#besides he has plenty of unhinged moments

[leslie057]

jonathan byers: generally quiet personality, sensible, slow to speak

audience: boooring

[wardenswateringhole]

Ingo comfort cuddles? Reader had a rough day and all they want is to be held for a little while (please and thank you, and no rush. Take all the time you need to get through other things first.)

(Take 2)

Your job was not the best in the world but for some reason all the stops had been pulled out to make your day the worst it has ever been. Entitled customers were the norm, but not unhinged ones that called the authorities when they did not get their way. What followed was lots of screaming, questioning and you being kept long after your shift had ended.

You looked at your phone as you left to see several messages from Ingo asking where you were. You should have been home an hour ago. You shot a quick message to him to let him know you were headed home before making the trip toward your abode.

Walking into the apartment, you were met with the smell of something familiar. The rustling of bags in the kitchen caught your attention. You walked in to see Ingo removing take out boxes from a paper bag. He looked at you sheepishly.

“Ah! You’re home!” He grabbed a pack of cutlery and handed you a box. “They kept you late so I figured something may have happened. You don’t have to tell me about it. I imagine it was stressful, so I ordered from your favorite restaurant. No dishes to worry about. Just relax and let's watch a movie or something.”

You took the box gratefully. The smell of the food made your mouth water. It was enjoyed in the living room. A blanket and a small pillow nest was set up. Almost like an indoor picnic. Ingo sat beside you, quietly listening as you vented to him about what had happened. His face contorted in various expressions as you explained the absurdity of the incident. He nodded, seeming to understand.

“There’s no end to the foolishness sometimes.” He chuckled. “We’ve had plenty of people like that. Officer Jenny came to know us on a first name basis at one point.”

The food was finished, and the containers set to the side for the time being. You laid cuddled up to Ingo’s chest on the floor as the movie you had playing in the background rolled its credits. He kissed your forehead. “If there’s anything I can do to make future days like this better, let me know. I absolutely know how it feels when nothing goes your way some days…”

You nodded. You thought about it, but nothing more could make a bad day better than Ingo’s sweet nature. You Rubbed your face into his chest. He wrapped his other arm around as if he knew exactly what you were asking for.

“Just rest. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t realize how much tension was in you as your body suddenly relaxed at that moment. Almost like his words had caused your muscles to unclench by magic. You could feel your eyes getting heavy. Ingo didn’t wake you or disturb you. He held you silently as you drifted off to sleep to the sound of his breathing.

“I love you, dearest...”

[chronicvagabonds]

it's funny how you want me to refresh your memory but after reading your reply, i might as well just copy and paste it because we're very similar when it comes to our faves lmaoskjds 💀

bleach is the only big, long anime/manga that i really got into besides inuyasha (my beloved) and it's been on my mind so much recently. the following yapping is most likely not spoilerfree

little teenage me watched the only episodes available (like what 10 years ago atp?) and couldn't get enough, so i switched to manga as well and read the entire thing lol

since they've picked up the anime again recently (thousand blood war arc) i've been getting back into watching it for nostalgia reasons but also because the recent animations REALLY do give the manga the appreciation it needed (imo)

you 🤝 urahara 🤝 me. bc why is he just so sksjkdfm. such a tease, but so helpful but also mysterious and honestly not someone you should naively trust with your life but that's what unfortunately makes him so great 💀 even more when they drop crumbs of his lore and backstory. honestly, might as well add yoruichi (miss thunderbeast black cat) into this mix bc both of them go hand in hand. 😤 my ultimate bleach crushes

adding to the list of shinigamis that i love would be Kenpachi with Yachiru. god, i love that guy 😩😩😩 everything about him. from his looks, to his manners (or lack of), background, how he became a captain, just big guy swing big sword but soft spot for little girl (whose bankai reminds me a lot of them hehe). AND KENPACHI'S BANKAI KSNDKJBD AS IF THIS MAN COULDN'T TURN INTO AN EVEN WORSE BERSERKER 👹👹👹 love that he didn't cast aside his usual demeanor when he "had to figure out his zanpakuto's name" to be able to use its powers properly (instead of just reishi zapping everywhere) and this guy just went something like "i don't care about your name. as long as you want to break and slice through shit as much as i do, we'll work great" and did 💀💀💀💀

ulquiorra was my MAN 😩😩 i used to draw him and grimmjow (he was just the perfect amount of assholey and friendly, plus his panthersuit meooow~) all. the. time. he's just my little emo boy trying to figure out the concept of humanity and what makes someone human. and omg. if the moment you mention between orihime and him is the same one i'm thinking of then.. 👀

i sent you an ask in the first place because i had watched the scene where he goes something like "tell me, what is a heart? if i tore a hole in your chest, would i see it? if i split open your skull, would it be there?.. i see now, in the palm of my hand.. is a heart." and i just thought 'damn, this is something yumi would write and ruin me with' and now we're here 🤪 tite kubo knew what he was doing when he put orihime and ulquiorra together. a living being, incarnation of love, healing and care with a being that only has a 'hollow heart', so so perceptive to everything but so clueless when it comes to orihime's warmth. just heartbreaking 😭

other arrancars that i took a 'liking' to are nelliel, nnoitra and szayelaporro. for nelliel, i would have loved more screentime in her adult form. she just seemed like such a sweetheart (in contrast to a lot of arrancar nature). when it comes to nnoitra it's entirely based on his concept and transformation bc he's probably one of the more dickheaded and nasty arrancars lmao. and i am a big sucker for scythes which he has plenty of when in his praying mantis form. just the unhinged nature. speaking of, i wouldn't even look in szayelaporro's direction if i could but the only reason he's on the list is bc of his fight with mayuri *shudders* 🫥🫥 something about tite kubo putting the two "scientists" against each other and one's concept is fertility/rebirth and the other.. re-creation of life but through science and immoral means lmao. i remember feeling so icky watching that fight.

my favorite arc has always been with the arrancars and hueco mundo. all of them representing a sin or emotion and the concept of 'hollow hearts' just intrigues me so much. really there's a lack of.. social etiquette in those vast lands which portrays every arrancar in such unique ways. and i'm just soo in for the hollowfication of characters (that one hollow ichigo form where he's just fully transformed and looks like a deviled bull?? *groans*)

speaking of icky, quincys are meant to be this holy and/or royal bloodline but a lot of their powers are far from anything i'd call holy 💀 maybe only in the sense that any normal human being would collapse in their presence (queue angel's true form "do not be afraid") äs nödt, giselle, gremmy and liltotto make it on my list of.. interesting quincys. you can just throw äs nödt and giselle into one and the same box of fuckign creppy, help me. äs nödt's only flaw being that it fears dying and going to hell when it itself is THE incarnation of FEAR ITSELF and uses it in its fight against rukia (which btw one of the most gorgeous bankais hands-down) and giselle who can form her own little zombie army just 🤺🤺🤺 BACK I SAID!!! i love that gremmy's strength and flaw is his mind. he embodies the concept of mental strength but also manifestation with it and it's oddly.. a very human concept? but it ends up bringing him to ruins when he loses grasp on his.. confidence but feels at peace all the same? especially in the fight against zenpaki (who is just as confident in himself) it felt like such a nice ending? idk and the only reason i love liltotto is because of their concept. small girl, surrounded by eccentric quincy girlies, goes chomp chomp, always hungry and just deadpans at everything. my bestie <33

one of my favorite episodes are probably whenever Kon (ichigo's stuffed animal) would take over his body lmao. everything was usually so intense and brutal but (usually) not when ichigo was back home, bedresting. but also that one episode where all the captain's showed up in his room during his recovery i- 💀💀💀 they relied on him TOO much

honourable mention of aizen's and ichigo's fight. i remember holding my breath. how do you defeat THE ORIGINAL MANIPULATOR?!? but laaawd. their "final" forms looked so GEEEEWWDDD 🫨🫨🫨 rip 😪

omfg you can tell i never got to just absolutely yapp someone's ear off about this franchise. there is so much i ended up deleting. i might as well just write the manga myself when i have so much to say. bleach enthusiasts (who love the story and characters more than they spend time arguing about if fillers were necessary or not) are so so rare. 😭 so DEFINITELY hit me up, hit me up when you 🫵 pick it up or wanna yap about it again. and now that you mention it and after talking about it so much i wanna go back and re-read it 😣 i might wait for them to finish the anime (end 2024 i believe unless they prolong the arc) first though.

i was snooping around your blog and saw that you also like bleach (the anime/manga) 👀 are you still following the new seasons or did you stop at some point?

do you have any favorite: character, shinigami (shikai/bankai), arrancar (abilities/resurrecion), quincy/sternritter (abilities/shift), visored, hollows, arcs? special moments that have stuck with you (positively/negatively)?

it's so rare for me to find someone else into it lol so you got me curious now~

•🃏

omgg when i tell you that bleach is the love of my life, possibly my fav manga ever (or at least one of my fav)!! i started reading and occasionally watching (bc i was more of a reader) back in 2012 until the manga ended (somewhere around... 2016?) and then i reread the whole thing again and watched whatever episodes were available :'))

i don't read mangas anymore, i sometimes watch anime (not very often) but i still cherish bleach so much. and omg seeing those terms made me go *blink blink* bc it's been so long i had to google to confirm what some of those were!

and that's why my answers might not make sense BUT I HAVE FAVS. definitely. firstly, ichigo, ofc. esp when he attained bankai. kisuke urahara is also my biggest anime crushes (also my anime crushes are such a strong indicator of my type). from the arrancars, i remember how obsessed i was with ulquiorra and grimmjow (ulquiorra's arc and the way he died? and the scene with orihime still lives in my head rent free).

i honestly don't remember much but i remember being a fan of the ishidas too. i also have the softest spot for rukia and byakuya, kenpachi and the little girl that tags with him. toshiro's powers always fascinated me the most and aizen was so hot for being the villain lmao. and omg ywach!! always gave me the chills.

i think my fav arc was when (the explanation's gonna suck) the soul society is in... shambles? with ywach and the other espadas. thousand year blood war or sth? basically before the manga ends. i think the ending and opening of this anime are perfection.

i think this is my cue to reread bleach bc i've been wanting to reread (and hopefully getting back into reading manga) for a while now. since the last time i touched this manga was in 2016, my knowledge is very dusty if you can't tell already-- but if i pick it up again, i'm bothering you 🫵 bc it really is rare to find a bleach enthusiast! i need to hear your fav moments and fav characters too, come on. refresh my memory (and give me the push to pick bleach again)

[therenlover]

In Sickness And In Health (An 18+ James Patrick March/Reader Oneshot)

This is 18+ content! If you are a minor, this work is not for you !!!

This fic is a sequel to my oneshot Heartsick, but it can be read as a standalone oneshot!

Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.

Tags: Smut with Plot, Weddings, Fluff, Ghost Smut, Cunnilingus, Sick!Reader, Obnoxious Titanic Knowledge

Rating: E, 18+

Warnings: Swearing, Major Character Death, Romanticization of Death, Murder, Unsafe Sex (it’s with a ghost, but just to be safe...), Mentions Of The Reader Having A Long Term Debilitating Illness

Word Count: 5500~

This fic has been crossposted to my AO3 under the same title

-------

“How are you feeling, my darling?”

James’s voice was soft as he entered your suite, slipping off his shoes before joining you on the bed. He smelled like antiseptic, hair and hands still damp from a recent wash. Underneath, though, was the sharp, coppery tang of blood.

You stretched as you answered, weak muscles shuddering with effort. “It’s a good day. Not great, I still feel like absolute shit, but I don’t feel like I’m actively dying anymore,”

“Well, that’s certainly an improvement,”

Your fiancé offered you a rare, genuine grin. Seeing him smile made the lie worth it.

In truth, you still felt truly terrible.

It had been almost three weeks since Mr. March had proposed, and true to his word he had been glued to your side helping you recover ever since. He helped you bathe, fed you meals, gave you medication, kept you entertained; days with him were filled with small, simple pleasures. You had never experienced anything like that attention before. Unfortunately, though, the time spent with James only seemed to help your mind, and not your body.

After close to two months of bed rest, your muscles were weak. It still took significant effort to do simple tasks like walking to the bathroom or using cutlery. Some days were better than others, but everything generally tended to end up as part of the indistinguishable haze of pain that clouded your memories lately. If nothing else, at least the fevers were less extreme.

The only light at the end of the tunnel was your wedding. It was still two weeks away, (“That’s plenty of time for you to recover fully, my dearest,” James had insisted) but once you were married that meant you could die. Oh, what a happy day that would be. There would be no more sickness, no more achy muscles, not another day of forced bed rest, just peace and quiet and plenty of sex. God, how you missed the sex…

Every day was another day closer to your peaceful end, and yet they seemed to stretch endlessly. Deep down, you worried that you might not even make it long enough to walk down the aisle alive. You shuddered at the thought. If James ended up having to carry you down the aisle you might just die of embarrassment before he had the chance to kill you.

“I can’t believe you killed someone without me,” You huffed, reaching out your shaking arms and inviting James to lay with you. He happily obliged.

“Would you have preferred me to let him live?” James pulled your torso gently onto his chest, letting you rest against him.

“No, but you could have at least let me watch. I’ve been stuck in here for weeks, James. I get bored,”

He ran a hand through your hair. “Perhaps next time darling, but hopefully, you will be well enough to join me before our next victim walks through the door,”

“Who was it this time?”

“A florist. Liz invited him to bring over a few samples before hiring him to do arrangements for the wedding, but they were atrocious. You should have seen them, my love, they were simply grotesque, not to mention that the color schemes didn’t even slightly match the carpets in the entrance hall. Who puts pink and yellow tulips in a wedding arrangement at a hall filled with reds and oranges?”

You gave a soft hum. “Were they all really that bad?”

“Well… perhaps I was a bit harsh, but can you truly blame me? I want our wedding day to be perfect. There shouldn’t be a single flower or ribbon out of place,” He emphasized his question by gently squeezing you to his chest.

“Is it really that important?”

James went still. “What do you mean by that, dearest?”

A sigh pushed through your lips, your chest aching from the effort. “I just don’t understand why we have to wait for this perfect wedding when we could just get married now. I’m not saying I wouldn’t enjoy a big ceremony, I’m sure it would be wonderful, but I’m just so tired James. Why does it matter if we say our vows in front of other people? There’s not gonna be anything legally or religiously binding between us anyway. Getting married to you, in my mind, is just promising to be by your side forever, so why does anything else matter besides you and me?”

Looking up, you noticed that Mr. March seemed to be deep in thought, lips pressed into a line as his thin eyebrows furrowed together. Your heart sank. Did a wedding ceremony really mean that much to him? In an instant guilt began to flood your stomach. You were really ruining a special moment in his life to die faster? Hell, did he even really want you to die? He had always relished in your warmth, enthralled by the thudding of your weak, living heart. Of course, he would hate you for rushing into marriage just to throw your life away. Or maybe he was stalling because it would be too much for him to kill you himself…

“James-” you placated, lifting a hand to his face, but he quickly snapped out of his thoughtful haze.

He gazed down at you with love in his eyes and a wicked grin on his lips. “You’re right! We shall be married this afternoon!”

A jolt of shock ran down your spine.

“What?”

“As you said, our wedding is a binding of souls, my darling! Our love is sacred, withstanding time and mortality, so who are we to bend to the rules of the common man? If an intimate ceremony for two is what you desire, I shall not deny you,” In one smooth motion, James rolled on top of you, arms boxing you in as he loomed above. He looked absolutely unhinged, eyes glinting wildly in the yellow lamplight.

You knew then that there would never be anyone else. No one could compare to James, your James. He would devour you whole and you would thank him all the while. With a sudden burst of energy, you reached up and pulled him into a scorching kiss.

It was sloppy, all battling tongues and clashing teeth, nothing like the soft pressing of lips that you had been sharing lately. How had you gone almost two months without this? Your heart felt like it was about to burst right out of your chest. As James bit down hard on your lower lip, you pulled fistfuls of his pinstripe suit into your hands.

After a few more seconds of desperate, breathless kissing James pulled away. You panted for air below him. “Why’d you stop?”

To your dismay, he climbed off of you. His hard-on was fully visible through his thin dress pants as he stood. “As much as I would love to ravage you now, dearest, I believe we have vows to exchange,”

“Can’t we just do them in bed? I want you now,”

He chuckled at your whining. “I may be willing to compromise on many things, but this is not one of them,”

“Please, Mr. March,” Your words were loaded, innocent doe eyes boring into his very soul, “for me?”

You could tell it was a difficult decision, but James stood strong. “I can’t say you haven’t thoroughly tempted me, but I’m afraid not darling,” he said firmly, “Forgive me?”

With a sigh, you nodded. “Of course,”

The instant you gave in, he beamed. “Splendid! Now, it’s a shame that we don’t have your dress, but I believe I have given you several gowns that would serve nicely,”

“You’re not gonna let me get married in my pajamas?”

“Would you prefer that to wearing a dress?”

The genuine concern in James’ voice was enough to make you fold. The things his voice did to you….

“Darling,” you groaned, fighting your weak muscles as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, “look in the closet. There should be a black zip-up garment bag in there,”

He quirked up an eyebrow.

“Just do it,”

“As my bride commands,” James rushed to the closet, thumbing through gowns. By the time he found it you were on your feet, leaning on a nearby wall for support. “This one, darling?” he asked, pulling it from the rack.

You grinned. “That’s the one. Open it up for me?”

James undid the zip quickly. Once he saw the contents, he gaped. “You know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the wedding,”

Slowly, you made your way to James and hugged him from behind. “Well, it’s a good thing the wedding is happening now... can you help me get the dress on?”

He happily obliged.

In less than 15 minutes you were laced into your wedding dress and sitting at your vanity. James was by the phonograph looking at records while you finished pinning up your hair. It was finally time.

“What would you like me to play, darling? We don’t have the wedding march, but there are some decent options. Let’s see… The Swan? You always have loved Saint-Saëns. Or perhaps Songe d’Automne?” James asked. He had been strangely lenient; bending to your will on the wedding, letting you pick the music, allowing you to tease him with no repercussions. You shrugged it off.

“You would really play the song that played as the Titanic sank at our wedding?”

“I find it strangely fitting,”

With a soft laugh, you put the last pin in place and turned to your groom. “And so it is. I’ll compromise. We have Mon Coeur S’Ouvre A Ta Voix, don’t we? You’ll get your morbidity while I get my romance,”

“That sounds delightful, my dear. Good choice,”

James found the correct record and set it on the phonograph, placing the needle and cranking the arm with a well-practiced hand. Then, as the music began to play, he stood. It was like he was devouring you with his eyes, drinking in every detail of you as he approached. He offered you his hands. “Shall we begin, my darling?”

You joined him in the center of the room without hesitation, taking his offering with a smile, “I think we shall,”

“I admit,” James said, voice sweet and low, “that I am well out of my depth here, but before we begin may I say that you, as you are now, are more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you?”

Your face flushed. “What’s gotten into you, James? Are you getting soft on me?”

“We can only hope not, I have a reputation to uphold you know! I just can’t help but think…” his sentence drifted off as his gaze fell on yours, “I am a hard man, one of custom and habit. My life has been filled with monotony for as long as I have lived. Even killing has become commonplace for me. Things do not phase me the same way they phase you, darling, in all of your softness and perfection. I wonder if this is what will truly make you happy,”

“James!” you dropped his hands in order to cup his face, “I love you. I want to be with you. What would make you think I’m unhappy here?”

