#before The Spoons For Peopling and The Spoons For Recreational Work were spooning from the same source

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

1 % anxiety/survival habits/terror , 10000000% joy of creation . ideal state of being imo but thus far believed to be unreachable for me because of The Horrors

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (21)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: T Words: 2k Summary: Walking after midnight

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

The three men are Travis, Javier, and Bossman. You knew that wasn’t his actual name but so far no one had called him anything different. He was the one that the Cowboyhad seemed to know. The youngest, Travis, was guarding you and you made a point of being overly solicitous. Giving him wide smiles and thanking him when he helped you tend to business.

The Cowboy hated it.

Every time you batted your eyelashes at the boy, or touched him on the arm, you could see a vein start to throb on the Cowboy’s forehead. It gave you the tiniest bit of satisfaction to see it. 

They were letting him walk free, for the moment, but you caught the glances Javier and Bossman kept throwing him. It had been a split second decision, saving his life. Or maybe you had just been saving yours. Could you both have survived a shootout? Maybe. But you weren’t ready to risk that just yet.

You wait til Travis is next to you and purposefully trip, grabbing for his arm as you fall in slow motion. The boy is there immediately and you let your fingers rub across the inside of his wrist as you part your lips and gasp up at him.

“Oh my, thank you so much.”

The Cowboy snorts. You ignore it.

Travis is staring at you like he’s never seen a woman before. Good, you can work with that.

“I’m so sorry, my feet are really hurting. Is there any way we could stop for a bit? Let me rest?” You twist as you ask the question, turning his hand so the back of it brushes across your breast.

Was that a growl?

“Yeah, yeah we can do that,” Travis tells you with a blank gaze. You should probably feel bad about what you’re doing but it wasn’t your fault the kid had a weak mind. He yells at the other two that you’re taking a break and after some brief bickering between the men you lower yourself next to a rusted out car and primly fold your feet under you.

“If don’t suppose you gentleman brought any food?” you ask, purposefully hiding the slightly hopeful lilt to your voice. 

“Beans,” Javier grunts, pulling a dented can from his pack. “Ain’t nothing fancy.”

“Oh!” You brighten and sit up straighter, purposefully pushing your breasts towards him. “He has my pack with my spices in it - I’m sure I could make us all something lovely.”

“What kind of spices?” Bossman asks skeptically and you hide your grin.

There were two ways to a man’s heart…

They have to cut your wrists free so you can cook and you make a point of laying a thankful hand on Javier’s arm as he does so. He blinks at you a moment before turning away and you hum a tune as you start a small fire and hang a pot over it.

“Never cooked a damn thing for me,” the Cowboy grunts from nearby.

“Maybe I don’t like you as much,” you tell him brightly, winking at Bossman. He seems startled but grins at you in return.

Yeah, someone is definitely growling. You have a pretty good idea who.

You keep them all engaged in idle chatter as you add a variety of things to the beans, including some meat from the Cowboy’s pack. His lips twitch as you do so and you try not to think too hard about what it might be.

What they don’t know won’t hurt them.

When you finish you have a passable recreation of a comfort dish from long before the great war and you offer heaping spoonfuls to the men.

“Strong men like you need a good portion,” you tell Javier, adding an extra scoop.

“I’d hate to see you go hungry,” you tell Bossman, letting your lips part and trying to look concerned.

“Bullshit.”

The word is barely audible and you give the Cowboy a quick glare before turning your attention to Travis. “Is there anything else I can do?”

You were, in short, the perfect hostess. Part and parcel of being the perfect wife. The perfect partner. The perfect everything.

The pheromones you’re giving off in droves probably help too. 

It takes a little concentration to do it, to turn on the charm that makes people’s jaws go slack and eyes cross. You have to focus on being soft, giving, keep your emotions in check. 

The Cowboy is not helping.

“You gonna serve me up a bit of that slop?”

Your smile becomes strained and you blink at him for a moment before replying. “Sure! Got a bowl?”

He holds out a beaten up cup and you give him about half what you’d given everyone else. His forehead moves, raising a non-existent eyebrow, and your lips press together as you dare him to say something.

“Thank you kindly.”

You don’t hit him with the spoon. That would give the game away.

Instead you take your meal and settle down between Bossman and Javier, close enough your knees touch theirs. The Cowboy watches you thoughtfully and you do your best to ignore him.

“I didn’t realize how hard it would be to be out here on my own,” you say after a few minutes pass. “Everything is so dangerous.”

Travis nods at you, eyes wide, while Bossman scoffs. “Takes someone hard as nails to survive out here.”

The Cowboy snorts and you quickly cough to cover it up. “I just thought I’d see the world a little bit, you know? But I think… I mean, I’m really grateful you all found me.”

“We’re here to help,” Javier says with about half as much sarcasm as you might have expected.

“Ain’t we just,” the Cowboy chimes in and you meet his eyes. 

Shut the fuck up, you try to tell him with your mind.

What the fuck are you doing? He seems to beam back.

With an overly dramatic yawn you stretch your arms out, taking a deep inhale and purposefully not noticing how the assembled company stare at your chest. “I suppose we should continue on? I’m so tired…”

The men exchange a glance while the Cowboy continues to give you an incredulous look. Bossman is who speaks up.

“Reckon we can spend the night here as good as any, sun’s about to set soon anyway.”

“Oh really?” You reach over and put a hand on his knee, concentrating all your energy on him. “That would be lovely.”

He looks a bit starstruck and you pull your pack close to you, futzing with it a moment before laying down and using it as a pillow. You keep up your internal monologue - soft, gentle, caring - while you fake falling asleep.

After a few moments you hear the Cowboy cough, and then the sound of his inhaler.

“You got enough of that shit, ghoul?”

“I won’t be eating any of you fellas in the night if that’s what you’re asking.”

A silence and then, “Well, I’d feel safer if you were tied up.”

“I bet you would.”

There’s a slight scuffle of feet, not a fight, just two people trying to move quickly, and you peek out to see two of them tying the Cowboy to an old phone pole.

“Ain’t nothing personal,” Bossman tells him and the Cowboy shrugs.

“I’ll try not to take it that way.”

You pretend to sleep on, not a single restraint on you.

It takes four hours before you’re ready to implement phase two of your plan. It’s well past dark and the snores next to you are loud enough to wake the dead. If you’re right, Travis is on watch.

He doesn’t have a chance.

You stretch with your back to him, rubbing at your eyes and feigning sleepiness. When you spot him you give a ‘surprised’ smile and move his direction with your pack. Setting it nearby you use it as a rest as you sit down.

“Got the short straw, huh?”

Travis nods, eyes focused on the fire and not the mile of thigh you may or may not be showing him. He seems like a good kid - awful line of work but a good kid. From the corner of your eye you note the Cowboy is watching you both, although he’s mercifully silent.

“Your back must be killing you,” you tell him softly. When he doesn’t reply you reach over and gently massage the back of his neck. “Oh wow, you’re so tense.”

“Gotta stay awake,” he finally mumbles and you tsk softly, moving behind him.

“Let me help with this, I’ll feel safer knowing you’re not in any pain.”

It doesn’t take a moment to find the artery you’re looking for, and Travis is in such a daze he doesn’t notice you’ve cut off the blood flow to his brain until it’s too late to fight back. You lay him down with careful hands, being sure not to let anything make noise as you do. You finish him with a shot of tranq.

“Nice work.”

Your eyes fly to the Cowboy and he’s giving you an approving smile. A quick check shows that the other two are still sleeping and you stand with your bag, debating what you might want to take.

“Take the kid’s gun,” he says quietly, “you’ll need it.”

Dammit he’s right.

You take the rifle and what ammunition you can find and turn to go before you hesitate. You glance back at the Cowboy and he quickly shakes his head.

“Don’t waste time on me, darlin’. Get yourself out of Dodge.”

With a nod you leave Cooper there, setting off into the darkness. You hadn’t killed the kid, although you probably should have, and the tranq was barely a few drops. Just what was left after Cooper had tranqed you. But it should buy you a half hour, maybe more.

It buys you a mile, give or take.

Sounds carries in the desert so when the men start shouting you can hear it echoing. A glance back at the fire shows shadows occasionally blocking it and you quicken your pace. As long as Cooper doesn’t give up your direction you should be fine til morning.

Were you terrible for leaving him behind?

You pause, staring off at the dark shape of the mountains. You didn’t owe him a damn thing, absolutely not. But also… you weren’t the kind of person to just leave people like that either.

Aren’t you? a tiny voice in your head mocks.

Visions of faces just like yours, racks of people waiting to be sold to the highest bidder. They were still there, at the facility. If you made it away Galen would just sell the next girl on the list. And the next. You were pretty sure he’d been alive since the bombs fell - who knew how long he could keep this all going.

Did you owe it to the women just like you to stop it?

Could you live with yourself if you didn’t?

With a heavy sigh you find a nearby rock and pull your feet up, waiting for the search party. It takes them a while, probably another two hours while you grow even firmer in your resolve. It’s Javier who eventually ‘sneaks’ up on you. Whacking you across the back of your head so hard you slam face first into the rock below.

Twice in two days, probably not good for you.

You come up with a curse, spitting out blood and tonguing at a tooth that feels loose. Hands immediately pull you to your feet, tying your wrists together behind your back and shoving you back towards the fire.

“Bitch,” he grunts and you try to get your wits back around you. What would you do if you were still running? How would you act?

“Please let me go,” you plead softly. “I’ll do anything.”

You stumble next to Javier as he drags you back towards the fire, hitting the dirt more than once with nothing to break your fall. He jerks you to your feet each time, muttering things to himself until you’re moving again.

“You telling me you didn’t see a damn thing?”

“I was sleeping, same as you,” Cooper’s voice drawls as you re-enter the firelight. He glances up at you and his jaw hardens. You know you must look a mess, you can taste blood and you’ve fallen face first to the ground more than once.

“There you are,” Bossman grunts, coming to stand in front of you. “Bet you thought you had us.”

Travis is nursing a black eye which you feel a little bad about. But you don’t say anything as they untie Cooper - who rubs at his wrists and gives them an assessing look - and then use those same ropes to truss you up. As they move away he takes a step closer, barely speaking above a whisper.

“How far d’you get?”

“Too far… not far enough.”

He grunts. “Lost the element of surprise now.”

“It’s fine,” you sigh, “I don’t need it.”

He turns to you with a fully quizzical look before someone’s voice calls out and he goes to sit nearer to the fire. But he watches you the rest of the night, eyes burning with unasked questions.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[foodandfolklore]

Using Sigils in your Kitchen

If you are not familiar with sigils, in a nutshell they are created by people using words, imagery, and symbolism to communicate intention through a magic symbol. These can be personal and super specific or just really general and shared by many. They're highly recommended to try since it works well for witches still in the broom closet and witches on a budget.

So what are some ways we can use Sigils in kitchen magic? A lot, actually! I touched on this briefly on my easy ways to kitchen witch, but I thought I'd go over them again, as well as offer more ideas.

Cook your food in your sigil Adding heat is one of the most common ways to activate sigil powers. So, if you got a hot pan and are about to pour some oil, why not draw a sigil? A sigil of energy to help give you a boost in the morning. A sigil of co-operation for those tense family dinners. Or maybe a symbol of beauty cause you're just so fabulous.

Eat Your Sigils So once you're done cooking, maybe at the end you want to add some sauce. Draw a sigil on your food with your sauce. Different sauce types may also help enhance your sigil. A sweet tomato based sauce like ketchup could enhance self love sigils, for example. But don't think too hard on it. Focus more on the sigil rather than what you're making it with.

