#but you can rip those cats from my cold dead hands

[kevingayimeanday]

My absolute favourite piece of discourse started by the extra content is whether or not Andrew smiles again. Nora says no, however, he’s fictional and whatever happens after the end of the series is just headcanon, regardless of whether or not it’s the author saying it.

Anyway, my not so hot take is that a lot of people (myself included) relate to Andrew. Whether we’re survivors of csa, former/current foster kids or just struggle with mental health in general, a lot of people in the aftg fandom get it and have been in a (maybe not quite so) dark place like Andrew. Part of what makes Andrew fabulous, despite all his horrible actions, is his ending. He’s got Neil, a family, a future and he’s a massive symbol of hope for those of us who relate. So, I think he does learn to smile again, even if it’s a decade later. Because I want to keep that hope that things do get better and it’s possible to heal. It might not be realistic, but neither is anything that happens in the series. One day I want to be happy too, and if I want to project the idea of healing and having a happy family and a good support system onto a five foot tall fictional man I will.

[crow-stars]

❝BIG COLD CASTLE, WARM LITTLE HEART❞

❦summary; the experience of warmth is so precious in somewhere always so cold ♪the characters in this story; gn!reader, malleus draconia ✎word count; 784 ❀what do the ghosts say?; romantic, reader and malleus are maried, he wants his cuddles after a long day, more of me pushing my cat malleus agenda, very fluff ☛the author's notes; nothing to note... ☪look at the catalogue?

The castle that Malleus resided in always seemed to be cold. 

It gave a chill down the spine of anyone who visited for the first time and only continues to do so for many. The ones used to one have learned to ignore the cold, Malleus especially. The feeling of the cold never disappeared either, it was something that residents within the castle got used to. 

For most, people thought it was fitting. The King of Briar Valley with a stare that could send fear down anyone’s body, living somewhere that fit the exact atmosphere that he exuded. He was supposed to strike fear into the hearts of those who dare to cross him. 

Though such things couldn’t be further from the truth, for Malleus yearned for warmth as much as one could. 

He wished he could fill the castle with the warmth and joy that he yearned for when he was younger. But, for now, Malleus was able to get that warmth from you. 

Everyday, without fail, Malleus would leave his duties at the same time every night. It didn’t matter if something else came up, he would always return back to his chambers where you would always await, arms open to the fae.

Tonight was just the same, Malleus’ imposing figure striding through the halls of the castle, his face that same neutral expression on his face. He passed by many servants who bowed to him in respect, yet he didn’t pay much mind to them, one intent in his mind. He finally approaches his chambers, opening the door and closing it behind him with a resounding thunk. 

When Malleus was finally in his room, his safe place, Malleus’ eyes landed on you, sitting on the bed, covered already by the plush blankets. You looked up at him from what you were doing and, already, Malleus could feel his heart swell with affection for you.

He didn’t even bother to change out of his royal attire, instead heading straight to the bed. Malleus all but threw himself onto you, head resting on your lap and curled up against you. It makes gentle laughter slip past you, the type of laugh that Malleus adores hearing from you. 

“Oh, I missed you...” 

“Was your day that bad?” Your hand went to run through his hair, finger toying with the ends of his locks. Your other hand was already in Malleus’ grasp, being held tightly in his left hand. The ring on his ring finger brushed lightly against your skin, the ring Malleus declared he would never take off unless someone ripped it from his cold, dead hands. The declaration made you laugh, at first, though as time went on it was pretty clear he was serious. 

And you weren’t even sure if fae wore rings to show they were wed either. You’re pretty sure that one of the only reasons he insisted on rings was to integrate a bit of your own culture into his life, perhaps to feel more connected to you. It’s an undeniably sweet gesture that Lilia would always coo and tease the king about it.

Malleus let out another heavy sigh and shook his head, nuzzling further into your body. You exuded a heat that Malleus could find in no one else, a familiar warmth that was like sitting next to the hearth of a fire, yet one that seeped further than his skin and into his heart. 

“Everything is well today. Perhaps I just missed more than usual, my treasure.” Your hand ran through Malleus’ hair, earning a pleased rumble from Malleus in return. His head pushed further into your hand, silently asking for more of the affection that only you can give him. 

His response makes you chuckle in response, twirling a lock of hair between two fingers before continuing to run your hand through his hair. “You always miss me.” 

Malleus looked up at you, a light smile spread across his lips. The look in his eyes could only be described as adoring, a softness that was reserved only when he looks at you present. “Indeed I do. That doesn’t stop how I feel.” His left hand squeezed yours and you returned the gesture, smiling back at Malleus. 

Oh, how he loved to see you smile, specifically to see you smile because of him. It made him feel so soft, so warm in his chest he felt like he was going to be engulfed in flames and reduced to nothing, yet he would gladly welcome being burned if it meant it was because of you. 

You were his warmth among the cold castle that Malleus lived in and he couldn’t ask for it to be anyone else.

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Artist: Dexter Soy

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are now a nurse for the entire Batfamily. You have been asked by Bruce if you are working with the very people he fights against.

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x Female!reader

Warning: Adult language, mentions injuries, sexual language

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part 11: Honesty

“How many villains have you helped in the past? And are you helping them now?”

Everything for me stopped at that moment. Having Bruce’s eyes on me, a certain type of panic filled my chest. I had to mentally remind myself that he was not my father and he was not going to hurt me. That didn’t stop my pulse from racing. It didn’t stop my mouth becoming dry. It didn’t stop the fear that ripped into me so brutally that my hands shook. I picked at the skin around my nails, the stinging pain made me focus. 

I could play dumb, but there was no way Bruce fucking Wayne wouldn’t see right through that. I could deny the accusations and demand to know why he would think that. I could quit and save myself the trouble. 

Or I could do the scariest thing of all… tell the truth. 

Gotham City: 14 Years Ago

I looked across the table at a man who didn’t feel human. He felt closer to a demon, a devil, a monster. He felt truly vile. His eyes were dark, empty, and joyless. He had a smile carved into his face, but I knew it would never meet his eyes. It took everything in me to remain neutral and heal him. 

He had several cuts along his arms, but they were in various positions, various angles, and various lengths. They were random. 

The creature must have noticed me staring, “Little girl, ask me how I got these cuts!” His voice was shrill, and he cackled when he noticed I flinched. When I didn’t say anything he laughed harder. His hand snaked out faster than I could pull away. He gripped the nape of my neck and pressed his forehead to mine. His skin felt loose and cold. It felt undeniably wrong. His dead eyes stared into mine. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, or blink, or move, or scream. I couldn’t do anything. I was at his mercy, and I knew he had so little of it. 

“I said ask me!” He screamed at me and pressed his forehead harder into mine. 

“H-How d-did you g-get those c-cuts, sir?” I asked, unable to keep my voice from trembling. 

The creature released me. I had to fight the urge to turn around and run away. How could my father leave me alone with this man? He had to know I wasn’t safe. I knew he didn’t care about me, but I thought he would want to at least keep his golden goose alive. 

“The Bat gave me these cuts! He and I, we have a repertoire you see. We enjoy playing cat and mouse. And you see little girl, we like to play rough. It was my turn to be a mouse! Gotta keep the relationship fresh! Would you like to be the mouse or the cat?” 

The question felt like a trap. If I answered mouse he would treat me like prey. If I answered cat he would demand I perform violence to prove myself as a predator. The longer I took thinking about it, the more impatient and angry he got. 

“Neither,” I answered honestly. I willed my tired body to heal him faster. 

“Ah ah,” he tsked, reprimanding me, “that is not part of the game. Pick one.”

I have played mouse my whole life. I was sick of being weak. I was sick of being used. 

“I’d want to be a fucking dragon. Not a cat. Not a mouse. I want to breathe fire so I can tell men like you to fuck off and leave me alone. I want men like you to be scared of me,” the words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. 

The Joker tilted his head like he was seeing me for the first time. He smiled at me and began laughing so hard he wheezed. 

“You have a lot of work to do then, little mouse.”

With that, the clown got up and left. The second he was out of the room it felt like I could breathe again. I swallowed hard. 

Tonight was the night. I couldn’t do it anymore. Despite everything the Joker was the one to finally spur me into action.

I ran to my room and lifted up my loose floorboard. I grabbed the cash I had stolen from the safe. I grabbed my go bag. And I ran. 

Gotham City: Present Day

I told Bruce everything. I told him every minute detail. I told him about my mom, my dad, and everything that happened in my life. 

“So, to answer your questions: I don’t know how many there have been, but it has been a lot. And no, I vowed the day that I ran away that I wouldn’t heal another villain again. And that I would never be– I will never be a pawn for someone else.” I would never be a mouse again.

Bruce stood quickly and moved around his desk. He stood before me large and brooding, and then he knelt. 

“I am so sorry, Y/N. You don’t deserve what has happened to you,” his dark voice became surprisingly soft. “And I am sorry for doubting you.”

I felt my eyes start to burn, and I roughly blinked to rid myself of the potential tears. 

“Does this mean I still have a job here?” I laughed weakly. 

“Yes. I value honesty and loyalty above all else.”

I nodded and rose on shaky legs. I left the room without another word. 

I took the elevator down to the Batcave. My nerves felt frayed and split open after reliving my past with Bruce. I needed a distraction. I needed to hit something. 

The elevator doors split open and revealed that I was not the only one who wanted to get a workout in. Dick and Jason stood in the middle of the training mat. Both were shirtless and sweating as they swung fists at each other. For a moment, all I could do was watch like a wide-eyed pervert. 

Jason’s body was riddled with a myriad of scars. I saw evidence of burns, lacerations, gunshots, and of course… the autopsy scar. Dick also had his fair share of scars but it was about ¼ the amount that Jason had. 

Dick had the body of a gymnast. His muscles were lean and lithe. He was built for fluidity and speed just as much as strength. 

Jason was built like a fucking brick house. His shoulders were impossibly broad, and every inch he was covered in thick roped muscle. His physique looked like he had been carved from marble. He was unforgivingly hard and defined. I couldn’t help myself as I stared longer. Despite his size, he kept up with Grayson. For every punch or kick Dick threw at him Jason ducked or blocked accordingly. When he moved to hit back he put his whole body behind the punch. I could see it in the way his thick thighs and hips rotated.  

Jason landed a particularly hard hit on Dick’s shoulder. Dick winced and held up a hand. 

“First: owe that hurt, jackass. Second: I want a break,” Dick said in a sassy tone that made me snort. 

Instantly, both of the men swiveled their heads toward me. I tried pretending like I wasn’t watching them, but something in the gleam of their eyes told me they knew it… and maybe liked it.

Jason smiled at me so brightly that it made my heart clench. 

“Hey, you. Where did you go?” He asked. 

I approached both the boys, “I had to have a meeting with my boss.”

Dick winced, Jason straightened up. “What did the old bastard want?” Jason asked. 

“Information, as per usual,” I replied. It was hard to focus. Jason was dripping in sweat. A bead had run from his forehead, down his face, and ran over his Adam’s apple. I had to force my eyes back up, so I wouldn’t watch it trail lower. 

Jason smirked at me and took a step forward, “Are you ogling me, Y/L/N?”

I could feel my cheeks heat, “Not at all, Todd. I’m just taking in the physical condition of one of my clients.”

Jason laughed, and leaned forward, “Such a good little nurse, aren’t we?”

I rolled my eyes, “Don’t worry I assessed Grayson just as thoroughly.”

Jason’s eyes darkened slightly, “Oh, I doubt that–”

“Okay well, I feel like an awkward third wheel. I’ll leave you guys to it,” Dick said, as he practically ran into the elevator. Before I could rebut his claim the doors were already shut. 

I returned my focus back to Jason and I saw his eyes trail the burn on my cheek and the bruises on my throat. His demeanor completely changed. He became ramrod straight. Every muscle in his body was tense. Even a muscle in his jaw tightened. 

He ran a finger parallel to the burn, “How are you feeling?”

Like I got my ass kicked, “Fine.”

“Be honest,” he practically growled out. 

“Sore,” that was an understatement but I didn’t feel like voicing my pain. Every time I did that with my father he would just tell me to suck it up and stop being a complainer. 

“You’re more than sore. I know you are.”

I shrugged and that seemed to anger him more. I ignored it and redirected the topic. 

“Spar with me?” It was more of a demand than a question.

Taglist: @soundsfunbutno @killxz @morpheus-girl @redhood414 @bungunz @conicoroahre @greenyofthegreens @taytaylala12@theroyalmanatee@nym-0-s@sarahskywalker-amadala@bonesbonesetc@dreaming-of-the-reality@gone-batty-fics @thescarletcryptid@bakugosgf2005@irregular-child@vythika96@greenyofthegreens@mythicalmo@eccentricarabella-blog@princessbl0ss0m @ghostindeath@whirlwind2005@the-lights-are-loud@00hellohello00@tfygcdy@theblindhag@murkyponds@midnightecko @crookedmakerfury@cosmicqueenieb@deans-spinster-witch@princessbl0ss0m @moony-clock@unstablekay@whirlwind2005 @waywardwind21 @astrelz @yl90

If I missed anyone please let me know <3

Author's note: You guys are so slay, ily all <3 Thank you all so much for your kind words, comments, messages, and interactions!! They inspire me to keep writing. I hope you guys continue to enjoy the story, thank you again <3

Hashbrown Cam!

[vizual-static]

DBDPromptober Day 1: Mirrors

First fic! I'll be putting this up on AO3 in the @dbdpromptober collection too in a couple days, but I wanted to start the month off with posting on the proper prompt day, so that means we’re on tumblr for the time being lol. Enjoy!

Blurb: “Oi! You’ll rip your arm clean off! Stop that now!” Charles steps around the edge of the book-laden desk to stand beside Edwin, who looks up at him with his own irritation. The furrow of Edwin’s brow is almost petulant, and there’s a half second where Charles thinks he might rip his own arm off out of spite. Instead, he rolls his eyes and reluctantly stops struggling against the manacle pinning him to the mirror.

Rewrite of the Ep 2 Dandelion Sprites London office research scene: Now with more Coming Outs! 

–

Closet Mirror

“Those tomes are perfectly understandable with a bit of study– If I could just–” Edwin pulls harder against the rippling surface of the standing mirror, wrenching his arm until Charles can practically hear the tendons of his shoulder groaning in protest. 

Concern shoots through Charles, blotting out the frustration that’s been building up over the last hour of dead end research. “Oi! You’ll rip your arm clean off! Stop that now!” He steps around the edge of the book-laden desk to stand beside Edwin, who looks up at him with his own irritation. The furrow of his brow is almost petulant, and there’s a half second where Charles is worried Edwin might rip his own arm off out of spite. Instead, he rolls his eyes and reluctantly stops struggling against the manacle pinning him to the mirror.

Charles puts a hand on Edwin’s shoulder, almost rubbing lightly at the muscle as if to soothe the ache of his over stretched limb before catching himself. He claps him on the shoulder a second time to still his hand. “I know it's driving you mental, mate, but you can’t go tearing yourself to pieces over this, can you? Here, see for yourself. Nothing on page 181 of big, blue Blood and Bone.”

Charles pulls the thick book across the desk, cracks it open, and holds it between them both for Edwin to check for himself. Charles isn’t even annoyed that Edwin keeps insisting he didn’t read the book right. He can tell his friend’s been off all day since the Cat King laid his caging spell, and some of his current misplaced annoyance is obviously from that. So if Charles can soothe that irritation by holding up every book for Edwin to inspect himself with those beautiful blue eyes–

Not going there, mate. Charles thinks to himself as he hoists the book up a little higher. 

Edwin lets out another sigh while leaning in closer to peer at the book. “No, no. I trust that you read it thoroughly,” Edwin says by way of apology, though his eyes do scan over the pages because he really can’t help himself. “I just can’t stand not being able to access the whole collection.”

Charles understands the feeling well enough. He thinks he would also be more than a little twitchy if he was magically barred from his bag of tricks. But there’s something else about how worked up Edwin is that Charles can’t pin down, and he’s pretty sure a certain feline bastard is at the heart of it. 

