#father glow worm

[gavotte-paradisio]

"Kyoshi Novels as the John Mulaney Tik Tok soundbyte that everyone uses (spoilers ahead)

Have you ever seen a ghost?: Ever seen Father Glow Worm? I was over on the bench: "Yangchen protect me" Yangchen's not here now, I am! I made a salad with craisins!: Eating rodents Hi, my name's Chip Mulaney, and I'm your father: Hi, my name's Kyoshi, your late boss was my father. But sometimes, he would be gay: [Rangshi] Ever been to the goddamn zoo?: Ever been to the goddamn opera? I used to smoke crack!: Kyoshi being embarassed by Kuruk's legacy What's yesterday?: Kyoshi being confused by Lao Ge's philosophical ramblings Shut up, you're all gonna die, street smarts!: Jianzhu poisoning everyone Boom! Orange juice, that's life!: Atuat being Atuat at the party Now I've thrown him off his rhythm!: Yun eating Father Glow Worm Give us some money!: The people harassing Yun when he left the spirit world Stay down on the ground, you motherfucker!: Yun killing a bunch of people

Do my friends hate me, or do I just need to go to sleep?: Kyoshi and Rangi arguing over whether or not to kill Yun But why don't we tell our relatives that I'm a four-year-old boy?: Kyoshi reliving the wrong part of Kuruk's past Do you want me to kill that guy for you?: Lao Ge[/Tieguai]. I am now gross.: [Rangshi] during the final battle with powder and blood on their faces? What's this? (All hail fire lord Chaejin)Peppah! (Kyoshi eats the dirt and it's salt) I'm putting wires into a board filled with holes to move the voices around!: Kyoshi trying and failing to commune with past avatars"

April 11, 2021

Y'all remember this sound's heyday? That was fun.

[creativenicocorner]

WELL! I heard it was SOMEBODY’S birthday today!!! And I’ve been having a lot of Hanazawa Teruki and older brother/weird uncle/father figure Reigen feelings lately ;~~;  <3

So A GIFT!! A silly yet wholesome interaction between Teruki and Reigen from my upcoming Serirei case fic (that still needs an official title but is currently called Glow Worms[working title] in my docs) 

Happy Birthday Teruki you sparkling mad lad you! 

For context: Teruki is getting some last minute ‘hanging out with Reigen time’ the night before Reigen and Serizawa travel four hours away up north for a very curious case (something that may or may not be affecting a small village and plants- I’m sure it’s fine).  This involves last minute packing, movie watching, and   usual shenanigans. 

Edit: You can now read the fic HERE

❧❧❧

Teruki watched Reigen vaguely wander about his apartment, a carryon suitcase, half finished, and open in one of the few walking spaces the studio apartment allowed. 

Teruki fished for another prawn cracker from its bag. “How long is this going to take, Reigen-san?” Teruki considered the cracker, and wondered if he could catch it if he flipped it in the air. 

“Not much longer,” said Reigen distractedly. He was considering a pair of shorts, and whether or not the way the pockets were sewn would make it bulky to fold into his little carryon. Especially if he wanted to bring backup shoes. His old galoshes would have to be replaced. Then again, despite the spring, the temperature would still be chilly where he and Serizawa were heading for their case. Now, if he wore his scarf on the way there tomorrow he wouldn’t have to find a way to fold it into the carryon…

“You shouldn’t have waited until the last minute.” Teruki watched Reigen change his mind on the shorts, while muttering something about jeans.

“Hm,” was Reigen’s only reply.

Teruki frowned. Then watched as Reigen picked up a vibrant red button down that had yellow and brown accented stripes that occasionally dipped into black and pink when those stripes collided. Which wasn’t often. It wasn’t strictly plaid, but an erratic zig-zag idea of plaid. 

While watching as Reigen considered the material between his fingers, Teruki wondered what else Reigen was considering.

Mischief compelled Teruki to theatrically suck air through his teeth and say, “really you’re going with that choice? Pretty bold Reigen-san. I don’t know…”

Finally Reigen looked up. “What do you mean?” 

“Don’t you think it’s much?”

Reigen held the button down defensively to his chest. “There’s nothing much with this.” In fact, he thought it brought out his eyes nicely. 

Teruki shook his bag of prawn crackers while idly considering this. “Alright, maybe not much. I mean I think it’s fine.” Reigen watched as Teruki’s grin grew even wider, “but, I’m just worried for poor Serizawa-san. So used to seeing you in gray.”

Reigen clicked his tongue, glancing away. “So shameless. Rude in my own home,” muttered Reigen, without any real bite. Then paused, and said, with a sincerity that shocked even him, “you think he’ll get seasick or something?”

Teruki threw a pillow at him. 

“Fool!” Reigen fumbled with the pillow. “I was just,” he hesitated then said, “committing to the bit.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Teruki acting the part of a brat. He rested his chin in his palm with a grin. “So was I. It’s a perfectly fine shirt for,” Teruki rolled his other hand vaguely, “whatever it is you have in mind.”

“Thank you,” said Reigen, folding the button down into the carryon with a snooty sort of vindication. He ignored how warm his cheeks were.

“So is this for like, a fancy case? Or is it one of those ‘excuse’ date- I mean cases.”

“It’s a very real, very serious case. That’s going to take us out of the city. In fact, a little farther out than usual.”

“Ah-huh.”

“No, really,” said Reigen dropping his previous airs. “It’s perhaps one of the bigger ones we’ve had yet. People have reported going missing, then coming back as if in a haze. Some report growths. Lights in the wilderness. A spike in insomnia and accidents. Farmers are at risk, just as much as the crops.”

“Oh,” said Teruki, “that does sound pretty serious.” Teruki set the prawn cracker bag on the short excuse of a coffee table. “What if it turns out to be some conspiracy?”

“Then we hand whatever information Serizawa and I managed to gather to the authorities,” said Reigen blandly. 

“Boooooring.”

“Respooooonsiiiiibleeee,” countered Reigen, matching Teruki’s tone despite the deadpan.  

“Do you think it’s dangerous?”

“I don’t know,” Reigen shrugged, genuinely, “anything is possible. But it’d mean quite a lot if we can manage to help them.”

“Weird stuff happening in the deep countryside doesn’t bode well.”

Reigen made a non-comital sound. 

Teruki brightened, “can I come?”

“Tempting, but you have school.” Teruki stuck his tongue out with full teenage abandon. Reigen returned the gesture in kind. “Anyways,” he continued, “we don’t know how long this will take, hence,” he gestured to the carryon before zipping it close and motioning a silent ‘ta-da’.

“FinALLY!” Teruki cheered.

Reigen turned, and allowed a smirk to grow as he put the carryon away, allowing for more space. He then considered rolling out the extra futon. 

It was planned, since they had to leave early in the morning, and Serizawa’s classes weren’t too far from Reigen’s apartment, that it would be practical, and very pragmatic, if Serizawa stayed the night. That way they could leave for the train together. Something any friend would plan with another. It was the Responsible Thing to do. There was nothing deep to think about it, or tack on. Heck it wouldn’t even be the first time Serizawa was spending the night, in a friendly capacity. Or shared a hotel room for economic pragmatism, likewise in a friendly capacity.

But that was all over long periods of time, and the more they got to know each other, and their, well, tentative work-friendship deepened, well…

Reigen could tell he was going to start thinking himself into a spiral. He scrubbed his hand over his face, as if that could rub out or mask in some way the powdered pink hue that was warming over his cheeks. 

The futon set up could wait. 

“So,” huffed Reigen as if about to take on an impossible task, “what movie are we watching tonight.”

Unperturbed by Reigen’s antics, Teruki held up a an old dvd case. One could instantly tell it wasn’t an official dvd, especially with the lack of cover art replaced by a white paper strip that had handwritten the movie title in the sleeve. In short, it was a torrented dvd burned onto a disc.

“Man, you must have dug deep in my collection, kid.” Reigen turned the case over, and read the title handwritten title: Only Yesterday directed by Isao Takahata. "Really? This movie?" He tried not to sound too judgmental, in his genuine curiosity. "I thought you'd want to watch Death Pig: The Screaming Oink, or, something."

Teruki shook his head, "I know, but," he looked at the handwritten title, and shrugged, "I saw a gif of it online and the animation looks nice. And, well..." he trailed off trying to find the right words.

Reigen opened the dvd case, and took out the burned copy. With his head down, he conspicuously slid his eyes over to Teruki who was still struggling to find words. Even bombastic teens had moments of feeling embarrassed. 

“Well,” said Reigen, breaching the hanging silence sympathetically, "there's no harm in branching out."

Teruki lifted his head, and brightened. "Yeah! Thats what I was thinking."

"Though, if I remember the movie right, the pacing is a bit slow."

"I can do slow."

"True."

"And if I, we," Teruki corrected, "really don't like it we can change it." 

Reigen smirked, amused, "Sure, no trouble.” He started the procedure of setting the movie up. “Topical too.”

“Oh?”

“The countryside discussion? The case?” Reminded Reigen.

“Ooh. Right.” Teruki paused then said, “wait there’s farming in this?”

“You didn’t read the summery?”

“Nah, going in blind.”

Reigen shrugged, “respect.”

“So,” said Teruki, a little softer, like when someone was trying very hard to be casual about something that actually held great meaning, “are you going to be gone until the weekend? Longer?”

“Mm, maybe, depends.” 

Teruki willed his jaw not to clench. “On what?”

“How long it takes to ~solve the mystery~” While adding dramatics, Reigen positioned his head so he could watch Teruki from his peripheral. Which was how he was able to spot the slight shoulder slump from the teen.