Stir your Sigils I've mentioned before that I prefer to mindfully stir towards me and away from me; instead of the traditional clockwise and counter clockwise. However, if both of those methods don't work, try stirring your intentions in by recreating the sigil. Stir as though you were trying to create the sigil one stroke at a time.

Add Sigils to your Appliances I don't see this talked about nearly enough, but you can add sigils to your appliances. Maybe add one to your coffee maker or toaster to help infuse your food and drink with specific energy. I have one for my fridge to help food last as long as it can. But take a look at your appliances. Is there anything you want to work better? Anything you want to last longer? Maybe consider creating a sigil for it.

Sigils on your Work Space There are a lot of other places you can put sigils as a kitchen witch. Your spoons, your cutting board, measuring cups; add one to your cupboard to protect from broken dishes or just charge whatever dishes are in there. You can add a sigil to the bottom of your table where you eat to encourage communication and keep away negativity. If you got windows in your kitchen, maybe use a window writer to make a sigil for motivation. Do not feel like kitchen witchcraft is limited to food!

Charge Your Spices I feel like most people, when they get dried spices, will transfer them into a jar. This is for easy access and also helps preserve the spice as it's protected better from the air. So if your spices are in glass containers, why not add a sigil to charge your spices? I mean, if they're just sitting around while you do stuff like sleep and work, they may as well be doing something. I feel like general sigils will work better in this case like "Prosperity" or "Calm" sigil.

[ravinewreyn]

"The son of snow queen"

I just love Wilhelm, can you please write a short story keeping him in focus?

I actually had to rewrite this a lot because I can't seem to find the perfect short story. So thank you, Helsa Discord, for helping me with this.

And also thank you for loving Wilhelm, anon! I'm so glad so many people love him so dearly.

Rating: T Pairing(s): Hans/Elsa

He was a sweet tooth, just like his aunt.

Hans had pointed out that she was also a sweet tooth and their son had inherited it from her, but the Queen was quite certain this particular trait came from her younger sister. Because as much as she did enjoy chocolate, she preferred the dark ones—ones with the hint of bitterness.

Wilhelm did not enjoy dark chocolates.

He had tried it once, practically stealing it from his mother’s dessert plate that she had brought up to her office for something she could snack on while working, not quite familiar with the differences just yet, and had scrunched his nose and spit the piece back out the moment bitterness was what he had tasted instead of the sweetness he had expected, whining at his mother who desperately tried to hold back her laughter.

After that, each time Elsa had brought a plate of chocolates with her, the toddler had glared at it—eyes full of resentment—until she had offered one he liked, and even then he still narrowed his eyes suspiciously before eating.

But even after that dark chocolate incident, Wilhelm did not resent sweets completely.

No, he was still pretty much obsessed with it just like any other child would, eyes bright and growing wide just as Anna brought in a whole cake to the Recreational room while the platinum blonde haired Queen stared in disbelief.

“Dessert!” the younger sister had simply declared when asked about it, grinning. “Come on, Wilhelm, I don’t think I can finish it all by myself.”

She could. She definitely could. Elsa would not even doubt it.

The two years old boy had excitedly run up to his aunt as she lowered herself to sit on the carpeted floor. He didn’t even wait for his aunt to spoon-feed him his first bite of cake, diving right in with his bare hand as he grasped the cake—frosting and all—and shoving it right into his mouth.

“Or we can do that, sure!” Anna laughed, but had the decency to stick to her spoon after her older sister had thrown her a warning glare from where she was sitting while she read a report in her hand. “Well, how is it? Do you like it?”

Wilhelm, behind all those frosting and cake on his hand and mouth, and giggled and nodded enthusiastically. “Cake!”

“Cake!” the princess agreed, nodding as she ate another spoonful herself. “Cake’s the best thing ever, right Wilhelm? Well, right after chocolates.”

Clawing for another handful of cake, Wilhelm had skillfully pushed himself up even with one of his hands occupied, turning and coming toward his mother. Elsa had also sat on the carpeted floor, as she had used the surface of the lounge to spread the paperwork she was working on while watching over her son. “Mama, cake!”

That was the only warning she received before said cake was shoved right up against her face. Most had reached the intended direction that was her mouth, but the force as well as Wilhelm’s own fingers had also made sure that frosting were to smear all over her chin and even the tip of her nose.

Anna’s laughter boomed then, loud and clear across the room, as she even almost tumbled back if she had not been holding onto the other lounge by her side for support. “Elsa, your face!” oh she so wanted to throw a cushion at her sister.

But it was Wilhelm’s own giggles and the look on his face that had stopped Elsa from actually throwing anything. He had looked so pleased, so proud, that he had shared his share of cake to his Mama. Beneath those frosting on his little face, he was grinning so widely that Elsa’s heart was suddenly feel so full and warm.

“We’re matching now, aren’t we, my love?” she chuckled, pulling her son into her arms as she kissed him on the cheek, smearing another layer of frosting between the two of them.

Because even when Wilhelm had shared Anna’s love of sweets, he had always been her son.

[feastonkings]

michael cimino / he/him ——— no way is that SEBASTIAN ‘BASH’ PRESCOTT .. they’re a 24-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being IRRESPONSIBLE & ENTITLED but there are some people who have seen them being EXTROVERTED & AMUSING. if you ask me, they remind me a lot of setting five+ alarms and ignoring them all, crude words falling from privileged lips, spontaneous yacht trips, fake ids, waking up not remembering the night before, but that could just be because they’re considered the SILVER SPOON TROUBLEMAKER around town. just keep an eye on them & see if their true colors shine through..

GENERAL.

full name: sebastian francisco prescott nicknames: bash, zebby, baz classification: human gender / pronouns: cis man, he/him age / birthday: 24, august 18th orientations: homosexual, homoromantic occupation: trust fund baby, unemployed status: single family: mark prescott (father), miranda prescott (mother), ethan green (step-father) strengths: extroverted, amusing, charming, rich, flirtatious weaknesses: irresponsible, entitled, reckless, indulgent, lazy character inspo: alexis rose (schitt's creek), logan huntzberger (gilmore girls), tom haverford (parks and recreation), barney stinson (how i met your mother), sean parker (social network), vincent chase (entourage), ferris bueller (ferris bueller's day off), jamie tartt (ted lasso), mercutio (romeo and juliet), roman roy (succession), jesper fahey (shadow and bone)

BIOGRAPHY.

tw: fire

bash doesn't know if mark or ethan is his real father because all three of his parents have been together since before he was born. it's perhaps what made him constantly want attention because he got so much from them

however, being a child associated with the big three, there were plenty of times he didn't see his parents and spent more time with nannies, the cleaners, or the cook. he was more than happy to soak up the attention from anywhere

in fact when his parents considered bringing in another child to keep him company or at the very least, wear out some of his constant energy; bash threw a tantrum for the record books. it lasted long enough that his parents chose to revisit the idea later and then scrapped it altogether later.

in school, despite being a nuisance and general disturbance, bash was popular and made a name for himself for the parties he threw, the elaborate pranks he’d pull, and famously getting away with almost everything. the only time he got in any serious trouble was in middle school when what was supposed to be a small prank and a little vandalism ended up starting a fire and taking out two classrooms. he ended up having to spend the rest of the eight grade in boarding school but was able to come back for his freshman year of high school.

much to the surprise of everyone, bash graduated high school and as a reward his parents got him a penthouse apartment on the upper side of the city. even though they would’ve liked him to go to college, it wasn’t expected and bash had no intention of attending more school. he didn’t plan on working either unless he had to, which each of his parents take turns having him shadow them on occasion but it’s not necessary for him to jump the gun into a career when he’s essentially set for life. along with eventually inheriting a board member seat in the distant future and that would be future bash’s problem

these days bash spends most of his time partying, being promiscuous, and generally being a menace to upper class society. in every sense of the word, he’s a spoiled and entitled rich kid and there’s no saying if or when he’ll ever grow up. eventually it was all bound to catch up to him or his parents could cut him off, but for now that’s not his concern.

HEADCANONS.

bash often throws parties in different places, including his parents mansion and his own penthouse

he doesn’t like to sleep alone, so if he’s not bringing someone to bed (or joining someone else) with him he will often stay with friends, to be in the house with someone else at the very least, if not cuddling up with a homie for a solid platonic cuddle session

though he doesn’t show it, he’s insecure about a lot of things, including his future.

more to come

[writebackatya]

The FNAF movie was like a half baked cake with a TON of frosting; yes the animatronics are incredible, the set designs look like the games, and the actors they hired did their job well, but as a movie? Not good; at least for someone who isn’t a FNAF fan and wanted to give this movie a fair chance as a horror movie not really thinking about how faithful it was to the games

Now before I began this movie in the comfort of my own home (I’ve heard horror stories about some people’s experience watching this in a crowded theater and I think I’ll pass) but I should just forget everything I knew about FNAF (which wasn’t hard) and enjoy the movie on its own merit as a horror film. And I think this movie fails at that the most

Now if I were to compare the scary-ness levels to the spiciness of a salsa, Five Nights at Freddy’s would be smooth marinara. To give the movie credit, it did not rely on jumpscares. But in terms of suspense and horror, I got nothing really engaging for me other than the decent intro. The tone of the movie is all over the place and the pacing just didn’t do it for me

I said it in a previous post that this movie felt like one of those family movies I’d watch growing up and never really go back to dressed up like a horror movie. The whole storyline that’s out of Freddy’s felt like it was stitched from tropes you’d see from a live-action family movie made in the 90’s-00’s what with the evil aunt trying to get guardianship of the sweet innocent child the main character is watching and having henchmen sabotage his job

Also I’m not knocking a horror movie for having comedy or being something made for the family. I love horror films that can do either or both of those things

Horror-comedy is one of my favorite sub-genres of horrors that have some of my favorite horror movies that have great timing for these two seemingly counterintuitive genres but work well because it plays both those genres well without forgetting the other

And there have been plenty of horror films made for a family audience that still hold up today and can be enjoyed by a horror fan of any age. Heck those tend to be comedic at times and those movies do that well too. Not to mention those tend to treat its younger viewers with maturity being subtle or even just simply having frightful moments with consequences

But the FNAF movie just doesn’t do any of that right for me. As a family movie, it’s weak. I’m sorry, I do like the idea of Mike being an older brother taking care of his younger sister (who is very much implied to be neurodivergent) but that aspect of the movie very much feels “been there, done that”

And I just wanna add that movie itself feels like it’s talking down to its audience for it feels the need to tell it’s story just out loud in case we don’t know what’s going on. Even if the movie was being cheeky when Matthew Lillard’s character refers to information as “backstory” it still feels like I’m being spoon-fed information

And there’s just too much in here! Every storyline that happens in this movie feels like it amounted to nothing or just felt like it was filling time for the story

Fans of the series have already decided that they loved this movie. That’s fine. They’re allowed to have their own opinions, but when you’re out there making excuses for why someone else didn’t like it because they “don’t get it” or “just aren’t a fan” then you lost me. This isn’t that hard to get, it’s a bad movie for anyone who isn’t a fan. So don’t expect people who aren’t fans of the series to give your movie praise because they recreated a thing that happens in a game

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

"I'm sure you'll handle those... troubles... the way you usually do. Won't require more of my help. Got troubles of my own to deal with, of late. Witcher business. A lot happened since you were gone. Long story short, I'm the only Witcher left of the Wolf School still on the Path. Grandmaster and inheritor of Kaer Morhen Valley... of empty ruins. It's all fallen into my hands, of all the Wolf Witchers there have been. Like I said, destiny likes its little jokes at my expense. Up to me to repair and reestablish the school, before the Second Conjunction of the Spheres rolls around. No pressure, huh?"