“Honestly, Edwin, can’t you tell me what really happened with the Cat King?”

Edwin stiffens beside him, not looking up from the book. “I have told you the lot of it. He was uncivil, garish, and I was taken off guard when he spoke close to my ear.”

“He whispered in your ear?!” Something flares hot in Charles’s chest, the embers of this past hour’s frustration sparking back up in an instant. He tosses the book onto the desk and turns to face Edwin fully. 

Edwin coughs and looks away. “Really, Charles, it wasn’t like that.”

Charles’s alarm only grows. “Wasn’t like what, mate? What did he do to you?”

“He did not do anything other than what I have previously described. There is nothing more to it,” Edwin snaps, flicking a cold look back at Charles. 

Charles’s jaw clenches as the urge to push it rolls over him. Charles wants to know what happened in the three hours Edwin was gone. Charles wants to know what that cat freak did to throw ever-perceptive-Edwin off his rhythm so much that he allowed for a magical binding around his wrist. Charles wants to know what he did to put Edwin so on edge. 

He takes a deep breath to smother the flames in his chest. “Look, I’m just worried about you, mate. Gotta make sure the Cat King doesn’t try any more funny business, but I can’t know how to fight the bugger if you won’t tell me about his tricks, can I?”

Edwin seems to soften a little, the rigidness seeping from his posture as he lets his mirror-arm go slack. He lets out a short breath. “I do not believe we’ll need to fight him. He just– As I said, he caught me off guard.”

Charles isn’t itching for a fight (okay, maybe he is), but this resignation from Edwin rubs him the wrong way. “You also didn’t think we’d have to fight the ‘docile’ nymphs in the Case of Singing Lake. Always better to be prepared if we have time to plan and research an enemy’s weakness, though, yeah?” 

“He’s not that kind of threat.” Edwin shoots back too quickly before his mouth presses into a thin line, and Charles can tell he would be pressing his fists together if he had use of both his hands. His voice comes out strange and tight as he continues, “I assure you, Charles, that none of the Cat King’s ploys would work on you. He seems partial to trickery, as you said, but knowing what we do now, I am fairly certain he would not be able to entrap you using the same mind games I fell prey to. Even after that single encounter, I also get the sense that he himself is not one for direct coercion or violence. Therefore, if and when we do encounter him again, I will simply have my mind more well fortified against his tactics, and you should be perfectly fine as you are.”

Charles still doesn’t like the cloudy picture of this “encounter” that he is beginning to fill in from his friend’s vague words. He huffs. “You’re so sure his ‘ploys’ wouldn’t work on me, are you? I’m flattered, mate, but even I know a trickster god could get in my head if he wanted.”

“I do not believe you would fall prey to his flirtations.”

Charles’s eyes widen, and something twists in his gut. “Flirtations?”

Edwin’s eyes mirror his, suddenly realizing he’s said more than he meant to. He opens his mouth mutely and closes it. 

Charles’s temper flares again, suddenly wanting to take a cricket bat to the Cat King’s lair and smash all of his bloody stupid shipping crates to bits, but as quickly as the rage comes, he pushes it deep, deep down. That’s not what this is about right now. 

This is about his friend– his best mate– and the implication laced under this whole bloody opaque conversation that Charles had been too dense to catch. Hell, apparently he’d been too thick to catch it for the past 30 years. 

He didn’t realize Edwin likes blokes. And that feels like the bit Charles can focus on to ease the tension that’s been brewing since they got back. That feels like the thing he can fix right now. Cause, well, Charles’s been keeping a bit of a secret too, hasn’t he? 

He leans back against the rim of the mirror, letting his head rest against the wood frame as he smooths out his features and gives Edwin what he hopes is a convincing smile. 

“You’re right. He’s not my type.” 

Edwin blinks and turns away, huffing out a nervous laugh before picking up a random book off the corner of the desk and flipping it open. “Right. Exactly.”

“Not that he’s not fit in kind of a Loki way. But I don’t usually go for dickheads who kidnap my best mate, so I should be safe.”

Edwin whips his head around, nearly dropping the book, and Charles springs up off the mirror to catch it, steadying it in Edwin’s hands. Suddenly the two boys are up in each other’s space, and Charles’s chest feels tight for a different reason. He drops his hands. 

Edwin is studying Charles with wide eyes, trying to puzzle through his meaning. If Charles could blush, he knows his cheeks would be hot under his friend’s pretty gaze. 

“Well, yes. Obviously. Though my assessment was based on the fact that you don’t usually go for– Or, rather– That you tend to express more of an interest in–” Edwin stumbles, like he’s editing himself midsentence, “... People like Crystal.”

Given the course of this conversation and, you know, 30 odd years of friendship, Charles knows the next part will be okay, but he can’t help the twinge of nerves that shoots through him either. Internalized biphobia is a bitch, yeah? He tries not to fidget, though, keeping a soft slouch to his shoulders to remain “casual” as he allows for this revelation. This is Edwin, afterall. And it seems the two of them share this too. 

“Girls, you mean?” Charles says the quiet part out loud. 

Edwin makes a soft noise of agreement, almost an afterthought, eyes still fixed on Charles with something between anxiety and the intensity of trying to solve a case. 

Charles forces himself to smile through the nerves. “I mean, yeah, girls are pretty brills. But blokes aren’t too bad either, are they? So, you know, if you need to factor that into your calculations about the Cat King. I could theoretically be wooed by a trickster god like him. If he wasn’t a giant knob.”

A small smile slips past Edwin’s guard, but he’s still quiet for a moment. As he searches Charles’s face for sincerity it grows wider, dimpling his cheeks in the most genuine smile Charles’s seen on him all day. It makes his insides go all soft seeing that smile.

“I will make note of it for future cases,” Edwin says, overly formal, of course, but there’s a conspiratorial edge to his voice like it's an inside joke. 

Charles half expects Edwin to pull out his notebook and write down these new “findings,” and Charles laughs to himself before lightly bumping Edwin’s shoulder. He feels warm and a little giddy with having told this to somebody after so long– his best friend no less– and having it go so well for both of them. 

They stay like that for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, Edwin looking down at whatever book he picked up and Charles looking out over their slightly messy office, not trusting himself to face Edwin head on lest his overwhelming fondness show up too plainly on his face. It’s a fondness he’s not quite willing to name yet. But he tucks that away to be examined later. For now he’s just pleased that he helped Edwin to relax a smidge, and let him know he’s not alone. 

Edwin makes a startled noise beside him, and straightens up, causing Charles to jump to attention in confusion. Edwin looks sheepish. “I just felt a tug on my sleeve back in Port Townsend. Likely Crystal. We should bring back as many books as we can carry and continue searching through them back at her apartment. Hopefully nothing too dire has happened with Niko while we were dawdling.”

Charles rolls his eyes at “dawdling,” but he scoops up an armful of books with a grin. “Right. Plus she can help us look through them too.”

Charles starts back towards the mirror before Edwin strains forward, reaching towards a book on the far end of the desk. “Be sure to collect the–”

Charles pauses and throws him a look, one leg already phasing through the mirror. “Oi! What did I just say about that arm?”

Edwin drops his outstretched arm with an exasperated groan, turns around, and passes through the mirror back into Crystal’s flat without another word. Charles just shakes his head fondly and follows.

[makrokosmuss-blog]

Cold to the touch

Summary: Bi-Han has you, prisoner of the Lin Kuei, with your back against the wall, wanting nothing in this realm more than your submission and respect. That you defy him again and again somehow pleasures him even more.

Warning: Nothing serious. Some boundary breaking. Two very broad brothers being very territorial. Reader can be either seen as reader or Harumi. Part I Full Story is on Ao3, found here

She was sleeping. Her hair had dried during the night, after it had been soaked through in the rain yesterday. Now it was laying softly around her head and over her cheekbone. Her chest was rising and falling slowly in deep slumber. He could make out traces of dried blood on her ripped undershirt, where his ice had pierced her skin. Watched closely, at the curve of her soft lips. At her eyes, resting closed, long eyelashes fluttered chut against her cheeks.

Smoke and her lay close. The boy even had her Shirt draped over him still. Bi-Han crouched between them, grasping it. The fabric was soft and he could make out it’s faint, sweet smell. It too had dried and warmed by the fire next to them. A fire that was slowly fading off, since his brother had stopped to spurt it on.

Other than those two here, who seemed dead, as silent as they were in their slumber, Kuai Liang was snoring away behind him. Had since he was a child. And it had awfully bothered the older, since he had been a child as well. Just as back then, Bi-Han grimaced at his brother, then turned to the woman again.

His fascination with her was ever growing. To his absolute surprise. He had seen her fight him. She was not just good. But brilliant. A kind of brilliant that frightened him to the core. Having grown up, learning that no one could ever rival the force and might of the Lin Kuei, it was a shock to see her handle his brother like that.

If her Clan had truly trained her, then she must either be too talented to be with them or they would need to be erased before growing in strength further. His eyes were cold as he looked down upon her. But his feelings swirled within him.

He had not ever seen a woman fight like she had. Had envied his brother for facing her in Combat, as he saw their dance, their connection. Even more so as he laid eyes on her. She was as beautiful as fierce to him. Truly a waste to have her sacrificed for the retaliation and submission of her clan. The thoughts in his head ran rampant. Maybe no sacrifice would be necessary. Maybe there were other uses for her.

Without thinking about it much, his mind occupied by thought of war and strategy, he had replaced her shirt, which he had taken from Smoke, over her body. If it was not for the waging war between their clans, he could form an alliance with her. She had the skill, surely. And she was fierce. She was trained in the art of war and strategy, a clever woman. And a beautiful woman, he dreamed again, watching her from up so close. His eyes trailing over each part of her body, spread out before him. They stayed with her face once more. Fascinated, Captivated. Had found the need and curiosity of running his hand through her hair too greatly to withstand then. Without his gloves on, he followed that urge. Touching her cheek, then running over it, tangling into her hairline. Feeling the softness and fullness of it, after it had curled due to the rain yesterday.

And then feeling the sting of her fiery gaze, as her eyes had opened and found him the second he had touched her. It only made him smile. To see her so intense in her disapproval of his touch. Like a cat, woken from her midday rest, she glared at him. Elegant and beautiful and untamed. So much spite in that woman, so much hostility. So much will.

“I’d advise against ever touching me without my consent. Prince of the Lin Kuei.” Her tone was a sleepy mixture of fierceness and whisper. A growl so soft only a woman could produce it. It did things to him. Stirred him in a way that he was not quite sure he was comfortable with. Which in turn made him more prone towards it. He felt his stomach turning at her tone in the best possible way.

“Give your consent then.” He challenged, a grin not hidden in his voice as he watched her getting up and away from him in a way both elegant and distinctly hostile.

Oh did he love that he did not see a hint of fear in her eyes. He would love to break her majestic facade.

He rose from his kneeling form with her. Again towering over her, as she took skillful steps back and away from him.

“Why would you want it? My consent? And to what ends?” When she asked, there was a clear curiosity in her voice and gaze alike. He had asked that himself. Why would he want her? Why was he fascinated by her? He’d found many reasons then. Too above her to list them, he answered in a shrug, following up to her.

Still she did not look scared. Not as she noticed his gaze traveling down her body and not as he fixed it on her eyes again. She was regal looking even, she held her head high, showing defiance rather than Worry over his dominant form.

“I simply admired your hair. And when I want to touch something, I do. Because I can.”, he finally admitted, trying to resolve their strange tension.

He stood close now, after she had stopped to back off. Close enough to touch, although he did behave himself. “Oh. My hair. I see.”, she spoke, her voice seeping with sarcasm. “It’s your skills really. You baffle me. A strange fascination. As if with a Mountain Lion.” It was grand of him to praise. He very rarely did this. And as he did, his hand rising to meet her, he grasped for a strand of her hair once more, letting it run through his fingers, as her eyes watched him closely. No hint of enjoyment of his precious admiration on her part. Rather cold disdain. She did not push him off though.

She spoke softly then, and yet with an edge to her. “You are the first son, the heir to the grandmaster. I am sure Women with more beautiful hair than mine pile at your feet, begging for your appreciation.” He smiled to himself at that. She was clever too. “Maybe I find liking in you because you don’t throw yourself at my feet.”

He watched curiously as she lifted a brow. Frowning at him, before stating: “You will never see me do such a thing, no. Nor will I ever grant permission of touch. So take your hands off me. Bi-Han.” With that she had placed her hand, so tender and soft, against his chest, giving him a solid shove, her eyes staring at him coldly.

A low, rasp growl escaped him. He did not like that at all. Or did he? Nonetheless, he wanted to, needed to show her how to have respect. He would not accept treatment as such. Swiftly he grasped for her shoulders, first pulling her around and then pushing her up hard against the next tree. Pinning her before him.

She winced. Then hissed at the pain and at him, once more reminding him so very much of an elegant and beautiful cat. He did not mind the little pain he caused her. Not when she was showing so little respect toward the Lin Kuei. Bi-Han took a good while to stare her down then. To put her in her place or take his time giving into obscure fantasies, he did not know. She looked so alluring to him. Absolutely devine in his grasp, so close to him. There was a burning warmth growing in his abdomen. He watched her eyes, the shape of her face, the curve of her lips. Lips looking so soft and so full that he could not stop himself and his want to touch them. Without much restraint he let go of her shoulder, cupping her cheek. Watching her closely as he carefully, ever so softly ran his thumb over her bottom lip. Careful and soft were not usual for him. Yet with her...he had no want to hurt her. Or do anything really against her will. But oh - did he want her to want him. To just give in. Just once. She would simply need a push. He was sure of it.

He bowed his head down towards hers, his cold gaze meeting the rebellious glimmer in her eyes. As he came even closer then, closing the gap of inches between them, he had positioned his head aside hers. Her cheek brushed against his, covered by mask, as he whispered to her in a tone that only made him notice how angered and yet pleasantly agitated he was.

“Do you truly think I need Permission? You are my prisoner.” He spoke this in a whispered tone. His voice even deeper than usual. Give in. He hoped, prayed that she would. Surrender to him in the sweetest, softest delightful way.

He was nearly shocked then, as even in such circumstances she did not falter, even a little. Instead of submitting, she did the opposite once more. Her hand resting on his side, grasping at his robes, the other on his cheek, forcefully turning his head toward her, to face her relentlessly fiery stare. In this demonstration of dominance, wanting her to flinch away from him so badly, she had chosen to get him closer. Not an inch separated them now as she looked him straight in his eyes, her voice filled with disdain and challenge as she raspily hissed at him: “You do need my permission. Since you do not have it, you will need to face me for what you want. And believe me i would fight with all my might, since I would rather lay down my life before having my honor tainted by a man as yourself.”

Her hand still grasped his jaw. Having him between her thumb and fingers, squeezing his mask rather harshly to hold him in position. The other still rested on his side. He felt her nails bearing into his skin. Felt the tension rise to endless heights pressed so close to her, still challenged by her, as she continued: “Do you think I don’t know what you are doing, Bi-Han? You have no interest in me. You are much too honorable and reasonable a man to be controlled by your urges. All you want to do is scare me into submission. All you need is my resounding respect and admiration. Let me tell you, Sub-Zero: You will not earn it this way.”

It had been like a punch to the gut that he had felt then. One that stirred his instincts more than any woman ever had. And oh she was wrong about one thing. She did interest him. Greatly. Highly so.

His jaw pressed shut tightly, grinding his teeth, he thought of an answer. Yet before he could speak again, he felt himself being grabbed and forcefully pulled back.

A force so strong he knew the second he had felt it that it could only be one person pulling him from her. And catching himself in his stumbling he glanced up, bearing his teeth at his brother, who was staring him down in anger and more so, burning rage.

Bi-Han was not interested in him. His eyes trailing over her again, instead. Now half covered by the broad frame of Kuai Liang. She was watching him as well. Her gaze and expression still and observing and questioning.

