#but he has to let the world in. and that's a Tough Nut To Crack

[melliemell]

AAA OK, requesting Fyodor x his Mexican girlfriend, and how'd he'd spoil her, treating her like a princess. Mixing that with his Russian culture, And sharing cultural traditions/behavior and food,

I hope you like it! this was a wild ride of figuring out fyodor's character better

Fyodor Spoiling his Lover HC

The thing is… Fyodor’s emotions are a heavily guarded thing. He’s very unlikely to let his guard down enough to actually feel romantic emotions, instead opting for control of the situation to the smallest detail.

Man’s obsessed with predictability. Emotions are certainly anything but that.

Having said that, if Fyodor finds you of any convenience for his plans, well, he is completely willing to play the role of a loving partner far beyond your expectations.

Get prepared for chaos unleashed, babe.

Fyodor’s sense of normal human behaviour has long been discarded somewhere in between the centuries of his long life. And he does have a flare for the dramatic at times, so you’ll have to excuse him if he considers buying out an entire restaurant for your night out to be within reasonable etiquette. 

“A quiet, peaceful place to spend time with you is very dear to me, although I do apologize if it’s a bit over the top,” he’d say, smile in place as he regarded you with no true remorse whatsoever. Maybe a bouquet of flowers would win you over; he’d try to be more reasonable with that… this time.

And let’s never forget that statement from Asagiri that Fyodor’s the type to buy an entire country for his sweetheart. He’s generous like that. 

Fyodor’s quite traditional in his courting as well. He’s aware that it’s expected of the man in the relationship to take care of his partner; all the way from providing for them to ensuring protection (and he does have to be mindful of that, knowing how many people want him dead in particular). 

Fyodor’s a man of constant planning and action so staying in one place is rarely ideal. And keeping someone satisfied when you can’t be around them often enough brings about a challenge. So in comes his quite mindful gift-giving.

You see, he’s gotten very good at observing people to the point it’s barely any effort to understand their inner workings and desires. The moment he has you pinned down as an individual–he’d do and say exactly what you want of him just so he can have you wrapped nicely around his finger as you fall harder for him. 

Fyodor’d be perfect… until the moment you’ve run out of use for him. The mask would fall very quickly and with no remorse behind it. 

Unless…

Here’s the deal–Fyodor is a very tough nut to crack. Sorting through all the layers of deception and perfectly built walls of indifference will be one of the hardest things to pull off. 

But the man under all that would be so worth it. The loneliness that’s bound to reside within him would be the saddest thing to finally lay your eyes upon.

It’s likely you’ll barely even notice you’ve managed to get him smitten.

He won’t indicate in any way something has changed at first, being his normal self and keeping up the princess treatment as a safety measure.

But he’ll find himself coming up with more and more plans for getting you to move around with him. There will be notes of a possessive streak there, like trying to keep your favourite toy with you everywhere; that’s definitely what Fyodor’d be telling himself at least.

He’ll be quite unsure why he’d feel the need to call you sweet things in his mother tongue. It is certainly a romantic gesture, yes, but it had never crossed his mind before? But the sound of it now felt pleasant to his ears and seeing your confused but still smiling face every time brought an unexpected warmth to his chest. He’d hold onto it for hours, staring off at the ceiling instead of his computers. Just… thinking. 

Like opening a door to his inner world; the things that brought him some sense of familiar comfort. 

It won’t be long before he has you in the kitchen, trying his best to at least make you remember maybe one of his soup recipes from home. Extremely patient about the whole process, not really caring if it ends up botchered. So long as he keeps getting that same feeling of warmth inside.

Won’t even bat an eye if you tell him you miss home. Would find a way to readjust both of your schedules (you have the exact same one at this point, he’s not even ashamed) so you’d be flying back in no time. Rest is good for the mind after all.

Be warned–this man is not built for warm weather. Fyodor’s one afternoon walk away from a literal heat stroke. Mindfulness is cautioned.

Mexico has not been one of his typical destinations, but he’d be quite appreciative of the openness of the people there. 

Will absolutely not leave you out of his sight though, no matter what. Unfamiliar places are best left explored with caution, even if you reassure him you’d probably not have any problems here. He’d only nod understandingly, completely intending on doing as he planned either way.

Man’s stubborn, can’t change that.

So long as you went unaware of a few things here and there–all was going to be good. He’d sooner blow an entire nation up than let anything happen to you.

[theangelsheardyou]

Everybody talks abt the bakugous adopting toga, now get ready for: the togas adopt bakugou

They adopt him when he's around 5 years old, after an accident with his Quirk awakening heavily injures his mother, putting her in a medically-induced coma. His father isn't capable of taking care of a child after that, and katsuki is sent into foster care. Part of him has given up on the idea that his dad would ever take him back, but the other part is clinging onto the hope that his mother would wake up and find him. Wherever he is.

The Toga's foster Katsuki for a few months initially, which turns into a full year. Himiko, about 6 years old, likes the idea of having a new little brother.

(I've heard theories before that Himiko already had some other unnamed siblings since she's described as "the oldest daughter of the family" but to keep things simple let's just say she was an only child up until this point.)

(Also, I don't know whether this is canon or not, but while Himiko is her first name, we aren't sure if Toga is her real last name. But again, to keep things simple, let's just say that it is.)

Katsuki was a tough nut to crack, or maybe he would be if his foster parents ever really tried. From what we see in Toga's backstory, I assume they're not really there for their kids emotionally. As long as they eat three meals a day and have a roof over their heads, they've done their jobs, or at least that's what they think.

Katsuki and Himiko are left alone a lot. Maybe their folks are always busy at work or just didn't spend much time with them. Either way, the two become closer as the only kids in the house.

Now, canon Katsuki would probably be really judgemental about Himiko's gorey interests, but in this AU, he has literally almost killed his mother. He's in no place to judge and he knows that. No matter what crazy infatuation this girl has, it's got nothing compared to what was practically a murder.

Katsuki's a little more closed off at this age, kind of like in the canon storyline, but at age 5-6. Having lost his parents, his friends, and being put in some stranger's home, he's not the type to really show off anymore. He's hard to get to know, but Himiko never stops trying.

Despite everything, a bond begins to bloom.

Katsuki and Himiko are inseparable. They do little kid things like Katsuki going "watch this!" Before doing something cool and making sure his sister gets to watch, and Himiko cheers him on like he's just done the most amazing thing in the world. And to her, it probably was.

This is where Katsuki's show-offiness begins to bloom again. He loves showing his sister all his achievements. A perfect score on a test, an award from the sports festival at school, no matter how big or small he shows it to his sister who always cheers him on and encourages him to keep going. He works hard to get better at school, does well in sports, all to get his sister's attention, which she gives generously. She loves watching her little brother succeed in everything. Everyday she's so, so proud of him for something new. She's proud to call him her brother.

Katsuki's personality rubs off on Himiko, too. She starts to get a little competitive, especially when the two play against each other. Be it badminton, tennis, or even just a game of tag, these two are unstoppable. And there's never a sore loser because one will always be proud of the other no matter what the scores are.

Himiko also rubs off on Katsuki, more than she'd like to admit.

I don't think canon katsuki was ever the type to be grossed out or queasy about gorey things. He'd probably find dead animals on the side of the road and call his sister so she could check it out too. As they get older, he brings along a camera, so he can take pictures of all the bloody details for her to examine later. By now Katsuki has been legally adopted, though there still isn't much of a bond between him and his new parents. They are proud of his achievements of course, but they prefer to show him off at parties like a showdog. He prefers Himiko's way of showing her pride in him way more. It feels more genuine.

Katsuki and Himiko aren't exactly delinquents, but they do get into trouble a lot. Katsuki has grown to be a little more violent due to Himiko's influence, enjoying seeing the blood burst from someone's face when it comes in contact with his fist. After he beats someone up, he likes to take a moment to examine his handiwork. A broken nose, a black eye, a tooth landing somewhere, he finds joy in it. He's definitely more of a bully in this AU, not out of anger, but out of pure bloodlust.

At this point he hasn't heard much from his dad, but he visits his mom at the hospital now and then. He gives her updates on his new life, tells her about Himiko, and all his achievements. Part of him doesn't really think she'll ever wake up again. But another still clings onto the hope.

Katsuki and Himiko are middleschool outcasts. Weirdos. Freaks. They don't have many friends, but they have each other, and that's what counts.

Katsuki is still very into heroes, but he let go of the idea of ever becoming one. The shame from his Quirk awakening has left him afraid to use his own Quirk for almost ten years now. It's Himiko that encourages him to use it, calling it a beautiful ability that should be shared. It takes a while, but by graduation, Katsuki is dead set on becoming a hero. Not for money or fame, but for his sister.

Katsuki has also been very supportive of Himiko's interests from the beginning. In fact, he encourages her to become a nurse. After middle school she starts studying medicine, and by the time Katsuki's at UA, guess who's Recovery Girl's cute little sidekick/apprentice.

Himiko gets a front-row seat to all of Katsuki's high school achievements. She cheers him on from the sidelines as he wins the UA Sports Festival, while also treating all the poor souls who fought against him. This is actually how she meets Ochaco. A real meet cute.

She gets angry at how the awards ceremony went, and even got Recovery Girl to use her status at the school to speak to the teachers on her behalf. She's still pretty ticked off by the time they get home, and tells Katsuki to throw the medal away, but he doesn't. He keeps it in his room. It's a symbol of the first time in his life that someone aside from his sister acknowledged his abilities, his Quirk, as a good thing. Aizawa's speech during his fight with Ochaco was proof. After that, he follows his teacher around like a lost puppy, and in turn Himiko does, too. Now he's got two little blonde kids tailing him, and he just gets used to it at some point.

Katsuki's personality is a lot less angry and more a...weird kind of friendly. He got like, half a cup of bimbo-ness from Himiko, as well as a couple of her more tame friendly influences. But he does sometimes get a little too close, and asks questions very bluntly, sometimes offending or making people uncomfortable. But considering 1-A is just a mosh pit of weirdo high school kids, they all get along just fine.

Katsuki and Izuku reunite at UA. It was actually Izuku who approached him. Having missed all the middle school bullying since Katsuki was in another school at the time, the same one Himiko went to, he's a lot more confident. The two have a grand reunion and become better than best friends. They, along with Himiko and Ochaco, hang out together a lot in and out of school. It gets to the point that Ochaco gets a little too happy when she gets injured, knowing she'll get a free pass to visit the cute nurse at the infirmary. Izuku gets to join Himiko on the front row to all of Katsuki's victories, which assigns him as Vice President of the Katsuki Fan Club instantly.

I have so many more ideas for them and I kinda wanna draw/write more about it, so tell me what you think! If this gets very little attention my shyness and short attention span will probably shift me to something else😅

[bachiras-toaster]

teaching ranpo a lesson : ̗̀➛

RANPO EDOGAWA x f!reader

contents. nsfw dubcon, dom! reader, submissive!ranpo, tit sucking, bratty!ranpo, dry humping, panty fucking, ranpo tastes his own cum, pet names (reader calls ranpo “good boy” and “sweetheart”), reader jerks ranpo off, he eats reader out, praise

wc. 6.2k

a/n. okay but i wish tumblr didn’t remove my italics whenever i paste my fanfictions from another tab?? when is tumblr gonna start showing me the word count so i don’t have to write on other apps? so, just imagine the italics are there.

"Come in!" Ranpo called out when he heard a knocking on his door, and a pleasant surprise came his way when he discovered that it was you peeping your head through the entrance. "Oh, what a nice surprise!"

You shot him a cold glare before making your way into his room, slamming a pile of documents onto his messy table. You disliked Ranpo, so you didn't want to attempt making conversation, but he seemed eager to chat. Ranpo couldn't help but notice the chill in the air, but he brushed it off- as he always did, his eyes glinting with curiosity as he leaned over the table, examining the documents you'd brought.

"This is it?"

"Yep. All twenty cases that Kunikida has assigned to you." You muttered, crossing your arms as you watched him lean against his desk. "You have half an hour to solve them all before we get to close the cases."

"Half an hour, you say?" Ranpo chuckled softly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Very well then, let's see what we've got here." He began flipping through the papers, his mind already racing with potential theories and connections.

Watching as he eagerly dove into his responsibility, you turned to leave him to his work. However, before you could even face the door, he grabbed you by the wrist, a little dissapointed that you thought to go so soon.

"You're leaving already?" He frowned, pulling you back. "I was hoping you'd get to see my genius mind at work as I solve all of these mysteries."

"I don't have time to watch you solve these cases, Edogawa. And you know I'd much rather do anything else than stay anyway." You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you snatched your hand away. He scrunched his nose a little, irritated how you'd insist on calling him Edogawa instead of Ranpo.

"Still calling me Edogawa, huh? After we've known each other for so long." He pouted slightly, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Well, maybe I should try something else to catch your attention."

"Try all you want. I'm leaving." You let out a displeased snort.

"Alright, let me give this a shot." He interrupted your path towards the door, still holding your gaze. "I'll admit, you're one tough nut to crack... What exactly is it that you don't like about spending time with me?"

You arched a brow. "The master detective asking me a question?" You shrivelled your nose. "Now, I can't tell if that's rhetorical."

"It's not." He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "So, tell me, what's the matter with me?"

"God, you really are a piece of fucking work." You finally turned back to face him fully, pinching thr bridge of your nose as you prepared yourself for the rant of a lifetime- since he had been so kind as to ask you himself.

"Okay, first of all: You're a narcissist. You think the entire world revolves around you and that your ability is the best. You're lazy and irritating, you leach off of other people, and you refuse to do any work that doesn't interest you. And not only that, but you get kind people like Atsushi and Kenji to go out and run errands for you because you know they're too nice to say no."

His eyes widened at first, but his lips curved in amusement before he shrugged.

"Well, I'll admit to a little bit of narcissism. And maybe a touch of laziness. But I like to say that these kinds of things are what make me me!" He boasted, completely unaffected by your remarks.

Your eye twitched at his unfazement. "It's clear that nobody's ever taught you a lesson up until now, Edogawa. I would've thought that the boss would shape you up to be a decent person, but you're still the same, old egotist."

"Well, I'm sorry if I don't fit into your idea of a 'decent person.' But maybe there's something about me that you haven't quite figured out yet." He leaned closer, his voice lowering. "I don't need to be taught any lessons."