“…oh.” Teruki tried very hard not to sound disappointed. The result was a strained brittleness. 

“Something up?” Reigen turned from his squat position by the dvd player, and rested his elbows on his knees, “sink blocked? Or something?”

“No!” Teruki was very quick to say. “Everything is fine!!” 

Reigen lifted an eyebrow, and hoisted himself back upright with the help of his hands on his knees. “Yeah?”

“Oh, totally!!!” Reigen walked out of Teruki’s line of sight, much to Teruki’s relief, he wasn’t sure he could handle that appraising deadpan. 

“Don’t you have that, uh, that test coming up?” There was the sound of a terracotta pot being shifted. “What was it in again?”

“Math, so I doubt you can be of much help!!!!” Teruki internally winced at his phrasing. “Cause uh, well,” he tried in vain to backpedal, deflating all the more in the process. 

“Yeah, yeah, liberal arts, whatever. I biffed it trying to help Mob.” Then in a slight barely audible mutter, “not my fault they keep finding weirder ways to do math. Geeze.” 

“Well, you were helpful for that one literature essay,” said Teruki, loyally.

This earned him a small snort from Reigen. “So nothing’s up? School-wise?”

“Nope! Everything is, a-okay.” Teruki finally started to turn around from his seat on the couch, “just what are you doin-”

“Catch,” said Reigen, already throwing the tiny jingling object.

Teruki scrambled to catch the cold little thing. It was only until he looked down at his palm that he realized, “keys?”

“Yep. Spare keys.” 

Teruki stared at the ring of keys in his palm like they were bird’s eggs.

“The one with the blue band is the apartment, orange is the office,” said Reigen, pointing.

“For me?”

“Yeah, kid. And don’t take this lightly! I’m going to need a set of eyes on this place,” Reigen waved his arms in full showmanship, "no telling what could happen.” He paused, then said, far less dramatically, “that and this place stinks if a window isn’t cracked now and again, and I don’t want my plants dying on me by the time I get back.” Reigen poked the top of Teruki’s head, as if to be sure what he said next would truly get past Teruki’s skull, “cause I am coming back.”

“I just,” said Teruki to the keys, hoping he didn’t sound brittle, “never heard of you taking on a case so far away, with no fixed end.” 

Distantly Teruki’s imagination started to fabricate a movie of Reigen and Serizawa, hand in hand, running off together, suitcases packed, never to return. Which Teruki knew was silly. For one the two adults were so blind to the other’s feelings it was painfully comical. Yet some irrational, fearful part inside Teruki scratched the back of his brain, taking the vague form of his parents who were galavanting across the sea who knows where. 

Teruki didn’t have to look up, he could feel the weight of Reigen’s eyes. It was then replaced by a very real weight on the top of Teruki’s head. Reigen was casually using him as an arm rest. 

“Hmm, yeah that is pretty out of the normal,” Reigen nodded, looking at the hanging spider plant that was fixed above the edge of the tv. “Normally I’d happily assume, what, three days? Especially with Serizawa’s skill. But there’s so many particulars about this case. More variables than usual, and a whole lot of land to cover.”

Teruki angled his head lower. “Yeah.”

Reigen shrugged, “if it takes more than two weeks, then I’ll just have to bring in backup.”

Teruki dared to smile. His head tilted up. “Backup?”

Reigen scratched the side of his face, brows pinched together. “Yeah,” he drawled. “Gosh, but who?” Reigen added a pinch more weight onto his impromptu arm rest. 

“Hey!”

“Maybe I can get a hold of Joseph,” said Reigen, now making a point of not looking at Teruki, or his growing smile. “Though it might be last minute.”

Teruki was now fighting against the growing weight on his head, “he chain smokes! It’ll get in the way of your progress!”

Reigen, master of the deadpan, ignored Teruki, “If only I knew someone else, damn I’m drawing a blank here…”

“You’re breaking my spine!!” Teruki laughed. 

“Thats it! I’ll see if Dimple would want to tag along.”

“No! He’ll mock you every time you look at Serizawa-san.”

“Damn. He’d mock me every time I look at Serizawa, huh.”

“At this rate you’ll stunt my growth!”

“If only I knew a blonde shortie.”

“Reigen-san!”

Reigen finally stood up right, though not without ruffling Teruki’s hair, “yeah?”

Teruki half-heartedly batted Reigen’s hand away. Then looked up at him, daring to hope. “You mean it?”

Reigen blinked. “Mean what?” The pained look that flashed across Teruki’s eyes was enough for him to instantly drop his charade. “Yeah kid, I mean it,” he smiled, that crooked endearing smile that was a sliding scale between big-brotherly, caring uncle, and fatherly. 

Teruki gave a sigh of relief.

“And,” continued Reigen, “you can always call me, anytime, you know the spiel. Though don’t get discouraged if I can’t answer right away, the reception is bound to be spotty. I also want to know those test results you know. 

“Even if it’s math?” Teruki teased. 

“Yes,” sighed Reigen in faux exasperation, “even if it’s math. Don’t want you ending up like me. I mean, I can add and multiply and even, uh, minus fast.”

“Minus fast??”

“Subtract. Whatever. The point is, I don’t do trigonometry every time I have to handle the register. No. wait. The real point is, I want you to do well.”

Teruki snorted a laugh, “alright."

“No room for slacking, and all.” 

“I said alright!” It was Teruki’s turn to play faux exasperation. Basking in the normalcy of being a teen being bothered about his grades. 

“Oh, and I mean it with the plants,” Reigen thumbed to his impossible to kill Devil’s Ivy plant, “you gotta promise to treat these mad lads right.”

Teruki cringed at the use of ‘mad lads’, though not with his whole heart. His chest felt lighter, and his smirk was more relaxed. “Yeah. Alright. You can rely on me, Reigen-san."

The way Teruki clutched the keys a little tighter did not go unnoticed. Nor did the way his shoulders seem a little more squared.

“It’s a big responsibility.” Reigen clapped a hand on those slightly more squared shoulders, and said, “think you can handle it?”

Teruki clasped his hand around the set of keys, determined. “Absolutely.” Teruki leaned forward and very purposefully placed the keys on the same ring where he kept his own apartment keys. 

“I’m sure you’ll do well. And I’m sure the plants will thank you for your care”

Teruki gave Reigen a scrutinizing look, “were you planning this? Or did you just realize you forgot you’d need a house sitter?”

Reigen sunk his hands into his pockets, and stuck out his tongue. “I’ll never tell. Now. Scooch.” Reigen pushed Teruki lightly with his foot. “You blonde highlighter of a monster,” said Reigen, though not unkindly.  

“Hey!” Teruki laughed. 

“Oh, just one more thing,” deadpanned Reigen knocking his elbow amicably against Teruki’s, “about the apartment sitting.”

“Yeah?” Teruki imperceptibly leaned forward, anticipating something very important to commit to memory. 

“Don’t throw any wild parties while I’m gone, okay?” Reigen deadpanned. 

The mere idea that Teruki would have considered such a thing made him burst into another set of laughter. Relaxing again. Teruki grinned, and knocked his elbow back against Reigen’s, “no promises.”

“Tsk!! Oooo you shameless brat,” said Reigen, smiling. 

Teruki smiled back, and settled back into the couch feeling a little warmer.

The movie was nice, just as nice and scenic and thoughtful as Reigen had remembered. He was able to stay awake for an unprecedented fifteen minutes before falling asleep.

At some point Reigen felt a set of hands shake his arm. Then a pause, perhaps to consider using an elbow instead, only for the shake to return, a little harder.

“Reigen?” Whispered Teruki. “Reigen-san?”

“Hmm?” Reigen said in ‘I was awake the whole time’ tones.

“Do old people always get this reminiscent about the past?”

“Huh?”

“You know, all this, pensive stuff,” said Teruki gesturing to the screen. The protagonist was laying in a sleeper train cot, staring pensively at the ceiling.

Reigen blinked, then said, “I’ll let you know when I’m older.”

“You’re no use,” tutted Teruki, halfheartedly. His eyes slid back to the screen. There was something about a slow paced film that could be so compelling. 

It wasn’t long until Reigen was compelled back to a doze. 

It wasn’t that he found the movie secretly boring, or he was particularly exhausted (at least not more than the usual),  but that it was all so peaceful. Long stretches of quiet moments, the difference in recording styles between the in-movie’s ‘past’ and ‘present’. But, perhaps, most of all, were the ambient tracks of regional bird calls he hadn’t heard in a long, long time. At the edge of Reigen’s mind, in that hazy space between dream and memory, he thought of biking through a dirt road, shaded by trees older than generations. Bird song filled the air. 

Teruki was far too absorbed to notice Reigen’s light snores. 

It was a near miracle for Reigen to wake up again at all, and yet he managed to wake up, just before the end of the movie. He groaned as he stretched, blearily making out the scene on the screen. The protagonist was talking to the love interest in the car. 

Reigen hoisted himself up to his feet, purposefully noisy, and mumbled about getting a start on dinner. 

This earned him a, “Shh!” from Teruki, who leaned forward as if that would block Reigen out. 

“Tsk, shameless,” said Reigen, though a little quieter. 

❧❧❧

___〆(・∀・)  Thank you for reading! ♡ I hope you enjoyed it! Now, if you’ll excuse me I must go be insufferable to my younger sibling lol happy 4/13!

[hopesangelsprite]

So Anxious

Summary: It's strange, the things you make Illumi feel, so strange that he keeps his distance from you almost constantly. After a long day, though, he can't help but crave that strange, inebriating feeling.

