#consistently i never have any idea what bits will fight me the hardest

[sollucets]

wheres that post thats like. [emerges from google docs covered in blood] anyway oowu4. done. i think. just editposting now

[farfromharry]

Beth [ 16 ] | Dad!Eddie Munson series

Sixteen, Stress

Word count - 4113

Warnings - language idk? some angst again lol

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September 1995

Caring for a newborn baby was harder than you ever would have expected it to be. Eddie may have been through this once before, so he had a bit of a better grasp at things, but you were suffering big time. You didn’t even know how he could have possibly done this by himself as the dumb twenty year old he was. At twenty-nine this was the hardest thing you had ever done, even harder than when you began raising a five year old. 

Who, speaking of, was being needier than you ever thought she could be. You were tired, so painfully tired, and Lola wasn’t giving you a minute of rest. Now was the time you could really use Eddie, but while you were recovering from your baby he was in charge of the diner. He had been working a lot more than usual because of that. Maybe if your husband was here, things wouldn’t have gone to shit. 

For the last half an hour, Lola had been screaming at the top of her lungs, and you had no idea what she wanted. She wasn’t hungry, her diaper was clean, she didn’t want to sleep– you were lost. Bat wasn’t helping either, the cat was consistent in his attempts to try and get some affection, but you kept shooing him away. So, when Beth started to ask you a bunch of random questions rather than do any of the tasks you’d tried to busy her with while you tried to soothe your crying baby, you felt like you could pull your hair out. 

You were a little disheveled when you turned to look at her. With the kindest smile and most desperate eyes you could muster, you begged her to just give you some time to sort this whole thing out. “Beth, sweetheart, please just give me five minutes.” In your mind, you hadn’t been rude at all, that was the best way you could have asked you to give you time, just until Lola’s cries stopped and then you were all hers. 

She frowned, any trace of joy or excitement fading from her eyes as she stared back at you. You didn’t know if she was being purposefully difficult, maybe a little irritated that she wasn’t getting the undivided attention she used to from both you and her father. “Why?” she asked, harshly. 

You blinked, not used to her fighting back against such a basic request. “Because, I need to get her to stop crying. I can’t do two things at once, sweetheart.” Even as you grew more and more stressed, you never raised your voice at her. Didn’t try to show you were growing irritated at all actually. 

“Is she more important now?” she began, tears springing to her eyes as she stared at you cradling the baby desperately. You tried to tell her no, shaking your head, but it seemed like her mind was made up. She did think she’d become less important to you, maybe even your husband too, now that Lola was here. “Is it because you’re her real mom and not mine?” 

You gasped, eyes widening at the explosion from the nine year old. Your mind was short circuiting from all the different things going on as you tried to come up with something to tell her. Everything she had just said to you was wrong, she wasn’t any less important or any less of your daughter just because you didn’t give birth to her. “Beth, no. I love you just as much as I love Lola.” You were being completely honest. She wasn’t seeing it though, not when your eyes fell back to the baby in your arms as her cries got louder, instead of moving to comfort her. 

She sighed, turning on her heel to head in the direction of her room where she knew you would respect her enough to leave her be while she moped. “Beth,” you tried, weakly, wincing as your daughter tugged on any loose hairs she could reach to gather your attention. She didn’t hear the way your voice cracked. As much as you wished Beth would have been more understanding, you knew she was adjusting to a new member of the family just like you and Eddie were, and although you would have loved to drop everything to subdue her worries, you couldn’t. There was a bigger responsibility you had to tend to. And maybe once the noise finally died down you would be able to give her your undivided attention and fix things. You hoped you could fix things before your husband got home, you didn’t want him to feel torn or angry with either of you. He also didn’t need the added stress. 

For the rest of the day she was in her room, despite your many attempts to coax her out to talk or spend time together. As soon as Lola was down for her nap your first instinct was to ask Beth if she was hungry or wanted to watch a movie or something. All you got back was silence. You respected the fact she wanted to be alone, at least until it came time for her to eat dinner, then you didn’t really have a choice. She had to eat. 

“Sweetheart?” you called, knocking lightly on the door, plate of lasagna in hand– her favorite. As expected there was no response. This time around you didn’t plan on waiting for her to open up, instead you took the initiative to do it yourself. “I brought you dinner.”

Your eyes landed on where she was sitting on the side of her bed, the guitar her dad bought her a few years back in her arms and the family cat curled up beside her. She was mindlessly strumming, her cheeks shimmering with dried tears that broke your heart. There was a very prominent sullen pout on her face as you set the plate down on her desk, attempting to catch her eye. 

“Sounds good,” you complimented. It was naive of you to think if she didn’t think you were mad then the two of you could make up. She avoided your gaze, didn’t thank you for the food you cooked either, but you didn’t let that get to you. “Well, I’ll be in the living room if you want to hangout. Come and join whenever.”

The cabin was more or less silent until Eddie got home from the diner that evening. It had gone past eleven when he walked through the door, and he found you and your baby girl on the couch. To him it looked as though you’d tried to get some sleep, but she had clearly disturbed it and now here you were, unable to fall back into the rest you craved. He sympathized, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t excited to be greeted with you both when he entered the home. 

“Hey,” he said, gaining a tired smile from you as he approached. After giving you a quick kiss, he took the baby from your arms, granting your muscles some much needed relief from the weight. 

“There’s my Lols,” he cooed, holding the baby up in the air before he brought her close to him to press kisses to her chubby cheeks. He was notably exhausted when you looked at him properly. “Did you miss me?” he asked her.

Unlike him, you heard the creak of the door in the nearby distance, and the sound of small footsteps headed your way. Only briefly did you make eye contact with the child. She was the one to look away before you could so much as offer a hopeful smile– she didn’t want to hear any of it. Though she was the one that snapped and technically should have been apologizing, you felt like there was something you needed to make up for. Until you talked to her, you weren’t going to know what it was, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to attempt to make things better. 

“Daddy?” To Beth it must have looked like Eddie wasn’t listening, or that maybe he was ignoring her. In truth, he was so caught up fussing the infant in his arms that he barely registered anything else around him– even you. 

There was a huff somewhere close by that he did hear though, and he pulled his eyes away from Lola for just a few seconds to see Beth standing there, looking at him expectantly. She outstretched her arms to him, signaling she too wanted to be lifted into his arms. Unfortunately for her, he couldn’t do that, not while he was carrying the other girl. “Hi, sweet girl,” he greeted, bending down to her height to press a kiss to her head. “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?”

Her lips curled into a frown and she made a disgruntled sound at the back of her throat before walking away. The dad hadn’t meant it in a mean way, and he wasn’t mad at her or anything. Apparently she didn’t see it like that, and that wasn’t like her at all. He stood back up to his full height, being wary of the child cradled to his chest, then shot you a look.

“What’s up with her?” he asked, quietly, making sure she was out of earshot before he spoke. He knew the girl inside out, so he definitely knew she wasn’t being herself at the moment. She was acting cold towards him, and a little bratty when she didn’t get her exact way.

“We had a fight today,” you said, simply. “Well, not really a fight. She sort of just yelled at me.”

Eddie was surprised to hear that. In his nine years of raising Beth, they had had minimal negative interactions. When she was a toddler there were tantrums, obviously, and there’d been a few occasions where either one of the two had said something they didn’t mean which had resulted in hurt feelings. But he never expected his little angel to treat you like that; she utterly adored you.

“I’ll talk to her. See what’s going on.” 

Some part of you just didn’t think that was the best idea. There was something deep in your chest that was telling you he would only make it worse if he was to initiate an important conversation about her behavior before she was ready. “Maybe, let her come to us. We don’t want to make it worse than it already is.”

If there wasn’t such despair in your eyes, he probably would have argued it, but he wanted to respect your wishes. “Yeah, yeah, okay. ‘M sure everything will be fine.”

The earliest you would be able to talk to her would be the following day after you all got some sleep. Though it was probably a silly idea to go to bed upset, and the nine year old angry, there wasn’t much of a choice. 

The next morning, the atmosphere in the kitchen wasn’t tense until Beth entered. You and Eddie had been woken up early, your three month old deciding she was hungry at an almost ungodly time of the morning. Originally you were the only one to leave the bed, but your husband ended up joining you when he realized trying to fall back to sleep was useless. Soon enough he’d be getting up for work and to take Beth to school anyway, what difference would it make if he got up a little earlier. 

The two of you were taking your time to really wake up, making the most of the time you had. You were at the table, cradling your warm mug of coffee that was basically your lifeline at the moment. It wasn’t a drink you particularly enjoyed, but minimal hours of sleep and a screaming newborn would do that to you. Sometimes you needed it to properly wake for the day, nothing like how you used to be. Eddie had attempted to make some toast for the two of you, just to keep you from starving for a little while, but had found himself instead distracted with Lola; bread abandoned on the counter beside him where he was standing.

You admired the sight of the two together, a faint smile on your lips. He looked so effortlessly perfect, you noted, truly acting as the best dad you’d ever seen where she rested in his arms. As she gurgled away, he made dramatic facial expressions, like the two were having their own secret conversation. As she waved her hands near his face, he’d press sweet kisses to her palms, prompting her to laugh from the ticklish feeling. And when he attempted to resume his task of ‘cooking’ with her cradled to his bare chest, and she showed interest in the bright jar of raspberry jam on the side, who was he to say no? 

That was how you ended up fondly watching the sight of your husband attempting to feed your daughter jam, even if you weren’t sure he was supposed to, as your other daughter finally entered the room.

The tension started from that moment on. “Hey Beth,” you greeted, hoping the cheery tone of your voice would make her forget all about the argument. “Did you sleep okay?”

Eddie watched the scene unfold with bated breath. He didn’t want to intervene and end up overstepping, this issue had been between the two of you and you needed to resolve it together— but he hated seeing two of the most important people in his life fight, especially for the first time. There was an ounce of hope in his chest that maybe Beth would have let it go, would answer your question as joyfully as usual and join the two of you for breakfast. However, he was quickly let down.

She completely ignored you, ignored the look you and Eddie shared too as she took a seat at the table as far from you as she possibly could. It made your heart sting, a frown curling on your lips.

At the sight of such a sad, lost expression on your face, when only moments ago you had looked so happy, the dad thought he might try his hand at instigating conversation. “Don’t ignore your mom, sweet girl, come on.” He tried to be as kind as possible, as sympathetic, but it didn’t seem to work. In fact it only worsened the issue.

“Not my mom,” she grumbled. 

The two of you were taken back, staring at the girl like she was a stranger. Never once had the child acted so coldly towards you— it was like she was a different person or something.

“Beth Munson!” her dad scolded, consequently scaring the baby in his arms with the tone and volume of his voice. 

Eddie didn’t yell often, not at his kids of all people, so the outburst was met with tears from the berated girl. The sight brought an ache to your heart, one much worse than the one that had been festering since the original fight. You didn’t care that she was mad at you in that moment, you still felt the strong desire to protect her from that that was making her cry. “Honey, it’s fine. Let me just take Lola and we can all calm down.” 

He could read you like an open book— that was what five years of a relationship would do for you. So as you carefully took the wailing baby from his hold, he wasn’t blind to the tears you were rapidly blinking away. Her words had hurt you, that was clear. “Talk to her,” you encouraged, referring to the sobbing child sitting at that table.

With a quick, reassuring squeeze to his bicep, you took Lola to your shared room where it was quiet enough to pacify her. Even now that you were alone, with no eyes watching, you still pushed back your waves of sadness. If you were sad, then in turn so was your little girl and you didn’t want that.

In the kitchen Eddie was having just about as much success as you were in soothing your daughter. 

For a few minutes the two just watched each other quietly, the space filled with the occasional sniffle from the little girl. That was until he bulked up the courage to apologize for the shouting, closing the distance between them with a barely audible sigh. “I’m sorry for yelling. I didn’t mean to.” 

It was simple. Easy. That was all she needed to hear, plus the added kindness where he wiped away her tears from her cheeks. 

“But…” She didn’t like the sound of that. She knew that whatever followed wasn’t going to be to her liking and she began to dread it. “You hurt Y/N’s feelings, now and yesterday. You need to apologize, Beth.” He hated having to call you by your first name in this situation. For the last four, almost five, years you had been referred to as nothing but the nine year old’s mother. That was something that began with the girl herself. It was heartbreaking to him that now he was having to revert back to basics as he feared another outburst. 

Her once soft features suddenly contorted into angry ones, and he knew he’d made the wrong move. Mere seconds later, she was leaving him alone in the kitchen to storm back to her room, the door slamming shut in the process. There was peace for only a few seconds, then the crying of a baby started up again. That was the moment he realized you had finally gotten Lola quiet, only for Beth to spoil it all over again. 

He knew you were probably losing your mind, so he was going to step in to give you even just a few minutes of peace.

Upon entering your bedroom, he noticed the sound of not only one set of cries, but two. At some point while you’d been rocking the three month old, you yourself had started to cry, streaks of tears now staining your face. “Let me take her, Sunshine.” 

He expected almost automatic compliance, if not just to get away from the screeching sound. But he was surprised to be met with rejection. You shook your head, showing your determination. “I can do it. I need to do it.” Whereas Eddie had raised one baby already, this was still your first. You felt as though you had a long way to go in order to prove the two of you were on the same level. One of your worst nightmares was for someone to look at your family and think Eddie did all the work, that you were incompetent in taking care of your own kids— of the baby you grew and birthed. It was already looking that way though, one of them hated you and the other was well on their way if the sound of Lola’s cries had anything to say for it. 

Your blubbering was only getting worse the longer you were unsuccessful. Your husband didn’t know how exactly to help; he felt useless.

“Y/N, please.” 

With a painful look of desperation, you gave in, handing her to her father for him to deal with. You didn’t want to watch as he masterfully settled her worries, so you took a seat on the end of your bed instead, hiding your face in your hands

It took almost no time for the wails to stop, the girl back in her crib by the other side of the bed. She wasn’t peacefully sleeping just yet, but with the way her dad was humming to her, you were sure she would be soon. Eventually Eddie watched as her eyes fluttered shut, a soft grin finding place on his lips. “There we go.” 

After he was positive she was okay, he moved back over to you. Though he seemed to be a professional when it came to babies, he was awful at comforting adults. He started by taking your hands in his, letting you know with subtle touch that he was there. “Talk to me.” 

You sniffled. “I think I’m turning into my mom, and I don’t know how to stop it.” 

“What do you mean?” He may have been confused, but he knew it couldn’t have been good. You’d mentioned to him before that you feared becoming your mother one day, treating your kids as terribly as you’d been treated, making them feel unloved.

“Cold. A bad mom. My daughter’s hate me, both within two days.” 

Those words couldn’t have been any farther from the truth. He hated that you were unable to see that, for him it was basically written in stone. The motion of his thumb rubbing circles on your hand coming to a stop was what made you look at him. You had never seen those puppy eyes of his look so distraught yet so serious. “Don’t think like that, ever. You’re the best mom, and they adore you.” 

His words weren’t resonating with you. He could tell. “Ed-“

“No. I’m serious, Y/N. I don’t need to have met her to know you’re nothing like that woman.”

His tone was unwavering, letting you know he was telling the truth. “I know you’ve never once considered leaving these kids— or even thought about the fact that you might not love them. You love so hard, and they both love you back just as much.” 

“But-“ you started, only to be shut down with a single look from him. “Absolutely no buts. This isn’t something I’ll budge on.” 

With perfect timing, Bat decided that was the moment to brush up against your leg, grabbing both yours and Eddie’s attention. He smiled down at the animal, scooping him up so he could be closer to you both. “See, even Bat agrees.” The moment was sweet, despite the reasoning behind it. The two gazed at each other, scratching at the black cat’s fur affectionately. You weren’t a hundred percent convinced, but he’d definitely done a good job at making you feel a little bit better.

He didn’t know why he’d happened to glance in the direction of the clock, but he was glad that he did. If the two of you had been stuck in your discussion any longer, Beth surely would have been late.

“Look, I need to take her to school,” he started, bringing your attention to the time. You hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. “Lola’s sleeping, she’ll be fine. Just relax for a little, we can talk and figure all this mess out when I get back. Okay?” 

You nodded, mustering up your strength to give him the best smile you could. He appreciated the gesture, dropping a quick kiss to your lips before he set off on the task of herding Beth out of the house on time. 

When he finally took her to school, he wasn’t gone long. The school wasn’t far, and he usually made his way straight home after he watched her enter the classroom. But his mood had done a complete one-eighty by the time he waltzed through the front door. No longer was he the cheery, hopeful husband you said goodbye to, but now he was in a similar state to what you were earlier on.

“What happened?” you questioned, approaching him cautiously. You set a gentle hand on his back, guiding him to the couch where the two of you would find it more comfortable to talk.

The second the words left your mouth, he was basically spewing all his worries. “She-She didn’t hold my hand on the way. Or say ‘I love you’ when I left her.” 

The tone of his voice made your chest hurt, a feeling you were becoming much too familiar with lately. It was clear there was something going on with her that she wasn’t letting you in on, but now she was taking it out on her dad too. This was supposed to be between you and her that the two of you could figure out together. You didn’t think she would take it this far. 

There was still hope in your heart. That she would suddenly change back to her normal self just as quickly as she’d gotten upset, or the guilt would finally get to her and all could be normal again. For now though, you needed to reassure your husband. “It might be difficult for a couple days, but I’m sure she’ll talk to us soon.” You wanted to eat those words when she in fact didn’t. You had no idea that months could go by before she truly forgave you and things went back to normal.

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(if theres a strike through it wont allow me to tag you, pls make sure your tags are on!!)

[annaizscribbling]

*kicks ur door down, slams twenty dollars onto ur desk* I need some info.

im gonna send u a different ask for each question lmao SO.

I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT A MOMENT OF POTENTIAL REMUS!!! how did he get here!!! may i question u on his childhood perhaps?

how did he become an assassin? for how long? and will he still be a cryptic little shit in this universe like he is in some of your other fics? (im assuming not because he’s actually human now and not a borderline possessed figment of someones imagination but. still. i might as well ask)

*I accept the twenty dollars and immediately lick it before tucking it into my shoe.* That can be arranged.

I love remus so much you don't understand he's so sdSJHBSKSAKFKSGGS yes yes yes. Funky trash assassin with weirdly impressive emotional intelligence who is also a father. Racoon man, dumbly smart, soft, but good at murder, equals kinda hot ngl.

also love how excited I get over every single character lolllll. You mention any of them and suddenly they're my best and most favorite blorbo. I am aware of this flaw, it simply cannot stop me.

In all honesty, I don't have a ton of detailed backstory for Remus besides the fact he was unhinged and broke many many laws. His back story is actually pretty similar to my canon!Calypso backstory, but the favored child was his twin and they weren't particularly rich, and he did fake his death, but he was older, and it wasn't because he was locked in a basement for petty theft as a 10 yr old. Okay so maybe it's somewhat different.

I'll summarize by saying he was happily a problem child, very smart, and enjoyed chaos. He got into tons of fights for the hell of it, and ended up faking his death for good in highschool (and again later for funsies)

He would end up running away and accidently meeting a younger Janus while Janus was pulling a job. Jan was still new to his recent profession, which was a form of vigilante-ing and careful assassinations. Remus figured out what was happening and obnoxiously followed and pestered Janus the entire time before saving Jan's life towards the end of the job.

Janus never ended up shaking Remus, tho he tried for weeks to lose him, Remus popped up no matter what he did. Eventually, Janus just accepted it and brought Remus home to meet Virgil, who was thoroughly confused. From then on, the three were a weird little mismatched family.

They meet when Remus was about 18, and Janus was 29, and Virgil was 17ish. When A Moment with Potential takes place, it's about 10 years later

Remus' natural skills and grey morals had him catching on quickly and progressing Janus' growing operations. It only took him a few years to become increasingly well known for his brutal yet frighteningly strategic fight style.

Remus is indeed a bit of a cryptic lil shit, just not in the same way as like,,,, Low Battery!Remus, who is an all knowing menace. Here, he's just a menace. He's very intuitive, logical, and observant, he just doesn't care too much unless it benefits his tiny family. he's super hard to read and harder to control, giving him that cryptic vibe, but he doesn't know everything, he's a bit more affectionate, and he is wrong sometimes.

I apparently have a bit of a trademark for writing Remus as mentioned above, like a 'cryptic little shit' but that's only because I have no idea how else to lmao. I'm not really vulgar by nature, and I don't struggle with intrusive thoughts, which makes it harder to pull from my own life (which is exactly what I do with literally everything I write to some capacity) so I took some creative liberties with Remus and just stuck with them. I personally don't mind when fics feature out of character characters, as long as those new/altered traits are consistent and deeply incorporated into the story, which I try my hardest to do. with Remus, apparently it worked out because people adore this guy. I get so blushy and dumb, but people have really liked my Remus characterization, which honestly, dude, just thrills me. It's pretty damn cool, cuz I love him too <3

[writing-in-april]

The Case of the Missing Coffee

Spencer Reid x Female Reader 

Summary: Spencer gets on Reader’s nerves just a little too much one day and decides to get back at him.

A/N: This is my piece for the NSFW fic swap- I got @wave0fg00dvibes​ I had this idea on my long list of random ideas for Spencer and when I decided to go in the “hate fuck” direction I landed on this idea. Reminder that requests are open!