You saw how he attempted to take control of the situation, but you just lifted yourself up and walked over to him, backing him up slightly as you let out through gritted teeth:

"If it were up to me, I wouldn't let you walk around all high and mighty like the boss does" You had leaned so close to him that you were backing him into his bed.

"Oh really?" He challenged, his eyes glinting with mischief. "And what exactly would you do to make me stop, hmm? Torture me? The boss would have you kicked out in no time."

"You see, unlike you, I'm reliant on my strength outside of my ability." You pressed your palm against his chest and pushed him down onto his bed so you stood above him, your eyes glaring down at him. "And even if I wasn't, I wouldn't have the lip to talk back to people stronger than me."

"You're not stronger than me. You might have some physical strength, but your mind is weak. It's obvious that you've never encountered anyone like me before."

"Oh, I've encountered hundreds of narcissists like you in the past. The only issue with you is that I work with you." You flicked the button of his hoodie so it would fall off, leaving him in his button-up, tie, and vest. You pulled on his tie and leaned down so that his face was forced inches from yours. "What's a strong mind if you can't comprehend simple shit like shutting the fuck up?"

"I'm the one who decides what to shut up about." Ranpo grinned, his face inches from yours. His voice betrayed an unexpected level of arousal beneath his bravado. "And I'll never shut up, if that goes against what you want from me."

You loosened your grip around the end of his tie so your finger could hook around the top of it instead, pulling the tie off him.

"You're a brat, you know that?" You lifted your knee up to the side of his bed so that you started to straddle him- An action that caught Ranpo completely off guard because of how completely out-of-character it seemed for you to do, considering your rocky history with the cocky detective. His face flushed red as he glanced up at you, his pupils dilated and his jaw hung open just a little.

"What are you doing—?"

"It's obvious that no one's taught you how to behave before, and since everyone at the agency seems reluctant to, I guess I could fill that role." You glared down at him from the seat on his lap. "You're going to listen to me, and I'm going to turn you into a humble, hardworking, and kind detective."

"You're lying if you think that's possible," Ranpo snorted with a grin, his face flushed with excitement beneath your aggressive stare. Despite his protests, he couldn't help but be intrigued by the fact that you were actually willing to do something like this to the person you hated most.

"It is possible, Edogawa." You hummed. "And I know I can't hurt you physically, so I can torture you in some other ways." Your hands moved down to unzip the fly of his pants.

"Other ways?" Ranpo groaned, his face flushed red as he felt you unzip his pants and touch him through his underwear. "You... you're not actually planning to—?"

"Sh." You ordered. "If you want to ask me any questions, you need to say my name first. And be polite." You fished his erection out of his pants, which only grew harder by the second.

Ranpo's eyes widened, his heart racing in anticipation and fear, but he kept a fidgety smirk on his lips as he attempted to keep his composure.

"Oh, I have no questions. Just enjoying the show."

"Still quite the brat." You commented as you began to stroke the length of his cock, slowly sending shivers through his nervous system.

"Hah... well, aren't you just confident?" Ranpo teased, his breath hitching as he arched into your touch, his cock twitching eagerly. "If you wanted me this badly, you could've just asked. My door is always open."

Suddenly, your movements slowed down immensely, and your thumb swept over the tip of his cock, which caused a jolt. You glared at him with a deadpan stare, but kept stroking at a rate that was starting to get irritatingly slow. Ranpo couldn't help but growl in frustration as you teased him mercilessly, his hands clenching into fists beneath you, his breath hitching uncontrollably.

"Damn, stop it..."

"Stop what?" You asked innocently, swiping the collection of precum that emerged from his slit down to the base of his shaft, making it easier for you to stroke.

"God—" Ranpo's voice cracked as you swiped the precum, his body jerking slightly from the unexpected sensation. "You're not making this easy..."

"I wasn't planning to." You said coldly, leaning down to gather saliva in your mouth before spitting down at his cock to lubricate it more for your hands.

"Fuck..." Ranpo hissed out, his hips jerking upwards involuntarily into your hand, seeking more contact even as he tried to maintain his dominance. "Come on, let's stop playing games now. Stop teasing me..."

"Not with that attitude." You huffed, starting to speed up more at a steadier pace now.

"You... you have no idea what you're doing to me..."

"Oh, I feel like I know exactly what I'm doing... Does it feel good, Edogawa?" You asked in a babyish tone, like some sort of mockery. To that, his face contorted, a mix of humiliation and intense arousal. "Aww, what? Does little Edogawa like being the dominant one?"

"No— I mean... damn it, stop teasing me, already..." Ranpo groaned, his body trembling with the effort to maintain his composure as you teased him relentlessly.

"You're gonna have to ask a lot nicer than that if you want something. Have you no manners?" You went to grab him by the base of his chin by your left hand as your right hand slowly moved up and down his length again.

Ranpo gritted his teeth, his breath coming in quick, ragged moments through his nostrils.

"Stop teasing me... Please." He added, as if he were a a bratty toddler being asked to do something he really didn't want to do.

"That was a good start." You nodded approvingly. "Unfortunately, you can't undo bad manners with one good deed. I'm going to train politeness into your brain by fucking you until you can't take it."

"Don't be stupid. You can't train politeness" He spat back, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through him as you spoke; his hips arched up slightly, offering himself to you once more.

"Me? Stupid? But I can. Look at how you're arching for me right now." Your left hand began to travel down from his neck down to his shirt and vest so you could undo the buttons.

"Stop the attempts now... you're not getting me to submit like this." His heart raced as your hand continued to undo his clothes, revealing more skin.

"What do you mean? It's working." You hummed as you carelessly tossed his vest to the side, leaving him just in his unbuttoned shirt, which revealed his chest that panted uncontrollably.

"I'm not gonna give in so eas—ily." He gulped between his word as the pleasure hit him suddenly. His cock twitched in your hand, leaking pre-cum in anticipation.

"You will. And once we're done, I'm going to be the only member of the detective agency you'll listen to completely. You'll bend over backwards for me and you'll have the upmost respect for me." You stated as a matter of factly. "As for everyone else: You're going to treat them all with the respect and kindness they deserve and you're going to pick up your weight at the Detective Agency."

He seemed amused at your assertiveness, but his heart pounded relentlessly. "No one can control me like that. You're being dumb." He wanted desperately to pull away and give himself a moment to reassert his dominance to take control, but his body betrayed him, responding to your touch and words.

"You will." You pushed him back so his back laid completely on his bed, with you still sat comfortable on his lap. "And we'll start with tabletop manners. If you want something, you say 'please'. When you get it, you say 'thank you'."

"How do you expect me to apply that here?" Ranpo murmured, feeling both humiliated and aroused by your dominance, his body trembled slightly as fet your weight on his thighs.

"Easy. Like this:" You retracted your hand again, leaving him without touch for a moment. Once you had pulled your hand away, he felt a shaky breath leave his lips- Which was much less embarrassing than the whine he had suppressed. "You want me to continue?" You questioned coyly.

The man's jaw just ticked, and he looked back at you with the most unimpressed stare of the century. "Obviously..."

"Ah, ah, ah." You immediately tutted, shaking your head. "That's not what I just taught you. Try again."

You could see Ranpo'a eye twitch at your command, which made it all the more amusing for you when he finally let out a large sigh.

"Yes..." He whispered, hating himself for it but unable to resist. "...Please."

"Loud and clear. I didn't quite get that."

He felt like he was close to giving in, his cock throbbing in anticipation of your touch.

"Yes, I would like you to continue please." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Good boy." You teased with a delicate smirk, but one that could barely be seen through your glare.

Upon hearing such a sentence, Ranpo's eyes immediately widened at your praise, and his cock throbbed even more before you even touched it again. He squirmed a bit, his body aching for you to touch him. He knew he was being pathetic, but he couldn't help it. He was hopelessly obsessed with you. His face blushed brightly when you had praised him like that, and it was like such a reward was enough for him.

"I'm no genius like you, but I can understand you love being praised." You hummed sweetly with a stone-cold expression as your hand met his cock again to stroke. "I'm no monster, so I'll praise you when you do something good. That's our deal."

Ranpo gasped softly, his eyes rolling back into his head as your touch sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't believe how much he craved this from you, even though he knew it was wrong. His mind was a mess of desire and submission.

"When you do something wrong, you apologise and say that it won't happen again." You continued reciting the rules.

Ranpo nodded slowly, his eyes still rolling back into his head. "I...I understand." He said, knowing that he was giving in to you entirely. His heart ached as he realized how much he wanted to be owned by you, his hands needing grasped onto your thighs as he yearned to touch you. However, when you felt him on your thighs, you paused again, making him whimper at the lack of sensation.

"I don't remember recall saying that you could touch me. And I also don't remember you asking."

His face turned red.

"S-sorry...I just...I can't help it...I needed to—" He sounded desperate and filthy, his need for you was becoming more and more obvious as time went on. He cleared his throat. "...I'm sorry. It won't happen again." His hands retreated.

"What did I say you should do when you want something?" You queried. Ranpo swallowed hard, his heart racing

"A-Ask...I'm supposed to ask." He trembled, his mind a jumbled mess of desire and submission. He wanted you to take control again, but he also knew that he shouldn't give in to these urges.

"Good. So ask nicely." You offered. You realised how easy it was to get him to listen when your hands were around his cock.

"P-please...can I touch you?" He asked, his voice trembling.

"Touch me where?" Your brown arched.

"Your thighs... Please." He was practically begging now, his submissive side completely exposed.

"Of course. I can even take my tights off if that would make it nicer for you. Do you want that?" Your unoccupied hand went to stroke his chin, his eyes filled with need and desire.

"Y-yes, please...I want you to take your tights off."

You leaned your palms against the bed and hovered over him for a moment so you could pull your tights off your legs. He bit his lower lip nervously, his heart racing in anticipation as he made eye contact with you above him. Having your chest so close to his causes Ranpo's eyes to widen, but he knew that this was all for a greater cause, so he didn't dare to move. Once your tights were discarded of to leave your thighs bare, you sat back on his lap.

"There. Now what do you say?"

Ranpo looked up at you, his eyes glued to your thighs, which were now bare and exposed. His breathing was ragged, and his heart was racing. He could feel himself getting harder, aching for you.

"...Thank you..."

"Well done." You felt Ranpo began to knead at the softness of your skin at the same time you stroked him.

He moaned softly into the touch, his hands moving up and down your thighs, feeling the warmth and softness of your skin beneath his fingertips.

"M-more... I need more." He panted, his voice filled with desire and submission.

"Need more what?"

"More... of this." He said between gasps, his hands moving higher up on your thighs, brushing against the sensitive skin just below your waistline. "I want to touch more of you... Please."

"Like what, Edogawa?" You seemed bored with his lack of clarification.

Ranpo swallowed hard, his heart pounding in anticipation. His gaze flickered down to your hand, still stroking him gently.

"Your... chest." He croaked, his voice barely audible above the sound of his heavy breathing.

"My chest?" Your eyebrows raised a little, amused by his plea. "But do you deserve it?"

"I..." He cleared his throat, his body shivering slightly from the anticipation and excitement. His eyes filled with determination and submission.

"Do you think you deserve my chest?" You asked him directly now, watching as he trembled.

"Yes, I do. Please... I need you. I crave it. Please—" He begged.

"You don't need it. You want it." You corrected him.

"I... Yes, I want it. Please, give me what I want." He groaned, his body arching towards you, seeking out the connection he desired so desperately.

Your lips teased into a smile. "How about this: We do a little exercise to show appreciation to all of your coworkers. If you can say one nice thing about all of them, I'll let you hold my tits."

"A-alright..." He gulped, knowing that this would be difficult for him, as he wasn't the most expressive person when it came to compliments. But the challenge seemed fair- for the reward, anyway. "Umm... I guess Junichiro has a cool ability..."

"Ah- Stop there." You shook your head. "You need to sound more confident about your compliments. None of that 'I guess' shit."

"Y-yes, sorry." He swallowed thickly, trying to find the right words. "...Junichiro's ability is really unique and serves as a perfect defence for our team..." He let out a long, shaky sigh as he could still feel your hands wrapped around his dick. "A-And Dazai's intellect is incredible... It's almost matches mine." The final comment made your movements stop, which caused him to wince.

"No snarky comments either."

"S-sorry... I couldn't help it. I just want to hold you—"

"Not until you give all of your coworkers compliments. Say them. Now." You demanded.

"—'M sorry...! Uh..." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to think of something nice to say about each person. You listened as he continued to spew out more words of kindness, growing more whiny and helpless as he went on.

"...And Kunikida is great at handling the more technical aspects of investigations. He helps keep the whole team on track and ensures we don't miss anything. I really appreciate his contributions..." He could feel himself growing increasingly desperate as he spoke.

"Well done! Now was that so hard?" Your lips pulled into a kind smile as your palm ran down his cheek, which was flushed with a glowing pink colour.

His cheeks felt hot as he let out a shaky breath, feeling oddly relieved. "T-th-thank you... I-It's wasn't so hard..." he stammered, his heart racing as he anticipated what would happen next.

"Now. I'll hold my end of the bargain. Sit up." You pulled him over so you could read the other end of the bed. You rested your back against his pillows, allowing him to settle himself between your legs. "If you want to get a taste of my tits, you'll need to take off my shirt yourself."

His face was flushed and his hands were shaking, but he leaned over and gently pulled the hem of your shirt up over your chest, exposing your breasts to him. With a simple flick, he had unclasped your bra and discarded it carefully to the side as to not cast it too far away. His breathing was quick and shallow as he stared down at your bare chest, his hands trembling as he tentatively reached out towards your right tit, hesitating. He paused, not sure if he should go further. 

"M-May I touch?"

"You may."

With a mix of excitement and nervousness, he gently cupped your breast, his fingers trembling against your warm skin as his thumb swept over your nipple, his fingers exploring every inch of your soft skin. His eyes were locked onto the fat of your chest, and your eyes darkened at how eager he stared at your chest- the wat he fondles your breasts while licking his lips.

"M-May I taste now, please?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You may."