Warnings: heavy petting, whipped/needy/pervy Illumi (possibly OOC), suggested smut, no editing, mentions of death/blood/etc. (yk just normal Illumi tingz).

MINORS/AGELESS ACCS DNI

It wasn't normal for the eldest Zoldyck son to feel fickle emotions such as anxiety or stress. Hell, it was hard for him to feel anything at all, and if his father caught wind of these developing feelings there'd be Hell to pay. That didn't stop the irregular beating of Illumi's heart as he calmly drove a pin deeper into the skull of his latest unlucky target. He was an older fellow and, from what Illumi had read, a crooked politician. That didn't matter to him, of course. The only thing bothering Illumi at the moment were memories of your arms around him, memories of the softness of your skin.

A frustrated growl escaped the slender male's chest as he drove the golden pin deeper than he should've thus ending the poor old man's life. Disgust painted its way across Illumi's features as he staired at the now lifeless corpse below him. He'd meant to keep him around a little bit longer.

"Hm? Dead already? Don't tell me you're losing your touch!", came the grating voice of his killing companion, Hisoka Morrow. Usually, Illumi let his distaste for the brightly colored clown settle in the back of his mind, but today was different. Today, he was high strung and ready to brutally murder the aforementioned male. Illumi directed a particularly sharp pin in Hisoka's general vicinity. "I'll kill you. Right here, right now.", he hissed earning an unfazed stare in return. "You've used that threat too many times for it to be affective.", the clown muttered while kicking the corpse into a nearby body bag, "Seriously, what's gotten into you? You've been acting weird all day and it's creeping me out.".

Illumi glared at the back of Hisoka's head and considered how much effort it'd take to remove it completely. After a second of thought, he deemed it a waste of his time and checked the time on his phone. The numbers '1:38 am' glowed from the screen almost tauntingly. If he was going to make it to your bed tonight, he'd have to leave now.

The dark-haired male looked up and found himself face to face with his mischievous counterpart. After seeing how long he'd stared into his screen, Hisoka could just about read Illumi's mind. "Go ahead then, loverboy, I'll take care of this old geezer. Don't keep your little lady waiting! ~". A nod was all Illumi could muster as he began sprinting back toward the city. Before he was out of earshot, he could make out Hisoka yelling something about meeting you some time in the future.

"Over your dead body.", Illumi thought as he caught sight of the glittering horizon. There was no way Hisoka would ever live to see the day that Illumi would allow something of his to be tainted by his presence.

Ten minutes.

______________________________________________________________

That's how long it took for Illumi to make it to the outside of your windowsill. Now, as he sat perched on the stone ledge jutting out of the building, he wondered if he should just suffer through the night and contact you in the morning. Consideration was another new thing Illumi found himself struggling with after you'd wormed your way into his life.

Just as he prepared to drop from the sill, he caught sight of your silhouette entering the room. His breath caught in his throat as he watched you stretch from behind your silvery curtains. All previous thoughts of leaving exited Illumi's mind and other... explicit ones began to make his head swim with need. Slowly, the assassin brought a bloodied hand to your window and began tapping incessantly. It didn't take long for your figure to still and cautiously approach the window. The closer you got, the more he found himself leaning into the cold glass. If you didn't open it soon, he wouldn't mind breaking in...

To say he wasn't amused at the brief flash of fear in your eyes when you finally got the courage to open your curtains would be a lie. When you finally slowed the beating of your heart and opened the window, Illumi was in the room before the glass was fully open. "I'm home.", he breathed out into the warm, vanilla scented room. You leaned forward a little to shut the window, not missing the blood and earth littering his skin and clothes. "I can see that...", you hummed with an eyeroll, "I almost pushed your ass out of that window.". Illumi let the threat slip through one ear and out the other as he took in your smaller frame. You'd happen to wear those dainty little pajamas he'd bought you not too long ago; the ones with the thin top and shorts just barely long enough to keep you warm at night.

The only thing that should be keeping your warm at night was him.

His eyes followed your figure as you rummaged through your closet for a second. "Here, take these.", you started while throwing him a pair of his joggers and underwear he'd left and directed him toward your bathroom, "I'll be here when you're finished". Illumi stood there for a moment and let his eyes trace your form before stalking off toward the bathroom. The quicker he was clean, the faster he could indulge himself in your presence. He wanted to lie and say that he was using you for some sort of personal gain, wanted to say you were a pawn in one of his many games. He couldn't though... not when he could feel the ice thawing in his chest when you held him close, not when your hands made him as weak as they did.

As the warm water washed the filth from his skin, any traces of the strength his father had instilled in him washed away with it. All thoughts left his mind as he breathed in your scent through clouds of steam.

When he finally finished showering and dressing, he crept toward your room door silently. He watched as you scrolled through your phone unaware of his prying eyes. Suddenly, your eyes met his and you sat up with a smile, curls falling into your face. "Don't just stand there, idiot! Come here and let me take care of you.", you beckoned. One second Illumi was at the edge of your doorframe and the next he was settled between your plush thighs. His eyes closed as you whispered sweet nothings into air while drying his hair with the towel he'd subconsciously brought to you. If you were to kill him now, he wouldn't mind in the slightest. It'd only be fitting considering how weak you'd managed to make him by simply existing.

"I've killed for you... and I'll do it again.", he whispered into your skin. It was a truth he would usually leave unspoken, a truth you'd suspected long before its uttering. "I know, pretty boy, I know.", you hummed softly while tossing the towel into an unknown corner.

"I want to consume you. All of you will be mine and there's nothing you can do to stop me.", he purred as you held his face close to yours and peppered it with cocoa butter scented kisses. "I know, pretty boy, I know.", you breathed just before your lips locked with his.

The kiss lasted a lot longer than the ones he'd dealt you in the past. This one was filled with unsatiable hunger, it was filled with greed. Illumi rose to cage you underneath him and let his lips roam every inch of your skin available to him. He listened to your breathing change, and he knew he had you where he wanted you. Carefully, with lips and teeth etching praises into your neck, he pressed your thighs against your chest and your ankles on his shoulders. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the tinkling sound of the anklets he'd had designed specifically for you and his sweats became too tight for comfort.

Illumi broke away from the intoxicating taste of your skin and sat back to assess the damage he'd caused. You were a sight to behold; brown skin littered with hickeys, unshed tears prickling at your lash line, and clothes barely covering your body. Illumi wanted nothing more than to make those tears fall from your eyes and rid your body of the fabric separating your skin from his. Still, consideration nipped at the back of his mind as he observed the tiredness in your eyes as well. He'd been thinking too long, apparently, because your hands were back on his face pulling him in for another long kiss.

Illumi decided that he'd send you off to sleep with a treat.

A muffled gasp fell from your lips onto his as he snaked a hand between your bodies and began toying with you through your shorts. To his surprise, and delight, they were the only thing between his hand and that sensitive spot he liked to abuse. Illumi drank in the broken whimpers and moans you offered him with unabashed fervor. Soon, his lips wandered blessing his ears with the sweet sounds of your pleas. He found himself licking a long stripe up from the base of your neck to a sensitive spot he'd discovered not too long ago.

Illumi practically purred at the feeling of your nails drawing patterns into the skin of his back that would undoubtedly be left for him to see in the morning. "If anyone ever tries to take you from me, I'll kill them. Mine... all mine.. only mine.", he whispered into ear as he felt your thighs quiver on either side of him, "That's it, sweet thing. Come for me, I know you can do it. Make me proud.". As you came, tears slipping down your cheeks, Illumi almost came undone at the sight.

Curtains of long, raven-colored hair surrounded you, allowing your eyes to be trained on the dark ones peering down at you with a twisted look of love and warmth. As your consciousness slowly ebbed away, the comforting weight of Illumi's body on top of yours lulled you into a sense of security. Illumi watched you fall asleep as he removed his hand from between your thighs and shut his own eyes. He ignored the twitching in his pants as he too lost consciousness. It didn't bother him that he was falling asleep unsatisfied.

He'd simply have his fill of you in the morning.

[spacedace]

Had a dc x dp brain worm, feel free to use as a prompt <3

Sidenote, I decided to get fancy with the Ancients titles because of course I did lol

Shifting Where = Space (Danny)

Eternal When = Time (Clockwork)

Ever Onward = Speedforce (Ellie)

---

Bruce watched the footage again.

And again.

Again.

It didn’t make sense.

A week ago every television, radio, computer, phone - even the LED billboards - had been taken over to deliver a message. Across the United States. In every territory it held. Every military base. Down in the depths of the oceans where American submarines tried to creep past Atlantian patrols. In the endless cold white of Antarctica. Even far above in the International Space Station. Any place the United States Government had control over, any place one of its citizens found themselves. There was the message.

The face of an entity, human in shape but not in form. Hair as gleaming white as starlight, eyes bright as the twisting dance of the Aurora Borealis, skin as cold and blue as the tail of a comet. The entity wore armor as black as the depths of space with a crown to match, the later glinting and shifting with the twisting birth and death of galaxies. A cloak of nebulae danced down his shoulders, eclipsing the world beyond the entity entirely.

He named himself, jaw tight, expression serious.

High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms.

The Shifting Where. Son of the Eternal When. Father of the Ever Onward. His Epitaphs many and ever growing. The True Balance. The Bridge Between. The Devourer of Dark. The Last Child of Between. The Great One.

King of the Dead. King of the Infinite Worlds. King of so much more than Bruce had ever even known was possible.