Warnings: Petty Reader, Spencer is a bit of a dick, Hate fucking, Dom!spencer, Public sex (sorta),Biting, Choking, Muffling (hand over mouth), a dash of humiliation kink

Masterlist  Word count: 1.8k

Spencer Reid was getting on my very last nerve. That wasn’t a new thing though. For some reason Spencer and I had never gotten along. It seemed as soon as we met we were destined to annoy and bicker until we retired.

Our latest argument centered around a preliminary profile that we were supposed to send off to the Boston PD and as always we both disagreed on what the profile consisted of. This time Spencer had gotten deep under my skin for some reason. His constant bickering had me seething, plus his not so subtle dig at my abilities as a profiler didn’t do anything to help my mood. The whole situation was giving me a headache.

I need coffee

I opened the cabinet where the grounds and sugar were stored in the break room so I could start a cup for myself. I stopped my movements when I caught sight of a large bag of grounds and another bag full of sugar marked in big sharpie letters with Spencer’s name.

Spencer had started to bring his own bags of coffee grounds and sugar after Emily complained about him going through the bullpen’s supplies too fast.

A smirk was dancing evilly on my face at the thought of riling Spencer up by stealing the items for a short while. Every time he decided to push my buttons too far while we were working I usually found some way to get back at him for it. Even though I knew it was petty I still decided to hide his personal coffee grounds and sugar in the bottom drawer of my desk. Maybe he’d think twice next time he disrespected his coworkers.

I’ll give it back to him eventually after he apologized and after having him beg a little.

——-

Later in the day I was sitting in the small file room going through some old case files. Though, mostly I was waiting for Spencer to come down here and confront me about his stolen coffee as I had already finished my most important tasks for the day. He was a genius after all and it was an easy deduction to figure out who had stolen it, only I would dare touch his precious coffee and sugar. Not even Morgan would dare mess with it.

“Where is it.”

Ah, he’s right on time

His dark tone matched the darkness that surrounded the file room that was only illuminated by one light. However, the smirk on my face did not shake, his tone did little to intimidate me. I decided to further annoy him not wanting to give away what I had done with his precious coffee just yet.

“It’s just coffee and sugar Spencer, I’m sure Emily will let you dip into the rest of the BAU’s supplies for today. Though, maybe you should cut down, considering how aggressive you get when you miss your hourly cup.” I was still standing hunched over the files, not even sparing a glance at the genius as I gave him a snippy remark.

“That’s not the point Y/N. I’m more mad about the fact that I know you took it.” Each little quip I decided to give him was making his tone darken almost to the tone he used when interrogating suspects.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have implied that I was an incapable agent.” I turned to face him with a feisty glare and crossed my arms before continuing, “Maybe, then I wouldn’t have taken it.”

“Maybe, you could’ve come to me like an adult and told me you were offended. Maybe- then I would’ve apologized.” My gaze was harsh in response to his remark choosing not to respond to his words. Honestly, the nerve of him sometimes. Though, what really caught me off guard was what happened next.

Instead of further verbally berating me for stealing his brew he surged forward and captured my lips in a harsh kiss. I almost pulled away angrily to slap him but, I found my anger morphing into something new. I kissed him back with fervor not giving him the full satisfaction of completely dominating the kiss. Though all sense of control I held was lost when he roughly slammed me into the filing cabinets making a surprised squeak fall from my lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into my mouth.

I yanked aggressively on his hair as a warning in response to when he dipped his head down attempting to suck hickies and bite marks into my neck. He grunted in agitation, pulling his head up to glare at me in retaliation to the harsh tug on his curls.

The glare on his face held as he yanked my skirt up harshly and pulled my panties down roughly until they fell down my ankles.

He wound his hand around my neck, not very tight at all only having it rest there as a simple warning to obey and take whatever he gave me. I almost found myself fighting his dominance once more before all thoughts of disobedience were wiped from my mind as soon as he moved one finger experimentally to my core. I was already obscenely wet just from a few minutes of a heated make out. Arousal further coated Spencer’s fingers as he started to circle my hole teasingly, my legs started to shake a little from the teasing almost unable to take it.

I bit into my lip hard to stifle any noise my body wanted to make when he finally curled his fingers inside me and obliged me. A small moan escaped despite my best attempts when he brought his thumb up to my clit working in tandem with his other fingers. I had to bite my lip even harder to quiet myself when the hand on my neck tightened, silently warning me to shut up. The only reason I obliged his order was because I’d rather not have gotten caught by my other coworkers being fingered by the person I claimed to hate.

I could feel myself teetering on the edge of release before it was cruelly swiped away from me when he removed his fingers from my core. I whined in objection though the noise was covered by a harsh command by Spencer.

“Jump.” His tone left no room for argument to his order, making any protests I had die in my throat. Normally, I’d argue with any order that Spencer thought he could give me but, the slick arousal that pooled between my legs fought with the resentment that I held for him. So, for once I obeyed willingly, jumping to wrap my legs around his wiry frame. I was half expecting him to drop me, I had never considered Spencer to be very strong at all. But, he proved my thoughts wrong by holding tightly onto me with bruising force, pulling out his cock from his slacks with speed and precision before swiftly entering me with no warning.

A whimper at the sudden stretch started to come from me though, it was quickly stifled by his large palm coming down over my mouth stifling any noise that tried to make its way from me. Once he was sure I was going to be able to handle my noise level he removed his hand from my mouth placing it back onto my ass. He then started to rock into me, though his thrusts weren’t fast at first as I had assumed. His thrusts were deep but devastatingly slow.

“I hate you.” I tried to growl out with conviction to goad Spencer to start to pick up his pace. He took the bait, starting to thrust rapidly pushing me closer towards release. However, the growl I had adopted dissolved into a mere pathetic whimper making my whole body burn in embarrassment at his ability to work me up so quickly. My hands pulled at his button up to try and ground myself to stave off my release- I was going to try my hardest to not cum first.

“Sure you do Sugar.” He said breathlessly while letting go of one of my thighs to make his way back to my clit. The little circles he started to rub along with his now brutal pace made angry all over again, I was trying so hard to not release first. And, it didn’t help that he tacked on the stupid nickname at the end, no doubt trying to stoke the fire in my belly that was a infuriating mix of arousal and anger.

Though I tried with all the strength I could muster to hold off a devastating orgasm as soon as Spencer pitched his hips to hit my sweet spot my release crashed over me. I screwed my eyes shut and bit into my fist hard in an attempt to stifle any moans that tried to escape me as my release came through my body in crashing waves. My cheeks were burning hot in humiliation from my disastrous defeat.

“W-where?” Spencer almost incoherently stuttered out to me as a warning that he was getting close to his own release.

“Inside. Safe.”  I was honestly surprised I even formed a literate thought to convey to him as I came down from my devastating high. He pumped into me a few more times before falling into his own release, biting into the sliver of skin he could find beneath my disheveled blouse to quiet his own noises.

Once we had both come down completely and caught our breaths awkward silence and tension simmered in the file room. We both made no moves to break the tension as we tried to make ourselves look somewhat presentable. After I pulled my panties up and my skirt back down to its original position I decided to give Spencer back the thing he had been looking for. Leaning forward I took his tie in my hand and pulled him back towards me so we were chest to chest once more.

“Go look in the bottom drawer of my desk.” I whispered into his ear before sauntering out of the room to find a bathroom to clean up some more though, not before sparing a glance back to see a smirk etched on Spencer’s face. Even though I still hated him (Maybe hate is a strong word) I figured why not give him his coffee and sugar back as a reward for giving me one of the best orgasms of my life. Though, I was definitely still mad at myself for orgasming first. Maybe if there was a next time the roles would be reversed.

[harrywritingsbyme]

Story: y/n feels sorry for being herself. sometimes she has trouble accepting and loving herself..even tho she has no problem loving Harry, with all his flaws. he definitely helps her with that ;)

Beautiful

Anonymous Said: 11 and 20 from the prompt list

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: I got a request for 11 and 20 from the prompt list and they fit perfectly with this. I definitely wrote this with myself, my own struggles, and the struggles of the other beautiful ladies out there in mind. I also wanted to make it a lil bit deeper by incorporating some post-pregnancy y/n had Harry up in there. Also, I wanted do something real fluffy bc what I have planned for Friday is insane. Enjoy🙃

11. “Fuck you have no idea what you do to me.”

20. “Such a beautiful body, why would anyone hate it?”

You were really going through it this morning. For starters, when you woke up you were immediately drawn towards going back to sleep and recouping some of the sleep you’d lost recently. On top of that, your nipples were incredibly sore from breastfeeding and your body was still drained and recovering from giving birth three months ago. But luckily for you though, you were blessed with an amazing husband who didn’t hesitate to take care of you guys’ baby boy. You didn’t even have to ask him, as soon as he saw the exhausted and overwhelmed look on your face when you two woke up to the loud cries of your son, he immediately sprung into action and ordered you to stay in bed and take care of yourself while he tended to the baby and gave you your space. You were able to get a bit more sleep and feel way better than you did earlier on in the morning. Another hour and a half of sleep did wonders for you at this point in your life. That small window of time allowed you to feel rested enough to get up out of bed and get yourself together.

You wasted absolutely no time stripping your sleep clothes off and hopping right into the shower. The water was the perfect temperature and you just stood under it. The hot water pouring down onto your body felt absolutely amazing and you could hands down feel your stress and tension just melting away from it. You were relaxed. Even though you loved your son with your entire being and then some, it was hard. You were so grateful for Harry and you felt like you shouldn’t have any complaints at all.  But it’s just that you weren’t used to having anyone depend on you the way your son just about solely depends on you. So times like these where you were granted a little time to regroup were cherished and seized.

After a nice long shower that was filled with pampering, you turn the water off and you step out to get yourself dried off and dressed. You wrap the fluffy towel from the counter around your body and you head back into the bedroom to grab some clothes. After picking out your daily attire of a t-shirt and sweats, you station yourself on the bed to get ready. But unfortunately for you, you’d stationed yourself right in front of the full body mirror. The second you unwrap your towel from your body, the good feeling that was flowing through you vanished and was replaced with a sad and embarrassed one. This feeling hadn’t reared it’s ugly head in a good while. You hadn’t had the time since the baby was born to take a good look at yourself; and you were starting to feel like you were better off that way.

You always struggled when it came to you having a positive viewpoint of yourself, and in particular your weight. You were constantly battling against the negativity that was coming at you from almost every part of your life. You were in an uphill battle with losing weight and getting to a place where you felt comfortable all the way around. Whenever you took strides to get to that better place, you were always pulled back down. That force was the little comments from family members, people online, and yourself. Whenever you saw or heard what people had to say, you let yourself be overcome with that negativity and in turn it was harder to keep going and push forward. You felt like all your efforts were going to waste and you were never going to see results, inside and out. And at some point you just stopped loving yourself. You managed to love Harry despite his flaws but you couldn’t seem to do it for you. You pretty much gave up on loving yourself. And to make it even worse, you put all of the love inside of you that was supposed to be dedicated to yourself into loving others. The only way you got out of that enormous rut was because of Harry. He made sure to consistently and constantly reassure you that you were beautiful and worth loving. He did daily affirmations and did everything in his power to help you get back on track and work towards your goals.

And for a year you were able to have success in doing that.

After a little over a year of loving yourself, working towards your weight goal, and just feeling good, you got pregnant. When the news broke, you and Harry were over the moon. The two of you were extremely happy and in love that you both could’ve just burst from joy. You were head over heels for Harry and for yourself, and Harry was head over heels for you and the fact that you were head over heels for yourself. Everything was the way it was supposed to be and it was only getting better now that you guys were expecting a bundle of joy. Fortunately for you both, you were able to glide through your pregnancy with only minor hiccups along the way. Since you were always exhausted and you were actively changing, your solid workout and extensive selfceare routines fell by the wayside. You were so tired and just not in the mood that you couldn’t even do the low intensity workouts that your doctor said were okay. The only things you had were your mental wellbeing which was fine, and Harry. You felt bad that you weren’t keeping yourself up the way you’d been doing for the past year and you came down on yourself for it at times. But of course, Harry nipped it right in the bud and brought you back. You couldn’t imagine what you’d do without him throughout all of this.

So seeing yourself in the mirror and taking in your body now was incredibly disheartening and to you it was like a slap in the face to all the hard work you put in along with the tremendous amount of support from Harry. You fully understood that your body wouldn’t be the same after giving birth but you were hoping that it wouldn’t be as bad as it was. That is, as bad as you thought it was. Because you were constantly fighting with those negative thoughts and trying your hardest to love yourself the way you deeply love Harry, everyone else, and now your son, you tended to over exaggerate in your mind how bad something was. If you saw something you didn’t like, you didn’t like it all. And as a result of that, you spent a good amount of time standing there in front of the mirror critiquing your body and asking yourself over and over again how in the hell am I supposed to get back to normal?. You were so engrossed in overanalyzing and critiquing that you didn’t even notice Harry come back into the room.

While you were having some alone time, Harry went into full dad mode. He was able to get bubs to quiet down and let his dad take care of him. He did a quick diaper change so that bubs could be comfortable while Harry made himself something quick breakfast. He played with the baby for a while before giving him a lukewarm bath to get him cleaned up for the day, and he fed bubs, lulling the little boy right into a milk induced sleep. And hopefully, it’d stick for an hour or two so that he could spend some time with his wife. When he makes his way into the room, Harry’s feeling good. He got the baby squared away and taken care of, and his wife was taking some much needed time to herself. He knew that it was a big adjustment for you and he wanted to take as much off of you as possible because you deserved it. After your struggles in the past with your weight and loving yourself, Harry could only imagine how difficult it must be to keep yourself in a good headspace and just enjoy motherhood to the fullest without focusing on the “negatives”.

That’s why when he saw you looking at your naked body in the mirror with a downcast and almost disgusted look on your face towards your reflection, Harry knew exactly what was going on and he had to step in. You were doing so well and the last thing he wanted was for you to fall back into that deep hole of negativity that you worked so hard to get out of. He immediately makes his way over and stands right in front of you so that he’s blocking your view of the mirror. When he does this, your head still hangs low and you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him.

“I look horrible.” You whisper sorrowfully. At this, Harry extends his hands out to cup your cheeks and lift your head up to look at him.

“Baby…” He coos, seeing the saddened look in your glassy eyes. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world, you always have been. You’re even more beautiful now.”

“No I’m not. Everything is worse and I won’t be able to get back from this.” You sigh pessimistically.

“Yes it’ll take time, but you can do it and I’ll be right here by your side to help you through.” He begins, lovingly reassuring you of his full commitment to you. Harry then lets go of your cheeks and moves so that he’s behind your body and so that you can see the mirror again before wrapping his arms around your naked waist. “When I look at you, I see a badass and a strong woman. I see the woman who carried and delivered our son. I see the beautiful mother of my child. I see the woman I married three years ago. I see you Y/n, the love of my life.” He whispers, trying his hardest to hold back his own tears. Seeing you be so harsh towards yourself was not okay with him and it tore him apart. You are his rock, and to see you falling apart was causing him to break down himself.

“I just- I hate it.”

“Such a beautiful body, why would anyone hate it?” He whispers, trying to reason with you. “You’re beautiful.” He reminds pointedly. “Now say it with me.” He instructs further.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m beautiful.” The both of you say in unison repeatedly, every time Harry gives you a kiss to your neck. As this continues on, Harry couldn’t stop himself from stiffening up in his pants. The two of you hadn’t been this intimate in a good while and he missed it. He knew that you were still feeling insecure and that his purpose was to reassure you that you’re not what you’re saying you are and that he loves you so much. That’s why Harry was absolutely loving the idea of making love to you so that you could really see how amazing you are and the effect you have on him.

While his kisses and affirmations continue, Harry’s hand slowly strays away from your lower stomach. He slowly but surely makes his way down to the area between your legs, cupping you in his hand with his fingertip resting on your button between your folds. He then begins to circle his finger around your button. You hadn’t felt his fingers in a good while, and you had to admit that they felt really good against you right now. When your pants and small moans begin to hasten and you begin to enjoy him more, Harry swiftly turns you around to face him before lifting you up and lying you down on the bed. Once you’re lying on the bed, Harry quickly undresses himself  before lying on top of you.

“Fuck you have no idea what you do to me.” Harry admires, taking in all of your amazing features. He then begins to work your body, starting with your neck and working his way down. He peppers kisses all across your skin and he continues with his affirmation as he kisses down and up your body. “Wanna make you feel good, wanna make love to you. Can I baby?” Harry asks softly, bringing his lips to yours.

“Please?” You sigh needfully up to him. You really needed to feel good. When you give him this answer, Harry is quick to keep himself propped up on one hand as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance. When you feel him nudging at your hole, you reach up to pull his face down and connect your lips with his before lifting your hips up a little to give him the signal to keep going. As he pushes into you, you both keep your mouth’s against each others, moaning into one another as he enters you. It felt a bit weird, but it felt really good. You felt full and Harry was filling you. Everything was perfect.

Harry continues to slowly and deeply rock his hips into you while whispering sweet nothings into your ear through his moans and  keeping two fingers on your clit. The both of you were on cloud nine. You were being fully pleasured by Harry and he was pleasuring you and you feel special the way you deserved while receiving amazing pleasure as well. Since the both of you were a bit more sensitive due to the fact that there were so many emotions involved, you and Harry reached the edge pretty quickly. The pleasure was outstanding and you both needed to let go and fully experience it all.

“Wanna cum with me darling?” Harry coos through a moan, continuing to rock into you and rub at your clit.

“So bad.” You whine, feeling his cock hit that sweet spot deep inside you.

“I love you so much baby.” Harry grunts down to you, deeply pushing in one final time  as he begins to let go inside you.

“I love you too!” You gasping response, feeling your own release wash over your entire being. It was amazing to say the least.

“Y’so beautiful.” He says again as he rides the wave of his release. When he says this, he is subliminally signaling for you to repeat it.

“I’m beautiful.” You say softly, still feeling the major shocks of your release.

One round of loving wouldn’t do the ultimate trick in changing how you felt, but it was definitely a good place to start.

Masterlist

[interact-if]

Umm hi 👉👈 I realized that most of the asks you guys get are about games and rec lists. You guys deserve so much recognition for the work you put in this blog, so I wanted to ask if I can do a little get-to-know-the-mods thing? If that's okay!

1. Besides writing, what are your hobbies?

2. Do you have a niche interest right now?

3. Any fave songs/artists/bands?

4. Any fave movies/tv shows?

5. On a scale of 1-10, how likely would you survive in your wip's world?

You can totally ignore this if you guys want, no pressure. Anyway, much love to all the interact-if mods! You guys are incredible! ❤

We saw this ask and we went 👀 👀 👀 so we’re happy to answer! Thank you so much for the fun ask!

 We also rated our survivability in all of our collective games, since Mars isn't an author! Fun stuff! Spoilers, though: it’s really not looking so great for me (Dani) but that’s fine!!!  😌

1. I’m a photographer as well as a graphic artist (but not like. A painter/drawer kind of artist!) and, on a general level, a maker and a tinkerer!

2. Fountain pens! I only write with ink, and only with fountain pens, and I use bottled inks/converters!

3. I’m pretty eclectic with music, but my top genres are alt rock, indie, indie pop, etc, as well as top 40s and some rap.

4. I feel like this is the hardest one for me to answer? Favorite movies/shows? Avatar: the Last Airbender has been a favorite show of mine since I was a little kid, but I have a harder time thinking of shows I would call a favorite in recent years. There are shows I’ve liked, and a lot of shows I’ve watched. But I’m picky! And demanding! It takes a lot to earn a place in Dani’s Trophy Case of Favorites. 😌 I would say I quite liked A Quite Place (movie), and I liked Us (movie). When it comes to TV shows, I have a hard time being pleased with them if they don’t end well. As a result, I have a penchant for a good limited series/miniseries (because they’re stories that have an end in mind and the plot reflects that, dagnabbit).

5. Heh. Okay.

In The Goodfellows? I think I stand I chance. I can exercise my sparkling wit and lovable personality to the best effect. I’m gonna give myself an 8/10 survivability rating. Even if I don’t have the right skills, I can go crying to the person who does and they’ll save me. Maybe.

In Creatures’ Cradle? I’m super $**!%d. 😌 1/10 survivability rating. And that 1 is me being nice to myself. The day the apocalypse breaks out I would probably be patient 0. I am self-aware. I would not do well in an apocalypse. Zombies care not for aforementioned sparkling wit and lovable personality, and I have all the muscle of a boiled spaghetti noodle. So it’s a no go.

Greater Than Gods (Cruz): Well. I’m going to be optimistic. And say that I have the wisdom not to do things I shouldn’t do and not to rock boats I shouldn’t rock. I’m going to give myself a 7/10 based on insider information, but also based on reckless optimism!

Vardir (Cruz): Cruz says this is a lighthearted game, so 10/10 LOL.