Questioning his intentions maybe. He himself did that. Only wanting her to fear him, to respect him, yet she did not. And then now, there was someone between them, holding him off on more of his testing.

Since neither had spoken a word and the younger had just awoken to the sight of their prisoner pushed up against a tree by him, he was the first to demand an answer. “Bi-Han?” His name in his brothers mouth came out more as a challenging growl than anything else. An enraged symbol of the want for answers, that showed Bi-Han very clearly that he was not the only one interested in you.

@oranoyaora, @soggychocolatewaffles, @genesiswrld, @deadlydivergentgirl

[weirdmorefics]

Unmasked Chpt 3

Chpt 1 Chpt 2

AO3 Etsy, Youtube

TW- Graphic gore

Taglist- @bunbunbl0gs

AN- Sorry for the delay been without power for a few days due to the insane storm in Maine.

Word Count- 2,386

Spencer drove the van to my aunt's house where I figured out my sister was by texting Dewy. Spencer immediately got into the driver's side without asking me to drive which struck me as odd because I know how much he despises driving. The car was filled with uncomfortable silence I could easily sense Spencer was still upset with me for hiding so much. I wish he would just understand I did this to protect them even though it clearly did not work. I begin to pick at the skin around my nails the old habit that always seems to come back when I am in terrible situations. My nails and skin were already scabbing from me anxiously picking them during the flight and I could easily pick at the old scabs. As I reached to mess with the barely healed wounds Spencer grabbed my hand and placed it in his.

"You really shouldn't pick at those your red blood cells just spent hours scabbing them over. That's a lot of work for the cells to do for you to just carelessly rip them off," he says factually not letting go of my hand.

I smile at him just thankful he's talking to me after the cold shoulder I had been receiving from him.

"My sister is going to be so mad when she sees me," I mutter.

"You are worried about that over the masked killer right now?" Spencer's lip quirks into a slight smirk.

I roll my eyes, "Of course I am but you have not seen the fury of Sidney Prescott especially when you don't listen."

"I am assuming it's similar to your fury, you have quite a temper of your own," he grins and it feels like how we used to be. Before Scratch, Cat Addams, and my true identity came into the picture.

I sigh, "You know I am really sorry for hiding this all from you. I trust you most in the world but I hide my background for the well-being of others. Ghostface targets those closest to you and won't stop till all your loved ones are dead or he's dead."

Spencer's hand grips mine tighter, "I understand why you didn't tell me. I kept secrets too, to protect my mother but you saw where that landed me. We are better when we work together as a team."

I inhale deeply, "I suppose you're right."

I swallow deeply as we pull into the driveway, Spencer reluctantly drops my hand so we can both exit the van. I clench and unclench my fist in preparation to knock on the door. I knock once and hear quick rushing around inside then Dewey greets us at the door gun in hand.

I raise my hands up and so does Spencer, "Chill Dewey, it's just me."

He shifts his gun to Spencer, "Who's the guy?"

"He's another agent at the BAU I trust him with my life," I state.

He lowers his gun, "Yeah, you and Sidney don't have the best track record with that."

"I missed you to," I say bitterly.

Sidney appears at the mention of her name and her eyes widen in surprise, "I told you to do one thing Y/N! Not come back to Woodsboro! What are you doing here?"

"You forget this type of stuff is my job Sid," I mock.

"This is different, and you know it! They don't want to kill a stranger they want to kill you," She shouts.

Spencer chimes in, "Agent L/N is not alone the BAU team is here."

Sidney's eyes narrow on him as if noticing his presence for the first time, "L/N? Oh right, you are still using the fake last name. Do they even know who you are and what you have gotten them into?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose, "Yes, they know... Ghostface called."

Worry instantly coats her face, "He called you! You are alright aren't you?" She instantly starts scanning for any visible injuries.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," I brush off her worry.

"Nice seeing you Y/n, and talking to you Sidney. I have to get back to the station to meet with Y/n's team," Dewey lets us know as he makes his exit as his radio chatters.

"I am going upstairs to check on Jill. She got a call this morning too," Sid sighs.

"I'll come with I haven't seen my cousin since she was a baby," I reminisce.

The silence between me and my sister is defining I am encountering that awkward silence a lot today. We walk upstairs to Jill's room Spencer right behind us and Sid knocks once before entering.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I hope I wasn't interrupting anything," Sid backs out quickly of the doorway and blocks my view.

"No, sorry, he was just leaving. He's my ex, " Jill defends quickly.

"Oh," Sid pauses as we both exchange knowing looks.

"The one and only," the said ex responds. "It's cool to meet you... officially. I keep meaning to pick up a copy of your book but I keep forgetting to... you are much smaller in person."

This guy was really starting to give me the creeps but Sidney just chuckled in response. He climbed out the window without saying another word. It felt like deja vu almost, a reminder of Billy Loomis sneaking into my cool older sister's room through her own window then nearly killing me a few days later.

My heart pounded at the memory and I assume my sister's did too because Jill turned to face us confused by our faces and asked, "What?"

"Nothing. You just... uh remind me of me," Sidney stuttered.

Jill laughed and I interjected, "Lock your windows... please."

"Y/n, I didn't know you were coming?" Noticing my presence.

"Had to keep my baby cousin safe didn't I?" I smile

She smiles back, "You really didn't have to."

"Of course I did! That's what family is for. Get sleep, okay?"

Sidney shuts the door and as we turn around we are jumped by the presence of another officer. Even Spencer did not notice the new cop's presence which makes me suspicious of her immediately.

"Just checking in, making the rounds," She tries to ease our nerves.

"Great. Thanks," Sid responds.

I flash my badge, "Thanks but I've got it covered." Spencer gives me an odd look as I brush the cop off.

"Kinda hard to have it covered when you're one the targets. Don't you think?" Her response made my anxiety increase ten times more than it already was. "You two don't remember me? Do you?"

"Excuse me," Sid jumps in.

"Judy Hicks? We went to high school together. We had the same homeroom and drama club. Y/n you used to be so little Sidney would sneak you into drama rehearsals because you loved Shakespeare. We were in Peterpan together I played a lost boy. Sidney was ...Tiger Lily." She tries to jog our memory failing miserably. I honestly think I blocked out my whole childhood just to forget the trauma but the trauma was the only thing to stay.

Sidney speaks for the both of us, "I'm sorry, that was a long time ago."

"It's okay you two both had a lot going on back then," she says sympathetically.

I feel Spencer's gaze on the back of my head but I don't want to turn around to face him because I know only pity will fill his eyes.

"Well, it was nice to see you again Judy," Sid responds.

She smiles and says, "You too," before exiting.

Sidney turns to me, "You really should not have come here Y/n."

"I had to! Ghostface won't stop until they have their perfect stop," I yelled in annoyance.

"Yet you got more people involved," her gaze directed on Spencer.

"I trust him! I trust my team!"

"Come on Y/n we can't trust anyone! And you know it! You haven't used your real last name in years. That is the epitome of distrust," she shouts back.

I clench my fists unsure how to get through to her and Spencer puts his hand on my shoulder, "I won't let anything happen to your sister. I swear my life on it."

"It might come to that... it often does," she responds coldly.

The argument comes to a sudden stop when screaming is heard from Jill's bedroom. Spencer and I instantly draw our weapons and rush into the room. Jill and her friend are pressed up against the window screaming. Spencer is quick to rush them out of the way and Sidney backs up in shock as soon as she sees the scene unfolding. Ghostface is brutally attacking Jill's neighbor with no remorse.

"Reid! Do you have a shot?"

He tries to aim his gun, "No, they're moving too much!"

"Screw it," I rush out of the room and Sidney rushes after me.

"L/N! Shit Prescott!" I hear Reid shout.

I can tell he is really mad by the swearing which he hardly ever does but I don't have time for his feelings right now. I won't let Ghostface hurt me or my family ever again.

Sid shouts for the cops as I continue to run for the house. I try the door but it is locked so I bust the window open with the butt of my gun. I run up the stairs and hear quick footsteps follow behind me.

"The cops are missing," Sid shouts.

"Of course they are," I sigh as I run.

We sneak into the room using the wall as cover. We enter into a horrific scene blood splattered all over the walls and the poor girl's organs falling out of her. Sidney sinks to the ground trying to keep her breaths even. I hold my gun tighter, I am used to scenes like this while working at the BAU, but this is a new level of overkill.

A phone somewhere in the room starts to ring. Sidney and I exchange glances as I walk towards the phone to pick it up.

"Welcome home Y/n. Nice of you to join us, though I wouldn't say I gave you much of a choice. I hope you and Sidney enjoyed my preview of the movie." I could hear the smirk in his voice over the phone.

I swallow deeply and growl, "Why don't you say that to my face."

"Oh Y/n, we both know you are not star material. Hiding away solving crimes so you don't have to face your own. Put your sister on the phone why don't you?" The mechanical voice of my nightmares mocks me.

I put the phone on speaker and Sidney shouts an aggravated, "What!"

"It is time to relinquish your stardom to someone who actually deserves it, Sidney," Ghostface seethes and I can tell this is what it is really all about for this Ghostface. The fame.

"This isn't a fucking movie!" Sid shouts.

"It will be," the grin in his voice could be heard.

"These people are innocent!" I jump into the conversation.

"Shut it Y/n! This isn't about you! Sidney understands she has done quite well under all this bloodshed," the caller's emotions are up and down like a yo-yo.

"I am going to slit your eyelids in half Sidney so you can watch when I gut your sister like a fish! Just like the town you left gutted in your wake of destruction. Then you will die when I want you to! Not a moment before or a moment after! Until then you suffer," Ghostface screams.

"Sid, none of this is your fault," I assure her.

"Y/n!" I hear Spencer shout from downstairs he must be ticked to be using my first name in the field.

"Sidney," Jill shouts after Reid. Damn, what was he doing letting civilians over here... I'm no better I let my sister over here too.

"Jill?" Sid questions loudly.

I hear Spence and Jill's footsteps on the stairs. Sidney is quick to block the doorway with her body.

"Ried! What are you doing letting my cousin up here!" I shout.

"What are you doing here without backup!" He shouts back at me equally mad.

Jill tries to look around Sidney, "Is she alive?"

"Do not look! Okay?" Sid shouts

"She said you were the angel of death," she looks at Sidney in fear.

I frown at the statement when I see Ghostface appear behind Spencer and Jill.

"Look out!" Sid shouts too late as Ghostface slices Jill's arm.

Jill falls to the ground and I am quick to shove Spencer out of the way of Ghostface. I stumble down the stairs and unfortunately drop my gun. Ghostface swiftly kicks my gun away from my reach. I rapidly stand trying to find a makeshift weapon and slam a picture frame over their head. Ghostface sweeps my legs and I fall hard onto my back knocking the air out of my lungs. Ghostface hovers over my body knife in their hand. I struggle to flip them over but eventually I do and Ghostface rolls down the stairs and so do I.

"Y/n," I hear Spencer shout and quick footsteps.

I turned to look which was definitely a bad decision as Ghostface yanked my hair and held a knife to my throat. I kicked my foot backwards into his shin which caused them to drop the knife. I turn and sucker punch the bastard in the face knocking them to the ground.

Two town policemen burst through the door, "Where is he?"

I turn to point but am shocked to find him missing, "He-he was just here."

"We'll check out back," They say exiting.

Spencer grabs my face in his hands leaving me utterly shocked as he turns my face side to side checking for injuries.

"What were you thinking shoving me out of the way!" He shouts.

"Protecting your life! He will kill you right away! You aren't important to his movie," I defend

"And what part do you play in this movie?" He asks

"It- it doesn't matter," I stutter out.

"Y/n, what part do you play in this movie?" He repeats himself sternly.

I gulp, "For my sister to fail to save me one last time."

[faithdeans]

fic recs let's gooo

these some of my personal favourite long-form/multi-chap fics

***please mind the tags! the horror fics are kinda fucked up and i know that isn't for everyone so just make sure you know what you're about to read ps i might make a separate list for other horror fics?***

under the cut because there are so many sorry and i added comments because i can't shut up apparently.

so, in alphabetical order....

The Cheapest Room In The House by biggaybenny [E | 89k]

what if instead of a very sincere and earnest love confession dean just found out cas was gay? no confession, no god-jack endgame. just post-s15 stupidity. just dean being deranged. the dean downloads grindr for cas fic

you know it, you love it. thee chaotic boy besties fic with parts that will also rip you open

Fenario by ftmsteverogers (@/sodomitecastiel) [E | 47k]

“We did good, Dean,” Sam says. “We got him back.” Dean huffs a hollow laugh, because yeah, that’s always what it’s about, isn’t it? Cas or Sam or Dean getting themselves lost or dead, and then taking turns dragging each other back from the brink. He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “We got him back, yeah,” he says. Sam nods, watching him. “So now what?”

once again you know it and you love it. THEE lake house fix it fic. also love that they are jewish and you can tell how much of the author's heart clearly went into this. one of those fics where it will ususpectingly knock you to your knees with a single sentence

Linden by fleeceframe (@/tasteslikevelvet) [E | 67k]

Castiel’s heart stumbles before he can stop it, before he can think about how pathetic that is. To think that every interaction the Swans have proceeds them, that everyone is just waiting to get a glimpse of one of them to fuel their gossip circles for the next three days. Even the invisible shy flutter in his stomach at the thought of the Swans (not the Swans, just one of them, just one single man, but is that any better?) makes Castiel feel like he’s participating in the blatant objectification that he’s uncomfortable just witnessing. The Swans are only people. This is something that Castiel holds onto. Just people who happen to have a generational curse in their bloodline. And when he interacts with Sam Winchester or Eileen Leahy at his stall, it’s easy. He says hello, they say hello back. The Swans are just people. And yet, Dean Winchester remains unfathomable.

ohhhh this fic feels like springtime and sunlight through the trees and everything that is good. i devoured this fic, it is so sweet and captivating and wonderfully poetic. a comfort read fr

The Lord of The Lake by rhinestoneangels (almondrose) (@pinknatural) [T | 29k]

The lakehouse is haunted.

this fic is so special to me. there's emma. there's a cat. they're a FAMILY. there's ACE DEAN!?? it's thee ace!dean fic for me and steph did such a wonderful job exploring that

Muder Ballads (Red Right Hand) by Duckyboos [E | 85k+]

It all starts with the mysterious note left on Dean’s chair. It all ends with Dean coming to terms not only with what he’s capable of, but how much that knowledge doesn’t bother him.

hehe this is one of the ones you need to make sure you're comfortable with before you read it... it's yeah.. it's real dark. the storytelling is so compelling and i could NOT put this down. sometimes you gotta read something kinda fucked up. especially when it is so well written. also if you do like this then i recommend everything duckyboos has written hehe

Put Up Your Dukes by saltyfeathers [E | 38k]

Dean can't sleep. Cas offers to tire him out.

i mean *i* have always considered this a classic. honestly it's so fun and funny and just ugh i just love it, so read it pls

Revelation 13 by fullvoid [E | 44k]

It’s Dean’s day off, and he’d like to spend it how he always does—by kicking his feet up with a cold one and watching soap operas—not by discovering an enormous, creepy hole in his bathroom wall that definitely wasn’t there when he went to bed last night. But it’s no big deal. He can just patch it up and still devote plenty of time to Dr. Sexy afterward. There is only one problem. He can’t leave his apartment, and there’s a message on his front door written in…is that blood? And why is it signed by someone named “Cas”? Things can only get better from here, right?

hehe i know nothing about silent hill but i DO know that this is an amazing horror fic!! read it in one sitting and would do it again!

Russian to the Altar by MalMuses [E | 144k]

“I need you to marry Castiel.” They weren’t the words Dean expected to hear from his business partner’s mouth before their bakery-slash-chocolate shop opened for the day. He’d been quite happy being single—and who the fuck was Castiel, anyway? It turned out that Castiel was a Russian erotic novelist in need of a ticket to America, and Dean… well, Dean was a last resort.

i LOVE a romcom fic and this one is soooo fantastic (it's a classic, right?) it has bdsm. it has destiel being idiots in love. it's also incredibly sweet. what more could you want?

