up and down when he saw that.

That was probably his favorite 3 am experience with Delta.

He remembered his first panic attack in the house, when Delta had gone out to buy groceries early before work as to not wake up Color. He remembered frantically calling Delta, in tears when the other picked up.

Within seconds, Delta had managed to steal the cart with the groceries still in it, slap a $50 on the counter for the cashier, and teleport home - where he literally slipped on the floor and dragged the cart down with him on total accident.

Yet still, once they managed to get up somehow unharmed, they left the groceries on the ground so they could run to help Color.

He remembered when an ignorant Monster had decided to challenge Color's flames, mocking his body. He remembered the shame and humiliation - and how it quickly turned to utter shock when he saw Delta clock him in the jaw, breaking it almost instantly and knocking the man out.

Color remembered the way Delta had grabbed his hand, quickly pulling him up from his seat in the Cafe and began to run. They ran all the way back to their apartment practically at the speed of light, and when they got in and locked the door, they took a moment to breathe.

They looked at each other, still in mild shock that that had just happened. But then they immediately burst into laughter, in awe that no one had stopped them or caught them yet.

(They got caught later that week cause the guy who got his ass beat saw Delta visiting Color in the hospital during one of his more frequent checkups. He bitched to Core about it and Delta got a earful from the kid. Color couldn't stop laughing.)

He remembered one of the many times when the sheer emptiness of the walls had trapped his mind into thinking he was back in the VOID - alone, cold, and scared.

Thankfully, Delta was home at the moment. He rushed to help as usual, bringing Color back to reality.

And for the first time, Color began to speak.

He spoke about the VOID. The darkness. The same dull scenery, a memory long forgotten and yet forcefully re-experienced every single day.

That was when Delta decided to paint the walls.

He let Color help, of course. He allowed Color to pick out the paint, while he went to find the paint brushes - they remained in each other's sight the whole time, not daring to stray too far.

Color ended up picking out a blue-teal color, and once they had gotten home, they began to rearrange the furniture momentarily so they could protect the floor and such.

It took about three days to paint, which was a bit longer than either had planned. But in those three days, they had begun to talk, both sharing their respective stories about how they had gotten here.

Delta was much more open about it than Color was. But Color, being intuitive as ever, noticed that Delta never went into specific details - he only managed to say that things happened, and instead preferred to go on about his adventures fighting bad guys in the multiverse.

Color asked, once. Out of curiosity. He had asked why Delta had chosen to do that of all things.

Delta managed a quick response. It was witty, Color gave him that, but based on the guilt and hidden shame in their eyes, he knew it wasn't the full truth.

He asked if something had happened to make him not want to talk about it.

Delta dodged the question by changing the subject.

They didn't bring it up again.

He remembered the first time he had recieved a hug from Delta. It was during a panic attack, where Color was doubting his reality and everyone around him, desperately reaching out for anything to keep ahold of.

Delta could see the despiration in his eyes. The desperation to be loved, seen, wanted, remembered. He saw it. Without much thinking, they held him, drawing him close in one swift movement.

It was magical. Color truly had no idea what he had been missing until he had it - but he wasn't ready to let it go missing again.

He remembered collapsing into Delta's arms, sobbing into his chest as he desperately clung to him while Delta coaxed him down gently.

After about two hours of calming him down, Delta was allowed to make the mistake of attempting to let go. Color refused.

Luckily, Delta learned quickly, and did not attempt to let go until Color was ready. Color stayed attached to his hip for the rest of the day, terrified that if he let go, it would never return.

And during some of their late night talks, sometimes Delta would say that he couldn't remember a time where he didn't know Color. Days all blended together - unless something particularly exciting happened that set it apart from the other days.

Color wished he could say the same.

But in these months, these three fresh months, never had he felt so exhilarated and overwhelmed at the same time.

Every moment with Delta was precious. Delta had even managed to score Color a job at the same place so that he'd feel less alone - and would be able to adjust better.

Delta had always been the stronger one of of the two of them - from how he carried himself, to the way he'd threaten violence at any given second if someone so much as dared to breathe incorrectly in Color's direction. It was clear he was capable of great violence. Especially with how much he bragged about his fights in the past.

Color had never been more grateful to find a friend who was willing to tolerate his codependency. And Delta happily entertained it - they would never dare to admit it, but they were incredibly lonely.

And Color had learned how to carry himself, too - how to carry himself with utmost confidence, ensuring no one would dare to doubt him (except himself). He learned how to get away with most things, lying flawlessly without guilt if it was necessary. He learned that it was okay to ask for help when he needed to, when he wanted to. He learned how to love himself, even if it was just a little bit.

He learned how to interact with his Souls and Beta, and how to accept them as his reality. He learned how to be reckless and how to fight, but to also calculate and plan out moves and escapes when necessary. He learned that although life wasn't kind or safe all of the time, he had the power to make it a little kinder and a little safer - if not for himself, then for others.

He learned that for once, he had power and control over himself and his surroundings. He learned to apologize for mistakes and move on instead of deflecting them, and that it was okay to be angry and process the trauma that had been caused to him.

He had learned so much in these three months with them.

He remembered how he had doubted Delta at first, as he watched silently, analyzing every move and what it meant. Delta carried himself with nothing less than reckless confidence, so much so that no one dared to doubt him - even when he was blatantly wrong about something.

But when Delta showed him the kindness of acceptance, he doubted him a bit less each time. It didn't take too long for Color to feel comfortable enough to trust him with important things - buying and making the food, getting water, keeping them entertained and safe. Such simple things to Delta were the most important things to Color.

Yes, these memories and experiences were the core of their relationship - his favorites by far. But these dreamy memories of his were cut short by a sudden loud clang, triggering a harsh memory of when Delta had awoken to Color screaming after he accidentally hurt himself while making a late night snack.

The blood gushed out of his palm as the knife clattered to the ground, as Color frantically began to hyperventilate at the sight of his own blood.

Delta sprinted out of his room, running straight at Color as he managed to dial for help at the same time. How his hands were so steady as he sprinted at full force, Color still couldn't figure out.

He dragged Color to the bathroom, immediately beginning to hold it above Color's Soul to help stop the bloodflow as Delta got a tourniquet above the wound, on his wrist. He quietly reassured Color that the ambulance was on its way. His hands lit up in a soothing green glow, as they gently held his palm close.

He remembered the pure fear in Delta's eyes as he forcefully woke himself up, trying to hide it as they comforted Color. They whispered kind words of reassurance, holding him close as they let him cry on their shoulder.

He remembered when he was half asleep in the hospital bed, that Delta was sobbing as quietly as he could. Color couldn't hear it - but when he tried to roll his head over to look at Delta, he saw the other keeping their head down, shaking lightly as they breathed deeply, trying to hold it all in.

That was the first, and only, time that he had ever seen Delta get so scared that he cried. And it killed him to know that it was his fault his friend was crying.

In the morning, when Color woke up, Delta had clearly been awake. He wasn't sure if they had slept at all. They did not talk about the tears of last night, rather opting to check in on Color and his wound.

They did not bring it up again. And Color vowed to never make that kind of mistake again.]

Color jolted awake, with a short gasp for air as the loud, shattering clang echoed through the apartment.

His mind raced as he tried to figure out if he was still dreaming or not. He rushed to check his palm, only to see the wound closed up and scarred.

A thud followed.

His heart skipped a beat, as his body began to move without thinking. Within seconds, Color had ran from his bed to the kitchen...

... to find Delta collapsed on the ground, a pile of broken glass surrounding him.