He covered your small fingers with his own, voice wistful. “I love you too, Y/N. Don’t misunderstand me, this wedding brings me more joy than you know. I simply wish to say that you will only get married once and I want it to be exactly to your liking. I have been engaged thrice and married once before, all of the pomp and circumstance is old news to me. For you, though, in all your youth…”

In a rare moment of openness, James bared himself to you. It was only right for you to do the same.

“I have never been more sure of myself than in this moment,” you whispered, leaning to let your forehead rest against his, “You are enough. I don’t need guests, or flower arrangements, or a cake to know I love you and I want to spend the rest of eternity at your side. You’re right, I’m young and I’ve made a lot of dumb choices in my life, but loving you isn’t one of them. Take me, James, make me yours. This is where I belong”

As you spoke, you felt him relax against you.

“Well, you’ve certainly convinced me,” he murmured before pulling back and bringing your hands to his still, unbeating heart, “now, on with the show… my queen, the woman who has tamed my heart, you are the only one of your kind. No one else could move me the way you do. The moment I saw you walk into my hotel I knew that you would be mine, but I had no clue of the things you would do to my heart. You have changed me, mind, body, and soul. I can only hope that I’ve changed you in similar ways,”

While he was speaking, it suddenly hit you that this was it. Usually, brides had months of build-up to their weddings, filled with cake tastings and dress fittings and family and friends. You, though, had had only a few weeks to prepare, most of which were spent on strict bedrest while James took care of the planning. Even then, you had disregarded the plans. Tears of joy began to roll down your cheeks. Nothing had ever felt so right in your whole life.

“Oh darling, don’t cry,” he cooed, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m just so happy!”

“And you shall continue to be happy. As long as you remain by my side, you will want for nothing! I shall be with you in sickness and in health, through life and through death,” Suddenly, his voice lowered to almost a whisper. “You, Y/N, have captivated me. I wish to never be without you again,”

“You never will be,”

James smiled, squeezing your hands. In an instant, you realized it was your turn. You hadn’t given much thought as to what you would say, but as you gazed into his dark, hopeful, hungry eyes the words came to you as clear as day.

“James Patrick March,” you said, “I have never met anyone quite like you. When I first saw you, I had nothing. I was destitute. The Hotel Cortez was my last hope in life, but then, I spoke to you in the Blue Parrot Lounge and I suddenly knew exactly what my purpose in life was. Somehow, someway, I realized that I had been made to find you. You’ve given me so much, James. You showed me that life was worth living. I can’t think of a future for me that doesn’t include you. From this moment on, once I’m finally Mrs. March, we can finally be what we were made to be… one heart, one mind, one soul. I’ll never let you go. Marry me, James? Stay here with me until the world ceases to turn?”

“I will, darling. I do,” while he spoke, he reached into his pocket. “I had hoped that this ring would be sitting on your finger sooner. It belongs to the woman of the house, the holder of my heart… you, my dearest Mrs. March. Please say you love me, and that you’ll stay with me until nothing of this world remains?

You responded with a grin. “I love you, James… I do,”

Slowly, he slid the ring onto your finger. It was the first time you’d actually seen it up close, and it was more stunning than you remembered. A large, square-cut diamond sat on a bed of smaller rubies, and it was all held together by a delicate silver band that fit your finger perfectly. The red stones were a new addition. Had James had the ring altered just for you? You were about to ask when you caught his gaze.

“May I kiss the bride now, my darling?”

Instead of responding, you surged up and kissed him yourself. It was like none of the kisses you had ever shared before.

There was a passion to it, but it wasn’t desperate. It was more of a low, roiling thing, a time-bomb ticking down to explode. In seconds James’ cool hand had found its way into your hair, pulling you closer and messing up the pinned curls you had put in earlier. You found you didn’t quite care.

Your limbs were beginning to feel weak as you ran out of air, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of your long-forgotten illness or if it was just the power James held over you. Part of you didn’t care anymore. As you pulled back for air, your husband reached around to the lacing at the back of your dress and began to pull at it, earning a few giggles as he loosened it enough that it fell from your body, leaving you almost bare in front of him.

“How I’ve craved you, my lovely wife,” he growled, palming your breasts through your bra, “it’s been far too long,”

His touch felt electric against your thin, soft skin. “Please, Mr. March, more,” You pressed yourself against your husband, feeling how your words affected him. He was rock hard. Something about that satisfied an ache in your heart. Even with you sick and weak, he needed you as much as you needed him.

In a swift movement, he scooped you up and carried you to the bed, setting you down gently before settling himself between your legs. You whimpered as he sucked a deep bruise into your neck. He was an expert with his tongue, licking and sucking the skin like a man starved. It felt delightful, but you couldn’t help but think about how it would feel elsewhere.

As if he could read your mind, James grinned.

“All in good time, you little minx,”

Ever impatient, you fisted a hand into his hair in an attempt to get him to move lower. He stayed put.

“Does my lovely wife want something from me?”

You groaned as he wrapped his teeth around your bra strap and tugged before letting go, the elastic snapping against your already sweat-slick skin. “James, please,”

“Ah, ah, ah! Use your words, dearest. What do you want?”

His tutting made you flush from your cheeks to your chest. There was only one way to get what you wanted, and you knew exactly how to do it. With as much innocence as you could muster in your debauched state, you whispered, “Please sir, will you eat my pussy?”

James couldn’t hold back as he snapped his hips against the sheets. “That’s it darling! How could I say no to such a polite request?”

You released a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. In a blink, your husband was undoing your bra and pulling it off, working his sinful mouth down to your breasts. His teeth grazed your nipple, drawing a high-pitched whine from your throat as your back arched, pushing you up towards his touch. It was like your body was a live wire. Every nerve was alive, buzzing at the slightest touch. Still, it wasn’t enough.

Thankfully, he was quick to move once again. He left a trail of gentle, sloppy kisses down your ribs and stomach before arriving at his desired destination. His hot breath against your soaked panties fanned the flames of arousal building within you. Once again, you whined.

Your husband had always loved eating you out. He never seemed happier than when he was buried between your thighs with his tongue buried between your folds, and once again he was faced with his favorite activity. The hungry look in his eye told you that he wanted it as much as you did.

“It’s a shame I didn’t get to remove your garter in front of the hotel. I would have so enjoyed showing them all just how lucky of a man I am. Perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise though… I do hate to share” he murmured, pressing a few torturous kisses to the hot skin of your inner thighs as he skimmed your panties with his fingers, “I suppose these will have to do,” Then, in a sudden movement, he was dragging them down your legs by the lace with his teeth. Once they were removed, he tossed them aside to be collected later. The way he looked at your wetness was reverent. It only made you wetter.

“What do we have here,” he muttered, letting the tip of his nose just barely brush your core, “what could possibly be making you this wet, my darling?”

His taunting was, surprisingly, less severe than usual. On any normal day, it would have taken a good 10 minutes for him to be anywhere near your heat, but you could tell he was obliging your whims as a treat. It was a special occasion, after all.

“You,” you groaned lowly as his breath ghosted over your pussy.

“That’s right, my dear heart, me,”

In an instant James had buried himself in your lower lips, suckling your clit with vigor as your hips bucked to meet him. For once, he let you chase your pleasure with reckless abandon. It had been months since your last proper orgasm, so you were extra sensitive as he licked long stripes up your slit. Soon enough you were keening as you teetered on the edge of pleasure.

“James- James, please!” you shouted as he finally worked a finger into your tight, wet hole, his tongue lazily circling your clit as he gazed into your eyes across the planes of your body.

He pulled off momentarily, making you groan. “Please what, dearest?”

“I wanna cum! Please- OH!”

His lips were back on your clit instantly, his eyes smiling as he pumped in and out of you with his fingers and sucked with reckless abandon. Every muscle in your body felt poised for action, your hands gripping James’ hair at the roots with enough force that you were surprised it was still attached to his head. You tipped over the edge into pleasure the second he curled his fingers upwards, roughly pressing into your sweet spot as he hummed, his voice vibrating against you in the most heavenly way.

Your orgasm was like a wave of pure bliss rolling over you as James pleasured you through it, milking you for everything you had. Only once you stopped convulsing did he remove his mouth. Even then, he continued to fuck you gently with his fingers. “Did that feel good, my love?” he asked, rubbing circles into your still-shaking thigh with his free hand.

“Yes, James! Your mouth is perfect,” you whimpered.

He seemed to enjoy your answer because he slowly pulled his fingers from your sensitive pussy before climbing up your body and rewarding you with a passionate kiss. You enjoyed it thoroughly but suddenly became aware that he was still fully dressed. “James,” you whined against his lips, “you’re wearing far too many clothes,”

He tasted like tobacco and absinthe as he kissed you again, guiding your hands to the buttons on his suit jacket before tugging at his cravat. “Perhaps we should remedy that, darling?”

You were quick to undo each button before ripping the jacket from his body and tossing it on the ground. His dress shirt and cravat were quick to follow. He focused on undoing his pants while you relished in his bare chest, running your hands down the firm planes of flesh. “God, you’re gorgeous,” you whispered, biting down gently on his collarbone.

“No need to call me God, dearest,” he chuckled, shoving down his pants and boxers to free his leaking cock, “though I don’t oppose to it,”

He was a big man, long and thick enough that fitting all of him in was just slightly painful but more than enough to make you feel deliciously full. You drooled as you reached between your torsos to stroke him, but surprisingly James caught your wrist before you could touch him.

“I appreciate you taking my pleasure into consideration, my love, but I won’t last long as it is,” he crooned, holding your wrist to the bed with one hand as he lined himself up against your dripping heat with the other. He ran the head of his cock against your folds a few times, gathering up your wetness in the hopes that it would ease the stretch when he finally pushed in. To you, though, it was just torture, and how James did love to torture his victims.

“Please, fuck me, Mr. March,” you groaned, “I need you! It’s been so long,”

“Such a good little minx,” his voice rolled low as he smiled down at you, “using your words just like I taught you. Perhaps you deserve a reward,” Then, as he locked his hungry eyes with yours, he pushed fully into your heat.

You cried out in ecstasy the second he filled you up, your head lolling back against the headboard as he rocked in and out, letting you ride out the initial pain as he warmed you up for the main event. It wasn’t long before the sting was gone. It was replaced with a dull ache, but that was mostly overshadowed by a sweet, building fire spreading through your abdomen again as James pounded into you with reckless abandon.

Every muscle in your body felt weak, loose and slack as your husband found that spot inside you. Each thrust was a shock through your overstimulated body. It was like you were toeing the line between pain and pleasure, always an instant from falling fully into one or the other. When James picked up his speed once again, you started to lose yourself to the pleasure.

“Mr. March!” you wailed, body jolting as he released your wrist and instead used his hand to steady your thigh and hold you wide open, “ Mr. March! Oh god, please let me cum!”

Surprisingly, despite the fact that he was dead, James seemed almost as breathless as you while he purred into your ear. “Close your eyes, Y/N. Let the pleasure take you. Cum for me, Mrs. March,”

With one last sharp stroke from James, you wailed and let your orgasm overtake you. This time, though, it wasn’t a wave. Instead, it hit you directly like a ton of bricks. The feeling was heady, a high derived from the shockwaves of pleasure mixing with the sweet pain James always provided when he lost control. Distantly, you could feel your thighs covered in your wet essence as your husband gripped them and drove himself into you ceaselessly, quickly reaching his own climax.

Maybe it was that you hadn’t been satisfied so thoroughly since before you were sick, but you felt absolutely exhausted as the last remains of your release drained from your body. Perhaps you had gone too far with the enthusiasm after being on bed rest for so long… Something deep inside you felt whole, like a piece of you that had been missing all your life had finally slotted into place. You fell into a dreamless sleep as that satisfaction resonated through your thoroughly fucked-out body.

When you woke, you almost felt disconnected from time. It was like waking up from an unexpected nap that went on longer than you had intended it to. Your eyelids felt heavy, but the familiar ache in your lungs and muscles that had been your constant companion was gone, replaced with a cool, tingling numbness. You chuckled a bit to yourself. Had sex been the answer to your problems all along?

Slowly, you rolled onto your side, stretching out your arms and legs before curling up in the sheets. Five more minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt anybody.

Unfortunately, your plans for rest were foiled as you felt the bed dip beside you.

“How do you feel, my darling?” James asked. His voice was soft. If you didn’t know him better you would have thought he sounded frightened.

You smiled, letting your eyes flutter open as you took in his face. “Surprisingly, I feel great. I don’t think I’ve felt this good for a long time,”

James smiled back at you, his brown eyes glimmering with some distant emotion. “That’s good. I’m glad you’re starting the road to recovery,”

There was something strange about your husband, you noticed as you sat up, looking around. You definitely weren’t in your own bedroom anymore. Instead, you were tucked nicely into a four-poster bed with soft, red sheets, surrounded by dark wood and art deco accents. Distantly, you touched your chest and registered that you were wearing one of James’ shirts.

“You brought me to your room?” You propped yourself up on his headboard as you took in your new surroundings, watching the golden evening sun filter in through the gap in the heavy velvet curtains.

“Our room, my sweetling,” James corrected.

You hummed thoughtfully. “I like it. I know I’ve technically been here, with Devil’s Night and our little trysts and all, but I’ve never slept in your bed before. It’s soft… nice,”

He offered you a tinny false smile, his hands fidgeting nervously with the edge of the bedspread. “I’m glad you think so, dearest. What’s mine is now yours,”

Distantly, you smelled the faintest traces of the antiseptic soap James used to rid himself of blood. You raised an eyebrow. “How long was I out?”

“Just a few hours. I took the liberty of calling Mrs. Evers to turn down your sheets while you rested,”

“You had time for a kill in just a few hours?”

“Y/N, I-”

As he spoke, you reached out to touch his fidgeting hand only to yank your fingers back to your chest. No… this was wrong.

“Y/N, please, stay calm-”

“Why are you warm?” You asked, breathing heavily, “James? Why are you warm?”

James steadied himself with a deep breath before reaching over to rub gentle circles into your thigh above the blanket.

“I… I may have taken the liberties of… Y/N, please understand that I only did what I must. You were wasting away! And a promise is a promise…. What I’m trying to say is-”

“You killed me?”

“Precisely,”

Your husband bit down on his lip, averting his gaze in the hopes of avoiding your wrath. To his surprise, though, you threw yourself into his arms, peppering his face with kisses as you laughed joyously. You were free! Free from pain and sorrow and th e endless trappings of mortality. And James was the one to free you.

“You brilliant man!” you shouted, excited giggles escaping from your lips as you squeezed his frozen body to your own, “I didn’t even notice! Oh my god, and on our wedding night too? That’s so romantic! How did you do it? Did I have a heart attack and die from the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my whole damn life? Well… existence. I’m not quite alive anymore, am I? What did you use? Did you send me down the body chute?”

As you babbled, James slowly began to function again. You truly were his perfect match. “I slit your femoral artery just as all your muscles began to contract,” he explained, reaching up a hand to cup your cheek, “and I came to my own climax as you showered me in your blood. You didn’t feel a thing,”

You happily settled yourself against James’ chest. “You’re right. If anything, it felt kinda good…” you paused, “What about my body?”

He grinned. “You’re dead now, darling, we can revisit killing you during your little deaths at any time you like. As for your body, I didn’t put you down the chute. I cleaned you up, retrieved your ring, and took you to your casket. It’ll be bricked up in a wall within the week,”

“Aw, James, you had a casket ready for me and everything!”

“I commissioned it the day we first met. After we slept together and I led you to your suite, I went right to Liz and had her make an order. I spared no expense. Dark wood, red velvet lining…”

“Mmm,” you hummed, “It’s a shame we’ll never get to christen it… unless…”

“Darling, you cannot truly be thinking what I presume you are thinking,”

You giggled, pushing James flat onto the bed. Slowly, you leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Wanna go fuck over my dead body?”

James Patrick March had never gotten hard quicker in all his 126 years of existence.

-------

a/n: Welp! That’s the first smut I have ever written in my entire life. I hope it wasn’t terrible! This oneshot was great practice for a future instillation of Till Forever Falls Apart, so look forward to that lol. Let me know if you liked this and what types of oneshots you’d like to see next! Also, I love comments, so feel free to comment if you feel so inclined.

Please do not upload my works to other sites, thank you!

[ohmy7hearts]

spring gale

Summary: Spring means new beginnings but a gale (a storm more like?) in the name of Shinazugawa Sanemi blows your plans out and throw your once peaceful life into the winds.

Pairings: Shinazugawa Sanemi x Fem!Reader // future Shinazugawa Genya x SisterFigure!Reader 

A/N: this,,, is v impromptu. i literally got out of my bed bc it has been bugging me with how little sanemi fanfics there are, esp modern aus. tbh, there have been plenty of fics brewing in my mind and tell me if there’s any you’d be interested in and maybe i will return from my hiatus hah:

 - zhongli modern au: adepti babies being your adopted children and navigating parenthood 

- unknown pairing as of now but travelers being your kids so transporting yourself into the world to find them after 500+ years of not returning home 

- etc involving atsumu, diluc, childe but if you have any requests, feel free to drop it in and maybe i’ll consider them

Warnings: Some cursing (I mean it’s Sanemi lolol)

“Shinazugawa-san?” Sanemi glanced up, his hands continued packing away his things into the bag, an eyebrow raised. You smiled, hands folded over the other in front of you, as you continued to speak after gaining his attention. “When would you be free to do the project?”

He sighed, throwing his bag over his shoulder, while making his way out of the classroom - tone and body language showing his disinterest in the conversation. “We can just do it in class.”

You jogged to get into step next to him, “Well, it is for the bare minimum. I’m sure we can do much better than that.” You observed his side profile to see if any emotion could give way to what he was thinking. You frowned, frustration creeping up on you, “I understand that we’re not each other’s first choice in partners but that’s not an excuse to not do our best.”

“Are grades and studying the only thing in that airhead of yours?” His eyes flit towards yours for a moment before returning its gaze forward. “I don’t fucking have as much free time as you.”

You stopped following him. A bolt of anger and disbelief had your mouth dropping and hands curling into shaking fists. You scoffed, voice raising with each word, “I believe you need this more than me, Shinazugawa-san. Unless you want to continue being a pain in everyone’s ass and eventually not even graduate, then be my guest.” 

He swiveled towards you. You flinched reactively. He faltered, face momentarily flitting from anger to surprise back to annoyance the moment his eyes scanned you. One step, two steps. He was in your space, breathing in and out to you, with his  strikingly cold eyes and thin eyebrows furrowed. “Say that again, I dare you.”

You closed your eyes before releasing a deep sigh, muscles easing from the hold of your anger. “We don’t have to do it after school or on the weekends if you are that occupied. We can do it before school or during our breaks and even before our clubs start.” You grabbed one of his wrist, turning his palm upwards, shoving the crumpled paper with your number into it while fixating your glare on him throughout. You refuse to back down but you will be the bigger person. Forcing his hand to a close, you narrowed your eyes for good measure while trying to control the smirk from overtaking your face when his frown further deepened in distaste. Taking a step back, your hands returned to the usual folded stance, you forced an amicable smile to replace the smirk - although you have a feeling that he could still see the smirk from how his eye twitched, “Of course, it’s really up to you, Shinazugawa-san.”

Turning on your heel, you headed back to the classroom with your head held high and a full-blown smirk on your face while your peers watched with stolen glances and whispers behind hands or under breaths. The clicking of his tongue echoed in the corridor and in your head all the way back to the classroom. 

“Ara, ara, should you really do that (Y/N)-chan?” Shinobu greeted you by your desk, eyes filled with mirth from the free entertainment.

You laughed airily, eyes not meeting hers but focused on clearing the messy table, “I wouldn’t have to if he wasn’t that difficult.” 