When it Hungers (Roast): I’m giving myself a nice, mediocre 5/10. I think I could put my mind to work here; I joke that I’m the village idiot, but I’m actually pretty smart! Unfortunately, I’m also curious, and maybe a little bad with authorities who won’t answer my questions. So I knocked off a lot of points due to the fact that I’d probably poke the metaphorical bear. So it’s a real coin flip as to whether I’d really make it or not.

Orthall Bay (Nines): Considering the genre is “horror” and the game intro includes the words “monster” and “maim,” I’m giving myself a whooping, enthusiastic 3/10. Yes, folks, I am that confident in myself! Once again, I can’t charm the socks off a monster (or can I?), so one of my greatest weapons is snatched from beneath my feet. Alas!

1. Beloved I’m a college student in the middle of a pandemic... i can hardly even write LOL i do draw at times which u can see in my personal blog (nothing too good really) and i used to do karate before things went to shit <3

2. Nothing niche I believe? All I do is leave Netflix as bg noise every day n play popular videgames (genshin)

3. Porter Robinson <3 I love Bea Miller a lot as well but lately I’ve been feeling Porter a lot

4. The Good Place <3

5. My WIPs:

Greater than Gods: Highly situational, the world GtG is set in is as broad as the real world LOL so I don’t have an universal answer. But keeping it vague, and knowing my own personality, I feel like 5/10. depends on my luck.

Vardir: 10/10 no one dies in Vikgade, unless you’re a hunter but I wouldn’t be a hunter <3

Others’ WIPs

I'm gonna give myself a solid 5/10 in all other WIPs because y'all aren't writing lighthearted stories either. I feel like as long as I avoid the role of the MC I will be mostly fine. I hope. But as Dani said I'm also prone to fight the wrong person and dig my own grave so 😌

1. Well, writing is a very, very, very, distant hobby since Words Hard, but I like to crochet and sculpt a little! Anything to do with fiddling with my hands and I’m good to go. And like, debatable but graphic design is my passion [insert clown emoji here since Tumblr said No]

2. Oh yeah a bunch! DnD yelling at people, thinking of arson, crocheting, rock climbing and simply vibing. I got into podcasts a few years ago and I’m always looking for more recs, so if you have some, hmu 😤

3. Pls,,,,my music taste is,,,so weird do not let me expose myself with lack of consistency but uhh. Current songs that are stuck in my head include; Cult of Dionysus , Achilles Come Down and The Last Shanty  

4. If you’ve ever spoken to me before, I probably yelled about Pacific Rim to you or at you. Plus I love all The Mummy films and really enjoyed Castlevania (s3 excluded, we do not perceive that) as well! 

5. Ah, mod survival simulator pt. 3

Alright, let’s go!  I don’t have a WIP because again, words hard, but like, considering how feral I am when not tryna seem professional hm... 

The Goodfellows: I wanna say a solid 7/10 because I’d hardcore vibe with the Traveler and probably instigate so much nonsense. I can also bribe with blueberry cake so maybe. 

Creature’s Cradle: maybe a 4/10 and only because of pure spite keeping me alive long enough to smack someone. I’ve prepared for hypothetical  zombie apolcapyses and I won’t hesitate to bap, but will be bapped back because I’m weak as hell. 

Greater Than Gods: a toss up between 2/10 and 7/10! I can vibe and be chill but I also have terrible impulse control so... 

Vardir: hm....I think pretty good survival rates all around? If you ask me to fight then like, okay sure, your knees are mine. So maybe a 8/10? 

When it Hungers: .......8/10 just because I’d refuse to die if I can be a cool creature. Living for the aesthetic can and will drag me outta hell. But I’m also clumsy as hell so I’d probably crash as a porcelain or hold a rooster and perish (aka, real rating is a good 3/10) 

Orthall Bay: 2/10, nope. Nope I’d be taken out in a heartbeat. Monsters can go pspsps and I’d head straight into the dark creepy forest like a fool if someone comes @ me. Half the time I’ll just assume it’s sfx makeup and vibe until it’s too late. 

god, never put me in a universe where I cannot squawk like a bird and throw pebbles from a window. Oof

Anon, you're so sweet! I give you a forehead smoomch <333 As for your questions...

1. If I'm not writing, I'm usually watching video essays on Youtube. My go-to channels as of right now is Disrupt and Aperture! I just really like their videos. Aside from that, I recently got into podcasts. Currently going through Hello From The Hallowoods and Shelter and Warning, which are made by queer creators!

2. Oh oof, there's quite a bit so I'm just gonna put down one thing. For some reason, I really got into collecting tiny astronaut things? I recently bought this astronaut desk light, and I've got a package coming in for the miniatures I ordered. No purpose for them other than I think they're neat <3

3. I'm a bit private with my music taste (even tho I have Spotify connected on Discord lmao), but there's 5 songs that I'm currently obsessed with. I keep replaying them over and over again. Just squeezing all the serotonin I could get outta them.

4. I can't really say I have a fave TV show or movie because I can't really just pick one, but my current fave is 9-1-1 and Resident Alien. 9-1-1 because I just really love the found-family dynamics and how the show tackles sensitive topics, and Resident Alien because it's lighthearted comedy. My all-time fave movie is Flipped! I have the book too and I like rereading from time to time <3

5. You're in for a doozy, anon, because we're rating each other's games <333

The Goodfellows: 7/10

Listen. Shenanigans with the Traveler. I would get up to so many of them and that is what'll get me possibly bodied, not the actual environment itself <3

Greater than Gods: 7/10

I like to think I have enough common sense to uhhh not recklessly flip stones that should not be flipped <3 I'm a cautious and skeptic person irl so I think I'll hold up well? Then again, it's a vast environment change and while I can adapt pretty quick, I wouldn't like the lack of control in the unknown.

Vardir: 10/10

Going off what Cruz said, Vardir is lighthearted and focused on personal growth so I think I'll be okay! Self-growth here I come, babey!

Creatures' Cradle: 8/10

Maybe I'm overestimating myself, but I think I'll be able to survive in a supernatural post-apocalyptic world! Ah, but it depends on the motivation though. I like the idea of rebuilding communities and eventually societies, but the survival turmoil would be a constant battle I'd have to overcome. If we're talking survival itself though, I think I'll do well.

When it Hungers: 8/10

That's probably my wishful thinking but I think I'll be fine. Maybe. Possibly. Don't like the idea of being regulated by an organization so if I was a non-human creature that could pose a problem but I can roll with it <3

Orthall Bay: 6/10

Assuming I'm not playing as MC, my chances of survival uhhh changes quite drastically. Not enough to guarantee an untimely demise, but certainly enough that it would constantly keep me on my toes. I think that's the safest answer I can get without spoiling anything lmao

Thank you so much for asking! It's super sweet of you <3

1. Too many :'D I knit, I sew, I do carpentry (well, learning), I bake, I'm hammering away at HTML and CSS, my job kind of encourages learning new things and I take that to picking up new hobbies!

2. My time is kind of consumed with school work and work work and WIP work so not a lot of time to pursue niche interests right now. I've been watching a lot of horror game playthroughs, true crime youtubers, and an adorable show on Netflix called the Repair Shop <3

3. My taste in music is "what am I vibing with atm?" I've been listening to a lot of 80's music atm (don't @ me), but also Lo Fang and Kaleo, and whatever spotify recommends me on my discover weekly which is usually complete chaos.

4. I love the Mummy even though it hasn't aged 100% well (I'm a librarian, of course it's one of my gotos LOL), Legally Blonde, Leverage, Jumanji (the original), I'm....very bad at having recent tastes... and very bad at remembering my favorites when asked.

5.

The Goodfellows: I'm a creature of comfort, 5/10 if I can just luxuriate in town and not actually interact with the story sfjkdbsdkf

Creature’s Cradle: I'd like to think I have a 50/50 shot XD 5/10, I want to think I'd be decent at a zombie apocalypse but ultimately would suffer an early fate.

Greater Than Gods: 10/10 if I'm just vibing, less so if I'm involved in the actual story XD

Vardir: I'd still suffer without technology but I can also knit for a living in this world so I'm down 8/10

When it Hungers: I feel like I could vibe here, there's tech if dated, hot showers, telephones are around by now... might still get bored. 7/10 though it'd be cool to be another creature....I should make a 'what creature of snv are you' quiz!

Orthall Bay: 7/10 idk I feel like after the first monster of the week I'd just skip town XDDDD I'm the worst protagonist, I see danger I just leave.

[btsmosphere]

Crossfire | KTH

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Moodboard Masterlist

~summary: The night your life blew up sent you on a collision course with the campus bad boy, Kim Taehyung. Though you were well aware of his reputation, it was his doorstep you ran to when you were bleeding with nowhere to go.

~word count: 3.5k

~gang!au, mafia!au, college!au, angst, fluff, action, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers

Warnings: swearing, violence, kidnapping/being restrained (warnings apply to each part individually, please read them)

~a/n: so things heat up a bit in this chapter... I hope you guys enjoy the faster pace, it felt right to me but there are more scene cuts etc so I hope it works :) and huge thank you again to everyone reblogging my work! I see you and it really helps me out xx

Taehyung wondered if you noticed.

He knew you were often asleep long after he left, but he wondered if you remembered the times he had woken up with an arm over you, or when you had both moved closer in the night, or the way he would let his sleepy eyes wander your face before he decided to face the world.

Or maybe it was all lost in the haze of sleep for you, belonging only under the covers and in the dark.

He wondered if you ever heard his singing again. Whenever he sang in the mornings, though he had always enjoyed doing it for himself, he thought of you. He hoped you were listening.

After the excitement of hitting the jackpot with Soonjae, you spent your days with Tae’s books again. You had served your purpose, assured by him that they didn’t need more than one inner member for the time being. You doubted you would have found anything on the last member of the list, ‘Jintao’, anyway.

Days and books passed. So did nights with Tae.

It became clear to you that his way of expressing himself was quite physical. Though you enjoyed his touch, and initiated it yourself, you knew that to him, it was just the way he was with friends. Nothing more.

But it didn’t matter to you, as you enjoyed yourself in his company anyway.

Another meeting was called. This time it was much more fruitful, and a date was set. Since the last one, members they had already gathered from Shinhyuk’s gang had been able to pass on information to root out more members, and so on.

As Jin confirmed that Soonjae had successfully been bought out with a healthy mix of blackmail and promises of freedom, you glowed. The boys weren’t shy to thank you as well, even though they had doubted you at first.

Jungkook had found out about a deal Shinhyuk himself would be present at, though Jungkook was not required. And they were using the shop Shinhyuk had gained after his earlier attack, so he would be in the middle of their territory and at their mercy.

This was their chance to turn the tables on their enemy.

The idea was to capture Shinhyuk at the deal, and with him gone, the rest of the gang would be ready to fall apart. Their allies could move in, easily taking the area Shinhyuk had dominated for so long.

During the subsequent movie night, you and Tae shared a private toast with plastic cups of coke. To your hard work, though you insisted he share some of the credit.

As you chucked away the litter in the kitchen that night, out of breath after just a minute, you rediscovered your pack of red pills. You certainly hadn’t been taking them consistently.

That night, the rare occasion came when you could not get to sleep. Lying in the dark, you gazed over at Tae, just a lump under the duvet as he slept. You had shared in the excitement and hopefulness with the others earlier, but now you couldn’t help thinking-

What would happen when it was all over?

If they succeeded, and you could go back home, what would happen to you?

Last time you had interacted with Tae, and it certainly couldn’t be classed as more than that, you had gone straight back to normal afterwards. He had been charming, and of course he was attractive, but it had been easy for you to stay away, knowing his friends and their reputation.

Or at least you thought you had known.

Now you had met them all, shared takeaways and movie nights, and you and Tae had shared far more. You couldn’t forget about it. You wouldn’t want to.

“Are you excited?”

Pressing your lips into a smile, you gave Taehyung a nod. Not the most enthusiastic of responses.

Today was the day.

That evening, if everything went according to plan, Shinhyuk would lose everything, and you would be free. You could see your dad again. Go back to your place.

It wasn’t that you weren’t excited, but the excitement was swamped by everything else you were feeling.

“Hey, it’s gonna be ok,” Taehyung took your silence as denial and shuffled closer to you where you were reading a book against the headboard, eventually laying his head on your shoulder. And though it thrilled you, you stiffened. Trying your hardest not to react, you stared down at your book without absorbing any words.

Tae had opted to stay home from college today, even though the raid was to be in the evening.

Together you had made a ‘fancy’ lunch of pancakes, watched a short film and now you were anticipating the hour when he would have to go. Today had felt too full of goodbyes. You knew, however, that there was still one more to come, when he would leave to fight once and for all.

“You’ll get to go back home!” he attempted again to lighten the mood, but his words only made your heart heavier.

Sighing, you put your book aside, tilting your head to lean on top of his.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I see my dad.”

“Trust me, you’ll be happy when you see him again.”

“You’re right,” you sighed again, “I just… he got us into this whole mess – not that I don’t understand why.”

Taehyung considered you for a second.

“Not everything was his fault. He just did it because he loves you. He wants the best for you.”

“Why are you right about everything?” you laughed, making your shoulders shake and dislodging Tae’s head from its spot.

Sitting up fully again, he shoved your shoulder gently in retaliation. There he stayed, face slightly obscured as he sat forward while you rested back.

After a moment of silence, his impatient hands flipped his phone over.

“The others are setting off,” he informed you. You had learned that the eldest four were going to lie in wait, Taehyung and Jimin going in later as backup. Jungkook was at one of Shinhyuk’s other bases, known simply as ‘angel’, out of suspicion’s reach.

Taehyung didn’t have long.

“Do you think…” he started, voice low and quiet, “do you ever think that even though everything that happened, with your dad, though it was messed up… maybe something good came out of it?”

You stared at the back of his head.

“I wouldn’t have met all of you guys otherwise,” you admitted, “it’s been fun with you.”

Nodding, Taehyung finally turned, positioning himself in front of you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw him look down, taking a deep breath.

“You know, when we had that project together, it was never more than a crush,” his eyes came to meet yours and your heart thudded in your chest. He was so close to you, watching you intently, “but, Y/N, I really like you. And it’s not good, what happened, but I’m glad you came to my door that night. And I know I’m going to miss you after all this so I had to say something, maybe I’m crazy but-“

“You’re not crazy,” you finally found your voice after staring in awe at the boy, at the words coming out of his mouth, “I-I feel the same. I want this to be all over with Shinhyuk, but I don’t want to stop seeing you. I don’t want to go.”

You were sure the look in his eyes was mirrored in your own.

Shakily, he exhaled.

The two of you were so close now, the air around you static, holding its breath as you leaned forwards, closing the distance.

Until your lips met, you hadn’t known how much you wanted it. Taehyung’s hand came up to cup your jaw softly, the other travelling to your waist as you savoured the kiss, blissfully sweet but filled with longing.

Chasing more bliss, you tilted your head, transforming the kiss from something gentle to something more, and all too soon it was over, leaving you both panting, foreheads resting together, breathless smiles on your faces. Returning the gaze from Tae’s dark eyes, you looked back with just as much awe.

His eyes dropped once more to your lips. Your own parted in anticipation as you watched him dart his tongue out subconsciously.

Then his phone buzzed.

You both hesitated, but pulled back. Today of all days, you were aware the messages would be important. As he reached across the bed for the phone, his hand enveloped yours, happy now he could finally hold it when he wanted.

The screen lit up, showing only two words from Jungkook.

Code Black

One of Hoseok’s hands rested on the wheel. The car was engulfed in shadow, the four boys silent as they watched their target across the street.

Before, it had looked unassuming, just another local business in the row of shops crammed together. Now, the sign had been ripped down, leaving a gap in the otherwise continuous row of neon and paint that made up the front of other businesses. Both front windows were shattered, painting spiderwebs over the black canvas of the dark interior.

Tonight the road wasn’t busy. It was easy to spot as the car pulled up outside, two men in suits leaving it and entering the shop.

“They’re early,” Jin muttered, but they prepared anyway.

The deal would be over quickly, Shinhyuk just coming to pick up and inspect his new haul of weapons.

Sticking to the shadows, Yoongi led the way, easily blending in with the streets in his slouchy black clothes. Hoseok tapped his foot as he watched his friends leave one by one.

The men inside jumped when Yoongi threw the door open, holding his glock confidently in front of him. Namjoon and Jin flanked him, pulling out their guns as well, leaving the two men outnumbered, one behind the counter of the shop where the package was due to be, the other’s hand flying instantly to the holster on his belt.

For a moment, the only sound was a car starting up outside.

Then the second man turned around, gun raised, and fired. Yoongi ducked, running forward at a crouch as the glass door behind him shattered, two more shots going off as the other suited man fired and Namjoon retaliated.

Another shot flew past his shoulder as Yoongi dived over the counter, tackling his opponent, quickly handing him a fist to the face, hand fisting his collar.

From the other side of the shop came the grunting of the others as Namjoon and Jin took the first man down. In the struggle, he started yelling.

“Backup! Backup!”

Jin ripped an earpiece from the man’s ear, tossing it across the room.

Once they had both of them under control, Jin pressing the face of the man that had shouted into a table, arm in a lock behind his back, Yoongi pinning the other down with his gun lying uselessly in the middle of the shop floor, Namjoon strode to the counter.

“Where is Shinhyuk?” he demanded, looking between both men, neither of which were the intended target.

Not a word came in reply.

Maintaining his composure while the other two looked between each other in panic, Namjoon reached across the counter to lift up the large duffel bag that lay there. He frowned.

Placing it on the top, it made no sound, and pulling open the zip revealed the bag to be full of rolled up newspapers.

“What is this?” Namjoon’s fury bled through his words as he rummaged in the bag, coming up empty handed. A few balls of newspaper rolled onto the floor, but no one else dared move.

Looking at the man below him, Yoongi found he looked as dumbfounded as the rest of them.

“Where are the weapons?” he shook the guy, glaring at him until a reply left his lips.

“I-I don’t know, Shin said we had to come and pick them up-”

The buzzing of a phone sounded, and Namjoon pulled his out.

Code Black

He whirled around, but no one was to be seen outside. Only their own car.

Jin stepped back, releasing his captive.

“What is it?” he asked Namjoon.

“Jungkook. It’s a trap,” the blond ran a hand through his hair as he looked around the space in panic. They were in a dead end.

Yoongi was standing too now, and followed his leader in a heartbeat when he moved to the door.

“Where the fuck’s our car?” one of the men spoke behind them.

“’E’s left us,” the other responded in shock, “no one’s coming.”

Turning, Yoongi found them both standing, lost, staring at the empty road outside and the fake bag of ammo.

“You should get out of here,” he warned, stepping into the night.

“Bring him in.”

Shinhyuk had turned off his screen the moment he saw bangtan approaching the shop. He had sent disposable men; whatever happened to them now didn’t concern him. Catching the rat did.

Now, he strolled into the room where Jungkook was held.

“Well played, Jeon,” he snarled, “Very subtle.”

The boy glared back at him with ice in his eyes.

“I know you stole the file,” he continued, then to the guards flanking him, “search him.”

Struggling against his bonds didn’t help, but Shinhyuk’s smirking face had riled Jungkook up enough that he didn’t care about the metal digging into his skin. He didn’t know where his friends were. He had only had time to send out that one message as the guards had come barging in to get him.

At least he could take pride in the amount it had taken to get him under control. There were several nursing wounds upstairs as they spoke.

As rough hands patted at him, pulling his clothes and making their way into his pockets, Shinhyuk kept talking.

“I had my suspicions, Jeon. You proved them today. You were the only one I told about the deal, the perfect opportunity for bangtan to try and make a move, but it was just a fairy tale,” his lips curled up into a wolfish smile, “there were never any weapons. There was never any deal.”

He looked on, chuckling, as the search concluded, but the result pulled the smile right of his face.

“No file?” Jungkook took his turn to smirk.

“I know you’re the rat, boy,” Shinhyuk advanced, pushing his face right into Jungkook’s space, “but if you aren’t, how will your pretty friends know where to find you?”

Jungkook’s blood ran cold.

He was the bait.

Shinhyuk’s laughter rang out through the room, haunting him even after the man had slammed the door behind him, leaving Jungkook struggling against his bonds alone in the cell.

“Code black – Jungkook’s been found out,” Namjoon began addressing the tense boys gathered in his front room.

“They’re holding him at angel,” Taehyung added. He clutched his phone with white knuckles, having just been using it to speak to the leader of that specific base, the first rival that had defected to their side.

“Right, we can easily get in there and get him back,” Jin spoke remarkably calmly.

“Not so easy, actually,” Tae’s voice was dark, “Shinhyuk’s there too now. He’s waiting for us to come in.”

Every one of them was sitting forward in their seats, wracking their brains for a next move after they had been played and taken off-guard. Jimin lowered his head, running both hands through his hair.

“What if we turn up in one of Shinhyuk’s cars?” Hoseok suggested, “we can call on some of the drivers.”

“You’re right,” Namjoon nodded, “we still have the element of surprise on our side. He doesn’t know we’ve infiltrated him.”

“But let’s just get in, get Jungkook, and go,” Jimin said.

“Right,” Namjoon agreed, “today doesn’t have to be our victory anymore. Let’s just get Jungkook back and safely.”

Together, they stood, filing out of the room in silence.

You couldn’t stop reliving your kiss with Taehyung all evening. He had been gone a while, leaving in seconds after he checked his phone, hurriedly telling you something had come up.