His eyes were blank, a dull shade of the usual bright orange that greeted Color when he woke up. His expression held nothing of its normal composure, as his body slumped towards the ground on his knees.

Color froze, his eyes widening as he felt his Soul drop into his nonexistent stomach.

What the fuck?

What just happened?!

"Delta...?" His voice trembled as he spoke softly. He didn't want to startle the other.

No response.

[Is he sleep walking again? How did this even happen?] Color thought, slowly moving closer. He examined his roommate, checking for any external injuries, but there were none.

So, cautiously, Color reached out to lightly shake Delta's shoulder.

Still, no response.

Color's breathing began to get shaky as his mind raced with terrifying possibilities as to why they could be acting like this. Did something happen? Are they hurt? Were they dying? Did they need to go to the hospital? Was it even really them?

Delta wasn't even blinking. And with his hand now hesitantly resting on their shoulder, Color couldn't feel them breathing, either.

Color flinched when he realized that there was not a single movement from Delta. No flinching, no startle, not even breathing. Nothing.

He shook his roommate a little more aggressively, his breath catching in his throat as he desperately called out for him, "Delta?! Hey, come on, wake up!"

The harder Color shook him, the closer he got to getting Delta to snap out of it, even if it was just a little.

Finally, Color got desperate enough to smack him on the shoulder as hard as he felt comfortable.

As the hit landed, Delta's hand shot up and grabbed Color by the wrist, making the other flinch and gasp lightly in shock.

Delta's empty stare turned to Color, making him shiver.

He spoke softly, calling out to him, "Delta?"

Delta still gave no response. Didn't even blink. But after a minute, he slowly released Color's wrist from his grip. His hand dropped back down, hanging limply at his side.

Color was startled at how motionless it was. There was such little weight to his grip - nothing at all like he was used to. As his voice still shook, he called out again, "Delta?... can you hear me? Are you- can you answer me, please?"

He pleaded.

Luckily, he got a blink this time.

Color felt a bit relieved, at least knowing that Delta was awake now. But still, he awaited some kind of response, anything at all.

Their blank, empty stare was unnerving. There was absolutely nothing behind their eyes - just like the rest of their expression.

They tried to speak. Nothing came out.

Color's eyes widened in horror. "Delta?! Hey, hey, what's wrong? Is- is something wrong? Are you hurt? Why can't you speak? Did you-"

"I'm fine." An empty, desolate voice muttered in response.

Color flinched back, ripping his hand off of Delta's shoulder.

No. This wasn't him. This- this can't be him, right? It barely even sounds like him!

No, it can't possibly be. His eyes are too dull, voice too bleak. He wasn't even wearing his usual clothes, Color noticed. He was wearing a tank top, no gauntlets on, and black shorts and socks.

He had seen Delta sleep in those clothes before, but now it just looked wrong. Like it wasn't really them.

Was he having another nightmare?

Was this real?

There's no way this was Delta. There's just no way! There was no spark, no energy, no emotion, nothing! It was honestly creeping him out.

Seeing his brightest - and only - friend so lifeless just... wasn't right.

The Souls inside his head spoke softly, discussing what they should do to snap Delta out of it, if there was even anything they could do about it. Color listened to the options, but they all eventually agreed to try to talk to Beta first - see if he knew what was going on.

"Beta? Kiddo, you there?" Color called out, eyeing the time. It was around 3 in the morning. Surely the kid would be asleep, but maybe he could wake him up.

No response. But upon hearing his name get called out, Delta's eyes seemed to glaze over even more as their orange color slowly drained into white.

His eyes went wide as he helplessly watched all the color dissappear from their eyes.

"... okay. So that didn't work. Let's just... take him out of the glass." Color muttered to himself, slowly moving closer to Delta again.

Cautiously stopping outside of the ring of glass, Color reached down and grabbed Delta by the arms. Then, he slowly pulled him up, and dragged him out of the glass. He managed to lift them high enough to get him safely out of the ring.

Delta's body practically collapsed into Color, startling the other entirely. His whole body was just limp in Color's arms.

What was going on with them?

After adjusting the other, Color picked him up fully, and carried him over to the couch.

He gently lowered Delta onto the couch, having him lay down on his side in case anything happened. He sat on the ground in front of them.

There was a long moment of silence, before Delta spoke again.

"Are you here?" They murmured, staring emptily at the wall.

Color was surprised, but quickly nodded, "Yeah, I'm here, Del. I'm right here. Can you talk? What's going on?"

Delta tried to speak again, but nothing came out. So, slowly, they forced their arms to move up and began to sign.

'I'm sorry.'

Color was taken aback.

"... sorry for what?" He asked softly, moving a bit closer.

'I messed up. I failed.'

"What do you mean?"

'I hurt them. I couldn't save them.'

"Who couldn't you save?"

'You know.'

Color paused. Who was Delta talking about? Did they even know it was him?

"Do you know it's me, Delta?"

Delta paused for a moment. In truth, they really didn't know. But they felt the Bravery Soul nearby, and assumed it was Beta. 'Yes.'

Color breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright. But, who are you talking about?"

'Frisk.'

Color froze.

"... what do you mean? How did you fail them?" He murmured, looking over Delta's body language. But there was nothing to look at.

'They died. You know that. Don't make me say it, please.'

"Did you... have a dream about them?" Color asked, desperately trying to figure out what was going on. Why this sudden memory? And why now, of all times?

'Yeah. Was hurt again.'

"I'm sorry to hear that."

'Nothing we can do about it.'

"Do you... wanna talk about it?"

'I failed them. I couldn't save them. I killed them. It's all my fault.'

There was a long pause in their conversation. Hesitantly, Color asked, "... is something else bothering you?"

'I can't do it anymore.'

Color froze, his eyes slowly widening in terror as his Soul skipped a beat. "Wh-what do you mean by that?"

'He's hurting and I can't make it better. I'm failing him.'

The air around them held still as Color silently stared into Delta's dull eyes.

"... what?" He shakily reached to cover his mouth, absolutely horrified.

'I wanna help him so bad. But there's nothing I can do. I can't do anything right.'

"Hold on-"

'He hurts cause I can't make it any better. It's all my fault. I don't wanna fail him like the others, but I guess I'm not much good at protecting, either.'

"Delta."

'What do I have if I can't help him? Nothing. Got nothing. He got taken here so someone could help, and I can't even do that right.'

"Delta!" Color desperately tried to shake him awake, as tears pricked his eyes. What was going on? Did they really feel this way?

'It's all my fault. He's hurting and it's all my fault. Maybe they should put him with someone better. He deserves better than me.'

"Delta, listen to me-"

'First I hurt Frisk, and then Paps, and now I hurt him. Why can't I do anything right? Why can't I do what I'm supposed to? I wanna help but I keep hurting people. I'm so stupid.'

"Hey!-"

'I'm worthless if I can't help him. I have no use. They only like me when I can be useful, and I can't even do that right now. I'm such a burden. What is wrong with me?-'

"STOP!"

Delta stopped, as Color's chest heaved, breathing shakily as tears dripped down his skull.

It killed him to see how much pain Delta was in. He was heartbroken. Why hadn't they told him about this? Did they really feel like this all the time? No wonder they were so stressed out, the poor guy!

But seeing the still blank look in their eyes, Color knew he had to help.

He took a deep breath, wiping his eyes as he restrained his sobs. He couldn't cry. Not now. Not while his best friend needed him.

Once Color had calmed down quite a bit, he gently cupped Delta's face, holding it in his warm hands.