“Not many survive Sanemi you know?” Shinobu followed you to the student council room. “One must use their life's worth of luck to crawl out from his bad side.” 

A bark of a laugh escaped you from her exaggeration. “Shinobu-chan ~ I thought you wanted to get into medicine and not theatrics?”

Her eyes met yours, a smirk tugging on her lips, eyes shifting precariously into ones when she knew something the other party doesn’t and in this case that was you. A shiver ran down your spine. You’ve been in the spot only a few times but still a few too many with most of them ending up jerking your view of the world down a path you’ve never considered. You gulped, hands itching and playing with themselves. 

“Did you not hear about how he got into a fight with some university boys down at the park?” She leaped into your space, voice dropping into a whisper in your ear yet head tilted to ensure a front seat view to your reaction. “He came out with a couple of scratches and bruises but…” Her small hands encircled your upper arm. Your eyes dropping to them before returning to her face - surprised to witness your shock colouring your face white as it was reflected in those big eyes of hers. “The boys said to be much bigger than he is, had to go to the hospital.” Her smile bordering on unhinged glee, she drawled, “They were so scared they didn’t sue him.”

She immediately returned to her spot beside you, a foot away, while her shoulders and arms lifted in a form of a shrug nonchalantly. “Apparently, when questioned, the boys said something about them being the ones out of line and they have worked things out.” 

Being close friends with Shinobu and Mitsuri meant that you were privy to the latest gossip and news but you always took it with a grain of salt seeing firsthand how some things were purposefully voided or added for the enjoyment of teenagers. You smiled unsurely, “that’s just a rumour Shinobu-chan.”

She pouted, invisible to those who didn't know her well enough or who weren’t keen enough, “You can ask Akio. He was a witness.”

Your eyes widened before blinking in incredulity. “What.”

She giggled, hand raising in a wave before dashing down the corridor. “Do share with me if he tells you more!” 

It took you a few seconds to regain your bearings, even a shake of your head to rid the mental image of Sanemi punching away on people bigger than him for his amusement. He was by no means a small person shown clearly with the muscles seen even through the school uniform - a testament to his achievements as one of the greatest fighters in the taekwondo club despite his lacklustre participation of actually attending said club practices - but there were certainly bigger and taller people in your school, much less university. 

“Hashimoto-san!” You snapped out of your musings.

“Tanaka-san.” You greeted back. The black haired guy chuckled, “I told you to call me by my first name. After all, we’ve been working together for 3 years. Unless, you don’t see me as a friend? Damn, it must hurt to only be seen as a student council partner even after winning the presidential election together.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” You huffed, plopping down into the chair and hands gravitating towards the papers on the table before being stopped by a hand on your wrist. Raising an eyebrow, he returned the gesture indicating there’s something he was expecting you to tell him. He released the grasp on your hand the moment you were falling back onto the back support of the chair with a sigh. “How may I help you Akio?”

“On the way here, I heard an interesting piece of news.” He sat sideways on the table, the leg on the table folded over the leg still standing. You folded your arms over your chest and hummed. “You and Shinazugawa were fighting?”

“It was just a talk that got a bit heated. I was trying to get a hold on him so we can do our project for literature together.” 

Akio’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared under his bangs. “Wow, what luck. First, he somehow got into your class through that stupid maths shit and now you have to deal with him.” He smiled in assurance, eyes crinkling close and  a hand over his heart. “Be careful but if anything happens, I’m here. I’ll come running to save my beloved president.”

You mouthed a wow. Silence blanketed the both of you as you nod in understanding - lips trying to contain the smiles and laughs - as he continued to express his devotion through his hand gestures - hand flying to point at you before returning to over his chest, patting it, then forming into a prayer of sorts - all the while mouthing his loyalty to you. 

With a shake of your head and hands indicating him to leave as you pulled yourself closer to your table, “Thanks but I doubt I need it.”

Instead, he tilted his head backwards and narrowed his eyes on the ceiling. “If you see what I saw, I wouldn’t put too much faith in him.”

Blood freezes over while questions overwhelm your mind. You gulped and licked your lips to get rid of the sudden dryness, “And what exactly are they?”

“He didn’t stop beating them up or screaming at them even when they were down. Three policemen had to pry him off and restrain him.”

Your heart dropped.

[chalky]

The Commodification of c!Tubbo

This essay is unnecessary but I think about it too much so here you go

At this point, y’all are probably sick and tired of me rambling about c!Tubbo, as this is about all my original posts are. But, I feel as though this is an important aspect of his character that is either swept under the rug or never given any second glance.

Whether intentionally or not, Tubbo has been constantly commodified by allies and enemies alike (don’t even get me started on the fandom, that’s for a whole other post). Like, throughout the entire story of the Dream SMP, Tubbo has been looked down upon as a yes man, sidekick, or extension of another character who is incapable of making decisions for himself, which is such a degrading thing to experience for so long and explains why his character values himself so little.

This is a long one, heads up!

 I want to break up this dehumanization and commodification into three categories:

Tubbo is either a pawn (something to be used), a trophy(something to be owned), or a scapegoat(something to be blamed) to others.

Tubbo Seen as a Pawn:

Wilbur loved Tubbo, but his treatment of him during the Pogtopia arc was definitely sad to see. (Note: Wilbur was spiraling and his mental health was in shambles. He couldn’t help his paranoia and he deserved way better than the ending he got, but that doesn’t absolve the effects of his actions on others). First he took Tubbo on as a spy, a very dangerous role that landed him dead, but throughout Tubbo’s service Wilbur saw him as an obedient pawn, while not a loyal one. A pawn ready to turn to whatever authority figure commanded him best. His remarks about Tubbo being a yes man back this up, and the way he warns Tommy that Tubbo will betray them erases all of Tubbo’s identity and reduces it to that of a spy (again, this is born of Wilburs paranoia, this isn’t his fault).

Dream made it very clear that he regarded Tubbo as lesser than a toy, so obedient and trusting that he wasn’t worth keeping alive because he was so boring to him. The whole speech about Tubbo being worthless wasn’t even directed at him despite him being right there. Dream only addressed Tommy as if he was the one whose opinion on Tubbos fate mattered.

Jack Manifold literally used Tubbo’s trust to attempt to kill Tommy, saying that he was a sweet guy but way too gullible. No better way to treat someone as a pawn to further ones own agenda than by literally using them. (Him talking about how he’d be there to comfort Tubbo after the assisted murder of his best friend still mildly disturbs me).

Quackity managed to talk Tubbo into going through with the Butcher Army, using Tubbo’s power to further Quackity’s agenda (which, by Quackity’s own admission, did not revolve around the protection of L’manburg.) Quackity didn’t care that Tubbo was against violence, and pushed his concerns to the side in favor of his own ideas and kept comparing Tubbo to Schlatt whenever he acted in a way he disagreed with.

Speaking of, THE CONSTANT DISREGARD OF HIS DECISIONS AS PRESIDENT. His Cabinet never listened to him and lowkey every stream they had together was a bit frustrating to me (I’m also a sensitive bitch). They didn’t respect him in any way and undermined his authority UNTIL THEY NEEDED HIM TO SAVE EVERYONE’S LIFE. (Elaborated on in Scapegoat Category).

Technically, as much as I am a Tommy apologist, Tommy’s constant insistence that the Disc War needed to involve Tubbo kind of fits under this category. As much as Tubbo was happy to help, his involvement wasn’t really necessary, but Tommy needed someone to help him. This involvement nearly resulted in his willing death.

The only reason Dream even wanted to kill Tubbo, on top of perceiving him as useless, was to hurt Tommy and give him something of a “hero origin story” like Batman and his parents or Spider-Man and Uncle Ben. So, literally by Dream’s definition, he wanted to fridge Tubbo.

We could refer to Wilbur assigning Tubbo to presidency as Wilbur using him to make the explosion of L’manburg hurt more, but that feels like a stretch to me.

This may be a stretch, but after Tubbo is executed and Tommy starts getting mad at Technoblade, Wilbur eggs Tommy on by saying “Think of what he did to Tubbo,” while Tubbo is literally right there. His emotions on the event doesn’t matter to Wilbur, only how it impacted Tommy.

Tubbo Seen as a Prize/Trophy

The constant referral of Tubbo as something to be owned by someone, like during Wilburs speech of “he’s your Tubbo!”, is a bit off putting though I don’t think it’s meant to be malicious. Very rarely is the sentiment reversed, seen when Ghostbur gave Tubbo the Your Tommy compass, furthering the idea that Tubbo is an object, something to be sought after and secured with little opportunity for him to own something himself. It’s always “Tommy’s Tubbo”. Also when Schlatt gloated about having “his very own Tubbo”.

Tommy shows more possessive behaviors when dealing with the discovery of Ranboo and Tubbo’s marriage, asking about permission and insisting that Ranboo stole Tubbo from him. I’m sure this is subconscious, I know Tommy values Tubbo as a person but he still reduces Tubbo to an object to guard because he treasures his friend.

Another more vague example would be the fact that Schlatt exiled Wilbur and Tommy, but kept Tubbo as his right hand man even though it was clear he was on POG2020’s side. It was a way to insult Tommy, a way for Schlatt to add salt to the wound by keeping his best friend.

The Dream Team captured Tubbo very early into the Revolution, keeping him in a hole and holding him for ransom (this could be played off for laughs, I just remembered it). They also burned down his base, unrelated really but I remember it.

We could also count the way that Dream kept threatening to kill Tubbo if Tommy didn’t return the disc, but this feels like a mixture of pawn and prize, while still dehumanizing as it compares his value to that of music discs.

Yes, I am going to take c!Tommy joking about killing Michael to get Tubbo and Ranboo to break up so he can get Tubbo back seriously. The way he glared at Michael while holding an axe was just for the stream to see, if it was a joke I feel like he would have said it out loud. Even if it is a joke, laughing about taking something Tubbo loves away just to ruin his relationships is a bit yikes and frames Tubbo as something to be won back. You can ignore this if you didn’t see that moment as canon, but there are plenty of signs pointing to this being in character. (Also to be noted, Tubbo didn’t want to show Michael to Tommy, so Tommy ignored him and asked Ranboo instead, who immediately showed Tommy to Michael despite Tubbo’s clear worries)

Tubbo seen as a Scapegoat

His cabinet flip flopped back and forth on the decision to exile Tommy every five seconds. Whenever they spoke with Tubbo, they were all “You’re right! We’re going to listen to you! We have to do what’s right!” and then they hear a half baked plan and completely switch up on what they already agreed to do. (This happened twice. One at the sit down meeting where Tommy revealed Spirit and the cabinet joined Tommy in his mocking, only to blame him for how the meeting ended. Twice at the exile). So when Tubbo had to follow the original plan to, you know, make sure their country wasn’t put under lock and key until every citizen was eventually killed, his cabinet acted so shocked and betrayed and he was Schlatt and a dictator. It’s very true that he went against their plan (THAT THEY MADE FIVE MINUTES BEFOREHAND AFTER HAVING ALREADY AGREED TO THE FIRST PLAN FOR DAYS), but the way they treated him afterwards, as if he was a vile person for keeping his country safe, heavily impacted Tubbo’s mental state for a long time after. What I’m saying is Tubbo was set up to be the villain in that scenario, accidentally by his allies, and purposefully by Dream.

Tubbo was blamed for the destruction of L’manburg by Dream and a few others (also himself)

TUBBO IS CONSTANTLY BLAMED FOR THE BUTCHER ARMY ARC DESPITE IT BEING COMPLETELY THOUGHT OF AND LEAD BY QUACKITY (This is predominately fandom based).

The full blame for Tommy’s exile has rested on Tubbo (I will never forget Tommy calling him a monster), despite the fact he was manipulated and backed into a corner by Dream. Even when everyone has come to understand that Tommy was manipulated by Dream, the same doesn’t go for Tubbo and he’s hit with “imagine exiling your best friend” jokes many times.

Wilbur puts the decision of blowing people up at the festival on Tubbo’s shoulders, absolving him of the blame.

Schlatt made Tubbo tear down the L’manburg walls and the important signs so he could have to deal with the blame (though Quackity took the fall for this).

This is more theory based, but I fully believe Wilbur made Tubbo president right in front of Techno to egg him on to attack L’manburg. Since Tubbo would be the president, he would take the full brunt of Techno’s wrath (and he and Tommy did), and the destruction fell onto him.

So! With my text evidence we can see a recurring pattern in the way that Tubbo has been used by many people over the history of the server without much regard for his feelings. There are very few times when people besides Tommy ask how Tubbo feels about a situation, leaving him to his dark thoughts without anybody caring. Even during the Final Disc War, when Tubbo was literally moments from death, nobody asks how he is. Nobody (except Quackity once) checks up on him, and he builds up his community by himself. Until Ranboo came along, and I am not overexaggerating this, nobody was with Tubbo to support him. He had no support system and nobody cared. They just assume that he is always fine and if he wasn’t, it isn’t their place to intervene. Tubbo is just not respected, feared, or acknowledged unless he has someone by his side, or unless he’s doing something bad in which case he’s unhinged and evil and sure to have a villain arc.

This is just something to find interesting:

The only few characters Tubbo is actively involved with that hasn’t looked down on him as a sidekick or an object has been Foolish, Puffy, Ranboo and Technoblade. You could make an argument of how Technoblade referring to him as “government” could be dehumanizing but I don’t think I’ve actually seen him do that in character? I could be wrong though. Really, Technoblade takes him seriously, but way more seriously than c!Tubbo warrants. Like, he’s looking for a tyrant to beat up and Tubbo is literally just a guy with a lot of issues struggling to keep a handle on his cabinet, which I find funny. But, jokes aside, Technoblade saw Tubbo as a legitimate threat during his presidency and is respectfully cautious of him and his nukes presently, which is surprising to me. Ranboo adores Tubbo and all of his chaos that people are unaware of because they don’t get to know him well enough. Puffy just wants the best for all the kids of the server and knows how to be respectful of their feelings, and Foolish is respectful of Tubbo, if a bit annoyed and intimidated by him.

The point of this essay is just to show that there is a pattern to these things. This is how Tubbo is treated, this is why Tubbo is prepared to die for whatever because because he doesn’t feel he’s worth anything while alive, and this is why it’s frustrating to see characters call him a follower, pawn, or yes man. And here’s the thing: I DONT KNOW WHY THEY TREAT HIM LIKE THIS??? Why him? I can’t really find out why this started to happen.

To sum some things up, no I don’t think every character who treats him poorly is completely evil. Again, some of this seems to be subconscious, some of this could be argued to be OOC, I just wanted to bring this pattern to light.

[silverostro]

afternoon before tribute interviews, two’s suite ( @hcrdcreeks​. )

It’s a familiar feeling, one that they hate to be sitting in again, the sort of near overwhelming sensation of it all being a bit hopeless. Any confidence they had had that the Capitol was bluffing after their own interview had been nearly obliterated after the three back to back confirmations that the Capitol has been taking note of every little thing. The ever-present fear of that, and having confirmation of it are two different things, especially considering the conversation they had shared with Griffin at the tea party. But they are determined to fight, even if it feels as if all the odds are against them now. There sort of vague unhinged feeling that had settled on their mind during their interviews was still there, only now clouded by static and distortion, phantom shocks of electricity running through them, making it something entirely its own.

Thankfully, there are plenty of distractions, a logical set of things and people they need to check on, very, very carefully before the Games begin. They seem to be in silent agreement with Griffin that they can’t risk being seen with one another, but they want to make sure their other allies haven’t fallen too far into the Capitol’s trap, even if that might be ignoring their own panic a bit, not knowing how the hell they can help, really, if their plans are compromised, besides making certain Zero is prepared if the Games don’t go as they hope.

A large concern is Slate. With everything that’s happened, the way the Capitol has tried to break him, the way it nearly worked, and the turn around, with the knowledge that they have different things to offer now, Silver thinks they have a good understanding of what he’s attempting, but they want to be certain. And so they head down to Two at the first moment they can to find the man. An Avox lets them in, but they step in tentatively, not certain of the sort of welcome they’ll receive. 

“Slate, it’s Silver. I wanted to see how you are...after last night.”

[1-800-imagine]

study dates with the baby crows

karasuno first years (separate) x reader

✎ inside scoop (1/2): hello and sorry, this is a repost because of tumblr struggles and stuff 😅 anyways, happy reading!! i hope you enjoy!!

HINATA SHOYO:

the thing about hinata and kageyama for that matter is that he isn’t truly dumb

his mind is just heavily situated with other priorities, mainly volleyball

on that note, hinata will try and speed through his work in order to go do more fun things

and this tactic definitely does not really fair well for him

“done!!” hinata exclaims, showing you his completed paper with pride. how did he complete this assignment in record speed? you think. it’s not that you ever doubted hinata’s academic capabilities, it’s just that he wasn’t really one to take his time completing work -- always rushing through it all to do the “fun” stuff.

you took his paper from his hands and examine it. “now let’s go play some volleyball, or something,” he suggests giddily, propping himself up so he could get a headstart to the backyard. “hinata,” your voice sounding concerned, “you got a bunch of these wrong.” the boy stops in his tracks, one foot already out the door. “you’re going to have to redo most, if not all of them,” you warn, watching as a look of struggle pains the tangerine’s face. “as your tutor, and your s/o, i cannot let you fail another assignment, shoyo.” you reason.

“fine,” he pouts, sitting back down, “only for you (y/n).” as he gets to scribbling, you notice how hinata’s expression grows sulky, like when a dog droops its ears down or hides its tail between its legs. “you know what,” you mutter, “we can probably split this up -- do half now, go take a break, then do the other half later.”

“really?” hinata chirps, his hair resembling that of the ears of a perky puppy. “yes, rea-” you try and answer but get cut off immediately by the boy crawling over the table. “you’re the best study buddy, (y/n)!!” he shouts before pummeling you both to the floor.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO:

kageyama isn’t necessarily stupid either, he’s just more focused on volleyball like hinata

he’s probably the type to get a little frustrated when things don’t tend to work well for him

in a similar way to when things aren’t working well in volleyball

i feel like putting things in terms he already knows may help him better his understandings

kageyama groans as he pushes himself up and away from his desk. you look up, across the table to see the mix of frustration and confusion that paints his face. “what’s the matter, tobio?” you question innocently. “i just don’t get it!” he snaps, the anger so strong in his voice. you’re stunned, and kageyama takes notice of it immediately.

“it’s just that,” he confesses in a much softer tone than before, “no matter how hard i try, i just can’t get the hang of this.” you grab onto kageyama’s hand, which is balled up in a fist out of his frustration. “it’s okay tobio.” your voice is delicate, as you try to confide in him. “i wish this was as easy as volleyball.” kageyama grunts.

that’s when it hits you, like a little light bulb forming over your head. “well,” you begin, your thoughts muddling around in your brain. kageyama looks up at you, confused as you take his paper from him. “if the total of three volleyballs is 55 dollars, and the cost of a mikasa ball is five more than a tachikara ball, which is twice as much as a molten ball. then how much is the mikasa ball?”

you watch as kageyama to scribbles down the numbers. “15 dollars,” he answers, in a notable speed. you’re so proud of kageyama, giving him your praise with haste, “see, you can do it tobio!!”