With a small moan of delight, Ranpo finally gave in to his desires and lowered his head towards your chest. His warm breath fanned across your sensitive nipple as he took it between his lips, sucking softly at first before beginning to tease it with his tongue. The way he dragged his tongue across you made it seem like he was trying to make out with your breast- He was so desperate to have it in his mouth. The delicate touch of his tongue sent butterflies through your stomach, and the small moaning noises emanating from his throat only served to heighten the intense sexual tension in the air.

As he leaned in closer, you could feel how his cock pressed between your thighs and up against your clothed cunt. As he sucked on your tit, he was pushing his tip up aright against you- Almost involuntarily, like he didn't even realise. Feeling the warmth and wetness that spread across his tongue, Ranpo couldn't help but become more assertive. His hands roamed up your body, seeking out your breasts, pinching and rolling the nipples in time with his mouth's movements. His cock pressed against you even more as he leaned forward.

But you held your hand against Ranpo's chest to push him away, and he whimpered as he lost connection with your nipple.

"Are you getting too excited, Ranpo?" You questioned, gesturing down to his leaking cock. "It seems like you're pressing up against me way too much."

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, filled with a mix of desire and defiance. He swallowed hard, his cock twitching against your thigh as he pulled back slightly, but not entirely.

"I... I can't help it.” He said softly, in an almost apologetic tone.

"It's like you're using getting to taste me as an excuse to get yourself off down there too." You let out a deep breath. "I told you, if you want something, you need to ask."

Ranpo felt a blush spread across his cheeks and neck as you called him out, his heart racing as he stared down at his erection. His cock throbbed again, as if eager to fill the void between them.

"I... I want to be inside you, please…”

"Well, after that, I don't think you deserve it." You huffed, to which Ranpo's eyes widened in shock and disappointment; there was still an undeniable spark of determination within them.

"Please! Please, don't do this..."

"How about another exercise then?" You suggested, causing his eyes to light up at the opportunity.

"Yes, another exercise...!" Ranpo breathed out in relief, his mind already racing with potential scenarios. He could feel himself growing even harder against his will. "What would you like me to do?"

"I want you to tell me how smart Dazai is... Without complimenting yourself in the process." You offered, watching how his eye twitched.

He bit his lip, thinking for a moment. There was no way he could take the opportunity to praise someone he knew he was smarter than, but he had to find a way to prove his independence.

"Dazai is... extremely intelligent.”

"Is that it?" You scoffed

"I don't know what the stakes are! I don’t know what I'm getting in return..." He grumbled.

"Good boys don’t ask for something in return. But, if you can compliment Dazai. I'll let you dry hump me and fuck my panties. That's all you get." You offered, but that still seemed enough to satiate his neediness. He seemed to hesitate at first, frustrated at his inability to resist praising Dazai but determined to find a way out.

"He is incredibly intelligent and... cunning." He added, knowing that even with his compliment, it would still be clear who was smarter.

"You can be nicer than that." You told him with another shrivel of your nose.

Feeling the heat between you two intensify, Ranpo let out a small groan of desire. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the intense throbbing he felt between his own legs. Contrary to popular belief, it probably would kill him to compliment someone else- but the reward was too sweet for him to care.

"Dazai is... Incredibly intelligent- An underrated source of intellect for the team. He may not show it often, but his strategic thinking is one that has saved our asses on numerous occasions.” He said it all with a grumble, not even looking you in the eye- But you were satisfied, nevertheless.

"Well said." You smirked. "Okay. Now you can take off everything you need, except for my panties."

With a mix of excitement and nervousness, Ranpo began to undress you, pulling your skirt off. He crawled further towards you, his eyes fixated on your panties as he reached out to touch them, his tongue wetting his lips as he realised his great achievement..

He steadily pressed his tip against your panties, the precum already leaving a wet patch on the cloth. He couldn't stand that the fact that he couldn't feel your pussy instead, but the panties would have to do. So, with a soft moan, Ranpo began to grind against your underwear, his cock begging for more as he felt your wetness against him, all while his other hand slid up your leg to trace soft circles around your inner thigh. He let out a low moan of pleasure as his hips moved back and forth against your panties with more force, feeling the head of his cock rub against your fabric, on the edge of what he desperately craved.

"F-Fuck..!" He almost instinctively whimpered out. Even you couldn't help but let out soft whines as Ranpo's tip just about bumped your clit through your panties- An action which only caused Ranpo more motivation. Feeling the warmth emanating from your body, Ranpo's determination only intensified. His hand gripped your thigh tighter, digging into your soft skin as he continued his relentless assault on your pant-clad sex.

"Does that feel good, huh?" You asked, panting heavily.

Heaving as he continued to pleasure himself through your panties, Ranpo nodded whilst gnawing on his bottom lip, his eyes narrowed down at the space below between you in concentration.

"I... I can't take it anymore... let me..." He pleaded, pushing against your panties with his cock. "Please-"

"Please what?" You glared at him, narrowing your eyes at his desperately blushing face, which had beads of sweat dripping down his cheeks.

He groaned in frustration, his cock poking at your panties as he panted heavily.

"Please let me have you... I need... I need... Ngh~!" Ranpo stammered swiftly. "Oh, god- Please! I'll do anything—"'

You seemed amused by his begging, all while he was still thrusting his cock against your panties.

"You ‘need me'? What do you mean by that?"

"I... I need you, okay? —Fuck! I want you!" He confessed- backtracking when he heard his own mistake, hips moving faster and harder as he pleaded for release. "I just... can't handle this anymore..."

"You want to cum, is that it?" She chuckled, brushing her finger against his chin.

"Yes, yes, please... I can't hold it much longer..." He whimpered as he continued to grind against your panties, his hips pistoning up and down in desperate need.

“God, please, let me cum… I don’t even care what I have to do this time…”

"My, my, aren't you desperate." You cackled at him, teeth sinking into your lip as you attempted to suppress your own moans at the tension. He hadn’t been bumping at your clit so much anymore, rather sloppily thrusted against your clothed hole instead, but the warmth in the action was enough to cause you to sweat.

"You cum when I say it's okay for you to cum."

Ranpo cried out, his eyes closed as he moved faster, tears threatening to fall from his lids as his hips slammed against your panties, need coiling inside him.

"Fuck, it's too much... I can't—"

"If I let you cum, will you be a good boy tomorrow at the agency?" You asked him simply, seeing how messed up and blushy his face became. "You're gonna be nice to your coworkers and you're not going to be lazy?"

Ranpo panted heavily, his eyes glossed over in lust as he nodded hurriedly.

“Yes, yes of course... just... just let me cum... please..." He pleaded.

"What did I say about speaking more clearly?" You demanded. He inhaled sharply with another thick swallow, gyrating his hips as he pleaded for you.

“I'll be a good boy tomorrow! No more laziness, I'll be so good! Please— I’ll be on my best behaviour, just for you— Fuck!”

You smirked.

"…Okay, you can cum then." You hummed, seeing how his tired eyes lit up with the permission.

With a loud, shuddering whine, Ranpo finally reaches his peak, his fingers digging into your thighs as he found release. With a shaky arch of his own back, his seed spurted between your legs, painting your panties with his essence.

"God, you're so messy." You sighed.

"I'm sorry... I can't help it... you're just too..." He gulped, his eyes roll back, revealing his submission even in his post-orgasmic state.

"Well, since I was so nice and let you cum." You grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced his head down a little so he was forced to look up into your eyes. "It's your turn to make me cum."

Ranpo couldn’t help but blush at your touch when your hand grabbed a bunch of is hairs, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm- but finding a new source of pleasure all the same. He whimpered softly, unable to meet your gaze as he was so fixated on your panties and how his own seed coated the fabric.

"C-Can I..?"

"I expect you to." You said darkly. "Eat up. And get a taste of your own mess before you do.”

He was reluctant, but did as you commander him to, tentatively reaching out to lick at your panties, his face flushed with embarrassment and submission. As he tastes his own seed, his face contorted a little at the taste, but his body tingled with pleasure, an unavoidable moan escaping him.

As his tongue dragged across the cloth of your underwear, he latched his teeth onto the edge of your panties, pulling them down slowly. When he had torn them down completely, it revealed your swollen, wet folds to his greedy gaze. The man looked up at you guiltily, his face burning red as his cock twitches in anticipation, leaking more pre-cum as he sees your panties still clinging to your thighs.

"Don't be shy now." You said, assisting him to fully remove your panties as you kicked them off to the side to reveal your glistening cunt. "I thought you wanted to taste me."

He nodded silently, leaning forward to taste you properly. He took a large strip between your legs using his tongue, tasting your sweet nectar as he starts to lap at your folds, his mouth exploring every inch of your wetness.

"That's it..." You shuddered as you felt his tongue inside you, finally feeling your own sense of pleasure. Ranpo’s heart raced with excitement when he sensed your enjoyment and he continued his assault on your sensitive flesh, pushing his face deeper into your folds, seeking to please you even more.

"F-Fuck... God, you use your tongue so well." You chuckle softly through your gentle moans. "See what happens when you use that mouth for better things rather than pissing people off?"

He hummed in agreement, his tongue continuing to wedge itself between your folds. With a groan, he licked harder, drawing your walls upwards, seeking to reach your throbbing center.

"You're gonna eat me out until I cum, aren't you sweetheart?" You grin, hands finding his way to his hair to run your fingers through the strands before stopping to grab a handful of it again.

"Mhm..." He moaned, his fingers twitching with desire. His tongue darted out, swirling around your clit, making you shudder as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. You had treated him so well that night, and he fully intended to return the favour.

—

The next day at the agency, Ranpo kept his side of the promise. For the first time— Possibly ever, Ranpo wasn't glued to his office desk anymore shoving treats down his mouth, instead, he was walking around and offering his assistance to anybody who looked like they needed it. It amused you to see him frantically searching for work to do while you were working on your own thing at your desk, pretending not to see his efforts, but you were glad that your intimate act with him didn’t go to waste.

"Would you look at that! I've never seen Ranpo so diligent!" Dazai commented to Kunikida, who was as equally surprised by the sight of the rare happening.

During the mesmerising scene, Kenji had happened to pass by Ranpo, which made him feel like he had been granted a glorious opportunity by the gods above. His eyes lighting up, the taller, brunette stopped Kenji in his tracks- Whom of which had been two boxes of files, tapping him on his shoulder with an awkward smile.

"Hey, Kenji, do you need help carrying that?" Ranpo queried with a hopeful gaze, to which Kenji stared blankly, blinking a few times.

"...It's a little heavy." He said softly with gentle beamed smile, trying not to offend him.

"Don't worry about it!" Ranpo reassured him, holding out his arms. "Where do you need me to take it?"

Upon seeing his eagerness, Kenji's eyes sparkled exponentially and he went to drop the boxes in his grasp.

"To the boss's office!"

Ranpo immediately felt like the weight was going to crush his arms when the heavy boxes had been dropped onto them. He struggled for a moment to hold them up, but eventually found his method to keep himself standing without feeling like his arms were going to break. After the wave of accomplishment had washed over him, he frantically looked over to you to see if you had been watching him with a hopeful smile— Which you had, of course, but your head was tilted down as to not let him know that you had.

"Maybe he's finally learnt that he has responsibilities at this agency." Kunikida suggested, staring as Ranpo uncomfortably waddled out of the office, the boxes threatening to break his fingers.

"I wonder what could've made him suddenly realise that though, considering he had never lifted a finger to help before." Dazai's eyes narrowed.

[wordbunch]

friends to lovers [Isildur] (pt. 1)

a/n: idk why so many of you are sleeping on this chaotic boi but i am here to start waking you up!!! DING DONG IT'S baby isil time besties!!! some fluffy hc's i have about him, by yours truly 😘 hope at least someone likes it and shares the love 💌

ft. my beloved @lady-of-imladris reading me to filth😂💛

honestly sometimes he is a tough nut to crack because he is Still Figuring Out many things, but his intentions are good

pure of heart dumb of ass

if he has a passing crush on someone, he will be confident and flirty and not care much

however, if he is reeeeally into you, he will be a stammering clumsy mess of a human

luckily for him, you clocked that and you find it endearing!

however i think he's an absolutely perfect candidate for lifelong friends to lovers story

you start catching on when you realize he is just magically wherever you are

sure, you used to spend time together before as well, but suddenly he seems to be following you like your shadow (not in a creepy way, more like following you like a stray puppy way)

at first you're a little suspicious and then you're just like okay, guess this is my life now

of course he could have other places to be but... he just likes being near you

you get him and you don't criticize him for every other minor thing and you give him simultaneously a feeling of complete freedom and perfect safety

also he became a bit more touchy feely with you, more inclined to give you a (long) hug, have a hand on your back, around your shoulders in a public setting and such

and you certainly grew to enjoy it - it was part comfort of a familiar presence, part excitement at such genuine, unapologetic close contact

after being friends who mostly got up to no good for years, or saved each other from numerous troubles, you started getting occasional glimpses into his deeper inner world

mostly during evenings by a fire or by the ocean when the only sounds are wind in the trees and lapping waves

every now and then Isildur would just let something slip, something intimate, something that had been unknown to you

accidentally or not, you weren't sure, but you enjoyed being his safe space, and you didn't push him to confess anything

okay when you sensed he was holding something in, wanting to keep up his fun-and-unbothered persona, you would prod a tiny bit, and he can't deny you for too long

that is how one night you found out that he feels guilty for his mom's death and unworthy of the sacrifice

you were alone after a group hangout on the beach; it was just the two of you sitting knee to knee under the starry sky, and undoubtedly those settings often lead to deep conversations

you held back a gasp when your eyes met his watery ones

hesitantly, but warmly, you cradled his face in your hands and moved his hair away from his eyes

he was looking at you like he was scared of being judged and cast aside

but you would never

"isil" (it was his weakness when you gave him a nickname) "you were worthy of being saved. and she would be proud of you today. please, don't ever think otherwise."

he scanned your face as if for signs of you being sarcastic or silly. you were not.

you just pulled him close and he all but wrapped himself around you, your hands in his hair and his face in the crook of your neck (you were uncertain whether he was crying but you strongly suspected it); you muttered words of comfort into his wavy hair as the fire crackled in front of you

(PT 2 SOON)

[deceit-and-knowledge]

Another diary/journal entry this time about pv and smilk, written by pv per request

cw: minor obssessive behaviour

Also date format used, day, month, year (blog owner is from the country that lost a war against a bird aka I'm not American)

Warning might be kinda long?

journal entry #xxx 5/3/xxxx

Dear journal

Today is the 5th day of spring so I took the time to sheer off the costs the cream sheep built up over the winter, it's still cold here. So I'm keeping warm by moving around and doing tasks around the kingdom. I stated many entries back that I was in possession of a particular blue cookie. Shadow milk cookie, his body is rather cold it's self so he'll be a wonder come summer. But that's not the point here. I am yet to write out about our complicated relationship.