As small tears still leaked from Color's eyes, he spoke, voice trembling, "Delta, I need you to listen to me, please." He pleaded softly.

Delta nodded, 'Okay.'

Color took a deep breath as he spoke, "Delta, I don't know why you think these things or if anyone made you think them, but you are not a failure. You are not a burden, not to me or anyone else.

I don't know much about you. What you've been through, what you're going through, I don't know. You've done a really good job at hiding that. You let me know what you want me to know. I can't blame you for that - I do that, too.

But I don't want you suffering in silence. I may not be the best with emotions, and I might not be the best guy to hang around sometimes, but I care about you.

I'm sorry if I ever made you feel this way. But listen to me now - I don't think that you're a failure. I don't think you're a burden, or at fault for any of the things you've been through. Okay?"

Slowly, the color began to return to Delta's eyes. But still, he signed, 'I'm sorry. I'm weak.'

"No, you're not." Color insisted sternly, gently stroking the side of Delta's skull with his thumb, "You're not weak. You're not any of the horrible things you claim you are.

You're not weak. You're not a burden. You're certainly not a failure. And you're most definetly not stupid."

There was another pause, as Color calmed himself. And gently, still cupping Delta's face with his right hand, he trailed the other to Delta's hand, which had slowly dropped back down when they had finished speaking.

Delta managed to speak. "Why?" They whispered.

Color's eyes saddened. "Well, if you really don't know... then let me tell you.

Listen, I know we've only known each other for a couple months, but... you've helped me more than anyone else ever has. You've put up with me when no one else wanted to - when even I didn't want to. But you stuck by my side, didn't leave me alone, even when I annoyed you.

You protected me. Remember when that guy at the Cafe harassed me? You punched the shit out of him and then brought me home. You didn't let him hurt me, even though you didn't know anything about me at that point.

And the nightmares? You stayed with me. You woke me up when we stayed together in your room, even let me sleep in your bed while you slept on the floor when I was too scared to be touched. And even when I woke you up screaming, you held me, calmed me down. And you never got mad! You never yelled at me, even when you had work in the morning.

And at work, whenever I was able to show up, you always protected me, made excuses for me when I couldn't show up. You always kept me safe, even when you weren't around. They knew they couldn't hurt me because you'd hurt them back, even if you got in trouble for it.

You've helped me more than you even know. You taught me how to live again - literally! I didn't even know how to eat when I first got here, but you were patient enough to teach me how to use the utensils. You even helped me wash up when I physically couldn't do it myself.

You always got me to my doctor appointments, even leaving work early to drive me there. You put up with me even when I didn't want to go, and when I exploded because I was so scared of them. And you always made sure to call the doctors when I needed help and couldn't call anyone for myself, even when I got mad at you for it.

Even when I was tired and depressed, you took care of me. You made sure I ate and bathed at the very least, even if you couldn't drag me out of the house. You did everything that you could to help me, and succeeded. No one had ever done that for me before. You were the first.

You stuck by my side, even when I got sick and got you sick in return. I didn't mean to, I still feel kinda bad about it. But you never made me feel like a burden, or like it was a mistake that you got paired with me. You've always been so good to me.

You never made me feel like an asshole, even when I acted like it. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like this, but... you've saved me more times than I can even count.

Like that time when I was too paranoid to let anyone in the house, including you. You were patient with me and talked me down from the other side, even though I was having a panic attack because I was alone. You stayed with me until I was calm enough to use logic and let you in. And even still, you weren't mad at me! I honestly don't know how you put up with me sometimes.

And remember when I cut myself on accident that one night? You woke up and were literally at my side in seconds. And you called for help while calming me down, trying to keep me from passing out. You certainly weren't useless then, so why would you be now?

I know we didn't talk about it again after that night, but... I saw you crying when I woke up. I didn't even notice it at first - you were so quiet about it. But I saw it. And I'm sorry that I didn't say this before, but you're not weak for crying.

I'm not... even sure if that's what you're thinking right now. But in case you are, I really don't think you're weak for crying.

You never made me feel weak for crying. So why make yourself feel that way? You don't deserve that hate, even if it's coming from yourself.

I know I don't say it a lot, but I really care about you. Even when I'm scared or angry or overwhelmed with the world, you're the only good part of it. You've practically kept me sane! You've helped me in more ways than I can even count. And I certainly wouldn't call that failure, now, would I?" He smiled.

The longer Color spoke for, the more the orange spark return to Delta's eyes. And by the time he finished, Delta had come back into reality fully - having no clue what was going on or why, but appreciated being woken up from whatever had happened with fond memories and kind words.

Color smiled softly at them. "Hey, buddy. Glad you're back."

Delta nodded, propping himself up with the arm that Color wasn't holding. However, he gladly let Color's hand stay on his face, and lightly nuzzled into it, still confused, "Uh, hey... what happened? How'd I get here?" He asked softly, glancing around.

"I honestly have no idea. I heard glass breaking and saw you in the kitchen, but you weren't answering me - totally out of it. So I got you away from the glass and brought you over here. You didn't look hurt, but... you started talking, and-"

"Wait, wait, lemme stop you there. What do you mean I was in the kitchen?" Delta asked, his eyes going slightly wide as he realized that there was no lying out of this situation. He was going to have to tell Color about the episodes.

He sat up fully, making Color back up a bit and take his hand off of Delta's face. However, when he tried to let go of Delta's hand, he instead tightened his grip slightly - he didn't want to let go yet.

Color gladly obliged.

"Well, I got woken up by the glass, and saw you in the kitchen. You were on the ground and the glass was all around you. Don't know how you got there, though - your guess is as good as mine." He answered.

Delta nodded along, turning to look back into the kitchen. And sure enough, the ring of glass was still there, not yet cleaned up.

"... huh. That's really weird." They muttered.

Color couldn't help but snicker at that.  "You're telling me, man." He replied.

Delta turned back, his brain still processing all of this, "You said I woke you up? Shit, I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to."

"Hey, no, don't worry about it. Whatever happened, didn't look like you had much control over." Color replied, smiling reassuringly. "Do you remember anything?"

"Uhh, sorta. I remember I was laying in bed, then-" a look of realization dawned on their face. "... oh."

Color tilted his head. "What?"

"... um. Okay. I got something to explain." They muttered, sighing.

Color was even more confused. He motioned for Delta to go on, and he did. "So, I had a nightmare last night. And, sometimes, when I have nightmares, I tend to... dissociate."

"Dissociate?" Color repeated. The hell did that mean? Delta hadn't taught him that word yet.

"Yeah. Um, I lose grip on reality, I'd have no clue what's going on whatsoever. That brings me to a question, though. Did I say anything weird?" Delta looked nervous even asking it.

Color thought for a moment. Would he classify those things as 'weird'? I mean, they were definetly abnormal, so maybe that's what they mean.

He nodded. "I mean, for you, kinda. I've never heard you speak that way before."

Their Soul sunk. Oh fuck. What did they say?

"Oh, that's great." He muttered sarcastically.

Unfortunately, Color didn't quite understand sarcasm yet. He quickly replied, "Not really. It was kinda scary - you started going on about a lot of things, things I didn't even know you were thinking about. Do you want me to repeat it?-"

"No."

The sudden venom in their voice was startling enough to make Color stop. He quietly examined his friend. Had he said something wrong? Were they angry at him for talking too much? Why were they upset?

But when he looked at them, instead of anger, Color saw hurt. Their face was twisted in a deep sadness, clearly having not expected things to go down like this.

They didn't talk for a good few minutes, until Delta spoke up first.