TSUKISHIMA KEI:

tsukki loves you through and through, else he wouldn’t have agreed to help you study/study with you

but that doesn’t mean the he’s going to stop with all the saltiness. no no.

it’ll certainly lessen, but i feel like there’s not a possible way to escape it

like yeah, he can be totally soft for you; however, that being said, don’t be surprised if some sort of snarky remark is thrown your direction

in a moment of confused concentration, you begin to chew on the pen in your hand -- an action which is taken notice by tsukishima almost immediately. “(y/n),” he sighs, “do you need something? if you bite that pen any harder, i think it might explode.” you look up in a surprised daze, like a little deer caught in headlights. “i-uh no, i mean yes. actually, maybe?” your jumpy response earns a quirk of the eyebrow from the blond boy. “fine,” you speak up, “but don’t make fun of me, okay.”

“if you’re so worried about me making a joke of you -- i’m not.” tsukishima guarantees. your face morphs from a state of confusion into a look of doubt. this had certainly been a side of tsukki that you’ve never seen before. “i wouldn’t have agreed to help you, if i didn’t love you.”

you’re taken by full surprise, considering that the cold tsukishima kei just confessed that he loves you. of course you and he had been dating for at least a couple of months now, but you would have never expected him to tell you he loved you anytime soon.

“y-you, tsukishima kei, you love me?” your eyes widen, and your jaw unhinges. that’s when reality sets into for tsukishima. did he just? he did. “i didn’t mean it like that.” he refutes, even though his ears are already shaded with a rosy tint. “no, i know what you meant -- you love me!!” you holler, earning you a loud shushing from the librarian. “you love me!!” you reiterate in a soft whisper. “ok fine. i love you,” he confirms mockingly, “now what was it you needed my help with?”

YAMAGUCHI TADASHI:

the boy is a nervous WRECK

he just wants to do the best of his ability to help you, but at the same time he does tend to doubt himself

one that note, things may end up in you helping him more than the other way around

but i’m sure he’ll be super proud of you when you start to get the hang of things

the sigh of surrender escapes your lips, breaking the comfortable silence that filled the room. you pull your face away from your textbook to look at one green-haired boy sitting beside you. “i don’t think i can do this,” you resign, “it’s a lost cause.” you begin to pack away things.

seeing you in this defeated state begins to make yamaguchi nervous. was he not a good enough tutor for you? are you just going to go and ask someone else? “what’re you doing?” he asks, the nerves making his voice a little shaky. “i think i’m going to go home,” you answer, “none of it is your fault, tadashi. i’m just not getting the hang of it.”

you continue to pack up belongings when a hand delicately grabs your wrist, making you come to a halt. “no.” the freckled boy says, his voice stern -- contrasting the usual, softer tone of it. “(y/n),” he adds, “you need to stop discrediting yourself.” having never seen this more assertive side to yamaguchi, you’re quite surprised. “tada-” you exhale.

“maybe you just need a little extra practice,” he propose, “but there’s no need to give up.”  yamaguchi’s interjection cut you off from your thoughts. “tadashi i-” you stammer. “it’s okay,” he assures you, “even if you don’t believe in yourself. i will!”

YACHI HITOKA:

prepared. very prepared.

she probably has almost about everything the two of you need to succeed -- and when i say everything i mean everything

from all sorts of stationary to study snacks, yachi’s got it all

similar to yamaguchi, she just wants to do everything in her power to help you succeed

a peculiar noise escapes your lips, followed by the light tap of your head hitting the table in resignation -- yachi’s quaint set up of pretty stationary and notebooks jumping to the corners of the desk. “i. can’t. do. this. anymore.” you admit, growing increasingly louder with each word. fortunately, your screams are muffled by the wooden surface. “do you need another break, (y/n)?” yachi proposes.

“there are plenty of snacks left,” the sweet girl adds, “and we can always go get other treats if you don’t like these ones.” you turn to rest your cheek on the surface of the table, staring up at this angel sent from the gods.

“no, no it’s alright ‘toka,” you decline, “the snacks are perfect, this whole thing is perfect.” you lift yourself up and begin trying to put everything back in its place neatly. picking up one of the organized notebooks, you sit back into the chair. your expression and posture grow sullen, which is something easily noticed by the blonde girl. yachi’s overactive imagination begins to take her to the worst-case scenarios.

“d-did this not work for you, (y/n)?” she mutters, her voice riddled with worry. negative thoughts begin to cloud her mind. “of course not, ‘toka,” you answer, “even if we were sitting in the library, with those cranky librarians, i’d still have the best time -- because i’d be with the best girlfriend!!” the flash of your bright smile makes yachi lose her train of thought. “i-uh, n-no you,” she utters, earning her an innocent giggle from your direction.

✎ inside scoop (2/2): hey hey hey!! first off, if you managed to get through all of that, i really appreciate you. thank you for reading, and i hope you liked it!!

the next thing i wanted to say is that i feel like i haven’t really been myself lately, and i’m really (x10) sorry about that. school work had me stressed out quite a bit, and then i got caught up with other things as well. so in the little time that i did provide myself for anything other than working, which was usually very late at night, i didn’t have much motivation left in me per say.

aside from all my lame excuses that, i hope everyone else is doing well. make sure to take care of yourself, and my request/talk box is always open if anyone wants to talk or send something in 💖💕

[slasherscream]

A/N: shout-out to that one anon on bloodybrahms’ blog forever ago where they were like ginger fitzgerald x jennifer check x jd x reader. their mind?? i haven’t known peace since seeing the concept. 

coincidentally, you as well, will never know a moment of peace again. 

your relationship is overflowing with chaos. you can’t let your guard down for even a second because that’s the exact moment one of your partners will choose to strike and do some absolute bullshit™. it is imperative that you never take your eyes off them or leave any of them on their own. 

if you cannot stay with them at all times at least take care to make sure you never leave all three of them alone together. nothing good has ever come from you doing this.

you act as the impulse control for all three of your partners. they straight up don’t know how to act without you around. 

let’s talk about the chaotic dynamics and features of this relationship, shall we-

○ ginger and jennifer ....where to start. they dislike each other so much, both on the fundamental levels of their personalities and also as supernatural entities. werewolves and demons aren’t like…. natural enemies or anything but they can be Genuine Threats™ to one another so their hackles are always a little raised around each other.

○ that aside, jennifer is the exact type of girl ginger hated in high-school. she took one glance at jennifer and said "what a fucking vapid wanna-be barbie looking slut" and she hasn't changed her mind since. 

○ meanwhile, jennifer thinks ginger is just.... beneath her. she wouldn't have hated a girl like ginger back in high-school because she never would've fucking noticed her. once she is forced to acknowledge ginger as a sentient, living being due to your poly relationship she's just.... aggravated by her. if jennifer had to put into words what she doesn't like about the other girl it would be how fucking judgmental she is. absolutely rich coming from jennifer of all people but she's serious! you're gonna sit here.... and hate her.... because she's popular and sexy?? are you fucking twelve?? you mangy, pathetic, edgy, "i only listen to evanescence" ass bitch (and she means the bitch part literally.)

at best their relationship could MAYBE wind up like that exchange from jumanji: welcome to the jungle:

Professor Shelly Oberon : Seriously, I can't even open my mouth around you. You don't even know me, but you, like, decided you hate me.

Ruby Roundhouse : Look, I just think you live in, like, the "hot popular girl" bubble, you know, where everybody either treats you like a princess or like an object. Maybe it makes you a little self-absorbed or something?

Professor Shelly Oberon : That's fair. But do you think that maybe the reason why you are so judgy is because you are like afraid that people are not gonna like you, so you've decided not to like them first? I'm just saying, you're a babe, go with it.

but realistically they will never have a conversation this open and honest. they'll stick to bickering and being catty, thank you very much. occasionally they are so catty that they start literally fighting and yes, your house will get destroyed every time some shit pops off between them. please have everything insured. 

○ funnily enough they both like/love jd!! off the bat they both find him incredibly attractive. jennifer saw him and said "yummy.com, much?" ginger did not say anything but watched him like a hungry....well, wolf. honestly though looks weren't enough to keep either of them interested in someone when they were plain human and un-traumatized       let alone now. in fact, considering that jennifer is a succubus her finding jd hot only put him in danger adjkl.

○ lucky for him he was surprisingly resistant to her physical charm/succubus powers/allure when she first approached him, planning to make him her next meal. while she totally took his disinterest as a challenge because uhm?? are you fucking blind?? i'm a fucking buffet?? all i serve is looks?? it also made her respect him quite a bit. jennifer takes very few people seriously. her respecting someone so soon after meeting them is actually a way bigger deal than her liking them. 

○ jd takes some time to warm up to jennifer but not as much as you'd think? while he might roll his eyes at her popular, mean girl shtick he's very observant and sees that there's more to jennifer than meets the eye.

○ the fact that he doesn't immediately hop into her bed just because she sticks her chest out gives him enough time to see beneath her surface and surprises her enough that she let's him. there are plenty of things he likes about her. he admires the way she can just...bend the world to her will. when she wants something she gets it, no matter what. he loves that?? she's very dynamic and bold. excitement either follows her or she chases after it. and unlike a lot of charismatic or popular people jennifer lacks the one trait jd absolutely can't stand       being fake. jennifer doesn't hide the fact that she's a stone cold bitch. she always says exactly what she means or what's on her mind. overall jennifer is an addicting personality to have around and even jd falls for her charm eventually.

○ jennifer won't say it but realizing jd actually cares about her and likes her as a person is what makes her fall, you know       because she's a fucking narcissist... just kidding. it catches her off guard for someone to fall for her because of who she is and not what she looks like. it makes her vulnerable for just long enough that she sees all the things that are good about jd and BOOM, she's in love. now she's got two mates and one annoying hang around whom she also has sex with because she's not hideous (her mate, ginger is also her mate, she just likes ginger less than she likes the two of you.)

○ ginger loves jd's intensity. they're pretty much ' same hat! ' relationship wise.

ginger: men are fucking worthless jd: *walks around fucking unhinged* ginger: ....one man allowed 

○ she genuinely loves his personality and he genuinely loves hers right on back. they're kind of just...mirrors of each other in a lot of ways but there's just enough difference between them that they don't piss each other off. other than their tempers they get along really well because they think the same way?? have the same ideas?? want to do the same things?? kill the same people?? you know bonding shit. they're kind of perfect together? they completely understand one another. they are probably the most like-minded of the whole relationship, not the closest, but they think pretty much the exact same shit, i cannot emphasize this enough. they can make eye contact and know exactly what the other is thinking and they love that. lowkey best friends. highkey you cannot let them go on dates alone. 

○ where do you fit in here? uhm you're the glue and stability of this relationship. sure they all love or begrudgingly (and secretly) like each other but you're like.... gravity. essential and holding the world together, keeping everything balanced. you were probably the start of the relationship to begin with. they all knew you and were growing to love you separately and then each realized they had competition but while they were trying to fight each other off they just sorta...got used to one another. and none of them were willing to give you up so it's lucky they decided to share or it would've been a fucking bloodbath to put it lightly. none of them have self control or boundaries. to get what they want they'd all go ridiculously far... i don't know what's farther than murder but they'd do it. 

○ they all depend on you emotionally, honestly. you're their closest friend, the person they can be vulnerable with, someone they trust to take care of them in the way that matters most. they love you because you make them all feel....human (even jd who is the only actual human besides you. but you get the point.)

sometimes they get jealous of each other, which is ridiculous, because you're almost always together as a group. you do occasionally go off in pairs or to separate outings/activities/dates but generally?? you're all together. it's typically more like-

ginger: you've been hanging off y/n all fucking day, jennifer! they barely fucking smell like me anymore. jennifer: what's so bad about that? you smell fucking disgusting- jd: *grabs ginger around the waist before she can jump across the kitchen counter and beat jen's ass*

however!! there isn't as much inter-group jealously as you'd believe! they actually enjoy having a relationship involving four people.

it feels very secure to them? first off they all feel better in regards to you. they don't worry so much about anything happening to you because you have three over-protective partners who would die and kill for you. they also don't worry about you leaving them because you're so.... you. unlike other, unnamed people they so desperately clung to in the past they know you're not going anywhere. they feel secure enough in their connection with you to be as codependent as possible :)))

(also.... you couldn't leave if you tried lmao. get away from one of them? sure       maybe. get away from all three?? *cue clown music* they'd use ginger as a hunting hound and track you by scent alone.)

the four person relationship feels incredible to ginger because it satisfies her need to have a pack? she'd only ever had her sister before and you know how....close, they were. having more than one, single person to be emotionally attached to/invested in really helps center ginger? it also makes it easier to be in a relationship with her? she can be very intense and focused and she puts a lot of energy into her relationship. having that focus and intensity spread out amongst multiple partners is great for her and for them. 

jennifer only ever really felt connected to one person, needy. losing her was....a lot. she never thought she'd be close to anyone again let alone to three people. she can't stand the mutt sometimes but she loves you and jd!! and she loves being loved. not lusted after. not admired. not envied. loved, genuinely loved. she may be a demon, she might not have a soul anymore, but she does have a heart, and every day she's with the three of you it feels a little less broken. 

since the..."untimely" death of jd's mother (and arguably, even while she was still alive) he's never had any roots. no solid connection. no one to belong to or with. before you, ginger, and jennifer he was just...drifting. when you three came into his life it was like hearing a sudden gunshot in the middle of a calm forest. it was electrifying, and maybe even a little scary. he went from having absolutely nothing to having everything, all at once. for the first time in a long time he has something to be grateful for. he would do anything for the three of you. he'd burn the world to the ground just to see you three smile.  

jd goes on several motorcycle rides a week because while you guys have like two cars...he keeps his motorcycle because jennifer, ginger and you think it's hot and none of you are very practical. he must treat all of you to the delight that is the wind flowing through your hair while you're on the back of his bike. jennifer doesn't like helmet hair but she likes the sexiness factor. ginger likes that it's dangerous so jd always speeds when he's with her, you're not sure how they don't get arrested?? 

date nights are such a nightmare because you guys are all very opinionated?? and particular. you and jd are probably the most easy-going but that doesn't really help because jennifer and ginger are always going to be picky about what you guys wind up doing and they'll say no to whatever the other suggests just on principal. just for their own amusement. 

ginger, jennifer and jd are so over-protective of you. you're such a delicate little human?? how have you been surviving without them?? you need them to take care of you. 

sometimes you'll be like "why the fuck aren't you two stifling jd? he's a human too!!" and they're like "no he's different" which is such bullshit but also like....jd is fucking unhinged. he can take care of himself. you are their baby. 

ginger and jennifer are forever arguing about who is going to transform you and jd. you would think they’d at least agree that one of you is gonna get turned into a demon and one will become a werewolf, at least for the sake of balance, but they literally can’t even agree on THAT let alone which supernatural creature you or jd will wind up as. you two have minimal input in this choice sorry :/ this is werewolf and succubus beef. humans be silent.

you staying human isn't a choice because humans are weak and die so quickly. unacceptable?? ginger is gonna live a long ass time and jennifer is probably immortal. they are not winding up stuck with each other just because you and jd thought you could escape them in death?? fuck you. 

ginger needs all three of you to smell like her. yes, even jennifer. but mostly you and jd as you're her two humans and Preferred Mates. jennifer can smell her scent on you all but she doesn't need to smell it?? it's not instinctual?? meanwhile it straight up gives ginger anxiety when you guys don't smell like her. it's just part of werewolf mating. honestly while ginger smells different from humans she doesn't smell like dog, jennifer just likes to say that to piss her off. if she did smell like dog jennifer wouldn't touch her and would gripe any time she touched you or jd. 

cuddling is such a fucking nightmare. you guys have the biggest couch in the world and it's still a fucking ordeal. every two person couple activity is fucking ordeal for local poly couple.

it's a debate every time about who's going to sit where or who's going to hold who. oh jennifer likes to sit on the armrest? cool. except she wants to cuddle with you, but you want to sit in the middle today, and jd wants his arms around you, but ginger is laying in his lap and refuses to move cause he was riding on his bike too long today and stopped smelling like her so she'll bite him if he moves. 

your life is literally that "man has to get a fox, a chicken, and a sack of corn across a river." riddle i'm so fucking sorry for you.

jennifer likes to buy you and jd clothes. she stopped bothering getting stuff for ginger because the mutt is always so ungrateful of jennifer's taste in clothing. to be fair jennifer only buys a few things that are a bit out of you or jd's comfort range, she tends to buy things that will make you look hot but that you'd also get for yourself. 

jd goes shopping with her because he doesn't like leaving any of his partners alone for long. like he doesn't enjoy it he's also not going to bitch about it like other "dutiful" boyfriends who are left holding a few shopping bags and purses. you can't go out with your girlfriend and hold her shit for her for a couple hours?? can't give her a few minimal responses on whether something looks good or bad??? fuck you. also stop looking at his girlfriend before he pulls out his gun. 

they all encourage the worst of each others possessiveness. not only because being around each other makes it feel normal because they all agree this is a perfectly healthy amount of possessiveness but also because they all think of being possessive as something romantic. you know they love you because they'll rip apart anyone who looks at you for two long!!! 

when you wake up in the morning it's chaos. someone's hair is always in someone's mouth and ginger is a very wild sleeper. especially as it gets closer to the full moon. one of you will wind up on the floor even though you have two king mattresses pushed together. jennifer is one second away from tying ginger up before the four of you go to bed. 

you don't really have to worry much about ginger's transformation?? like she won't hurt you and jd during it because she knows that you two are her mates, she's pretty docile around you two (for a werewolf). she knows that jennifer is her...something so she doesn't try to hurt her but she's also not gonna roll over and show her belly.

if anything does go wrong like ginger gets out/away from you all or out of control jennifer can get her back or put her in check no problem. werewolf cuts/bites don't hurt more than any other type of gnarly injury so jennifer is fine with doing it.

that's one of the ways you can tell jennifer gives a shit about ginger actually. even when ginger will fight her viciously when she's a werewolf jennifer mostly just does things to restrain her, not to hurt her. you'd never point that out though because just to prove she's not soft jennifer might break one of ginger's ribs or some shit next time.

the big concern is making sure ginger doesn't get hurt or caught. jd and jen don't care if she hurts anyone else frankly adjkl. to try and keep ginger running off to a minimum (because it's very hard to keep a werewolf somewhere it doesn't want to be) right before a turn jennifer will bring her own.... food, back to the house and her and ginger will kill them together?? it satiates some of the blood-lust and makes the transformations easier. 

all three of these bastards will try and kiss you or fuck you while you're covered in blood and it's a nightmare!! somehow one of them is always covered in blood!! even if jd wasn't directly involved in a killing he will come home covered in blood because he made out or had sex with one of the girls while they were covered in blood. he thinks they're beautiful when they're blood thirsty :)))

none of them are great at emotions but all three of them together almost make one-functional human being!! and they are all, to their credit, aware of the fact that they aren't great with feelings so they are already naturally over-compensating to make sure they're always taking care of all your needs. 

you: on the phone with a friend complaining about your day, minding your own business the three of them: *manifest from nowhere because their "you having human contact that isn't them" sense was tingling ginger: *snatches your phone and hangs up on your friend* jennifer: *sits in your lap* jd: *wraps an arm around you* why don't you tell us about your day, darling?

a well-oiled machine anyone?

no friends!!! only them!! you are a pack!! you are mates!! you're a family!!! fuck anyone else. 

[excitedlysuffering]

How You Met- Black Butler

Trying something new! Since Netflix only has the first season of BB💀I’ll only be able to write for these three and maybe Grell until I get my hands on the manga. Enjoy!

Ciel Phantomhive~

You suppressed the urge to sigh and roll your eyes as yet another man, who you didn’t care to know the name of, asked you for a dance. Generally, you didn’t mind balls and parties, you had a love for dancing, after all, but tonight your heart just wasn’t in it.