Worried though you were, you knew all you could do was wait. It wasn’t easy trying to stay patient after you and Taehyung had finally confessed to each other, and you wanted nothing more than to continue where you left off.

Equally, your mind wouldn’t stop running through all the worst case scenarios. How would you know if something bad happened to him?

Trying your best to preoccupy yourself, you read for a bit longer, pushing away the nerves over what could be happening out there right now. Every time your mind drifted from the page in front of you, you told yourself there was nothing you could do. The plan was a good one, and now all the boys had to do was pull it off.

Somehow that didn’t help.

As darkness fell, you quietly made your way downstairs, closing the curtains while staying out of sight. You didn’t even turn the living room light on.

Already you were a little out of breath, so you stopped and rested on the arm of the sofa.

That was when someone knocked on the door.

Turning towards the sound, you started walking, but stopped yourself only feet away from the front door. Tae’s friends sometimes knocked, but they all had their own key too.

A second knock sounded, louder this time.

Frozen on the spot, you debated with yourself. Who on earth could it be? Maybe something had happened to Tae, and they were here to tell you…

The banging resumed, this time with a shout.

“Y/N?”

You gasped. That wasn’t one of the boys, but it sounded a lot like-

“Jake?” you muttered under your breath, approaching the door to look through the peephole.

Sure enough, there was your college friend on the step. He was looking down at something you couldn’t see, but it was him alright.

Cautiously, you lifted your hand to the catch and opened the door a crack.

“Jake?”

His hands flew behind his back, making you frown at him.

“Y/N…” he pushed at the door, which you let fall open just a little bit more, “I can’t believe I’ve found you, it’s all gonna be okay, yeah? We’ve been looking for you for so long…”

“Oh, Jake, I’m sorry…” you shuffled in the doorway. He was standing close to you, eager to be let in, but you stood your ground, “I couldn’t get in touch, but I promise I’m fine I just-“

“Y/N, you aren’t thinking straight,” he pushed forward again.

This time you weren’t strong enough to stop the door opening. You stepped hurriedly away from him as he crossed the threshold. You wanted to sit down again, but you didn’t feel comfortable with Jake in the house.

“We were so worried at college Y/N, and so is your dad” he begged, holding his hands out, “let’s just get you home, okay?”

Frowning back at him, you didn’t move, so after a second he walked closer instead, driving you further down the hallway.

“Jake, please leave,” you told him.

What he was saying didn’t make sense. Your dad was under Shinhyuk now, your college friends couldn’t have possibly contacted him-

“Let’s go home, Y/N,” he said.

But you knew your ‘home’ wasn’t safe anymore. Your eyes darted to the open door behind him, wondering if you could run. Then you saw something.

Two long metal pins were jammed into the lock at the front of the house. He had been trying to break in.

All you knew when you started running was that you weren’t going with Jake. Rushing through the kitchen door and slamming it hard in his face, you dashed out of the side door, straight onto a small alley between two houses. Not letting your feet stop, you ran as fast as you could, away from the main street and further into unfamiliar paths.

Behind you, the door slammed as Jake gave chase, but instead of calling out to you, he shouted, “this way!”

Then more footsteps joined him.

Blood whooshed through your ears, chest constricting after only a couple of corners, but your pursuers gave no sign of letting up. The stab wound seared in your side, and for a moment your vision went white. It was only a split second, but you knew you were in trouble.

Not now, not now…

You willed your legs to keep going. You had to get away.

Then the bang of a gunshot deafened your ears and you ducked blindly, stumbling forwards before picking up the pace again.

One more shot hit the wall by your ear, making you flinch away.

Sparks were filling your vision, and you could barely breathe, but you pushed yourself, knowing danger lay behind. Your eyes screwed shut against the pain as you forced yourself to run, when a bang sounded, followed by a new, burning pain slicing through your shoulder.

You were unconscious before you hit the asphalt.

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[fenristheorem]

Lance finding out that Gardienne killed herself? After a while of her being in the HQ again, he has fallen in love with her. She just couldn't bear those seven years, having lost that many people and being here just to save this world by suffering.

He wanted to tell her he loved her, he knocked her door, he worried bc no one answered, and he finds her hanged up.

I know this is really specific, it's just kind of my OC ending😅😅 anyway, I'd understand if you weren't comfortable with this.

So I’m going to talk about the boundaries of what I write for a moment, starting by saying that I will write this BUT I won’t write detailed suicide scenes due to the sensitive nature of it.

This ask isn’t asking for a detailed scene, it’s asking for the effects the decision has on Lance, and because it’s asking for the long-term effects and not a scenario I’m just fine with writing this. 

Thank you for asking this, Anon, genuinely. Being this specific was probably what gave me the push to write this in the end because I know you were looking for the reaction and not the actual scene. This is a good example of a post that walks along the lines of what I will and won’t write so anyone requesting future asks with a similar subject gets a better idea of what to ask.

Also, I apologize for how long this took to write. This ask was, unfortunately, the one that spent the most time eaten in my drafts folder so I couldn’t work on it until about a week ago. Fortunately that gave me a lot of time to think over how to best write this, so I think this’ll be appropriately written considering the subject.

*Warning / Note: This post contains heavy depressive themes and suicidal mentions, as evident by the ask and what I wrote above. I’m aware that this is a very sensitive subject and I intend to treat it with appropriate seriousness. This is not a happy post, please only read this if you know this won’t lead you down a dark path. To me, writing is another form of art, meant to express and draw out emotions from the audience, so I won’t subside the intensity of my writing even with this being a sensitive subject. I don’t intend to drive anyone to harm themselves, but I do intend to write with the intensity that I always do because this is my artform; so please prepare for heavy themes or don’t read if you’re not comfortable with this. On a side note: I care about everyone, I really do, so please take care of yourselves. If you’re feeling depressive or suicidal, talk to someone, please. There is always someone who cares about you.

Technically Guardienne's death may have a major adverse effect on Eldarya due to her link with the crystal, but for the sake of this ask I'll ignore any possible effects like that.

~Under the cut~

Lance’s reaction to Guardienne’s suicide:

Lance had seen a lot of terrible things in life and had done many terrible things in his life, but this reached a new type of fucked up for him. Not because it's truly disturbing - although it is deeply disturbing - but because it fucked him up even more in a way that he neither thought could be possible nor that he could bear.

He’s convinced that he’s cursed; everything that’s happened to him has been his fault. He started the war within Eldarya, destroyed so many faeries’ lives, killed his own brother, and now the woman he loved is dead because of him as well. Sure, he wasn’t the one to tie the rope around her neck, but there are signs for these sorts of things. Was he truly that blind that he couldn’t see that she was in pain? Did he ever truly love her if he couldn’t see the pain? Would she have done anything differently if he wasn’t there to constantly remind her of everything that was lost?

Lance believes he deserves this. He’s caused so much pain and agony for everyone, it only makes sense that he should be the one in pain now. Lance won’t try to fight the agony he’s in, he’ll let himself drown in it for nights on end to wake up - or not even sleep to begin with - feeling exhausted, reckless, irritated and - overall - worthless. He’s sure to emerge from his room in the morning without the slightest hint that he’s been sobbing quietly with the feeling of a dagger twisting itself over and over within his chest all night, and he’ll refuse to answer any questions about if he’s alright after the recent events. He was the one to find her after all; it would make sense that he was hit the hardest...

In the daytime he’ll be rough and withholding, keeping the Obsidian guard in a tight hold to reflect how he needs to hold himself tightly to keep from falling apart. It’s one thing for him feel and express emotions, but this feeling is an entirely different thing; this is something that should not be released into Eldarya. He realizes it and knows that this feeling - something that he recognizes all too well from his past - threatens to destroy everything that he worked so hard to gain in the past seven years.

Mathieu will notice Lance’s change in temperament immediately, and being the kind man he is he’ll want to be there for the dragon, but Lance won’t be looking for comfort; he’ll be looking for something that will change the past and take back everything that happened. But that’s impossible - he knows that - and so he’ll be stuck in a state of limbo, deemed to mourn for his unknown, unrealized love until... something happens to change him.

Ice cold fear will wash over him some days as he recognizes the familiar feeling that haunted him in the past, and while he’ll be aching to reach out to lean on someone for support - afraid of this feeling overwhelming him again - he’ll feel that he can’t lean on anyone. He doesn’t deserve that support at this point after all he’s done, and there’s so many others who are busy grieving; the guard needs him to be strong now. However, on occasion - when he has a clear mind - he’ll grieve gently with someone who’s somewhat close to him, sharing kind memories of Guardienne and gently advising them to spend time around friends if his co-worker feels it’s needed. He’ll never completely break in front of anyone though, he can’t bring himself to. 

However, Lance falls apart immediately when he’s alone, sometimes even lingering in the conference room for a few minutes after a meeting to allow himself the private time alone to recollect himself. Grief will randomly hit him throughout the day, constricting his throat, burning his chest, and glassing over his eyes - and every time he’ll excuse himself from his company to isolate himself until he regains control again. This, of course, is taken into notice by a few others around the guard, and slowly there’ll be people who realize that Lance is not fine.

This becomes a further issue over time as his grief slowly turns into anger and disgust, and this is when that familiar, ominous feeling from his past really rears it’s ugly face. He should have seen something. Was he really that terrible to her that she felt she couldn’t trust him? Was everyone really that blind to not see her hurting?

Lance finds that he begins to choose to isolate himself, mentally and physically. He’ll leave the guards members alone that have stated they need time off, but he won’t be very forgiving with those who have chosen to continue their work but seem to be slacking. His mentality is that if you can’t handle continuing on, then don’t offer your service as it’ll become a hindrance, and this quickly becomes a major issue.

Huang Hua - knowing how important Guardienne was to Eldarya, and the guard especially - has let it be known that if anyone needs a break from their responsibilities, then it’ll be allowed, but she will stress that those who feel they can continue to function please try to do so, and be lenient and take on a few responsibilities that aren’t usually asked of them if they feel they can. She can read other’s auras and sense intentions and emotions of sorts, so she can generally get a good read on how someone is doing, but she can’t consistently do that with everyone, so while she’ll use this ability when necessary to enforce that someone take a break so they don’t fall apart, not every unstable case is known to her. This is the main reason why she slightly overlooks Lance for a while. When he first found Guardienne, he panicked immediately, rushing her to Ewelein and not even truly believing her death until many days after the event. Huang Hua - having sensed his shock and panic blocking out any other emotions - let it go for a few days; everyone goes through their own grieving process, some immediately and some not until many years afterwards. There was nothing that anyone could do for him until Guardienne’s death hit him fully. However, she also knew from her abilities that Lance was in love with her, or at very least had a deep liking for Guardienne, so the instant a few members of the guard come to her expressing serious concerns regarding Lance’s recent aggression and distance, Huang Hua knows immediately that it needs to be dealt with. This grief was an unknown factor in Lance’s new life - but his past with this type of grief shows clearly that this can really fuck him up - so it needed to be discussed, otherwise he risks spiraling back into the same place he was seven years ago.

She’ll approach him when he’s alone, or if they’re in a relatively public space she’ll take him somewhere private, sensing all the while the breathtakingly painful feeling of agony, anger and distress that’s clouding his mentality. It was just the same as when he was Ashkore, how did he not yet break? He’ll refuse to follow her if he knows she wants to talk about his emotions - ironic since he’s always been open to sharing his perspective and thoughts - so she’ll just tell him that she needs to talk to him in private regarding a few anonymous tips from some guards members if he happens to ask why.

Being alone with an unstable, emotionally distraught dragon with a history of violence while under heavy states of grief does unsettle her a bit, but she knows the outcome of this will be much worse if he truly feels isolated. He’s not going to reach out for help by himself - he doesn’t know how to, nor does he probably want to - so she needs to be the one to reach out to him and help him stabilize himself before another situation like Valkyon’s death occurrs.

She’ll consider first talking alone with him in his room - where he’d likely feel most comfortable - but considering he’d likely be defensive, that could then translate into aggression in his own territory, and that may lead her to being forced out of his room for her own safety. Lance has certainly changed in temperament, but heavy grieving emotions can blind someone, so there’s really no promising that nothing... destructive may happen, no matter how much he’s changed in patience.

She then considers talking with him in the conference room, but there isn’t a whole lot of privacy there. The conference room is more for business, rather than personal, private, emotional conversations. The last thing Lance needed in this moment was for his emotions to be treated even slightly like a business confrontation and not as an important part of his being. Frankly, even on a day where he’s feeling just fine he would never accept anyone’s emotions to be treated like a business issue, so the last thing she wanted was to imply that by bringing him into a room that could do just that.

Huang Hua then thinks over the idea of talking to him in her room; it would likely be safer, after all. He probably won’t become territorial or aggressive as it’s not his territory, and it’ll be a gentle reminder that she’s happy to welcome him into her personal life to help comfort him (therefore defeating the concern that it could seem like a business confrontation), but since it’s her territory he might emotionally shut himself down. It can be uncomfortable to fall apart in someone else’s room, especially knowing they’re higher ranking and could be interrupted at any moment to deal with something else...

Then she wonders if she should bring him outside of the guard to speak with him - somewhere that’s private and on neutral ground. That way they’d both be in strange territory and may not be interrupted, and if they are they’d receive prior warning by noticing that someone was walking their way.

Of course, Huang Hua then realizes that - no matter how much she’d like to think that she understands what would make Lance most comfortable - she truly doesn’t know what would help him best, but she can be there to provide support at very least, regardless of where they are. At the end of the day, Lance would probably know where he’d feel most comfortable, so when she approaches him to talk, saying that it’s an important but private conversation, she’ll ask him where he would rather talk. He’ll be slightly hostile, especially when he picks up on the fact that she’s going out of her way to word things carefully and prioritize his comfort, but he’ll decide to talk somewhere private outside the guard, where no one is around.

And that’s how Huang Hua finds herself in the middle of the open plains, far away from the guard to talk to a dragon who might as well be stabbing himself with his own dagger with how he’s been allowing himself to feel as of late. She’ll start off gently, telling him the recent concerns of a few anonymous guard’s members and Lance will stand a few feet away and listen coldly with a blank expression until she suggests that he take a few days off. He’ll debate things with her then, and it’ll escalate slowly until Lance is clearly distressed but still unmoving in his decision to remain active, and Huang Hua will know then that she can’t be gentle anymore...

“Lance, take a few days off, for your sake.”

“No.” His tone is harsh and cold as he snaps at her. “The guard needs me, there’s so much I need to do - so much I need to repay-” He didn’t mean to let that last statement slip - after all, his actions certainly couldn’t be made up for, right? - but emotions can be a powerful thing, can’t they?

“You won’t be able to do any of that if you’re destroying everything you’ve helped rebuild in the process.” Lance is pacing, keeping his eyes trained to the ground. Huang Hua - despite her anxiousness at the dragon being so stubborn on decisions made under heavy negative emotions - tries to keep a comforting, open atmosphere to avoid furthering any issues. “You know the pain you’ve cast upon on others, you’ve felt that same sort of pain now and you need to take time to be able to recover from that.”

“I can’t take time, it’s not something I can just accept! Everyone I’ve hurt before never had time to accept the situation before I made it worse, but they still pushed forward! There’s no reason for me to have it any easier!”

“And where would we be if we treated you the same way you used to treat the world? Would we be any better than how you used to be?”

Lance stops pacing but his eyes remain on the ground, his throat constricting as his thoughts run rampant. Would they be the same as how he used to be if they allowed him to keep running himself this way? He’s done terrible things, but he’s spent many years trying to keep that from happening again. Certainly he’s an asset to the guard now, so would it be cruel of them to ignore his distress? Or would it be justified payback for everything he’s done?

“Lance, you’ve done wonderful things the past seven years, and we want you to continue that and I know you want to continue that as well. Take some time off so you can do that without destroying yourself or your environment. Don’t ignore your pain like it’s nothing - it’s not nothing, and you have the resources to deal with it in a better way now. Use those resources, Lance, it’ll help you work your way through this.” Huang Hua’s tone is gentle and soft as she pleads with him, hoping that her blunt words will reach his common sense.

He tries to argue this, stuttering the beginning of sentences to try and disprove her point, grasping for any reason as to why his pain is invalid. However, Lance finds that there’s no sound argument against Huang Hua’s words, and constricting panic, horror, and then heavy tides of grief will hit him as he realizes that he is, in fact, dragging himself into his own downfall. He is his own worst enemy, once again.

In any manner, this is all his fault - his past actions, Guardienne’s distress of what’s changed that lead to her death, his emotional isolation, and disruption of the guard is all because he doesn’t know how to deal with himself and his abyss of emotions. How did this happen to him? He was never the type of person to deny and hide away his emotions, so how is it he ended up caging himself like this when under personal grief? Is it because the situation is so personal to him that he has a hard time allowing himself to seek comfort in others who likely couldn’t understand?

Lance will fall apart at this, closing his eyes and turning towards the ground to keep himself together, but falling apart all the same as grief overwhelms him one final time in a push that throws him over the edge. He’ll clench his fist and bow his head, bringing it over his mouth as he desperately tries to steady his breathing, to no avail as tears find their way from his eyes and his chest heaves in quieted sobs. 

Huang Hua will lurch forward to comfort him, but stops as Lance whirls around to step back and snap at her - he didn’t want comfort, he wanted her back!

“Where were you for her!? Why didn’t anyone else see her pain!?” His eyes are tragedy and desperation underneath the weakened cold anger of ice blue, a faint few tears streaking down his face as his voice - thunderous and howling - cracks and breaks alongside his crumbling rage. If he couldn’t have fixed this, then someone else could have - why didn’t anyone fix this!?

“You know it’s not morally correct to monitor everyone’s private emotions all the time. What kind of leader would I be if I didn’t allow my people their privacy?” Huang Hua stills and clasps her hands together at her waist, understanding Lance’s outward anger. However, she realized his statement signaled something else as well; Lance could no longer fight why he should allow himself to grieve, so he was desperately clinging onto some semblance of needing to be distant by turning it to be someone’s fault - someone that he could hate.  “You are right in a way; of the many people who knew her, someone might have been able to catch how torn up she felt, but people who wish to hide their pain, or spend so long hiding their pain that it becomes a part of who they are, learn how to hide their pain in ways too complex for others to realize. And, Lance, if she didn’t want anyone to know about her grief, there wouldn’t have been much that I could have done anyways.”

“You could have helped her!” The dragon’s voice was weakening as he spoke, distant anger being replaced by a cold, hollow emptiness as he realized the truth in Huang Hua’s words.

“Only if she was ready for that help. You can’t force someone to accept help, you can only wait for them to allow themselves to be helped.”

“She wouldn’t want me to find relief during this time...” He looked away toward the ground and hung his head, blinking rapidly as he began to heave for breath. There must be a reason why he shouldn’t be allowed to feel this way .

“Do you think she would have wanted everything good you did - whether she knows what you did or not - to be destroyed because of your grief for her?” Lance’s eyes squinted closed and he tilted his head a bit further away from the phoenix. It seemed as though every reminder of everything good he’s done continues to leave him with a hollow chest. “I think if she witnessed firsthand everything you’ve done the past seven years she would have thought very differently about you now than what she did when first having woken up from the crystal.”

Lance turns to face his back towards her, resting a palm on his forehead before brushing his fingers back through his hair as a tremble rolls through him. He could feel pressure rising from his throat as he bared his teeth in an agonized snarl before parting his mouth to silently gasp for air. His head tilted back to look at the sky, only for a few tears to fall from his eyes when he releases a shaky breath.

“Lance, your situation with her was very unique - no one else could begin to understand exactly what you’re feeling from your history with her. Take some time so you can understand it - and fix, or do, or feel whatever you need to - so you can carry forward knowing yourself better.”

He wanted to fight her statement, but his moral compass argued with his resistance on this as well. If anything, of whatever terrible things came as a result of her death, there should be some good sought from it as well. What’s the point of accepting a tragedy if not to learn something from it as well, even if it’s something quiet that no one else knows you learned?

For the first time in a long while - if not ever - Lance allows himself to break and be comforted. He lets himself embrace the burning, stinging pain that rises in his chest as he turns his head back to the ground and collapses on his knees. Huang Hua immediately reacts and is by his side in moments, on her knees and laying a gentle hand on his shoulder as she leans against him slightly. Sobs escape his throat as his body tenses and curls forward slightly, bracing a hand on the ground to steady himself as tremulous waves of emotions - any and all emotions that could possibly be named - wash over him and leave him gasping for air.

“I miss her, too.” Huang Hua’s voice shakes now as she leans further against the dragon, bringing her arms as far around him as she can while her head rests against his shoulder, away from the spines on his pauldrons. Lance brings his other hand up and tightly grasps the forearm reaching across his chest.

Huang Hua had spent so much time trying to help others through this that she had completely forgotten to make sure she was alright as well, and seeing Lance - the man she least expected to be torn apart by this situation - completely break and fall apart before her eyes reminded her of the true depth of their loss. They didn’t just lose Eldarya’s savior, they had lost a friend, a great warrior, one of the last angels, someone who was pure at heart and wasn’t afraid to face the darkness of life without so much as a blink of hesitation. They had lost someone who gave everything for the world, and suffered because of it.