Seek to Know You Better by ahurston [E | 33k]

Dean and Cas, a long stretch of highway, and 36 questions empirically designed to make two people fall in love. As if they weren't already.

CANONVERSE ROMCOM? YEAH.

The Shawnee Trail by emmbrancsxx0 (@/valleydean) [E | 166k]

In 1887, Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak lead a peaceful life in Lawrence, Kansas. Dean and Sam are stagecoach messengers for Wells, Fargo and Castiel is the town doctor. When Castiel's patient, Kelly Kline, knocks on their door one night about to give birth, she asks for the Winchesters and Castiel's help in protecting her son against one of the west's most notorious outlaws. To fulfill that promise, the men set out on a journey full of shootouts, trouble with the law, gambling, and an important discovery: Dean and Castiel really need to define the nature of their relationship.

WESTERN AU. also to quote myself: "fics that make you pace around your room at midnight while sobbing". also once again i can't believe this isn't a piece of classic literature it's just that damn good.

So Says The Sword by komodobits [E | 85k]

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’ Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected.

we all agree this is canon, right? a classic. it completely shook me up the first time i read it, and honestly it change my perspective of the entire show, for the better of course.

Vagabonds by chevrolangels [E | 89k]

Dean is a sheriff in a tiny town in Colorado, restless and unsatisfied with his life. It's not like what he's read about in the dime novels since he was little, capturing dangerous outlaws and being the last word of the law. More like tossing the town drunk in a cell to sober up when they get a little too rowdy. But Dean's chance comes when a thief rolls through their town. He pursues the thief, which puts him right into the path of Emmanuel, a notorious outlaw. When he is captured by the outlaw and his gang to be held for ransom, Dean starts off on a journey he could have never envisioned, and learns that perhaps there's more to Emmanuel than meets the eye.

another western au!! this list would not be complete without this fic. one of my very faves. it's my ultimate comfort fic. i get so sad whenever i finish it because i never want it to end. i can't praise it enough i don't have the words

What Baking Can Do by cowlovely (@dollhousemary) [T | 63k]

She lets out a low whistle. “Damn,” she says, not even bothering to look up as Dean comes to sit on the counter beside her. “You guys did well yesterday, huh?” Dean shrugs. “I guess. Wednesdays get a lot of foot traffic. Dunno why.” Jo gives him a sidelong look. “It’s because on Wednesdays, we have your ‘Strawberry Heaven Pie’ or whatever the hell you call it.” “Strawberry Chocolate Oasis Pie,” he corrects. “And there’s absolutely no way to prove that. People probably just like to get some sorta treat in the middle of the week or whatever.” “I absolutely can prove that, when was the last time any of that pie was left at the end of the day—hell, at the end of the morning shift?” “Okay, that’s definitely an exaggeration,” he retorts. “It’s never sold out before lunch.” “Can you stop being a bitch and accept that people like your pie?”

i have no idea what waitress is and it literally doesn't matter because ivy makes this its whole own world... if you want something insanely sweet, with amazing character depth and that feels like a warm hug, look no further. this is one of my comfort fics and i have read it multiple times and will read it again!!!!!

Who Ya Gonna Call? by saintedcastiel (@saintedcastiel) [M | 49k]

Finally free from Chuck's machinations, Dean flees the bunker to make a home for himself away from the hunting world. He settles into his new life but can't quite shake the feeling that he's not alone. There's a ghost haunting him, tied to the last thing on Earth that Castiel touched. As the spirit gets angrier and more dangerous to the people around him, will Dean be able to bring himself to let him go?

if you're reading this the day i post this you might have seen me losing my mind on the dash. read it one sitting because it pulled me in instantly and would not let me go. so beautifully written and it's... it's the ending we deserved. i think this needs to be the next fandom classic i am Not joking. one of the few fics that made me sob my eyes out i don't even know what to say anymore just read it please trust me it's WONDERFUL.

[daydreaming-jessi]

I have returned for but a moment. Now back to the mist I go.

“Be-ej!”

Beetlejuice felt over a hundred pounds hop onto his back, causing his spine to make a disgusting pop, fully disrupting his pretend nap (Though it was really just an excuse to be splayed fully out in the hallway and be in the way of any attempted passerby.) He balefully cracked his eyes open and rolled them through his eye sockets until they peeked out through the back of his head to glare at Lydia, who was currently standing on him. For some reason she was holding a broomstick in hand.

“Whaddya want, pipsqueak?” He asked, blinking away the hair jabbing at his unprotected eyeballs.

“It’s Halloween.” Lydia looked down at him with her typical cat-that-got-the-canary look she got whenever she came up with a particularly devious scheme.

“Yes? I am aware of the passage of time thanks to you breathers’ weird attachment to clocks.” He gestured to the tacky Art Deco clock hung up on the wall ticking away endlessly next to them. Delia had bought it, thanks to his goading, at an art expos she dragged him to as some sort of bonding experience. To his delight, the Maitlands did their damndest to politely pretend they didn’t detest it every time they walked by it.

Lydia continued on pointedly, regaining his attention. “Since it’s Halloween, that means it’s time to put on our costumes. That includes you!”

Beetlejuice sat up, finally making her hop off. He raised an eyebrow at her general vicinity while his eyes popped back into place, his vision taking a moment to reorient itself. “I thought all holidays were overblown scams by puritan capitalist overlords that only you ennui maddened teenagers saw through, and thus refused to participate in on principle.”

“Well yeah, most of them, and Halloween doesn’t exactly escape the exploits of the vultures that make up the one percent, but how often do we get to appreciate Halloween on the hunter’s moon? Capitalistic doctrine can rip this day from my cold, dead, heretic hands, I’m allowed to have fun for one night.” This seemed to be one of those sticking points Lydia would follow through on, so Beetlejuice let it go.

“Fair enough, but I gotta point out that you’re not exactly gonna stand out at any college witch coven party.” He flicked one of her sleeves pointedly. She wore a simple, dark navy dress, nothing special about it. Truly the only new addition was the red bow tying back her raven black hair from her face and the simple, dull pink flats instead of her heavy, buckle laden, face stomping boots.

Lydia pulled the skirt of her dress up and shook it emphatically, scowling. “Come on, Beej, I’m Kiki! From that movie I showed you yesterday, genius.”

“Looks the same as every other outfit you wear.” He yawned. His glee continued to grow as Lydia’s glare deepened. It was always fun when he managed to rile her up a bit for once.

“Since when do I wear giant red bows in my hair and carry around pink bags?” She tugged on said bow while holding out the strap of said bag. Before he could come up with some elaborate lie, she shook her head with an annoyed click of her tongue. “Never mind, that’s not the point. What this whole thing was leading up to was that I wanna know if you wanna help me complete my costume, making your own in the process.”

“Your vagueness is starting to make me suspicious. What are you suggesting, Scarecrow?” Beetlejuice asked, his eyes narrowing warily.

She gestured sweetly with her broom. “I’m suggesting you play the part of my faithful witch companion, Jiji.”

Beetlejuice’s eyes widened, and he grinned. “Aw hell yeah! I’ll finally get to be what I eat!”

“If you keep talking, I will stab you again.”

“Pus-“

“Don’t.”

Beetlejuice‘s grin turned serious as he pointed at Lydia emphatically. “What’s in it for me though? This seems to be unfairly in your favor.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Seriously? Is the idea of hanging out all night in graveyards, scaring the shit out of drunk party goers and trick-or-treaters, being ‘bfffffffs’ really not good enough for you?” She put on a weak grin that pretty quickly dropped at Beetlejuice’s unimpressed stare.

But then he clapped his hands and did a fist pump. “Aw yeah!! The bio exorcist besties are gonna paint the town red tonight!”

Huh, guess she wouldn’t have to dip into her stash of embarrassing bribery photos tonight.

He snapped up to his feet, twisting his spine into shape with another loud crunch. At this rate, one would expect to see his head start glowing. “Alright, so I’ll do it, ‘cause it does sound like an interesting way to fuck around with people, but I’m gonna put my own spin on this. No whining about screen inaccuracies.”

She rolled her eyes, hiding a smile. “I’ll have an actual talking cat, I think I’ll have most people beat on accuracy.”

He grinned before poofing into a cloud of glittery stage smoke, leaving a healthy helping behind in the carpet. When the cloud dissipated, it revealed a black and white striped cat with a messy, barely groomed tail.

Lydia could hardly believe her eyes. “Oh my god, you're actually a cat!”

Beetlejuice inspected his form, making sure there weren’t any stray eyeballs or extra organs lurking in his fur coat. It’d been a while since he’d gone for something this mundane.

“Huh, not bad! Even I impress myself sometimes. Now then, I think it’s time we enjoy this Hallow’s Eve to the fullest. How ‘bout you, Scarecrow?” He asked, hopping onto Lydia’s shoulders. She tried not to cringe at the acrid stench of smoke that still clung to his fur.

“Oh yeah, definitely wanna get out of here before Dad tries to take a billion pictures,” she agreed before starting for the staircase.

However, Beetlejuice hopped onto the banister to stop her. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you think you’re doing walking on your feet?”

She stared at him for a long moment. “Do I actually have to answer that?”

“You’ve got a broom, girl! Use it!” He jabbed a paw in its direction.

“...Beej do I need to remind you how brooms work in the real world?���

“I’m aware of gravity. But I’m also aware that gravity for the paranormal is more… optional than it is for breathers.”

Despite herself, Lydia was curious of what he could be suggesting. “If this is some kind of prank, I will endlessly torment you anytime you try and nap again,” she said warningly.

“Yeah, yeah, get on the broom now!”

Lydia eyed him, before turning and wisely opening the window next to them, and safely popping the screen out and setting it to the side.

“You break one window one time, and suddenly no one trusts you ever,” Beetlejuice muttered as he hopped onto the broom with Lydia.

It jolted under her hands, sending a strange tingle up her fingers, and suddenly Lydia felt a strange sensation, and realized it was the feeling of her feet, her entire body in fact, leaving the ground. “Oh my god?”

Beetlejuice shot her a wide grin the Cheshire Cat would be proud of. “Alright, kid, enough gawking. Take it away!”

Lydia grinned as she tightened her grip on the broomstick, and urged it forward.

In a flash, they zipped out the window unscathed into the night sky. The cold air whistled around them, whipping Lydia’s hair around in a frenzy and numbing her fingers and nose. But none of that could wipe away her beaming grin, nothing could dampen the exhilarating sense of giddy bubbling up through her chest.

She whooped as they zipped through the air, Beetlejuice joining in with his own yeehaw as he dug his claws into her bag. Man, that Jiji guy made it seem a lot easier in the movie…

[siriusblack-the-third]

Boredom, Flustration and Love Confessions part 1

Hdjdjd my very first non- Percy Jackson fic djsgdkd i hope you like this little drabble

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

It starts like this:

Sirius is bored.

A bored Sirius, James knows, is never a good thing, because the boy will whine in James' ear and poke him in the ribs or bite his shoulder or tug on the fringe on the back of his head that's a bit longer than the rest of his hair (he had a munj ceremony when he was eight and he still keeps the evidence at sixteen) till James is sighing and giving in to Sirius' demands of chaos.

And honestly, James is way too fond of Sirius to be even remotely annoyed by his antics. Also doesn't hurt that he thrives off of chaos just as much as the other boy does.

However, there are times when Sirius doesn't bother to wheedle James into causing mischief, and simply goes off to do it on his own. On those days, he is dead set on giving James a heart attack.

Days like today.

It's a beautiful Saturday, really— the sky isn't too blue but it isn't cloudy either, and the breeze is just this side of cold. Perfect for Quidditch. James is sitting in his favourite seat in the Gryffindor common room, where he is far enough away from the fire that his skin isn't burning and he can stare at the Quidditch pitch through the open window. He and Remus are getting their homework over with between the exchange of sarcastic barbs, prank ideas and wicked smiles. Peter is off at detention and Sirius... come to think of it, where is Sirius?

The Fat Lady's portrait opens, but James doesn't look; he turns to Remus with the question of Sirius on the tip of his tongue, but is cut off by the werewolf lifting his head up and catching sight of someone.

"Oi, Pads," Remus hollers, "fuck've ya been?"

James whips his head up and grins widely at his best mate, who is sauntering up to them with a lazy smirk and an effortless elegance to his long limbs that James never figured out how to imitate. His grey eyes harbour that perpetual devilish gleam that is unique to Sirius, and James' gaze catches on the few stray waves of pitch black hair that are slipping out of his bun. Sirius walks close enough to get a ray of sunshine across his face, and silver glitters at his ears.

See, here's the thing: Sirius has piercings. A fuckton of piercings, ranging from the generic lobe piercings to the playful helix to the risque belly button to the roguish eyebrow to a downright sinful industrial. In total, he has nine piercings, compared to James' simple lobe piercings that his parents got done when he was a baby. Sirius also has a huge collection of earrings and ear cuffs, and he is never seen without at least four accessories in. Today, he's wearing all of them.

James resolutely keeps his eyes away from that attention-grabbing jewellery.

"Cheers, Padfoot," he chirps, and Sirius chuckles as he plops down next to him, lifting a hand to ruffle James' hair. The younger boy squawks and swats at his hand, making Sirius and Remus snicker.

"Alright Moons, Jamie?" he nods at the both of them, leaning back and spreading his legs so that his left one is thrown across James lap. The black ripped denim jeans stretch obscenely across his thick thighs, but James keeps his smile on his face.

"Just the Arithmancy essay," he answers, but keeps his quill down and drops his head onto Sirius' shoulders. "The one about the compression of space-time in Apparition. Where have you been?"

"Oh y'know," Sirius shrugs, and James shifts back to follow the line of his broad, leather-clad shoulders before he catches himself and looks away, heat crawling up his cheeks. "Getting a piercing."

Oh, no.

James notices Remus perk up out of the corner of his eye (the lad has his own impressive collection of piercings) but he is more invested in scanning Sirius' ears for the new addition. A second later, he frowns; all the piercings are old ones.

"Where is it?" he asks, curious. (The poor boy forgets– curiosity killed the cat.)

Sirius' grey eyes flicker with mischief, and James is given barely a second to register the foreboding feeling that suddenly fills his guts before his best friend is sticking out his tongue, a sly tilt to his lips. A flash of silver hits James' eyes.

"Holy shit!" Remus crows, and Sirius laughs, but James' mouth has gone dry. He stares at that tongue, at the sneak peeks of the metal ball he gets when Sirius starts a rapid-fire conversation with Remus, gaze drawn to the full, pale pink lips as they curl around words that James cannot be bothered to listen to.

Oh, fuck.

A tongue piercing.

Sirius has a tongue piercing.

Fuck.