Tonight’s ball was at the Phantomhive manor, and as grand as it was, you couldn’t help but be on edge. Not only did something seem off about the environment, but you had overheard your parents talking of finding you a betrothed, much to your utter and complete horror.

“No, thank you, I was actually going to take a break…” The well-dressed man’s face fell, but you stood by your claim and walked to a nearby table and sat down. You dragged a gloved hand down your face, already exhausted even though there was plenty of party left.

You watched as couples in bright, happy colors waltzed around the room, laughter, and music permeating into every fiber of your being, which, oddly enough, seemed to worsen your mood.

“Not one for balls either?” A rather stiff voice asked you. You whirled around, startled, a hand on your chest. Your eyes widened as they landed on the Eart Phantomhive himself. “E-Earl! Oh, no, no, I’m just a bit tired is all. Everything is wonderful!” He waved a hand. “I dislike these events quite a bit as well. And Ciel will do.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “I’m (Y/N), it’s great to meet you, Ciel.” He lent a hand out to you. “You as well, (Y/N). Would you like to accompany me to the gardens? I often find myself there to escape these things.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, you placed your hand in his and let him guide you outside the ballroom. An adventure with the elusive and mysterious Ciel Phantomhive seemed infinitely better than staying in the stifling room.

Sebastian Michaelis~

Your Death Scythe, two sai, made a cut across the body of a British soldier. As usual, thanks to the fallout of that blasted fallen angel, you were on overtime and had to clean up a palace full of almost dead guards and the like.

“My, my, what do we have here?” Your head snapped up and away from the cinematic records. You froze as you met the typical red eyes of a demon, a particularly smug-looking one at that. “I suppose this was your doing?” You asked flatly.

His smirk widened, confirming what you already knew. “My master asked and I did, however, if I had known that they’d send you, I would’ve done this on my account.” Your eyes rolled behind your Shinigami glasses.

“I’m busy, demon, go bother someone else.” After marking the last man for death, you stood up, sheathing your sai.

“Oh, but you fascinate me!” You gave him a suspicious look. You hadn’t even done anything besides what every Grim Reaper did daily. “Sure.” You prepared to take your leave, but the butler dressed demon appeared in front of you. “You remind me of a cat, aloof, graceful, petite, such a supple body…”

You backed up, mildly disturbed by the ravenette. “...Okay…” He shook his head, breaking himself out of his cat daydream. “I never did get your name, miss?” You cocked an eyebrow.

“I believe it is courteous to introduce yourself before asking me to.” His smirk widened imperceptibly. “Ah, my apologies, miss,” he replied, not sounding sincere in the slightest, “Sebastian Michaelis is what my master has named me.” You shrugged. “Name’s (Y/N).”

Just as he was about to respond, a younger voice rang out. “Sebastian! Don’t be tedious, let’s get going.” You smirked, “Best obey, your master, Sebastian.”

He let out a light chuckle, bowing slightly. “I suppose you’re correct. We’ll meet again, Miss (Y/N).” Then he was gone. A sinking feeling in your stomach told you he had met what he said.

Adrian Crevan (Undertaker)~

London was a cruel place to live for someone who had been dealt a bad hand in life, you know that better than most. After your family had perished in a boat accident, you had lost your home and everything in it. Your only choice was to find a job so you could afford a decent enough place to live.

That was how you found yourself in front of the Undertaker’s shop. This was your last option, but it seemed that fate was against you as every other place had turned you away. Pushing aside your nerves, you walked in the door, squinting in the dim lighting.

“Um, hello? Is anyone here?” You heard footsteps and saw a grey-haired man walk into the room, a biscuit in between his lips. “Oh, hello, dearie~!” You waved shyly as you stepped further into the shop.

“Hi, I was wondering if you had any job openings available? I’m willing to do whatever is needed…” The undertaker giggled, clapping gleefully and you sweatdropped. You’d heard that he was on the… stranger side, but you weren’t quite expecting this.

“Oh, my, an apprentice! What’s your name, dearie?” You sighed in relief, happy he hadn’t yet turned you away. “I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you…” You trailed off, realizing that you didn’t know his name, only his title.

“Just call me, ‘Undertaker’, everyone does,” He giggled. You offered him a small smile, his optimism somewhat contagious. “Alright then, Undertaker, is there anything I need to do in order to get the job?”

His grin widened, seeming to take up the whole area of his face that wasn’t covered by his bangs. Could he even see? “Just one small thing is all I ask! Make me laugh and the job is yours~” You blinked, not quite processing the odd request.

“Make you… laugh?” He nodded eagerly, his sleeved hands clasped together. You racked your brain, trying to think of something that would be sure to make the man laugh.

Before you could say something, the slightly unhinged man burst out laughing, to your confusion. “D-did I miss something?” He only laughed harder, clutching his torso and stumbling all over the room, but managing to avoid the coffins scattered all over.

“You were thinking so hard, dearie! Guess who got the job~” A thrilled smile replaced your confused frown as giggles erupted from your lips, the sounds joining Undertaker’s own laughter.

[specterchasing-a]

I'll Stick With Being Human || Milo & Eddie

TIMING:��2015

LOCATION: White Crest High School

PARTIES: @wickedmilo​ & @specterchasing​

SUMMARY: Milo and Eddie wind up together in detention... again. Eddie talks about believing in vampires, but Milo’s not buying it.

Realistically, Milo knew smoking during the detention he was being given for smoking wasn’t a very smart idea. But he wasn’t good at making smart decisions, and where was the fun in following the rules? If he was in trouble for smoking on school grounds, then what did he really have to lose by smoking on school grounds? A genuine question, one he was confident he knew the answer to. Besides, he had a lookout this time. A friend he had met on multiple occasions during his after school adventures. It seemed they both had a habit of getting caught out, but clearly their punishments were doing nothing to deter them. Every now and then another student would join them, people would come and go. But Eddie seemed to be a constant, and he was grateful for that fact. Pushing the window open as far as he possibly could, he knew from experience they probably had ten minutes before a member of staff returned to check on them, so he sparked up, glancing back towards Eddie who was peering through the glass in the doorway. 

“You can’t be fucking serious.” He muttered, in response to his company's previous statement. They had shared many conversations about ghosts and ghouls, Eddie being a very avid believer in the supernatural. He was more than willing to humour him, especially given how well it managed to pass the time. But vampires? Vampires might be pushing it. He exhaled a breath of smoke, laughing easily as he pulled a nearby desk towards where he was standing. Clambering to sit on it, the height didn’t give him much of an advantage, but it allowed him to better direct the smoke outside. “What, you think they sparkle?” He teased. He couldn’t say he knew very much about ‘vampiric’ lore, beyond what he saw in modern mainstream media. No doubt he was about to learn an awful lot, but he was never going to walk away with the same level of conviction. How could he? “Don’t you think if vampires existed, people would have figured that shit out by now? Hey- keep watching the hall, dude! If I get another detention because of you, I’m taking you down with me. You know that, right?” 

Eddie never learned how to keep his mouth shut. Teachers issued warnings, but he couldn’t resist the urge to give voice to whatever thoughts he deemed important enough. More often than not, his chatty nature landed him in hot water, not that he minded. With Milo around, detention wasn’t all that bad. With most of his fellow students, Eddie understood the importance of keeping his cards to his chest. If he mentioned ghosts or other such creatures to them, it was more than likely that he’d wind up ridiculed—or worse. That wasn’t the case with Milo. Sure, he liked to tease Eddie about his theories but mostly he just listened. Eddie appreciated that about him.

As soon as Milo offered his rebuttal, Eddie rolled his eyes. The scent of smoke stung his nostrils, inspiring a grimace to form. “Ease up, Summers. If you get caught, it’ll be thanks to that stench, not me,” he warned, but quickly directed his gaze toward the hallway to be safe. As far as he could tell, the coast was clear. Eddie’s arms folded over his chest as he leaned against an unoccupied desk. “The whole point is that people already know about vampires—just not, y’know, everyone. And, no, they don’t sparkle… probably.” Admittedly, Eddie didn’t know enough about vampires to relay any facts with unshakable conviction, but that didn’t dissuade him from his belief. 

“But, if you look at an obscene number of deaths in White Crest dating all the way back to the 1700s, you’ll notice a pretty obvious pattern of neck punctures and exsanguination. You can’t tell me that doesn’t seem pretty fuckin’ weird to you.” Eddie eyed him pointedly as if daring him to argue. “I’m right about this, I know I am. I just… have to figure out how to prove it conclusively, is all.”

Milo pointedly exhaled a breath of smoke, blowing it towards the open window before turning to watch as it was pulled outside by a barely existent breeze. “A smell doesn’t prove anything.” He countered. “So long as they don’t see me smoking, it isn’t like they can do shit.” That probably wasn’t true, but he would much rather believe it was. “The whole point is sooo not that people already know about vampires,” he laughed, allowing himself to be drawn back into the conversation. He often liked to tease Eddie about his beliefs, though it was all in good nature. There was no harm in the way he saw the world, and if he was being entirely honest, more often than not, he was genuinely interested to hear more. He wasn’t the type of person to admit that, so he continued their discussions with playful jabs, and questions intended to catch out his friend. As far as he could tell, Eddie didn’t mind. 

“Probably?” He raised his eyebrows, his eyes shining as he took another hasty drag from his cigarette. “Look, every small town has weird deaths. Come on, I mean small towns are already fucking weird. No matter where you go there’s some urban legend, or cryptid living in the woods. It’s just shit people made up to entertain themselves before tv became a thing.” Pausing to think for a moment, he wasn’t sure how to explain the puncture wounds. Then again, he had never seen proof or done any research. For all he knew, Eddie’s information was biased. “What about the vampires in Victorian London? You know those creepy stories of people climbing out of their graves? I read an article about that once, the vampire even made the papers, but everything had a logical explanation. Stuff wasn’t exactly reliable back then. People were confirmed dead all the time when they were just… I don’t know, taking a nap or something. And you think animals don’t go for the neck sometimes? Or people don’t get carried away with their kinks?” He grinned, watching to see if Eddie became flustered, or took the comment in his stride.

At the mention of kink-related deaths, Eddie let out a huff of laughter. “What a way to go,” he mused with a smirk, trying to ignore how warm his cheeks suddenly felt. With how sex-obsessed boys his age were, Eddie quickly learned the importance of seeming comfortable discussing the subject. Still, he much preferred talking about vampires; he understood them better.

“Look, I’m not saying that mundane reasons for puncture wounds don’t exist, y’know, they do, but what if that’s not always the case?” Eddie’s shoulders raised along with his eyebrows. “Not to sound completely unhinged, but maybe—just maybe—Vampires don’t want people to know about them and, over the years, they’ve been covering up the truth with logical explanations. They’re immortal, they’ve got plenty of free time to do so.” 

Eddie glanced back at the hallway to make sure Milo remained unspotted, quickly returning his attention to him when all was clear. “And who’s to say that logical explanations and the supernatural can’t coexist? The same result can occur even with vastly different triggers. If we hold on too tightly to what we understand, we’ll never find out how massive and diverse the world really is.” 

Milo laughed, smoke unfurling on his breath. “I’m sure there are worse ways.” He pointed out, tapping ash onto the window ledge before sweeping it away with his hand. He could see the faint blush on Eddie’s face, but did nothing to draw attention to it. He was more than satisfied by his answer, and making him feel self conscious would be far more malicious than a few playful comments about sex. “I mean, even if the puncture wounds aren’t coming from something mundane, I’m just saying it’s a bit of a stretch to assume mythological creature, you know?” Laughing again, he took one final drag of his cigarette before killing it and throwing it outside. It would only land on the grassy bank two floors below, nobody was ever going to notice. “It’s too late,” he teased. “You sound unhinged, but that’s why I like you.” 

Sliding off of the desk, he made a point of dragging it back to where it previously had been, deciding to wait before closing the window so that the smell of smoke had longer to dissipate. “You know, I get it. If I was a vampire I wouldn’t exactly want people to know.” He admitted, thinking about it very briefly before continuing. “But don’t you think like, with technology and shit like Twilight, people might start to notice if vampires were actually out there?” Grinning easily as his friend began to talk in his usual way, passion lacing his tone as he fought to sound reasonable and profound, he took a seat back at his allocated desk. He couldn’t hide the affection he felt, and couldn’t deny the fact that Eddie did sound reasonable, and profound. But he wasn’t about to give in so easily. “What’s the scientific explanation for Edward sparkling? That’s the real fucking question here.” 

At the mention of his theory being a stretch, Eddie responded with an indifferent shrug. “To reach the truth, sometimes a little stretching is necessary.” He thought about his ability to see and hear ghosts, how no reasonable explanation for that existed. It seemed a little far fetched to think of himself as an anomaly. Others had to be out there. 

“You sound unhinged, but that’s why I like you.” Eddie blinked in surprise at Milo’s comment, a slow grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Careful, or I’ll take that as a greenlight to unload my even weirder theories.” He liked Milo, too. On a few occasions in the past, he thought about asking if they could hang-out outside of detention, but could never muster up the courage to go through with it. Regardless, he had no trouble considering him a friend.

“I mean, people have,” Eddie replied enthusiastically. “If you look online, there’s plenty of people discussing the existence of vampires and there’s no way they’re all bullshitting.” As soon as Milo sat down, Eddie took a trip to the desk next to his and seated himself. His knees tucked under the metal bar connecting the chair to the flat surface of the desk so that his attention was solely on his fellow delinquent. “There’s even talk of slayers; people born to hunt vampires. Just because the media refuses to cover something, doesn’t mean it’s not out there.”

When the conversation circled back to Edward Cullen, Eddie laughed. “Who’s to say? Maybe vampires just have a thing for glitter. But, in reality, they probably don’t get a chance to sparkle for too long before they burst into flames.” He went quiet for a moment, deep thought furrowing his brow. “Y’know, I read a lot about supernatural beings and, with some, I can’t help but think how cool it would be to be like them, but vampires? Mostly, I feel bad for them.”

“I don’t know if scientists would agree with that logic.” Milo teased. “But every YA author out there is screaming. You should write a book.” Laughing easily at the mention of wilder, and weirder theories, he wasn’t surprised Eddie had them. And he would be lying if he said he wasn’t secretly interested in hearing more. But instead, he matched his friends grin, tilting lazily back in his chair. “We can save those for double detention, they sound like they might take more than an hour to get through.” 

Raising his eyebrows, at his friend’s following comment, he shot him a pointedly skeptical look. “You have been on the internet, right? Are you sure these aren’t just people trying to will their fantasies into existence? Do you know how many girls cry themselves to sleep because they aren’t about to marry a vampire who sparkles in the sun?” Turning slightly as Eddie took the seat beside him, he picked up the pen he had abandoned to smoke, tapping it absentmindedly against his desk. “Wait, so Van Helsing is also out there?” He was feigning disbelief again, making out he didn’t genuinely want to know, but he had a feeling Eddie recognised that. They had spent far too much time together now for him to buy into the disinterested act. “I’ve never actually heard anyone talk about slayers before.” He admitted. “Not in the context of like, conspiracy theories.” 

His eyes shining as the conversation inevitably circled back to Edward, it felt good to make Eddie smile. Regardless of why they were both in detention, it wasn’t exactly a great way to spend an hour of your time afterschool. Eddie made it bearable for him, and he liked to think he did the same in return. “Burst into flames like an explosion? Or is it not that dramatic? I like the idea of being incredibly extra. If you’re gonna go, why not do it in a burst of fucking flames.” His smile faltering as the joking began to ease up, there weren’t many things he considered during their conversations about the supernatural. He listened, he laughed, he encouraged. But this was interesting, why would anybody take sympathy for a creature that was historically supposed to be bloodthirsty, and out of control? What lore did Eddie know? “You do?” He asked curiously. “Why? They get to live forever, and have cool powers, right? Doesn’t sound so awful to me.” 

Eddie had very little interest in fiction, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t dream of one day knowing enough about the supernatural to write books. Most people would disregard them, but he hoped that some would take him seriously. “I’ll make sure to get into even more trouble than usual,” Eddie promised, not that it took much effort from him.

“Yeah, I know it’s not always smart to believe what you read on forums, but some of these people really sound like they know a thing or two.” Eddie needed some of the claims to be genuine. If they weren’t, it meant everything he knew was built on lies. 

When Milo feigned disbelief, Eddie responded with raised brows and pursed lips, still unable to completely erase his grin. “Yeah, they’re like, total badasses who do everything they can to keep vampires off the streets. They’re basically superheroes.” But, no matter how much Eddie wanted to root for slayers, he couldn’t find it in himself to want all vampires to die. Most of them didn’t ask to be creatures of the night, it seemed wrong to paint them all as villains.

“Your guess is as good as mine but, now that you mention it, I hope there’s some flair.” Eddie should have hated detention, but Milo actually gave him a reason to look forward to it. They didn’t have a lot in common, but they kept each other entertained. Eddie didn’t know many people who made him laugh like Milo did, it was nice. 

“I dunno,” Eddie said when the laughter died down. “If you ask me, the whole immortality thing sounds like a raw deal. They’re destined to outlive everything they love. And then there’s the whole needing to drink blood to survive—what if they don’t wanna hurt anybody? But, y’know, they have to or they die slowly and painfully. No more sunlight, no more normal life, just shadows and blood. I don’t think there’s a superpower out there that would make a life like that worth it, do you?”

“I feel like you don’t need any help with getting into trouble,” Milo pointed out. “But then neither do I so I guess I’ll see you same time next week?” Humming quietly in response, he smirked at Eddie, unable to help himself. “You said that, not me.” There was no harm in checking out forums, of course. And it seemed to make his friend incredibly happy, but he wasn’t about to ruin their dynamic by being supportive. “Anyone can sound like they know a thing or two, I could probably convince you I’m a doctor with all the useless knowledge my parents have forced on me over the years. But please don’t let me anywhere near medical equipment, you know? I’m a liability.” Laughing at the idea of slayers being superheroes, he had only ever seen one trashy Van Helsing movie, but his mind decided to conjure the image of its serious, angsty protagonist proudly wearing a bright red cape. “Maybe don’t tell the slayers that, they probably have better fashion sense...” 

Clicking his pen so that he could doodle on the desk as he listened, he found himself drawing a stick figure with fangs. He was tempted to surround the figure in flames, but the thought made him feel a little guilty. Maybe he had been spending too much time with Eddie. “I feel like if there was flair, the viral videos would be endless.” He pointed out. “If we’re really going with vampires being legit it’s probably quiet, and highkey depressing.” A frown creasing his brow as he added a cape to his miniature vampire, he began to colour it black, needing to make it clear it wasn’t a tacky superhero rendition. “If they stick with other vampires then maybe the immortality isn’t so bad.” He murmured thoughtfully. “But yeah, I guess maybe the other stuff doesn’t sound so great. I think I’ll stick with being Human. Can’t come to detention if I have to avoid the sunlight, and then who’s going to keep you company?”

Eddie grinned broadly at the mention of seeing Milo again the following week. It felt nice to have a schedule involving arranged meet-ups, even if they were obligated to be there. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he mused. Milo launched into a short speech about the importance of credible sources and, as much as Eddie hated to admit it, he made a fair point. “Okay, yeah, you’re not wrong, but I’m not giving them permission to remove my appendix. I’m just reading what they have to say about Vampires, so I’m probably safe unless a creature of the night decides to give me a graded pop quiz on their species,” he explained with laughter bubbling beneath his words. “Maybe, but I kinda hope they don’t. They already have superpowers, why would they need to top things off by being fashionable? That’d just be unfair.”