The Witcher's low, languid voice gradually returned to Sabrina with a grim chuckle under his breath. After Vesemir's death, between Geralt settling down in Toussaint and Lambert following Keira Metz around acting as her errand boy... it was all up to him alone, now. Vesemir had left the keep and lands to him. Slow as the school's repairs would be, they were assured, and he had the skill and knowledge to pull it off, if not yet the coin for materials. That could be remedied, on the Path, especially working at Kovir and Poviss or Queen Saskia's Upper Aedirn, where his services were needed most. His greater challenge would be recreating the Trials, making new Witchers, when the time came. A challenge in more ways than one... though the most pressing one was rediscovering the knowledge of the Trials. Tracking down Idarran of Ulivo, the only possible surviving sorcerer who had created the Witchers in the first place. He was likely out there somewhere, given how many of his monsters Eskel and other Witchers continued to cross paths with and had to slay. In some mysterious lab, no doubt, ever working on horrors and unleashing them on the world, like his mentor taught him. Eskel wasn't sure which he would prefer, asking the mad scientist about his life's work, about Alzur and the past of the Witchers, the Order of Witchers... or slaying him where he stood for all the trouble he had put Eskel and the others through. Assuming his creations and summoned monsters hadn't already done so, like the Viy of Maribor had to his master Alzur centuries past.

Shaking his head, he focused on the present for the moment, one not much less daunting, being back together with her again. Feeling like he was merely laying in the middle of the calm before the storm. Still, he supposed there was no sense in not making the most of that calm. Watching as her magic conjured them up a great, welcome assortment of breakfast foods, a veritable feast, the aromas of cooking eggs and meat filling his senses and the interior of the tent, his medallion buzzing from the usage of her magic in the vicinity. Drinks pouring themselves as well, everything being gradually settled atop the table in the corner of the tent. That such power should more often than not fall into the hands of the worst people in the world, or it turned them that way, was another joke of destiny. Still, it was more than adequate for the moment, at least... soon to be satisfying one of his appetites, anyways. He listened relaxedly as she spoke, hardly surprised by her actions and thoughts. Even so, with a smirk he rubbed her pale behind appreciatively some more, teasing her, before turning her over and spooning up with her closely, broad arms enveloping her as they relaxed on the bed, pressing a kiss to her crimson head. Breathing her in. Deep, amused voice speaking again slowly and teasingly, looking between her and the magically assembling breakfast, his medallion humming away against her flesh as he held her.

"You'd be surprised how much it takes to reach my 'fill'. Or maybe not. Fair enough, red. You witches have limited stamina anyways, require your beauty sleep. Rather not wear that body out... after all the work I put into bringing it back. Might need to take to conjuring some illusions with that magic, to join us. As I recall you even used to keep an illusory young man around your royal tent. Got some monster contracts to tend to later this evening anyways. No sense in not making the most of relaxing in this bed, until then. Or in letting a breakfast like this go to waste. Never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth."

@fallesto

“Yes well, I am thankful for your aid and courage to see that done, being executed once, was more than enough for me, not in a hurry to do it again, had a taste of it, the taste of cinder and ash in my mouth does not agree with me at all, keeping a very low profile as it is anyway, trying to ensure no one knows that I am here or what I am doing, better that way. Out of sight and out of mind, a simple thing truly to limit my enemy numbers, for there is still a great deal of them out there funny enough.”

He wished for the truth, she had given it to him, no games, no tricks, no lies with a dash of truth there, to try and lure him into a contract with her, to bait him with fame and fortune again and have him serving her once more like old times, instead she was rather in a good form this morning, strange. Her entire mood had changed, she was not stressed, she was not annoyed, she was not angry at everything and everyone. Instead, she was more relaxed, content, and humming softly, as she lay against him still, despite her hazel eyes opening and her lips parting to allow a yawn to escape her, she made some effort, to move her hand, pointing her finger in the corner and twirling it around, as plates, dishes, the bread and egg basket, would move on there own with her magic, as she would make him breakfast from the bed then as she spins her finger around for the bread to be cut, the eggs to be cracked opened onto a pan, for a flame to flicker on and for breakfast to more than take care of itself, as if it had a mind of its own to do such a thing, speaking of which, his hands seemed to have a mind of there own as well, traveling further, for one to stop and then the other to continue to even further and give her a little pinch, cusp and old. As she smiled once more and felt him stirring all over again as she tapped him on the bare chest with the palm of her hand for the moment, all good things come to those who wait, and he was as greedy as she was now.

“You had your fill only hours ago, your determination is soothing, but there will be more than enough time for more of this, after I give you something to eat, and drink and thank you, for not fighting with me for once and merely enjoying company with one another, it has been, a weird experience for me, but good all the same.”

[ophelia-jones]

Thorns part 8

Lacey was back in the room she had once been so grateful for. She had earned her place in the saviors. Negan had put her through so much shit trying to break her, but he didn't know she had been forged in fire years before the dead began to walk.  Her old man had been on disability for a bad back - but his back wasn't his real problem; his real problem came in a bottle. A liquor bottle, a pill bottle - he was a real multi-tasker.

Her mom had gotten sick when Lacey was just a baby, and her older brothers had more or less raised her. They were only boys - 6 and 8 when she was born. They did the best they could. Most of the things they had came from the dumpster outside of the local thrift shop. Things that weren't good enough for goodwill, but they were better than nothing at all which is what they had. 

The other kids at school called them white trash or avoided them altogether. The few of them that did give them the time of day were ordered not to by their parents usually. It was a lonely existence, but at least they had each other.

When their dad got it together long enough, he would take them hunting and fishing. Once or twice they had gone camping - but it wasn't far off from the way they lived every day, and at the campground there were too many eyes on them for comfort. One time some things came up missing and Jamie and Brandon were accused of being the ones who took them. Dad had packed them up and taken them home after that, giving them a whipping with a green switch he cut off a tree.  He disappeared into his room with a six pack and watched tv for the rest of the weekend. 

Lacey hadn't realized other parents didn't lock themselves in their rooms for long stretches, forgetting to feed their children. 

Brand got a job when he was sixteen, flipping burgers at the local dairy queen rip-off restaurant that was only open for a few summer months. There was one in just about every little northern Michigan town, specializing in fried food and soft serve.

Things got better for a little while, but when school started again their family felt the pinch that his lack of income brought. It wasn't long before he took up with the local pot dealer, making better money for less work. Jamie, too, decided to take up this venture. Within a couple of years Lacey was helping them with a sizable grow in the run down barn on a neighbors property. She was homebound and wasn't using it anyway, they reasoned. 

It was when she was 16 that she discovered she had a better resource - men would pay good money to look at her. She was dancing at the topless club in the next town before her seventeenth birthday and by the time she was 21 she had built up enough savings to get a place of her own. Before she was 30 she owned the bar. She took better care of her girls, too. Her brothers worked as bouncers, they were brutes and most people were scared at the very sight of them.  They also provided the sort of recreational herbs and pharmaceuticals she couldn't legally sell at the bar.   She lived in a complex and perpetual state of pride and shame. She had made it out of the poverty she had been born into, but in ways that polite society rejected. She had money but she was still white trash.

She was lost in memories of the life before, the things she had thought were important and struggles she thought were brutal back then. She couldn't be bitter about it though, because it had prepared her better than most for this new world. 

She had seen death and violence and cruelty back when the rest of the world was able to look away and pretend it wasn't there. 

She was drawn out of her thoughts by a knock on the door. Before she had a chance to ask who was there, the door swung open and Negan appeared with a tray.

"You skipped dinner." He said, sitting the food down on the bed beside her.

"I'm not hungry." She told him.

"C'mon," Negan said playfully, spooning up some mashed potatoes and bringing it to her lips. "Here comes the airplane, open up the hanger." She blinked at him but refused to play his game.

"Don't make me do the airplane noises." He teased with a crooked grin. She bit her cheek, irritated that she could be amused by the man she had witnessed commit murder just hours ago. The man who was effectively holding her prisoner. 

"Oh, I saw that! You know you want to smile. You can't help it, I'm adorable." He joked and Lacey couldn't hold it back any longer. She covered her eyes with one hand and laughed despite herself. 

"You're a fucking lunatic." She told him.

"You love it." He grinned, putting the spoon down on the plate. "I've missed you. You are the only person who gets away with talking to me like that." He reached out and ran a strand of her hair between two of his fingers.

"I'm not going to sleep with you, Negan." She told him plainly. She wasn't arguing with him or being rude, simply stating a fact. He chuckled softly. 

"You're the one who can't stop thinking about it. I never said a word." He grinned, nudging the tray toward her.

"Why do you let me talk to you the way no one else can?" She asked, picking the spoon up and taking small tastes of the mashed potatoes and gravy. There were chunks of meat in it she couldn't quite identify. Beef from a can or jar, maybe. Negan's eyes grew distant and he looked down at the bedspread beneath his hand.

"You remind me of someone. Someone special." He told her in a moment of sincerity which surprised even himself, she suspected. She didn't know what to say, so for a long time she didn't say anything. She managed to eat more than half of the meal he'd brought before he found his voice again. 

"Were you so convinced I would kill you? Is that really why you didn't come back?" He cocked his head to one side and studied her closely.

"I knew I couldn't rule it out." She replied with a slight nod, but she couldn't meet his eyes.

"Yes, you could've. I'm telling you, right now, you could have known I wouldn't hurt you." He told her, his voice not much more than a low grumble. 

"I've seen your rage, Negan. And I know that you believe any sign of weakness will bring about suffering for the people you have promised to look after. If everyone here believed I ran off to join the only group that has been able to put a dent in your shining armor, how could you not kill me?" She sighed.

"Because they will believe what I tell them. My word is law." He stared down at Lacey. "You should have had more faith. After all, you're the one always telling me 'you're better than this'. Was that just smoke you were blowing up my ass?" 

"No." She admitted. 

"Then what was it? Why didn't you find a way back, to tell me what had happened? Don't tell me its those idealists you took up with. You don't buy into all of that 'peaceful rebuilding' communist bullshit. I know you better than that."

"I don't know. I mean, maybe there is something to it. Rick says there has to be something more, something to move toward instead of all the last man standing bullshit humanity has always done. I used to think the survival of the fittest stuff was how we built everything we had achieved but maybe it was what led to our downfall. Maybe …" she sighed and lay back against her pillows, her wavy brown hair pillowing behind her head and shoulders. "Maybe it's just the pregnancy hormones changing my brain." 

Negan smiled at that and reached out and rested a hand on her subtle baby bump.

"Is he moving yet?" He asked, and the way he looked at her nearly tore Lacey's heart out. If she were young and naive she would have mistaken that look for love. 

"No. I get my appetite once in awhile again though. Thats a good sign. She isn't making me throw up all the time anymore." She rested her own hand beside his. "Their doctor said everything is normal enough." She assured him.

"Well, I'll still send our guy up to check you out tomorrow. Just to be safe." He told her as he rose and stretched his long, lean form. She nodded in agreement. 

"Negan?" She spoke as he stepped out the door. He turned and raised his eyebrows at her questioningly.  "Thank you."

"For what?" He arched a jet black eyebrow at her. 

"Believing me, I guess. For … protecting me. I know you are always saying you want to, but until real recently no one has ever followed through on that." She told him before rolling over onto her left side and tucking a pillow  between her legs.  She was suddenly exhausted. Negan smiled to himself slightly as he closed her door behind himself

[portcadorpg]

WELCOME BACK, Poppy!! We are delighted to welcome Theodore Alistair to Port Cado. Please complete our after acceptance checklist. We are looking forward to seeing you develop him. 