He's a tough nut to crack. He's a cookie that's built up walls around himself so much it's hard to see through his feelings and emotions and true reason behind his actions. But I understand him.i understand his actions and why he's the way he is, it's true. We've walked similar paths. He's clearly been hurt in the past by someone, he's lost his sense of self and love, friendship and kindness. He was hurting so much that lies were something he discovered as a means of comfort.

I dread the idea that I nearly became that myself many times, refusing my truth for deceit. Deceit is like a forbidden fruit. Delicious yet bad for you. The truth is like a sour candy. Hurts you in the beginning but becomes sweet to you later. I'm glad shadow milk cookie is beginning to learn who he was again. Even if it's a slow process.

How did this occur again? He just showed up on my doorstep one day. He claimed to want vengeance and that I'm "nothing but a pathetic marionette on a string, he'll play like fiddle until I give up what I stole." So I gave him a whole speech about friendship and why I want him to accept it. He "pretended* to get it but I knew. He accepted it from the start. He came here already wanting my friendship but because he's so scared to be vulnerable he has to lie and pretend he's not "weak" or "soft" when really he is.

He has his moments of "weakness" where he allows himself to open up to me and even cry. He's afraid of being judged and while I wish he wasn't I understand why he is. He's the "master of deceit" the once fount of knowledge, I believe even a king. He has many important titles and roles and clearly played a huge role in this world's development. Everything he did had responsibility and immense impact. A cookie as important as that couldn't be "weak" or show "immaturity" let alone be submissive and just give in his emotions. A cookie that claims to be a master of all lies, that governs all truth, deceit and knowledge can't be shown sobbing. It breaks my heart that he can't let his walls break.

But little does he know I've been breaking them slowly, love and kindness is what he needs to build trust in someone to let them see him cry. See him at his lowest which is all the time. He hasn't had a high in maybe eons. I feel horrible for him.

I'm so glad to be the cookie guiding him, being his friend and making him happy. I'm aware he's harmed me, harmed my friends, some probably worse to others. Elder faerie gave up his life to white lily cookie so she could stop shadow milk cookie. Remembering that gorgeous faerie form she took makes me feel. Strange.. she looked pretty, yes but now when I look back I feel nothing. I don't feel love the way I do. I suppose I no longer possess feelings for white lily cookie. I still love her as a friend however, besides. Our paths stray much different from one another. A relationship with her would stop one of us from being happy and feeling fulfilled. I want her to be happy and if that means our paths don't align I accept that.

Admittedly my previous behaviour about her was rather concerning. A giant lily garden made from mourning isn't normal. I recognise that. It's always been an issue for me, I get so overally attached to something or someone it makes me feel ill not to have it. I'm addicted to the scent of lillies. I know. It's a problem but now I'm slowly developing a particular fondness for the milky scent of milk crown flowers. Yes. It means exactly what you think it means.

But at least it's not one sided. I see right through that liar. He's so obvious about it but I'm unsure how much longer I can wait for his walls to break down enough he admits it to me and tells me his feelings. I love shadow milk cookie. I understand him and care about him more than I've cared about the other heroes, white lily cookie and the kids. We even literally share a soul in a way. Could that be anymore perfect? Our paths align perfectly, it's mere fate. I never thought it would be this way but he's just like me. Despite the past, I want to move past it and show him empathy for his hurt. I hate to sound so enthralled despite the past but the thrill rubs me the right way.

He's still cruel but it's kinder now. He calls me names but it's because he's scared to admit how he truly feels, luckily I get it. He doesn't think I do. For the once fount of knowledge, he's not great at realisation. It's quite humorous. He doesn't even realise how much I admire him. I can't help but stare, those silly blue eyes pierce right through me, he even likes the same things as me. Yes I'm gushing. I love the thrill, I love watching a cookie so angry with life finally smile. Learn to care about someone that's not him, today he yelled at me for not eating. Before he'd just point it out and pout but today he screamed at me. He was so worried about me he used his little strength to cook. He then threw a pie at me but it's the thought that counts. Can't be too kind now can he?

every moment with this cookie feels amazing all over. I need him, I'm getting quite impatient. I need him all over me. I want to be.

tomorrow i plan to take him to do some gardening, last time he offered me a flower and it was so sweet. I love watching him warm up to me. We've gotten so far and there's no going back now. This cookie will forever be my dear friend I met through strange means but he'll forever be important to me as a show of my compassion.

I must sleep now. Tomorrow I will write again.

[emilvr]

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° boyfriend spencer !

oh lord have mercy this man is sooooo ( ∩ˇωˇ∩)♡all my boyfie spencer thoughts in one place.. <3 this man deserves a happy ending and if cm won’t give it to him i certainly will!! click the link 4 a surprise … & also send me ur spencer reid thoughts before i collapse!!

warnings: just swearing/slight suggestive tones (like smooches..) and gender neutral reader i think !!

spencer, at least— according to derek, is a tough nut to crack. he doesn’t trust easily at all, and the fruits of your labour may not actually show until years down the line. but if there’s one thing about him you could never doubt, is his loyalty to not just you, but his entire team. especially when he tells you, “i’ll do anything you need me to. always.” and the earnest tone he whispers it in, his brown eyes flickering up to meet your [e/c] ones. the soft, glowing warmth of the love of a thousand lifetimes burns bright in his irises and you will find that you simply don’t care how long you have to wait for him to allow you to hold his heart in your hands.

he may not say i love you in the traditional sense; but it is as clear as the turning shades of the leaves in autumn. it’s clear in how he wants to know everything about you: the things you deem mundane and unimportant, the things that make you embarrassed and the things that make you avoid his eyes as you grin childishly. it’s clear in the way he remembers everything, which isn’t all that surprising given:

“did you know i actually have an eidetic memory and an iq of—“

“187. yes i know, spence. what a smart cookie!”

(in response, he flushes always when you coo the words ‘smart cookie’, although in the same breath he will stare at your face and whisper ‘angel’ in your ear like you’ve been sent down from the heavens just for him.)

he treats you like you’re made of delicate rose petals, and a touch that is too forceful will cause you to wither away. his lips graze your cheek gently in a kiss, his fingertips softly pet the top of your head and slowly follow the curve of your cheeks to the slope of your nose. and when you giggle and go “that tickles,” he’ll only grin in response and nestle his nose into the crown of your head and hum knowingly.

although, most infuriatingly, he will not make the first move. now, doesn’t mean he won’t drive you absolutely insane with soft smiles and eyes full of love and want. he puts all of shakespeare’s sonnets to shame, truly. he keeps it up until you break and march over to his apartment with wobbling lips and twinkling irises (and emily’s encouraging “go get ur mans!!!! GET HIM!!!!” text on your phone. her, jj and penelope are the worst enablers ever.) and even then, he stands still (like the whole world has come to a standstill, really) and waits for you to utter the words. he waits, quietly and patiently. his attention is on you.

“it’s okay. you can say it.”

“you’re torturing me here.”

“am i?”

“‘am i?’ i will pretend you never said that, smarty pants. you infuriate me.”

“ooh, big words.”

“hey! i can talk fancy too!”

“mhm, i’m sure you can angel.”

“not fair. i love you, by the way. more like adore you. or any other word you can think of.”

“i can think of a few.”

in the before, he may tease you when you put a hand on his shoulder or trace the outline of his knuckles; but don’t let the teasing trick you. spencer is atrocious. a mess, even— without you. when you get pulled into a case three days before him, he spends the three days with absolutely zero sleep. and when jj and emily (knowingly, grand masterminds!) ask him if he’s doing okay, he just barely grumbles out a: “i can’t sleep without them anymore. feels cold. not right.” jj awe’s at him and clutches her hands close to her chest, whilst emily barks out a laugh and goes “oooh he wants them baaaaad!”

the grumpiest thirty-something year old man you know, by the way. smug as shit, too. lays with you in bed, head on your stomach as you call him pretty.

“but am i the prettiest?”

“oh, absolutely, my love. there is not a man in the land prettier than thou!”

“ … -__- can you ever give me a normal reply.”

“hehe.. absolutely not.”

henry knows all about you. against his will. someone save this boy he knows your birth date and time of birth down to the hour. knows your big three against his will. (despite the fact that spencer says astrology “isn’t scientifically accurate” … my when i’m in a big ass loser contest and my opponent is in-love spencer walter reid….) spencer puts henry to bed and starts rambling:

“the other day, [y/n] and i were in the kitchen and it suddenly hits me how effortlessly beautiful they are, i mean seriously, i feel sick th—“

“uncle spence. please. i want to go to sleep. i’m gonna call mama.”

“not your mom. please.”

(he tells jj and will when they get back from their date. you wake up to 23 text messages from jj saying “marry this nerd please henry can’t do this anymore!!!”)

also may i propose: classical music lover spencer, rock music lover emily, pop music lover jj and [y/n]. spencer absolutely gives you shit for your music taste and jj threatens him by saying she’ll marry you before he does. he goes pale at the thought. goes even paler when jj starts calling you “her darling baby” … your whole relationship is tug of war between jj, emily and spencer. spencer won’t try tug of war with derek like ok whatever you say handsome!!!

also, there have been many times spencer has woken up in the morning and reached his hand out to stroke your cheek and give you a kiss, when halfway he opens one eye and sees either jj or emily sleeping behind you. he’s the third wheel. in his own relationship.

and it’s all great until you give emily or jj too much attention and he starts sulking at home like… bitch you are in your thirties. and then you have to kiss all over his face and jokingly (or not???) call him your ‘pookie’… he sticks his tongue out and goes ‘bleurgh!!!!!” but we all know he loves it. silly scorpio man is fooling no one.

also read: candid photos of him where he always looks good ??? and when you mutter “you make me sick.” he takes it seriously and you spend the next week buying him his favourite donuts and kissing him until his cheeks go pink. most dramatic man ever!!! now does he pretend to be upset so you kiss him all the time… who knows.

he also places his forehead on yours when he gets overwhelmed and can’t calm down. and starts giggling when you go “helllooooooo!!” but in like, the way where your voice hits several octaves. a very, very giggly boy around you. and he also always has cold hands, and goes “oh no sweetie looks like i have to hold your hands!” (emily makes a gagging sound)

but truly, he is the softest man /ever/. when you two lay in bed at night and he leans down to kiss you, he goes so slowly that his eyelashes brush against yours and your chest starts to throb with how fast your heart is beating. he leans forward slowly and the kiss he presses to your lips is so soft that you squeeze your eyes closed because looking at him sends you into cardiac arrest. doesn’t kiss you much in public, but the way he looks at you makes up for it. eyes crinkled in the corner, brown irises reflecting your beauty as if you’ve been blessed by aphrodite herself. his chest lifts and trembles slightly, index finger twitching with the need to hold yours <3 (emily catches him in the act and she grins, then goes ‘booooo’ and cackles how he’s ‘whipped’ — which makes derek’s head snap up.)

also he absolutely calls you bunny and pretty like no one say a word to me… bunny is the cutest term of endearment ever im gonna throw up and throw myself down the damn stairs!!!

&&— marriage is absolutely in the cards for you two. he looks down at you, chin tilted, and he can’t imagine a future where he doesn’t watch you style your hair every morning or watch you grumble over a stain that won’t come out of one of his cardigans. (“spence, baby, you got anymore sweaters that need washed? i’m putting a woollens wash on!” and he blushed a soft fuchsia and has to resist the urge to cradle your face in his palms.)

although he has faced many tragedies and painful memories in his life, you’re his solace. the pain of his father leaving, his mother’s illness, prison, his drug addiction— you provide him with the normalcy and soft, angelic happiness that makes him smile until his cheeks hurt.

spencer (look at the absolute beauty i pulled by being an autistic nerd) walter reid <3

[moonspirit]

A question has been on my mind lately, you see, since I saw the Shingeki movie on the 13th, now I'm re-reading your entire series (they will imprison me for not being able to release Shingeki at once) so, it occurred to me to think, how did Annie's father end up being aware of the Aruani relationship?

Hellooo helloooooo long time no see, how are you???!!! T_T Sorry for the late response, but I'm happy to see you back here!

First off, congratulations on seeing the movie! I'm envious xD Everyone who's watched it says it was a fantastic experience - I hope you had a good time too :3

As for your question... hmm, thinking about it, whether or not Aruani get together immediately after the rumbling, Mr. Leonhardt would figure it out on Fort Salta lol xD Those sad, longing gazes aren't fooling anybody.

I have a love-hate relationship with... Mr. Leonhardt's relationship with Aruani tbh. I don't believe he's the type to interfere outright. I don't think he'd "dislike" it per se. But I also don't think he'd like it, y'know? He hasn't seen his daughter in years and the person he thinks she is, she now very much isn't. For all of Armin's brave show of stopping Muller from shooting at the Eldians on Fort Salta, I can't somehow see Mr. Leonhardt as being convinced with Armin's outlook of the world. There's a reason Annie's very harshly realistic with her worldviews and while she may have softened up in the company of people who care about her, Mr. Leonhardt isn't an easy nut to crack.

I like to think he worries Annie will be letting her guard down around Armin and the others (RIP he doesn't know she already has) and for this reason he sometimes talks derogatorily of the Paradisian boys. There's some fear here, of potentially losing his daughter to strangers he doesn't want to trust, and all the more so because she's still the only one he has. There's some fear also, in watching his daughter smile and laugh and play with the others, displaying parts of her he wasn't aware even existed - and so coming to terms with the fact that the tough girl he raised is not who Annie is, is going to be a hard thing to accept, if ever.

TLDR, it's very complicated, but from a VBEOW perspective I am quite enjoying exploring Annie's relationship with her father!

Thank you for the ask T^T Please do let me know how you've been!

[voidcat]

Serval Landau is a tough woman to love, but loving her you do without a thought.