Eddie’s gaze landed on Milo’s doodle, the sight prolonging his grin. If it had been drawn on paper rather than a desk, he would’ve liked to have kept it. “Yeah, I think humanity’s the way to go,” he agreed as he finally looked back to his friend. “I look forward to wasting my mortality with you by spending it in detention.” Maybe next time he’d see about making plans beyond school property. 

[punkscowardschampions]

Ruby & Cosmo

Ruby: Dying to know is every date colour coded? ❤️

Cosmo: Oh, God 😅 How unintentionally cringe

Cosmo: That sums up how well it went, sadly

Ruby: the quick reply had me thinking you were back early or answering in the middle of dinner

Cosmo: 🤫

Cosmo: I’d never!

Cosmo: It was a favour and I think that showed

Cosmo: She’s my cousin’s friend and just got dumped, sweet girl but perhaps not ready to be great company

Ruby: explains the 🌹

Cosmo: Not very personal or too basic?

Ruby: a nice try if it was your first date ever but I know it’s not

Cosmo: Thank God I didn’t get another bouquet 😏

Cosmo: They weren’t buy one get one free though, before you say

Ruby: they looked expensive

Ruby: she would’ve felt guilty throwing them back in your face

Cosmo: I told you I weren’t texting under the table, why would she need to?

Ruby: you told me why, they’re impersonal & basic

Ruby: & heartbreak makes you unhinged

Cosmo: I wouldn’t call her unhinged

Cosmo: at least not to her face, right

Ruby: 😅

Ruby: or your cousin’s

Ruby: Are you staying out in town or going home to change?

Cosmo: I don’t fancy showing up in the club in this

Cosmo: never mind hearing what my friends would have to say

Cosmo: What are you up to?

Ruby: the VIP area has seen worse, you don’t look like you raided the Gucci sale rail, eyes closed

Ruby: & your friends have worn worse, but I won’t say it to their faces

Ruby: I’m waiting for my own friends to be done making their own questionable outfit choices as usual

Cosmo: Careful, that was almost a compliment and not just a drag of the lads

Cosmo: not undeserved on their end but what did I do to make you decide to be nice to me?

Cosmo: besides entertain you with my dating woes whilst they redo their makeup, again

Ruby: You know how to dress, it’s a fact

Ruby: & I didn’t decide to be nice, it just happened

Cosmo: Not that you’re not usually nice in general

Cosmo: but here I am, feeling special, like 💖🤩

Cosmo: It’s also a fact, though not an impressive one, that I’m not lame enough to go in for that negging bullshit, so whatever I end up doing, calling you a bitch ain’t on the agenda

Ruby: there you were down in the dumps about your disaster date, I thought I’d try to help

Ruby: I wouldn’t, it only works for Mason when everyone’s too busy watching his feet move to care about his mouth & that’s not the audience you’ve got atm

Cosmo: I think I’ll survive

Cosmo: but I appreciate it

Cosmo: I’ve seen him get in trouble for his mouth plenty of times on the pitch

Cosmo: but referees aren’t ones to be sweet-talked so…

Ruby: your expensive roses are wasted on them 🥀

Cosmo: That is the real tragedy 💔

Cosmo: I reckon 🍷 could work on your dad though, whaddya think?

Ruby: aren’t we beyond bribes? I thought we were

Cosmo: You don’t have to go up for contract renewals

Cosmo: but I was joking, so don’t tell him he’s on a promise there

Ruby: oh yeah, it’s a joke you being worried you won’t get renewed

Ruby: he doesn’t shut up about you after a few 🍷’s with your dad

Cosmo: Sorry you’ve had to witness/hear that

Cosmo: can’t help my case

Ruby: it wouldn’t be realistic to entertain you or let you entertain me if he wasn’t on board

Cosmo: No?

Ruby: secrecy & sneaking around would be impossible unless we could both drop what we were doing at a moment’s notice, which we can’t

Cosmo: True

Cosmo: Neither of us has the time for that

Ruby: or the anonymity

Cosmo: You aren’t wrong

Ruby: 💖🤩 back at me?

Ruby: you’re being agreeable, above & beyond the Sunday roast standard you set when everyone was listening in

Cosmo: Agreeable from you I can take

Cosmo: I didn’t know any of you guys were going to be there, so if I wasn’t on top form

Cosmo: I’d love to have a second chance to do it better, of course

Cosmo: Somewhere more exciting than family dinner

Cosmo: and no impersonal and basic 🌹s

Ruby: I’d love to skip the club tonight, it stopped being exciting forever ago

Ruby: there’s your chance

Cosmo: Alright

Cosmo: I’ll make something happen and I’ll send you the place and the dress code

Ruby: pastel colours wash me out

Cosmo: What kind of place would be pastels only? 🤔

Ruby: [name drop somewhere boujee that you’ve been probably with your mum and godmother lol]

Ruby: you wasted the ❤️ on the wrong girl 💔

Cosmo: She wasn’t wearing red

Ruby: it was never going to work out

Cosmo: That might be for the best

Ruby: tbd

Ruby: but I’m not feeling like I’ll cry or talk about any of my exes so it’ll be better for you

Cosmo: And for you

Cosmo: not that you’re letting me be impressive with a bar that low but you know

Ruby: you’ll get over or under it if you want to

Cosmo: If I couldn’t rise to the occasion your dad definitely wouldn’t stand for it

Ruby: I won’t either

Cosmo: tbd

Cosmo: I heard

Ruby: another girl has beat me to denying you everything, I have no choice but to switch it up to keep things interesting

Cosmo: Has hard-to-get worked since the days of negging?

Cosmo: You’ve got all the choices, and no need to play any sort of game with me

Cosmo: Let’s have a good time

Ruby: it might have worked for people who want a different reputation than I do

Ruby: that’d wash me out too, the whole projection of intense cold bitch energy

Ruby: a good time is more doable

Cosmo: It wouldn’t get you very far, I understand

Cosmo: We all have to be some type of way to get to where we need to be

Ruby: yeah & talent has to be backed up with 😁✨

Cosmo: A winning personality, of course

Ruby: if I don’t have that both of my parents & coach are going to lose it, definitely

Cosmo: Well, you don’t need to worry about that, from my perspective

Ruby: from my POV neither of us will be worrying until the alarm wakes us early tomorrow & it’ll be too late to stress it by then

Ruby: the good time’ll have already happened

Cosmo: I’ll drink to that

Cosmo: [something that’s between the restaurant moment we just took Savannah to and the normal clubs they would go to, idk what that would look like, like a club that’s a bit sassier than the beyond standard ones footballers and WAGs would hang in]

Cosmo: but I won’t start without you, like

Ruby: not counting the 🍷 if the 🍝 soaked it up

Ruby: but what do you want me to wear? 🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍🤎

Cosmo: ❤️ off the table then

Ruby: the bar hasn’t fallen through the floor, I’m not okaying you wearing the outfit you chose for her & me dressing to match it

Cosmo: 😅 I’ve gone home but alright

Cosmo: I want to see what you come up with, actually

Cosmo: I’ll show you I’ve got better than the jumper, don’t worry

Ruby: I’ll do better than a roast with the fam, talk about a low bar

Cosmo: I think you’re probably incapable of looking bad

Ruby: try keeping me up all night & you’ll see

Cosmo: I won’t be the first or the last to show up to practice feeling less than 💯 … are all the other ice skaters perfect 😇s?

Ruby: I’m not giving any details of who isn’t, you’re a date down tonight as is, I’m not getting ditched for someone even more 😈

Cosmo: About how that looks

Cosmo: ‘cos I know

Cosmo: We aren’t going to post anything are we?

Cosmo: I’m not looking to add to the poor girl’s 💔 and I know it’s a dick move to not even wait ‘til tomorrow

Ruby: 📵

Ruby: getting into a fight with your cousin over me is even more Romeo & Juliet than sneaking around behind my dad’s back, we all know how it ended

Ruby: drama in the routine is fine but off the ice it’s not cute

Cosmo: Drama on the pitch depends how you feel about diving

Cosmo: but I appreciate that

Ruby: how I feel about diving depends how much my brother has got to me & I want to get him back for it

Cosmo: 🟥 or 🟨 depending on the day

Ruby: 🟥 usually

Cosmo: I feel that

Cosmo: about my own, usually, not necessarily yours but I can see the how and why there too

Ruby: yours made an impression, not at all good

Cosmo: That’s his speciality

Ruby: 😬 brothers bring the mood down when they’re ours

Cosmo: Neither of them’s invited

Ruby: it’ll make a change not to see mine out

Cosmo: That’s unlucky

Ruby: but you’re on to a winner with the location, congrats

Cosmo: I had a good feeling

Ruby: I’ve got one too

Cosmo: 💖🤩

Ruby: a compliment to last until I get there

Cosmo: tbd 👋

Ruby: ❤️

Cosmo: [so obviously this night is gonna go better than the awkward date, though that’s not hard soz Savannah, but also a step above the standard club moment of every weekend hence we stay out longer than we usually do when we’ve got an early start tomorrow]

Ruby: [and equally as obviously if you found enough to talk about when you were around all your annoying relatives for that roast I’m not worried about you struggling for a convo tonight, you’re both cute and have things in common and there’s clearly a vibe]

Cosmo: [I don’t think anything needs to happen tonight but it’s obvious you like each other ‘cos you could both be bothered to show and do this]

Ruby: [agreed it feels legit to who you both are and your priorities to wanna take things a bit slower than that, like it’s clearly unlike her already to do this when you were literally on a date earlier and staying out later than planned is also something neither of you do a lot so]

Cosmo: [yes, we’re not that kind of boy, not saying you’ve never slept with anyone obvs lmao but we’re not a different gal every weekend energy at all]

Ruby: [likewise neither calling this gal a nun or a slag but I doubt she's been out with that many people cos of a) her busy schedule and b) the lowkey famous dad and brother thing that would make some lads wanna try it on for that reason]

Cosmo: [exactly dr phil, you wanna skip to the AM of it all?]

Ruby: [absolutely boo]

Cosmo: 🟥 or 🟨 for keeping you out past your bedtime then?

Ruby: Are you willing to take credit or am I blaming a messy friend’s man troubles?

Cosmo: That depends

Cosmo: we would have to find a friend we’d mutually not mind throwing under the bus and I’m not sure if my brain is capable rn

Ruby: it wouldn’t be taxing to mine to think up someone believable, if you’re keen to show up to my door with 💐 & fool my dad that it’s the first move you’ve made

Ruby: for rep’s sake

Cosmo: The 💔 is all around

Cosmo: a hangover will have you feeling that way

Cosmo: are YOU keen for me to show up at your door with 💐s, that’s the real question here

Ruby: I’ll start getting hangovers when I’m old, it’s a scare tactic before, not a real thing

Ruby: impressing my dad doesn’t necessarily impress me

Cosmo: 😂

Cosmo: That’s alright, I already have impressed him, so it’s definitely not my intention here

Ruby: let’s hear what your intentions are

Cosmo: Now you’re bragging about how un-hungover you are

Cosmo: How about you let me set up a second date and we can talk about it then?

Ruby: a brag would have a selfie attached, I was reassuring you I’m not suffering mild alcohol poisoning like most of our friends

Ruby: a second date for when?

Cosmo: I’m pleased to hear it

Cosmo: it doesn’t make for a pretty sight

Cosmo: [pisstakey shot of some of the lads dying in the changing room or wherever like ew lol]

Cosmo: Send me your calendar and I’ll see?

Ruby: 😬 lovely [but send him something similar of the girls obvs and then your calendar of course, I’m cackling because what if the only time they can both do is tonight so that looks really extra when you’re both not]

Cosmo: They’d kill us for that 😏

Cosmo: [we so could, lmao okay]

Cosmo: Well, it looks like either we double down and go for tonight or we give it a rain check and see in a couple weeks 🤔

Ruby: tonight works for me but it’s you who’d be doing the work to think of somewhere else with wow factor

Cosmo: Undefeated with two wins sounds a lot better than one

Ruby: yeah & I don’t want to talk about weeks on the bench

Cosmo: Be a bit of a dirty tactic to put the blame on you for not going out with me tonight if I get benched but

Cosmo: If it works I’m not above it

Cosmo: So, what kind of place are you looking to avoid tonight?

Ruby: do we need to avoid anywhere or flash photography? your cousin & the girl they forced you to date can’t stay mad forever

Cosmo: No, we don’t have to

Ruby: 💖🤩

Cosmo: Understood

Cosmo: I’ll get back to you

Ruby: 🚫🍷🥃🍸🍹 can be tonight’s rule if you need a break

Cosmo: I don’t

Cosmo: I just needed to know what you want to do, and now I do and I’m thinking

Ruby: I know you don’t need it to have or be fun, me either hopefully

Cosmo: I think you’re fun

Cosmo: and it’s definitely tragic if you have to rely on something like that, that’s not me

Ruby: it’s nobody I know or would count as worth knowing

Cosmo: Totally

Cosmo: Okay, I’m going on the pitch, send you deets later

Ruby: don’t mess up or I’m going to cancel tonight & I don’t want to so that’ll be us both in bad moods 😘

[demonicowgirl]

okay finished rule of wolves and i have THOUGHTS..... of which i have gathered..... like sheep i have herded them together. so no it's not coherent. spoilers under cut so abandon hope all ye who enter here

okay….. deadass…… i think my favorite point of view was from the darkling LIKE?!?!?! me before starting this book: HAHA THE DARKLING IS GOING TO DIE FOR THE SECOND TIME!!!!! GET REKT!!!!! me after: His first soldiers were dead now. Lovers, allies, countless kings and queens. Only he continued on. Eternity took practice, and he’d had plenty of it. The world had changed. War had changed. But he had not. but seriously he’s so dramatic and the shit is he says is like. unhinged. i had a blast

zoya deserves so much love and peace and i knew she’d end up queen but this was…. not how i expected it would be. but more thoughts on that down the list

how is jesper going to show up for approximately 14 pages and manage to be the funniest character in the entire book. like he’s got probably 50 lines and each one fucking hits HOW DOES HE DO IT

mayu’s chapters felt very unnecessary and i would’ve preferred to just not know how tamar’s mission in shu han is going until the khergud show up for their ride of rohirrim/knights of the vale moment. maybe leigh wrote it that originally and it just didn’t work? because i can definitely see how insane it would read like all we know about khergud is that they hunt grisha and then all of sudden they’re…. helping ravka?!?!? like it would be really hard to pull off but idk i think all of mayu’s chapters were just. kind of sloggy and the surprise would’ve been fun during the battle

sorry but i still don’t know what the fuck an airship looks like. or what the fjerdan naval base was supposed to look like. the tech in this universe is truly mind boggling

kaz brekker is so in love with inej ghafa. god they make me SICK

okay nina’s storyline…… this is my biggie……………… sigh. okay. nina’s storyline was my favorite part of king of scars and so i was really looking forward to seeing what would happen here. and for the most part i was having a great time!! i love her and hanne (more than i ever got into her and matthias) and i was so excited for jarl brum to finally fucking die. but then the last few chapters. i’m so……….. okay talking about hanne being a trans character (i’ll be using they/them pronouns because it doesn’t feel like a settled issue especially since they talk about not wanting to *be* rasmus, just his body). it makes so much sense for their character and i had HUUUUGE vibes all the way back in kos and i could see it coming here in row. but the way leigh handled their “transition” (???) is not good. like hanne had to kill a cis man and take on his identity to transition and that is such a bad handling i think??? who approved this. but also from a narrative standpoint it GETS WORSE?!?! like how the fuck is hanne gonna pretend to be a PRINCE… what will they do about the king and queen?? and nina remaining mila…… it honestly makes me really angry. that nina would turn her back on her country and friends and family for a LOVE INTEREST…… like her storyline has centered SO MUCH about how much she misses ravka, and in this duology even ketterdam!! like we all realize that when nina focuses on missing waffles or blini *those are symbolic stand-ins for her friends and it’s easier for her to talk about missing food than missing her friends*. like we all know that. and then in the end she says you know what i can PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE ELSE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE????? and not just a random fjerdan woman literally someone who will be QUEEN OF FJERDA ONE DAY. like an incredibly public position that will put mila under a ton of scrutiny… more than her identity was created for! and nina literally acknowledges that if they got the real mila jandersdat’s friends and neighbors to look at nina they’d know she was an impostor. so what is mila’s village gonna do when they hear mila jandersdat is apparently back from noyvi zem and now engaged to the prince???? i think leigh chose an ending that just doesn’t hold up narratively and logically. like i want nina to be happy and find love but why does it have to be…. not as nina.

my other big gripe is the politics and international implications of everything that’s going on like…… ravka is engaging in some CIA-backed-coups-in-latin-america levels of diplomacy. like fjerda is not just going to have a secret grisha impersonating their prince and eventual king one day, but their queen will ALSO be a secret grisha and RAVKAN SPY???? if nina was ever caught do you know the level of international scandal that would cause??? how the fuck could zoya even let her go off and do this??? it would absolutely be grounds for war and i thought zoya and everybody were TIRED of war. speaking of ravka’s government. guys we LITERALLY DO NOT HAVE TO HAVE A MONARCHY. like i was actually hoping zoya would become queen but like…. because she married nikolai. not because nikolai stepped down and she was appointed. like i was fine with the monarchy sticking around if they never even had a chance to contemplate alternatives but they literally say no………. we choose monarchy. besides the fact that the world is advancing and monarchies don’t last long in technologically advanced societies, zoya is going to have the most unstable reign because of the threat from the lantsovs. like nikolai’s parents are gonna go back to the southern colonies and just be like “our son ended our dynasty and put a grisha on our throne but that’s fine! we shouldn’t try to reinstate ourselves or anything.” demidov is fine with this??? he had a problem with nikolai being a lantsov pretender but zoya just starting her own monarchial dynasty gets no pushback??? like i know nobody wants to end the book/series on such a depressing note but like. a revolution and/or coup is staring zoya in the face. and yeah she’s the motherfucking dragon but um…… so was daenerys targaryen. and ultimately it really feels like the ending of game of thrones where a bunch of noblemen are gathered in one room and they’re like “we have the chance to change the course of our country forever so we will…….. START A NEW DYNASTY!” ….. HUH?!?!!? like when nikolai was like ravka will choose its leader! and the only people from ravka in the room are the landed gentry and peerage. like yeah ravka really got a say in this…. so no nikolai i actually don’t think the nazyalensky dynasty will last that long because with all the threats of being overthrown on LITERALLY ALL SIDES zoya may just decide to say fuck it and give the people democracy so it’s no longer her problem! or she just gets killed. so. anyways if the only known countries in this world are ruled by either 1. monarchies (fjerda, ravka, shu han) or 2. plutocracy (kerch) i can see why literally fucking everybody is moving to noyvi zem. like jesus i would too!

genya deserves so much better she has suffered so much and i know leigh needed to make the war have personal consequences BUT DOES SHE HAVE TO HURT GENYA IN THE PROCESS???? like she just doesn’t get a break. anyways i hope she retires from the triurmvirate and goes to live with alina and mal in keramzin because you know what. they were right. they were right to turn their back on literally everything to do with ravkan politics. genya go join them pls

zoya’s expression of grief and mourning… yeah. yeah that one hurt.

i know everybody’s talking about the potential of soc3 but actually i don’t want that! let the crows be in peace in ketterdam!!!! their biggest threats should be like. getting shanked in the barrel not whatever the fuck zoya will put them through. i hope kaz just ignores her letters and when the Queen of Ravka personally comes to his doorstep he reiterates that he’s RETIRED. and when zoya tries to pull the inej card she pops out from behind kaz and says “i’m on vacation with my boyfriend. we’re good!” LET THEM REST!!!!!!!

so yes these are my thoughts not all of them but many of them. i still really enjoyed it and think it was waaaay better than king of scars (not as good as soc & ck though <3). the problem is that the ending definitely colors your view of everything that's happened and if you don't like the ending... well. it's not even that i didn't like the entirety of the ending i mostly just hated nina's and the implications of zoya's. do not mistake me for a darkling fangirl!!!! anyways the writing in this was really good too and there were more moments that just HIT ME than in kos, which i think i just sort.... breezed through without getting hit in the face by a brick of a line. but this one has so many moments especially in zoya and the darkling's chapters that i'm just like OH!!!!! so that is why i leave you with this:

"Zoya, do you know why the Darkling lost the civil war? How Alina stopped him?" Zoya pinched the bridge of her nose. "No. I wish I did." "Because he always fought alone. He let his power isolate him. Alina had us. You have us. You push us away, keep us at arm's distance so that you won't mourn us. But you'll mourn us anyway. That's the way love works."