Out of Character

Alias: Poppy Preferred 

Pronouns: she/her 

Age: Poppy > Earth itself. Just shy of ancient. 

Timezone: EST 

Anything Else: I have a vacation to California scheduled in mid February. Just for 2 weeks. Should still be able to do some replies while down there.

Character

Name: Theodore "Teddy" Alistair

Birthdate: October 10thAge: 34

Preferred Pronouns: he/him

Faceclaim: Daniel Sharman

Profession: Librarian

Loyalty: Government

Designation: Dominant

Claim: No claim

Children: None.

Neighbourhood: Midtown Harbour (because he walks to work)

Sexuality: Pansexual

Kinks: Service Play, Discipline Play, Light bondage, Light pain play, Body Worship (giving and receiving), Oral sex, mild Exhibitionism (he's not looking to go to jail), Reading to his lover (only with very special people)Anti-Kinks: Humiliation, Extreme anything, Degradation, Watersports, Scat, Vore, Gore, ABDL, Age Play

Biography:

Teddy was born with a very shiny, very large silver spoon in his mouth. He was spoiled by parents who liked him way more than they should have to be honest. He was a pretentious, thoughtless jerk. At a certain point in a trust fund baby's life there is a moment or a series of such moments where they could go one way or the other - where they could turn it around and actually be a person worth knowing and not just some useless, pretentious prat.

Teddy missed every road flare along the way. His parents continued to bail him out over and over again when he and his pitiful cadre of likeminded fools got in over their heads. For idiots they weren't too far down the dusty lanes. They were rude, self-absorbed, dismissive of anyone who grew up without all the privileges they were so thoughtlessly burning through day after day, year after year.

However, in his first year of university, shortly after his 19th birthday, Teddy had his wake-up call. He and his friends were partying and bought some recreational drugs from one of the OS dealers that always seemed to frequent the edges of their parties - overcharging rich idiots for a little fun. Except this dealer was stretching his profit by mixing his drugs with a little something extra. Teddy woke up three days after the party, hospitalized, in agony, and engulfed in grief - for himself and for his friends. He still has nightmares, almost twenty years later about the events of that night.

It was a wakeup call to say the least. It was two years before they found the right cocktail of medications to allow him to go a day without a seizure. He still isn't allowed to drive but other elements of his life have significantly improved. It was another decade before he finished university - first his undergrad and then getting his Masters in Library Science. With his degree and a new job at the City Library, Teddy was ready to begin his life anew. He is no longer the useless person he once was, taking pride in the literacy programs he works with and the people who gave him a second chance at life after he almost threw it all away. Some of his friends were not so fortunate. He is determined to make his second chance mean something.

[flanklurker]

Hello !! I ADORE your work, and I was wondering if I could request a Yoru x F!Healer!Reader with some Hurt/Comfort ?? I have this idea where : Yoru and Reader have a similar relationship as him and Phoenix (very competitive) but maybe they get into a petty argument and Yoru ofc is really cold and mean and says something totally out of line a few days before a mission (maybe Abt how she's no one's first pick when getting healed) ?? The rest of the protocol can feel the tension but don't say anything when they get to the mission location ; Eventually our team wins but as Reader does one last sweep of the area alone she finds Mirror!Yoru in bad condition, and they sort of come to an agreement that Reader will heal him (bc she can't stand to see him hurt even though she's upset w him) and then they will never speak of this again ?? Maybe some small talk and Mirror!Yoru is being surprisingly nice and gives her advice on how to approach Yoru... Once they part ways and Reader gets back to base, it slips out what happened as she's talking with Mirror!Yoru and instead of being really angry, Yoru is confused and is like "Why would you heal him / me, after all that mean shit I said to you ? Wouldn't I be the last person you look for? " and they eventually make up- bc I JUST KNOW Yoru has a hard time coming to terms with the fact people genuinely care Abt him. IM SO SORRY IF THIS IS A LOT / NOT ANYTHING YOUD WANT TO WRITE !! THANK YOU EITHER WAY <3

This prompt brought me so much joy, I’m an absolute slut for hurt/comfort pump that shit straight into my veins. Hope you like~

Yoru x Fem!Healer!Reader: Kiss and make up

Yoru wasn’t usually this pissy. Like,, you get it. He has a reputation to uphold as a hypercompetitive, cool bastard. Sure.

But making such a big deal out of not being selected for the mission to Portugal in Omega? It was clearly hitting him hard.

“Awww Yoru, don’t be such a buzzkill,” Phoenix calls over the milk jug. “Like, you know we have multiple teams right? Like, they need you for icebox. No one else can fuck around with the enemy’s intel on the ground like you can my guy.”

Yoru’s eyebrow twitches and his hands fiddle idly with the spoon in his hand. “What’s it to you, fire boy? You can barely last ten seconds when you get going, I’m surprised they’d take you anywhere.”

Phoenix lets out a low whistle. “Someone’s got his cranky pants on this morning hey.” He turns to you with a pointed look. “Good luck with that one.”

You clap Phoenix on the shoulder as he heads out from the table, and settle down next to Yoru, who maintains a stony silence.

“Yoooooru,” you call gently. He shifts with irritation, jabbing his spoon back into the cereal with a wet thunk. “Hey there, how ya doing hotshot?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather girl.”

Ah, it was gonna be like that, huh.

You take a mouthful, and nonchalantly ask: “hey, you looking forward to icebox? I hear they have some pretty good recreation activities for team bonding~”

His grip tightens further. Yep, definitely pissy about it.

You continue, innocently enough: “I for one am looking forward to checking out the geodome on Omega and testing out these sweet kicks Neon got me. Thoughts?”

You gently nudge his foot under the table. A vein pops in his forehead.

“At least I’m not a pity pick, you shady bitch.”

“Hoooo~? What’s that supposed to mean, Mr Sunshine?”

“I mean I just think it’s interesting that you’re supposed to be a healer but they also had to send Sage along.” He toes the ground and prods at his food without taking any.

“Uhhh, congrats Yoru, she’s the one person here that can bring people back from the dead.”

“Yeah, she’s actually helpful when she heals. Plus she doesn’t nag.”

Okay, you were starting to get a little irritated now.

“Dude, if you stopped getting yourself into stupid situations maybe I wouldn’t have to literally tell you what to do as much. I don’t think this is a me thing.”

“Keep telling yourself that Miss Nurse. But at the end of the day if I was stuck on a mission with someone annoying, I’d want them to at least be able to bring me back to life.”

Dude, fuck this guy.

“Welp, I’ll let Sage know then,” you say, rising abruptly from your seat. “On the mission, today. That Brim didn’t put you on.”

“See you later then, Miss MVP,” he sings back at you. You ignore the bait and stalk out.

Yoru maintains a cold smile as you leave, but it’s pushed out through gritted teeth and feigned apathy.

---

As much as this mission should have you on edge, you can’t quite process the gravity of the task for all the ruminating you’ve been doing. Why did it get under your skin so much when Yoru got like this?

It wasn’t like the other agents ever through shade on your abilities—quite the opposite. Very quickly after joining, you were put on a lot of the most demanding missions alongside all the high flyers. They’ve only ever had words of praise and gratitude, and objectively you’ve guided them through many many close calls.

So why did you feel so useless about it?

You try your best to shake yourself out of it as Brim gives the lowdown. Sova, Sage and Phoenix all stand, varying degrees of agitated as you went over the plan for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

You of course have familiarised yourself with the brief well in advance, but it looks like this time even Phoenix is giving his undivided attention to Brim.

The task is simple. Split your forces and push through B-site. Destroy enemy utility as you find it, wait for smokes and neutralise anything and anyone in your path.

As you start prepping your guns, Phoenix drifts over to fix up his frenzy next to you. Preoccupied in your own thoughts, you don’t notice till he gently shoulder chucks you.

You turn around with a ‘hmm?’ and for a moment it looks like he wants to say something. But then Brim starts issuing start-up commands and the moment passes. He heads back to join Sage at the entrance to mid.

You grit your teeth, and ready your rifle. No do-overs. Just guns up and go.

---

The attack goes… better than expected. Between you and Sage, you manage to keep any injuries on the crew to a minimum. Sova’s recon is on point, Phoenix creates space and Brim makes the right calls to keep you on track.

Eventually you stand, bloodied, sweating and alive in the middle of site. Sage tends to a couple of bullet holes in Brim’s shoulder, Phoenix is brushing the soot off his shoulder.

You clock Sova limping over to Brim, looking fairly haggard and favouring his left ankle. You get the sense this was a big fight for him even after a sleepless night. You can see him gesturing out to the entrances to site, and Brim pursing his lips in thought, clearly weighing something over. God. The man doesn’t rest.

You weigh up your options and sigh, eventually going over to put a gentle hand on Sova’s back, careful to avoid the deep gash in his right shoulder.

“C’mon owl boy, I’ve still got some recon stuff up my sleeve. Let me handle this one yeah?”

Sova’s noises of protest are quickly cut off as Brim chimes in: “That’d be great actually, kid. Just a regular sweep, and Kay/0’s on radar in case anything big comes up.” He shoots you a grateful look.

You can see Sova mulling things over, before eventually he accedes to Brim’s command. “Stay safe, dove.”

“You know me,” you call back over your shoulder, reloading your ammo and adjusting your straps. “If trouble finds me, she runs.”

You set to work, clearing area by area. You marvel at the architecture, embedded with radianite that now lays dormant in the walls and balustrades. Most of the technology resembles yours, but occasionally you come across wirings and contraptions that you haven’t seen back on your home world, even in Killjoy’s lab.

May as well snap a few pictures then. You’re sure she and Cypher would appreciate a couple of schematics.

Poised with your phone in hand, a very subtle shift from the corner of the room sets your hairs on end. Shit. You were pretty sure the team had cleared everything, but what if…?

Better safe than sorry. Taking a deep breath in, you send a warm pulse of energy out into the aether, seeing what pings.

One life form. Faint.

You swear under your breath and creep forward. You’re generally pretty quiet but you weren’t exactly operating on the basis that someone would be around to hear you when you started live-blogging your whereabouts. As you round the corner, you find a bloodied form, eyes very much open and staring at you.

Ugh. Of course it had to be him.

The mirror Yoru looks under you and mutters something you can just make out to be… ‘Fuck me. Really? Her?’

“Hey there pretty boy,” you murmur. He smiles wryly at the nickname, but can’t quite bite back a bloodied cough that wracks his body for a good ten seconds.

“Woah woah woah,” you say, instinct taking over as you crouch beside him and brace his back. He flinches a little at the touch before you snap back and realise that this isn’t your Yoru, this is the enemy. Fuck.

“What, you gonna play around before you kill me,” Yoru grimaces. You draw back, uncertain, and he taps the centre of his forehead. “The you I know would make it quick.”

Oof. Hearing him say that out loud was pretty jarring. You were supposed to kill him. He expected you to.

You swear again, and bend down once more to draw level with him, doing a quick pass over on his injuries. Left to his own devices, he won’t last long. There were enough bullets perforating his chest from his sternum to his kidney that he’d bleed out in minutes. What a way to go.

A thought occurs to you. You haven’t managed to neutralise his Sage. She’s still probably at base—you know your Brim only brings her out when she’s essential on the field, too important to lose to a regular field mission. So no matter what, the man in front of you ends up back at his base eventually.

That settles it.

“Hold still hotshot.”

Not in a position to protest, Yoru can’t do much but sit and try to steady his breathing as you start to pull back his jacket, wincing a little at the extent of the damage. Taking a swab of antiseptic from your pouch, you mutter a quick ‘deep breath, this is gonna hurt like a motherfucker’ before setting to work cleaning the wounds.