[blossoms-phan]

🫂 and 🥺 for phan asks!! <3

leggooooo

🫂- no lol I wish, actually back in middle school I had a nerdy group of friends and one of them introduced me to dnp which I thank them for 🙏 but it was one of those friendships u have when you’re younger that didn’t really last once we weren’t in the same class anymore. back in 2014/15 I had an ig fan account for YouTubers/mostly dnp and when I was more uhh open with my interests lmao most of my irl friends knew about it and I would sometimes force them to watch dnp and for some reason I guess in the “height” of their popularity soo many people I guess knew them but didn’t really stay fans?? like I go back and stalk their ig and it’s crazy how many people ik used to like their posts around tatinof and now would never but I’m cool with being the one that remains among people ik cause I have all you cool peeps on here

🥺- oh gosh everything they do but let’s go rapid fire. blindfolded cat face game duhh, they’re so small and giggly and in love it makes me sick. all the day in our lives, nothing gets me more than domestic bliss and little snippets like “and there’s phil in his own little world again”. hometown showdown is arguably a bit of an unserious overproduced YouTube spon video but they can rip her from my cold dead hands, ik it’s not the first time going to each others hometowns but still the little bits of introspection about their lives as closeted little boys and dan’s home theatre and going back to those places except the two of them sharing little tea cakes makes me emo fs. dan’s childhood videos/daniel and depression/BIG for obvious reasons+phil’s draw my life(s). reacting to pinofs, old and new seeing how far they’ve come <3

[ofdeference]

@chthonicsurge asked: the blade should have struck tseng. found itself neatly between his ribs, bypassing anything vital but making its intention known. Sephiroth’s aim was right and true. But he was not anticipating the man’s shadow to gain form. For Nero to lurch upright, kicking the Turk away and out of range of harm and taking the blade himself. The scene plays out very differently this time. The Turk is forgotten as the Tsviet takes center stage, outshining even the puppeted SOLDIER. But his abilities cannot hold Sephiroth. but the sable is in poor form. Already exhausted from using his abilities to clear the way for them, the latter half of the trip through the temple had had him leaning against the Turks shoulder, breathing hard as his jaw chattered with pain. It is a painfully one-sided match. The Masamune rips through Nero’s chest, his side, again and again. But he accomplishes his task - the host exhausts itself, the general’s presence burns through it and leaves behind nothing but the corpse of a clone. Nero lays on his back, staring up at the lifestream above. Knowing all too well that it will not have him - he feels Tseng beside him more than he sees him, bloody lips curling into an empty smile as he’s lifted. He’s changed nothing. His fingers find the back of the man’s head, pulling him down so their lips crash together. So Tseng is forced to taste the blood and pain, for him to experience a fraction of what it is Nero has endured. And so he sees what the Sable sees. A vision of the future, no longer hazy but certain and concrete. The skies aflame, a flower drenched in blood, a bloodline extinguished. midgar in ruins, the world forever changed. “… it could have been different,” Nero breathes, his voice rasping. his smile is painful and cruel, anger in his eyes. “if you had… heeded my warnings… it could have been…” the hand tangled in the other man’s hair going limp as the light slowly fades from the younger man’s eyes. whether dead or unconscious it does not matter, he’ll wake just the same in due time.

Sephiroth. He can feel the cold tendrils of fate winding around his body, calling to parts of him thought long since dead and buried and every inch of him screams to live. He does not want to die here, paradise is on the cusp, at his fingertips, he can hear the Cetra's songs he's sure of it. Just once, in his lifetime, he wants to see the Promised Land.

For this he fights. Blow for blow the cat plays with his mouse to drive home the futility of his fervor. Not here, not here! No more bloodshed on this holy ground, he won't...die.

The blade is all he sees and, just beyond it, those wild feline eyes wide in their delight, pupils a slit which draw ever closer. The stench of oil chokes his airways and he must come to terms with the end. This is where his story stops.

Something violent raises the hair at the nape of his neck, spine cold with fear greater than the roiling in his gut. He knows this feeling...that...that smell...

The overwhelming understanding of something so terrible and wrong that it rivals that of the evil standing clad in black and silver.

"Ne-" Not another word can leave his lips before his world lurches sideways, vision spinning uncomfortably so and-

Black.

The world is dead to him or rather, he to it. He can not hear the battle raging on, he can not see the ferocity with which Nero fights, he can not appreciate the lithe form giving Sephiroth a run for his money.

When he wakes it is quiet. Eerily so. Understand comes slow and thick as the sludge dredged in the first sup of a reactor from mother Gaia but it dawns on him in time.

NERO!

He...saved...?

He saved!

Scuffed leather gloves dig frantically for purchase in the cracks of stone beneath him, dragging him staggering to his feet to lay eyes on two prone forms. One, a clone. Imperfect, incomplete, and still so god damn powerful it took Deepground to hold it off.

Tseng collapses at the Tsviet's side, hands digging beneath the man's head to shift him into his lap. His attention darts frantically between the gaping wounds, the seeping blood, the violence written across his body of what he endured. For him.

"Nero..." No sooner than the name leaves his lips is he tasting him. The bitter sweet of copper, the agony which seeps through his very being, permeates Tseng to his core. He cries out as they part, chest heaving, aching, tearing him apart as if it could kill him. He knows it is only a taste and yet those eyes hold a storm in check. The glimpses of what is to come which will haunt his every waking and unconscious minute.. Aerith...

It could have been different...?

Is this what the bastard had meant all along? Was he intending to help save the planet? Save countless lives from the terror of its greatest enemy? No...nononono.

Tseng could have made his choice blindly then, he could have trusted his Turk. He hadn't.

And it cost him....everything.

With a feverish fury his hands go to work, tearing at his own jacket to shed and rip the lining. A commendation to the tailor, it is not easy, but he manages. The worst of the wounds are bandaged but there is no life in him still.

He fetches his PHS and dials Rude, set on speaker, and he goes to work breathing life into the body still warm beneath him. Chest compressions one, two, three, four- breathe. He would scream if his mind had not gone, if his hands would stop shaking, slipping on the slick of skin bared around its seeping wounds. He can not see, the world's gone blurry and there's a river running down his nose.

At least it might wash away his inadequacies, those garish splashes of red. How fucking pathetic to need rescuing. Leader of the Turks...

"Nero, come back to me. Come back damn you. You don't get to leave until I dismiss you from duty." The longer the minutes tick by, the more the desperation takes its hold. Arms shake from exhaustion, lungs scream and burn and his head is pounding.

"Come back...please I'm-."

[deadxlv]

Far Away Soul, White Cold Star 💫

Chapter: 18 “Rip Yourself Asunder..and Pray..”

The once beautiful red continent was now mostly a wasteland of charred rock and buried life forms, pieces barely able to reform- soft hands would cusp you and take you away. Path of Darkness consumed you and now facing the birth of it all you reconsider it all in this final act of love- you are in no way redeemed and must die endless lives to recapture said faith. The ground rumbled to a halt as roaring in the wind shook the world, what was doing that? The Entity now gone and it's catalyst thrown out like the waste it is on the ground like a smoked cigarette bud, your left wondering as the dark skies rage on whether or not it is truly worth it to move on..

I-I..Bless me this once..Please..

I beg on my knees for your love..Hh..

I Promise on what remains of my soul to deem it so..just gimme this final chance!

  Shouting images of cold ring in your head, that odd glowing light, damn moisture filled room, and stabbing feeling coursing through your body..it's that dream again, fluorescent light above your head from so long ago- remembering the time you spent with Hèr'La in her campsite made you think. After seeing such a distraught individual fall from grace in such a way it makes sense now why Hèr'La was all alone in the woods wandering around randomly, she was abandoned like stray cat in the winds of time, until we came along and made her life a whole lot worse. As you feel the nerves in your arm fire off you would try to move your arm to no avail, feels like nothing is there- warm burnt ground being your only sense of comfort as your remains ever so barely writhed on the ground. Your lasting moments in the world feeling like an eternity as the last pieces of you try their best to cling on to their remaining breath. Cemented within as the sounds of crunching footsteps on the hard soil grew ever so closer to you, just before your resting remains were scooped up with delicate hands..

  Somber felt and many more between their minds those soft hands, cold to the touch, would scoop you and cup you- feeling of kindredness filling your dead remains before they slowly placed you down into a small jar and walked away with you. Fractions of your body long since gone leave their ghostly nerves firing off within you as it still feels like you have a body, the lumbering imposing force above you that took you moving ever so slowly in the distance, one step at a time with their weak soulless body taking you far from this destruction. Your remaining eye peering through the glass can just barely make out your surroundings, scorched earth being a reminder of your mistakes as well, if only you had heeded the warnings and kept your cool this would have never happened. Eye growing so accustomed to the sight so much you finally choose it as such and decide to rest, to regain strength, to grow- the feeling within yourself ever so slowly returning, but with no true progress your only stuck as the pieces of a greater whole...left to the whims of this being ever so larger then you.

  Time had passed since you had fallen asunder, to no surprise the being holding you in the jar kept on walking, and as you gained some strength back you would look all around you as best you can through the glass to see the first ever signs of life. Small shrubs and low hanging plant life survived the powerful shockwaves from the Entities attacks many days ago, their red torn to pieces leaves danced around slowly in the soft wind, the crunching of dead leaves beneath the large beings feet giving you some level of comfort as it makes it feel less of a dream. As much as seeing said world around you still exist you choose to bathe in the rays of the dual suns poking through the glass, feeling of warmth coursing though you their was no thought but to rest once again. Your mind kept dozing off the further on this went as every so often you would wake up again to see so many more things change around you, odd blasts inside of remaining trees making your suspicions grow as to what made this and why is it so high up. They paused...fearing for your life you jolt up from your last rest and glance around, the specialty crafted jar housing you behind decorated with many designs distorted the view through the glass as you looked all about for what was going to happen. You would begin to ascend...

  Splash!

  Filling liquid coursing through your empty tissue as you awaken one last time, the fluids coursing deep within your very being as you writhe around in discomfort, not even able to scream as you still lack something important..a mouth. Expanding in shape you jerked around trying to get out of this cesspool of odd fluids until your foot seemingly touched the ground of the newer larger container, passing your toes ever so softly on the bottom of the ceramic container you regain some of your senses. Pieces of your very essence coming from your remains and multiplying near instantaneously in-front of your very eyes, in such a short feeling of time it was like you passed the check and made it back to yourself with relative ease, no use of any strange techniques or horrid abilities you were finally back, but that just couldn't even be further from the truth as just from your container you sat within you were in an abandoned room in what seemed to be a closet. Bouncing around inside till your arm extended out and shot out into open air you gain a sense of weakness from it all, sure this was the real you coming back, but the feeling of something crawling in your skin not present made you grow weary of your very flesh.

Raising up from the thick liquid clinging to your clean flesh you try to catch your breath, out of nowhere those same delicate hands would push your head straight back down into the liquid like they were trying to drown you, opening your reforming mouth to try and yell out for no air to even escape your lungs. The dense gray liquid making it hard to see your way out of the fluid, muffled voice from above as the same hand kept its hold on you, seemed ever so familiar you try to get a hold of it the best you can with your remaining strength to no avail as it gets off your chest and out the fluid. Puffing your cheeks you try to catch any breath to realize you have been breathing this whole time while having your head submerged in this goop, slowly passing your hand through the sludge you barely make out your hand and what you see explains it all. The fluid clinging to your reforming hand rebuilding it at a rapid pace till it was complete, this was nothing else but that same stuff Hèr'La gave you to heal all that time ago. Letting the small amount of air you had out you solemnly watch the bubbles travel ever so slowly up through the fluid before sitting at the surface of said fluid, hair swaying softly all around you lay there as you realize the shadow cast over the healing fluid is now gone, but as you gain curiosity you erupt with a immense sharp pain tearing into your left eye and as you hold the left side of your face you shoot up out of the water groaning in pain.

Healing Baza poured on the floor after sloshing around in a large tub-like container, pain subsiding you stare around the small room your in and look down at your hands, we're us again..but how? I swear we had died. Clenching your hands into tight fists you look about as a door was slightly opened to your right, the door was weathered down and had many cracks in its seams, the gold outline now a rusted shaded copper looking border especially on the door nob. Fluid pouring all over the floor as you creeped your way out of it, healing baza clinging to your body a bit as you finally got your way onto your feet, sharp pains stabbing into your legs as you put your feet on the hardwood floor. Wincing in discomfort you push on with every step causing you more and more discomfort, but with a quiet creak of the door as you pushed your way out you look into a much larger room in a similar condition to the last. It was nighttime at this point and the faint glow of the two gas giants over the horizon illuminating this room let you just see far enough to scout it for safety, taking your first steps out the door you see a dirtied purple bed in the corner, shattered picture frames on the ground, scratched out astral wallpaper, moss covered ceilings that from what you can make out show the stars in the sky, and lastly what catches your eye is the glow of candle light in your peripheral vision.

  Fearful of that person from before being here still makes you jolt behind the door again hiding, glancing through the small holes in the door you try to make something out only to see no one but the glow of candlelight in the corner of the room. Breathing heavy in lack of nitrogen in your blood you feel like your nerves are about to tip and your about to collapse, an unnerving fear never before felt as it just brings you back to seeing that horrid Entity come crashing down on top of you not so long ago, but what settles you to a halt is a monotone soft voice muttering to you, "I know your awake..just..come out..I guess..". You glance around back to the tub behind you still filled with the grey healing baza and reconsider with the voice just outside and for the sake of it all you would creep your way slowly out the door, the door creaking one last time you poke your head out to see who this mystery person was, "You can leave..I won't..do anything..I think..", the voice mumbled to itself as it came from the same direction as the candlelight. Fully stepping out you take a turn and see someone curled up by a broken table hiding themselves in what seemed to be a puffy hoodie, candle burning brightly on the verge of falling over, table legs just able to stand making a near shelter for that individual, and the noticeable cuts on that individuals legs made you connect the dots. Ripping its way through your vocal chords you would utter through your reformed lips, "V..?", in a raspy tone of voice as you beckoned a question at the individual laying there, no position to defend yourself you try your best to at minimum figure out what's going on here, even though you have nothing on you not even any of your weapons.

  Legs closed and head hidden behind them as they hugged said legs the individual would slightly twitch from discomfort, "What do you want..I told you..you can leave..", their voice crackling as they muttered out those words still hiding out their face from even facing you. Memories flooding back into your mind you'd grow annoyed at the very existence of this person in your sight, fists clenching you'd stare at them with a pissed off look, taking a step forward you would open your mouth to say something but you were interrupted with, "your gonna say..you've killed my family, hurt my friends, done irreparable damage to the world around you, and for some reason brought me to this strange place after I basically died....did I get it right..word for word..?", they would respond in the same tone of voice. You paused as you closed your mouth and stayed looking at them with the same irritated expression, they had every single word plucked straight out your mind before you could even muster them from your very mouth, taking another step forward in objection you'd try once more only for the same result, "I don't know what sick trick your playing but it isn't at all a game, you still have to pay for all those sick things you've done-..", they would slowly move their darker green torn legs down, inch by inch until their face was revealed, makeup faded and scattered across their face as if they've been crying, no lipstick, and those same unmistakable eyes it was indeed V, "Oh I'm paying, every single irreplaceable second I am sacrificing my own existence to the horrible things I've done for the past few eons..you immature child you've only lived a fraction of what I have and even till this day I can't even fathom all I've done in the name of love..so shut your pathetic patronage and leave me..alone..", V said looking away from the reconstructed man standing right in front of her in the center of her room.

  Hijìn scoffed in arrogance to this all and would go around trying to find anything to put on, digging amongst her things not even caring for what she had just said, she's done so much and yet in a room with her your to her whims and all she does is cry in a corner..pathetic. Finding some spare clothes you slide them over your head and they end up fitting you mostly tight, staring at the shattered mirror you could barely make out how well you've healed, everything was the same way it was except for the glance at the edge of a glass piece showing the cowering V still by the table. Turning around you face them while they stayed looking off into the distance having a emotionless depressed stare before you would say in your raspy broken voice, "Why..did you save..us...?", asking the question with the parasite still surviving with you just barely helping you ask said words. V would continue staring off into the distance seeming to ignore you like if she already knew you would ask a question like that, feeling the need to deserve the response you would beckon again, "Why did you save us after you practically killed us..?", staring at her dirtied mess of a face grow slowly irritated from your question. "That wasn't me..and I thought you hated me..we were mortal enemies..why would you ever..wanna..speak to someone..who..w-who..killed your family..", V responded as at the end her voice began to break up in a disheartened tone of voice, her faded nails clenching at the ground beneath her as she layed to her side still staring off. "You are..and in no way shape or form will that ever change..you disgust me V..I'm leaving..", Hijìn muttered out as he turned his back on her and began to walk towards a blown out hole in the wall leading to the darkness of night below, V would burrow her eyebrows in frustration as she would clamber her way up the broken table to her feet, her legs nearly giving out on her as she stood making the candle topple onto its side about to die out.