[aphspain-pure]

Back to de past, right to the future [Chap. I]

Category: Fanfic. 

Pair: EngSpa, UkSpa. 

Words: 2.611.

Genre(s): drama, historical, yaoi. 

Abstract: England feels some magical disturbance in the air that morning. How could he have imagined that it was caused by his own self, but some centuries ago. 

Pirate England suddendly appears in the Modern Era. 

________________

When he opened his eyes, England could not focus well. 

It was dark and cold, but the tremendous and familiar humidity of his cabin or any of the parts of his ship was not noticeable. Nor could he feel the typical rocking of the waves of the high seas, so he deduced that, God knows why, he was not in his boat.

He scrambled to his feet and took a quick look around him in dismay. He was in complete darkness but, thanks to the patch over his left eye, he was quickly able to get used to the lack of light. Only then he did recognize the place.

This was his magic room, where since Viking occupation times he had conjured his spells and his miracles. It was cloudy, dark and penetrating as always. There was nothing out of place except for him, who couldn't bring himself to remember how in the hell he had gotten there. He did not remember even having arrived at port, even having approached Great Britain. The last thing he remembered was being on his ship, somewhere between the Caribbean and the West Indies, and he couldn't figure out how or when he ended up there.

Grunting in disagreement, with a hangover of a thousand horrors, he decided to leave the questions unanswered for later and get up, dusting himself off, ready to go out and yell at the first servant who crossed his path. He didn't know what was going on but he didn't care, at least he wouldn't think about it until he'd had his first shot of whiskey or rum and kicked a couple of arse.

Or so he thought, unhinged, until he opened his special room’s door and took a look outside.

- What the bloody hell?

 ____________________________

In another part of London, England watched the energy in the air with a puzzled countenance, noticing slight arrhythmic disturbances in the wind while enjoying his famous breakfast tea. He was in a cozy old café from his Victorian era that still stood to this day and which England cherished with pure English love and courtesy. He had decided to have breakfast there, early, to arrive with plenty of time for the world conference that day. That was why he had left the house exceptionally early, even if he usually preferred to get up at a moderate hour and take it easy on homely mornings.

He sighed. He had once been a man of action.

Maybe America was right when he accused him of being a boring old curmudgeon.

He calmly finished his cup of tea, retrieved his coat from the courteous waiter who had stripped him of it earlier –a practice which, now almost extinct in modern times, England greatly appreciated-, thanked him and left. The day was cloudy and threateningly rainy in London, as usual.

Thus, once outside, he felt again that feeling of unease that had been attacking him for some time. A spiritual unrest, as if something bad was about to happen. Deciding not to become paranoid, he called his chauffeur to take him to the boardroom right in the center of Westminster.

 __________________________

He arrived early, and the only other nations besides himself already there were Germany, Switzerland, Netherlands, and Japan. The rest would still be in their respective hotels or even, if they had decided to fly from their countries that morning, on the plane or the airport. As far as he knew, France used to prefer the latter option when meetings were held at his place, preferring to spend as little time as possible on British soil. And England could not say that it did not understand or disapprove of it; moreover, he would resort to the same when the situation was the opposite.

He walked over, respectfully greeted the three blonde nations, and calmly placed himself next to Japan. His transoceanic friend gave him a slight bow of the head. - Ohayo gosaimasu, Igirisu-san. How has the sun risen today? –he commented, in an appropriate and neutral tone.

England appreciated the chivalricism. – It isn’t being one of my best days, but I cannot complain. Anyway, good morning to you too, Japan. –And the Japanese gave him a small and short smile.

After that all went silent, and the only thing that was heard for a few minutes was the chalk of Germany hitting the blackboard as he wrote down the important points of the day. Everyone knew that the meeting would probably end as usual, with nothing clear, with the United States laughing and claiming to be a hero every few seconds, the odd country asleep, hysterical discussions between itself and France and Russia trying to make people become one with him, but Germany still insisted on trying to create a serious atmosphere. Internally, England admired and appreciated his dedication, even if it didn't get real results in the end.

Eventually the rest of the countries began to arrive one by one. The feeling of discomfort and that something was wrong did not leave the guts of the host country, anyway.

There was something strange, even dangerous, floating in the atmosphere. His sharp, mint green eyes scanned every corner trying to find the source of the discomfort, unable to find anything. He had a pleasant conversation with Luxembourg when he arrived and later he chatted with Portugal a bit, all automatically while he went over everything. Each time the air was tighter from a supernatural point of view, as if the Disaster itself was drawing closer and closer.

It wasn't until Norway appeared in his field of vision that England paid any real attention to something. 

Usually they would do nothing but greet each other from afar with a minimal movement of the head. But if Norway had stood there, in front of him, it definitely meant something.

Getting to the point, the Nordic inquired. - What the hell is happening here? –With his frankness and usual calm voice.

England, sighing, crossed his arms and furrowed his thick eyebrows.

- It's been bothering me since this morning. I don't know what the hell it can be, but it's downright disturbing. It is… like a powerful presence but at the same time cloudy. And the strangest thing of all is that it looks strangely familiar to me.

- Yeah… -the other man agreed-. It's ... certainly familiar in some way. –Then he looked around-. And every time it seems to increase that energy. You haven't used magic again while drunk, have you? –And for a moment, England looked offended. At least before recalling the hundreds of times it had actually happened, after which he quietly apologized.

Trying to hide that he was somewhat ashamed of himself, he cleared his throat and muttered that he didn't remember conjuring anything lately. That definitely upset the Norwegian's stern gesture a bit.

- So this doesn't make sense.

A moment later the Italian brothers entered and Germany called the session off. He and Norway were forced to separate, but not before sending each other glances of beware of anything and nodding in agreement.

But in these, just as Germany was about to start with the first point of the day, the main gate that led to the huge boardroom was thrown open. 

And the most incredible thing happened.

- What the hell is going on here by gad!? –The sordid growl of the new presence broke in. They all immediately turned to look there and, simply petrified, England stood up, shocked, knocking the chair over.

In front of them stood an astonishing 17th century pirate captain, dressed in his grandiose red coat, his worn flat boots, his jeweled saber, his open ruffled shirt, the typical gold ear rings, the eye patch in the eye and the so characteristic captain's hat. His voice had been sordid and commanding and his eyes exuded the amusement and danger of a true saltwater buccaneer. Someone who, at least the European countries and some former colonies, recognized immediately. He licked his lips leisurely as he began to draw his sword.

- You're already singing if you don't want to die, you louts! What does this all mean? –And pointed the sword towards the large table full of perplexed countries.

The attention fell entirely on him, in a frozen moment of time, until someone else claimed it.

- What the bloody hell are you doing here!?

Then the newcomer pirate's eyes lifted until, surprised and interested, they rested on the emitter. He looked directly at England, dressed and mature, with an uneasy and confused smile. - I should ask you the same. What is this all supposed to be? –taking great strides and dangerously dancing his saber with that deranged look of his-. You better start spitting it all out if you don't want to taste my steel, you fucking bastard.

And England, still not fully recovered from his shock, tried to articulate something to calm the hotheaded just as the door opened a second time. This time, timidly and slowly.

- Eh… Hello? I'm sorry I'm late again, I've fallen asleep again haha… -from a newcomer Spain who nervously rubbed the back of his neck with an embarrassed gesture.

This intrusion impressively attracted the pirate’s attention. 

- You... –he blurted out, lifting the eyepatch to see perfectly with both eyes, as a wolfish grin stretched the corners of his lips and he screamed in exaltation-. On guard, you bastard!

And before Spain could even react, the subject came forward like a veritable bloodthirsty beast towards him. The ancient empire, instinctively, placed his body on guard against the imminent attack, which he would have been about to receive if it had not been for the sudden cry that devastated the room:

- SLEEP!

And the body of the said pirate man fell inert to the ground. England had conjured something to make him abruptly fall asleep. The boardroom was suddenly silent.

England and Spain looked at each other in shock.

- ...What the hell?

_____________________

 When pirate England emerged from the dark abyss of unconsciousness again, it appeared to be back at its home outside London. He blinked a few times as he growled and groaned at the post-spell pain in his tormented mind. He cursed the other England, the one from the future who had had such a naughty face, and tried to regain control of his body.

It was then that he was known prisoned. His arms were tied with a thick, scratchy rope to the back of the chair he was sitting on. He raised an eyebrow for a moment, really not very impressed, and later turned his gaze straight ahead.

The familiar face of his presumed captor managed to get an idle, amused smile from his lips.

- Scared that I might bite you, darling?

Which was quickly answered by a. – Dare to even suggest such a thing and I will hang you before you can take a step. –Which brought an even bigger smile and a greater sparkle in the other's eye.

There, sitting on the sofa, Spain was holding a rare article of paper with many hyper-realistic letters and images that he seemed to be reading carefully. But England knew better. He knew as the best what face this handsome jerk made when he was really focused, and the one he made when he tried to fake it. Catching Spain in the middle of that picaresque action seemed as charming as it was amusing, and he could not but fall into the temptation to frustrate him in his attempt.

- I do not know anything about the future, but just by seeing those whore's clothes that you bring, I think I would not mind being in your humble care a little more.

A vein was marked in Spain’s forehead who, honestly, had been years, decades…! With no real dislike for England. An insincere and tight smile showed his vain attempt at impassiveness. –This I am wearing is a simple "shirt", the type of garment that is worn today for formal meetings.

- Well, what a scandal, how immoral! With that tight-fitting blouse, I could see your nipples from nautical miles away. –To which, with a new vein marked, Spain jumped just at the time that contemporary England entered the room.

He carried with him a small silver tray with two porcelain mugs of Earl Grey and a few small butter cakes. His entrance surprised the other two. Immediately, however, Spain pointed at the captive and yelled at the newcomer. – Tell this uneducated you that neither my shirt is obscene nor am I a whore, now!

That sudden demand caught England off guard, whose first thought was to look directly at the named shirt, seeing, therefore, how the white fabric hugged and made the tanned skin transparent. He swallowed hard for a moment, which his other self took advantage of to act funny.

- From the familiar treatment that you two maintain I deduce that, very and at the same time not so much to my regret, in the future the Spanish Empire and I have that kind of intimate relationship. –Whistling at the sudden sight of a red and indignant England and an angry Spain-. In the bull’s eye, isn't it?

Making that this time, yes, Spain was so frustrated that he ended up pouncing on him.

The action awakened the green in the captive's eyes, amused to the core that he had finally made the future version of his rival lose his temper. Spain fell on him, a pair of strong hands and –although not as calloused as he himself remembered- still rough from the work in the fields surrounding his neck with accumulated resentment. 

He held back a smile.

- Ahh... I see that you are both quite rusted …

And, shocking Spain (who had still been trying to hang him), he broke free from his moorings and abruptly swapped positions.

England, from outside, watched in shock and without being able to speak as, in front of his eyes, his former self turned the tables and placed himself with the force of a beast above his current EU partner. Spain had fallen backwards and his hands had been forcibly captured on his head; he writhed like a sardine as he looked badly and –almost- growled at the one who just two seconds ago had been tied to a chair. Immobilizing his body, the pirate had mounted on him, leaving him unable to actuate any movement.

Looking indiscreet and almost with little concealed grimace, England glanced in the direction of present-day Britain. - Even a bastard child who has not seen more boobs in his life than his mother's would have loosened a knot that simple. –He growled, nodding at the untied rope lying on the ground. Making disgust, this time he directed his words to Spain under his grip-. Are you grossly underestimating me or are you so old that you have forgotten what you were capable of in the past...?

The three pairs of green eyes maintained that tense look for a few long seconds in which, little by little, the pirate began to change that tension for a deeper emotion. 

Darker and more penetrating eyes as they went down through the other's tanned build.  – Although I have to admit that this body is not that of an old man, no sir ... –taking the liberty of passing a hand from Spain’s chin to his tanned chest-. It's been a while since I saw this sinful skin so closely, I presume since 1588 …

And Spain’s eyes expanded in shock, while modern England’s nearly shook in bewilderment.

The apparition of Pirate Era England had opened something that had been buried centuries ago.

[ficklefics]

Who Needs Enemies - Chapter Three: The First Night

It's never easy staying still. But soon enough, boredom will be the least of everyone's worries.

Jerome Valeska x Harleen Quinzel, Jeremiah Valeska x Harleen Quinzel

SERIES MASTERLIST ~ MASTERLIST ~ CHAPTER TWO

Warnings: Violence

Another month went by with no word from Jerome.

So I let myself relax. I’d done my part, now it’s time to wait.

A hot chocolate, a pile of blankets, Puddin’ by my side, and a dumb movie. A moment to sit back and not worry about the rest of the world for once.

Then the phone begins to ring.

I try to ignore it, letting it ring into silence. Then it starts again. Groaning in annoyance, I pick it up, ready to shout at whoever is disturbing my peace.

“What?” “It’s Jim Gordon.” I sit up, confused. “Hi, Jim. What’s up?” “Where are you?” He sounds panicked. Behind his voice, people are shouting. “At home…” “Jerome has escaped from Arkham.” It’s happening. “He broke out, along with Tetch and Scarecrow and hundreds of others.” “And you think he might come after me.” “Yes. You need to stay in your house.” A car door slams and an engine revs. “Lock the doors and windows, hide.” “Okay, I will.” Not. “Thank you.” “Stay safe.”

As soon as Jim hangs up the phone is ringing again. This time with a familiar number.

“Jerome!” “The one and only.” A grin bursts onto my face at the sound of his voice. “Where are you?” “About. Look, did you get the address?” “Yeah, hold on.” I scramble up from the sofa and upstairs to the study. There’s a file sitting there with everything I managed to find. “He owns a restaurant in the East Side.” “Perfect.” His smile is audible. “I’m coming to get you – just need to pay dear old Zach a visit.” “Okay. I’ll be ready.”

*

I’ve been ready for an hour. Puddin’ has plenty of food and water and I have a bag packed with some extra clothes. For once I’m dressed appropriately for going on the run: combat boots, jeans, and a sturdy leather jacket – no more uniforms.

Waiting was torture so I’m pacing up and down the stairs. Every creak of the floorboards makes me jump. I guess I’m a little on edge.

I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I can’t tell if I’m thrilled or terrified. Maybe both.

“Boo.”

I scream and spin around, striking the figure across the face. Jerome stumbles into the wall and clutches his now-red cheek. “Hello to you too.” His voice is hoarse. “Shit. I’m sorry.” I do genuinely feel bad, but I also can’t help giggling at the offence on his face. Luckily he sees the humour in it too – as always.

But when he stands up, his face entering the light, I gasp. His face and neck are burnt, coated with a sticky substance. Soup.

“I’m guessing that means you saw your uncle?” I try not to overreact. Knowing Jerome, he doesn’t care about the injuries. “Yup. But he was waiting.” “Maybe Jim got in contact – he called me right before you did.” “Oh really?” He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “What did you tell him?” “That I would lock the doors and hide.” I narrow my eyes back at him. It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking.

At least until he breaks out laughing. “Good for you, Harls. I’ll make a criminal out of you yet.” He steps closer and takes my face in his hands, but before he can lean in I pull back. He pouts, clearly frustrated. “I am not kissing you until you’re fixed up.”

I take his hand and lead the way downstairs to the bathroom, smirking at his childish whine of “Fine.”

After spending hours with the lights off, turning on the light to the bathroom is almost blinding. But it also reveals that Jerome’s burns aren’t as bad as they first appeared. I pull out a first aid kit and look up at him.

“You’re too tall.” “You’re too short.” He counters. “No, I mean… I can’t get a good angle.” “Here.” Without warning, he grabs my waist and swings me round to sit on the counter so we’re almost face to face. “Is that good enough?” “Just about.” I begin cleaning the burns – just like old times. They’ll heal quickly. Jerome stands between my legs, watching me work. “You know, I can treat things other than burns. I wouldn’t mind a bit of variety.” “Am I boring ya’, Harls?” “Not yet.” I wink at him. “But you should be careful.” “Not really my style.” “I noticed. Now, open.” I tap on his chin and he obeys, with a roll of his eyes. The inside of his mouth and throat are red and sore. I grab a spray and use as much as I dare, holding Jerome’s jaw so he can’t squirm away. He tries to speak but it comes out garbled. “What was that?” I tease. He grabs my hand and forces me to release his jaw. “We need to get going. The Hatter got into a bit of trouble.” “Well, you’re all done.” I close the box and slide it away from me. “Let’s go.”

But instead of stepping back, Jerome places his hands either side of me, keeping me on the counter. “I think you promised me something, Harls.” He growls, his eyes dark and a smirk on his face. “I think I might have.” I grin and press my lips to his, revelling in the feeling. His hands grab my neck, holding me close, burning hot against my skin. I let myself fall into the kiss, closing my eyes and forgetting everything else but Jerome. “I thought,” I murmur against him, “I thought we had to go.”

He groans but pulls away, letting me jump down. “Unfortunately, we do. But first,” I raise an eyebrow, “I need a new look.”

*

We meet Scarecrow at the side of a quiet road that passes under the train tracks. He greets us with a solemn nod, dark eyes examining Jerome and me. To be honest, he freaks me out. His piercing stare sends a shiver down my spine.

“So, what’s the plan?” “Stop the van, get rid of the driver, head to Penguin’s.” Jerome shrugs as though it’s simple. “It’s nice to know your planning skills… remain the same.” I roll my eyes. “Come on, Harls. Three of us versus one cop?” He throws an arm around my shoulder. “What could go wrong?” “Let’s remember that I’m the only one here who hasn’t been arrested.” My eyes shift from Jerome back to Scarecrow. “No offence.” “None taken.” He rasps.

I’m about to respond when Jerome grabs the collar of my jacket and pulls me into the shadow of the buildings. The van is here. It rumbles up the road, jolting and coughing smoke.

When it’s just about to reach us Scarecrow steps forward, a dark silhouette in the centre of the tarmac. The van screeches to a halt mere inches from him. The driver steps out, angry and confused, and is greeted with a spray of gas from Scarecrow’s glove. In an instant, his face is consumed by terror and he runs off screaming. Jerome and I join Scarecrow, rounding the side of the van. The doors swing open to reveal Jervis Tetch wearing a metal mask, his eyes wide with excitement.

Jerome hoists himself up surprisingly gracefully. “How’d you like the new threads?” Stepping forward, he begins to detach the contraption from Jervis’ face. “Aw, speechless, I know.” It pulls away with a hiss. Scarecrow climbs up through the doors and I follow him, trying to suppress the feeling that I am completely out of my depth. As Scarecrow steps around Jerome to speak to Jervis, Jerome turns and winks at me.