Minutes merged until they were unsure of how long they spent in the fields, but in time both of them calmed down. Lance - now able to think clearer on the subject - began to reflect on the situation.

“This wasn’t her fault... the blame is on all of us, for not having seen anything... but she must have known that someone would have been there for her if they knew how much she was hurting...” He murmured this quietly, waves of shame washing over him again as he realized he was perhaps pinning some of the blame on Guardienne. Was there really anyone to blame here? She must have known that someone would have been there for her if she sought help, but it’s not right for others to pry into the personal life of another if the intrusion is unwelcomed, and who was to say she wanted help in the first place? Had she given up? Would anyone have been able to stop her to begin with? Who was to blame, if there was anyone?

“There’s nothing we can do now except honor her and move forward.” Huang Hua whispered back with a shaky voice and Lance faintly nodded his head. There were many things that worked together to lead to this happening, and in between there also were moments where something could have helped deter it, both by her doing and by others. At the root core, everyone and anyone could have helped stop this in some way, even if it was by giving her a small passing smile that could have helped remind her that there is good and hope in the world, but there’s also no guarantee that anyone could have stopped it. Regardless, this is how things happened. They can’t change the past, but they can move forward with her in mind and learn from this.

Lance - despite his heavy grief and complex emotions on everything - begins to soften himself to the situation. He’s not the only one grieving. His situation may have been the most complicated, but he’s still in the same boat as everyone else. He doesn’t feel the need to sob alongside the others anymore, but he does find that whenever the group he’s in begins to fall apart into wailing, he’ll bow his head and won’t hide the obvious pain that he’s in at the reminder of his lost love. His feelings for Guardienne will be kept quiet, and he won’t openly say how he felt about her - it could still be seen as wrong in the opinion of some people for him to have fallen in love with the same woman he hurt so much, especially knowing her pain is what led to her death - but he won’t deny the truth of his feelings to those who caught on somehow. Lance will find that he’ll slowly begin to mend after this death, many months after of course, but it’ll happen, and in some ways this will help him move past his brother’s death as well. After all, in the end both Guardienne and Valkyon came to accept their final moments in life before allowing Lance’s past actions to bring about their end, and although one chose to die to help mend him and the other chose to die to help relieve herself, the root issue of the situation that led to their death was still very similar. He’ll have a hard time allowing himself to move past the fact that his actions played a major part in both deaths, but he realizes in time that that’s what happens when someone has a violent past. It’ll haunt for many years, and the effects of it can never be reversed, but in the end this only inspires him to work harder to provide a better world. Maybe he can’t erase what he did, but he can make sure it doesn’t happen again and work to provide Eldarya with as much good as he can provide now.

Without a doubt Guardienne’s death hits him hard, but he’ll be sure to come back twice as strong from this.

I hope you like this, Anon! I feel Guardienne’s suicide would definitely hit Lance hard and remind him subtly of Valkyon’s death, but I don’t see Lance being held down by this for too long. He’d heavily grieve for her for a good while before he eventually finds himself standing on two feet again and powering his way through life, if not for his own sake then for the sake of others, both alive and dead. 

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[happyandticklish]

Don’t Ignore Me

Notes: For the ask by @dirtpie39, based off this comic. 

Summary: Izaya’s been avoiding Shizuo ever since the blond made a certain discovery about him, and chaos quickly ensues. 

Izaya was ignoring him.

It took Shizuo a couple fight-free days for him to realize it. After all, it wasn’t exactly like he was tracking the flea’s movements. Still, the city was small and drama was big, so it wasn’t unusual for the two to run into each other on a near daily basis. Usually this resulted in a full-blown fight or at the very least a round of petty insults and jabs. Now, though, whenever the two of them ran into each other, Izaya’s eyes would widen and he would bolt like a spooked deer.

For some reason, that pissed Shizuo off. Admittedly, most things pissed Shizuo off, but this especially. It wasn’t that he wanted the other to be constantly picking fights with him, but there was something comforting about the consistency of it. Now everything felt off-kilter, his days going by one after the other with not a grievance in sight.

He already had a pretty good idea why the other didn’t want to face him, too. The memory swirled in his mind, crystal clear despite a week having passed since then. He had been chasing Izaya as per usual (it was difficult to remember what specifically had pissed him off that day but he was sure he must have had a justified cause), when suddenly Izaya tripped on the pavement. Shizuo took the oppurtunity to grab him, but the second his hands made contact with his sides the other had let out an uncharacteristic squeak. Shizuo had been so shocked that he accidentally let the other get away.

Evidently, Izaya’s strategy was to simply avoid him until he forget all about the events of that day. Fat chance of that. The noise he had made then was already locked in Shizuo’s mind, the precursor to a round of new discoveries. Unfortunately, he hadn’t gotten a chance to see the other face to face since then and Shizuo was growing tired of it.

The next time he saw Izaya, he was turning a corner and nearly bumped into him. Their eyes locked. Izaya bolted. Unlike every other time, however, Shizuo grabbed the other’s wrist before he could scurry into a passing cab.

“Hey,” he growled, whirling Izaya around to face him. “What’s the big idea?”

Upon being faced with an angry Shizuo, Izaya’s first response was a dazzling grin and a noncommittal shrug. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s not illegal to take a taxi, now, is it?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” Shizuo insisted. He dragged the other towards an abandoned alleyway, a move that would have made most people nervous, but Izaya’s nerves were for an entirely different reason. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

Izaya stiffened, shifting his gaze to the left of him. “I’ve hardly been avoiding you. We’re not exactly friends, you know. How could I possibly ignore someone I have no social obligation to?”

“You show up in Ikebukuro, my city, you cause chaos and disruption everywhere you go, you deliberately mess with the lives of everyone you meet, and somehow you drag me into every shitty situation you create.” Shizuo ticked each issue off on one hand. “So I think I have a right to be a bit confused when you suddenly start acting like I don’t exist.”

“Do you want me to ruin your life?” Izaya asked irritably. “You never seemed all that pleased about it before.”

“I want to know why you can’t look me in the eyes right now,” Shizuo corrected. “I’m giving you the chance to tell me, but I can take a guess if you’d like.”

Shizuo heard Izaya’s audible intake of breath. He tugged on his wrist but Shizuo’s grip was firm. His voice was tense as he answered, “Would you like to inform me then, if you’re so sure of the reason for my supposed avoidance?”

“I think,” Shizuo said, quickly snatching up the other wrist before Izaya could do anything and pulling both arms above his head and against the brick wall. “That you don’t want me to take advantage of a certain discovery I made last week.”

Izaya shrunk back instinctively against the wall as Shizuo transferred his hold to just one hand. He held his chin high with fake confidence as he asked, “Oh? And just what discovery was that?”

“That you—” Shizuo poked a finger suddenly into his ribs, causing the other to jump involuntarily—“are ticklish.”

Slowly, a flush began to overtake Izaya’s features, his ears glowing a bright crimson. Izaya glanced away, trying to cover up his obvious embarrassment with nonchalance. “Really Shizu-chan? What are we, children?”

“You’re not denying it,” Shizuo pointed out, taking a finger and gently dragging it up the length of his side. “Are you ticklish, I-za-ya?”

Izaya’s breath hitched at the drawn-out syllables, trying desperately not to squirm under his touch. “O-Of course I’m not ticklish. That would be ridiculous.”

“It would be,” Shizuo agreed, not letting up but not growing any more aggressive than his current pace. Just the slow, dragging pressure of his finger, skimming over the thin material of his shirt. “I mean, the famed info broker, one of the most dangerous men in all of Ikebukuro, ticklish? Almost enough to make you laugh.”

Izaya was trying his hardest to do the exact opposite of that. “R-Right. So there’s really no need for you to—ah!”

He bit his lip as fingers curled softly at the edge of his underarms. “I wonder what would happen,” Shizuo mused, tapping a rhythm against his skin. “If I tickled you ever so slowly…right…here...?” As he spoke, he wiggled fingers into the sensitive hollow, Izaya’s shirt doing very little to protect him. “What would you do, hmm?”

To be fair to him, Izaya really did try his hardest not to give in. He squeezed his eyes shut, tensing every muscle in his body in an attempt to hide how much the other was getting to him. In the end though, the soft persistence of it all was too much for him and he broke, musical giggles spilling from his lips.

“S-Shihihizuo!” he protested, writhing under his touch. “C-C’mohohon!”

Shizuo’s heart melted at the sight. Originally, his plan had been to come in and destroy Izaya with his newfound information, but now…. Looking at him now, flushed and giggling under such a gentle touch, Shizuo found that the only word he could describe him with was pretty. Though the thought was strange when applied to Izaya, his enemy, his nemesis, a man he had despised since the early days of high school, he found that he didn’t care in that moment.

So instead of digging in, Shizuo continued to administer the light touches currently driving Izaya up the wall and producing those heart stopping giggles that Shizuo was quickly becoming addicted to. “What’s wrong? Does it tickle?”

“F-Fuhuhuhuck yohou!” Izaya spat, the venom stripped from his words when matched with the stupid grin on his face. “A-Ahahaha, nohoho! Pffft, shihihihit!”

His legs gave out when Shizuo moved down suddenly, the feather-like touch dancing all over his hips. Shizuo swept a knee under him, his presence now the only thing keeping Izaya from collapsing on the ground. “You know, I think I enjoy you like this—all helpless and laughing. Maybe I’ll have to do this again whenever you decide to cause trouble in the city.”

Izaya’s eyes widened. Being held down and tickled like this daily was a thought that sent butterflies aflutter in his stomach. His struggling increased and he squeezed his eyes shut to try to distract himself from the situation. “Stahahahap ihihihit, yohohou bruhuhute! J-Juhuhust Nahahahat thehehere!”

“Not here?” Shizuo questioned innocently, continuing to torment his hips. “Why? Is it a bad spot?”

“Yehehes—Ihihihi mehehehean nohoho—I mehehehean—shihihihit!”

“I’ll take that as a yes then.”

For the next couple of minutes Shizuo persisted with his gentle assault on his nerves, driving Izaya out of his mind with the overload of sensation. It took a while for Izaya to genuinely plead, as he continued to insult and jab at him all the while until Shizuo discovered that fluttering fingers under his chin made him positively shriek and the man’s sanity quickly dissolved from there.

“Ohohohokay, ohohohohokay, I’m tihihicklish, n-now stahahahap!” Izaya scrunched up his shoulders, frantically trying to catch the other man’s hands between them. “Plehehease!”

Shizuo did stop, eventually. What he did next, however, was lean down and quickly press his lips against the other’s, claiming his leftover giggles in his mouth. He couldn’t have said what possessed him to do it, only that when Izaya had uttered “Please” through laughter-filled lips he found that there was nothing else he could have done. The kiss lasted for a mere two seconds before he realized what he was doing and quickly stepped back, releasing the other.

Izaya was staring at him wide-eyed as he slowly regained his footing. Shizuo’s hand covered his mouth, his fingers brushing against the place on his mouth where Izaya’s lips had just been. A similar red hue colored both their faces as they each tried to figure out what the fuck had just happened.

“Shizu-chan—” Izaya started, narrowing his eyes, but the sound of the familiar nickname was too much and Shizuo quickly fled before the other could get a chance to ask him any questions. Heart racing, the bartender quickly returned home and tried to figure out what had prompted him to kiss the flea and why he sort of wanted to try it again.

That week, it was Shizuo’s turn to avoid him.

[paintedwarpony]

Had a chat with my buddy @avinryd this morning...

Long story short and without launching into absolutely flying off the handle with everything that I'm angry about the DM of my group completely bailed on us...

NO YOU KNOW WHAT THE GUY SUCKED. He led us a into the game blind, punished us for being awkward and not knowing each other without having a session zero, consistently misgendered my character and another player AND his character, was really ridiculously sexist and misogynistic, he ignored all of the players attempts to really engage and be involved in building the world of our characters, would get bored if we weren't fighting stuff (like BORED as in would actually pull out his guitar and just play random stupid chords while we were trying to play), got mad when we killed stuff to quickly, interrupted and constantly made side comments while we tried to RP including one time actually stopping my character and asking 'are you really having this conversation?', tried to force us to do stuff we didn't want to do, wouldn't pay us for jobs we did, fucked over multiple characters with really weird ass story choices that essentially stole our paladin's chance to take his oath and made our barbarian the daughter of a random god, consistently dead ended actions we tried to take, cheated us out of XP then whined about us not being higher levels and 100% gave us ALL the vibe that he wasn't really happy or comfortable with how diverse and LGBTQIA+ our group was shaping up to be.

So two weeks ago we started an hour late, he pretty much ignored us for most of the session and then just left after an hour of us playing. Then this week the day before we were supposed to play he was like "until further notice I can't DM and it could be a long time before I could pick this back up".

The party decided to go ahead and meet for our normal time and talk about what to do. We aired some grievances, actually had the chance to really talk to each other and in the mix of it all my genius self offered up the position of DM if they were willing to do a Wildemount campaign because thats the only world I feel I can really confidently DM in.

To my honest surprise they bit.

A few weeks earlier one of my very good friends and favorite d&d artists @alikandhoney asked me to DM his group of buddies. I'm offering their group the chance to choose their setting, one of them is also Wildemount that they can choose.

Its so scary and exciting. And after what I've been through I want to be the DM that I would want to play with and I have been trying hard to build a great and unique storyline for each campaign and build up to each of PCs individual goals and the stories they want to accomplish. And its so insane to me that that old DM blew off my group so much because every single one of them has been so creative and excited and building some of the coolest ideas and even jumping on stuff that I wanted to do myself in our old campaign and was ignored and brushed off. And in my other group they're all seasoned that their ideas and characters are so unique that its making me really strive to come up with some really amazing stuff (I hope) that will be above and beyond for them so its stuff they've never seen before.

Honestly the hardest part is I don't get to gush about my ideas to any of my friends in either group CAUSE SPOILERS.

But bless @avinryd that they're in the same boat as a brand new Wildemount DM and we get to talk to each other and share ideas and get excited together.

Cause honestly you gotta have a buddy that understands to talk to cause you'll go crazy otherwise.

Cause Bro... BRO... B R O... I really seriously am excited about the stuff that I've been making and I really hope they go over well...

Matt Mercer Pray For Me, Lend Me Your Strength...

[rivetwrites]

Fluff Alphabet with Gundham?

you got it anon!!

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Gundham Takana Fluff Alphabet

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Gundham is a loner, having little to no experience in spending time with other people that aren’t his pets. With you, he’d love to showcase all of his marvelous Dark Devas of Destruction. He’d show you all the little tricks he taught them to do, or how to properly pet them. He trusts you dearly with his best friends, so he’s not too worried.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He thinks you’re perfect in his eyes. The way you don’t melt when he hugs you with his poisoned skin would easily be the best. He’s a very awkward person, so he compliments you on “how beautiful your cursed lips are.” It gets kind of dumb sometimes, but you can tell he’s trying.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Gundham is usually the one to send his Dark Devas to comfort you from across the room. He makes them hold little notes with hearts on them to send to you. He’s too shy to directly comfort you, so this would be the best thing. Once he finds that you keep them all, his cursed heart melts in his chest <3.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He doesn’t think about the future that often, since he usually lives for the now. But he sometimes thinks on how you two can take care of his animals together, or maybe share a household together. He wants you to be apart of his life, he’s just super hard to get to.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

The Supreme Overlord of Ice always takes care of his darling, no matter what. But sometimes, he’d need a bit of help knowing what to do in a relationship. Poor boy never truly had anyone to love besides his mother and pets, so he would be confused on how to progress through the relationship.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Gundham hates fighting with people, usually finding a way to get out of it before it escalates. But if it did get too bad, he’d apologize immediately. He can’t bear the thought of you being upset at him, pushing past his anxiety to comfort you himself. But if you upset him, he’d need a bit of time alone with his thoughts and Devas. He’ll come to you once he’s ready.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He’s kind of oblivious if you do things for him, like buying his pets their favourite food for them. It takes awhile for him to realize it’s you, and not his powers bringing his Devas’ gifts of gratitude. He’ll thank you immediately, with his scarf covering half of his face to hide his blush.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Gundham has the tendency to hide his feelings from people who he doesn’t trust, or not comfortable around. It takes a bit of time for him to open up to you about how he’s feeling, or what he’s been through in the past with his family. He trusts that you’ll be able to keep his secret, or he’ll have to curse you. He knows he would never have to, though.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Gundham is...Gundham. Always will be. The only thing that would change is that he slowly allows you to touch him. He has a little fear of people’s touch, which he covers up by saying his skin is poisonous to mortals. For you, he would probably change your perspective on “scary” animals, such as bears, or lions. He’ll love to show you how gentle they can be, even if it still scares you sometimes.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He has a big fear of someone stealing you away from him and leaving him behind. He feels like he’s not good enough for you, but he’s slightly greedy, so he would never let you go so easily. If someone was flirting with you, he’d be slightly oblivious. “Yes, of course my sovereign is beautiful. Don’t speak some foolish, obvious observation.” If he finally figured out that they were flirting, he would threaten to put a curse on him and his bloodline.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

It takes quite a long time for Gundham to kiss you, always chickening out before it gets too close. Of course you’ll wait until he’s ready. Once he is, it’s clumsy, very shy, and gentle. You two almost bonk heads as he kissed you suddenly. He’d nearly be sinking into his scarf, mumbling on how soft you were.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Very dramatic, yet very awkward. As soon as he figured out what he was feeling for you was love, he’d find you immediately. “Mortal, my...human half inside of me is telling me that I have very strong...feelings for you.” He couldn’t meet your eyes, his scarf slowly inching up his face as he waits for your answer.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

He’s very iffy on marriage. Of course he wants you to be his forever, but he feels like there doesn’t need to be an official label on it. You’re his Sovereign of Ice, he doesn’t need some piece of paper to tell him that.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

“Sovereign of Ice,” “my dearest,” are his go-tos, both in public and in private. He believes you’re worthy enough to be by his side, so he’s going to address you as such.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Gundham has a hard time showing love to anyone, so you’re not going to be any different. If he’s comfortable enough with you, he’ll slowly bring you into his arms as he rests his chin on top of your head. It doesn’t speak much, but he doesn’t have to. It’s amazing enough for him to muster up the courage to do this, so his actions speak much louder than words. More commonly though, he’d constantly declare his love for you in private, telling you how much you mean to his cursed heart.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

He’s a big loner and very quiet about his personal life, but it’s no secret that he’s dating you. He never ever kisses you in public, because he’s already shy enough to hold your hand around everyone else.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He’s absolutely amazing at listening to you. If you have a problem and need to vent, he’ll be there with his Devas in your lap as you complain about your friends, family, work, school, anything. After, he’ll support you and give you some advice that has helped him in the past.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

His dates usually consist on staying home and making food yourself. Gundham isn’t the best in social situations, so a date with just you, him, and his Devas, would be great in his book.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Your goals will be his goals as well. He’ll try his hardest to help you reach your goals in your life, as long as you help with his. He would never ever make fun of you for your goals, no matter how out there they are. He’s the Supreme Overlord of Ice, for hells sake! Nothing is impossible with him!!

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He would rather do things that you’re both comfortable with. His idea of “spice” in your relationship is going out to a diner to eat. He’s not much of a risk taker, but he rather have things happen naturally, than to have a routine.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Gundham is very empathetic, even though he has a hard time showing it and helping you. He’s the best at listening to you and your problems and will do his absolute best to help you get through them. You’re never going to be alone with your troubles when you’re with Gundham.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

You are his everything. You and his pets are his lifeline, and he would give anything and everything in his life you keep you guys safe.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

It’s very easily to tell when he’s needy for love. He’ll follow you around like a small, lost puppy, nudging you slightly with his arm. He’ll act like it was nothing, but once you hold him in your arms, he’ll melt instantly.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Affection isn’t a need for him at all. He prefers to vocally tell you his love rather than show it. Though, getting ready for bed, he’d love to rest his cheek on your chest has he listens to your heartbeat. It keeps him grounded, and it helps him sleep peacefully.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He’s rarely lonely, since he’s a loner, and he has all his pets to keep him company. But he wished you were here with him so he can protect you. Once you return home, all his Devas would climb on you as he hugs you lightly.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Gundham is willing to protect you the entire relationship. He may be very awkward and shy in regards of romance and affection, but he’d push away his discomfort to make you feel happy.

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Fight Or Flight

Summary: Life as a side with only a single function is pretty hard, as Flight knows all too well.  It’s even harder when you have to defend the idiot known as Justice from a side who wants to kill them both, and Justice is not making that easy.

Flight couldn’t name many things that scared him more than Avarice, which was impressive, because he was scared of a lot of things.

Carrots came to mind.  And the dark.  And getting hurt or hunted.  The list of fears Flight had built up was extensive.  But to be real, most things on the list were probably more irrational than not.  Avarice, on the other hand…

He had a genuine reason to be terrified of the side.  He’d originally been “Fit” and had been around since Thomas had been throwing them as a toddler.  He’d consisted only of Thomas’ fighting instinct back then.  Until one day, or so Flight had been told by the other single-function sides who’d been around long enough, when Thomas was two, he’d been throwing a fit because he wanted more dessert, and just like that, Fit had absorbed Greed.