King who had declared war. Who marshaled his endless armies. Who spoke of warnings, of efforts to reach a peace, of trying again and again and again to find a way to not plunge into violence and bloodshed. All things living come to call him King in time, he had no want or need to go out and hurry that along. But there were no options left to him now. He had tried for peace. He had been denied.

He would not see his people suffer any longer. Would not see those he’d sworn to lead and protect imprisoned by fools who had sworn themselves enemies to all the afterlives. Would no longer permit the vicious cruelty to continue.

The message was a final warning.

A final offer.

Three days, Phantom said. The United States government would have three days to release their prisoners, to begin the process of dismantling the laws that made death itself an illegal act.

If they refused, he would lead his endless armies personally in the war to come.

It had not been an idle threat.

Three days after the message, after Bruce and the rest of the Justice League scrambled to try and figure out just what it was it was all about, after Justice League Dark’s members shakily took turns explaining just how powerful the being that had gave that message was and how much danger the world was in should he and his armies march upon their world, war came.

Of all places, it began in a town in Illinois.

The sky shattered like broken glass above, Lazarus Green beyond, and the Dead poured out.

It started in Illinois.

It did not end there.

Bruce watched the footage of it all, eyes burning as he watched every second of CCTV footage, every shaky phone camera video, every news broadcast.

Most of them looked human enough. Changed in death, but recognizably human once. A pair of glowing teenagers on a motorcycle, a writhing shadow twisting about at their command sweeping chaos upon the battlefield. A young woman dressed to perform with hair a literal flame, burning bright blue and snapping furiously as she played devastation upon her enemies with her guitar. A child with corpse gray skin and luminescent green hair, flickering in and out of Bruce’s ability to see as if fighting against a law of existence to be visible, screaming orders to a skeleton crew from his place on deck of a 1700s ship that sailed through the sky, disappearing into clouds before raining down attacks from above.

There was more. Glowing skeletons dressed in the fashions of war spanning every culture going back millennia. Robots with weapons far beyond the technology they had even in the League. Creatures of myth and legend. Things of nightmares.

Leading them all, as he had promised, was Phantom.

He looked younger, smaller. Just a boy, really, a gangly teenager that hadn’t quite finished growing into himself. One holding power beyond anything Bruce could ever imagine, but still just a child as far as he could see, no older than Tim who’d just graduated high school. Frantic research found Phantom appearing as far back as human history, but those sightings had to have been after his death. Bruce can’t help but wonder how young the boy had been when he died, how much of that youth still clung to him through all these eons.

It wasn’t something he’d let him self consider normally, not with something like this.

A dangerous unknown appearing without warning and attacking with unimaginable power and seemingly endless forces. It was something that would normally eclipse everything else. Something that would make Bruce put aside the ache at seeing a face so young twisted in rage.

But.

He watched all the footage.

Civilians were put in the crossfire. Were shot at and endangered. Were left terrified and scrambling for safety in buildings that were rapidly being torn away by stray artillery.

But never by Phantom or his armies.

The dead, in fact, went very far out of their way to ensure civilians weren’t harmed. Sweeping people up out of the way of falling debris. Shielding them from attacks that would have most certainly killed a normal human. Some dead even helped evacuate, ushering a frightened and panicked populous to safety as gently as they were capable of. Some of the less human creatures - giant bear-like beings with horns and fangs and ice edging their burly frames - even rushed forward to offer medical aid.

When the sky shattered open and the armies of the dead swept in, they ignored the town below. They focused instead on what was discovered later to be the base of a secretive government agency. The dead’s fight focused on those individuals in sharp white suits, bearing weapons capable of actually injuring King Phantom’s people.

It was these agents that brought the fight to the streets to Amity Park. That fired recklessly and without thought or care to the casualties they could inflict. That didn’t seem to care if they killed a hundred civilians if it meant hurting just one of Phantom’s soldiers.

Bruce watched all the footage.

And again.

Again.

Phantom had declared war.

Phantom spoke in his message of being out of options, of attempting peace. Phantom gave three days time for the release of captives. Phantom lead armies who fought viciously but never once willingly harmed civilians.

Phantom declared war, but he didn’t want it.

“Amanda Waller has reached out.”

Bruce didn’t turn his attention from the screens before him, eyes burning as he followed Phantom as the King dove away from the middle of locked combat to shield a child from a pulse of green energy from something like a grenade another agent in white had carelessly thrown. The child was crying but unharmed. The left pauldron of Phantom’s armor cracked and shattered from a direct shot from the enemy he’d just been fighting that he’d turned his back on, a glowing green liquid uncomfortably like Lazarus Water dripped down from a smoldering wound.

Clark stepped up to stand beside him as he watched, face worn and tired. The League had missed the first battle, but they’d been quick to appear at the rest. Phantom and his army ignored them unless they put themselves purposefully in the way of the fight. They were, as Justice League Dark had warned, vastly out powered by the entities fighting. A hulking giant knight made of shadow riding a nightmarish steed had driven Clark six feet down into the dirt when he’d attempted to make his way to Phantom directly to try and talk to the king.

The depth Clark had ended up felt like a warning of what would happen if he tried to get close to the king again.

It probably was.

“She said they have intel for us.” A faint twitch of fingers, jaw clenching, voice flat in that way that told Bruce his old friend was fighting back anger with everything he had. “That she has options for how to deal with the insurgence.”

Bruce shut off the monitors.

He’d seen enough.

Now was time to get answers to just what, exactly, Amanda Waller and the US government had done to cause the Dead to rise and rage.

---

Part Two Part Three Part Four

[bandsofmarv]

Forbidden

In which y/n potter is secretly dating mattheo riddle.

No warnings

The glow of the Gryffindor common room fire danced across the walls as you leaned closer to the parchment on your lap, pretending to focus on your Potions essay. In truth, your mind was elsewhere—on the boy with the dark curls and piercing eyes who had managed to worm his way into your heart. Mattheo Riddle.

It was a dangerous name to whisper, even more so to feel something for him. Yet here you were, sneaking glances at the clock, counting down the minutes until curfew when you’d slip out and meet him.

If Harry knew, he would lose his mind.

Your older brother had always been fiercely protective, but his hatred for Mattheo was on another level. Harry saw him as everything wrong with Slytherin—a cocky, sharp-tongued troublemaker with dangerous connections. And Mattheo’s reputation as Tom Riddle’s son didn’t help.

So you kept the relationship a secret. For now.

————————————————————————

The Astronomy Tower was empty, as usual, when you arrived. The December chill cut through your robes, but before you could shiver, a pair of warm arms wrapped around you from behind.

“You’re late,” Mattheo murmured, his breath tickling your ear.

You grinned and turned to face him. “Had to wait for Harry to stop hovering like a Dementor.”

Mattheo chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent warmth spiraling through you. “The Golden Boy really doesn’t like me, does he?”

“He doesn’t know you,” you countered, reaching up to brush a curl from his forehead. “Not like I do.”

“And he never will if we keep sneaking around like this,” Mattheo said, though there was no real anger in his tone. Only a quiet longing. “Don’t you ever get tired of hiding?”

You hesitated, guilt gnawing at you. “I hate it,” you admitted. “But I can’t hurt Harry like that. He—he’s been through so much. He wouldn’t understand.”

Mattheo’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “For you, I’ll wait. But he’s going to find out eventually.”

It happened sooner than you expected.

You were leaving the library, Mattheo’s hand brushing against yours as you both ducked into a quiet corridor, laughing softly about some joke he had made. Neither of you noticed the figure lurking in the shadows until it was too late.

“What the hell is this?”

The icy tone made your heart drop. You spun around to see Harry standing a few feet away, his wand clutched tightly in his hand, his green eyes blazing with fury.

“Harry, it’s not—” you began, but he cut you off.

“Not what it looks like?” he snapped. “Because it looks like my sister is sneaking around with him.” His glare shifted to Mattheo, who stood his ground, his expression unreadable.

“Harry, please—just listen,” you pleaded.

“Listen to what? That you’ve been lying to me? That you’re sneaking around with Riddle?” Harry’s voice cracked with anger. “Do you have any idea who he is? What his family has done?”

“Harry, I know who he is!” you shot back, your voice rising. “But he’s not his father! He’s not what you think!”

Mattheo stepped forward then, his voice calm but firm. “I love her, Potter.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Love? Don’t you dare talk to me about love. You’re just using her—”

“Stop it!” you yelled, stepping between them. “Mattheo isn’t using me. He cares about me—he’s been there for me in ways you wouldn’t understand.”

Harry’s expression twisted with a mix of hurt and betrayal. “I’m trying to protect you,” he said quietly.

“I don’t need protecting from him,” you replied just as softly.

For a moment, the three of you stood in silence, the tension crackling like electricity. Finally, Harry let out a bitter laugh and turned away. “Do what you want,” he said, his voice cold. “But don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart.”

He walked away, leaving you and Mattheo alone in the corridor.

That night, as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, you wondered if Harry would ever forgive you. But when Mattheo found you the next day, his hand slipping into yours despite the glares from the Gryffindor table, you knew one thing for sure: some things were worth fighting for.

And you weren’t giving him up. Not for anyone.

[d3arapril]

00 PROLOGUE | TOO FAR GONE | P.B

pairing: paige bueckers x female!oc word count: 1k warnings/tags: allusions to cheating? i think that's it for this tbh. remember this is just a prologue - it'll get crazier, freakier and sadder!!!! ᡣ𐭩 better late than never, hey! excited to finally share the start of paige & sydney's story. as always - feedback and reblogs are always appreciated <3 SERIES MASTERLIST | PLAYLIST

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Sydney Moore had an interesting childhood– she had a mother that loved her and a father that only ever seemed to have his best interests in mind. You could argue that it was a standard childhood for most.