Jervis and Scarecrow are speaking to each other. Distracted by Jerome, I only manage to catch the end of Jervis speaking: “I must confess, pure joy in besting Jimmy boy with our ploy!” He giggles as he speaks – Jerome may be insane, but this man is unhinged. “Yeah, yeah, you did a great job keeping Gordon occupied.” Jerome waves a hand at him dismissively. “Meanwhile, Crane got his fear gas, I got my information and my girl.” Jervis and Scarecrow’s eyes both fix on me. Show no fear. “And everything is going according to my plan. But, no time to palaver gentlemen. We have fish to fry.” He does a half turn, then looks back at them. “And, by fish, I mean faces… or feet.” He seems to be thinking long and hard, then waves his arms with a laugh. “Something fun to fry!”

Jumping down, he offers me his hand and I take it – even though the slight jump is nothing – joining him on the ground. “Buckle up.” He slams the doors and leads the way to the front of the van. I sit myself in the driver's seat, ready to go. “Oh, no way. My turn to drive.” I roll my eyes but slide over anyway. “Honestly, you crash a motorbike one time and no one trusts you with a vehicle again.” “Seems reasonable to me.” I shove his shoulder. “All aboard!” The engine rumbles to life and we speed off, Jerome’s gleeful cackling trailing behind us.

*

We pull up outside of an old building beside a sign reading ‘St Ignatius School for the Gifted’.

“Hang on, I know this place.” I lean out of the passenger side door and look up at the familiar building. “You do?” “Yeah,” I glance back towards Jerome, “I was supposed to be transferring here before we left Gotham.” “You little genius, you.” He ruffles my hair condescendingly. “That means you can give us the tour.” “Why are we here?” “Revenge, Harls. Revenge.”

*

We leave Scarecrow behind to keep watch while Jerome, Jervis and I sneak through the hallways. Nothing has changed in the six years since I was last here – a few more awards in the display case maybe.

Soft light glows from under the door to the headmaster’s office.

Jerome kicks it open, making the man inside scream. “Please don’t hurt me!” He whimpers, backing into the corner and away from an open filing cabinet. “Oh, hush.” Jerome waves a hand dismissively. “You know why I’m here.” “No, no, I don’t.” He shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes. “Please just leave.” “You’re really making this more difficult than it needs to be.” Jerome pulls out a pistol and spins it by the trigger haphazardly. “Xander Wilde.” “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” “You know there’s no need for this,” Jervis interjects. “Yeah, but this is the fun way.” Jerome grins as he points the gun at the headmaster’s head, inducing another flood of tears. “Harleen, mind taking a look through that filing cabinet there?” “Sure.” I step forward and begin rifling through the files. “Xander Wilde?” He nods. “And I thought I had the prize for the weirdest name in Gotham.” “It’s a close competition.” Jerome chuckles. I find the file quickly and pull it out. “Good girl.” “Please just leave.” The headmaster begs. “Oh, we’ll be leaving. Just one more thing.” Jerome steps aside to make room for Jervis, who pulls out a pocket watch. As Jerome grabs the file from me and leads the way out, Jervis begins to speak.

*

“Anything to report?” Jerome calls to Scarecrow who’s skulking beside the van. “Nothing at all. I take it the mission was successful?” Jerome waves the file and winks. “More than. Let’s get going.”

As we get in, Jervis appears, joining Scarecrow in the back. “Are we good?” “He won’t be bothering us.” Jervis smiles through the wire separating us. The van speeds off again, this time in the direction of Penguin’s mansion. I can see the faint glow of dawn in the distance. Jerome tosses the file onto my lap and nods at it. I pick it up. “So who’s Xander Wilde?” “Just read it out.”

I flick it open. The first page holds all the basic information. Name, date of birth, parents, and so on. The space where there would normally be a photo is blank. “Xander Wilde, 24 years old. Started at the school fourteen years ago and graduated valedictorian. GPA of -” My eyes widen at the number. “- Oh shit. Wow.” “Keep going.” “Top of all his classes, teachers thought the world of him. Quiet, studious, perfect student by all accounts.” I make a face. “Can’t relate.” Jerome gives me a look which I return. “Don’t look at me like that; I was smart, not a good student.” “Sure.” He doesn’t sound like he believes me. “Where is he now?” “Ummm…” I rifle through the pages of reports, of straight A’s, of extracurriculars. “He went to college, graduated and now… He’s working for an engineering company, Meyer and Hayes.” I drop the file and frown at Jerome. “Who is this guy?” “Let’s just say he betrayed me.” He refuses to make eye contact with me. “And he’s going to regret that.” “Okay.” I shrug – there’s no point interrogating him. If it’s to do with his uncle, it must be something big. Realising how tired I actually am, I suppress a yawn. My eyelids begin to drop, and despite my struggles to stay alert, I find myself falling asleep.

*

The world around me is burning.

I’m trapped in a room with no doors or windows, surrounded by flame. As I spin round, panicking, looking for a way to escape, the walls start closing in. Slowly at first, but as they get closer they speed up.

“Help!” I scream. But there’s no one to hear. “Please!” I fall to the ground, my knees knocking against the floor. “I don’t want to die!”

“Harleen!” My head flies up at the somewhat familiar voice. “Hello?” “It’s me!” A figure in front of me. He’s silhouetted by the fire. “Please help me!” It doesn’t matter who it is. I need to survive.

He kneels down and his face is hit by light: Bruce. At the sight of him, I feel myself ache with guilt. Why is he helping me? Why is he so good?

“Come on.” He offers me his hand.

I reach out to take it, but before I can make contact a splitting pain shoots through me. It’s as though I’m being pulled apart.

“Bruce!” “Harleen!” This time it’s Jerome’s voice coming from Bruce’s mouth. The pain only gets worse. I fall to the floor, writhing in agony. “Harleen!” His voice is far away, and yet right beside me at the same time.

“Harleen!”

Someone is shaking me. My eyes snap open and I lash out. Jerome is prepared for the attack this time, grabbing my hand before it can make contact with his face. “We’re here.”

I look around, seeing that the sun has almost risen and we’re parked outside of the mansion. “Oh.” I try to rub the sleep from my eyes, but I’m still exhausted. “Did I snore?” “Only a bit.” Jerome chuckles. “What about talking?” Hopefully, my dream stayed inside my subconscious. I don’t want to explain that to Jerome. “Nothing really.” He frowns, almost worried, but I smile, trying to convince us both that everything is fine. “Cool. Let’s go.” I slide out of the van and stride into the mansion. It doesn’t take Jerome long to catch up. “Where did the others go?” He shrugs. “They’re about.” A tall man is standing waiting for us. “Mr Cobblepot has instructed me to show you to your rooms.” He’s stiff, clearly anxious in Jerome’s presence. “Look, you go ahead.” He squeezes my shoulders and pushes me forward slightly. “I need to talk to Penguin.” “But I want to help.” I protest – even though I know he’s right. “You’re no help if you’re snoring.” “Fine. Don’t get killed again.” “No promises.” I glare at him over my shoulder as I follow the man up the stairs until Jerome is out of sight.

When we get to the room, I say thank you and immediately lock the door.

Next, the curtains. No light allowed.

I dump my bag on the bed and pull out a top, changing quickly and collapsing into bed, letting sleep overwhelm me.

CHAPTER FOUR

[steppesthetic]

I don’t really have a title for this one. It’s just the end of Yamamoto Taiga’s story in season 1 of @for-peace-war ‘s japanime game. It only really works after following along with a very dense tabletop campaign. But I was proud of writing it, and got emotional doing so. So I want to show it off.

In the afternoon heat, morning glories withered. Their vines, along with bitter gourds, clogged up the window as they sneaked up the side of the inpatient wing, forcing the light to filter through with a sickly jungle glow. Summer was coming, and earlier than last year. Time kept playing its games.

Taiga realized he’d slid the yearbook much farther down his lap from where he’d begun. How many hours he had spent glaring at one glossy page, seeing the warped dents of his and his classmates’ pens better than the ink used to write the messages themselves. Between them, fresher marks, leaving deeper wells in the page. There was no space for an unbroken line, so the kanji spilled out onto the page like rent innards. The results were much less poetic than he’d hoped after the almost choreographed haphazardness of how they were written.

garden of dying Wisteria there in she Made her last dance and I saw her lips move to extoll others…? No. 

Thirty-one characters made a poem much larger than this. The copy was already bursting at the seams and could barely recall a single moment crammed into the everything he’d written back at the complex. Just reading it cheapened what he felt that night, the last day of rest before the world all fell apart. More spilled out at the fringes, in ever more isolated syllables

Longing for death is masturbation ^ ??? What the fuck is that? Chaos…? An infinite number of universes? Wishing for an enemy is murder In want of one, I turn the pen on myself.

More general, like the original, but full of hokum lecturing. The hand holding the pen that offended him so whipped back and sent it on a vicious curve to the door. He immediately regretted it. Like a weak hand bolstered by gripping a sword, his deprived shoulder began to ache miserably in the absence. Hot shame rose up his cheeks. He couldn’t see straight. He shook from the effort to repress it before it welled up into something humiliating. It only shook more tears loose.

It was always Yamamoto Taiga’s greatest fortune in life for those females of his species to find him at his weakest and least appealing. So this trend was continued even in the better world to which he had been ferried when the door opened, a quick, confident step breaching the doorway before it hesitated.

“Tate... oh.” 

Though he avoided looking, from the sound of her voice, the way she stomped in, more like an athlete than a woman, and at the very least the name she used, he knew the source immediately. And he knew she could see. With desperation he rubbed his palms into his eyes, desperate to look sick, or groggy, or like someone worsening his eye strain--which he was certainly doing. 

“Hey, Taiga, if you need me to--”

“No!”

He almost shouted it, being much too quick to correct her assumption. “Uh--no, no. Stay, if you want.”

It felt wrong to ask her to continue this uncomfortable exchange, but his request was weakly worded, and it gave her plenty of opportunity to excuse herself. Surprisingly, she didn’t take the out. She stepped closer, no doubt noticing the unhinged scrawl before him and the glossy sheen on his face. Feeling brave, he hazarded a glance up. Annoyingly there was only concern. If she resented the way a grown man cried, she wasn’t showing it. He was grateful, and furious with himself.

She took the seat next to his bed, not saying a word. He could feel her eyes on the book. This made him feel defensive, and he slapped it shut.

“I’ve… already read most of it.” Chisaka tilted her head at him. She hesitated. Taiga could see she’d been trying to hold that remark in. 

In that moment there were remarks he wanted to make, too--like the last time he saw her, she was bleeding out on his bed, or like how she was good with a gun but hers was obviously shit. But strangely enough, other remarks bubbled up. Feelings, more than memories, like he lived vicariously through another Taiga. The Taiga he imagined holding a woman for reasons beyond her being on the brink of death. The latter won out.

“Is doxing me not enough? Yuu… idols are treated better than I am, right now.”

He could see a flash of something on her face before it settled into a more impassive annoyance, as she became her cool self again. “Wha? No, I was almost last in line. You can see. I didn’t have a lot of space left to write...”

“Ah… which means you saw my... fan club.”

She didn’t take the bait. “Are you trying to be subtle? Is this subtle to you?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about!” He felt a smirk and hated himself for it, but it was too strong to repress. This finally got a sigh out of her.

Chisaka closed her eyes and bowed her head, readying herself for a prayer. “Fine… congratulations on losing your virginity, Yamamoto-san. May your impending doom as a salaryman in a shrinking economy be relieved, if for a moment, by the warm touch of experienced hands in the only non-transactional comfort you will find in your adult life. I am happy for what nearly losing a knife fight, in spite of having a gun, has earned you.”

A silence followed, awkward and stunned, but Taiga did nothing to help. He could almost hear the deliberations taking place in her head, her wondering if she’d gone too far, asking herself why she’d chosen that line of attack. For his part, he was a little stunned. But as he felt the sting, there was also the sweet salve of how much effort she had to put in to fire back. He relished it like the slowly shifting green light from outside.

“Well… I was supposed to give you this.” She pulled out a notebook from her bag, flipping through the pages. “I guess your mother noticed you scribbling your little notes, but I should tell her that you’ve already made all the addendums you wanted to…?”

His hand snatched at it. He was fast; but to his cheek-warming shame, she was predictably no pushover in a tug-of-war. Even he could see where this would go if he really tried for it, but still he clung on desperately. To see a mother’s love and her child’s love for the written word converge in such a way was too much for him to handle. Besides, he was bored.

“You wouldn’t stand in the way of a mother and her only son, would you?!” 

She smirked at that. “... Hm. What were you writing?”

At that, Taiga was truly taken aback. Yuu must have noticed this, for her grip on the notebook slackened just as his did. “... Poem,” he finally said. There was little to say for it except that it existed, and yet it still nearly felt a betrayal to speak out loud.

Not given much material, she finally let go of the notebook. It was cheap and thin, and felt light as he flopped it on his lap. A thousand scenarios played in his head at once. None were realistic. All assumed she would know of what happened, of the way a woman looked at a man she was prompting to run her through, with no fear but dreadful resolve burned in her near-black eyes. Or that she was a girl from a drama or anime, or one of the more pernicious fantasies he’d spun in his head once those commercialized distractions had bored him, so full of self-denying empathy that she could read into anything she didn’t know, accept her limited place, and give him comfort. How could she know? Why should she care? And wasn’t this all so masturbatory? He wanted to remember the horrific events of a world which might as well have been some insane dream. It was unsustainable. Even thinking about abandoning those thoughts brought a fresh wave of heat to his eyes. He became vaguely aware of a voice to his right, but in front of him saw the silent horror of a 14 year old girl hearing a love poem read to her.

In that moment, he could see perfectly that he did not run away from her misunderstanding. Even then, he knew, she wouldn’t hate him or strike him for what he had shared. He saw in those eyes a vulnerability, a crack in porcelain, and something writhing underneath. Whatever he was made of (old, wadded paper mache) was breaking apart too, as he could see reflected in her. What child wouldn’t run away when presented with such terrible truth? 

The only thing to bring him back was the impression of a figure moving, and the dreadful promise that it meant. He snatched the nearest part of it he could, finding a smaller wrist in his hand. It didn’t resist him, but he clutched it like a magpie would its treasure. “--No!” 

A long pause. Yuu and Taiga both looked down to where they were stuck together. “... I’m not leaving.”

In truth, he could feel, she wasn’t. Her body warmed the space between him and the edge of the mattress. Embarrassment. Humiliation, even. If anything, he couldn’t let those feelings bring him to tears again, so he repressed them, shuddered. Every breath out felt like an exorcism, painful. After the third one he knew something of what he wanted to say next.

“It was a love poem. I wrote it for a girl in middle school. Weird, huh?” His cheeks were wet this time. His resistance didn’t seem to matter anymore.

“Writing bad poetry in middle school? No.”

“This is the funny part. At the end of all the bad things. Right towards the end. All I could think about was that poem, and the girl I read it to. She just… froze. Eyes wide as saucers. She looked--she was so scared. And I thought I’d… fucked it up somehow. So I ran. And tried to forget it. But all I could think about… was that girl, and the poem, right at the… end.”

Yuu groaned. It didn’t sound exasperated. More like she was working out a math problem, or finishing a stretch. “You mean, you were thinking of this poem when the knife maniac attacked...”

“Uh--yes,” was all he could say. What else? But there was something else. And after a retching impulse in his chest, it all came out, burning his throat as it went. “--And--and--she was so afraid. Like a deer, just frozen in front of me. I could see them in--in--in the shooting. In his eyes. She--he was just afraid, another life, and I could feel the jolt, I could feel the pain, I could feel the arms around me shudder. And you harm someone else and you think if it’s for something, and it’s meant to be, and it’s right, it should be rewarded, but it’s not. It’s simply someone suffering. And the least you can do is feel it--right? You caused it!”

The two memories merged. Both fake, both real. He ran through a mass shooter with an ancient katana. He saw Keiko before him, arms outstretched, ready to embrace him. He pulled the trigger. She was gone. He was a hero. A life lived beautifully, erased. A life squandered, made heroic. On this one action the world turned, the destruction of someone beautiful and good.

Her wrist had slipped out from his grasp, but in its place their hands were joined at the palm. She simply held it there, loosely. “... Who was the poem for?”

A final jolt. This time it felt like a relief. The last, lazy wave of the receding tide, but the furthest to reach in. She stood next to him on the bridge as they wondered, one aloud, one quietly, their luck in meeting again. “You’re never going to believe it…”

“Try me.”

A wan smile. It was almost comforting now, if it weren’t for all the pain needed to reach this point. He wiped his eyes. “Well…” He looked up at Yuu. She seemed to be gazing down with an easy calm, but unobfuscated concern, and… dread? He jerked his smile upward, apologetically.

“Well, Ka-ch… Yukimura Kazane and I have always enjoyed a… special--”

“--Hey, just remembered I need to go somewhere. Sorry!”

“--No! No! Wait! She moved out after that year. Don’t even remember her name!”

She stood up, but stopped there. He let go of her hand… but she didn’t let go of his. She sat back down on the bed.

“It’s… hard to make words out of why I thought about that poem. Even to you. But you remember the gun chat…”

She nodded. “Unfortunately.”

“I was deep in it. For a long time. I wanted to go out like a hero. Do something great, pay the ultimate price. Always about death, sacrifice. I wanted that great adventure before the world came crashing down. I craved it. And I got it. I got to live it. And the only thing I could think about… was that poem. The only good I’d ever done. Where that girl was. If she was safe. Happy. Loved. If you’d be safe. If the school... If I would survive. And now…”

There were more words, but they weren’t words. They were hardly even feelings. Hints of things that would frighten him in the future. Monsters under the bed. 

Yuu patted the mattress next to him.

“Hey, scoot over.”

“What--?”

“Just scoot over.”

He slid over to the far side of the mattress. Swinging her legs over, Yuu laid on top of the sheets. Separated, but not by much. The bed was certainly not made for two, even if neither was particularly broad. Her shoulder pressed against his. She looked straight up at the ceiling. A window A/C growled to life on the floor above.

“... You really cared about that bad poem.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“You tried writing since?”

“Not… not particularly.”

“But… yes, you did.”

He looked over at her. “Explain.”

“Come on. They might as well make those conspiracy sites creative writing credit. You made up your own share of bullshit over the years. I even remember some of it.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled.

“So… share your work with the class, Yamamoto-san,” she coaxed with a nudge.

“Kay. Two things. First, it’s the last story I made up. And it involves you…”

“Of course. I’m prepared for some hiki bullshit.”

Feeling encouraged, even emboldened, he thought of something and smiled. “Do you… ever remember someone who went by Ran?”

A pause. He could feel the pillows dimple as she shook her head at the ceiling. “... No? Should…!! Wait!” She propped herself up on her elbows. “He like, tried to neg some nudes out of me. A couple years back. When I said no he’d send me these pictures of strangled birds… and… fish documentaries?! For like a year...”

He was already laughing at the thought. The difference between fantasy and reality merged again. He could no longer tell which was real. Or if they were merging into a synthesis of realities. 

Willfully, he burned the steely face of Fujiwara Keiko over this muddled memory. The dreamy face of Keiko in the garden. The doe-eyed fear of middle school Keiko in the courtyard annex. They wouldn’t be forgotten. They couldn’t. But in other things… maybe, this world could exist on its own rules. Even independent of the soul who birthed it. 

But he lost himself. One more memory would need to be said out loud before it merged. “So, when I doxed you, and we met on neutral ground…”

“When I doxed you, and we met at the Green Tea Palace…”

“--Mm, yes. Anyway. He was there. Ran, in the flesh. A living, breathing, PSIA stooge. Tracking us for years…”