"You weren't meant to know." He muttered, staring at the ground in shame.

Color tried to say something, but Delta continued on, "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to be weak. Not when you needed someone to help you. It'd be unfair of me to burden you after you just got out of basically solitary confinement for 20 years of your life.

And after everything I've seen you go through, fuck, you've been hurting so much. And it's not your fault at all - I ain't saying that I'm uncomfortable around you or anything like that, just... didn't think I'd need to tell you so soon. I'm sorry."

Color stared up at him for a long moment, before asking, "Do you think I'm weak for needing help, Delta?"

Delta tensed, instinctively looking up with pure worry in his eyes, "What?! No, not at all!"

But before he could say anything else, Color replied in an even tone, "Then why do you think that you're weak for needing help?"

Silence.

Delta stared at him, his eyes wide as he tried to figure out if Color was joking or not - if they had said something to upset him. But when they saw the empathy in his eyes, they realized what it really meant.

"... I guess I didn't... really think of it that way." They sheepishly admitted, glancing away from him.

Color couldn't help but smile, as he moved closer. He sat on the couch, and Delta gladly made room for him. Instinctively, like Delta had done many times for him, Color slinked an arm around his shoulder and held him close.

Delta tensed at first, but eventually relaxed into Color's arms.

"That's alright. I'm not mad, obviously. Can't really get upset at you for hiding things when I haven't exactly been the most vulnerable," Color said, making them both chuckle lightly.

"But, still. If you have these problems, I wanna help. It's not fair if you only help me and I don't help you back. So let me help. Okay?" Color asked softly, smiling at him.

Delta was surprised. He wasn't used to being able to let his guard down - he never knew when it was safe to relax without worrying about someone catching him and picking a fight when he was vulnerable.

Vulnerability was not a concept he was comfortable with yet.

But as he looked deep into Color's eyes, he knew that he was safe - he didn't know why, but... something inside him was telling him that he was safe to let his guard down.

He relaxed, nodding slowly as a smile crept up on his face.  "Okay."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Alright. You, uh, wanna talk about it?" Color offered, still concerned.

Delta thought for a moment, but shook his head. He really didn't. He didn't want to think about it anymore.

Color nodded, "That's okay. I definetly can't blame you for that. But, if you do, let me know - I'm here to listen, alright?" He asked, gently rubbing Delta's shoulder.

Delta nodded. "I will. Thank you."

"It's no problem. Think you can go back to sleep, or do you wanna stay up? We can watch a movie, or play a game - go on a walk, if you want." Color offered, knowing that Delta would probably need different options if he wanted a distraction.

Delta thought for a long moment, quietly speaking to Beta about what to do. They settled on a movie.

"I don't think I'm ready to go back to sleep. Could we watch something?" They asked quietly.

Color nodded, "That's fine. Need anything to drink, eat?"

They shook their head, "No, I'm alright. You can get something if you want to, though."

Color paused to think. But after all of this, he decided to just get up and grab Delta some water anyways. "I'm gonna get some water. Wanna come with?"

Delta debated it for a moment, but decided to get up with him. And the two quickly stood, and walked over to the kitchen.

"Watch the glass," Color reminded him, as he used his magic to get two mugs down for them.

Delta was distracted, however, and was now focused on getting something Beta was demanding - hot chocolate.

It was always the kid's favorite drink of choice after a bad nightmare. And after a night like this, they deserved it.

Color only seemed to notice when he heard the microwave start humming. He quickly turned around, to see Delta ready with a hot chocolate packet and extra marshmallows ready.

They both just stared at each other for a moment.

"... want one?" Delta offered. Color nodded, and went over to get started on his.

It took only a few minutes to prepare it, but Color was still confused. However, he wasn't sure if it'd be okay to ask.

Delta, intuitive as ever, knew he was confused. They answered before he asked, "Tradition for Beta and I. After a bad night, we get hot chocolate."

Color nodded, smiling lightly, "Awe, that's sweet."

The two finished their hot chocolates, and quickly headed back over to the couch. They placed their mugs on the table in front of them, getting out blankets and pillows so the couch would be more comfortable.

Once they had finished setting up, Color handed Delta the remote. "You pick."

Delta nodded, thanking him. But, to Color's surprise, he immediately started looking for The Lion King.

Color quickly turned to them, making Delta chuckle lightly, a bit embarrassed. "Tradition."

He chuckled, nodding back as Delta clicked 'play'. Color slung his arm around them again, holding them close as they drank their hot chocolates and watched the movie.

After a little bit, Delta found themselves getting lulled back to sleep as their body slowly relaxed. They tried to resist, not wanting to have another nightmare, but Color gently coaxed him into it.

The rest of the night was peaceful, as Delta fell asleep in Color's arms, holding them close - keeping them safe.

[sparkly-sediment]

Tf2 Mercs Period flow headcanons

Free will strikes again 😈😈

Heavy

The Red terror

Very heavy flow that last 6-7 days. The longest she’s had is 9 days and it took bear meat to recover

The blood is usually dark brown and overall a bit of a delayed flow

Calls it her menstrual cycle only. Heavy isn’t big on midol or pain relief (Russian grit af)

Will always use a warm water bottle tho

Only used scraps of fabric until her 20s. Heavy doesn’t like pads because they feel like diapers and she doesn’t fuck with tampons until she has sex for the first time so she won’t “loose her virginity to stick”

We need more sex education

Ultra tampons for business, free bleed in the period draws for leisure

Sniper

Bush woman

Some hardcore feminist shit. Walk into the woods and menstruate on a stick indigo girls concert transparent

(if you get that i love you)

Sniper normally just free bleeds or like dries out her vagina during bathroom breaks. She smokes weed for cramps and gets bad period diarrhea

Very light, irregular periods. Completely skips some months due to stress and malnutrition (and she looses her appetite on her period!!(

Severe period exhaustion 😮‍💨

Flow is bright red or faint. Might be some blood on the briefs on the first/second morning but then not much happening outside of clots.

Would have fertility issues I feel

Sniper gets anemic on her period and resists taking the supplements Medic recommends. Finally he fights her into taking them and, shocker! She’s not passing out when she stands

Has tasted her period blood clots. Canon I fear

Says on the rag

Demo

MENACE

Demo has a moderate flow but pretty gnarly cramps. The sharp, pulsing kind. Hurts like a bitch!!

Flushes tampons and could give two fucks

She drinks more on her period and has wicked period shits. Possibly the worst asshole cramps in the group, and don’t even get me started on sore nipples

Thick dark red blood. Not hard blood clots but large bloody goops and liquid. Has to shower more often on her period 😔

Super and super plus tampons and the hospital grade pads. Completely unnecessary but Demo gets the biggest most crinkly padding pads of all time!!! Why!!!???!!!