She was loved. She had once been loving, too. But somewhere along the way, something shifted. The craving for chaos seeped in, spreading like ink in water, staining the good parts of her.

Sydney met Paige when they were both freshmen at the University of Connecticut. She didn't think much of her, at first. Just another blonde she'd thought when they locked eyes in class for the first time, the blonde's gaze hesitating on her before reluctantly pulling away.

Paige was quick to prove her wrong. The two found comfort in each other despite their differences; Sydney was more reserved, kept her cards held close to her chest whereas Paige was outgoing, open and ambitious. As they grew closer, the athlete would invite Sydney to her practices, to parties, to small get-togethers with friends. Sydney, more often than not, would decline, using excuses like “I need to study” or “I’m not feeling well.” Paige never pushed, only smiled, nodded, and spun away, leaving a soft ache in Sydney’s chest that would never really go away.

Sydney told herself it was better this way—better to keep that distance. Yet, there were moments when she would stand rooted in the hallway, books clutched to her chest and lips curled down in a frown, watching Paige walk away and feeling a gnawing sense of loss that shouldn’t have been there.

She wanted to be around her all the time, yet couldn't bring herself to let her in. Paige was already too close, and it terrified her but she couldn't help but want more.

It remained like this for a while and whilst the girls became closer Paige still couldn't worm her way into Sydney's brain, figure out why she acted so distant.

"Can I ask you something?" Paige had asked her one evening.

They were studying in Sydney's room, orange desk lamp casting a warm glow across the small space. Sydney hesitated, lead of her pencil hovering over the page of her notebook.

"You just did."

"Don't be a smart ass. Come here."

Sydney moved from her seat by her desk to the bed, sitting beside Paige with both of their backs leaning against the wall, feet hanging off of the edge of the bed.

"Is there something going on?" Paige sounded genuinely concerned, voice quiet.

“What do you mean?” Sydney’s voice came out strained. She could feel Paige studying her from the corner of her eye, waiting for her to open up. The thought made her hairs stand on end.

Sydney’s mind raced—memories of her father’s clipped words, of being told emotions were weaknesses, of learning to suppress every raw edge and every vulnerable part of herself. She couldn’t let Paige see the truth, not when it felt like she was barely holding it together.

"I dunno," Paige sighed, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. "You're just not there recently, y'know?"

Sydney swallowed, the taste bitter. The light in the room felt like it was dimming and she felt like the walls were closing in on her.

"I'm fine."

Their relationship evolved in fragments— moments where Sydney would let her guard down, just enough for Paige to think she was making progress, only for Sydney to retreat behind her walls again. And despite it all, Paige stayed. She stayed through the disappearances, the late night calls, the way Sydney’s affection often felt like a push and pull that left her dizzy.

Sydney grew to like it this way. She found a twisted comfort in knowing that no matter what, Paige would be there. She'd sacrifice everything for her if she had to, she was sure of it.

The thought alone awoke a part of her she didn't even know existed.

two years later

"Have you spoken to Sydney recently?" Paige had asked Aubrey, fingers mindlessly running through the small knots in her ponytail. They'd just finished a late night practice and the remainder of the team had already filtered off of the court, ready to end the day.

Aubrey raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing as she looked at the blonde. "Why would I speak to her? Have you?" she stepped forward, trainers squeaking against the hardwood of the court. An accusatory finger dug into Paige's shoulder. "Bueckers?!"

Paige brushed her off, kissing her teeth. "Nah, 'course not. Forget I asked."

Since that evening in Sydney's room two years ago, something changed. She didn't become more open with her feelings but instead she became more affectionate, much to Paige's surprise. They would spend most nights together wrapped up in each other with no conversation about what they were; where they both stood.

It became too much for Paige, the uncertainty of their situation, the way it ate away everything she did. Her grades were slipping and her performance on the court was mediocre at best.

She pulled away from Sydney, despite her iron grip.

She'd known, deep down, that it wasn't going to be easy. What she hadn't expected was the sudden lack of air in her lungs, the way her head swam, the ache in her chest. She carried on, though. Carried on with her life, got her grades back up and soon shot up to become one of UCONN's best.

"What're you guys doing out here?" a familiar voice echoed through the gymnasium- Azzi.

Paige and Azzi had met one year after she had met Sydney. They were just team mates for a long time, but as Paige started to become more worn down from Sydney, Azzi was the shoulder she cried on. Their relationship blossomed and whilst they weren't official, they were definitely something.

Azzi brought a sense of peace to Paige's life that she hadn't felt in a long time but she couldn't help but crave more.

"We were just leaving." Paige sends a half smile in Azzi's direction. She beams back, pearly whites on show.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Jus' tired."

Azzi threw an arm over her shoulder as they both strolled off the court. Paige could feel Aubrey's gaze searing through the back of her head, burning into her. She felt guilty as Azzi rubbed a hand up and down her bicep, giving it an affectionate squeeze.

She felt guilty as she pulled her phone from her gym bag, lowering the brightness subconsciously. She felt guilty as she kissed Azzi on the forehead and promised she'd be over as soon as she was done running an errand.

She felt guilty as she told Sydney she was on her way to her.

[skullwaffles]

scooped mike.. tell me more...

OKAY OKAY!!! So GORE WARNING ⚠️ (no color but description is kinda grody but this is fnaf)

ALSO THIN unhealthybody warning (he is a rotting corpse so he doesnt have much of his fat left :( )

This is my shitty little reference sheet!

LORE OF REFERENCE UNDER CUT::

Micheal was scooped for two years before Ennard was ejected. And he didnt really have much memroy from that time, but Henry and him had had a fight before he was scooped, so when Micheal didnt return home, Henry thought it was because of that.

so, Micheal returns to Henry’s and is like, ‘please help, this happened.’ And Henry is partially mad at him for looking for his father, but he pushes that aside and helps mumify micheal.

In this process, Henry and Micheal grave dig up a freshly buried hody and Henry feels horrible about it, but he uses skin feom this body to help repair Micheal.

They also find out that the remnant has caused Micheals nerves to grow over some of the left over metal in his body, but they find this out when Henry tries to REMOVE the metal.

So within a couple years Micheal gets feeling in his new skin. And some parts of himself repair, but other parts are still just really scarred and damaged.. And he is also mostly cleaned out of the rotten bits. (It was not comfortable at all.

Little fun facts:

He is also like missing most of his left leg, and it is mainly a mix of metal and bone. So he uses a cane.

He also most of the time in pain, he cant eat, but has oral fixation so he chronicaly chews gum. There is also a piece of gum in his cavity that his nerves grew onto and it is now him.

Some parts of Micheal were just replaced with animatronic bits. He somehow still has his voice, doesn’t make sense why.

Sometimes he breathes out of habit.

The remnant in him works like worm blood in which it is just kind of all over in his body. (Its called open circulation) and I like the headcanon that it glows so it does.

The wigs are sewed on his scalp! So poor Henry had to cut the old costume ‘sinister bob’ wig off..

If you have any more questions let me know!

this is him getting scooped! 💜

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Summary: Eddie's guard is back up after overhearing people gossiping about a secret that only you would know about. When he lets his animosity take over, the damage may be too great to repair.

Warnings: angst, Eddie is really mean to Reader, mentions of CPS, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's, slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 3.7k

Chapter 4/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie is still fuming when he pulls into the music store’s parking lot. He’s opening today, and his hands tremble as he fumbles with the keys. All of those parents are going to know that he’s a failure of a father.  The Munson reputation clung to him like a bloodsucking leech, regardless of his numerous attempts to shed it. He’s destined to be an outcast at best and a monster at worst. 

Finally managing to unlock the door, Eddie flicks on the lights, blanketing the shop in a hazy glow. The silence is deafening, and he swears that his brain will implode if he doesn’t get some background noise. He walks to the section labeled ‘METAL’ as if on autopilot, grabbing Metallica’s Master of Puppets and shoving the cassette into the player. Ash insists that they play classic rock over the crummy little sound system; something about it being ‘palatable’ for the customers, but she’s not here to scold him. 

He thinks back to when this album was released, towards the end of his third senior year. The good ol’ days, when I only worried about passing O’Donnell’s class and planning Hellfire campaigns, he thinks wryly. But, no; that isn’t quite true. He’d had to worry about the trailer getting repo’d, or whether he and Wayne could stretch their food stamp budget enough to feed two grown men. Concerns that his uncle had tried to hide from him until he no longer could. 

“Ed, you’re eighteen now,” Wayne had said, just one month after Eddie’s birthday, “and I’m gonna need you to start payin’ some bills around here.”

At the time, Eddie thought he was just being a bastard. It wasn’t until a few days later when he’d spotted the envelope marked PAST DUE in bold, red letters that he realized it wasn’t a punishment, but a necessity. 

He’d been selling for Rick ever since. Well, until now. 

“Battery” fades out to “Master of Puppets,” and Eddie flips the CLOSED sign to read OPEN. He glances at the calluses on his hands and smiles sadly, thinking of all the hours he spent learning the chords in his room. After weeks of non-stop practicing—Hetfield’s solo was a bitch—he’d raced down to Gareth’s garage and played all eight minutes straight through. Watched as his friends’ jaws dropped in awe. Gave him a standing ovation. Told him he was a fucking rockstar. 