Absorbing Greed as the first realization that such a thing could be done was generally not great for the other single-function sides, because suddenly Avarice had been finding ways to absorb apathy, despair, envy, self righteousness.

Flight had shown up after all of this happened, but he had the advantage of being Thomas’ fear.  And so he learned how to run and hide.  That kept him alive long enough to watch many other single-function sides cease to exist.

There were, of course, more sides with multiple functions then just Avarice.  The Duke and Deceit came to mind.  The Duke was made by the core Creativity, after he seemed to absorb everything around him too and realized he had too much to deal with alone (the difference being that Creativity didn’t murder anybody).  The Duke had some of Creativity too, along with intrusive thoughts and some of Thomas’ impulsiveness.  And Deceit had, well, deceit obviously, but also self preservation and selfishness and quite a bit of Thomas’ self love.  Him being Deceit gave him the ability to shut down other sides, which was something Avarice desperately wanted to get his hands on, but anytime he tried he was met with the guard dog that was The Duke.  Flight would admit, Deceit was smart to align himself with a fighter.

So Flight found his own way of doing the same.

Being The Duke’s plaything wasn’t exactly his idea of fun, but it meant The Duke liked scaring him enough to keep him alive, and made Avarice that much warier of absorbing him.

But mostly, he just knew how to run fast enough and hide well enough that he was never in the wrong place at the wrong time.  He stayed alive to watch other single-function sides dwindle down until the only ones left were him and Justice.  And Flight would honestly rather have the last side left with him be anyone else.

“It’s not fair,” Justice snapped, glaring out from their hiding spot behind the television cabinet.

“Yes, I understand that,” Flight hissed back.  “And it’s going to be even less fair if you don’t stop.”

“But why should we have to hide all the time just because Avarice wants everything for himself?”

“Because otherwise we’ll be part of the everything that he takes,” Flight said, glaring.  “How have you survived so long if you’re this bad at it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean shut up,” Flight said, grabbing Justice and shoving his hand over his mouth.  He held Justice tightly for long enough that Avarice’s voice started to be heard, and then whatever minuscule amount of self preservation the idiot known as Justice had seemed to kick in and he kept quiet and stopped moving.

They both listened as quietly as they could as Avarice walked through the room.  He didn’t seem to have any kind of a goal that involved murder if the casual tone of his voice while talking to Malice was anything to go by.  But if he knew they were there that would change.

After a long moment of fear and breath-holding, Avarice headed out of the room, and Flight listened to his footsteps fade before grabbing Justice and pulling him towards their original destination of the kitchen.

“Alright, grab what you think won’t be missed,” Flight said, grabbing a couple of fruits from the fruit bowl as Justice went to the pantry on the other side of the kitchen.

Flight didn’t really focus on what he was grabbing beyond the basic, “Is it food?” meaning they ended up back in his room later with handfuls of who-knows-what.  They set down what they’d managed to get on his bed, and Flight spotted three apples, a couple of bags of trail mix, and a handful of mini marshmallows.

“We can split the marshmallows,” Justice said.  “Or one of us could take a couple more and the other could have two of the apples.”

“Give me the apples,” Flight said, because that would be more filling, and he snatched up two while Justice split up the marshmallows and set a bag of trail mix by each of them.

Flight shoved the marshmallows into his mouth the second Justice handed them to him, and started on the apples next, shoving the trail mix in his hoodie pocket to eat for dinner later.  Justice started to eat everything, which meant he was probably thinking he’d go back later because he deserved enough food to not still be hungry.  Fucking idiot.

Flight leaned back on his bed and tried to breathe easy for the first time all day.  His room was safe in that it was much harder for sides to get in it without his permission, something he obviously didn’t hand out to everyone.

There were only two exceptions as to sides who could enter his room at any time.  The first was Deceit, because he had access to the entire mindscape and could do whatever the hell he wanted.  And the second was Justice, because despite what an idiot he was, he was the last other single-function side left, and they needed to stick together.  If Justice was in trouble and Flight’s room was closer, he had permission to head there instead of his own, and vice versa.

Flight turned towards Justice, who’d just opened the bag of trail mix.  “That’s not a good idea,” he said.

Justice glanced over at him.  “I’m still hungry.”

“You’re not going to make it if you try to go into the kitchen around dinnertime.  Especially not by yourself, and I’m definitely not helping you.”

Justice scowled.  “It’s not fair that we have to dig for scraps.  We should be able to eat three meals a day just like the multi-function sides.”

“For fuck’s sake, Justice, I don’t care how fair it is,” Flight said.  “If you eat that now and try to go back for more later, it will not end well for you.”

Justice glared at him and started shaking the trail mix bag into his mouth.  Flight gave a harsh sigh and leaned back against the wall behind his bed.  “Sure, whatever,” he grumbled.  “Your funeral.”

Justice finished eating the rest of the trail mix, and then wandered over to the other side of the room as Flight watched from his bed.  “Flight, when are you going to start doing things?” Justice asked, turning around to look at Flight from over by his barren desk.  “This place is so empty.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” Flight asked.  “I’m not Creativity.”

“No, but you could at least decorate,” he said.  “I hung up all of Thomas’ favorite superheroes in my room.  And some quotes about justice as an idea, and—”

“Hey, Justice?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Justice huffed and crossed his arms.  “Come on, this room doesn’t feel like a space for you!  Do something with it!”

“This room is the reason I’m not murdered in my sleep,” Flight said.  “It’s doing something for me.”

Justice spun his desk chair around and sat backwards in it.  “Do you even know what you like to do?”

“I like to be not dead.”

“Other than that.”

“Well, I don’t know, I’m pretty fond of that one.  It’s up there on my list of things that I like.”

Justice sighed and leaned over the back of the chair until his arms almost reached the floor.  “You deserve to start living.”

“I am living.  That’s the whole point.”

“No, you’re surviving.  There’s a difference.”

“Oh, damn, you’re right.  I’ll tell you what, I’ll stop caring about my general safety like you, and then we can both get killed that much faster.  Sound good?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I know what you mean,” Flight snapped.  “But I also know that my being scared keeps us both alive, so I’m not too thrilled about the idea of what’ll happen if I stop, okay?”

Justice sighed.  “That’s not fair to you,” he mumbled.

“Thank you for your acknowledgement that my life sucks.  It means so much.  I’ll remember you fondly when you get yourself killed for being a moron.  Or are you immune to death because it’s not fair?”

Justice didn’t look amused by that one.  Flight leaned back against the wall again and shut his eyes, trying once again to relax while he could.  He didn’t want to work himself into a panic attack again.  He might be staying in his room the rest of the day, but they were still exhausting, and not very fun.

Then again, he supposed if he was going to have one, it might as well be now, while he could be safe and gain his energy back before he had to run out to get food again.

Before Flight could decide whether or not to let himself have a panic attack should it happen, a loud crash came from the other side of his door and made the decision for him.

Flight let himself hope for a second that it was just The Duke coming to scare him again, but then a horribly familiar voice yelled out “Flight!”

Flight tried his hardest not to scream and pulled his hood over his head as Justice jerked upright on the other side of the room.

“Let me in!” Avarice screamed.

Flight didn’t say anything.  He shook his head at Justice, who had opened his mouth across the room.  Justice shut his mouth, of course.  He was an idiot, but he wouldn’t go against Flight while in his room.  Flight could kick him out for that.  And if Justice put them both in danger while Avarice was right outside, he would.

“I know you’re in there!” Avarice screamed, except he didn’t, he didn’t, there was no way for him to tell.  Flight ducked his head down and took deep breaths.  Justice made his way silently across the room and wrapped his arms around Flight as he was starting to shake.

Finally, Avarice screamed in frustration and banged one more time on the door.  Flight held back a whimper.

“Where the hell are they?” Avarice snapped, clearly to himself at this point.  Flight shoved his hand over Justice’s mouth, who glared down at him but still didn’t say anything when he noticed the panic in Flight’s eyes.  “Where are you, you little fuckers? We have business!”

With that, Avarice stormed away, and Flight waited a couple more seconds before pulling his hand down from Justice’s mouth, who didn’t look very happy.

“We were perfectly safe in here!” he exclaimed.  “You could have said something back, we would have been fine!”

“Are you fucking nuts?” Flight asked.  “You want to piss him off even more?”

“Flight, if we actually worked together, we might have a shot!  None of the other single-function sides ever worked together before!  We’re the only two, we might end up being able to do something if we stop hiding like cowards!”

“Or we could end up dead,” Flight said.  “I thought we went over this!”

Justice scowled and crossed his arms.  “So you’re not going to help because you’re too scared?”

Flight stared at him.  “You do realize who you’re talking to, right?  Or did you forget the fact that I’m Thomas’ instinct to fucking run when he sees danger?”

“We can’t just keep running forever!”

“Says who?”

“Me!” Justice exclaimed.  “It’s not—”

“Fair, yes, I know, none of it’s fucking fair, I get it,” Flight snapped.  “You know something?  Fair is the stupidest word in the goddamn dictionary.  Let’s see if you can still lecture me about things being fair when you end up dead fighting for it!”

“At least I’d go out fighting for something,” Justice snapped back.  “You’ve never stuck your neck out for anything in your life!”

Flight looked at him through narrowed eyes.  “I stuck my neck out for you,” he said.  “You think I’m safer with you around?  You’re constantly putting me in danger.”

“Yes, and the fact that I’m the only one here who treats you with anything even approaching respect has nothing to do with it,” Justice spat.  “The fact that I’m the only friend you’ve got doesn’t have anything to do with why you keep me around.  You’re telling me if I was in danger you wouldn’t fight for me?”

Flight threw his hands up in the air.  “No,” he said.  “Of course not!”

Justice jerked back in surprise, and stared at him for a moment longer.  Flight didn’t stop glaring.

Justice blinked at him.  “…Really?” he said, and suddenly his voice was quiet.

“I’m not going to get myself killed for you,” Flight hissed.  “I’ll help you if I can, but I can’t pull your dead weight all the time.”

Justice took a step backwards.  “But I… I thought we were friends,” he said softly.

“Friends are a stupid risk that only powerful sides can take,” Flight said.  “And I can’t be friends with someone like you.  You’re an idiot.  If I care about you too much you’ll get me killed.  I keep you around because you give me access to your room when I need it.”

Justice stared at him for another moment, looking more hurt than Flight had ever seen him before.  Flight almost took the words back, twice.  But after another moment, Justice’s gaze hardened.

“Fine,” he said.  He started towards Flight’s door.  “Then you don’t have to bother lugging around my dead weight anymore.  I can take care of myself.”

“What?” Flight grabbed his arm before he left.  “No, Justice, you can’t.  You don’t know how to survive.”

“And why should you care?” Justice said, glaring at him.  “I only ever almost get you killed, after all.”  And before Flight could say anything else, he turned and stormed out of Flight’s room, not even bothering to cower.

…Okay.  That was fine.  He’d be fine.  His room wasn’t terribly far from here, and Avarice had been here recently enough that even Justice knew to get to safety as quickly as possible.  He’d be over it tomorrow, and then they could both go get food from the kitchen tomorrow like they always did.  Flight didn’t need to worry about it.

He shut his door, moved over and sat on his bed.  He would worry anyway, of course.

That was his job.

But regardless, a few hours passed with no sounds in the mindscape beyond what was normal.  Flight managed to relax after a couple minutes passed and no sounds of screaming from Justice came.  So he was fine.  And Flight could apologize tomorrow, and almost mean it.  Everything would be fine.  Everything would be fine.  Everything would be fine.

“Everything will be fine,” Flight whispered, trying to calm his breathing.  He really couldn’t afford to have a panic attack now, it was only dinnertime, and he had to stay up a couple more hours until he heard Avarice go to sleep.  If he fell asleep while Avarice was still awake, he’d have nightmares.

…That wasn’t to say he wouldn’t have nightmares anyway, but if he fell asleep while Avarice was still awake, they’d be much more likely to be nightmares about dying by his hands.

So Flight leaned back against his wall, pulled his legs up to his chest, and spent several hours trying to steady his breathing.

That being a possibility was thrown completely out the window when the screaming started.

Flight leapt up from his bed on instinct when he heard it, and a second after that he recognized it.  Justice.

Flight ran over to his door and put his hand on the handle.  He took a breath and opened it.  He needed to see what was going on.  He might be able to get Justice out and back to his room without anything else going wrong.

He followed the screaming through the living room and towards the kitchen, which was when he started to get a horrible idea he knew what had happened.  Sure enough, when he looked around the corner and into the kitchen, Avarice had Justice backed up against the cabinets.  The Duke was sitting on a nearby counter, seeming totally uninterested in what was going on and instead reading through a magazine covered with scantily clad men.

“Shut up, you little pest,” Avarice snapped, shoving a hand over Justice’s mouth.  Justice was bleeding from his eye, which he was covering with his hand.

Justice shifted enough to dislodge the hand.  “Let me go,” he snapped.

The Duke looked up curiously, and Flight ducked down further.  Please don’t let The Duke notice him.  If he noticed him he’d chase him away.

The movement caught Justice’s attention, and their eyes met, Justice’s widening slightly.  The next second they turned pleading, and Flight recognized it for the begging for help that it was.

His hands started to shake.  He couldn’t go out there.  He couldn’t.  Justice was on his own.  He couldn’t overpower Avarice, he was Avarice.

“Like hell,” Avarice snapped, leaning over Justice further.  “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get my hands on you?”

The Duke sighed, sounding very done with this whole situation.  “Avarice, come on, let him go,” he said, and Flight’s spirits raised suddenly.  “You can’t keep killing all of the single function sides.  Dee-Dee doesn’t like it.”

“There’s only two more,” Avarice said, and Flight was a little taken aback by how different he sounded.  Almost like he… respected The Duke.  Or at least that he had to pretend that he did.  “Hardly worth keeping them around at this point.  Besides, who around here actually likes this one anyway?”

“Hmm,” The Duke mused, looking back at his magazine.  “He is very annoying.”

Flight looked back at Justice, dread welling up.  No, no, no.

Avarice grinned, and Flight saw him start the all too familiar process of absorbing his function.  And a side without a function had no reason to exist.

“Help me!” Justice screamed.  “Someone, please!”

He’s not calling me out, Flight realized.  He was trying to keep him safe.  Flight was going to stand here and watch the only person who’d ever shown him any kindness be killed by the side who made his life a living hell.

That… that wasn’t fair.

“H-hey!” Flight snapped, standing up.  All three of the other side’s gazes flew to him.  “Leave him alone!”

Flight kept his gaze firmly on Avarice, though he could have sworn he saw The Duke looking curiously at him from the corner of his eye.

Avarice started cackling, and Flight almost bolted right then and there.  “Oh, this is priceless,” Avarice said, turning while still keeping a firm grip on Justice.  “Does the mindscape’s resident coward want to stand up for his friend?”

“Y-you—” Flight clenched his shaking hands into fists.  “Let— let him go.”

Avarice smirked at him, then turned back to Justice and absorbed the rest of his function before Flight could blink.

“No!” he cried, at the same moment The Duke of all sides said “Hey,” sounding more than a little ticked.

Avarice turned and shoved Justice towards Flight, then leaned casually back against the counter.  “All yours,” he said.

Flight leapt forward and caught him, then turned the side over in his arms.  Justice didn’t look in pain anymore, but he didn’t look much of anything else either.  He was already starting to fade.  He looked up at Flight, and Flight wanted to kill someone for how terrified he looked.  But for some reason, he also looked proud.

“Hey,” Justice said, and he smiled weakly.  “I knew you had it in you.”

“No,” Flight said.  “No, you are not dying on me.  You’re not, you hear me?  You—” Flight squeezed his eyes shut.  “You stay here.  Hang on.”

“What are you—”

Flight set Justice against the counter and stood, turning to face Avarice.  His hands were still shaking in terror, but that was nothing compared to the rage suddenly building up in his chest.  “What. The hell. Was that?” he growled, taking a step closer to Avarice.

Avarice smirked in amusement.  “Oh, sweetheart.  Why don’t you save yourself the embarrassment and run off with your tail between your legs?  I’ll leave you alone for now, you can live another day.”

“No,” Flight growled.  “You listen here, you piece of shit.  I have watched you kill off half the mindscape.  And I’m not going to let you do the same to the one good part of it.  Give me him back.”

Avarice laughed.  “Oh, sure, I’ll just—”

Flight stormed forward and put his hand on Avarice’s chest, and without really knowing what he was doing, reached inside and pulled.  “I said.”  Something was coming out of Avarice’s chest, and his eyes widened.  “Give me him back.”

Flight pulled, and yes, there was a glowing ball of light that represented Justice’s role, and… something else too?  He yelped in surprise as the something else, something dark and angry and fierce, crossed the empty space and flew right inside him, nestling inside his chest right next to where his core function was.

But he didn’t have time to focus on that right now.  Instead he turned back to Justice, who was staring at him and had almost faded away, and knelt down in front of him, holding the function up to his chest.  The small ball of light he was holding fazed into what was left of Justice, and he stopped fading.

Flight let out a breath of relief and pulled Justice up into his arms.  “Are you okay?”

“I… yeah,” Justice gasped.  “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Flight turned to glare back at Avarice, who was gaping at him.  Over on the other counter, The Duke was staring at him too.

“You… you took it,” The Duke said.

Flight looked down at his own chest, that was starting to glow, some sort of odd mix of black and purple.  After another second, his chest stopped glowing and the roles settled, and somehow he instinctively knew what they were.

“Fight or Flight,” he said softly, looking back at Justice.  The Duke hopped down from the counter, and Flight— or no, that wouldn’t work anymore, would it?  He’d have to come up with something else— looked back over as he crossed the room.

“Cool,” The Duke said, starting to grin.

“Hey, wait a second,” Avarice said, starting to march across the room again.  “That was my original function.  You can’t just—”

Flight whirled on him and marched closer, shoving Avarice back into the wall.  “Yeah?  Cause I just fucking did.  And if you ever touch him again, I’ll take more, do you understand?”

Avarice, for once, looked scared.  Flight decided he liked that.

“Hey,” The Duke said, and he turned again.  “What’s your name?”

“Uh…” Flight looked down at his chest.  He looked back up at The Duke.  He thought for a minute.

“Anxiety,” he said.

The Duke started grinning.  “Anxiety,” he said.  “Well, Anxiety, that was fucking badass.  I didn’t know I was messing with someone who had so much guts.  Do you two want to come meet Dee?”

Anxiety blinked in surprise.  “Deceit?” he asked.

“Yeah,” The Duke said, grinning over at him.  “I think we could seriously use someone like you around.  And I uh, imagine where you go he goes,” he said, grinning back down at Justice.

Anxiety nodded firmly.

“Cool,” The Duke said.  “Well, let’s get going then.”  He headed off like that decided that.  Anxiety looked down and quickly grabbed Justice’s arm.  He had no idea how long this offer was going to last.  He pulled Justice up and started dragging them both after The Duke.

They caught up when The Duke was knocking on Deceit’s door, which Deceit looked surprised to see when he opened it.  “You’re knocking?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, these two can’t appear in your room without permission,” The Duke said, gesturing back at them.  “And you’re gonna wanna know what Anxiety here just did for… oh, uh, sorry what’s your name?” The Duke asked, glancing at Justice.

Anxiety shared a glance with Justice, and they both seemed to realize simultaneously that they’d get laughed out of the room if they introduced a side named “Justice” to The Duke and Deceit.  Justice nodded, small enough that it would be imperceptible to anyone else, giving Anxiety permission.  Anxiety did the same back.

“Wrath,” Anxiety said, turning to face the other two.  “This is Wrath.”

“Ooh, nice,” The Duke said, grinning wider.  “Anyway, you’re gonna wanna hear what just went down.  I think it’s time to add some new members to our crew, Dee-Dee!”

Deceit raised an eyebrow.  “Really?  Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Just here ‘em out!”

Deceit shrugged.  “Alright, come on in,” he said, looking back towards Anxiety and Wrath, and then headed back into his room.  The Duke followed him, and Anxiety shared one last glance with Wrath, who shrugged.

Anxiety took a deep breath, and they both headed into the room of the head of the subconscious, preparing themselves for whatever was going to happen next.

Part 2

[peaskyblonders]

Tease

GIF NOT MINE!!!

John Shelby x reader

26: “Bite your lip one more time. I dare you.”

Warnings: swearing, slight choking (oops), reader being a tease

1.8k words

You had known the Shelby family for a few years now. You first met them when applying for a job as a bookkeeper when their business was still considered "small" and consisted mainly of family members, but considering you were one of the only women in Small Heath who knew how to add and subtract, they gave you the job and welcomed you with open arms.

The company eventually started to expand and grow and with that, so did your position at Shelby Company Limited. You moved from bookkeeper to John Shelby's secretary, a position that you were content with and wouldn't change for the world.

Unbeknownst to everyone else, you secretly favoured the mischievous Shelby brother to the rest. You remember how giddy you felt when you got offered the job and recall having to stop yourself from jumping with glee upon hearing the news.