Known around pretty well in her circle of status, a brilliant mind and a dazzling talent, she blinds you with her shine the moment your eyes land on her.

As hard nut to crack as she can be, you find it almost too easy; every crook, smirk and blush of hers captivating, her passion making her all the more endearing.

It leaves the person drunk, to have Serval Landau look at you the way she does. Victorious. On top of the world, how the first architects of Belabog first must’ve felt, if you’re being honest with yourself.

Living in the present is easy, conjuring what the future might bring a fun activity to pass time, yet you don’t expect the past to come and crash everything down, burn it all to smithers with a snap of fingers.

It happens too naturally, a little comical or so to speak. A woman of her caliber, it is no surprise to hear of her past achievements, occupation and research, nor the people she were with, the branches she worked closely within. Cocolia Rand’s name is repeated often and how can it not be? The late architect of Belabog, some still remember her for all the good, show understanding for her sacrifice, others choose to resent her and how she never listened to anyone.

In the dim lighted pub, you don’t quite catch Gerard until he vanishes from your sights yet from the force of his hand you can tell he had a little too much. He lets out a hearty laugh, a sigh of relief, throws you a congratulations and celebrates you on your victory. Mouths a little here and there how long it took Serval to move on, from the Cocolia Rand; the woman whose name is tied to Serval’s whenever it is the past people lament.

You feel chills down your spine, yet your smile remains frozen in the spot. He lets out how in the last moments she reclaimed closure in her own way— “I am no longer in your shadow.” Gepard recalls the phrase.

“Here now big guy, why don’t you sit down and brea—“ and before you can finish, he is nowhere to be seen.

Now you see, you know Gepard, and you know in everything he does, he always means the best, but maybe, just maybe, you wish the goody two shoes of the family had a little more experience with alcohol, sparing you from the obvious truth that’s been in your face since the very first days of your dream relationship.

Serval Landau is no longer in Cocolia’s shadow.

But you are.

Doomed to be.

Because you see, it was her first big everything, love and heartbreak, affection and hate, tension and excitement— the woman who robbed Belabog and the underground, left it sinking in the eternal snow, continues to rip apart anything good remaining, separating, even in her death.

And you have to live the rest of your days in your lover’s embrace, forever hidden in the shadow of her ex. In your steps, it’s her heels that echo against the tiles, in your smiles, she always recalls her good old times, every kiss, every edge and crook of skin, every kiss plastered, you’re haunted by the reminder of her ghost cast over your flesh, beating heart.

To those close to her, she has obtained her long deserving closure.

Serval Landau claims she is no longer in her shadow but you know that’s a lie.

And you spent every night dreading, will it be tonight she calls out the name Cocolia

[einloukrativesangebot]

March 2024 Destiel Fic Recs

My favourite fics written in March 2024. Please leave kudos and comments for the authors.

Baker Six by komodobits

Summer, 1944. Dean doesn’t think about First Lieutenant Novak.

Feel It All Around by egravis

With Cas newly fallen, a lot of things have changed. Like, for one, Cas has never appeared so fragile before.

I hate you when Sam sees it (and love you when he doesn't) feat Bobby Singer by FreyaBlackthorn

Dean and Cas love each other in the dark. They hate each other in front of a freshly soul-supplied Sam. It's that easy.

Except it's not easy, because Sam may be a Winchester, but even his stupidness knows bounds. So how can you make your little brother believe you are totally not interested in your feathered best friend (who is totally your boyfriend, for the record)?

Bobby makes a guest appearance because he's the best, and because he cannot be fooled.

Never Let Me Go by K_A_Mindin

Found the place to rest my head

Personal Jesus by GreenEnthusiast

Dean has made a nasty habit of calling out to Castiel in the dead of night, when he’s all alone. Repressed feelings and a case of beer are quite the duo, one the Winchester is no stranger to. All he wants is to love and be loved, but he’s not sure if he knows how.

The Space Between The Trees by birdyedwards

The point was that Cas fell out of that barn and right into Dean’s life like he’d always belonged there. Like there was a Castiel-shaped spot missing somewhere and he’d slotted right into it. Over the past several months, the two of them haven’t been apart for more than a couple hours and Dean wonders how he ever went on without him. How it was even possible that Cas hadn’t been there the entire time.

- + -

The thing no one tells you about hunting is that it’s surprisingly boring. Having Cas around helps.

touch and go by stayawake

Cas comes equipped with enough angelic strength to fling demons against the wall with a flick of his wrist, but still lets himself get pushed and pulled around by Dean like it's nothing.

a happy ending in the palm of your hands by all_american_hips

It has been three months since the world was saved.

-------

Everything is finally in its place, and Dean tries to get his shit together.

An angel walks into a flower shop... by FreyaBlackthorn

This is literally a pinterest post turned into a silly fic. What would happen if an almighty angel walked into a flower shop to buy his serial killer of a boyfriend flowers? (feat Sam, because let's be honest, he would probably be there and be a little gremlin about it).

love in messages by DeanIsABottomDamnit

The relationship between cas and dean seen through texts, through the years

inhuman/human by Xxcxreyxx

Stuck in Purgatory, Castiel has time to think.

devastating, apocalyptic, & utterly catastrophic by aalienbluezz

And that was it. Cas was done. So done. Why on Earth would he read this ridiculously inaccurate folklore when he could just look at Dean’s adorable face. And eyes. And his pretty, pretty mouth. Cas was about two minutes in to remapping out each atom of Dean’s devastating cupid’s bow when Dean finally piped up with that same strange look and a self-conscious laugh: “Uh, I got crumbs on my mouth or somethin’?”

or,

Cas introduces Dean to the wonders of Chapstick.

the gone fishin' fic by the_oncoming_stormageddon

Dean and Cas have been dating for three months, but Dean isn’t sure that he’s ready to come out yet. Meanwhile, Bobby’s known they’ve been dating for six months.

A Tough Nut To Crack by ImYourHoneyBee

The cold is worse, bad enough that their comfortable moss insulation and leaf doorway don’t keep it out, and despite his thick winter coat, Dean is freezing. On the other side of the nest, Cas is curled into a tight ball, his tail flipped over his nose like a blanket. Dean wonders if he’s cold too.

It’s dark inside their nest, almost pitch black with how the maple leaves block out the starlight. Cas is nothing but a lump, but Dean bets that if they were lumps together, they’d be warmer. It’s not gay if they’re huddling for warmth, right? It should also be taken into account that they’re squirrels, and he’s pretty sure it’s not gay if they’re squirrels, either.

Dean is suffering because he’d insisted that they be two squirrels sleeping on opposite sides of the nest, five inches apart because they’re not gay.

Morning After by lizleenimbus

Dean wakes up after a one-night stand only to find something - or rather someone - he didn't expect.

It's the first month of @deancaspinefest posting, so check those fics out here if you want some long fics of Dean and Cas pining for each other. And please do read my fic "Not our kind of thing" here.

Check out the other posts:

January, February

[hidelias]

A bend in space-time Season 1 - [Chapter 1: Caught in a spiral]

Chronological markers: this scene fits like a deleted scene from season 1 episode 1, around 10:00. TW : Drug abuse - Addiction

Suggested soundtrack : The kinks - Picture book

---

March 23, 2019 - 08:32 pm

One by one, the soles of my old boots screeching a little, I climb the stairs in the neon light of this old building of The City. A northern city, by the Lakes: icy in winter, rainy in spring, humid all year round. With high skyscrapers surrounded by eclectic low-rise buildings: Edwardian, Arts-and-Crafts or more ordinary, like mine. Around the corner, the vast Argyle Park seems to be dozing: at this hour of the evening, even though it's now spring, the night is already pitch black.

My family has lived here since I was a child, and the smell of this stairwell has never changed in over twenty-five years: that of the first-floor neighbor's soup, of household detergent, of the cog grease of the elevator I never use. I could go much faster to reach my bed, for sure, but there are certain 'details' about my life that I've somehow managed to hide from the neighbors, and I'd like to keep it that way.

As my key turns in the lock, I sigh. It's been a tough day at work. There are days like this at the hardware store, when absolutely everyone seems to need 12-gauge nuts. The door opens quietly, and I throw my keys into the bowl on the hall cupboard. My grandmother isn't here: she's playing bridge. One of the few hobbies that makes her switch off her TV.

The entrance light flickers as I turn it on, but I look up and it eventually steadies. Tired, I'm about to take off my jacket, which has my name - Rin - tagged on it, but something catches my eye on the console. A piece of paper, typical of The City's telecommunications. I frown, taking a closer look.

The last thing I expected tonight was a telegram. Least of all a telegram from Klaus, because he never sends any. In the narcotic state he was in the last time I saw him, he seemed incapable of even approaching a telecom station, and this worries me all the more. So, I reach out… and unfold the leaflet.

The message begins with 'My father is dead, please come and stay for a while', then gets lost in words I don't understand.

My eyes widen and I freeze for a moment, as if the gears of my brain have just stopped. I reread the block letters over and over again, then sigh. Great. I sigh again. Shit. Crack! In a flash of bluish light, I disappear from the entrance, teleporting straight to the bus stop downstairs, without a second thought.

I've known Klaus for - let me count - ten years, since we're twenty-nine. He's given me a run for my money, often. Far too often. He's the kind of guy with whom you remake the world, share the best laughs, the most absurd nights and the worst bullshit. The kind who also needs support, all too often. Literal support: I mean by strength of arms. Fortunately, I don't have many people like him around me. Or many people at all. Having to hide a power, in all aspects of life, doesn't help. At least he understands that.

We realized very early on that we shared this 'particularity' when we met, and we never really tried to understand why. Even if my ordinary anxiety makes it difficult for me, it's something I'm trying to learn from him: a form of letting go, although I don't touch the substances he takes. There is only one thing we have realized. An administrative detail for you perhaps. We were born on the same day. At the same time.

Crack! From the bus stop where I got off on Rainshade Square, I reappear at the edge of his window and look down below me.

Hargreeves Mansion is a large, nonsensical, composite edifice, made from several industrial buildings on the same block. Klaus left the window open, as he used to do. This used to be my regular drop-off point, back when he still slept here from time to time, when he couldn't find any other option. Even if he had theoretically been kicked out. Gradually, he stopped coming here altogether: I'd say the last time was three years ago.

My eyes drift inside his room beyond the beaded curtains: I look at the scarf-covered lamp glowing orange, at his stereo and vinyl records, at his surreal posters. At the words he's been writing on the wall for years too, as if to clear his mind, and at long-unused shooting equipment. Slumped shapelessly on his bed, he has his bad-day look on his face, and that worried furrow between his eyebrows.

Even though my jumps through space are quite discreet, he's heard me coming, and his eyes are already scanning the window with jerky movements. He's always been able to spot my teleportations, even when completely stoned. But maybe that's because I'm not the first person around him to have historically done this.

We never talked in depth about his brother, the one who ran away when they were teenagers. The one who could do things in common with me. To be honest, Klaus was always too high, carefree or both for that. We didn't care, anyway: all we wanted to do was have a good time and, above all, think about something other than family.

"Hey, Rin…," he says, his cheek crushed against a faux-fur pillow. "You got my carrier pigeon. I know it's late… Is it late?"

His words get lost on the loose sheet, while I jump around on the wooden floor avoiding knocking over his old hookah. Every object in this room tells of many memories, both good and bad. Years of sporadic presence have resulted in a rather unspeakable mess: disgusting bottles, piles of clothes and scattered tissues. I walk over to the bed and notice the hospital bracelet on his wrist, below the umbrella tattoo.

"Rehab? Emergency room?". He grumbles, but sits up and rubs his face as if in an illusory attempt to wake himself up. "Both. In that order, I think…" "Did you hide dope in the building's gutter again?"

Usually, the benefit of his 'thirty days' is swept away in less than thirty minutes. And that's a pretty generous assessment. He laughs nervously, the dilation of his pupils letting me guess that he has passed close to an overdose again, as soon as he stepped outside the Lakeshore Hills facility building.

"It's brilliant, I know, but unfortunately insufficient. I had to run into Alejandro for a little extra." "If you're talking about your Saturday dealer, his name is Fernando". "Damn, I get them all mixed up because of Lady Gaga…"

I stand beside the bed, letting his hand fall limply back onto the sheet. His humor doesn't hit home with me, I know what emotional state he's in.

"Who told you the news?" He exhales loudly. "I don't remember. TV. Or the paramedic. Or the paramedic's TV? Is that even possible? At first I felt euphoric, I swear, but now… it's all coming back at me like a boomerang." I sigh. "Do you know how it happened?" "Some kind of heart attack, I don't know. Anyway, it doesn't matter: the ashes are the same in the end."

I've never met Reginald Hargreeves. We've always managed to keep it that way, even when Klaus was sneaking around here. Most of what I know, I know from voices other than his. I don't know everything about their relationship, but I know enough to understand that he may have gloated for a while. And at the same time… I know that feeling you get when you lose someone: like missing a step, and never being able to climb it again. It doesn't matter who it was. He glances up at me, struggling to fix his gaze on anything, and I dare to ask him:

"Does that make you sad?" He really considers my question, despite the attention he struggles to focus. "I know I should be. But instead, I feel… flabbergasted. Relieved. Angry. With a damn urge to get piss drunk, and scream my joy…"

He finishes this sentence again with a nervous laugh drowned in conflicting feelings, then his fake smile drops entirely. At the opposite end of the spectrum from his extraverted nature, I'm not at ease with displays of affection, that's a fact. But at this moment, I give in to the only rational reaction any sensible human being would have: I gently pat his back, as soothingly as I can. It's a rare thing, and as always, he seems to soak it up like a parched sponge.

Before you ask, there's no 'love' between Klaus and me, not in any sense you can conventionally picture anyway. More a form of 'deep affection': maybe for what we are, or maybe for everything we've been through. A toxic codependency at times, even if I no longer make the mistakes of the past. A driving force that sometimes allows us to move forward against all odds, however. But when the hell was his last shower? What's the point of putting on eyeliner if he smells like a dead rat?

"Don't feel guilty," I tell him as best I can. He takes a deep breath, then turns his swampy gaze in the direction of the closed door, the one of the teenager he used to be. "The problem is, this place is going to be crowded again."