“You’re a rockstar, all right,” Eddie sarcastically grumbles now, clanging a roll of pennies against the counter before dumping them into the till. “Getting ready to drop your new hit single: Do you want a receipt with that?”

His morning has been nothing short of monotonous: help the customer find what they want, ring them up and make small talk, and then organize (or, in his case, pretend to organize) the store when it’s not busy. 

There’s too much down time for him to be left alone with his thoughts. As soon as he has a moment to himself, he’s ruminating on his regrets of the past. He turns up the music volume in a half-hearted attempt to drown them out, but they manage to worm their way into every nook and cranny of his brain. 

Eight years ago, a twenty-two year old Eddie Munson left his podunk town of Hawkins, Indiana to pursue rock stardom. He’d driven to Chicago with only the pocket change he’d saved up and his guitar on his back. A big city for a man with even bigger dreams. 

It didn’t take him long to realize that being Eddie Munson meant next to nothing in a place that was bursting with musicians desperate for the chance to become famous. He appreciated the anonymity at first; he could blend in without being chased by taunts of Freak or Loser. But after nearly a full year of auditions where he was just another guitarist who could carry a tune, he’d started to lose hope. Prepared to return to Hawkins with his tail between his legs, he’d stopped at the nearby bar for one last drink. 

“We can’t go on without a lead singer and guitarist!”

A frantic voice captured his attention, drawing his gaze from the pint of beer in front of him. 

“Well, Sam bailed. Again,” another man points out, tone heavy with irritation. “So either we go on without him, or we don’t go on at all.”

Eddie finds himself standing up and walking into a conversation where he was never invited. “I, um, play guitar. And sing?” He winces as it comes out like a question. “I can show you, if you want.” What was he doing? He couldn’t line up a gig to save his life, and now he’s offering to play for some band he doesn’t even know?

The two guys, both about his age, exchange a dubious look. “All right,” says one with shaggy dark hair. “Let’s hear what you got, Guitar Boy.” He hands him his own guitar, and Eddie adjusts the strap before diving headfirst into the chorus of the first song that comes to mind:

If you think I'll sit around as the world goes by You're thinkin' like a fool 'cause it's a case of do or die Out there is a fortune waitin' to be had You think I'll let it go you're mad You've got another thing comin'

The other guy cocks his head, a delighted smirk spreading across his face. “Judas Priest. Solid choice.” He paces a bit, twirling a drumstick between his fingers. You got a name, Guitar Boy?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Eddie Munson.” He sticks out his hand, silently willing it to stop trembling, and shakes theirs.

“I’m Marcus,” the shaggy-haired man says. “This is Bryan. I play backup guitar; he’s on drums. Our bassist should be here soon; his name’s Pete.”

“And Sam was our lead guitarist and singer, but he’s a fucking asshole,” Bryan quips, and Eddie chortles at his brazen attitude. “Anyway, we mostly do covers…check out the setlist and see what you know.” He hands Eddie a crumpled piece of paper, filled with familiar songs and artists.

“I can do any of these,” Eddie says, a satisfied warmth filling his chest as he watches the guys grin even wider.  

“Tell ya what,” Bryan says, plopping behind a drum set plastered with a logo reading Hard Knox. “If you don’t suck tonight, you can play with us permanently.”

“Yeah,” Marcus agrees. “We’re gonna be big, man. We just need someone to help us get there.”

“Let me run back to my place and grab my ax,” Eddie tells them, adrenaline propelling him to his apartment. This was it. This was the break he needed. Just as he was about to give up, God or fate or destiny or whoever was finally giving him a chance to prove himself.

The show went off without a hitch; Eddie’s guitar skills bringing a normally quiet audience to their feet. Bryan clapped him on the back as he looked at Pete and Marcus; the three nodding at each other. “Welcome to Hard Knox!” he announced.

“Sam leaving was the best thing to happen to us,” Pete laughs in agreement. A bartender in a tight skirt and fishnet stockings brings over a round of shots, and the four men clink glasses.

“Fuck Sam!” Eddie shouts before taking the drink. The tequila burns as it coats his throat, but he doesn’t dare reach for the lime. No, he has something to prove.

“Fuck Sam!” the rest of the band echoes enthusiastically. Their choral response reminds Eddie of the way Corroded Coffin used to be before he’d left: when he’d say something, Jeff, Gareth, and Danny would listen. He was born to be a leader.

Things started to fall into place. His one night endeavor with Hard Knox turned into a biweekly gig at the bar, which eventually turned into shows almost every night at various venues across the city. He’d even convinced the guys to play some original work of his, reminding them that cover bands don’t get record deals. 

He had a steady income. A group of friends who appreciated him and his music. Beautiful women who eagerly threw themselves at him at the end of the show. And then it would repeat the following night in a new place. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

Last night’s chaos has you all disheveled; it wasn’t until you got to work this morning that you realized you hadn’t even packed your lunch. You try to convince yourself that you can wait until you get home to eat, but about fifteen minutes before your break, your stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud growl.

“I’m gonna run to the deli and grab something,” you tell Will, throwing your jacket over your shoulders and digging out your car keys. “Want me to pick up anything for you?”

“Uh, Tylenol?” he grimaces, rubbing his temples. The kids had music class today, and the sounds of ten preschoolers singing off-key combined with their clashing tambourines served as a recipe for a pounding headache. “And maybe a bag of sour cream and onion chips?”

“You got it.” You shoot him a thumbs-up as you make your way to the parking lot as quickly as possible, determined to get your food before the lunch rush starts.

You manage to just beat out the crowd of hungry nine-to-fivers, grabbing a veggie wrap to-go. Crunching on a cucumber slice as you take a big bite, you start back towards your car, but the music store next door catches your eye.

A check of your watch confirms that you have a few minutes to peruse, maybe grab a copy of the new Toni Braxton cassette you’d been wanting. If there was ever a day to treat yourself to a little gift, it’s today. Your mind is foggy and your body feels like it’s dragging sandbags as you make your way over. You knew that taking care of an ailing relative would be physically demanding, but you weren’t prepared for the emotional toll it would take. Seeing your grandma helplessly laying on the bathroom floor scared drew all of the oxygen from your lungs, filling your body with worry. And just a few hours later, she was furiously swearing at you, claiming to hate you. She’s an ever-swinging pendulum, and you’re downright exhausted.

A small glob of hummus lands on your lower lip, and your tongue licks it off haphazardly as you push open the door to the music store. The jingle of the bell is meant to alert the employees that a customer has entered, but when you look around, there’s no one there to help you.

You walk towards the aisle labeled R&B, starting by thumbing through the “B” section–nothing. Perplexed, you make your way to the “T” section, still with no luck. Was Toni Braxton so popular amongst Hawkins residents that they’d bought out every copy of Secrets?

“You can’t eat in here,” a terse voice calls out. You’re so startled, you nearly drop your sandwich. A piece of tomato flies out of the tortilla when you jump, hitting the linoleum flooring, and the irritated person sighs. “Aaand this is why.”

You pick up the fallen vegetable and turn around to see Eddie Munson standing before you. “You scared me!” you say, but your body visibly relaxes. Twenty-four hours ago, you never would have guessed that he would have a calming effect on you. How quickly things can change, you muse silently. “Can you help me find the new Toni Braxton? The Secrets cassette?”

Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can you follow simple instructions? No. Eating. In. The. Store.” He rolls his eyes. “Just because you teach preschoolers doesn’t mean you get to act like one.”

The smile that briefly danced across your lips slips into a frown. What the hell happened in the few hours since he’d dropped Harris off at school? Did you imagine that you two had gotten along?

��Are you okay?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion. “I-I can put the wrap in my car, just give me a sec…”

He shakes his head. “No, actually, I’m not okay,” he sneers. “But I bet you knew that already.” He shifts his posture so he’s standing a bit taller. “Y’know, you have some fuckin’ nerve, coming in here after what you did.”

“Did I miss something?” Your voice gets smaller with the gnawing feeling of brewing confrontation acting as a brick on your chest. “I thought–”

“Tell me what you thought,” he interrupts, leaning on a box of tapes. “Wait, no; let me guess. You thought that because I rejected you, you could go around blabbing my personal business around the school.” He scrunches up his face, biting his lip as he looks at you. “Did I get it right?”

“Your personal business?” 

“Mhm,” he answers pointedly, spinning a skull ring around his finger. “Is that not it? Was it because you were embarrassed that I heard your grandma say that she hates you? I don’t blame her, by the way.”

Your force your gaze to remain trained on him, staring into his brown eyes that have hardened with fury. “She doesn’t hate me,” you breathe out, “she just can’t remember me anymore. When she knew who I was, she loved me. A lot.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t take away from the fact that everyone and their goddamn dog knows about the CPS report.” 

“What CPS report?” you ask, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach. “Is Harris okay?”

He takes one look at your puzzled expression and barks out a harsh, incredulous laugh. “Seriously? You can drop the innocent act.”

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about!” you snap, frustrated at his unwillingness to hear you out and your own lack of understanding. “All I know is that this morning, you didn’t hate me–or maybe just hated me a little less–and now you’re back to being the worst human being I’ve ever met.”

Eddie scratches at the shadow of a beard that’s formed on his jawline; an itchy reminder that he didn’t get to shave last night. “You should consider yourself lucky if I’m the worst person you’ve ever met. Tell me, what have I done? Thrown some insults your way?” He claps his palm to his chest exaggeratedly. “How ever did you survive?”