You came to work early every day, making sure that Johns desk was tidy and everything was in place, you then wrote him a to-do list for the morning before moving towards your smaller desk across from his room. Your desk was placed directly in front of his windows so you had a clear view of him throughout the day. It was helpful as you could tell if he was too busy to deal with clients, bringing it upon yourself to take a message from them which you would forward onto him later in the day.

The placement of your desk also meant that John could see you at any given moment of the day, he wasn't complaining, of course. He was actually the one who insisted your desk be placed there. Truth be told, if he could have it his way, your desk would've been placed in the room with him, but he couldn't always get what he wanted and he supposed that what he was given was more than good enough.

Johns feelings for you started to shift after a month of you working for him. You had both gotten into a steady routine and were getting used to each other's company, you were getting more confident around the people that you worked with and started wearing clothes that you enjoyed wearing, rather than clothes you thought made you look professional. The first day you ever came to work for the Shelbys, you had on a pair of trousers, a day which John hasn't forgotten since. You seemed to have favoured wearings skirts to work recently, John had noticed, but he wasn't complaining as he knew you'd look good in anything and everything.

You had been wearing a skirt the day everything changed between you and John. You got into work and did all your necessary tasks, you believed it was just a normal day, but John, on the other hand, was frustrated the moment you sat down at your desk. He wasn't sure if you had noticed that your stockings were on full display to him, but he didn't really care as he was finding it difficult to concentrate on anything except them.

You were silently killing him as he nervously bounced his leg up and down behind his desk, hoping somehow to ease the tension that was building around him. He found it even worse that you had no idea what you were doing to him, you were just simply doing your work, he couldn't believe what kind of effect you had on him.

You, of course, knew exactly what you were doing. You could see how uncomfortable John was and you were loving every minute of it. You could see him from the corner of your eye as you did your paperwork and you were determined to see how far you could go before he cracked.

You knew you had to step it up a notch when you saw that John had calmed slightly, you shifted in your seat, trying to make your next moves appear to be as seamless as possible. You crossed one leg on top of the other and ran your hand along your thigh, exposing the garter of your stockings to John. You never once looked up from the paperwork on your desk and silently prayed that he was watching your every move.

He was, you realized when you looked up for a split second to find him already looking at you with his jaw clenched and his hand placed firmly on his knee, holding the majority of his body weight upwards. You gave him an innocent smile, as you normally would, and continued on with your work, trying your hardest to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

You carried on with your work for an hour or two, until you eventually got bored and looked up into Johns office, finding him emersed in paperwork. You heard the telephone ring from your desk and quickly picked it up. "Shelby Company Limited, Y/N speaking, how may I help you?" you asked, you saw John's head shoot up at the sound of noise outside the office and you made eye contact with him as you continued your conversion with the man on the phone.

You bit your lip slightly as you listened to the man, and raised your eyebrows at John when he requested to speak with him. John furrowed his eyebrows at you causing you to smile and point at the phone and then towards him. He nodded his head when he seemed to understand your message so you redirected the call and hung up from your end. John leaned back in his chair as he took the call, but never seemed to remove his eyes from yours. He was staring at you with a look of hunger in his eyes and you were starting to think that you may have taken your game to far.

You tried to go back to work, putting an end to your childish game. Out of habit, you bit your lip as you calculated numbers, you hadn't even noticed you were doing it until you heard the phone slam down. Your head shot up and a shiver ran down your spine when you saw John motioning for you to come into his office.

You took a deep breath as you stood up, flatting out your skirt before you walked the short distance to his office and opened the door. "Everything alright, Mr Shelby?" you asked, an innocent look plastered on your face.

John scoffed at your words. "Would you like a drink?" he asked as he walked to the other side of his room, you made your way closer to his desk, wondering what the hell was happening and if you were about to get fired.

"Em no thank you, I don't drink while I work."

"You don't think it's ok to drink while working, but you think it's ok to tease me all day and not let me get any work done, huh doll?" he spoke as he took a predatory step towards you, causing you to walk backwards and lean on his desk.

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't act all innocent now, darling" he scoffed as he swallowed his drink in one long gulp. He leant down to place it beside you on the table. You could feel his breath on your shoulder and you bit your lip to stop yourself from letting out any noise. John straightened up and his eyes immediate fell towards your lips. He hand moved to gently grab your chin, his tumb removing your lip from your teeth before his hands fell down to hold the desk, entrapping you between him and the desk. "Bite your lip one more time. I dare you," he whispered as he looked deeply into your eyes.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat and john smiled mischievously at the sound. "We shouldn't be doing this, John" you warned, although your body seemed to be betraying you as you leaned closer to him.

"And why the fuck not?" he wondered, his head ducking down to be eye level with you.

"It's wrong, I'm your secretary, Imagine if Tommy found out-"

"Tell me you don't want this. Tell me and ill step back."

You, once again, bit your lip at his words, knowing that there was no way you could tell him you didn't want this when you had constantly dreamt about it for over a month. You opened your mouth to speak but before you could get any words out, John had slammed his lips onto yours, his two hands cupped your face, pulling you into him while his body pushed you further against his desk.

You kissed him back with as much force as you could, grabbing the sides of his suit jacket and pulling him even closer to you. You were certain he could feel every curve of your body and the only thought going through your mind was that you wanted him even closer.

John eventually pulled away, his chest rising and falling rapidly with every breath the took. He closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against yours. "Told you to stop biting that fuckin' lip, Y/N"

You brought your hand up to gently run your fingers over the side of his face. His eyes fluttered open at the feeling, causing a smile to grace your face. "Make me."

Those words seemed to be a breaking point for john. His eyes darkened in colour as he shoved the books off his desk and placed you on top of it. Standing in between your legs, he ran his hands along your thighs as he kissed you again, with more passion this time. One of his hands moved to grab the side of your neck while the other squeezed your thigh. You involuntary let out a moan and John grinned at the sound.

His mouth moved to your neck, kissing every bit of flesh that he could find until he found your sweet spot. He began to suck lightly on the patch of skin before pulling away and blowing lightly on it. "No hickeys, John," you warned.

He laughed as he placed a quick peck to your lips. "I'm afraid its too late for that, sweetheart. Besides, it'd be nice to look at tomorrow, a little reminder so to speak." You rolled your eyes at him, the action being cut off as he applied the tiniest amount of pressure to your throat. "None of that love."

"Just kiss me you idiot" you moaned as he resumed his previous position. You felt his hand move higher on your thigh, hissing lightly as he lifted your garter and let it fall against your skin.

"Now these have caused a tremendous amount of pain for me, think id prefer to just take them off, hmm?"

"John your anyone could walk past" you scolded, although your eyes were closed and you were leaning into his touch, so you doubt you put up much of a fight.

"Lets put on a show then," he grinned before kneeling down and removing your stockings at a painstakingly slow pace.

And put on a show he did.

[floral-and-fine]

Heaven Bent part 2

Daryl Dixon x female reader

Part 1

Summary: The reader finds Sophia lost in the woods, too bad neither of them have any sense of direction. 

A/n: Thanks for the support on part 1! Daryl is probably the hardest character I've ever written for. I've got a lot of ideas for this fic, just hoping I stay motivated. Thanks @ewokiee​ for all the help especially when I’m stuck!

You groaned, rolling over to your side and snuggling further into the covers. This had to be the softest bed in the world, with fluffy plush pillows stuffed with down feathers under your head and a thick warm blanket draped over your body. You wanted nothing more than to stay here and never leave. God, this was a million times better than cold nights sleeping on the ground, this bed was heaven, absolute heaven.

However, how you got here though was still a bit foggy, the last thing you could remember was an angel with a horse coming to save you and Sophia. Maybe this truly was heaven you thought to yourself. Either way, you were better off here than you were in that forest.

You peeked an eye open as you heard the door creak. An old man with white hair stepped into the room. There was an air of wisdom and sensibility about him.

“God?” You whispered, sitting up slightly.

The man gave you a skeptical look. “You must still be delirious,” he mused. “I’m Hershel, and this is my home.”

You nodded, taking a better look around. The room was decorated nicely, a typical farmhouse interior with white trim around the doorframe and windows. Definitely a nice place though.

He walked over to the side of the bed and looked you over. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you answered, stretching your arms above your head.

“Good,” Hershel muttered. “When you first got here you weren’t making a lick of sense. You and that girl were in those woods for at least a week.”

“How is she?”

“She’s going to be alright. She just needs to rest,” he explained. “Most people had given up hope on finding her, my guess is she would’ve died without your help.”

You nodded, satisfied knowing Sophia was going to be okay.“That reminds me,” you started. “Where’d my angel go?”

Hershel quirked an eyebrow. “Angel?” He repeated.

“Yeah, I was saved by an angel,” you explained, trying to remember what he looked like exactly. You recalled his wings and halo, and that he didn't quite act like an angel should.

Hershel stifled a laugh, “That man is a lot of things, but I doubt he’s any kind of angel.”

“I know, but he’s an angel to me,” You looked down fiddling with the blanket on your lap, “I’d like to thank him now that I’m thinking more clearly… I can’t remember if I did when he found us.”

Hershel nodded, “If I see him, I’ll send him this way. Trish will be bringing up something for you to eat and some clean clothes.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, your eyes meeting his before he left the room.

…

In long strides, Daryl headed towards the RV, wanting to check in real quick on Sophia and Carol.

The look on everyone’s face when he returned with her and a stranger ranged from genuine surprise to shock.

Carol ran as fast as she could, meeting him at the edge of the woods. Immediately she crumbled to her knees, crying, as Daryl placed Sophie in her arms, muttering thank you over and over again.

Other than Daryl, it seemed like no one else believed that Sophia was still alive out there, and most of them had given up on finding her too.

Daryl thought back to you, back to the way you smiled at him while you were delirious, it was an image he couldn’t get out of his head. He couldn’t remember a time anyone else ever looked at him like that.

Just as the RV was in sight, Daryl could overhear voices coming from the woods nearby. Carefully, he wandered over, curious as to who was being so secretive.

Even with their voices hushed, it didn’t take Daryl long to identify who was talking. He frowned to himself listening closer, it was Rick and Shane, and from the sound of it, they were fighting over something.

“So what? We’re supposed to take in every stray we meet?” Shane argued.

“She helped one of our own,” Rick reasoned, stepping forward. “Sophia is alive because of her. We owe it to this woman.”

“We aren’t living in that kind of world anymore,” Shane insisted, gritting his teeth.

“Take a look around you,” Rick hissed. “We’re here right now because of the decency of others, we aren’t those kinds of people, we aren’t animals, we aren’t just gonna abandon her.”

Daryl huffed as Shane tried to pull that same bullshit like he did over the search for Sophia. All that survival of the fittest crap. If that really were the case, their group would only consist of him, Rick, and Shane.

“Daryl should’ve left her in those woods,” Shane spat. “We can’t afford to have another mouth to worry about.”

Daryl clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white. Shane was really starting to show his true colors, a part of Daryl was beginning to think the group would be better off without that asshole.

Rick shook his head, he couldn’t believe Shane would even suggest telling that woman she had to go, to send her back out there on her own. And now this? Did he really think so little about the lives of others?

“I don’t know what your problem is, but all that shit about numbers or math or whatever ain’t right, she’s a person, a good person… She stays. End of story.”

Rick stared Shane down, making his point crystal clear. He knew the rest of the group would agree with him if it came to the point of getting the others involved. Rick had no idea what was going on inside Shane’s head, but it was sending him red flags.

Finally, Shane scoffed and stomped away, obviously still pissed off.

Sighing, Rick ran a hand over his face, he was going to need to keep a closer eye on Shane. This wasn’t the first time he’s made Rick worry. Shane was acting unpredictably lately, and some of his behavior was off the rails, there was no telling what he might do next.

Daryl started walking back the way he came, for a hot second there it seemed like things might have gotten ugly, in which he would’ve stepped in and backed Rick up.

…

You took another big bite of the apple Trish had brought up, moaning as you savored the taste, it felt like ages since you had fresh produce.

“You can take a shower in there,” Trish explained gesturing to the attached bathroom. She sat some clean clothes on the dresser for you. “Tried to find you some things in your size, hope they fit alright.”

Your eyes widened as you processed what she just said… you could take a shower? You almost wanted to celebrate over the news. Honestly, ever since waking up it felt like you had won some kind of lottery or a free vacation. You thanked her as she left the room.

The moment she was gone, you scurried out of the bed, stripping out of the dingy clothing you had been wearing for the last week. You could only imagine how terrible you smelled, surprised anyone welcomed you into such a nice home.

Turning on the faucet to the tub, you practically squealed when the water started heating up. Carefully, you removed your jewelry, setting it all down on the sink.

You couldn’t even describe the sound you made as you stepped in under the showerhead. It was a strange mix between a sigh, a laugh, and a moan.  

A week’s worth of grime and dirt rinsed off your body and down the drain. You scrubbed every inch of yourself, wanting to make sure you took full advantage of this chance. Who knows if you’d be fortunate enough to meet anyone else with a working shower on your travels.

For a few extra minutes, you just stood under the running water, enjoying every second of warm water before finally getting out of the shower.

…

“Ah, there you are,” Hershel said as Daryl approached the house. The old man was sitting in a chair on the porch, keeping an eye on Rick’s group. “Our new guest was asking for you.”

Daryl narrowed his eyes, unsure what you’d want from him.

"She seems to think she and that little girl have a guardian angel looking out for them," Hershel chuckled.

Daryl scowled. "Don't know what you're talkin' 'bout," he grumbled, climbing up the steps of the porch.

Being inside the farm house made Daryl feel uncomfortable like he was too dirty or something. All his life he couldn’t remember being welcomed into a house this nice looking.

Careful not to touch anything, he started going up the stairs. He didn’t even dare to touch the white banister, worried that he was tracking in dirt on his boots.

He knocked on the door and stuffed his hands back into pockets.

“Come in,” you called, still drying your hair. You were grinning like an idiot when Daryl stepped in. “There’s my angel!” You announced.

"Will you knock it off with all that angel crap?" Daryl demanded trying his best to be intimidating and tough.

You giggled, setting the towel down, and approached him. Your eyes and smile were the same, the exact same as they had been the first time you had mistaken him for an angel. He’d never admit it out loud, but he liked it, the way that you saw him.

“Why? As far as I’m concerned you’re heaven sent. Without you, me and Sophia would’ve died out there.”  

Daryl turned his head away, rubbing the back of his neck, he’d be damned if he allowed you to catch him blushing.

“Anyways, I asked for you, cause I wanted to say thank you,” you explained, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder, right before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks,” you murmured.

Daryl scoffed, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. “It was nothin’.”

You shook your head, “it wasn’t nothing.”

His piercing eyes met yours and your heart practically stopped. Just as you were about to lean forward again, Daryl cleared his throat, “you oughta put on a shirt, before going out there.”

You laughed, grabbing the white tee off the dresser, you were too distracted by Daryl to realize you were only wearing pants and a bra.

He rolled his eyes and left the room closing the door behind him. As you were pulling the shirt over your head you could hear him slowly descending the stairs muttering something to himself.

…

“You mean it?” You asked Rick flabbergasted, worried you didn’t hear him right. “Are you really saying I can stay with you all?”

“I am,” Rick nodded. “As far as I’m concerned you're one of us.”

With an excited shriek, you slung your arms around his neck in a quick hug. “Thank you!”

Rick laughed and patted your back.

You were ecstatic, when he asked to speak with alone and had pulled you to the side away from everyone, you assumed he was going to tell you that you had to go. But instead you received the best news imaginable for your situation.

As you pulled away from Rick, you felt someone watching you, it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

Looking around you saw a man with a buzzed haircut who was stalking off, he hadn’t spoken a word to you or bothered to introduce himself, but you heard the others refer to him as Shane. His body language was very aggressive, he was definitely pissed about something.

Once he was out of sight, you rubbed your arms up and down getting rid of the goosebumps that had appeared and made a mental note to avoid that man as much as possible. Whoever he was, he was giving off some serious bad vibes and nothing good was going to come of it.

“Did he tell you!?” An excited voice screeched, snapping you out of your stupor. Two thin arms wrapped around your middle, hugging you tightly.

You laughed, “he did!”

“So that means you’re staying with us, right?” Sophia asked, practically squeezing the life out of you.

“Yep.”

Looking up from Sophia, you saw her mother standing nearby, a soft smile on her face as she watched the two of you.

You gave her a small wave, before returning Sophia’s hug.

…

You settled into a routine with the group rather quickly, helping out with whatever you could from laundry to going on runs with Glenn. They were all friendly people for the most part with the exception of Shane.

Anytime the man was around, it put you on edge even with the others around. It seemed pretty apparent that he didn’t like you much, he’d seem perfectly fine until he noticed that you were nearby. All you could hope for was that he wouldn’t try to persuade Rick to force you to leave.

You were humming a random song to yourself while hanging laundry on the clothesline. It was a good day for it, plenty of sunshine and even a nice breeze, these clothes would dry in no time.

Reaching down into the wicker basket, you pulled out a white t-shirt, as you were pinning it to the line someone grabbed your forearm.

You gasped, where the hell did Shane come from?

“Shane,” you stuttered, wrenching your arm out of his grasp. “You scared me.”

He looked down at you, his eyes full of hatred towards you. “You’re going to get us all killed.”

You furrowed your brow, “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” He snapped, shaking his head. “Not everyone is capable of surviving this… you’re weak…”

You shrunk back, worried that whatever you did or tried next would only set him off.

He took another step forward, “I’ll be damned if I let you risk it for the rest of us.”

Daryl's eyes narrowed as he came out of the woods. His grip on his crossbow tightening. Your body language alone was enough for him to notice that you were uncomfortable.

“Hey!” Daryl shouted. “Thought you wanted me to teach you how to skin an animal.” He held up the rabbits he just caught.

You blinked in surprise, looking at Daryl, his expression was practically murderous as he stared at Shane, who immediately backed off, taking a few steps away from you.

“Well I ain’t got all day,” Daryl complained, gesturing for you to come with him.

Finally, it dawned on you what he was doing.

“R-Right,” you squeaked, quickly shuffling away and over to Daryl. You kept your head down, still feeling Shane’s eyes on you.

“C’mon,” Daryl said, gently placing a hand on your upper back and guiding you back towards the RV.

“Thanks, Angel,” you murmured, once you believed you were far away enough that Shane couldn’t hear you.

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered, turning around and giving Shane a dirty look. The next time that asshole decides to corner you like that, Daryl was going to beat the shit out of him.

Tags: @xaestheticalien​ @twdeadfanfic​ @amaroho​

[blessedsage99]

Why Lapis and Pearl Could Work As A Great Pairing

It is without a doubt that most people agree that Lapis and Pearl would do absolutely anything for Steven. Maybe not anything as Lapis jumped off to the nearest solar system to get away from conflict, but he is in fact the one person she would indefinitely pull out extra stops for (ie; willing to indulge befriending Peridot, live on and try earth, go into the ocean once more, etc) . But I do not think that would be the one of the driving forces between their relation but it might be one of the factors to goad them into trying and befriending each other. And perhaps…. More.

Similarities On a surface level you can perhaps glean several similarities, perhaps similar shadow and body type, sasuke pointing hair… And then another layer and find their personalities are vastly different. Pearl is very educated, prefers order, dramatic, emotional, enjoys engaging in combat, very forgiving (ex; is quick to forgive Peridot once she actually makes the amends to not call her an object), and does her best to make up for mistakes (ex; several episodes of making it up to Garnet).

Lapis is very lazy and blase, the barn she and Peridot have formed together has no sense of order and moreso chaos, she instantly flies at the first sight of conflict, is the least forgiving gem out there (ex; holds it against the crystal gems for pretty much the entirety of the series, and Peridot goes lengths and miles to try and get Lapis forgive her and still is unable to and it takes Steven to intervene and scold her to make an attempt), and honestly? Lapis hardly ever apologizes for her mistakes versus Pearl. She shows signs of guilt but she never really apologizes to Peridot for anything she’s done to her nor Steven nor… Well, really anyone else, except in Future.

But that aside, it’s when you think about their more lighthearted sides and trauma is where most of their similarities lie.

Hobbies

As off as it sounds, it’s fairly essential in pretty much any relationship to cross over a few hobbies, even if you don’t share everything, it often all starts with something along those lines. And Pearl and Lapis share a huge chunk of their hobbies, believe it or not.

Both Lapis and Pearl definitely enjoy reading, Pearl being the educational beast she is and Lapis probably enjoys the relaxed activity. In fact their genres might be even similar as Lapis and Pearl enjoy reading odd textbooks (ex; The hairstyles book for Lapis, and the engineering book for Pearl) and both enjoy dramas (albeit, perhaps this might be different) like Camp Pining Hearts and Pearl was willing to write a play and overseer one in Jamie’s case. This perhaps is b-level canon however, in the comic issue Camp Pining Play, Lapis is willingly engaging in participating and acting out in a play, she even enjoys it.

If given incentive of enjoying the subject already, Lapis is willing to perhaps enjoy the drama of things along with Pearl.

Both enjoy singing, if we’re going off Lapis was previously like other Lapis, that would mean singing and dancing is looked down upon on her caste. So the fact she even makes the attempt to do so in Distant Shore means she’s practicing in it, and if we want to add another layer of it, in the game Unleash the Light, one of Lapis’s key items is the Crying Breakfast Friends Sing-Along. And who else enjoys karaoke? Pearl (ie; the commercial karaoke). Also Lapis does it in Future so like if you want canon material it’s right there in Why So Blue.