I don't know what's in his tone: whether it's annoyance, fear, or again a paradoxical joy. All I know is that it's been many years since the Hargreeves siblings have been in the same place, and they're likely to be far more judgmental of Klaus than I am. Now, noises can be heard coming from the rest of the house, and - as if in reaction to this - he seems to choose the option that would have allowed him to flee, once again:

"I'm such an idiot for coming. I'd rather have found a quiet, cosy new squat, gone for a walk in Argyle Park with you, listened to some good old retro hits…" His tattooed hands fall limply back into his lap. "… but life's a rollercoaster and the brakes are broken."

I smile weakly at him, and realize that over the past month I've missed his cynicism and perky yet relevant comparisons, which he immediately takes advantage of by looking at me with eyes that exaggeratedly beg for pity. An art in which he excels.

"Can you stay a while? There's like… 'a hundred' spare rooms in this fucking house, you could sleep wherever you want." Perhaps my face involuntarily expresses how little the proposition tempts me. And sometimes I'm really annoyed that Klaus is so out of touch with reality. "You may not realize it, but I'm working this week. And Granny's going to be all alone at the apartment".

I've already mentioned it: Even though I'm almost thirty and have a job, I live with my grandmother. Rent is cheaper for two, and - at least - neither of us is on our own. I've struggled to find this job at Rodrigo's hardware store, even though it may seem miserable. But for Klaus, it's just a detail that prevents him from seeing me during the day, only worthwhile when I can buy him tacos.

"The bus is super convenient," he says, "and the drivers listen to bossa music. This place isn't a prison. Well, not anymore". And as his arguments leave me unmoved, I see him change strategy back to pity. "Seriously, my life's a wreck, I can't even tell day from night and - here - they're going to ask me… to 'participate'".

Unfortunately, I can see that he's not just pretending: there's something sincere and somewhat disoriented behind his usual theatricality. He looks down and mutters, as if to himself:

"I'm sorry…"

I blink slowly. If I dismiss him on the day his father was found dead, what kind of support will I be? I shake my head and huff again and again.

"How long?" "I don't know… A day or two? A week? Honestly, I have no idea." I sit next to him on the bed, my eyes in a daze too. "I'm going to need some clothes. And my toothbrush."

I guess I've just said yes, and Klaus's eyes light up like it's Christmas. He's hopeless, but I'm used to his mood swings. But he doesn't have time to say anything more, because suddenly I feel him tense up: in the corridor, voices and footsteps approach. Sharper, closer. And finally, a woman's voice rises through the closed door.

"Klaus? I heard you come in. Are you there?" Nervously, he takes the fringed cushion from his lap and starts rummaging through the lining. "Always first on the scene, Allison, huh. Some things really never change".

Before I can say anything, he's already swallowed three out-of-date pills, and the knocking resumes. I don't really care if his siblings come in: if I'm really going to spend a week here, sooner or later they're going to have to learn to deal with me. I've never met Allison; Klaus doesn't talk about her much. But I do read the celebrity press at the hairdresser's from time to time, like everyone else. It doesn't intimidate me.

"Klaus?" she calls again, as if now expecting the worst. Indistinctly, someone else seems to whisper something, behind her, and Klaus adds with a more touched tone: "Diego". And the latter seems to take over: "Klaus, you don't want me to break down that door, do you?" So finally, reluctantly, he speaks aloud: "It's open. It's been open the whole time".

Immediately, Allison appears. All hair, wide-legged pants and a tight camisole, swiftly followed by the dark silhouette of the one I identify as Diego. They both spot me directly, and everything - in my bodily expression - expresses how sorry I am for being here at a painful family moment.

"I'm Rin," I say, and that's by far the most useful thing I can say to them.

None of them see fit to introduce themselves in return. I suppose, having been brought back by Klaus, I'm already classified as a brainless junkie. Diego glances at the mess on the floor. Allison, on the other hand, walks over to us and crosses her arms, scanning up and down this brother she hasn't seen in years.

"You're completely stoned," she observes unsurprisingly.

Her tone is stern, filled with a kind of judgment that never leads to anything good with Klaus. I can tell she's also got an opinion about his looks, and probably a good suspicion that he doesn't have a fixed place to crash. But I say nothing. I'm the one who doesn't belong in this house.

"Years go by, and you're still the same emo stoner". Klaus avoids meeting her gaze, and mumbles as he stares at the hookah: "Don't lecture me about things you have no idea about". The pills he's been taking already seem to be kicking in, and his head wobbles to the side. "Klaus, you can't live this way. But above all, damn it, this really isn't ~the right time~ to 'do this' to us!"

All of a sudden, Diego looks at her with eyes like blades. I'm guessing they haven't seen each other in ages either, maybe even a decade, because he seems to be rediscovering her, and not in a good way.

"You really, really don't give a shit about him, do you?" he tells her with a startled expression.

All she seems to care about is getting their funeral stuff done quickly and safely. But I have good reason to think that Klaus isn't listening, and that tomorrow he won't even remember seeing her today.

"Listen…" I venture to speak, even though I'm not sure it's relevant. "Klaus has asked me to stay here for a few days. I don't know if it's welcome, but… if I can lend him a hand and if it's okay with you too… I will".

I can feel both Allison's and Diego's eyes on me, their expressions torn, and I know what they're thinking. On the one hand, it's clearly not the right time: they're supposed to be holding a family mourning, not a garden party, and on the other hand… they can't deny that I might be able to keep their brother 'just about afloat', which they need. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Diego stammers something inaudible, and Allison finally nods.

"Okay," she says, standing up straight again. "Just make sure he's on his feet for the eulogy, because Luther's definitely going to want one tomorrow."

I nod, a little bewildered by the situation I've just been thrust into. Klaus still doesn't say anything. Unfortunately, when it comes to him, I know that 'being on his feet' often means 'being high enough to not be down'.

"Thank you, I… won't be a bother". "You're not the bother," Allison retorts immediately, her voice softening as she addresses me. "Klaus is".

A little nervously, she pulls a cigarette from a packet and lights it. It's not an easy situation for her either, I can see that, but she seems to have no idea what she's may trigger. Klaus always feels like a burden, convinced that he's always making things worse. But this time, unexpectedly, I hear him say beside me:

"I'll manage to be sober, at least tomorrow for the day".

His voice is barely audible, but Allison seems to take it directly as a promise. And believing Klaus's promises when he's high is really a huge mistake. She and Diego walk to the door, and just before she walks through it, she turns to me one last time, taking another drag on her cigarette.

"We're having dinner in half an hour. Mom cooked".

Upon this invitation, which sounds more like an ultimatum, she closes the door behind them, leaving us in silence. I'm still a little stunned by all this, but I've heard the promise Klaus has just made, and I don't know if he realizes that - now - he's going to have to keep his word. To stay sober tonight, in this house where he's always been more harassed than ever.

For Klaus's problem isn't just the dead he sees because of his power, but also the memories that haunt him. Tonight, none of this will rest in peace. His siblings may see me as a bad person, but while I don't condone all those drugs Klaus takes, I don't blame him either: I know why he does it. The only thing I regret is that year after year he turns into a shadow of himself.

"Klaus,” I say with a sigh. "Look, I can give you a hand, but…" He raises his 'Goodbye' hand to interrupt me, his eyes staring at the floor. "I'll try not to burden you with this, I'm a fucking shame." And I shake my head. "You sent me that telegram, I came. Now I'm willingly caught in the spiral. This is my true power: to be able to handle you".

The corner of his mouth stretches into a vague smile.

"There's no way it's a better power," he says. "Your power is super cool. 'Crack!', you disappear from here. 'Crack!', you reappear over there. Crack!', you collect the burgers at Berty's. 'Crack!' You're a freakin' instant punk delivery service." "I'm not punk anymore". "'Crack!', you pop to the mini-mart. 'Crack!', you bring back the beers…"

He lets out a short laugh, then rubs his eyes with a now pensive expression.

"My brother Five… he could do that too." "You told me. Once." He leans his head toward me and gazes at me as if wishing to warn me. "The others, since you're staying. They'll understand that you're exactly like us."

He's right, it's very likely. But I shake my head in denial, because what he's saying isn't completely accurate. With a confident gesture, I roll up my left sleeve and reveal my forearm: clear-skinned, unmarked, free of the umbrella tattoo.

"Not… not 'exactly', no".

I don't know how many children were born at noon on October 1, 1989, to mothers who didn't know they were pregnant that morning. All I know, just like him, is that Reginald Hargreeves adopted seven of them. I've never been adopted by anyone, and that makes all the difference in our lives.

Klaus's face is now serious and touched, as he stares at my forearm next to his. Slowly, he runs his index finger over that ink-blank skin, just once. And even though he's seen it countless times, he's never really weighed it until now. I know what it's like to be tattooed, I have several tattoos, including the lotus flower that blooms on my back. But this umbrella one, above his wrist, I know it pierced his skin more than any other, because he didn't want it.

Today, his father is dead, and that part of him seems to finally be slipping behind him, but he doesn't say anything for a while. His gaze is lost, I don't know where, and he finally utters:

"I wish I had your life. I really do".

I don't answer him. For once, I let him delude himself. My eyes trail over the umbrella one last time, contrasting with its absence on my arm, then I pull down my sleeve. My heart sinks for Klaus, for the whole Hargreeves family too. I'm sorry for what they're going through today, as much as for the guilty freedom they feel.

"Klaus, you're not a fucking shame, right now". I smile, as more noises rise from the house, but he replies: "Don't get used to it, it won't last".

---

Notes:

What if, through the whole story of The Umbrella Academy, Klaus had had someone to have his back? I chose to insert Rin into the plot of the show, almost only in 'deleted scenes'.

I'll do my best to respect the canon as much as possible, and to always provide you with time stamps so that you can watch the scenes between which the chapters are inserted.

Have you noticed that cell phones are deliberately not part of The Umbrella Academy? It all starts with a telegram… and Rin doesn't quite realize the vortex she's just stepped into.

Any comment will make my day! ♡

---

A bend in space-time, the masterlist :

- Season 1 (complete): Table of contents - Season 2 (complete): Table of contents - Season 3 (complete): Table of contents - Season 4 (in progress) : Table of contents

[sshbpodcast]

Character Spotlight: Guinan

By Ames

Guinan gives The Next Generation the closest thing the show gets to a wizard: just some kind of supernatural being whose unquestioned wisdom gets the heroes out of scrape after scrape but whose true powers are never entirely explained. Oh, and she wears baller hats.

Sure, she may play into that “bartender, here to listen to your problems and guide you on your path” trope (which frankly Deanna should be doing but rarely does), but Guinan is so much more than that. We’re going to get into the good number of moments this week on A Star to Steer Her By, so get ready for your personal epiphany as you read on below and listen to our chatter on the podcast (pull up a stool at 1:02:25). El-Aurians are always listening.

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Best moments

Whole generations of disposable people Simultaneously one of Picard’s best scenes, the peptalk Guinan gives to Jean-Luc when he’s being thoroughly whooped by Riker’s prosecution in “The Measure of a Man” feels like a turning point in the show. Whoopi Goldberg’s calm presence as a Black woman in a scene about creating androids as slaves imbues their discussion with meaning, weight, and stakes that are both personal and universal.

Every time you feel love it’ll will be different The perpetual sounding board, Guinan helps Wesley parse his feelings at the end of “The Dauphin” in a scene we really give the both of them credit for. Guinan doesn’t speak down to the kid or just tell him everything will be okay while he’s broken hearted after watching Salia leave. She tells it like it is: love is deeply subjective and his feelings are valid.

A warrior’s drink Guinan introducing Worf to prune juice in “Yesterday’s Enterprise” is such a perfect microcosmic scene depicting her character in a lot of ways. She just knows people. Worf is a tough nut to crack, but she reads people in such a way that she figures out just what he’d like in a drink, just as she does later in the episode on a much greater scale…

I look at things, I look at people, and they just don’t feel right …when she figures out the parallel dimension problem at the heart of “Yesterday’s Enterprise.” In that slightly fantastical wizard way she has, Guinan can feel that something is wrong with the timeline when the Enterprise-C shows up out of some rift or other and suddenly her once familiar crewmates are denizens of a warship. And even better, she gets Picard to believe her.

You have to let go of Picard Whenever anyone on the crew needs a little guidance, that seems to come from a really great scene with the ship’s bartender, and who could possibly need it more than Riker at the top of “The Best of Both Worlds, Part 2”? She gives him the confidence he needs to keep going in the absence of Picard, whom she insists she’s super close to for reasons we don’t know yet.

Job opening in the Empath field Another crisis, another peptalk from Guinan. We all know Troi handles losing her empath powers in “The Loss” pretty terribly, but you know who handled it great? This El-Aurian bartender I know who swoops in and reverse psychologizes Troi with such stealth that even if she had all her senses at the time, Deanna wouldn’t have known what hit her!

You saw exactly what you wanted to see in the holodeck It is downright glorious how Guinan puts Geordi in his place in “Galaxy’s Child” when he’s unironically whining about how Leah Brahms is nothing like the hologram he created of her (vom!). “She's probably done the most horrific thing one person can do to another,” she says, “not live up to your expectations,” and I can’t help but stand up and applaud.

I’ve heard some Klingon belly laughs that would curl your hair Guinan’s advice to crewmembers isn’t limited to the human ones! In “Redemption,” she not only schools Worf in holodeck target practice (and left-landed, to boot!), but she also makes him consider what it means to be Klingon, as his experiences are atypical from most of his people. We have no doubt that her chat with him inspired him to get involved in Kurn’s war.

You ain’t never had a friend like me When Guinan sees other officers like La Forge pointedly avoiding Ro Laren, she makes it a point to befriend her in “Ensign Ro.” That in and of itself is very Guinan-like behavior, but it also comes with some of her copyrighted motivational chats when she is able to convince Ro to come clean to Picard about the secret mission she was tasked with for Admiral Kennelly.

I tell you, that razorbeast was a good friend All throughout “Imaginary Friend,” while the other officers not only infantilize Clara Sutter for having an imaginary friend, but they entirely ignore the signs that something isn’t right. Everyone except Guinan. Guinan talks to Clara as an equal, even if she’s a child, and imparts the story of her own imaginary friend: a Tarkassian razor beast, which somehow seems fitting.