Apart from sharp hisses when you remove the little pieces of lead embedded in his tissue, Yoru stays silent through the process, looking away.

Eventually, the wound is tidy enough that you’re able to start the real healing process. Stretching out your fingers, you press the palm of your hand to his side. While he jerks back at the initial contact, the warm waves of energy start to work their magic, reverberating through muscle and tissue and starting to net it back together.

Yoru finally lets out a sigh as in spite of himself, he relaxes into your work. “Ugh, that’s the stuff,” he says, almost to himself. Eventually he ventures: “why are you doing this, mirror girl?”

“Your Sage would bring you back anyway. We might be on opposite teams, but I’m not an asshole. I’d hope my other half would do the same for my colleagues.”

“Hm,” he whistles through his teeth.

“Didn’t expect you to be a fan of my healing though,” you muse.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s stupid. I’m actually a little pissed at your double right now, he was being a real dick talking shit about wanting Sage to heal him instead.” You notice his amused expression. “Sorry.”

To your surprise, he actually laughs at this. “Yeah of course he’d say that. If he’s anything like me he’s a stubborn bastard more keen to score points than to actually tell the truth. Fucking dumbass.”

Well that’s unexpected. “You don’t think… he meant it?”

At this, Yoru scoffs. “God no. In fact, if he has taste like me, he’d take your healing over Sage’s any day. Hers is like. Proficient, right? Technically flawless. But it’s so cold. She’s been at it for a while, and healing is just another obligation for her. You though. Yours is warm. Spreads through you like the heat from one of those old-fashioned light bulbs. And something about the way your power works…”

Here he trails off for a second, noticing how intently you’re listening. “Go on,” you coax, moving your hands down to focus on his ribcage.

“Your healing has a lot of you in it. Any time your mirror—or you actually, now that I think about it—fixes me up, I can feel how much you care about helping me. It’s nice and comforting, like honey, or sunlight on your back or some shit.”

Oh. Okay then.

“Why would you tell me this,” you ask quietly, starting to finish up the process and apply a few rounds of gauze to stabilise the major wounds.

“I want to cause problems for him. It’s funny.” For once, there’s no malice or ego behind his words. It’s nice to see him surprisingly genuine.

You go to shoot back a retort, but the intercom crackles and Brim’s voice comes through. “Command to Patch, status report? It’s been a few.”

Yoru’s eyes flash for a second, suddenly aware of the danger he’s in. He shifts uncomfortably as you take breath before responding, keeping eye contact with the man in front of you.

“All clear Command, I’m returning to base shortly.”

Yoru lets out a low whistle. “Shit, and you could have been a narc about it.”

You give a wry smile. “I suppose you’re right. I’m assuming you’ll leave this off your mission report to Sage?”

He nods.

As you turn to leave, his hand grabs your wrist. “What is it, rift-squawker?”

“Talk to him, patchy. He’s dumb, and the people he likes most are the ones he pushes away the most. He’s terrified to lose them, but he’s even more terrified of things almost working out.”

“I don’t think he’s dumb,” you muse quietly. “But I’ll take your word for it. Take care yeah? Don’t let me have to patch you up again.”

You clap him on his good shoulder and head back to extraction. The last thing you hear from him, almost under his breath, is a quiet ‘maybe there is hope then.’

Whatever that means.

---

Back at base, things are way less tense. Aside from Omega team’s triumph, Icebox was a total wipeout and the team managed to secure valuable intel about the mirror protocol’s next movements.

After dragging your tired bones to the infirmary and having Skye give you a top up, you’re about to hit the sack when a familiar form crosses your path. A lot of your hackles from earlier have gone down, and what the mirror Yoru had said flashes through your mind.

“Yoru!”

He turns around, face surly as ever.

“What is it, healbot? Come to gloat about your victory on the new frontier?”

You push back the instinctual retort, and opt for a more peaceful route. “Eh, the geodome was a bit touristy. I hear Icebox went well though. I don’t know what you did to get Viper commending you, but it sounds like you let ‘em have it.”

Yoru’s a bit caught offguard by your lack of defensiveness, but it doesn’t stop him from shooting back “yeah, turns out not having a healer is no big deal, actually.”

“That’s not what he said,” you muse. That piques his interest.

“Who?”

Oh shit.

“Oh, y’know…” you say evasively, waving your hand.

“Probably Phoenix, he doesn’t know shit.”

Oh? Bet. “Literally you,” you say before you can stop yourself.

That gets his full attention.

“The fuck do you mean me, patchy? I haven’t told you jack shit.”

You shoot a furtive glance around the corridor, and pull him into a small maintenance room shutting the door behind.

“Mirror you, idiot.”

“Where the fuck did you find my bastard clone? Scratch that, how the fuck did you have a full conversation with him?”

Ugh, no going back now. “It was… an arrangement of sorts. He was pretty dinged up and I-“ your voice catches here. “I couldn’t exactly walk past him when he was so hurt.”

“So, what, you healed him with your magic healing powers,” Yoru says incredulously.

“Don’t be mad…”

“Actually?” Yoru’s voice peaks, and you have to shush him, checking the handle.

“Hey if it was you surely you’d want the mirror me to he-“

He cuts you off. “Obviously but why the fuck would you heal me after all the shit I said earlier?”

This catches you off guard. “You… you were hurt, I know I’m not Sage but I thought you’d rather not die.”

“But like I obviously wasn’t serious about the whole healing thing. Wait…” he catches sight of your expression. “You thought I was serious about preferring Sage’s healing to yours?”

“Until he said something about it, Yoru, yeah. It got under my skin.”

He rocks back and puts a hand to his forehead, grimacing. “Shit. God. Fuck. I’m…” He grits his teeth. “I’m sorry. I- yeah that was on me. You know I don’t mean it right?”

Wow. An actual apology from Yoru? The fuck kind of magic did mirror Yoru work?

“Yoru it’s, it’s fine. I guess I put a lot of myself into my healing so it’s a point of pride for me. It kinda sucks when people turn around and say I’m less-than.”

“I know you put a lot of yourself in it,” he says quietly. “That’s… one of the things I really like about your healing. That’s why it’s… my favourite…” That last bit is barely audible.

A bit of a flush of pride starts to prickle your cheeks, though you try your best not to show it.  “Yoru, you know you can just say that upfront, right? Like, it’s okay to recognise when you like what other people do.”

“I know. I know, I just-“ He mumbles the next bit. “What if they think I’m stupid for enjoying their help, and what if they don’t think as highly of me?” The light is low, but even so you can see the heat starting to radiate off his face as he gives you this surprising dose of honesty.

“Are you kidding me? You’re one of the best even in the protocol. Insane marksmanship, brilliant record and an amazing knack for getting behind enemy lines. Why would anyone think you’re stupid or not respect you.”

“But,” he sputters out. “I want you in particular to like me and like what I do.” Just as quickly as the words leave his mouth, he clamps his hands over and looks away, very pointedly avoiding eye contact.

Wow. Wow, okay.

“I should go,” he says abruptly, and whirls around to leave. Anticipating the gesture, you catch his wrist and tug him back.

“Yoru you freakin’ dumbass. I think you’re great. You’re one of my favourite people in the protocol, and I like it when you can be honest with me. I think it’s really sweet.”

Without warning, he draws in close, chest going up and down at quite a rate. He really looks like he wants something, wants to say something or do something, and you’re starting to get the sense you know what it is.

Fuck it, worth the risk.

You close the distance and press your lips against his. He goes completely stiff for a second and you almost freak out, worried that you’ve misread the many cues. But then he’s pushing into the kiss hungrily, his hands reaching around and pulling you close, growling at the sensation of finally having you up close.

Every movement you make, he leans into it and responds tenfold, huffing and tugging and trying to hold as much of you as he possibly can.

You both near run out of breath before you finally break, standing there panting and looking at each other. His hair is wild and his eyes are gleaming with no small amount of satisfaction, and maybe even a hint of relief.

He pulls you in close again, this time wrapping his arms around you for a bone-crushing hug. “Your clone is the fucking wing-man of the century,” you murmur into his ear.

Yoru gives a gruff chuckle. “I suppose he is.”

[alilmusebundle]

punnybonessnas​:

He started in on his own meal, assuming that conversation would be limited now that the outlier had began shoveling his food down with gusto, not just due to hunger, but due to the limited time usage of his utensils.

He hoped that someday he’d discover some kind of alloy that could stand up to Noctis’s corrosion and decay, so he could recreate it to make more durable dinnerware for his personal use.

He knew he didn’t care one way or another, especially since he just turned the corroded silverware into an additional snack - but maybe it’d feel nice to own something that would actually last, when he did feel like eating in a more normalized way.

It was likely a silly idea, as most of his tended to be, but it was a budding goal nonetheless, one he still hoped was possible.

He was surprised when the smoking spoon was suddenly pointing at him, and even more baffled when Noctis deigned to elaborate his point.

In the middle of his meal..

And.. a vague, misdirected indication of worry, and attachment enough to tell out an imposter that could shapeshift?

He wouldn’t call him on it, it was enough just to know. Percy had been reading between the lines to determine the true intent of the antisocial and emotionally-constipated individuals in his life for decades now. That smoking gu- err.. spoon, of sentiment certainly wasn’t getting past him.

“Apologies for that, doesn’t happen near as often, but.. kind of a doozy for everyone in different ways, I guess. I’ll continue to work at it, try to keep the sour away from you, at the least. I don’t like making things more difficult for you to maintain.. accident or no.”

He speared a chunk of meat to pop into his mouth, face still betraying nothing other than the gleeful change of his eyelight colors and shapes, though his leg was lightly kicking in a happy stim from his chair.

“As for an imposter outcode? It’s not.. impossible. But maybe give Rory the chance to interrogate them before eating them. Even if I wasn’t in potential trouble.. I’d be curious to know why they’d go to those lengths to try and impersonate me. Wouldn’t you?”

Oh good, the opposite of delicious sour-apple was radiating off of Percy in step with the symbol switcheroo of his eyelights. He’s so very happy about the extra rotten taste of positive energy bonking against him from across the table while he’s trying to eat. At least he’d almost finished.

The ear on the forever unstable left side of his head twists to the side in distaste. Again, he was used to this constant miasma of nasty radiating off of Percy, but he hadn’t meant for it to increase like this. The fuck had he said to get this shit smelling worse?

With his free hand, he paws at his snout- er, rubs at his nose as it wrinkles. Unless he was accidentally elongating that part of him- ugh, whatever. Rubbing didn’t actually help anything, considering it wasn’t actually his nose that smelled emotions, it was just a weird little tick he didn’t understand and kept doing.

His lower jaw juts out in annoyance,

“i guess... he’d let me eat them after anyways.” Is his grumbled answer. Then, he lifts his chin slightly, and juts out his lower jaw. Teeth, still sharp from his spike in aggression and now minor annoyance, curve up in an under-bite.

“they’d probably be coming after me anyways. would basically be asking for it.”

He’d learned that a death to a Nightmare was just under being enveloped by the Void as a worse possible way for an outcode to die. While he wasn’t actually eager to eat a living being... most of the time... 70% of the time. If someone were to hurt one of the few people that had helped him find a sense of self and stability, he would show no mercy.

[lilacevans]

are you death or paradise?

ahhhh, first fic! just a liccle ficlet for you. dark, but not too dark. please lemme know what you think!! (i know i said in my tags that it would be mafia!ari but uh, i changed my mind and this came out instead. but that one's sat in my drafts for another time!) anyway, thank you for 160+ followers!!

dark!steve rogers x avenger!reader. tw; minor depictions of injury, kidnapping. if you're under the age of 18, my work isn't for you, go away

ok im gonna go hide now ahhhhh. also it’s my work so, don’t pinch it/recreate it or i’ll show up at ur house and steal your spoons

You could sense something was wrong the moment you opened your eyes.