“Mock me and my teaching skills, pretend like you’re going to call when you knew damn well that you weren’t, call me a bitch, and your latest and greatest,” you counter, ticking off the instances on your fingers, “accuse me of something I didn’t do.”

He considers this for a moment, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “So you’re trying to tell me,” he starts, gritting his teeth, “that we were in the same wing of the same hospital at the same time, but you weren’t the one who told people about the CPS case they opened on me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” you hiss. 

“Then how the fuck did Carol Perkins find out about it?!” His volume raises to a roar, and you wince at the sting it leaves echoing in your eardrums. “Because I fucking heard her talking about it with Steve Harrington! So if you, the person who was there, didn’t open your mouth and tell her, who did? The CPS fairy?”

“I don’t fucking know!” you shout, swallowing thickly in a meager attempt to bide time before the tears inevitably leak from your eyes. “I don’t know, but it wasn’t me.”

Eddie rakes a hand through his frizzy curls, smacking the other on top of the nearby box. “Just…just get out,” he mutters. “I can’t listen to any more of your bullshit.” He starts back towards a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY before turning back around, eyes narrowed. 

“Y’know, I wouldn’t have hooked up with you that night if I knew that this is how you handle a one-night stand,” he says, pursing his lips as he steps closer to you. “And I never should’ve let Harris step foot in your classroom. I would drive him to a school in goddamn Timbuktu if it meant having you out of my life.” He pauses, scraping his teeth across his lower lip and exhaling a terse laugh. “It’s too bad I can’t forget about you like your grandma did.”

The words knock the wind out of your lungs. Your knees buckle slightly, and you have to steady yourself on the closest shelf. Tears blur your vision as your legs carry you out of the store; you feel yourself walking, but it’s like an external force has control of your body. The words fuck you sit on the tip of your tongue, or maybe you say them—it’s too hazy to tell. The world is covered in a shiny layer of cellophane; you can see everything, but you can’t touch. 

You’re crying too hard to drive, so you sit behind the wheel, seatbelt clicked in place, letting out sobs that leave your whole body shuddering. It’s all too much, and though you logically know that Grandma didn’t want to forget you, his comment hit a raw nerve.

It wasn’t a straight path; Alzheimer’s never is. A few months ago, she could remember you in the morning but forgot you by the afternoon. She would call you by name at 9 AM but ask who you were at 2 PM. One day you were her granddaughter; the next, you were a total stranger. You thought it couldn’t hurt more than it already did, but the repeated reminders that she no longer recognizes you at all is a constant knife through the heart.

You’ll be late if you don’t start driving back to work now, so you turn the key in the ignition and adjust the gear shift to reverse. As you look up to glance in the rearview mirror, you catch sight of him. He’s dumbfounded, and you could laugh at how ridiculous it is that it took him seeing you bawling in your car to realize that he went too far this time.

Unable to stomach the thought of further confrontation, you take a deep breath and drive away, leaving him to mull over what just happened.

He’d assumed you’d left already when he’d walked outside for a smoke break, placing a cigarette between trembling fingers before he’d even left the store. He almost drops the lighter on his scuffed sneaker when he sees you hunched over, resting your arms on the wheel as your body heaves. He’s not sure how long he’s been staring when you lift your head, exposing tear-streaked cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. Your gazes lock for just a millisecond, but it tells him everything he needs to know. 

It wasn’t you.

When Eddie arrives at the school for pick-up, he scours the crowd of impatient parents for Carol. He finds her talking with another mom; no doubt spreading more gossip about him. Maybe he shouldn’t have pretended that their Satanic cult rumors didn’t bother him when they were back in high school. Maybe if they knew, they would understand that he’s just a goddamn person trying his best, just like everyone else.

“Hey,” he starts, pushing the fear from his voice and willing his strength to remain unwavering. “Who told you about the CPS stuff?”

Carol plasters an obviously fake smile on her face as she responds. “I don’t know what you mean,” she says simply. Her carefree tone pushes Eddie to his limit. 

“Cut the bullshit,” Eddie growls, quickly losing his temper. “I heard you talking to Steve Harrington about it. So either you tell me now, or I’ll make sure your husband knows about that guy I saw you with at the Hideout a couple of months ago.”

Her face blanches, color draining from her cheeks. “It was Jason Carver,” she mumbles, biting her thumbnail. “His wife, Chrissy, is a nurse at the hospital and saw the report. She told him, and he’s been telling, well, everyone else.”

Eddie swears that steam is billowing out of his ears. Everything is coated in a red haze, and he finds himself unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists. “Where is that sonofabitch? I’m gonna punch him in his smug little–”

“Mr. Munson?” you cut through his rant. His head snaps in your direction. You’ve fixed your makeup; if Eddie hadn’t seen you crying earlier, he would’ve been none the wiser. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Y-Yeah,” he stammers, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet. “Actually, I needed to tell you someth–”

“I think you’ve said enough today,” you say, voice calm but firm. “I just wanted to give this to you before Harris comes out.” You hand him a pink piece of paper. “It’s a transfer slip. Starting next week, Harris will be in Ms. Marion’s class. I didn’t tell him anything about it, so you can say whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.” That’s not quite true; the idea of Eddie feeding Harris lies about you makes your stomach curdle, but there’s only so much you can control. 

Eddie’s, usually quick with a retort, is uncharacteristically quiet. “I, um, I thought…the secretary told me that all of the classes were full.” It’s a cop-out, but he can’t push himself to tell you what he knows now. Not when you’re already bruised. 

“They made an exception because I was the one who requested it this time,” you explain, clenching your jaw. “Looks like you got your wish. You can forget about me now.”

He takes the paper and shoves it in his back pocket. The confession is on the tip of his tongue, an apology not far behind. Say it, he berates himself. Just fucking say it. You might be able to fix this if you just—

“I’ll go get Harris,” you tell him, breaking into his thoughts. “Good-bye, Mr. Munson.”

--

taglist:

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[whatifitookalilnap]

Headcanon that every single Avatar is so thankful they did not deal with each other’s issues:

Korra during the weekly trauma dumping sesh with her past lives: okay, wait, I’m sorry, you were casually fist fighting FUCKING SPIRITS FIFTY TIMES YOUR SIZE?!?!

Kuruk, cheerfully: yup! Lead to a super short and painful life too!

Korra, groaning with her head in her hands: man, I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that Aang was fighting an entire war at twelve. Like, how did he not die?!?!

Aang, laughing: oh, they tried! A lot! They tried a lot!

Korra: and didn’t Kyoshi see her father figure get killed before her very eyes?!?!

Kyoshi, nodding: yup! Gnarly shit.

Korra, absolutely horrified: that is so fucked up. I would hate to be literally anyone of you, even though I technically am

Aang, nodding: yeah, we all feel the same way about each other. If it makes you feel any better, if I was the one that had to face Vaatu, I’d probably have gone into a coma

Kyoshi, snorting: oh hell, and trying to fight a guy that could take people’s bending away at seventeen??? I’d have hired an assassin or some shit there’s no way

Kuruk: ugh, my least favorite Korra villain was the red lotus jackasses. How much of a hater do you have to be to kill a girl AND all her past lives AND stop her from being reincarnated??? And I thought father glow worm was a jerk

Korra: being the Avatar is so overrated

Aang, Kyoshi, and Kuruk: agreed

[chunkitakii]

The Brother From The Portal

Portal! Stanley Pines x Reader

This was written a LONG time ago. So I thought I should post this.

ALSO, this will be the first time that I write (Y/N)...Might regret later…

Read it on AO3!

Summary: You are Ford's assistant; you find out from Dipper and Mabel that Ford has an unknown brother, so you go and find out by opening a portal; you then meet the one and only Stanley Pines. (I hate writing summaries...)

So what if Stanley was the one who was portaled instead of Ford? Now hear me out on this…

The house had begun to glow in a blue glow once again. Everything began to lift from the ground as if gravity had reversed. Objects had begun to lift, almost hitting you in the face multiple times. It didn’t make it any better considering you, Ford, Dipper and Mabel, were trapped in the basement in which was found with much unused junk.

What had caused this mess was something you didn’t have on your bingo-card for today, scratch that, EVER. Ford had apparently built a portal in his younger days, which caused him to lose his brother within it. He didn’t talk much about his brother. Hell, we all didn't even know he had a brother until now. You knew Ford most of your life, and not one bit did he mention about this brother. 

You were Ford’s assistant, helping him to figure out the many mysteries of Gravity Falls. The two of you had gotten along very well, he was like a father figure to you. The two of you talked about everything, but apparently not everything.

This all had started when Dipper and Mabel found many documents and notes in a secret room within the cabin. They didn’t say when or how. After such, they had come rushing into the kitchen where you were located, their faces held in shock and confusion, they wanted to get to the bottom of this. You were just trying to fix Ford’s messed up formula in the living room as he was gone to look for “mysterious mushrooms” in the forest behind the cabin.

“Quick! Look! Grunkle Ford has a secret brother!” Dipper shouted, shoving the many documents and notes into your face. You didn’t have any time to apprehend it either. You had noticed a picture on the document containing a room that didn’t feel familiar to you. It was dark and cramped with all sorts of mysterious items. Could that be the bottom level of the basement? 

Dipper explained the notes that were underneath the photo. He had explained that back in 19-something something, he had built a portal to different dimensions. This had brought a fight against Ford and his brother, causing the accident. You could tell it made both of the small twins anxious and sad. 