We are also lonely Despite being conflicted about Hugh being on board in “I, Borg,” Guinan goes and meets with him and it’s such a cute little scene. You forget that someone as old and wizened as Guinan still has things to learn, and to find some common ground with a Borg was unexpected for her. And she even convinces Picard to see him too, giving us yet another great scene from this great episode.

Why are you still sitting here? Let’s see, is there a single member of the crew Guinan hasn’t peptalked yet… ah right, Dr. Crusher. Now we have a full BINGO card! Our final tete-a-tete from Guinan comes in “Suspicions” when Bev is doubting her decisions to look into Dr. Reyga’s murder and Guinan cheers her on until the good doctor solves the mystery, kills the baddy, and flies in a sun like a badass! Truly so many of our Best Moments from other character spotlights are initiated by Guinan!

—

Worst moments

Give yourself permission to be selfish Guinan’s first significant scene in the series is in “The Child,” and of course she’s doing better counseling than Troi. However, your hosts here at SSHB can’t help but cringe because, while the show got rid of Beverly Crusher for a season, it means we were still stuck with Wesley because Guinan convinced him to stay, especially after a season in which we were so annoyed by his character all the time! Guinan, how could you?

You’re a ‘droid and I'm a ‘noid You saw above all the times Guinan helped all the other characters with a little self introspection to find their way through a problem, and the one character whom I’d say she fails with is Data in “The Outrageous Okona.” It’s probably because encouraging Data to consult Joe Pesci on how to do comedy led to the events of my least favorite TNG episode, and it’s all Guinan’s fault!

Tell me more about my eyes While the scene in which Riker flirts with Guinan when Wesley asks for dating advice in “The Dauphin” is hot as hell and inspired a little bit of shipping, we’ve got to admit that it’s not at all helpful to Wesley. Usually Guinan scenes are much more beneficial to the crewmember who is struggling, and in this one, none of this is what Wes asked for. I’m still totally into it though.

Let me introduce you to the Borg We learn in “Q Who?” that the El-Aurians were almost wiped out by Borg… because apparently Guinan and her people never told Starfleet this before? Think about it: she clues Picard in after Q has flung them into the Delta Quadrant about who the Borg are, and it is news to him! Starfleet spends every other interaction with Borg playing catch up because they don’t have any info on them!

That’s what you get, Charlie! You get fork stabbed! Pardon the It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia quote, but I couldn’t help myself. And Guinan seems to me no better than a McPoyle when she stabs the suddenly human Q with a fork in “Déjà Q” and generally mocks him. It just seems petty and violent for a character who is usually so stoic and reserved. So much for the tolerant Alpha Quadrant.

But I know it was an empty death, a death without purpose While Guinan had a lot of instances from our Best Moments list above from “Yesterday’s Enterprise,” we’re still troubled by her nudging Tasha Yar to go sacrifice herself on the Enterprise-C to make up for her waste of a death in “Skin of Evil.” Even if you consider it a better death than a tarpit, then you get freakin’ Sela in “Redemption,” which Guinan somehow blames Picard for when she’s the one who compelled Yar to go!

That was setting number one While some might give credit to Guinan for quelling a riot before it could get out of control when everyone was on edge due to sleep deprivation in “Night Terrors,” I’m not one of them. As I said in “Déjà Q,” violence doesn’t seem the answer for Guinan, and this scene escalated so quickly (partly because the bar scenes in this episode feel like afterthoughts), it makes me wonder how she let things get that bad.

A Yankee in Captain Picard’s Court Oh boy, I’ve got to question some of Guinan’s standards when we see her hanging out with Samuel Clemens in “Time’s Arrow” (and a terribly acted Sam Clemens at that!) after Picard had claimed in “Ensign Ro” that she’s very picky about her friends. Her cohorting with the author led to some of the most obnoxious scenes from The Next Generation that I’ve ever seen.

Our relationship is beyond friendship, beyond family There are several instances of Guinan hinting at her and Picard’s established kinship before we get to the story of the bald man who was kind to her in “Time’s Arrow” and my reaction was… that’s it? We say sometimes that leaving something unexplained is better than giving it a stupid explanation, and oh boy, Picard just sitting with Guinan in a cave once was totally fizzled what had been built up for so long.

Were you this much fun when you were a kid? Some of this is the overall child acting being bad in “Rascals” and Guinan’s child actor had it especially stacked against her since her voice had to get dubbed (resulting in her just sounding super smug all the time), but boy was she insufferable as a child! It was cute for adult Guinan to befriend adult Ro in “Ensign Ro,” but we felt bad that little Laren had to put up with this! Let this girl mope by herself, lady!

Forty to love Though Guinan helps boost Beverly’s confidence in “Suspicions,” she does it by tricking her with this lie about playing tennis that just seemed unnecessary. Guinan always finds ways to converse with people who need it, but this whole tacked-on frame story had some weirdness to it because it forced both Guinan and the episode to be indirect when it really didn’t have to.

Think of me as an echo of the person you know I’ll take every opportunity I get to shit on the Nexus in Generations. It’s just such a confusing device they used to get Picard and Kirk together that really makes no sense if you think about it for more time that it’s actually onscreen, which isn’t a lot. And there’s an echo of Guinan in there, feeding Picard exposition and generally complicating what this place is supposed to be, and I’m just done with it.

—

That’s enough from Guinan’s advice column this week! We’ve got a really special DOUBLE spotlight next week, in which Tasha Yar and Ro Laren are going to go head to head for the title of Baddest Bitch on the Enterprise-D. Place your bets now and be sure to come back for that! Also keep coming back for more of our series watch of Enterprise over on SoundCloud or wherever you get your podcasts, order a drink with us over on Facebook and Twitter, and enjoy your prune juice.

[amechyofsorts]

Tell us about ur rogue trader!!!!

Oh god, this is so much pressure so suddenly. I don't actually have the writing chops of all these tumblr regular oc'er creatives. Oh well, here goes.

Strumm Von Valancius is a thirty-something man. He's very big and very buff, but with somewhat of a gut. He has shifty, small eyes and a massive jawline which puts even that of most space marines to shame.

Oh, there he is. Not an exact likeness.

Not specifically dogmatic, iconoclast or heretic. Self-interested centrist run.

Strumm Von Valancius was born on an imperial world into a long line of Navis Imperials officers. As such he himself joined the imperial navy, and distinquished himself in both good and bad. Good, in that he clearly had strong leadership abilities (Officer archetype) and a penchant for brave deeds (illustrious valor). Bad, in that he reguarly received punitive measures for relationships with women working on-ship while on duty (sadly the character creator in game doesn't let you alter bulge size). This included the likes of fellow voidsmen, technomats, serfs, at least one astropath, and even his commanding officer once. In spite of that however, his outrageous acts of valor on the line of duty helped him climb the ranks, which was all for his eventual goal of commandeering a chartist vessel. You see, long before he even had even considered the possiblity of being a rogue trader, while still a growing boy, Strumm had come across a book, a clearly heretical one, which detailed an image of the mostly, but not strictly, female specimens of various xenos races, very differently from how they had been described in your average imperial propaganda, with very "evocative" anatomical drawings and describtions. From that day on Strumm had a dream: to stride across the stars and savor every flavor of alien poontang the galaxy had to offer!

As for in game, post becoming a Rogue Trader, Strumm had been slightly less atrocious in misusing the excessive privilege he has been granted then he even himself expected. For all the partying and fun he can make happen, he's really not a fan of all the responsibility that came with the position, and so far has just kinda been winging it. He's also surprised by just how difficult it has been for him to continue his womanizing ways while at this high perch. Due to now holding such a high position, it's basically impossible for him to try to woo 99% of the ladies on ship without them feeling compelled to do it due to his status, which would make it impossible for him to determine if it's fully consensual and wanted on their part or not. The only ones he feels like he knows well enough for this to not be an issue are those in his retinue, and he sure has been getting to know many of them closely, striking up relationships with the lady navigator, the cold trader from footfall and his definitely crazy cultist ninja bodyguard. But much to his frustration, Yrliet has been a tough nut to crack. So much so that rather then the easy alien lay he had been hoping for before moving onto the next, she's basically been forcing him to learn how to actually get to know and like the women he spends time with as people, and he's probably actually in love with her now. Uh oh!

He gets along the best with Jae, as both have permanent grins plastered on their faces and share a similarly faked manner to hide their true selves, and they both enjoy similar pleasures in life.

He initally was annoyed when he realized that Argenta and Idira are basically a no go as far as his regular act with the ladies goes, but over time he begun to appreciate them as companions much more. Idira in particular is a regular friend to go for drinks and laughs with him.

Has little opinion on Pasqal, or on mechancius folks in general. Very different priorities. Appreciates his good work though.

Enjoys what he has going on with Cassia, but also is starting to feel bad about basically stringing her along with the whole "proper courting" routine.

Kibellah scares the shit out of him, but keeps her around for the protection and the nookie.

Just met Ulfar so is pretty unsure of him. Feels a bit upstaged by him frankly.

Could not stand Heinrix, or Calcazar for that matter. Told them to take a hike the first chance he got.

Abelard reminds him of his dad, which is why he doesn't care for him much. Though he understands that Abelard is invaluable as a seneschal.

So yeah, that's Strumm Von Valancius. What a dirtbag.

[thekrows-nest]

Oh ayo?

There's a lot I could do with it.

Was the changeling chosen because they would be able to protect themselves and could potentially even be a match for Krow?

Or were they dying and/or considered disposable?

Also neither Gabby nor LT know about the cage. Should Dove's replacement be taken, what if the cage negated the changeling's power or their glamour? (I'm assuming it's metal.)

What if being surrounded by it was killing them? What if the torment of it drove them insane?

The biggest hurdle though would like. Being sure Gabby doesn't tip off something is up. I am sure she'd be in on the switcheroo and she'd have to pretend nothing is wrong or different.

Would Gabby be told? LT might not want to reveal the switch to her in case she tipped her hand and was then put in danger.

Gabby would very likely work it out for herself before too long though, what with her keen perception. And she would have to know Dove a bit to know they were in danger and care about their wellbeing so she would notice something off on a personal level. So LT might tell her just to keep her trust.

I'm sure she'd manage to keep up the pretense for at least a little while. Gabby is a tough nut to crack and even if she felt no duty to the changeling her prickly dislike of Krow could still be interpreted as protectiveness of "Dove".

But how well could she suppress her reticence and unease towards the changeling? Her manner might not change towards Krow but it might change towards "Dove"...

And what if despite the fear and nausea she began to pity the changeling? To know how it felt to be in danger, in a situation you don't control? Even grudgingly come to like the changeling as them?

If she slips up, Krow will be onto her and hoo boy.

LT won't let anything happen to her.

In fact, an ending I considered for the kidnapping story (Double Shot) was going to be LT approaching Krow's house where Gabby and Dove were being kept.

But it does mean her owing him yet another favour... when the power differential is already tipped. The rules are already bent.

And seeing how dangerous this world is he might beg to take her away from it. Take her somewhere she will never age or know pain.

Krowspiracy once again coming to the ask box with some of the coolest shit. /pos I so so love your asks. Anyway.

Gonna do a read more cause this will get long dkjfndf

Those are all very good questions, and you really could go with most anything.

And yeah, the cage would definitely... not be well for a changeling Dove. Or any fae being that is close to it or, god, INSIDE it (cause yes, it IS made of metal).

Yeah I think LT would need to tell Gabby immediately or soon after, both to keep her trust and out of love and respect for her. He's fae, yes, so he has different morals, but Gabby is still the person he values the most, even above himself.

Gabby might be... apprehensive about the whole thing. But she'd trust LT, and she would be a tough nut to crack. Krow wouldn't realize for a time he has been had.

But... Gabby is only human. "Dove" would still represent her dear friend. May still carry some mannerisms, but she'd know it's still not truly THEIR Dove. So some subtle tells might leak through that Krow could eventually pick up on...

And, yes, I could see Gabby eventually seeing the changeling as not like, Dove 2.0 or Fake!Dove. But as... whoever it is they are. This is a situation not really anyone wants to be in...

LOL true. LT would never let anything happen to Gabby. Not like Krow wouldn't TRY something eventually if he believes he could get away with it but... ya know.

Ooooooh. Hadn't considered the idea of Krow kidnapping Dove AND Gabby. Could be possible. Hmm HMMM

[raisindave]

[Chapter 11] Seeing the World Through Ballistic-Tinted Glasses

“There’s no talking your way out of it this time,” Soap shouted over the roaring engine of the plane, “we’ve decided on your callsign.”

“I thought you’d’ve learned your lesson from last time.” 

Your brows furrowed, considering Soap’s words. Despite years of service, you’ve never really been considered an applicant for receiving a callsign. With your role as a specialist, you’re onto the next task by the time your current team knows you exist. You never get any voice in what your nickname is either; usually, they just happen, a label on your record as a reference to some embarrassing moment or notable feature. Being compared to an insect doesn’t quite sit right, but you don’t have the authority to argue. 

Cricket? Like… the bug? I think I liked Salsa better. 

“Because you’re always chirping at people, then as soon as someone’s fed up and goes to smack ye’, you’re invisible,” Soap clarified, smiling triumphantly.

“I mean, I’d rather not get a callsign from someone named Soap,” You countered. 

“Actually, it was Ghost that came up with it.”

Your eyes flicker to the culprit. Half-shadowed in darkness by the dim cabin light, he smirked at you- or you assumed he smirked. The mask made it hard to tell when he was being malicious. Perhaps that’s the point. 

“Well, I guess I don’t have a say, do I,” You spoke after a tentative silence. 

“Not a chance,” Price added, letting out a breathy sigh as he looked like he was about to take a shot at catching some shut-eye. His hat tilted to fall over his eyes like a sleeping mask. 

Numb to the discomfort, you unclasped the helmet you had by now forgotten was squeezing your temples as the stiff metal yawned from the change in temperature. The balaclava, too, had the tensing benefit of feeling like a snug blanket around your face, but its time had also come to an end. You combed your fingers through heavy hair, thick with sweat and unwashed dust, feeling like you could take the first real deep breath in hours. The feeling that washed over you after unburdening yourself with now unneeded armour could only be compared to nirvana. Aching eyelids fell over dry eyes, still cold from the frigid Russian air. 