This is a bit of a stretch but it’s clear that Lapis enjoys the arts which her participation in the class and what the heck else she does with Peridot in the barn, and Pearl has at the very least has experience in it. (ex; the drawing she makes, despite her humble opinion, makes it clear she’s done it before, in fact I’m willing to bet she even painted that fucking painting of Rose Quartz) It perhaps could lead to some more experience and artworks together if you know what I mean…

Casting that aside, it’s clear the two have a main stream of things to enjoy together should they choose to versus some other couples. (And different ones should they choose to introduce the other, Pearl with baking and sword fighting and Lapis with farming and flying, etc)

Traumas

Now this is the important part, I’m willing to argue they both can share extremely similar and relate to each other’s problems. They just have vastly different ways of coping with it, or well… They both have some similarities there as well, but we’ll address that in the next paragraph-ish.

But the biggest one? Both miss their homeworld. Dearly.

In fact it’s the driving force for Lapis’s introductory episodes and one of Pearl’s where she tries to get Steven into a rocketship back to her home. Both are ancient and dusty as fuck, or well, at least heavily implied to be ancient with the fact of Pearl commenting she learned the sword when she was only ten thousand years old (Sworn to the Sword iirc), the war was six thousand which implies Pearl learned before it. And Lapis, it’s merely conjecture however the fact that Lapis isn’t a vegetable after and still has a strong sense of identity after being in the mirror for 4 thousand years says something (ie; My name is LAPIS LAZULI!), the likely conclusion is the fact it’s because that’s not even close to how old she is. It’s only a fraction of her lifetime, which means both are… Well, old as hell. And even more likely? They come from the same ‘homeworld’ unlike Peridot or Amethyst who were made after and Garnet who has herself.

The second one is the one both of them likely have their divisive opinions on, especially as they were from opposing sides of it, is that they were both part of the War.

Both obviously have their trauma’s from it, as shown as Pearl in ‘A Single Pale Rose’ she’s still traumatized over the thousands of shattered gems (which is essentially corpses to her) she was forced to witness right after the war, and Lapis being forced to watch inside the mirror as everyone condemns her to being a crystal gem. I’m willing to bet she saw everyone die while inside the thing as well. As well as considering Lapis never really got over anything as she was gonna literally yeet herself away at the mere IDEA of the war… Well, who else could help her but another person who knows the horrors as well? And Pearl has experience as she had a support system unlike Lapis who got worse and worse purely just by being herself.

Moving on as I don’t have a cool and smooth transition...  This might be a bit of a stretch, but the last thing they both share very heavily over is the fact both were objectified.

Pearl was born to be an object, whereas Lapis was forced to become one, the mirror. And both consistently fight over the fact throughout most of the series. In the movie, the thing that makes Pearl remember herself is the freedom to be herself, and when she returns to her homeworld she’s forced to be reminded of her place when she talks to Holly Blue and returns to Steven in the final season. Lapis is obviously shook over it and holds it against the fact she always feels like she’s being used, (‘[...] AND YOU CAN’T KEEP ME TRAPPED ANYMORE!’) she longs for a safe place and to be free just as well just as Pearl does and the freedom to express herself (ie; her art). And who else but Pearl----- *coughcouhgcough*

Differences

I covered this in the first part where it's obvious the two have very vast differences when it comes to their personalities. But I find it important to have differences as both have something to bring to the table with their differences, no? Another essential part of a working couple.

And to quickly cover what I had before, their personalities. Pearl is literal and Lapis is sarcastic, Pearl is outwardly emotional and sobs and Lapis moodily and angrily exists, so on and so forth. How does this work? It’s also one of the hardest parts of their relationship, should they ever try it out because one of their biggest differences, is one of their flaws in a relationship as proven over and over.

Pearl is all give and no take, and Lapis is all take and no give. Which is a mix for a toxic relationship, as Pearl would constantly be giving to Lapis as Pearl’s entire worth as shown in her previous relation was all about what she would give to Rose, or else she was nothing. Even by the end of the main series she still needs to be reminded she’s still something without her. And Lapis’s emotional baggage? Let’s face it, Lapis is selfish and it’s all about her. She’s angry? She’s gonna fuck you up (ie; Jasper and the two Lapis), Lapis doesn’t want to deal with war? She doesn’t even think twice about what Peridot wants, and jumps away despite Steven calling out towards her.

But, but, but, but… It’s also a mix for something amazing as after their development, they’re kind of the perfect people to call each other out. In theory of course should they communicate.

Lapis would teach Pearl to be a little more selfish and care about her own needs, whereas Lapis needs constant reminders to actually take notice about what others want and feel (ex; the way she immediately rushes in and notices Steven’s expression at the last moment). It’s clear that Pearl isn’t willing to be treated that way should Lapis do so (ex; the way she snapped back at Peridot and towards Holly Blue) and Lapis upon caring enough? Is in fact willing to try to do better (ex; Why so blue, and Alone at Sea). It’s just that Lapis is farther behind on maturity (considering she ran away and panics instantly twice in a row). They can strike a perfect balance should they put the effort to do so, which would lead to the possible second problem they might have and would need to work through.

And the second difference the two of them have?

Fusion.

It’s the one trauma Lapis has that Pearl wouldn’t understand, and, it’s something Pearl clearly finds something addicting or to use above others. In fact she needed a crash course on it with the string of episodes of what she did to Garnet. Because Pearl is the kind of person who would desperately try so hard to not repeat the same mistake, she’s probably she’s willing to wait a millennia about it or even be fine with never fusing with Lapis. Because consent is important, but I think because of her actual experience with good and loving fusions? She might not be actually be a bad candidate for helping Lapis should she ever want to try again.

The Biggest Conflict

Now, for the biggest problem of the relationship. Uh, let’s be real here…. Despite all these arguments and nice claims and all.

Lapis doesn’t like Pearl, at all. Perhaps she even holds the biggest grudge against Pearl because Pearl was the one who literally carried her around in the mirror for a good chunk of time, doesn’t even bother to learn who she was, and even was willing to bubble her and trap her further. And Lapis probably has incentive to keep it against her for purely that fact as she was holding it against Peridot for the same fact, except for the fact Pearl has made zero amends to apologize for it. So why would Lapis ever want to talk to her?

You might consider the possibility of Steven but it’s not his job to make them friends. The only thing the two of them would do for him is to pretend to be friends, as shown in ‘Hit the Diamond’ and ‘Gem Harvest’ but otherwise, there’s clear distaste from Lapis’s side (ie; The New Crystal Gems) and her consistent ‘fuck the crystal gems’ attitude from the beginning. Maybe for him they might try something however I doubt it’s enough.

Regardless, I do believe an apology is due on both sides whenever they are ready. And that would be the start of perhaps their romantic relationship shenanigans which I consistently desire. Also I’m a slut for tense relationships to friendship to lovers if people would just---

Anyway I think there’s a lot more material for them to work with and they might actually be a pretty awesome couple

[pricetagofficial]

Ghost -Part Seven

Warnings: Language, angst (lots of it), light bending of cannon

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.3K

Tag List: @kishony-the-geek @idkmanicantenglish @unknowntoanyone @subtleappreciation @catxsnow @spxder-mxns @river-bottom-nightmare @screennamealreadyused @woahjaybird​ @bikoncon​

A/N: There are some more familiar faces here! Maybe a few new ones? 

Rory opened her eyes with a groan, the sedative that Bruce had given her was brutal. It made her body weak and her head hurt. Slowly she sat up and saw that she was in one of the cells they kept in the cave for times they needed to hold someone like her there.

There was a shuffle outside her cell and she looked through the glass panel to see someone she did not recognize.

He was sat in a chair playing a game on his phone while he tapped his foot. From the first observation, she could tell that he was older than Damian but not much younger than herself.

She narrowed her eyes. "Did Bruce take in another stray?"

The person in front of her jumped and looked at her. "Oh, hey you're awake. Bruce wanted someone down here to keep an eye on you and they are all out right now, so I took the job," he explained.

"How long have I been here?" she asked.

"Only about twenty-four hours, he gave you a big dose. Said something about you being dangerous or something." he shrugged and looked back at his game.

"I'm locked in one of these cells, pretty sure that means I'm dangerous to Batman's standards." she snapped.

"Well, dangerous or not I doubt you can get out of this cell," he said, leaning back in his chair.

Rory looked him over. Maybe this kid wasn't so bad. "I like you, what's your name?" she asked.

"Duke, Duke Thomas. You?" he asked.

"Ghost."

"So when you were born, your parents named you Ghost?" he grinned, looking at her again with a smile on his face.

"Yup. It's how all of us assassins are born. Fully grown and equipped with weapons ready to kick ass." she chuckled.

Duke laughed at her comment. "At least you laugh like a human, there was a theory that you were from another planet."

Rory bit her lip to try and keep herself from laughing. Even though she had her mask on still, Duke could see what she was laughing. "Another popular theory is that you are from the future, that's how you kept slipping away."

Rory leaned forward. "I am not an alien, nor am I from the future. Who even came up with those?"

"Jason and Steph," he replied. "But of course, after he met you Jason changed his mind. He's actually been really grumpy since then."

"Well, that's because I shot him in the leg." she chuckled.

Duke laughed at her statement, he couldn't see why the rest of them were on edge around her. So far she made no moves to escape and was holding a pleasant conversation, but then again he was on the opposite side of the glass door. Who knew what Ghost would try to do to him if he pissed her off.

Rory was about to open her mouth to speak once more when a bike pulled into the cave. She held her breath, this was what she was not looking forward to. Dick took off his mask and looked over, his expression neutral upon looking at her.

Yeah, he was still upset with her. What did she expect, that he and Jason were going to forgive her? Rory had a feeling that Roy would forgive her, but she had crossed lines and things weren't going to be the same between them.

"I see you're finally up. Batman has questions to ask you." Dick said.

"You could at least look a little happy to see me, Richard."

"Let's go back to last year and sure, I'd be happy to see you. Ro- Ghost, you've murdered people across the globe. That doesn't just go away." he said.

"Oh, but it goes away for Jason when he slips up or just flat out ignores Bruce's rule. You still accept him." she snapped.

Duke sat in his chair quietly, watching the two of them fight. He might have only been around for six months, but he had never seen Dick snap like that at someone; ever. Not unless they did something to hurt his family. Looking at the girl in the cell once more, the pieces started to click.

Dick knew her, and he knew her well. But what was it she did to make him so upset at her?

Dick clenched his jaw, there were many things he wanted to say to her. Most of them consisted of yelling at her for what she did to Tim, dumping him, and then dropping off the face of the earth. It was something he wasn't ready to forgive her for, and from where he was standing it didn't seem like she regretted it at all.

Rory glared, he might not be able to see her face but it was obvious how she felt. Her body was as stiff as a board and her hands were clenched tightly on the edge of the cot she was sitting on.

Neither of them spoke, only glared at the other leaving a very confused Duke in the middle. Several minutes had passed before he went to open his mouth. "Is anyone hungry? Because I am starving," he asked.

"I would love something to eat, I've been locked in a cell for twenty-four hours. At this point, I would eat anything," Rory said, her gaze not leaving Dick.

Duke quickly got up from his seat and went up to get some food, once he was gone was when Rory spoke again.

"Why don't you tell me what this is really about Grayson? I'm sure there are many things you want to say to me, and nows your chance." she taunted.

"You don't want to know what I have to say, it's not very nice," he said.

"Oh, afraid that you'll make me cry?"

"No, afraid it'll make you change your mind and want to stay."

Rory raised a brow at him. "Why would I want to stay in the hell hole of a city?" she asked.

"The same reason you did the last time, but I am not going to let you hurt my brother again. Not if I have anything to say about it."

There it was. Dick was worried that she had come back for Tim, or at least try to talk to him. Little did he know that that was the last thing she wanted to do. Seeing him in Venice was hard enough, and he was distracted. Rory came to Gotham for one reason, and one reason only. She was going to find Samantha Wilkins and stop her.

"That's not the reason I'm here."

"Then what is?"

The two of them looked behind Dick and saw Bruce walk in, the cape swaying behind him. Damian was off to the side with his arms crossed, looking over at them.

"I was wondering when you would get back Bruce, Dick over here has been keeping me company. Along with that new kid, Duke.  He seems smart, resourceful." she commented, getting to her feet.

"Why are you here?" he asked, his tone stiff and firm. It was clear that he was not going to let up on any of this until he got the answer he wanted.

"Relax Brucie, I'm not here for the reason you think I am. I won't go anywhere near him, I don't want to." she clarified.

Damian's eyes narrowed from across the cave. This situation with Ghost was getting weirder and weirder; she knew their identities and Grayson and his father both seemed to be at least kind of comfortable around her. It was like they knew she wouldn't seriously hurt them, but didn't want to push it anymore than they had.

"Then tell me, why are you here Ghost," Bruce questioned, narrowing his eyes at the girl in front of him.

"That's my business, next question."

"Why were you in Venice?" Dick tried.

"Again, I had no idea he was there." Rory huffed as she began to pace in front of the glass door.

"Why were you in Venice?" Bruce snapped. "There was a League base there, and you were seen inside it. Why were you there?"

Rory stopped pacing and stared at him from where she stood. "Do you really think you can intimidate me?" she laughed. Bruce really thought that he could scare her into talking, but Rory was smarter than that. From all the things she had seen in her life, Batman was not at the top of her list. Hell, Deathstroke no longer scared her anymore. Not after he was locked in Belle Rev Prison and she had almost killed him, it was almost poetic how she had quite literally conquered her fear that night.

The thing Rory feared the most, she couldn't get away from.

"I'm beginning to understand why you locked me in here, and it wasn't for your safety." she grinned. "I was for mine, to make sure none of them or you would try and beat me up for what I did is that right?"

Bruce's glare darkened, she was as smart as he remembered if not smarter. The Rory they all knew a year ago was long gone, she was a completely different person now. It was like she enjoyed seeing the pain on their faces, knowing it was her that had caused it.

"Come on, why don't you let me out? I've learned a few tricks, let's see how long it takes me to kick your ass."

"Why the fuck is she here!?" Jason took off his helmet and stormed over, his face contorted in anger. Rory was the last person he wanted to see, especially in the cave. He had been out of town for the last few days and didn't know that she was in Gotham, but when he saw her white suit from across the cave he got pissed.

"Jason, don't," Dick said, moving to stop his brother.

"Did you forget what she did, what she said to him? Or the fact that she shot me? Does any of this ring a bell in that bird brain of yours?" he asked, knocking Dick on the head with his knuckles.

"No none of us forgot, but this isn't the time for grudges. There's a reason she is here, and the quicker we find that out, the quicker she can leave the city." Dick said, trying his hardest to hold Jason back. He was physically bigger than him and could easily throw Dick over his shoulder if he wanted to.

Damian listened to the whole conversation, looking up when Duke came back with two plates and a sandwich on each. Duke decided it was not a good idea to get tangled up in all of that and thought it was a good idea to wait by Damian. He set the sandwich that Alfred made for Ghost down and began to eat his own, watching as Bruce, Dick, and Jason tried to get answers out of her.

"Do you know who she is?" he asked, leaning over towards Damian.

"I have my suspicions, but I want to wait before I voice it. If I'm right, she's an old friend." Damian said, closing his eyes and dropped his head. "But this one time, I don't want to be right."

"Who you think she must be, was pretty important to all of you then?" Duke asked, taking a bit of his sandwich.

Damian gave him another nod. "Yes, but to no one more than Drake. She was his beloved, and about a year ago now she broke his heart and left. None of us has seen her since."

"What if you're right, will you tell Tim at all?"

Again, Damian shook his head. "It's better he doesn't know what became of her."

"Not to be that guy, but that sounds kind of fucked up. Shouldn't he be the first to know, considering that they were a thing as you said?" Duke asked, his brows raised in confusion.

"You didn't see what had happened after she left. Father brought you in several months later, Thomas. The Manor wasn't the same and we all felt it."

"So why do you think she came back then?"

"An excellent question, but I think I can find the answer." Damian pushed off the wall he was leaning on and walked over to the bat computer and began to type things into it, trying to find what it was Ghost was following that night.

Before she had said that she had business to attend to and that they needed to stay out of her way. What he wanted to know, was what exactly it was that she was doing. Whether Ghost was Rory or not, that didn't change the facts that were laid out in front of them.

She was going around, killing members of the League of Assassins. The ones with links to drug trades, trafficking, and other shipments across the world. Damian had already informed them all of this connection, but things got a little weird when she went to Venice, Italy. Up until that point, she had been hunting ring leaders and not attacking bases.

Drake had gone there to try and get some information, hoping that Ra's was in a good mood and willing to cooperate. He wasn't of course, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that she was there for another reason, but why?

Scanning the footage, the voices of his father and two brothers were drowned out as Duke stood there and watched. Damian's eyes didn't leave the screen, let alone blink afraid that he might miss something if he did. There had to be something that gave her away, there had to be. Watching the footage as he followed her, was when he saw a car. It had been in every shot of his footage and Ghost was going in the same direction.

Tracing the license plate, he found who the car belonged to and tracked the name down. Printing the paper, he grinned to himself and walked over with it held tightly in his hand. Pushing past Jason and Dick, he pressed the picture to the glass.

"Who is Samantha Wilkins and why are you following her?" he asked.

"Where's my food? Duke said he was going to get me something to eat," she answered, looking him dead in the eye.

"You'll get it once you answer the question. Who is Samantha Wilkins and why are you following her?" he asked once more.

"Listen here kid, bring me my food and I might talk. I haven't eaten in over twenty-four hours and I am starting to get a little pissed." she crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one leg with a triumphant look to her stance.

Dick turned to look at Duke and waved him over. "Bring the assassin her sandwich," he called.

"One sandwich for the scary-ass assassin coming up," Duke said and slid it through the flap in the door.

Rory's mouth salivated at the sight of the food in front of her, she went to pick it up when she stopped mid grab. The mask she wore covered her entire face, there was no way she was going to eat and keep it on.

Slowly, she looked to the side and glanced at the people who stood in front of her. Most of them already knew who she was, and if Damian hadn't figured it out yet then he wasn't paying much attention.

"I know who you are Sonnet, just take the damn mask off and eat the sandwich." Damian snapped, crossing his arms and glaring at her.

Rory let out a sigh and unclasped the mask from her face, her vision going from the red of the lenses to the natural coloring of the real world. Her hair was a mess of tangles and loose strands hung in front of her face, as she tried to blow them away.

She looked worse for wear than the last time Dick and Jason saw her. The bags that hung under her eyes were more prominent and, there was no life to her face. Her cheeks were sullen and her lips seemed to be in a permanent frown. This new life she led was kicking her ass and slowly killing her, but Rory wasn't going to stop until the job was done.

Setting the mask to the side, Rory sat on the cot and ate her sandwich. They were all watching her, she could feel their gazes without looking up. After taking a few bites, she let out a sigh. "Samantha Wilkins is my next target," she answered.

"So you're here to kill her?" Dick asked.

Slowly, Rory nodded her head refusing to look up. "Yes, but there is more to it than that. She is more than what she seems, Samantha has ties to the League of Assassins and is not a very nice person." she took another bite. "I have no idea how dangerous she really is, but a person with those kinds of connections is not good."

"So you've been trying to take down the League of Assassins then?" Jason questioned.

Rory stayed quiet, that was only partially true. Yes, that was what she was doing, but it wasn't why she was doing it. It was why she left Gotham in the first place, and it was ironic that it was the reason she came back almost a year later.

"You're not going to answer that one?" he asked.

"You won't like my answer, and the fewer people know the better," she said shortly.

"That's bullshit, you just don't want to tell us." he snapped.

She took a deep breath before finishing her sandwich. "I told you before, there's more to this than either of you know. I can't explain because it would only put a target on your back."

Bruce stood there silently, going over the evidence in his head. Rory was smart, smart enough to avoid them all for a year. If she said that there was more to this than they knew, and it was safer that way. It had to do with the League, but she was the one who started hunting down the League members first.

Or, were they the ones hunting her?

That group of assassins from the night before seemed adamant to take her out, but why?

The sound of two more bikes pulling in snapped them all out of their trance. Every single of them turned to look at Tim pull in with Stephanie behind him and they were laughing about something that had happened.

Hearing his laughter, Rory dove for her mask only knocking it to the floor with a loud clatter. Tim stopped laughing and looked up at the cell, dropping the items he held in his hands.

Everything about her was different, from the color of her hair to the color of her eyes but he would know that look from anywhere. She always had that look about her, she wasn't looking at you or through you even. Her gaze was locked inside you, taking in every bit of information she could as she listened. Looking at her now, how could he have not noticed who she was before?

He had spent the better part of almost three years with her, to the point Tim had her body memorized in his mind's eyes. It was either the time away, or the pain she had left him in that pushed those memories away not wanting to make the connection to protect his heart from her.

Stephanie was frozen in place as she stared at the girl behind the glass and then looked back at Tim who wore the same shocked expression she did.

Tim swallowed and opened his mouth. "Songbird?"