PCOS queen. Thicker body hair, wild anger at times, and cysts!!! When one bursts she finally goes to Medic who immediately gives morphine and some weird blue sludge

Pain was gone but she did wake up with a third kidney

Scout

Type of bitch to get pregnant while pregnant

What a nightmare! PMS like a mother fucker! Scout becomes a snappy little bitch on her period. Terrorizes the base and just crashes out for no reason

If you eat her food so help you God

Really strong cravings and really intense ovulation. Yk how some women really go into heat when they ovulate? Like REALLY lock in? That’s Scout

Fertile and loves chocolate but aggressive

BAWLS ON HER PERIOD and period breakouts

Lighter/moderate flow. More than Sniper but less than Demo

Running really helps her cramps but they usually go to about 5/10 at worst

Her boobs always hurt worse than anything else and she’ll wear a sports bra instead of wrapping them for work

regular tampons and refuses go wear a pad

Medic

I will be using he/him pronouns because period!medic isn’t a gender bend. Medic wanted to feel even closer to his baboons and so he installed the necessary organs to build and birth them

Unwanted and unforeseen side effect 😔

Sturdy but average flow and a very consistent cycle. Bright red with brown spotting towards the end. He keeps a calendar and tracks ovulation

He would have period sex. No question. And, in a sick and wicked manner, would blow them after 😋

horrible to imagine. Anyway, Medic has rougher periods with heavy hormone fluctuations. Intense mood swings, fatigue, and some month deals with painful ovarian cysts

His periods don’t normally have too bad cramps!! He’s just sore in the southern skies and has some lightning sharp stabbing pains in his asshole

Medicates fully and all the way except in the beginning when he monitored the function more closely

Light period acne heavy metalic scent. Feels very tender and hungry

Soldier

Free bleeds and gets blood everywhere

Heavy flow and pretty intense cramps. And, rage. Period rage. Heightened by her pain and immense discomfort and all of her sheets have stains

Dark brown blood and irregular. Can bleed for days and has had 11-12 day periods that completely drain her

Her cramps will leave her bed ridden. If she has to go to battle, there will be NO indication of her pain. She might even be worse to over compensate. But Soldier will run a little slower and land from rocket jumps much more gently

Cries in the locker room and respawn when alone 😭😭😭😭 my shayla

Unless she’s gassed up for battle Soldier is much quieter on his period and sluggish

Eats so much omg decimates that kitchen. The team has to have a meeting because they’ve gone to the store three days in a row, and this is the forth morning everything is gobbled down in the night by a certain greedy little rat

Every time she starts her period she marches into the medbay to LOUDLY announce it. This is the only time she ever mentions the topic of menstruation in relation to herself

Will say fucked up shit tho. Tells Scout blood attracts bears and viciously growls after finding Scout’s tampons

Spy

Eats steak almost nightly when on her period

She refuses to discuss such things with the team and calls it tasteless conversation

INTERNALIZED MISOGYNY and does everything she can to hide her period. Will use kitty perfume to avoid blood smell, tampons only and she hides the wrappers before throwing them out

Heavier flow with low pain. She’ll feel the most discomfort in the cervix area but she doesn’t experience much cramping

Red/brown mix and very spotting days 1-3. Day 3/4-5 is heavy flow and then day six is usually the end

Midol in a Tylenol bottle 😭

She becomes a wicked bitch. Horrifically snappy and will bite your head off. Some period shits. Boobs hurt the week before

Engineer

Her periods are dandy.

Yk how people say periods last 3-5 days? And you’re like, who the fuck is having three day periods?

It’s this gal

Engineer has some mild cramping but it lasts ALL day. From the first flutter of her eyes to the final rest, her uterus is aching

Tight period cramps and a lighter flow. She wears regular and lite tampons for two days and then is good

Bright red and thin blood. Never has big clots and rarely has goopy blood

Her discharge is tinted pink or brown for about a week though so it does balance out

She will smell really strongly of blood like the ripe period embarrassing smell

Working in the workshop when she catches a whiff of the 🩸🐱 but she likes feeling primal and will work into the dank night

Engineer eats all chocolate in the based and will probably eat every cookie too

Period rage that rivals Soldier’s

Pyro

Free bleeds and doesn’t practice good hygiene. She won’t change her clothes- including underwear- any differently despite having blood all up in it

Pyro doesn’t have much liquid blood, but a lot of clotting and clumps of tissue

Because of this and a lack of good hygiene she has a worse smell, and it is noticeable to others. Pyro always smells burnt though so it isn’t exactly traceable

Heavier flow, WOULD use super plus tampons

Pyro has worn pads in the past but she dislikes the diaper feel and she never likes the sensory experience of period products

She’s much sleepier on her period and will curl up to nap. If not in her bed then wherever

[hex800020]

Non-negotiable HCs I have (Jason edition):

Keeps candy in his jackets just in case some kid needs it (this includes his annoying brothers)

-•-

He’s a sleepwalker. When his nightmares hit too hard (usually in summer when the heat’s unbearable), he’ll wander around trying to escape them

-•-

He’s super tidy and regularly cleans his space

-•-

Loves Mean Girls. If he doesn’t know what to watch, he’ll put it on for the millionth time.

-•-

He “sneaks” into the manor to have “meetings” with Alfred (it’s a tea party, and everyone knows it)

-•-

We all know he collected Wonder Woman merch as a kid… coff coff still does coff

-•-

He’s not on the “separate the art from the artist” team, so if he finds out an author did something he doesn’t like, he won’t bother reading their books, no matter how brilliant or amazing they are.

-•-

Like every member of the Batfam, he struggles to admit when he’s wrong—but he tries to say it without actually saying it because, y’know, he’s super mature or whatever

-•-

He kidnaps his siblings instead of asking them to hang out…

-•-

One time, he accidentally called his teacher “mom” and the embarrassment still haunts him

-•-

Writes really well—even in texts, he uses perfect punctuation, capitalization, etc.

-•-

Listens to My Chemical Romance but doesn’t want Dick or Tim to know because they’d call him “emo” (they already do)

-•-

His Red Hood chest emblem was originally an upside-down Robin, like it was falling

(I’m pretty sure I saw this somewhere on TikTok, but I don’t remember where. Still feels believable.)

[Next HCs will be about Steph (already done)]

<< Parte 1 | Parte 2 | Parte 3

[jewish-vents]

Just experienced antisemitism in public for the very first time in my life. I saw a post about a girl testifying against antisemitism and wanted to share mine, especially since i'm a French Jew too. This country is a nightmare for Jews and for the first time, I'm seriously considering moving out after I was verbally assaulted at my workplace yesterday. This past year I've been reading tons of posts and tweets about antisemitism and how much it impacts Jewish lives and I was horrified. But somehow I always was reassuring myself that nothing would be happening to me for some reason. I'm going trough it right now and I'm anxious, it made me question my whole opinion about Muslims/Arabs not gonna lie.

I just got a job in an airport and my company wants me to do some training and do some classes for the job. Everything was doing well, until the teacher asked each of us which countries we visited the past years. And since I've been to Israel and Dubai last year, I said it. I never meant to provoke or hurt anyone in the class. Immediately, a NorthAfrican/Arab guy in my class said "Israel is not a country, it's Palestine and it's occupied" I was like "??????" So I said gently and respectfully "No it's not, Israel is a beautiful country btw" and immediately this Arab guy said in a threatening manner, pointing his finger up "Be very careful of what you say, don't speak about Palestine. You're a Jew living in France this is not your land. Do you know supporting genocide and racism against Arabs is illegal in this country" (I live in PARIS btw) and I was like what on earth is going on... I was in shock this was pure antisemitism thrown in my face. I've never been racist against anyone, and I would never harm an Arab or a Muslim person just because they are. The f!ck.

I felt uneasy and not well, but the class went on, and the teacher was showing some pictures of products that are prohibited on plane and stuff. And the picture of a AK-47 showed up and the same Arab guy said "it's what the Palestinians used on october 7 al Hamdoulilah" I knew he was trying to provoke me and it worked. I gasped and told him "are you serious ?" Quickly, the teacher intervened to defend him saying "Palestinians are only using rocks, poor quality slingshots, they're defending themselves, he's right". I was boiling inside but I answered politely "They kidnapped and killed innocent people, it's not okay to defend a terror!st group in my opinion". And this Arab guy shouted so loud in the class saying "Stop trying to play the victim because you're Jewish!! there's no innocents in Israel! They tried to get their freedom back, they have an October 7 everyday!" - I was in shock. Not only he felt comfortable pointing out I was Jewish in a very negative manner ("playing the victim") but he was expressing freely his antisemitism in the class in front of everyone and the teacher included, justifying a terror act and no one opened their mouths. In fact some girls in the class were enjoying the "drama" and laughing.