Then there was Ghost. Ghost was such a tough nut to crack. So unreadable, so ambivalent to the world around him. Though evidenced by his rapport with his teammates and Soap’s affinity to joke with him, he clearly must have at least a little humour under that tough outer layer. Something about him made you want to get under his skin. Like an otter smashing an oyster open on the riverside, you needed to see what was under that tough outer shell, or die trying. He ground your gears in a way so few people could. There was something about the arrogance in his sanctimonious skull mask. How does someone so emo make it so far in the military anyway? It’s like he got his mask from Hot Topic. 

You blinked, realizing you had been staring into oblivion for an unknown amount of time. 

“So, Cricket,” Price spoke up, creating a welcome break to the stiff silence, “What’re you expecting back home?”

“Not much. I’ve got some shows and friends to catch up with. Definitely due for some dusting around the house… and a goldfish back home, who must be missing me dearly.”

A grin illuminated Soap’s face, indicating that he was about to say something dastardly. He always had this look in his eyes that read like he was ready to say something cheeky. It’s best when you see it on his face before any words even leave his mouth, letting you get a head start to retorting to whatever stupid comment he has coming. 

“Lua, I hate to break it to you. It’s probably long dead by now,” he quipped.

“No, it’s-” You sighed and smiled, rolling your eyes with feigned agitation, “It’s with my neighbour.” 

“What’s its name,” He added, intrigue as an apology for implicating you as a fish murderer. 

“Chupacabra,” a cheeky smile and a rolling ‘r’ accentuating your exaggerated speech.

“Sounds like a killer,” Price sighed, fiddling with one of the straps on his harness. 

You felt your cheeks tense as a smile widened across your mouth, sifting through your comments to respond with. 

“Oh, he’s a killer,” The answer finally hit you, “but when he makes a kill, he doesn’t have to debrief about it with his buddies for twenty minutes.”

Gaz kicked his head back to laugh while Price let out an exhale out of his nose. There was something uniquely satisfying about making these seasoned executioners chuckle. It feels good to be able to keep up with their wit, although it doesn’t seem to be that much of a challenge. These old fuckers probably have too much brain damage to compete fully. Though, maybe that’s more of a slight on your own humour.

Time slipped by, thinking and reliving details of the last few days, trying to refuse the creeping smile in satisfaction at having solved the Russian mystery. As satisfying as it might have been, Graves did have a point. It was your ‘fucking job,’ and you shouldn’t be digging for praise on a thing that you were uniquely and specifically trained to do. After all, you don’t see Price or Gaz raving about how satisfying and skillful it was to pick off enemies and slink through the shadows. Well, maybe a little. You made do with folding and re-folding the strap of your duffle bag half a million different ways, having now relinquished the remainder of your thermal gear and weaponry to Laswell’s instructions.

Cresting sunlight peaking over the horizon revealed a vast landmass creeping over the skyline. You made it to friendly territory without being shot from the sky, so that’s the first step. Satisfaction washed over you, making the remaining ninety minutes due on this flight seem in higher spirits than ever. Gnawing muscles from strain and lack thereof crackled to life as you stretched your back to wake up your body. It seems that Ghost’s mind was also elsewhere. You watched as his eyes flickered between two invisible points in his vision. He has brown eyes, something you never had the opportunity to note before. However, your experience with looking at his face was usually him shouting at you or his eyes boring into you in judgment. 

Feeling the clunks and clicks of lowering landing gear, you prepared yourself for yet another landing. Increasing pressure against your chest from the harness attaching you to the plane made it official, though you frowned seeing Soap winge against the unwelcome pressure on a fresh injury. The rest of the gang stretched and crackled, especially Price, who clearly had the fortune of being able to fall asleep with a jet engine screaming in his ear. A low rumble and bouncing tires winding the plane to a halt. Muscles protested the movement of raising to your feet and even more so to having to absorb the shock of jumping off the plane’s elevated floor. Fresh air, though still agonizingly cold, couldn’t penetrate the depths of your bones quite like that Russian night air. 

“I have to say, that was my first time uncovering Chinese nuclear warheads in rural Russia,” You breathed, sliding your palm over the strap of your duffle bag.

“I bet…” Price took his time to saunter over to you, a surprisingly warm smile on his face, “we’ll be seeing you again, Cricket.”

“Oh! And I think we owe you a cake too, eh?” Soap interjected your sweet moment. 

“Not a chance in hell, Johnny.” You chirped in response, playfully slapping the back of your hand on his chest. 

In an instant, he doubled over in pain, whinging and groaning. You recognized your transgression, and your face dropped, clasping your palms over your mouth in horror. The damage he sustained from the bulletproof armour was just sparked alive by your thoughtless banter, his blood-curdling winging proof of his agony. Frantic's apologies sputtered from your mouth, looking up to meet Ghost’s judging gaze looking down at you, arms crossed, an unreadable expression in his eyes. He's probably furious that you just damaged his comrade.  

“Ahh, I’m just fucking with you.” Soap sprung up from his stupor, cackling with laughter at your shocked expression. 

“See ya’ Cricket,” Gaz called out with a nod. 

You nodded in response, giving Gaz a dry wave and a tight-lipped smile, still reeling from Soap’s little stunt. 

A new wave of emotion washed over you, mouth agape as you were a split second away from bursting into tears. Laughter crackled through the air. So full of real comradery that made your reluctant smile widen. However, it was due to end. After all, it’s not like you’re the first specialist this task force has interacted with, and you’re sure they’ve met thousands of other people with your skillset. At this point, it made you consider what must have happened to their last linguist to need a new one desperately. It really makes you wonder. 

Four supersoldiers, each horrifying bunks of muscle and lethality, turned to walk toward a pre-arranged plane to take them wherever home was to them. They walked like the ground rose to greet them with every footstep, wearing their combat gear like they were born to it, effortless and confident- which still somewhat irritated you. Sure, they were good at that one thing, but they weren’t that special. You could do without some of them, but at least most of them weren’t miserable company, for the most part. 

At least you won’t be leaving empty-handed. Now you have a new callsign that is most likely not an acronym for a slight. How do you uphold a callsign anyway? Is it just a trust system? What’s stopping you from saying that some unnamed comrade has given you the callsign Emperor  or DragonWizard ? Either way, satisfaction bloomed in your chest, and you were eager to start your new life anew as Corporal Lua “ Cricket ” Grant. 

It took a few hours for a flight from Alaska to California to arrive, and the sensation of raging homesickness took over you for the first time in weeks. Although restlessness is hardly uncommon at an airport, a particular aching desperation to get home gnawed at your bones. The idle chatter of strangers and familiar sterile lighting did nothing to ease your comfort, though well-regulated heating and cushioned seating made it bearable. Memorizing each pixel of the digital clock under your gate number, probably looking like a lunatic to passing passengers. 

There’s a certain safety in an airplane; everyone is locked into one location, no one is going anywhere, and there is a certainty that there are no guns about to be pulled on you unexpectedly. Everyone is lazily lounging in their slightly reclining seats, enjoying a movie they hadn’t had the time to watch under normal circumstances, and enjoying the distinctive view of the planet from up high.

Staring at the TV screen on the seatback, you settled in for the final flight that would be bringing you ever closer to your final destination. Meeting the deep brown eyes of a child seated next to you, likely no older than ten, his eyes were shining with awe. You couldn’t help but smile. A genuine lightness lifted your chest. Something about the innocence and wonder in his face, the mechanical figurine in his hand implied that he must look to people like you like you’re superheroes, reminding you that you’re still wearing an army uniform. A kind smile did nothing to drop his gaze from you, still enraptured by your presence. Recognition struck, and you realized that you likely looked like a disaster of messy hair, a dishevelled uniform, and sunken cheekbones from days without eating. The intentions of the child would quickly become unknown as the show on his seatback monitor started a particularly engaging action scene between two monsters, commanding both yours and his undivided attention.

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Master List

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Your newest Din one shot made me cry. It would be so rewarding to earn a man like Din's trust and even though that sliver of glass is a small thing to most people, from a Mandalorian like Din Djarin its almost like an engagement ring.

Oh my gosh Anon, hi!! I’m so sorry it took me a few days to answer this, but please know that it means the entire world to me that you took the time to send it. To know that something I wrote had this kind of impact is such a huge compliment. I’m just 🥹🥹🥹.

I agree with you that to earn Din’s trust would be oh, so rewarding. He’s a tough nut to crack, but once you’re in? Once he opens up and lets you in and shares things about himself and his beliefs and his goals? That’s basically an admission that he cares deeply for you.

Yes, from most people the shard of glass wouldn’t be all that meaningful. But it’s not just any glass and it’s not just anyone. From Din, it’s a thank you and a promise, and you can bet that Reader is going to treasure it as though it were the most precious of gems.

And now that he’s back and his goal has been achieved he can tell you what he said in Mando’a before he left. 😉

THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for reading and for sending this message. I hope you’re having a wonderful weekend.

[universalzones]

"I was on the fence about it, though after all this craziness I think I could use a bit of a breather from all the chaos. I mean, I know I signed up for it working with a group to fight against Eggman and other villains, though this has been a lot." Belle needed some time to unwind from all the craziness that happens here. Hopefully after traveling a bit and gaining her own experience by herself she'll be ready to help much more. "Please don't pick a fight with G.U.N on my account. You can do lot more good than me." The tinkerer wasn't sure the world could handle Sonic being locked up.

"Then general might be a tough nut to crack. I have no doubt he'll catch on quickly to our plan to keep them separated, though I hope that working out a peaceful way to let everyone leave the base will keep his attention." Blaze wasn't sure if this general would even humor there attempts to keep the two from talking with each other, though he did have to command his troops to stand down and let people out.

Surge would walk out of the room and toss the recorder onto the table. "Heard the plan so let's get going. Drippy is going to need a minute... maybe several." The tenrec didn't intend to go into details, though knew Kit would calm himself and stick to her plan after that, even if he wasn't happy about it in the slightest. "If G.U.N wants to tussle then I'll tussle." The speedster wasted no more time to dashing off, the trail of lightning fading behind her.

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"Yeah, well, I got more than a few tricks up my sleeve. I do wish I had kept up on my training better to be in top shape as you are someone I can't exactly throw down with at the moment." Rowan was sure this guy would be tossing him around the room like he was a child in his current state. Though the lemur didn't come here to pick a fight this time around.

"A suspicion you didn't think to share with The Restoration so they could be on high alert? Yeah, sounds like you were waiting for things to go bad." Rowan didn't leave even as the wolf walked over. "You'd better because if he comes after my niece again it won't end well for him. He should count himself lucky I'm letting him walk with just drawings on his face."

The lemur would stare at the wolf. "I don't know what you're planning, though don't think I won't go digging for information about you. And one more thing from the big Mother Wisp. She say's she'll be keeping an eye on Mimic and if he so much as glares at a Wisp, well, I guess she can get a lot bigger." He then walked back, the shadow wisp opening a portal while also glaring at the wolf as they left.

Sonic knew deep down that Belle was doing this for all the right reasons. She had this lofty goal of seeing the badniks made into something good and just. To see them freed and given a chance to be there own bot. He also had a feeling that down the road this could lead to something good---but also bad. The people of mobius wouldn't be so ready to open there hearts to machines as Tails and himself were. Hell even he lashed out at Belle at first and yet... he still wished her all the luck in the world!

" I think deep down you already knew you were going to leave ... it's fine though! i'm sure they'll miss you, but i think your cause is a noble one! i hope you find what you are looking for out there and if you ever need a hand! don't be afraid to call... i'll be there in a flash to lend a paw! "

He gave her a thumbs up and a warm smile

" I do think its good of you to stick by a bit just till things cool down as for GUN. Don't worry about those losers--- If they ever lay a finger on you ill personally give them a beat down! "

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" That's a sound idea ... the more high level threats the less likely gun will do something foolish. But it sounds like we have a plan of action! i'll head to my office to contact this president fellow... and when everything is in place we'll make our move! time to shine people! lets go! "

Jewel wasn't even sure if her plan would work but she had to have confidence in herself and her team. She buzzed her wings and dashed through the halls to her office to engage with the president, which left Blaze to deal with the general.

" I'll round up our heavy hitters... Lanolin you should stick with Blaze, you know our people better then she does. She might need you for intell... be careful Blaze. That old codger seems more cunning then he lets on... honestly i hope Jewel can handle that president... "

Miles headed out into the main room and whistled at Sonic and headed over to him and Belle. He jogged a bit to make the distance as quick as he could and paused as he watched Blaze closely a moment before his eyes went back to sonic.

" Jewel wants our heavy hitters out in the open where GUN can see them. A deterrent of sorts... so you and Surge mostly... Jewel and blaze are about to contact that general and the president so things will pop off soon... so we should all be ready for a worst case scenario... but hope it doesn't come to it..."

" Gotcha... so if GUN is dumb Surge and i go ham... i think she'll be cool with that. I'll head top side i've been standing still to long anyway! Belle you think you can tell Surge? You know if i do it she'll just glare and snap at me... even if she is kinda cute when she does it! haha! "

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He felt it long before he saw it. That tingling sensation in the tips of his ears. For all his upgrades, implants and nanotech he had shoved in his body. He was still so reliant on his gift to warn him of impending doom. After all how does one live as long as he had with out some edge. Above and to the left he let his eyes turn slowly as if time itself had slowed down for just a moment. as he sensed the change in the air itself.

Yet he did not move or act despite the sensation. Sonic and his people aren't that foolish, and yet Rowan saw the Wolfs one good eye meet his a moment before he stepped through that shadowy portal as if he could see him despite that being impossible.

" You are a brave man walking into the Wolfs Den without so much as a care in the world. Men of such courage are so rare today... i commend your courage... "

He looked up to the dangling Octopus and tilted his head.

" Mimic is a loose end i've tried to clean up on many occasions. I taught him better then this... taught him better then to run off on some personal vendetta... but here we are. "

He finally turned to Rowan and approached him with arms behind his back in a very non-threatening manner.

" I had a suspicion he was on base but if your implying he was working for us. That's a solid negative, but he was once one of mine, and i do take some responsibility for the chaos he's created. I thank you for his return... i'll make sure he's locked away where he'll never be a problem again. Now if you'll kindly depart my ship... I think our business is done here "