The room around you was dimly lit by a single light hanging low in the center of the ceiling. The walls were bare, paint peeling that showed the solid concrete underneath. The floor was filthy, covered in dirt and dust, and a metal rusted door seemed to be the only way out. There were no windows, and it was basically vacant— nothing in the room except for the dingy mattress you were laying on, a toilet, and a sink.

All you knew at that moment was that you needed to get out of here; wherever here was.

You groaned as you pulled yourself up, wincing as every bone and muscle screamed under your skin, your entire body begging for you to lay back down. You dusted off your hands as you coughed, instantly regretting it as pain spiked through your lungs causing you to clutch at your chest. Your throat was dry and scratchy, your head pounded.

You then reached a hand up to find the source of the pain and as your fingers touched the back of your head you winced as you touched the painful spot and pulled your fingers back and discovered blood on your fingers, rubbing your fingers together as more confusion settled in and you questioned how you ended up here.

Before you had a chance to even question your situation further or to scream out, a loud clunk rang out in the room, followed by the turning of a lock and the scraping of the metal door being swung open. Your hands shot up in front of your eyes as a harsh light shined on you, making you unable to see whoever was standing in the doorway. It wasn’t until the person made it to the center of the room that you gasped and rushed to your feet before the chains on your ankles pulled you back down onto the mattress.

“Steve?” You asked in disbelief, eyes darting from the thick, heavy metal cuff around your ankle and the man before you. 

Steve didn’t look right. He had a sick smirk on his lips and his uniform was dark with red detailing and the signature Hydra logo splayed across his chest.

“Bingo,” Steve affirmed enthusiastically, clicking his fingers before pointing them and lips breaking into a wide smile, full of teeth and a glimmer of something dark in his eyes. “But, not the one you're probably hoping for.”

You gawked up at him, unable to say a word. The man you’d spend the last year getting to know had been a total lie, or there were two. God, you were so confused. Think! 

As you continued to stare up in horror, the memory of the two of you hanging out in the gym came back. He had pulled you along, promising a sparring session to blow off some steam after a mission went wrong, and then hit you over the head with a dumbbell as you leaned down to stretch.

“You’re confused,” Steve said, sassy and rushed as he sat down in front of you, holding up his hands. “Allow me to explain-“

“You lied,” You stressed, heartbroken, voice wavering and breath shaky. “You lied to us all.”

“I never lied, silly, Steve replied, condescension dripping from his lips as he reached out a hand towards you. You quickly smacked it away, earning a displeased sigh from the man you once considered a friend. “I just simply didn’t tell anyone. That’s the whole undercover part— You know, you’ve done it. If people wanna believe that I’m some good-hearted hero then let them! They don’t need to know I’m also the one causing the chaos and inciting more violence and war behind the scenes.”

Steve reached out for you again but this time you quickly backed yourself against the wall, putting as much distance between yourself and Steve. Your whole body shook, the reality making you feel nauseous and vile. Tears threatened to spill over your eyes as you remembered all the times Steve had held you after bad days, rough missions, horrible arguments, and soul-crushing nightmares.

“Don’t be like that, baby. It’s still me,” Steve insisted, hand on his heart. “We can still have fun together. Who knows? They might let me keep you once we’re all done.”

“Who’s they?” You spat. If Steve thought there was any hope of keeping you, he was wrong. 

“I don’t run the show, sweetheart. Merely following orders. All you need to know is that if you’re a good girl and behave—“ Steve lunged forward quickly to gather you in his arms. You let out a shout and shoved against him pathetically, your body too weak fight against him as he manoeuvred you into his lap and cradled you like a child. Steve laughed tauntingly as he held you close to his chest and spoke into your ear. “And everything will be fine. Can you do that for me, baby?''

[solomonish]

way to go mc, you’ve allowed yourself to be poisoned (nowdateables)

CW for: descriptions of food and eating, brief descriptions of choking-like symptoms. (mainly in the intro, though the individual stories mention coughing, (light) blood and fainting). there will be talk of food and keeping an eye on what is being eaten in the individual character stories as well.

find the brothers here!

When you start coughing:

You’re at a sort of banquet when it happens, which is as embarrassing for you as it is horrifying for him

At first, the brother nearest you just assumes you’re choking, but just as your coughing gets loud enough to attract attention you’re already falling to the ground, covering your mouth.

Diavolo immediately moves towards you but he’s ushered away because nobody realizes it was a fumble on the new chef’s part and can’t take the risk of it being some kind of botched assassination attempt, and some of his staff have to drag him away as he watches helplessly over his shoulder

He sends Barbatos to check on you and sees him kneeling beside Simeon, who is already focusing on you, when he leaves the room.

Taking care of you afterwards:

What he couldn’t do when you were facing the brunt of the poison, he makes up for in taking care of you afterwards.

You wake up in a soft bed, much bigger than any you’ve ever been in before. He’s not touching you, but he is watching you as he lies on his side next to you, propping his head up on one hand. His eyes seem to glow in the dark room, and you think for a moment “huh, funny how this should be something that scares me to death.”

Diavolo is normally a pretty boisterous guy, but when he sees you’re awake and smiles at you, you see the softer, more serious side of him.

Diavolo tries to insist that you either go to the human realm for care or allow him to bring someone, but you point out that the whole program he’s got going on is a little abnormal and it would probably take too long for them to adjust.

He settles for someone you know, like Satan, Simeon or Solomon. He treats them with such firmness, though, you see their eyes flicker to you like “?? is this the same person?”

Diavolo is with you every spare moment he can get: in between meetings, cancelling any non-essential tasks, taking paperwork into the room and sitting with you while he does it

Lucifer probably has a sleepless week ahead of him, picking up his slack :(

Is very gentle with you and lets you take as much time as you need off from school

Afterwards, does thorough checks on his cooking staff and starts drafting mandates to add human-safe options in any restaurant or other eatery you choose

even asks for your input on any human dishes you think should be recreated. the food industry may hate you but hey, now you get to eat the Devildom version of your favorite food wherever you go!

When you start coughing:

Barbatos would never accidentally poison you. He is too practiced in his diligence. He would also never allow you to accidentally poison yourself - the watchful eye he keeps on the prince is not reserved for him.

If you were to somehow be poisoned, accidentally or due to the ill will of somebody else, he wouldn’t be in the same room.

That’s not to say he isn’t immediately alerted and, if he’s close by, he’s making his way to you immediately.

Barbatos has a relatively calm and even pleasant demeanor, but the solemn frown he has on his face when he enters the room silences any chaos your fainting might have caused.

Taking care of you afterwards:

When Barbatos needs to give stellar care, he just defaults to the royal treatment. lucky you, right?

He doesn’t have the most time to stop by and check on you - and the brothers probably whisked you away to the House of Lamentation before he could offer you a place closer to him. (they have the Devildom’s most capable medical staff on hand, yes?)

He definitely does visit you - sometimes Diavolo arrives under the guise of having to talk to Lucifer and lets Barbatos go to you, others he just shows up.

Definitely scrutinizes every little thing the brothers are doing for you and then decides to do things himself.

Soon enough he has traded out your pillows and blankets for much softer ones from the palace, and he makes sure you’re equipped with any potions or even human painkillers you may need while your body recovers.

If you ask him why he’s getting so into it, he just says “What can I say? I only know how to give the best treatment. I’ve had plenty of practice with My Lord.”

When he bends down to press a kiss to your forehead, give him a smirk and ask “oh? is this part of the special treatment Diavolo gets too?”

He’ll just give you a wry smile. You’re lucky he’s still got to treat you gently. “Save such jest for Lucifer, my dear.”

When you start coughing:

He probably did it himself

Everybody already knows his reputation with preparing food, and after you live for however many years and plant names change, you forget some of the names of what is and isn’t poisonous to a regular human.

When you start coughing, he isn’t even concerned - it’s more of an “ah shit, here we go again” reaction because he’s used to this

It isn’t until you fall on the floor that he gets...suspicious.

“Come on MC, don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” He asks, not even bothering to hide his disappointment

It isn’t until you don’t answer and he can hear you practically wheezing that he realizes what he’s done

He kneels down to the ground beside you and rubs your back in an attempt to show that he realizes what is going on and looks at the counter, where some of the ingredients he used are still sitting

He stares at a devildom plant that looks suspiciously like mint for a few moments before it clicks that it’s well liked in the devildom for the intense burning sensation it gives

Taking care of you afterwards:

Solomon is as adept at poison remedies as he is at accidentally poisoning people. (he wasn’t always immortal, after all. he’s had to live with his dangerous curiosity way before he figured that out.)

He’d keep you in Purgatory Hall for the first day, seeing the sorry state you were in.

Would offer you his bed to rest while he sits cross legged on the ground next to you, back against the bed with a spell book. Sometimes he’ll crack open an easy one and talk you through some of the simpler spells, and others he reads it for himself while you rest.

Isn’t big on the proactive care but all you need to do is say his name and he’s ready to get anything you need <3

Only tells the brothers that you’re staying the night because he doesn’t want them to kick the door down. Only tells them why because Asmo started making assumptions in the group chat

Everybody afterwards will tell you that honestly, what else did you expect to happen? It’s Solomon’s cooking, MC. Really.

Solomon figures you’re fine figuring out what foods are safe on your own, but since it was someone you supposedly trusted that poisoned you, he finds himself eyeing any food given to you by a friend. However, since HE was the one who actually poisoned you, this most often ends in intense stare-offs that you have to break up

When you start coughing:

Angels don’t have to be as careful as humans - after all, their lives and bodies aren’t nearly as fragile as yours is.

He doesn’t notice that there’s something in the dish you can’t eat, but he does notice the moment you realize something is wrong.

Watching a human realize that they’ve just put their life in danger is a horrible thing, and the look in your eyes sent his blood pressure skyrocketing before your coughing even got super bad.

He can see your lips swelling and that’s when he looks at the salad on your plate.

He doesn’t dare leave your side, and instead opts to send an emergency message to EVERYONE.

Surprisingly, the “MC. POUSOND. NOW. 💀” gets the message across fairly efficiently.

Taking care of you afterwards:

Being under the care of an angel is a heavenly experience indeed.

Simeon is allowed to stay with you while you recover, offering you multiple soothing drinks and chapsticks to help alleviate your pain.

He keeps your room clean and cool so your environment is as peaceful as can be!

Any gifts the brothers offer, he gives to you personally.

He jokingly offers to spoon-feed you, and if you take him up on the offer you’re both blushing by the end of it.

Once you’re better, he’ll find you at lunch and cheerfully remind you to look what’s on your plate. if you brush him off, he’ll just smile and say something like “don’t you remember what happened last time?” but his smile says something dangerous

When you start coughing:

HE. FREAKS. OUT.

Most likely to think this was a direct attack on you and he’s ready to throw hands. Simeon has to place a hand on his shoulder to get him to calm down.

His voice gets higher the more he fights to get close to you, and Simeon starts gently leading him away while sending concerned glances over his shoulder

Taking care of you afterwards:

The first time he brings you sweets and the demons feel the need to check it over and refuse to give it to you he almost cries

He’s not the one who hurt you, and he worked hard on those!!

Simeon tells him that your stomach might be upset still and that makes him feel a little better, because at least he didn’t directly offend you like that.