It didn't stopped. Later in the class, the teacher was explaining how to help passengers in an airport, etc, and another one (Muslim guy) said "I don't care. If I meet French passengers trying to go to Israel in the airport, I will give them false informations, I will do everything in my power to stress them out and make them miss their flight, I hate THEM so much". When he said "THEM", I immediately understood he meant Jews, French Jews. And the teacher didn't said a thing, instead smiled. Just a bunch of people in the class simply admitting being ready to discriminate/threatens any average Israeli citizen/Jewish life, because of antisemitism. So scary. The situation was out of control. All because I said I visited Israel to answer the tutor questions regarding traveling. I realized how much you can be in danger just by mentioning Israel and I admit I regretted saying it. Would they have reacted the same if I told them I had visited Iran who makes women lives a living hell ? Or Afghanistan ? Or Syria ? Of course not.

I realized at that moment how much the pro-Palestine propaganda brainwashed them to the point they can no longer hide their antisemitism it in real life and think it's completely normal. How much can they hate a country they never visited ? People they never met ?

I couldn't wait until the class was finished. I was so angry at myself for not standing up more for Israel and exposing their antisemitism but I was scared for myself at the end, I don't want any problems. I just hate those classes right now and can't imagine having to support these coworkers, I get so much anxiety. I'm sorry but I just hate Arab/Muslims antisemitism. They are the first to point out islamophobia (rightfully) but then be vicious antisemites. Besides, the muslim men in the class made me uneasy. They felt superior to me because I was a Jewish AND a girl, and imposing their views on everyone. I'm even thinking of stopping the classes.. Just disgusting. I hate this feeling and I don't wanna feel like this forever. Why does it had to happen to me, I've never been hateful to anyone :(

I'm so sorry this happened to you Anon. I'd have been terrified too. You should reach out to HR or whatever similar entity you have there. I hope you stay safe, sending you so much love

-🐺

[ramen8008]

A small reunion where Grover hugs Frank and Hazel saying, "thanks for taking care of him". Because he knows the anxiety they went thru with this kid putting his life on the line

After Tartarus is even more common for Percy to use his empathy link with Grover so instead of nightmares he gets to talk to Grover

Annabeth wonders what are the chances she could link with Grover as well. Percy talks to her about everything Grover said

Grover is vegan and Piper is vegetarian. Annabeth and Percy are used to vegan food so they'd randomly make suggestions to Piper and Leo, "Grover loves this sauce and it's 100% vegan"

Everyone else "Percy we can't do that we will all die. This plan doesn't work it's too dangerous" and Percy is just like "Grover would have gone through with it 💔😔" while Annabeth's only reply is "he would have dragged your ass afterwards for it too"

"I miss Groverrrrrr"

STORIES!?! They could have literally just shared some stories "You know that reminds me of when we almost died this one time with Grover"

The others would learn the Grover had been Percy's best friend before he even knew he was a demigod

"Exploding that would be so much easier if Grover was here" the others "???" Annabeth "yeah his piping skills would have been so useful" the others "??!?!"

I feel like the understanding that could have been if Grover was actually there. The way he would talk to Jason would make Jason feel like he's not alone. He would tell others stories of the other campers and make everyone feel more seen, Frank, Hazel, Jason, Leo, Piper, Hades NICO as well . He knows how messed up some demigods' lives are. He'd be a rock for so many.

as an insufferable celestial trio stan, here are all the ways grover could have been incorporated in heroes of olympus (because oh boy, i have THOUGHT about it):

a small dialogue right after the stables scene where percy and annabeth are red in the face that 'grover wouldn't have grounded us' 'i miss grover'

anytime percy has some internal conflict monologue thing? boom! just add in a dream conversation with grover where he talks about it! let grover ask why he feels a panic attack coming from percy after tartarus! let percy try to justify it and fail miserably! let grover feel horrible for not being there in person!

a reunion. i assumed that it was basic common sense to include a reunion but i guess rick just decided to forget grover at the end of blood of olympus. but yeah. crying, hugging, cheering!! we deserve it!!

"piper walked into annabeth's room. it was simply decorated, with a plant garden on the windowsill that annabeth said helped connect her to one of her friends back home, which piper didn't understand" see my vision??

for example if some monster shows up let percy and annabeth storm out of a room like "EXCUSE ME WE WERE BUSY IM-ING GROVER WHAT'S GOING ON??"

[koyagifs]

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓮𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽: 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓽 𝓱𝓲𝓶!

pairing: poly!ot8 x reader au: werewolf | camp counselors | the quarry genre: angst | horror | fluff (?) word count: 3.3k synopsis: you had no choice, you had to do it. right? warning(s): Minors do not interact! blood, gun, wounds. very mean hongjoong. cursing.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @tunafishyfishylike

You had given up, hanging upside down on his shoulder, the blood rushing to you head began to make you dizzy. Nearly passing out, Hongjoong finally came to an halt. Dropping you to the ground, you landed with a thud. looking around, you noticed a makeshift shelter. It stunk and it nearly made you want to vomit.

You groaned, rubbing your sore shoulder as you struggled to sit up, your head spinning from the blood rushing back to its proper place. “What the hell, Hongjoong?” you snapped, your voice hoarse but defiant.

Hongjoong ignored your words, his movements methodical as he crouched near the bundle of sticks in the center of the makeshift shelter. It looked like some kind of nest—crude and chaotic, yet disturbingly purposeful. The smell of decay hung heavy in the air, making your stomach churn.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Hongjoong said sarcastically, glancing at you with a sharp smile. There was something unhinged about the way he spoke, like he was teetering on the edge of sanity.

“This… this is where you’ve been?” you asked, your voice shaky as you took in the filthy surroundings. “How long have you been living like this?”

“Since the night everything changed,” he replied simply, his tone detached as he poked at the bundle of sticks. “It’s not much, but it keeps me hidden. Safe.”

“Safe from what?” you demanded, forcing yourself to your feet despite your wobbling knees. “From us? From the people who care about you?”

Hongjoong let out a bitter laugh, standing up and dusting his hands off. " care is a word i wouldn't use. No one bothered to check up on me or Mingi."

Your breath caught at his words, the bitterness in his voice cutting deeper than you expected. “That’s not fair,” you said, your voice trembling. “We thought—you and Mingi were supposed to be safe. We didn’t even know—”

“You didn’t know because you didn’t ask!” Hongjoong snapped, his golden eyes blazing as he stepped closer. “You all just assumed everything was fine. You carried on with your summer while Mingi and I were out there, fighting to survive!”

You took a step back, his anger overwhelming. “That’s not true,” you whispered. “We—”

“Don’t lie to me, YN,” he interrupted, his voice low and cold. “Do you know how many times I thought about coming back? About telling you all what happened? But every time, I realized it wouldn’t matter. You were safe. You didn’t need us.”

“That’s not true,” you said again, louder this time, your fists clenching at your sides. “We needed you, Hongjoong. We still need you. Mingi needs you. But instead of coming back, you—”

“I what?” he challenged, stepping even closer until he was mere inches away. “Tell me, YN. What did I do? Survive? Adapt? Because that’s all I’ve done since the moment this nightmare began.”