  Hijìn turning around would raise an eyebrow in confusion as to what she is doing only to see this, V was near unable to stand from all the deep cuts into her thighs all the way down to her feet, small shorts on she could barely hide the rest of the slices on her body, the large dark purple hoodie serving as the only large enough cover for the true display of her wounds. Her face filled with frustration and eyes watering with tears she would fall against the now toppled over table and shout out at Hijìn with a angered but saddened tone of voice, "F-fuck It! Leave! Go On! Run away and face some other threat! They know your alive..IT knows your alive..Scurry off to find your friend for fuck sake who knows where he landed after that..That...thing ripped me into a billion pieces as it's food source..gO run off..like it's even worthwhile to care..I-I..can't even defend myself..nor anyone or anything around me..ungrateful bastard..it doesn't even amount to what I've done but at minimum some reconciliation of me saving you would be appreciated..", V yelled out in objection as Hijìn stared at her with a serious but bothered look on his face, V finishing up and she would finally slip off the toppled over table and fall onto her face weakly on the ground, her nails clawing at the hardwood floor as she muffled out a pained groan as what could be heard as her long silky grey hair covered her face was the sniffling of holding back tears.

  Staggering to even take a step back you just watch this all unfold as she would slowly rise back up, the deep cuts in her body staining her clothing with her now clear blue blood, wiping her face with the puffy sleeves of her hoodie she could barely make herself stand. "Let's go..we can deal with this later..she'll die of her injuries there's no reason to even watch her..", the voice in your head echoed out to you, the build up of rain drops falling from the heavens above hitting your shoulders from the cracked ceiling, voices protesting your very actions and the feeling of betrayal marking your very soul you would take a step forward. Her clear blind eyes fluttering for a moment as she would look up at you approaching, bending down to her on one knee and cupping her broken apart body in your arms you pick her up, she writhed in pain in your arms as you took her to the very place you awoke in just a moment ago. V would hiss in pain from her injuries looking all around in confusion as the blood loss slowly crept onto her weak body, "Tch..wh..wh-why are you..helping me..dang..Mutt..", she softly whispered from her lips before her body slowly submerged itself in the gray healing baza. The dense fluid sticking to her injuries she whines as her back layed against the back of the tub, her arms submerged up till her neck she would weakly gaze up at Hijìn, who had taken a seat by the tub on a small foot stool looking at her with the same bothered look. "V..let's..just speak..", Hijìn muttered out to V who layed there slowly getting healed by the strange fluid, opening her mouth initially stuttering she cleared her throat before saying to the man in a slightly discomforted manner, "M-m- my names Vìrkä, A-and..sure..why not..", in a small sarcastic tone at the end as the two would be in the same small room. Once out for one another's necks now sitting in the same place with hatred built tension making the air hard to breathe as no one knew how to begin..only that the rain kept on falling on my face..until those familiar hands cast a spell upon me..and healed my dying soul..

Rain pouring outside the ruined treehouse hidden amongst the remaining trees provided the last bit of protection from the elements, smoke still billowing out of the wastelands not so far away from here fill your lungs with the remains of the dead, their bodies long gone but their souls living on in the wind. Grey silky dirty hair floating in dense fluid, tight fibers clinging onto hardened human flesh, quiet dripping of rain on hardwood floors, eyes near one in the same stare at one another in discomfort as words couldn't dare escape their lips..why..I ask..why..

Why did she do it..

All of it..why..I'm so confused..

I hope Kÿr is okay..

Forgone..I wish I could see your illuminating glow amongst the stars father..one..final..time..

[jacksons-goddess-gaia]

~Flame~

❖ Kard, BM x witch female reader (may do a part 2 someday for smut)

❖ Angst, fluff, Drabble

❖ Tw: violence, death, torture, murder, slight gore, language, guns

❖ wc: <3k

❖ @atiny-piratequeen @atiny-dazzlinglight ❖ Masterlist ❖

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : ��� ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Hope you enjoy! My commissions are open right now as are kofis every bit helps <3

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Did you think I wouldn’t catch you? Or…were you hoping I would?” The voice dipped lower, a dangerous register nearly a growl. Red eyes flashing with interest, stalking round him shrouded by the darkness just outside the only lamps golden circle. “Either way…a truly moronic move coming here. Seems curiosity will finally kill the cat…or more the cats play toy.”

He only glared back, not that he could speak with those fingers squeezing his throat so tightly, or through the mouthful of cotton gagging him. The red eyes flashed, and he was left to assume he had blinked, struggling to make out the hidden shapes stalking him like predators ready for the kill.

“She’s not going home with you…I’m keeping her right here in my palm. Where she always was…” The purr of smug triumph only earned a deeper snear, orange flickering in his own irises despite the pain burning in his wrists and chest as the chains instantly contracted around him. The red eyes narrowed in what he could only assume was a smile, white teeth flashing at him. “Where she belongs.”

Matthew snarled, muscles rippling to no avail. Giving up and leaning back to catch his breath, Matthew let the furry buzz in his veins eyes glowing at him as his vision sharpened. The thin but beautiful man before him smiled wider, chocolate skin warm like the most beautiful wood in summer but even Matthew knew his touch would be a blazing ice storm of frost.

“Now call of your mutts before I decide to see just how good my forbidden fruit tastes like.” The demons smile fell away in a flash eyes cold and merciless.

“Boss, you don’t have to worry about us we’re fine!” Despite the voice ringing in his skull Matthew settled, eyes fading back to a dark brown, muscles going slack with defeat. The man laughed watching Matts head drop with twisted joy, tossing the silver knife up and down catching it deftly after each twirl. There was nothing in this world that could stop Matt in his tracks as fast as threats to his loved ones, especially-

“Now then…Once they leave I’ll come back to you. I think we ought to defang our puppy before releasing him.” The vampires footsteps clicked across the ground as his versace shoes met the stone tiles. “It was a nice try, but she’s destined for greater things than the bride of some misbegotten pup-”

Just as The vampire chuckled on the insult several othersounds cut him short. Faster than a hunter with an arrow on the string, three things happened at once. The first a scream and noise of something like kindled wood popping up stairs. The second the horrible ripping sound of metal being torn from stone and metal alike, and the third was two of the other vampires screams as Matthew exploded outward.

“Impossible-” But Tiberious didn’t get to finish his word as faster than lightning, Matthew dropped the two dead flaking piles of ash and shifted into his human form again chains left behind. The silver knife had barely left his hand when Tiberious felt the burning hot fist connect with his stomach, sending the lanky beautiful man flying up the stairs through the door and smashing into the brick wall of the kitchen. “The chai-ack the chains were enchanted how-”

Matthew snarled lunging up the steps hands clasping around the vampires neck and wrists, struggling to keep another blade from coming crashing down upon him. Orange eyes blazed with hatred as Matthew growled in his face just safe of the snapping white teeth.

“I’m under a stronger spell than anything you can muster.” Matthews words brought confusion to the vampires blood red eyes, stark white hair falling into his face.

“Hey boss time to move the house is burning fast!” Matthew grunted in acknowledgment and focused on his tussle of strength with the vampire. He was easily stronger, but the slippery bastard had hundreds of years combat over him and he was not below using every and any cheap shot to free himself. It was in one of the moments where knowledge over powered brawn that The vampire hissed at him, marked up with injuries much as Matt.

“I’d rather let you both die here then let her fall into your filthy paws!”

Matthew for a moment would have liked to believe it was these words that gave him the strength for the next thirty seconds, but in fact it was aided by the fact that the stake just below Tiberious had finally pierced him beginning its slow way deep into his ancient frame. Matthew did not have the luxury to celebrate his victory as Tiberious screamed a curse the last of his vile energy blasting out in a wave of energy, sending not just Matthew but the vampires who had come running to his aid flying in all directions.

“-Boss! BOSS-FOR FUCKS SAKE MATT GET UP THE FIGHTS NOT DONE!” It took Matthew a few minutes to gather himself back up, blinking the black dots out of his vision. J.Sephs ungulating form battled feet from him keeping the vampires at bay.

“Fuck this.” Matthew groaned, picking himself up injuries burning and throbbing. The explosion having blown up one third of the house and collapsed another third. Taking a moment to let the noises of the world return to his senses, Matthew took in the wreckage with a pounding heart. A shining golden necklace laying in the grass a foot from him sent white cold fear coursing through his body, the blaze of the flames beginning to spread to the last of the abode.

“MATTHEW!” Jiwoo’s scream snapped him out of his stupor. Lifting his gaze he saw her guns blazing as she peppered two vampires with holes, before hurrying to switch out the empty cartridges. “HURRY UP IDIOT!”

Somin leapt to her girlfriends side, slashing down an opponent behind her before dancing away lit in the burning glow of the fire. Matthew swallowed and pressed his feet into the ground, leaping forward over their heads eyes blazing as his clawed hands landed on a loose beam and managing at the last moment to launch himself into the crumbling interior.

The interior was a maze of debris, dying vampires, and flames. Each breath burned but Matthew lifted his head diving deeper into the flames to an area of smoke, kicking the door to the last room open with animlaistic strength.

“MATT! Thank god-” The sight would have been comical had Matthew not had to dive forward and catch the rope as the bedsheets ripped, nearly sending you plummeting down three stories to your death. “Oh-fuck-”

Matthew sighed in relief as you clambered back inside and into his arms, the mannacles around your wrists not stopping you from hugging him tight. A deep rumble left his chest in relief to see that a small gash and soot were the worst of your injuries, crushing you to his chest.

“Hold on babe, I got you now.” Matthew wasn’t really sure if his words were to soothe your beaming smile, or the fears all along that he’d been too late in his rescue. Scooping you up in one arm Matt took a step back and then took off running leaping out the same window you’d been trying to escape down. Feet crushing the last vampire under foot Matt didnt do more then swing you to his back before taking off again. He knew you could hold onto him, the arms tightening around his neck as he shifted proof enough of this.

“Time to go!” His words brought smiles to his three companions who tucked away their weapons, Jiwoo climbing onto Somins lean wolf form as they took off, J.Seph bringing up the rear large panther form keeping up easily.

Matthew would never forget that moment as he sunk into a steady run, heart slowing to match your racing one, your lips brushing his white fluffy ears. “Thank you. Lets go home Matt.”

__________________________________________________________

“How are you doing?” Matthew melted, here he was, freshly showered and ready to check you up for the tenth time since you’d returned to the flat you shared, and you were more interested in how HE was doing.

“I’m fine babe, how are your wounds?” Matthew had been more than a bit upset before as he was shooed off to go shower and get cleaned up while Jiwoo and Somin bickered and cleaned you up. But when you smiled and held your arms out to him with just light bandaging on your wrists he found himself falling into them, rumbling like the over sized puppy he was inside.

“Why don’t you kiss me and find out.” Your sweet purr took him by surprise, as did the warmth of your skin on his. It occurred to him now as he laid atop you, you were only wearing a thin nightgown.

“Babe you just got-”

“Exactly,” The way you rolled ontop of him had Matthew blinking in surprise. “I’m free, no more vampires, no more fears…nothing holding me back from what I want.” Your fingers though cooler than his werewolf form, felt so warm and soft running over his rugged cheeks. “And I want you…I want my mate.”

Matthews heart nearly leapt out of his chest as you straddled over his crotch, the towel doing nothing to stop you from slowly grinding your core over his cock. The way your scent thickened and his heart stuttered, wolf howling for him to do everything to please you right then and there-

“Babe, mating is permanent. No amount of your magic will be able too-” You shushed him, covering his lips with yours. You’d heard his argument before, knew why he was so scared to go past sweet kisses. But now having almost lost not just your own life, but maybe his or your friends you knew there was nothing else in this world, and no one else that you wanted.

Your human eyes shifted rainbow twinkling in them as you imbued every word with your life force. “I swear myself to you, heart, body and soul Matthew Kim. Be my future, my present, and my partner, please? Theres no one for me in this universe or any other than you.”

Matthew could feel every fiber of his being blazing with energy, the flames of his power licking through his veins. “It,,,it’ll hurt.” He warned voice rasping with desire, wolf clawing its way to the surface.

“Give it too me, I’ll take the pain and the pleasure. I’ll stay with you forever.” All of Matts walls, months of restraining himself, talking down any situation past kissing fell away as your lips met his, bodies curling together long into the darkness of the night.

[marblemoovt]

An Evening At Home - Phoenix Wright/Miles Edgeworth

Masterlist

Rating: Mature (for suggestive themes)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: None, just good ol’ fluff

Summary:

Phoenix is surprised--forced--with a day off from work. His husband Miles also receives the same surprise. What will the two of them do now that they both have time to spend together?

Or

Lots of domestic fluff with Phoenix and Miles.

-------------------

“Don’t you think it’s oddly convenient that we both happen to be forced to take a break from work?”

“Lucky coincidence?” Phoenix says with a shrug, but the look on his husband's face tells him he’s dead wrong—a look he’s seen many times in the courtroom.

“You are incredibly dense. They did it so we could spend time together.”

Phoenix opens his mouth and pauses in hesitation, closing it again. “Oh.”

“Oh indeed.” Miles clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “I’m going to shower. You can start preparing dinner, and I’ll join you soon.” He heaves himself off the couch with a grunt, stretching and popping a few joints in the process.

Phoenix watches as he makes his way upstairs, gaze lingering long enough that the cat headbutts his hand to seek more pets. He clears his throat and tears his gaze away. Did Miles have to look so good in those pants??

Note:

This has been sitting in my drafts for ages and I finally got around to finishing it. I haven't personally played any Ace Attorney games but I did watch some playthroughs a long time ago. And honestly, Miles and Phoenix are so cute together that I just couldn't help myself. I hope you guys have as much fun reading as I did writing!

Enjoy! (。・∀・)ノ

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

Phoenix hunches forward on the couch, flicking his wrist and sending the cat wand to twirl enticingly in front of the feline. His colleagues insisted that he take a break since the number of cases had slowed to a stable rate. So here he is, entertaining his furry companion at home with an alarming absence of paperwork. During his absentmindedness, the cat captures the trail of fabric between its paws and rips the wand out of Phoenix’s grasp. The plastic rod tumbles to the ground with a clatter, snapping his focus back to reality. A quick glance at the clock reveals that it’s only three in the afternoon, much to his dismay. Usually, he would still be in the office, preparing for an upcoming case or bothering his husband in his spare time.

The ring on his finger sparkles, and he twists and fidgets with it, a habit that he developed to keep him grounded whenever he feels anxious or stressed. Miles likely wouldn’t be home until later in the evening. The sound of someone struggling with the front door interrupts his thoughts. Was someone bold enough to find the hidden spare key and rob their house under the assumption the owners were still at work? He makes sure the cat isn’t tangled up in the wand toy before advancing cautiously with a deadly weapon in his hands—the almighty slipper.

The door finally swings open, and Phoenix lets out a battle cry before swinging down the slipper of mild pain and discomfort. However, a steady hand grabs his wrists and prevents his strike from landing, an unamused Miles Edgeworth glaring right in front of him. Phoenix shakes out of his grip and awkwardly hides the slipper behind his back.

“Welcome home, dear. I wasn’t expecting you home so soon.” Phoenix flashes a grin at the cold expression on his husband’s face, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face.

“Yes, well, I wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome either,” Miles replies, features relaxing into an amused expression. Keen pupils watch as a single slipper flies to an unknown corner of the hallway, trailing back to meet the figure of an absolute mess called Phoenix Wright. He slips off his shoes and walks in to set his bag down on the counter. “I assume you didn’t voluntarily leave work early?” The following silence is enough of an answer. Miles shakes his head and chuckles. Disbelief laces his tone when he says,  “it seems there’s no end to how nosy our colleagues can be.” The cat pads over, rubbing and purring against his legs until he finally scoops up the rumbling ball of fur.

“What did they do this time?” Phoenix scratches his head, remembering that everyone wasn’t more irritating than usual.

“I wonder,” Miles smirks and walks over to the sofa before settling down on the cushions, “just how do you catch criminals with that empty brain of yours?”

“Hey!” Phoenix plops down beside him, sulking a bit.

“Well, I suppose I should thank you for deciding to become an attorney and not a detective.”

“If you want someone to thank, thank yourself. The only reason I’m an attorney is because of you,” Phoenix bluntly remarks. The faint red creeping up his husband’s face didn’t go unnoticed, his complexion now matching the iconic suit he always wears.