Will get “angry” (read: pouty) if you don’t let him PERSONALLY inspect what you’re eating for anything poisonous

Can be found at the kitchen table in Purgatory Hall, hunched and asleep as he drools over cookbooks with human-safe recipes 

[yunkiwii]

—potions gone wrong—

☆ hogwarts au ☆

pairing: bsf!hyunjin x gn!reader | ft. jeongin and mentions of minho

supportive oc: angela, female

genre: sfw. comedic and chaotic, may be considered fluff by some people

wc: 2.4k

warnings: hints of jealousy, mentions of illegal (magical world wise) actions, potion-induced obsession

a/n: i'm pretty sure that in the harry potter series amortentia doesn't work the way i described here, but let's just ignore that shall we? ♡

summary: two boys decide to make a love potion to conquer the crush of one of them. unfortunately, something seems to have gone wrong and y/n needs to step in..

shout out to: ficscafe prompt dialogue event ♡

↳ "I'll give you 20 bucks if you kiss me."

↳ "I don't think that's legal, but we can work around it."

↳ "Shut up, this isn't a wattpad fanfic"

Completely imersed in the pile of books you gathered in the library in order to try and understand more about potions, you get startled when a boy throws himself into the chair next to you, a yellow stripped tie hitting your head in the process.

"I'll give you 20 bucks if you kiss me."

"What? No!", you give him a disgusted and confused look before digging your head into the old dusty pages again.

"Come on!! Angela keeps coming to me trying to snuggle and kiss me and-", as dramatic as he is, Hyunjin pretends he is going to be sick, exaggerating on the nasty sounds way too close to your ear.

"What? Why?", your bestfriend finally caught your full attention as you turn to face him, "Wait, Angela as in like, Angela your major crush perfect-Angela? Weren't you supposed to like, I don't know, enjoy the attention?" But then the face he makes, his cheeks turning shades of pink as his gaze drifts away from you and he sinks down in his chair in embarrassment, realization hits you, "No! No you did not! Are you like what, dumb?", you flick is head inducing a loud squeal to come out his mouth.

"It was Jeongin's idea!", his voice three pitches higher than before, "And I can't be that dumb if I managed to make that stupid love potion work. But that's beside the point, will you do it or not?"

"Do what? Kiss you? And how will that help you dimwit?", you went to flick his head again because, to be fair, he deserved it, but Hyunjin knew you too well and held your hand in time to stop you from hurting his pretty face, as he likes to state.

"To break the curse! Make her give up on me by making her think we're together or something!"

"What curse? There is no curse! And she isn't even thinking right now, she might just kill me out of jealousy!", at this point you're pratically yelling at each other and are forced to leave the library, resuming this odd conversation on your way to Ravenclaw's common room.

"I still can't believe you let yourself go with what Jeongin tells you. He's evil you know?"

"Should've guessed by the green scarf huh?", you slap his arm lightly, not very fond of the jokes made regarding the fact your other best friend is a Slytherin.

"So, how do I solve this?", he basically pleas at you as you sit down on the desk next to the fireplace, as far away as possible from your housemates. Every two in three students has made, or attempted to make, some sort of potion or spell to have something in their advantage. However, amortentia wasn't just "some potion", and if some were to find out that Hwang - head in space - Hyunjin succeded at his attempt they would never leave his poor ass alone, so for now your plan was to keep this subject as low-key as possible.

"Marry her." you say nonchalantly while, without his knowledge, already looking up all about amortentia, its possible side effects and how long it would take to wear off - if ever-, receiving a whine in return.

"It was really fun at first, you know? The flirting was cute, the smooches were great," and boy he put some emphasis on that adjective,"but now it's like she's obsessed with me! She's clingy and talks with that annoying voice and I can't seem to get rid of her!" Hyunjin throws himself face down into the old couch and whines again, words muffled by the pillow where he burried his face. "She's probably standing right outside the door just now!"

"Wait, what do you mean it was fun at first? How long has this been going on Hwang Hyunjin? And why am I only knowing of this now?", you turn around in your chair way too fast, hitting with your knee on the other chair next to you before facing the mop of brown hair all spread around the blue pillow.

"Well, I barely ever saw you all week!", the boy turns his head just the minimum amount to look at you, "You're either with your nose buried in those old books, or with your hands all over Lee Minho! Not my fault you no longer have time for your friends..."

"First of all," you pull out the pillow he's laying on, his face falling on the black cushion as a few curses leave his lips, "lower your tone! I did not spend the week with my hands all over Minho, I am tutoring him in potions!"

"Which you're not that good at, that's why you walk everywhere with those fat books..." Hyunjin rolls his eyes at you as he recovers the pillow from your hands again, "Don't deny it (y/n), you've got the hots for him!"

"Oh sweetie, I sense jealousy in your tone... is that why you gave Angela a poorly made potion?", you show him the page you've been reading between the backs and forths of your not so relevent argument, only for him to realize the potion should've worn off two days ago. Instead, it only got worse. "Perhaps you could use some reading too huh?"

The boy rips the book from your hands, grunting between his teeth sounds you doubted to be words as he makes his way out, only to shut the door as soon as he opens it, squealing loudly when his eyes meet the ones from the Gryffindor's brunette standing right in the middle of the hallway.

"I'm telling you (y/n), she won't leave me alone! It's like she's obsessed!", Hyunjin keeps his back against the door, afraid the girl could open it by some miracle driven by her potion induced feelings, hence she doesn't have the password.

"Well, you see Hyunjin... that's because she is! And it's your fault, you should simply face it..."

"Oh I'm going the kill Jeongin...", the boy grunts ignoring your words completely as the whines coming from the other side of the door overlapped them, "Can you go get him? Or get rid of her?"

You make your way to the door Hyunjin refuses to unblock and, when words and pushes didn't make the tall boy move, you had to resort to your wand, although the simple threat was more than enough for him to make way for you. He stayed hidden in the corner as you parted the door slightly to tell the girl her beloved had disapparated from there, and she should probably look at the quidditch court. The fact she believed you only proved how strongly she was affected by the potion, since everyone knew Hyunjin would never go to a sports court by his free will and disapparating into and out Hogwarts wasn't possible at all.

As soon as the path got clear you both made your way to the shrieking shack through the whomping willow everyone was so afraid of, but that was exactly why the three of you claimed it as your secret meeting place.

Jeongin was already waiting as you sent him a message through your magic notepad when you got rid of Angela, and you had to secure Hyunjin to not throw the book at the Slytherin boy who only laughed in return. The laughter didn't last long though, because you only stopped Hyunjin so you would be the one scolding the younger one, flicking his head the same way you did to the lover boy earlier.

"Hey! What did you do that for?", the boy frowned at you rubbing his forehead.

"To bring you back to reality, so you can both fix the mess you made!"

"But what's the problem?" Jeongin looked at you with honest confusion on his face, "Is this about the potion? You know that thing wears off in like a week or so right?"

"Exactly... do the math now genius..." Hyunjin rolls his eyes before leaning his back against the spiderweb covered walls.

The three of you spent the whole afternoon trying to figure out what went wrong in the first place, you analyzing every single detail of the procedure, and the boys trying to recreate every step they took to reach the final product. But, after hours of research and theories nothing seemed to have gone wrong, well except for the exaggerated and long-lasting effect of the potion.

"We should just obliviate the poor girl..." suggested Jeongin at one point, head in his hands as a sing of withdrawal.

“I don’t think that’s legal, but we can work around it...” You agree with him closing the book you were now reading for the fifth time.

"Are you guys serious? Because that sounds great! Can we get away with it?" Hyunjin's eyes were sparkling in hope as he shifted in his seat to a more straight up position, ready to do whatever it took to get to walk in peace around the school, without being unexpectedly smooched in the cheek and squezeed into a hug every time the girl spotted him.

"No, it's a joke!" You both sigh at your friend's desperation before calling it a day, deciding to resume your research first thing in the morning.

As per usual, you met with the boys for breakfast at the dining hall, though this time they weren't alone and you couldn't help out a giggle when Angela, as glued to Hyunjin as possible while feeding him something funny looking with a spoon, winked at you as soon as you sat in front of her and next to Jeongin. The latter looked almost as horrified as the pampered boy, and you had to focus to try and keep yourself from bursting into laughter before the scene that was unfolding in front of you.

Hyunjin looked like an annoyed pouty baby slumped in his chair - as an attempt to go unnoticed -, while the smiley girl, - one that seemed to have way too much energy in the morning -, pulled some strands of the boy's hair behind his ear before kissing his cheek, "You're so pretty Hyunnie-jin, and I hate to leave you," the girl pouts as she pinches his cheeks rather aggressively, "but don't worry sugarplum, I'll be waiting for you in the astronomy tower when you leave class." This time the kiss is aimed at his lips, but Hyunjin antecipates her intentions and dodges his head with a slick move, just not fast enough to be fully free of her, ending up with her lips awkwardly attached half to his jaw, half to the corner of his lip.

"So you decided to give in?" You couldn't help the grin that was forming on your face, finding it hilarious how the universe always had a way to keep things balanced.

"Shut up. I had to if I didn't want to starve myself, it was one sacrafice I was willing to take." Hyunjin furiously rubs his face with a napkin, as if it would erase the memory of the previous demonstration of affection.

"I say it's the karma, you were basically playing and manipulating her the moment you gave her the potion, now you face the consequences."

"It's like she's taking revenge..." Jeongin mumbles more to himself than to his friends, but he was still heard, and had now two pairs of eyes locked on him waiting for a further explanation to what seemed to be a pretty plausable theory. "We already concluded we didn't do anything wrong, right?"

"Yes, it's still hard to believe though..." you take a sip of your pumpking juice with a raise eybrow, honestly still impressed at how they pulled that off.

"So what if she got aware that Hyunjin gave-"

"We, Jeongin, we!! This wasn't just me okay? I just got the, uh, benefits?"

"Ok, sure, whatever... What if she became aware that we," emphasis on the pronoun as he glanced at Hyunjin, "gave her a potion and now that it wore off she is pulling this act as a pay back? Because, according to our lover boy, if it was nice at first then why would she suddenly start acting all obsessively?"

Both you and Hyunjin took a moment to reflect on this new theory, one Jeongin was really proud of as showed by his smug grin when he crossed his arms and relaxed back in his chair.

"I hate to admit it, but that makes a lot of sense... and explains why she winked at me when I got here..."

"Okay yes, she is faking it... why else would she wink at (y/n) when I'm the one she's supposed to be focused on?", the boy threw his arms up with a questionting - and slightly offended - look.

"Time for confrontation!" you were already standing up with Hyunjin following the lead, but you held yourselves back when you realized Jeongin wasn't moving, looking between the both of you still grinning.

"I've got a better idea..."

It was a terrible idea, you thought, and wanted no part in it at all so you let the boys discuss the details while you just sat there judging their poor life decisions.

The plan was for Hyunjin, instead of confronting her and get it over with as you suggested, to play along as if he too was deeply in love with her, and see who would break out of character first. As much as you tried to explain how childish and stupid the plan was, the boys simply wouldn't listen to you, convinced this was the best idea they've ever had.

Hyunjin got oddly excited about this and ran to astronomy class, already antecipating the act he would pull off when he'd see the girl waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs when he'd get out, leaving you and Jeongin alone in the dining all. The contrast of your opinions on this was pretty clear in your faces, Jeongin laughing loudly, you furrowing your brows and shaking your head in disapproval.

Then, all of a sudden, the boy stops laughing and looks at you, "What if they actually end up falling in love after all this?"

He sounded seriously concerned yet amused at the same time, while you only rolled your eyes at him before collecting your books and leaving for class as well.