Your throat tightened, his proximity making it hard to breathe. “You shut us out,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t even give us a chance.”

For a moment, something flickered in Hongjoong’s eyes—a hint of regret, of pain. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the cold, hardened mask he’d been wearing since the moment you found him. In a blink, his hands were wrapped around your neck a sick smile on his face he glared at you.

" chance? you want a chance, well you're about to get it princess,"

Your breath hitched as Hongjoong’s grip tightened around your neck, his golden eyes glowing with a mix of menace and something unrecognizably fractured. You clawed at his hands, panic surging through your veins as your feet barely touched the ground.

“Hongjoong,” you choked out, tears pricking your eyes. “Please—this isn’t you—”

He leaned in closer, his sick smile twisting further as he whispered, “You don’t know who I am anymore, princess. You think you can save me? Fix me?” He let out a dark chuckle. “I’m long gone.”

Hongjoong mouth moved quick, biting down on your shoulder as a scream rippled in the air.

Pain shot through your body like lightning, radiating from where Hongjoong’s teeth sank into your shoulder. The scream tore from your throat, raw and desperate, echoing through the makeshift shelter. You clawed at him, shoving against his chest, but his grip was unrelenting.

“Hongjoong, stop!” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as your strength faltered. “This isn’t you!”

When he finally pulled back, blood stained his lips, his golden eyes wild and feral. He looked at you, breathing heavily, and for a brief moment, something human flickered in his gaze—recognition, horror, regret.

But it was fleeting.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, stepping back as you clutched your wounded shoulder, your vision swimming from the shock and pain. “Now you’ll understand,” he muttered, his voice low and trembling. “What it’s like to lose control. To feel the monster inside.”

You tried to stand, your legs shaking beneath you. “Hongjoong, please,” you croaked, the metallic tang of blood filling your senses. “You don’t have to do this. You’re still you. You can fight it.”

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You don’t get it, do you?” he hissed. “I’m already gone. And now, you will be too.”

Before you could respond, he turned and disappeared into the forest, leaving you crumpled on the ground, clutching your bleeding shoulder as a wave of terror and despair washed over you.

Mingi froze, his breath hitching as your scream tore through the air like a knife. The sheer anguish in it made his stomach twist. He glanced at the others, their faces pale with fear, their wide eyes mirroring his own panic.

“Go!” Mingi barked, taking off in the direction of your voice without waiting for a reply.

The group followed, their footsteps pounding against the forest floor, hearts racing as adrenaline coursed through their veins. Seonghwa, gripping the bat tighter, muttered, “Please, let her be okay,” under his breath like a prayer.

Wooyoung, his mind spinning with worst-case scenarios, snapped, “We should’ve stayed closer to her!” His voice cracked, the guilt evident in his tone.

“Shut up and run!” Mingi growled, his long strides cutting through the thick underbrush as he led the way.

As they neared the source of the scream, Mark pulled ahead, his knife drawn and ready. “Stay behind me!” he ordered, his sharp tone leaving no room for argument.

When they burst into the clearing, the sight before them stopped them dead in their tracks.

You lay on the ground, clutching your shoulder, blood seeping between your fingers. Your face was pale, your body trembling. The air was thick with the coppery scent of blood, and the makeshift shelter loomed ominously behind you.

“YN!” Seonghwa’s voice cracked as he sprinted toward you, dropping to his knees beside your limp form.

Your head whipped quickly and in horror as you began to yell at them. " no! It's a trap!!"

Seonghwa froze mid-step, your frantic screams cutting through the air like a knife. His heart stopped as he processed your words.

"A trap?" Mingi echoed, his sharp gaze darting around the clearing, his instincts flaring. "What kind of trap?"

Before you could answer, the sound of rustling leaves and snapping branches filled the air. Shadows moved in the trees, growing closer, encircling the group like predators stalking their prey.

“Shit,” Mark hissed, raising his knife defensively as he spun around to cover the group’s rear. “They’re already here.”

Wooyoung grabbed Seonghwa’s arm, yanking him back. “We can’t stay out in the open!” he shouted, panic lacing his voice.

“No!” you cried, your voice cracking. “He wants you to run! He’ll pick you off one by one!”

Mingi’s eyes widened as he realized what you meant. “Hongjoong…” he growled, gripping his weapon tighter. “He’s herding us.”

“Then what do we do?” Jongho asked, his voice trembling as he looked between you and the advancing shadows.

“Stand your ground,” Mark ordered, his voice steady despite the chaos erupting around him. “Don’t let them separate us.”

Seonghwa hesitated, his heart torn as he glanced at your injured form. “We can’t just leave her here!”

“I’ll be fine,” you gasped, tears streaming down your face. “Just… don’t let him get you.”

Mingi stepped forward, his one good eye blazing with determination. “We’re not leaving anyone behind,” he said firmly. “If Hongjoong wants to play games, we’ll end it here.”

The group tightened their formation, weapons at the ready as the shadows drew closer. The forest seemed to come alive with unnatural sounds—low growls, snapping twigs, and the faint sound of heavy breathing.

And then, out of the darkness, a figure stepped forward, golden eyes glinting in the moonlight.

“Welcome to my den,” Hongjoong said, his voice cold and dripping with malice. A cruel smile played on his lips as he surveyed the group. “I was hoping you’d come.”

“Let them go, Hongjoong,” Mingi demanded, his voice low and deadly, finger twitching over the trigger. “Whatever twisted game this is, it ends now.”

Hongjoong tilted his head, his cruel smile widening as he took a step forward. “Oh, Mingi. Always so quick to bark orders, but you still don’t get it, do you?” He gestured lazily toward Yeosang and San, who stood rigidly at his sides, their golden eyes glowing in the dim light. “They’re not yours to save anymore. They belong to me now.”

Your heart broke at the sight of San and Yeosang—your San and Yeosang—standing there, their bodies tense and their expressions blank, like puppets waiting for their master’s command.

“San,” you whispered, your voice trembling as tears welled in your eyes. “Yeosang… please.”

They didn’t move. They didn’t even blink.

“Don’t waste your breath, princess,” Hongjoong sneered, his eyes gleaming with delight at your despair. “They’re mine now. Just like you will be soon enough.”

Mingi stepped forward, his gun still trained on Hongjoong. “Over my dead body.”

Hongjoong’s smile turned razor-sharp. “That can be arranged.”

Mingi huffed, holding his hold on Hongjoong as he turned to Seonghwa and Yunho who was holding you up. Mingi looked at your shoulder, his heart dropping as he realized that you've been bit.

“Damn it,” Mingi muttered under his breath, his grip tightening on the gun. His gaze flicked to your pale, trembling form, then back to Hongjoong, fury blazing in his single visible eye. “You bit her?”

Hongjoong shrugged nonchalantly, as if the act was no more significant than swatting a fly. “She’ll thank me later. Maybe not now, but when she realizes how much better this is—how much stronger—she’ll understand.”

Seonghwa’s jaw clenched, his arm steadying you as you sagged against him. “You’re a monster, Joong.”

Hongjoong chuckled darkly, his gaze flicking to Seonghwa. “Funny, coming from someone who helped make me this way. You all did, in your own little ways. But enough chit-chat.” He gestured lazily at his pack. “Take them.”

San and Yeosang stepped forward, their movements unnaturally fluid and deliberate. Mingi quickly raised his gun, his aim wavering slightly as he hesitated.

“San, Yeosang,” Mingi called, his voice cracking. “Don’t do this. Fight it.”