“Thank you, Miles Edgeworth, for single-handedly saving the law from what could have been another bumbling detective.” The slight lilt on Miles’ lips is the closest thing to a shit-eating grin he can form. 

“I’m supposed to be the sarcastic one.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.” 

“Mhmm,” Phoenix hums, dragging out the last syllable. He picks up the cat and moves it onto his lap, robbing Miles of his personal heater. Tilting his head back and narrowing his eyes, he shoots a judgemental look. “What about that time you didn’t know what a strainer was, and I walked in on you spooning out the pasta wa—”

“I never claimed to be good at everything,” Miles interrupts, annoyed but clearly enjoying the banter. “If we’re going to be bringing up embarrassing moments, then I’d like to remind you about the time at the restaurant when you drank lemon water meant for washing hands.” 

Phoenix visibly bristled at this. “How was I supposed to know what they were for?! Whatever happened to a good ol’ wet wipe?!” He clenched and unclenched his fists with a sigh, shoulders drooping. “What did you mean earlier about how nosy everyone at work is?” he asks, hoping to change the topic. 

Miles is obviously amused and waits a few seconds before answering, “See, this is why I was the one to propose.” He holds up a finger to silence Phoenix before he can sputter a word. “Don’t you think it’s oddly convenient that we both happen to be forced to take a break from work?”

“Lucky coincidence?” Phoenix says with a shrug, but the look on his husband's face tells him he’s dead wrong—a look he’s seen many times in the courtroom. 

“You are incredibly dense. They did it so we could spend time together.” 

Phoenix opens his mouth and pauses in hesitation, closing it again. “Oh.”

“Oh indeed.” Miles clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “I’m going to shower. You can start preparing dinner, and I’ll join you soon.” He heaves himself off the couch with a grunt, stretching and popping a few joints in the process. 

Phoenix watches as he makes his way upstairs, gaze lingering long enough that the cat headbutts his hand to seek more pets. He clears his throat and tears his gaze away. Did Miles have to look so good in those pants?? “‘A well-tailored suit is an essential asset to any wardrobe,’” he mocks in his best Miles Edgeworth impression.

“I heard that!”

“You did not!”

“You’re right, but now I know you’re talking to yourself about me!”

Phoenix grumbles and reluctantly moves the cat onto the couch despite its mews of protest. Making his way to the kitchen, he leans against the counter while contemplating what to make for dinner. Often, the two of them are too tired to cook after work, opting instead to order out—although Miles did suggest hiring a personal chef; Phoenix is too awkward to have some stranger come into his house and cook for him. 

What should he make? Did they even have the ingredients to make something? Honestly, when was the last time they went grocery shopping? 

A steady stream of piano notes interrupts his train of thought, bringing it to a grinding halt. He rounds the corner and leans against the wall, watching as Miles glides his fingers gracefully across the keys. The familiar melody washes him with a sense of calm, and his shoulders visibly loosen. Taking some silent steps forward, he stops behind his husband and drapes his arms around his shoulders, resting his chin atop his head. 

“I can’t play the piece as intended if you impede my movements like this.” Miles continues playing, speeding up the tempo as the climax builds.  Phoenix laughs, and he knows Miles can feel the rumbling from his chest from the way his shoulders tense beneath him.

“Yeah, but you like it too much to push me away.”

“...You know I hate it when you're right.” Another laugh erupts from Phoenix, and he withdraws his arms, moving to sit on the piano bench.

“Scoot over. Your butt’s too big.” Phoenix gently nudges Miles’s sides with his elbow, demanding more space on the bench.

“I beg your pardon?” Miles’s hands stop momentarily, hovering above the piano keys. He looks over at Phoenix with his face scrunched up.

“I meant that in the nicest way possible.” Phoenix appreciatively pats the plump bottom beside him. An unintelligible noise gurgles in the back of his husband’s throat.

“I know that, but you didn’t even have the decency to say please?”

“Alright, alright. I can tell you’re getting a little butthurt over this.” Phoenix snickers to himself. “Scoot over. Your butt’s too big, please .”

Still unamused, Miles moves closer to the edge to give Phoenix more room. “Since my performance has been unceremoniously brought to an end, would you care to play something?”

“What was that song you were playing earlier?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Claire de lune?”

“Of course I have. it’s uhhhhh French for something?” Miles pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “What? It’s probably one of those classical songs you’ve played since you were ten.”

“Seven, actually,” Miles corrected.

“Forgive me. I forgot I was in the presence of a prodigy.”

“I’d like to see you do better.”

“Well, then you’re about to be blown away by my amazing improvisation skills.”

Miles raises his hands in surrender. “By all means.” Phoenix hovers his fingers over the piano keys. A few seconds pass before Miles pipes up with, “Any minute now.”

“I’m thinking!”

“No, you’re stalling, darling.” Miles receives a side-eye from Phoenix and returns with an encouraging smile. “It’s just me—”

“Meow!”

“—and our cat.” Miles places a hand on Phoenix’s thigh and squeezes gently. He picks up the cat and sets her on top of the piano. “You know, you don’t have to play. I was just teasing you, hon.”

Phoenix rubs the back of his neck and shrugs his shoulders. “I know. I just wanna… impress you.” He coughs to clear his throat and repositions his hands above the keys. “This is Phoenix Wright, ace attorney and average pianist.” He pauses to gauge Miles’s reaction, which is a slow shake of the head and an amused smile. “This song is dedicated to my lovely husband.” Ignoring the warmth in his cheeks, he starts out slow and shapes the melody into something—hopefully—pleasant to listen to. He may not have played for as long as Miles, but he knows enough scales and chords to form a coherent solo. 

Miles joins in after a while. He doesn’t overshadow Phoenix but adds some harmony here and there.  Sometimes it’s a lick that he came up with on the spot. They play together in sync, familiar with each other’s style. Miles withdraws to give Phoenix space to end the song, which he does soon after. “So?” Phoenix drags out the ‘o’. “What do you think?” He clasps his hands together and waits for feedback.

“You’ve certainly improved since that dingy club.” Miles nods in approval. He looks over and sees Phoenix staring down at his lap. Miles bumps his shoulder against his husband’s. “I meant it when I said you’ve improved. I know I can come off as abrasive, but—”

“Thank you,” Phoenix whispers, resting his head against Miles’s shoulder.

“Any time, darling. Any time.” Miles begins playing the piano again. “Now, let the professionals show you how it’s done,” he says with a cheeky smile.

“Heh. Arrogance isn’t a good look on you.” Phoenix closes his eyes, his head remaining against Miles’s shoulder. He just sits there and lets the music flow into him.

“You’re right.” The music suddenly stops. “It’s a great look on me.” And the song continues as if nothing happened.

“Hey. Can we….” Phoenix opens his eyes and glances up at his husband. “Can we maybe order take-in again? Watch a movie?”

Miles finishes the song and stands up, sweeping Phoenix into a carry. “You will select a movie—” he gently sets Phoenix down onto the couch “—and I will prepare dinner.” He takes in Phoenix’s wide eyes and scoffs in mock hurt. “I promise the building will not burn down, and the food shall be edible.”

“That’s what you promised last time, but the chicken was still raw because you forgot to turn on the oven.” Phoenix grabs the remote and begins surfing through different movies on Netflicks.

“I figured it out eventually,” Miles retorts, crossing his arms with a frown. He shakes his head when Phoenix pulls up the overview of some romantic comedy. His husband sighs and leans back into the couch.

“Yes, dear….” Phoenix pauses.

“But?” Miles begins tapping his foot, sensing the hesitation.

“...but you forgot to set the temperature correctly, and it completely dried out,” Phoenix confesses, avoiding eye contact and pretending to be interested in a new mystery/crime movie. 

“You said no such thing,” Miles says, voice rising in pitch. He takes the remote from Phoenix and scrolls through the movies until it lands on an animated film they both like. They’ve both seen it, but it’s been long enough that they don’t remember much of what happened.

Phoenix sighs and contemplates in silence, nodding his head when Miles gestures to the screen. “Yes, well, do you remember when I tried baking you cookies?” He uses the first example that comes to mind.

Miles remembers. Because how could he forget? He still shudders when he thinks about the experience. “They had a terrible crunch because you left some eggshells, but I didn’t want to say anything because…. Oh.” For the same reasons, neither of them told the other how terrible the food was.

“Yeah. Oh.” Phoenix holds out his hand and receives the remote back. He begins setting up the movie to let it load.

“Fear not. I may or may not have taken a few cooking classes since then,” Miles says, chest puffing up and head held high.

“So what you mean to say is that history might repeat itself?” Phoenix tilts his head and smiles up at his husband.

“Shut up and let me cook for you.”

Phoenix raises his hands in surrender. “I’m craving lasagna, in case you wanted my input.”

“You’re a terrible liar, darling. You actually want spaghetti.” Miles presses a kiss to the top of Phoenix’s head, carefully avoiding the sharp ends. His husband whines underneath him and tries to turn away from the affection, resulting in a shower of kisses. 

“Damn it. Do you have to be so observant?” He sags into the couch, arms crossed and back pressed firmly into the cushions. 

“It’s part of the job.” Miles shrugs, straightening his back. He begins making his way to the kitchen. 

Phoenix stands up and goes after him. His favourite past-time is mildly inconveniencing his husband. “That’s your excuse for everything,” Phoenix says, checking all the spices to see if any are expired. 

“Do you want to help or not?” Miles harshly sets a pot of water onto the stove. The water sloshes but doesn’t spill. 

“I thought my job was to pick a movie. And as you can see,” Phoenix gestures to the tv screen, “my job here is done.” He sniffs a container of paprika and throws it into the trash. 

“A movie I picked because you have abysmal taste.” Miles snatches the salt shaker out of Phoenix’s hand and adds a generous amount to the water. He goes to the pantry to find a packet of spaghetti noodles. 

“Hey! I married you, didn’t I? My taste can’t be that bad.” 

Miles grunts and grabs a tin of tomatoes. “This is never going to end. Would you please be so kind as to help me with dinner?” Miles sets the ingredients on the counter next to the stove. He turns to Phoenix with his hands on his hips.

“I am helping,” Phoenix says, mirroring Miles’s stance. 

“Being a distraction and being helpful are two very different things.”

“Oh? I’m distracting, hm?” Phoenix closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around Miles’s waist. His hands are dangerously low, and before he can go further, a packet of noodles is shoved into his chest. 

“You insufferable man. Will you please just cook the noodles while I make the sauce?” Miles turns his back on Phoenix and opens the tin of tomatoes. 

“Because you don’t know how to use a strain—“

“Because I don’t have an ounce of faith in your seasoning skills.” He walks past Phoenix to the fridge and takes a pack of ground beef. Looking over his shoulder, he says, “I’m not wrong, and you know it.”

“Yeah, but I’m Wright.” Phoenix’s voice lilts, and he begins chopping some onions to avoid the glare drilling into his head. 

“We both are, you idiot.” Miles drops the beef into another pot and leaves it to form a crust, handing Phoenix a carrot to dice. 

“It doesn’t say so at work.” Phoenix takes the carrot and does his best to cut all the pieces uniformly. 

Miles rolls his eyes and breaks up the meat. “Because it would be confusing otherwise.” He transfers the beef to a plate and then sautés the onions and carrots. “Now stop dawdling and add in the noodles. The water is boiling.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m doing it.” Phoenix notices the pot is too small for the noodles and makes a move to snap them in half.

“Objection!” 

Phoenix’s body goes rigid, and he’s transported to the courtroom. He shakes his head and snaps out of the illusion. “What the hell, Miles?!” 

The noodles are taken from him, and Miles adds them—unbroken—to the boiling water. The hot water softens them enough to be bent and fully submerged. “It was the fastest way to get your attention,” Miles says, giving the water a good stir to ensure none of the noodles stick to the pot. “You were about to commit a culinary crime!”

“Are the food police going to break down our door and haul me off to food jail?” Phoenix takes over noodle watch duty and leans against the counter.

“No, but I would have kicked you out of the kitchen.” Miles adds tomato paste to the vegetables and lets them cook for a minute before adding the tinned tomatoes. He adds the beef and some beef stock, seasoning afterwards. Thyme and a hint of paprika fill the kitchen. 

Phoenix ignores the rumbling in his stomach and glares at his husband, although there’s no heat behind it. “You wouldn’t,” he says, straining the spaghetti once it’s done cooking.

“Oh, but I would. I don’t bother because I know you’ll keep pestering me until I let you back in.” Phoenix opens his mouth to retort but is captivated by the smell of spaghetti bolognese. Miles cooks the noodles in a portion of the sauce. The kitchen is thick with the aroma of beef, tomatoes, and thyme. “You better close your mouth. Or are you trying to imitate a fountain?”

Phoenix closes his mouth and wipes his drool on his sleeve. When Miles plates the pasta with an additional topping of sauce, he makes little grabby hands to demand his plate. “You really did take some classes,” Phoenix says, forking some pasta and groaning at the taste. “This is so good.”

“It’s even better with Parmasean.” Miles goes to the freezer and returns with a chunk of Parmesan cheese and a grater. He grates a generous amount on his pasta and a mountain on Phoenix’s (the man loves cheese, don’t judge him). 

Phoenix takes another bite—with parmesan—and relishes the taste. “Everything's better with cheese! Unless you’re lactose intolerant… but that doesn’t seem to stop most people.” He thinks of Larry when he took a date to a fondue place because she always wanted to eat there. Poor Larry really wanted to impress the gal and suffered soon after. 

Phoenix moans on his next bite, and it sounds downright sinful. Miles tries to keep his mind out of the gutter. Honestly, they haven’t been intimate in a while. They’ve both been swamped with work. Because people seem to just commit more crimes this time of year? Long story short, the moans are doing something to him. He finishes the rest of his spaghetti and sets the dish in the sink, the strain in his trousers becoming uncomfortable. Phoenix also finishes eating soon after and goes to the sink.

“Since I did most of the cooking, you will wash the dishes.”

“Wha—” Miles interrupts with a hug from behind. Phoenix stiffens when he feels something hard poking him. “What about the movie?” he asks. His breaths become heavier. A kiss is pressed onto his neck, and he shivers. Goosebumps rise on his skin.

“The faster you do the dishes, the quicker we get to dessert.” Miles trails his hands down, teasing with gentle touches. “The movie can wait till another time.” He finishes with a nip to the earlobe and pulls away, taking in the sight of a beautifully flushed Phoenix Wright. He licks his lips. “And you, darling, taste absolutely divine.”

Phoenix has never washed dishes so quickly in his life. 

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

End Note:

I love their dynamic so much. I definitely want to write more of them but that probably won't be for a while. The struggles of liking so many fandoms as a writer ╯︿╰

See you guys at my next fic! ヾ(￣▽￣)

Reblogs are appreciated!

[callmeshakespurr]

Hey, if you're requests are open could you do a Rick Flag × Male Villian Reader (fluff) idk something cute where Rick Flag ends up falling in love with Male Reader, and the feeling is mutual. Idk you can fo what you want with it. ❤

Rick Flag x Male Reader

Requested: yes

Category: fluff, just a little bit of angst

Warnings: slight torture (?), i mention a knife like,, once

Note: I haven’t watched Suicide Squad in some time, so this could’ve turned out just the tiniest bit yandere, I hope you don’t mind! Also- I kinda struggled with this cause its my first time writing an actual one shot, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways (:

Tysm for requesting, hope you enjoy it <3

“Where is he?”, Amanda Waller called out as she walked down the hallway, towards the high security room you were currently kept in — Colonal Richard ‘Rick’ Flag not far behind her.

Her call grabbed the attention of the two guards, who stood in front of your cell.

“Is he in there?”, Amanda asked again, approaching the door with fast steps. One of the guards nodded and opened the thick metal door to let the director and the colonel in.

Amanda Waller had tried to get her hands on you for almost five years now, after you first made an apperiance in a club, killing two people. After that, several assassinations followed. Nobody knew who you exactly were, what you looked like, who you worked for; you were like a shadow — what people then came to call you, Shadow.