"Shut up, this isn't a wattpad fanfic."

networks: @ficscafe @k-library @k-dinernet @districtninewriters

taglist: @dreamwrld @su-lix @bobateastay @leihey @serialee @hyunsluvv

⇢ let me know if you want to be added to the taglist ♡

[rosesradio]

If you are still taking requests, could you maybe do a portbowell where Ricky is sick?? (ik sickfics are generic but literally no one writes this ship, and I can’t think of anything else)

you're good, sorry this took me like 4 days for no reason ! i wanna write more portbowell and i have a longfic idea like i said earlier but only like four people would read it...but maybe i will anyway...anyways here's a 550 word drabble for you <33

"Guys, come on! I was just recreating a movie trope, wasn't it romantic?" Ricky asked, though just as he finished speaking he sneezed--once, twice, three times. Not to mention his voice was particularly nasally, his nose pink to match. Damnit, this cold. It wasn't exactly the most romantic look…and he really wanted to be romantic enough. He wanted to just be enough. For Gina and EJ.

They'd already assured him of that once tonight. He'd walked all the way to Gina's in the pouring rain--in his defense, it wasn't raining when he left. He knew EJ was there, and yeah, maybe he was date crashing, but it had to be said. These feelings had been building for months, and now they were all on the table…and Ricky was glad to say the least, because that overwhelming burden was off his shoulders, and now he could try to relax.

"You could have had the same amount of romance with an umbrella, maybe?" Gina suggested, but she was smiling in spite of herself. She was just so cute, and the look of utter infatuation she was giving him now…he'd sleep outside in the rain if it meant keeping her this happy.

“I have no regrets,” Ricky shrugged, though he lit up with relief as EJ walked in carefully, holding a bowl of the chicken noodle soup he’d promised to make. "Thanks," he took the bowl from him, trying a spoonful before offering EJ a smile. Yep, this was most definitely from a can--and Ricky would know--but the gesture was sweet.

"Are you feeling better?" EJ asked, eyes concerned in a way that made Ricky's face flush as a hand moved to his knee. Ricky's clothes were soaked as he came in, so now he was wearing an adorable--or ridiculous--combination of Gina and EJ's clothes. EJ's sweatshirt was a size too big on him, which was fine by him as he snuggled into the warmth. Gina's pajama pants, however, showed a generous amount of ankle that would make any Victorian-era person hot under the collar.

"Yeah, I'm…great." Ricky smiled crookedly. "I'm sorry again for date-crashing."

"Don't worry about it," EJ replied, shaking his head. "We want you here," he frowned for a moment, his gaze contemplative before leaning in and pressing a kiss to Ricky's cheek.

"Yeah," Gina added. "EJ probably would've wanted to go over to your house if you hadn't come over here." she gave EJ a knowing look before kissing Ricky's other cheek.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Ricky warned, even as he felt on top of the world with the gesture alone. "You guys could get sick…"

"Well then, maybe when you get better, you could return the favor and make us soup," EJ asked. "You know it's really hard work taking care of you, right?"

"All you did was heat up soup from a can, it took about seven minutes, if that!" Ricky argued with a laugh before taking in another spoonful. It was some pretty good soup. "You exhaust me, Caswell."

"Yeah, well, you exhaust me, too, Bowen." EJ replied, though with his tone, it might as well have been a love confession.

"Enough, you two," Gina interjected with a grin. "You guys are lucky I'm even asking your opinion, but what movie are we watching?"

[emilyoftheshadows]

Deja Vu

Hi! so this is a one-shot based off of olivia rodrigo's new song deja vu. It took a little longer than I thought to write, but here it is in all its questionable glory. Of course it is rowaelin because what else endgame couple would I write lol. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!

wordcount// 1838

*****

Aelin felt sick to her stomach as she stared at her phone. The bright screen illuminated the disarray she had created around her. The bed covers were thrown recklessly around Aelin’s mattress, a package of half eaten oreos shoved between the twisted sheets. Bottles of alcohol were towered on the floor and nightstand, creating a maze that she had to maneuver around every time she left the softness of her bed. Tears stained Aelin 's cheeks, the sadness inside of her spilling out everytime she even thought of him. How his touch felt on her skin or how his lips used to kiss her forehead in comfort.

But all of that was over for her. Because he didn’t need her. Her love and her own problems only held him back, and Aelin knew it. She was a stain in Rowan’s perfect new life, and she would die before she let herself be the reason for any sadness he experienced.

So here she was, 6 months and 9 days after she had broken up with him. His face had been scrunched up in confusion, his emerald eyes glistening with tears as she had said her goodbyes. Aelin knew the breakup had hit him hard, but she consoled herself with the thought that once he got over their relationship, he would be free to live his dreams. Aelin would no longer be the unnecessary tether holding him back from his full potential.

Rowan had moved soon after the couple had ended university, taking a high end job at Maeve’s Publishing Co. in Doranelle. He had met his people, The Cadre as they were known to the locals. Working with his new team, Rowan had formed an unbreakable bond with the men he spent so much of his time with. As much as Rowan had found his new home in Doranelle, the opposite could be said for Aelin.

She had opted to stay in Rifthold, accepting her own high end job at Hamel Hotels working as their Brand Manager. At first, the glitz of the hotels and fast paced life had been exhilarating. That was until she had learned her boss was a demanding misogynist and occupied her time with insane projects and endless demands.

Her sour demeanor matched Rowan's exuberance head for head, and every visit she could see the concern etched in that beautiful face deepen with time. But when she went to visit Rowan in Doranelle, all Aelin saw was a makeshift family that he would have forever. The Cadre was working their way up in the publishing world, becoming an unstoppable force and you could practically feel the excitement buzzing throughout Rowan.

It was then when he was surrounded by his men eager for their future, that Aelin knew that she was a distraction. A miserable self loathing girlfriend who was holding him back from immersing himself into this new opportunity. So she took herself out of the picture, doing whatever was necessary to make sure he moved on from her.

She stopped answering his texts, let his endless calls go to voicemail, and unfollowed him on every social media site she had. After the third month, he finally stopped calling her everyday. The month after that, he stopped texting her. Although Aelin wanted this, she couldn’t help but be sad when she stopped getting his streams of i miss yous and hearts.

Aelin had gotten herself a dog after the breakup, focusing all her misguided love and intentions into the white beast that ate all her shoes and furniture. Using his pictures, she made an account for him and used this new anonymous account to stalk Rowan and his Cadre, plus the girl that used to occasionally join the men on their outings. Lyria was Maeve’s assistant and had been through just as much hell as they did, dealing with their bosses' incessant needs. Because of this, the crew often invited her out to the bars as a way to unwind from long days of work, sharing funny mishaps and complaining about Maeve together.

She told herself it was just to check up on him, to make sure he was okay, but she knew deep down that she could never fully separate herself from Rowan. This account was her only link to him, and as shady as it was, Aelin would be damned before she ever gave up the chance to get a glimpse into his life.

But as she focused on her phone, all previous thoughts for Rowan’s wellbeing flew out of her head. Because on Fleetfoot’s instagram feed, Lyria had posted a picture. The scene was innocent enough to any other person looking at it. She sat outside, the sun filtering in through the trees in the background of the photo. On the small table in front of her sat one cup of strawberry ice cream, a spoon poking out of the top of the scoop creating the picture perfect image. Her delicate hand with its perfectly manicured fingers grasped a tan hand almost twice the size of hers, emphasizing her petite features.

But that hand is what stopped Aelin in her tracks. Because as she looked at the post again, that hand led her to the face she adored most in the world. All too fast, she was consumed by his emerald green eyes, a hint of mischief shining in their center. His silver hair reflected the light around him, giving Rowan an ethereal glow as he posed for the camera. Other than slight dark circles under his eyes, he looked perfectly content. A soft smile graced his features and his clothes showed no clear stains or rumpled appearance.

Rowan was okay. He was absolutely fine. And Aelin was not.

Because whether he realized it or not, Rowan had recreated their own first date. As awkward college freshmen, the couple had gone to a family owned ice cream shop run by a friendly old man Emrys. They would return to that ice cream shop at least once a week after that first date, getting to know the owner and his partner Malaki. They had gotten strawberry ice cream, and Rowan had only asked for one spoon, insisting that he could just feed her himself whenever she wanted a bite. The buzzard didn’t even like sweets as much as she did, only wanting to make her suffer. They had sat on a bench outside the restaurant, laughing at how silly they both were and enjoying their newfound relationship. That memory used to always bring a smile to Aelin’s face, causing nostalgia for a simpler time in their lives. Looking at this recreation on her phone though, all Aelin wanted to do was scream in his face for how careless he was with their past.

That moment should belong to them, and them only. Her vision became blurred with tears, the image of his face distorting in front of her. All she could feel was a pit opening up inside her, clawing its way through her body until all she felt was numb. Her tears stopped running down her face, her hands stopped shaking, and she could finally breathe again. But Aelin no longer felt heartbroken for the bird boy who had made her dreams come true. No, all she felt was curiosity. A curiosity for whether or not he got deja vu when he was with her.

---

Rowan sat on his couch, staring at the photo in front of him. He had gotten back from his date with Lyria a couple of hours ago, guilt crashing over him every time he looked at her. Because Lyria wasn’t the woman that made his heart soar or his bones ache when he wasn’t near her. No, that feeling only belonged to his fireheart. The woman who could apparently no longer stand his presence in her life.

Aelin had broken up with him abruptly, pushing him away when he knew she needed him the most. Rowan wasn’t blind, he could see how unhappy she was in Rifthold. Arobynn Hamel was a pervert at best and Aelin deserved to have something or someone good in her life. And he thought he could be that someone, he really did. Rowan had already put in his two week notice to Maeve with hope in his heart and a ring in his pocket. He would do anything to make Aelin happy, and nothing would ruin them, not even the job of his dreams.

But apparently, they weren’t on the same page. Because when he had gone to visit her in Rifthold, ready to offer his life to her, she had crushed his spirits in less than 5 minutes. He had flown back home, but Rowan never figured out why she felt the urge to end their relationship. The lack of closure and the loss of the other half of his soul led him to ruins. For months he texted and called everyday, hoping that she would open up to him about her pain. But Aelin never answered. And she never texted. Next thing Rowan knew, he had stopped trying all together.

The Cadre did all they could to comfort him, but none of them were even close to understanding the aching pain he felt in his heart everyday. Lyria was the only one who could stand his somber demeanor, choosing to spend her breaks near his desk and chit chatting about office gossip during the slow days. At first, the distraction had been nice. But somewhere along the line, Lyria had become more serious about Rowan than he cared to admit.

Now here he was, with an almost-kind-of-talking-maybe-dating situationship that he didn’t understand even started. He mistook her friendliness for just that--friendship. But he also hadn’t stopped her. Deep down, Rowan knew that he was using Lyria, but he couldn’t help but keep the facade going on. Because if he was left alone again, Rowan didn’t think he would ever leave his apartment.

The nights were the worst, where he was alone with his endless thoughts, his regrets, his tears. The past 6 months had been rough, and if this was how he had to pick himself up again then so be it. Aelin sure as hell didn’t want him anymore and Rowan had to come to terms with it whether he liked it or not.

But still, sitting with his phone propped up in his hand, staring at his own face and the scoop of light pink ice cream in front of him, Rowan’s mind wandered to a simpler time. A time where they would be on a bench outside their infamous ice cream spot instead of the random ice cream parlor downtown. A time where Rowan’s eyes would be shining brighter staring into the deepest blue he had ever seen. A time where his fireheart would be taking that picture instead of the woman he strung along like a puppy dog.

Imagining his own heaven in his head combined with the bitter reality around him, Rowan felt a momentary sense of deja vu.

*****

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