But neither of them flinched, their glowing golden eyes locked onto him with a predatory focus.

“Mingi, don’t!” Wooyoung shouted, his voice trembling. “You can’t shoot them!”

“I know!” Mingi snapped, the frustration and pain evident in his voice. “But what the hell else am I supposed to do?”

The deafening crack of the gunshot echoed through the air, silencing the chaos for a moment. Hongjoong staggered back, his twisted grin faltering as blood blossomed across his chest. His golden eyes widened in shock, a mix of anger and betrayal flashing across his face.

Everyone froze, their eyes darting between you and Hongjoong.

“Y/N, what did you—” Seonghwa started, but his voice was drowned out by the guttural snarl that tore from Hongjoong’s throat.

He clutched his wound, his body trembling as he let out a laugh—low and menacing. “You… really think that’ll stop me?” he rasped, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re stronger than I thought, princess.”

Your hands shook as you held the gun, tears streaming down your face. “You’re not him anymore,” you choked out. “You’re a monster, Joong.”

Hongjoong straightened, the bullet wound still oozing but seemingly not slowing him down. His pack members snarled in unison, their glowing eyes locked on you now.

“Bold of you,” Hongjoong sneered, his voice chillingly calm. “But you’ve just made things worse for yourself. You’ll regret that.”

Mingi grabbed your arm, pulling you back as the pack began to advance again. “We need to move, now!” he barked.

The group sprang into action, retreating into the forest as the pack lunged forward. Mingi yanked the gun from your trembling hands as Seonghwa and Yunho supported you on either side, your legs barely able to carry you.

“Joong’s not going to stop now,” Mingi muttered, his voice tight with urgency. “You’ve pissed him off.”

“Good,” you whispered, though your voice shook. “Maybe it’ll buy us time.”

Wooyoung glanced back, his expression a mix of fear and determination. “What’s the plan now? We can’t outrun them forever.”

“We find shelter,” Mingi said, his tone grim. “And we figure out how to end this—once and for all.”

Behind you, Hongjoong’s furious howl tore through the night, sending chills down everyone’s spine.

The room felt heavy, the tension palpable as everyone processed what had just happened. The faint murmurs of Mingi and Mark arguing in hushed tones barely registered in your mind. Seonghwa placed a tentative hand on your shoulder, his grip gentle but grounding.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice laced with worry. “Talk to me. Are you okay?”

You blinked slowly, your gaze fixed on the cracked wall in front of you. The events replayed in your mind—Hongjoong’s laughter, the pack’s glowing eyes, the blood. “No,” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m not okay.”

Yunho shifted uncomfortably beside you, his usual warmth replaced with unease. “We’re going to fix this,” he said, though the uncertainty in his tone betrayed him. “We’ll figure something out.”

Your fingers grazed the edge of San’s oversized shirt, the fabric suddenly feeling suffocating against your skin. “I shot him,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “I shot Hongjoong. I—I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You did what you had to,” Seonghwa said firmly, his voice steady despite the chaos surrounding them. “If you hadn’t, he would’ve killed all of us. Don’t blame yourself.”

Before you could respond, Wooyoung and Jongho returned, a small, dented first aid kit in Jongho’s hands. Wooyoung knelt in front of you, his usually playful expression replaced with one of deep concern. “Let me see your shoulder,” he said softly.

You hesitated, the weight of the bite suddenly feeling unbearable. Slowly, you shifted the collar of your shirt to reveal the angry, bloodied wound. Everyone stared, the reality of what the bite meant sinking in like a knife to the heart.

Jongho sucked in a sharp breath, his hands gripping the first aid kit tightly. “We need to clean it,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.

“Will that even help?” Yunho asked, his voice cracking. “We all know what a bite means.”

“It means she’s one of them now,” Mingi’s voice cut through the room, cold and resolute as he and Mark approached. “Unless we do something about it.”

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened. “And what exactly do you suggest we do, Mingi?”

Mingi’s gaze flicked to you, his expression unreadable. “There’s only one cure,” he said quietly. “And it’s not something any of us want to consider.”

Your heart sank, the weight of his words hitting you like a tidal wave. “What do you mean?” you whispered.

Mingi hesitated, his fingers twitching at his sides. “The only way to stop the transformation is… to kill the one who bit you.”

Seonghwa’s face reddened with anger, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "You think killing him is the answer? After everything we’ve been through? We’re just supposed to—" His voice broke, the weight of the situation finally getting to him.

Mingi took a deep breath, frustration evident in his eyes. "I don't want this. You think I wanted Hongjoong to be like this? We have to stop him, Seonghwa. He’s a danger now, to all of us. To you, to Yn..." Mingi’s gaze flicked to you, and for a brief moment, the hardness in his eyes softened. "I know it’s not fair. But we’re running out of time. If we don’t act, it won’t just be Hongjoong. It will be Yeosang, San... anyone they bite. They’ll turn into—"

"A pack of monsters," Mark finished grimly, his voice low. "This isn’t something we can ignore or wait to fix. It’s already too late."

You squeezed your eyes shut, the reality of the situation sinking in. Hongjoong, your friend, your lover—could he really be turned into something so... monstrous? "But... there has to be another way," you whispered, your voice shaking.

"We’ve tried everything," Mingi said, his tone softer now, almost apologetic. "Believe me, if there was another way, I would’ve taken it. But this is what we’re left with." His eyes flicked to the first aid kit that Wooyoung and Jongho had laid out. "You’re already infected, Yn. The only thing that will stop it is cutting off the source. If you don’t... we don’t know how long you have before it consumes you too."

Your heart pounded in your chest, the thought of losing any more of the people you loved was too much to bear. San, Yeosang, and now possibly Hongjoong... all of them turned, lost to this curse. The weight of the decision pressed heavily on you, and your body trembled with the thought of what had to be done.

" i can't believe you actually shot hyung.." Jongho mumbled as he finished covering your wound.

" we have a bad ass girlfriend Jongho," Wooyoung teased, trying to get a smile out of you but it didn't work.

You barely managed to chuckle at Wooyoung's attempt, the weight of the situation still heavy in your chest. You didn't feel like the "badass girlfriend" he was teasing about; instead, you felt like you were spiraling, lost in the chaos that had consumed everyone around you.

Jongho finished bandaging your shoulder, his eyes lingering on the wound for a moment, before he sat back, clearly still shaken by everything that had happened. "I just... I don't get it," he muttered, wiping his hands on his pants. "How did it all get so messed up so fast? One minute we're just trying to survive summer, and now—" He trailed off, the reality of their situation settling heavily on him.

Seonghwa, still tense, turned to look at you, his expression softening as he saw how much this was affecting you. He reached out, placing a hand on yours. "Yn, we'll get through this. I know it's hard, but we will find a way. We can't give up, not now."

But his words didn’t feel like enough. You couldn’t shake the images of Hongjoong, San, Yeosang—everything that had happened, everything that was still to come.

“I shot him, Seonghwa,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “I shot Hongjoong.” The guilt settled over you, cold and heavy. “I didn’t have a choice... but what if—what if I made it worse?” Your voice broke as you looked at the others, the fear that you might’ve just lost them all becoming unbearable.

Wooyoung shifted on his feet, his playful demeanor falling away as he stepped closer to you, his voice serious. “No, Yn. You did what needed to be done. If you hadn’t... who knows what he would’ve done next? You kept us safe. You kept yourself safe.”

You nodded, but it still didn’t feel like enough. The truth of the situation was stark, and the feeling of being trapped in this nightmare only deepened.