The major reason of why nobody could get a hold of you even in the slightest bit, was because you always vanished before anybody could even spot you.

After two years of not being able to catch you, the police gave up on further investigation in your cases. Amanda didn’t break so easily though. She wanted you in one of those cells she kept so many freaks in already, and she wasn’t going to give up until she had you sitting behind one of those metal doors, unable to escape her.

After all these years of going after you, she did manage to find out two major things about you. Why you always managed to escape without anyone catching a glimpse of you, and what your weakness was.

All these things led to the present situation.

You sat in a dark room, the only light source being a small lamp, dangling from the ceiling. Your ankles were tightly cuffed to the chair you were sitting on, on your wrists and neck you felt something cold and heavy, which seemed to send small electric shocks through your body every few seconds.

You weren’t sure where you exactly were, since you passed out before they got you. Hell, you didn’t even know who ‘they’ were.

You closed your eyes, trying to concentrate on your thoughts, which was not as easy as you hoped it would be. To say that you were in pain was an understatement. The electricity flowing through your body kept you from thinking straight, and send a wave of pure pain through your limbs with every shock you got.

A female voice ripped you from your trance, and you slowly opened your eyes again, head still hanging low. You knew that voice and you knew that you didn’t stand a chance anymore.

“Your powers won’t work anymore, unless i allow you to use them, so don’t even try.”, that voice belonged to none other than Amanda Waller, probably the only person on this planet you actually feared. You were never scared of what her minions could do to you, no. You were scared of what she could do to you if she ever managed to get you — which almost happened on several occasions.

You clenched your fists, trying to ignore the pain that came over you again, as you frantically tried to somehow sort your thoughts and find a way out of this, but nothing seemed to work. There was no way out of this. There was no escaping this. The feeling of helplessness washed over you, a feeling you didn’t like at all.

“You’re Y/N L/N, you’re a teleporter, thats how you managed to always vanish before the police got to the crime scene”, Amanda spoke, watching you as you sat there on the chair, staring at the ground, unable to move a single muscle. “It took me some time, but i managed to figure out how to block your powers”, she continued, taking slow steps towards you “Teleporters are extremely sensitive to electricity, some mightve even already died due to the constant pain if they were in your place.” She stopped right in front of you, looking down at your slumped figure, the only thing restraining you from falling over being the thick metallic handcuffs that kept your hands tied behind the chair.

Amanda grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at her. Your sight was blurry and it cost you a lot of strength to even keep your eyes open, but you did manage to make out the silhouette of a rather tall person standing at the entrance of the cell, watching the whole scene, before your focus was back on the woman in front of you. “You’re actually a very pretty boy, Y/N, and very smart too, it’s a shame that you decided to end up like this.”, she said, before letting your face go. “Rick, take him to get the injection, then get his things and introduce him to the team. After that, you can take him to his provided cell.”

The man standing at the door — Rick, you assumed — made his way towards you, as Waller left the room, leaving you to the colonel.

Rick helped you out of the cuffs, that kept you strapped to the chair. Looking at you, he almost felt bad, you looked so drained and helpless. He had never exactly agreed with anything Amanda Waller did, but seeing what just a few hours under her control did with you was another level of not agreeing with something she did.

“Can you stand?”, the colonel asked and you nodded, slowly rising from the chair. Your legs wobbled beneath your weight and you instinctively grabbed onto whats next to you, which just so happened to be Ricks Arm.

After making sure you had gathered enough strength, he began to walk with you towards the door.

time skip

It’s been a little over a week now since they’ve brought you here — you think. Every day was the same. Sitting on the cold floor of your cell, staring at the camera in the corner of your ceiling, some guard bringing you food, you not eating it, some guard taking it away again and reporting everything to someone, more staring at the camera, someone bringing you food again, you not eating it again, the guard taking it away again and reporting everything, all over again, everyday.

The only slightest bit good and entertaining thing was the colonel — Rick Flag, as you learned was his name — checking up on you every now and then when he didn’t have anything better to do. You didn’t quite understand why Rick was making efforts to look after you, just for you to not answer his questions anyways, but you appreciated it. It made everything a little more bearable.

Of course, you were one of the bad guys, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a life outside of assassinations.

When you weren’t working for other bad guys, you loved to just sit in your apartment and read, you loved to go onto high buildings and watch over the city. You dreamed of leaving everything behind and exploring the world someday. You worked at your favourite coffee shop, hell you even had a cat. The thought of your only friend being probably already dead or suffering made you sad, but what could you do about it?

Sometimes, you wish you hadn’t picked the path you were on, but looking back at the time you chose to work for the bad guys, you didn’t really have a choice.

Your train of thoughts was interrupted, when you heard the door to your cell open. Hoping it would be Rick, you looked up, your eyes only half open from the lack of strength you had. What you did not expect was to see Amanda Waller standing in front of you, Rick Flag behind her.

“Stand up”, the woman demanded. You listened, as it was of no use to resist her orders. You slowly got up on your feet, which didn’t last long, since you almost immediately fell over, landing painfully hard on your knees. To your suprise, Rick immediately rushed to your side, helping you stand up again.

“I don’t need him on missions like this”, Waller spoke as she watched you lean onto Rick for support. “Take him to the base, the council and I will be waiting there in the meeting room for him.” With that, Waller left again.

The way to the car wasn’t long, but with you almost not being able to stand on you own, let alone walk on your own, it took a little longer, which only fueled your anxiety. The ride to the base was even worse though, since nobody talked and you had five guards sitting around you.

Finally arriving at the door of the meeting room, which was located in the base, the two guards standing in front of it immediately opened the door as soon as they saw the colonel.

The room was quiet at an instance, when you stepped a food inside, Rick following very close behind you — just in case something should happen.

Amanda Waller stood in front of a group of suit wearing men who all sat at one big round table, most likely discussing something. She gestured you to come next to her, to which you complied.

“And who is this now, Director Waller? A new addition to your group of- freaks?”, asked one of the men as he looked you up and down, probably doubting that someone like you could be much of an good asset.

“This, Gentlemen,”, she grabbed your arm and moved you a little forward, making you almost tumble “is Y/N L/N or ‘Shadow’, he was an assassin for almost five years now, working for several other bad guys. Nobody got a hold of him till now due to his teleporting ability. He has over a hundred confirmed kills and not once did anyone ever get near him. I’m using these electric cuffs”, she grabbed your arm again and lifted it up to present the metal cuff, which was secured around your arm “to block his powers, which means he cannot teleport, as long as the electric shocks are on full power. As soon as I turn down the power a little, he can use his power, it is more draining and limited to a certain radius, but it works. I have him under full control and I want him on the team.” Murmurs broke out between the people in the room, as soon as she finished.

“I’m sorry, director, but do you really think it’s a good idea to put another- another misfit on that team? They’re bad guys and will always stay bad guys, and their freaky abilities make them even more dangerous.”, one of the men in suits spoke.

“As I said, I have him under full control, gentlemen. Let me demonstrate.”, Amanda spoke, turning to you, as the people sitting at the table sat back.

Waller took out some kind of remote and tapped on something. First your body tensed due to all the stress and pain you were under at the moment, but as soon as Amanda tapped on the remote, the electric shocks suddenly weren’t as intense as they were before, and your whole body relaxed, your eyes almost watering due to the wave of relief washing over you.

Rick was more than tense while watched the whole situation, only realizing in how much pain you actually were when Waller turned down the intensity of the electric shocks emmitting from the metallic cuffs you were wearing.

Waller looked you in the eyes with a serious expression on her face. “You disobey, you die, got that?” And suddenly you remembered the injection they gave you, when they first brought you here.

Seeing you had no other choice than obeying her, you simply gave her a small nod and looked around the room, taking in every detail. You looked at the small table in front of you, spotting a sharp knife, which you figured was put there by Amanda specifically for you in this exact situation.

With fast movements, you grabbed the knife and teleported to the other side of the room, holding the knife to one of the mens throat. Everyone in the room stiffened even more, and you heard at least three guns clicking.

Looking up, your eyes met Rick’s, before you looked over to Waller, who was already fixated on you. You slowly pressed the knife more against the man’s throat, wanting to see what Waller was going to do. The next electric shock came and you almost yelled out in pain, letting the knife fall, teleporting back to Waller and falling to your knees, clutching the metal around your neck.

Rick wanted to rush to help you, but was quickly held back by Amanda, gesturing him to wait.

“As you can see, I can control his powers however i want to, and should he disobey in any way, or should his powers bolt”, she tilted your head with her finger, than pressed onto the spot on your neck where they injected you, “he dies.”

Still staring at the ground, you swallowed harshly. You’ve never wanted to go back in time and undo all the bad things that happened so badly like in this specific moment. Maybe if you’re parents hadn’t ever found about your ability, you would still be at home, with your family, not here, being tortured by some government lady who wanted to use you as a weapon.

“There’s one more thing. I don’t need him on any mission in this shape. He needs to recover, quickly, and while doing so, I want him under Rick Flags complete supervision. It might cost a little more effort, but think about of how much use he will be for us”, Amanda said, a mischievous expression crossing her face for a few seconds, that going unnoticed by you and pretty much everyone else in the room.

time skip

Three whole months had passed. You’ve been staying with Rick ever since Amanda Waller announced that he had to fully supervise you.

The time you spent with Rick made you feel as if everything wasn’t so bad after all. Occasional talking here and there, Rick cooking something for the both of you every now and then, you almost felt normal again — weren’t there the electric cuffs reminding you of what was real every few minutes.

Over the past three months, your sleep only got worse. You got used to the constant pain by now, but the electricity didn’t only affect you physically, it also messed up your thoughts like hell. Sometimes you didn’t know where up and down was anymore, everything was all over the place inside your mind.

That was also the reason, you were up right now, in the middle of the night, sitting at the big window in your bedroom, looking over the city. You hugged your knees tightly to your chest, and rested you chin on them, letting a few tears slip. You hadn’t cried in a long time, but you were just so exhausted. You were never this close to giving up than right now. Nothing seemed to ever be okay again, you couldn’t do anything but accept your fate.

Being to entangled in your own thoughts, you didn’t hear your bedroom door open.

It didn’t take Rick a long time to spot you in your place at the window. He just came home from a mission that Amanda Waller had wanted you on, but Rick insisted on giving you a little more time to deal with everything.

The tall man closed the door as quietly as he could behind him, which seemed to not be quiet enough, since you jumped slightly at the noise, quickly standing up and turning around. Rick gave you an apologetic look, before slowly walking towards you, “I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked, I just wanted to check up on you and see if you’re alright-“ “It’s fine, I’m fine”, you interrupted him, wiping your tears quickly, taking a deep breath.

Rick frowned, he had never seen you cry before. He cared too much for you and he knew it, he just couldn’t help himself. Stopping in front of you, he looked down at you, only for his eyes to meet yours. For a moment, you both got lost in each others eyes, before you ripped your gaze away, looking to the side.

“Do you want anything else from me?”, you asked shakily, getting a little nervous with his burning stare on you.

“I actually do, yes-“, he hesitated for a moment. You looked up at him with a questioning expression. “Close your eyes”, you complied, closing your eyes slightly, one hand moving to hold onto Rick’s shirt so you didn’t lose your balance. You felt him lean down slightly, till you could fell his warm breath on your cheek. You surpressed a shiver, as he carefully tilted your head.

Now, you didn’t really know what to expect; you and Rick had gotten closer but you weren’t sure, if there were actual romantic feelings, or if he just pitied you, so a kiss wasn’t exactly what you expected. But you definitely would’ve expected it more than what happened next.

A small ‘click’ echoed through the dark room, the next thing you knew was, that all the pain suddenly disappeared. Your eyes watered when you felt Rick’s fingers carefully removing the heavy metallic cuffs around your wrists and neco, pure relief washing over you. Your leaned your body onto Rick’s, unable to support your own weight for a few moments.

When you had finally gained control over your own body again, you moved back a few centimetres and looked up to Rick, who met your confused eyes. “I couldn’t bear to see you in so much pain any longer, so I triedmy best to convince her and I’d say I’m lucky that she trusts me with you.”, the colonel smiled a little, raising a hand to softly carress your cheek. Your eyes widened. He quickly removed his hand again and apologized, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Rick took a step back, still being careful so you didn’t lose balance again, “I should go, and you should sleep, you need to be well rested and-“

You were fast to interrupt him by taking a quick step towards him, getting a little on your tiptoes, before pressing a small kiss to Rick’s lips. You carefully looked him in the eyes again, “I don’t know either, but it just felt like the right thing to do.”

It took the man a few seconds to process what just happened, but when he did, he was quick to kiss you again, his soft lips over yours, moving slowly, as you kissed back. He put his hands on your waist, while you locked yours behind his neck. You kissed for a few moments, before the both of you had to breathe again. “Thank you”, you whispered against Rick’s lips, before receiving another small peck. “Sleep with me tonight?”, he asked quietly, getting lost in your eyes again. You gave him a small nod, allowing him to pick you up and carry you to his room, both of you smiling as you fell onto the mattress.

[artbyceno]

I cannot believe how much this earthquake has affected me, and I was so far away from it that I didn't even feel it when it happened.

But now, I open the TV and see that the number of deaths has gone up to 30 thousand, I see geologists crying and begging, telling the people and the government that this will happen again. I see the government turn a blind eye, all cozy in their warm coats while the children in front of them that are used as props don't have coats on in freezing weather after they've lost their home.

I open twitter and read that wolf packs have descended down the mountains because they're attracted to the smell of dead flesh, because no one has gone to the villages to help, no one is either able to or willing to.

I saw a picture of two dead people hugging under the rubble today. I can never erase that moment from my mind. I remember how purple her face looks as if it is right in front of me.

I remember the father who didn't stop holding his dead daughter's hand after they failed to save her. I think, what if that was my father mourning me on a freezing morning as I lay rotting just one meter away?

I keep thinking of those sixteen babies, possibly even more now, who have no relatives left alive. No names. No family. Their futures ripped from them.

My father's friend saved three people from under the rubble, but all three died later in the hospital.

People are being buried in trash bags and their graves have a number on them instead of a name. Imagine living your whole life, only to be remembered as a number, in a trash bag.

I can't sleep until 4 a.m. because I fear another earthquake will catch me when I am fast asleep in the night.

When I sleep, I have nightmares about being stuck under my own roof. The ground still shakes, I yell but I don't hear anyone yell back.

Today, I woke up startled because I heard the kids outside playing, and when they screamed I thought it was an earthquake happening.

I take the shortest shower possible because I'm scared an earthquake will happen when I am wet, and the cold of the night will freeze me before anyone can help.

I keep my cat's bed next to mine so that I can grab her if anything happens.

Whenever the house creaks because the neighbours upstairs are moving furniture, I think this is it. I will die before I ever get to live.

This is me without ever experiencing such a disaster, imagine the people actually living through it. Imagine they don't have coats like I do, they don't have pads for periods, they don't have diapers, food, water, heat. Hope.

I beg you, please donate. Every little bit counts. I will leave a link as well as a picture explaining how much of a difference your donation can make down below. Please help my sisters and brothers.

And if I perish in the next earthquake, I hope God will give me such a strong breath that the people responsible will always feel my breath down their necks.

I hope God gives me such strong eyes that they always feel my gaze on them, and it keeps them awake in their warm houses.

I hope God gives me such strong hands that they feel my grip on their throats, and they can't swallow a damn morsel they've stolen from my people.

EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS!

As some of you might know, my home Turkiye was struck by two very devastating earthquakes. 10 cities were levelled to the ground and as of right now there are 20 thousand deaths and 80 thousand injured, these numbers go up by the hour.

In exchange for a commission, I want you to donate a minimum of 10$ to Ahbap, which is one of the most trusted donation sites as of right now, I will link it below. Please DM me! You can find my work on my Twitter, Instagram and right below! If you can't donate, please at least spread the word! Thank you so much in advance!