They believed that if they turned the machine back on, it would bring his brother back and from his misery. Ford was…well, not stupid, but ignorant to leave blueprints and directions to turn the portal back on. But the twins didn’t find enough information that Ford was ever going to bring him back. It saddened both of them. It even crossed their minds; if one of them were to be stuck in a portal, they wouldn’t hesitate to bring them back. So why wouldn’t their grunkle Ford?

The thought of going into the basement made you shiver. You had never, and you mean never, stepped foot into Ford’s basement. He would always tell you, “There are things that you could not see, and this was one of them.” So, you didn't go in there or even question it. You didn’t want to upset your boss; you did that once, and you won't do it again. Buttt you so happened to know the password on the vending machine that had led to the basement after seeing him go in there a couple of times. Now you felt more curious to know what was going on.

Mabel had practically dragged you up from your seat to stop what you were doing. She had almost made you spill the acids of unknown substances on the table. 

“We have to help him out of there! Who knows what aliens or giant brain-eating worms he’s fighting against!” She repeatedly shouted, knowing that this mysterious man is somewhere out there alone. Both you and Dipper were too eager to find out what was in the bottom of the basement than to realise what Mabel had just said. 

You three ran towards the ”vending machine” and pressed the right buttons into the machine without hesitation. You didn't know this mysterious man in the portal, but you were also curious. And also worried for his well-being in the portal.

 Oh man, you’ll probably die by a portal disaster or by Ford’s hand…

“Mabel, press the button, I beg of you!” Ford had pleaded, trying to reach out for Mabel. But he was stuck in between the floating desks that so happened to pin him in the air.“You don't know the possibilities of the portal unleashing danger into our world!” Ford continued, but his voice was muffled by the noises of the machine. Dipper and you were located by each side of Ford. Dipper was hanging on by a metal pipe, keeping him from floating away. You, however, were aimlessly floating in the air. Slowly levitating upwards. 

Dipper didn’t know what to think of the situation. At first, he had wanted to find out what was the mystery behind Ford’s brother. Then, he had listened to Ford explain the dangers of opening the portal back up again. It sort of explained why he didn’t open it back up to save his brother. 

But if Ford had something to say against it, Dipper would second guess himself before siding with his great uncle. 

“Mabel, just shut it off!” Dipper shouted at Mabel, hoping that she would listen. His anxiety had grown by the second, wishing that the end of the world wouldn’t commence.

But Mabel knew for a fact that her uncle was somewhere in the universe. She also knew that in the documents Ford had made, he showed no signs of bringing his brother back. To her, it had felt like he had shown no remorse. Mabel didn't know this mysterious uncle, but she knew the feeling of being alone. She wouldn’t even wish it on her worst enemy.

Then again, she would listen to her Grunkle Ford. He knew about this stuff more than her and her brother combined, and if he says to shut it down and that there will be many dangers with leaving the portal on, she will do it.

As she reached below her floating body to press the button, she looked at you. Her worried eyes looked back at yours, hoping you would give her some reassurance. You were like a close friend to her, you would be the third person she would listen to; her parents and her great uncle being the first two. If you had anything to say against shutting it down, Mabel wouldn’t know what to do.

As her eyes looked at yours, Mabel saw the look of unease that took hold of your facial features. You didn’t know what answer to give her. 

A “yes, shut it down and leave this man out in the many and dangerous dimensions alone.” 

Or a “no, and possibly let in many unknown dangers into our dimension but bring the man home.”

You were too confused for your well-being and also scared. You looked away from her glossy eyes to stare down somewhere else. You then gave her a slow and short nod, not wanting to look up at her face. You knew she would be upset, so you couldn’t bear to see her down.

A sad look came onto her face, knowing that the majority rule wins. She sighed, “Okay, I trust you, Grunkle Ford.” Mabel sighed out, reaching towards the button that will end this madness once and for all. But before she could, the portal then flashed a bright light. Seeing this, you quickly floated to Mabel to protect her from what has yet to happen. Shielding her from the portal behind her.

Everything around you was no longer seen, just a bright, agonizing light. It didn't feel painful, but it didn’t feel comfortable. The four of you screamed and yelled at the top of your lungs, giving up your last cries. 

But as your surroundings become nothing but a white light, it quickly vanished. The floating objects fell, and the light had dimmed until there was none at all. Everyone's body had fallen onto the ground, causing a sequence of groans. Your body breaks Mabel’s fall, which had made you much heavier and caused you to land much harsher. You felt gravity pull you and slam you into the ground below; you swore you had just now broken something. The unsettling cracking sound said so.

After a few moments, everyone sat back up and collected themselves. Mabel had sat up and off of you, bringing a hand out for you to lift you up. As you tried to reach up to accept her hand, you felt a sharp pain in your shoulder. You let out a sharp hiss of pain, and you reach your other arm to wrap around it in pain. Mabel quickly ran behind you to lift you up from your back. Lightly pushing you up, careful not to hurt you even more.Ford had used his last strength to push the two desks, which had been pinning him down, away from him. He let out a groan in doing so. Dipper sat up on his knees and lightly dusted himself off. 

As you all collected yourselves, the sound of footsteps could be heard—heavy footsteps. They were the only sound that was present, besides the whirring and snapping sounds from the portal. Ford, Mabel, Dipper, and you all looked up at the same time, looking up to see the source. That's when you all caught a figure walking out from the portal. You could hear Ford let out a sharp gasp from beside you. 

And they looked absolutely huge. They continued to walk out of the portal until they were fully in the basement. Their broadening footsteps came to a sharp stop. Your heart dropped for a moment when they had reached into their dirty red jacket pocket. You dreaded the thought of the temp pulling out a weapon, harming you all. But your heart eased when they pulled out a familiar, torn book. It was the first journal that Ford had ever made. You could hear Dipper gasp at the sight; he has been on a big journey to find the first journal. He had thought it had been kept secret by his Grunkle Ford. Dipper could have never guessed it would be in the hands of a person from a whole different dimension.

The mysterious person had looked to have a robotic left arm; it was all gray, and a glowing hue had shone from it. It was sort of rusty and banged up, but it was in pretty good condition. Whoever made the arm had done a damn good job. Their outfit, however, was rugged and dirty. They wore a dark red jacket that had a sort of fluffy material in the hood of the jacket. Many tears and stains had covered the entirety of it; at least you could get a hint of what it was like out in the many different dimensions. 

You couldn’t see their face due to the huge, damaged goggles and gray, mangy scarf that covered most of their face. Everything that this person had worn had many tears, rips, and many patches of dirt. They looked like they went through hell and back. They also carried a huge bag upon their shoulders; it seemed to be full of who knows what. Their hair was long, but not too long. It was halfy tied up into a horrible bun in the back. It was all gray, which had brought out their age, and it was scruffed. But the beanie that they wore had covered the top of their head. They seemed to be the same height as Ford. But physically, they seemed huge. You were sure that this person was bulky as fuck under the sheets of clothes. Their shoulders were hella broad. 

Dipper gasped; he could scream and shout now, knowing where the first journal had gone. But he was more concerned about who this person was—could this be Ford’s brother? The same person in the files hidden in Ford's office?

. Ford immediately looked up from the ground after clutching onto his head. “Could that be?" He softly spoke. “No…This couldn’t be..." Ford stood up slower and steadily, worried that he was going to get attacked. But nothing came; instead, the unknown figure had remained. “S-Stanley?” Ford had mutters; his voice was noticeably shaky. 

The unknown person then had lifted his cracked goggles onto their heads. Their robotic arm reaches up to pull the scarf down. Now revealing their face, in which they were holding what seemed to be a furrowed stare. The stare alone can leave someone shaking right in their boots. He had a short white stubble covering the lower half of his face. A scar had covered most of his right eye; a foggy pupil was present. It was scary how much he looked like Ford. It wasn’t rocket science to know that it was Ford’s brother. 

But damn, how attractive this guy looked.

He looked around the basement, trying to get an understanding of his surroundings. He then looked at Ford, then Dipper and Mabel, then his eyes, scratch that, his one working eye had locked onto you. His stare was a little too long for your liking. You can see these eyes furrow just a little while he looked at you. You shivered under his gaze. You physically felt yourself shrink.

It felt like a whole bear setting its eyes upon its prey.

“Stanley!” Ford yelled, running towards his now-found brother. Making Stanley drift his eyes off of you to him. Before Ford could reach to bring him into a close hug, his footsteps faltered until he came to a full stop until he was a couple feet away from Stanely. 

The smile that was once on Ford’s face had disappeared. Regret and pain could be seen from Ford. He had trapped Stanley inside of the portal; he shouldn't be running up to him in glee. If anything, Stanley should be yelling at him, telling him how he was a horrible person for keeping him in there. Maybe even knocking his lights out because of this. 

Did Stanley ever forgive him?...

Ford tore his gaze from him, not wanting to make eye contact with his brother. He couldn’t after what he had done to him. “Listen, Stanley. I wish I could have brought you back sooner; I really do, but…” Ford faltered on his words, Now bringing himself to now look into his eyes; his eyes were now glossy. Stanley stared back at him, waiting for him to finish the rest of his sentence. Ford continued, “But I couldn’t risk having Bill use the portal into our dimension. And I…I” Ford then had lost his words, feeling himself crumble underneath the underwhelming feeling of Stanley's eyes upon him. 

As Ford tried to find his words, he felt a pair of arms wrapping around his upper torso tightly, cutting him off entirely. His face was then brought to a shoulder. Now, his once glossy eyes had begun to leak. And without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around his brother.

And man was the feeling great…

Although, Ford didn't feel the smile that was spread across his brother's face. Ford could hear a rough chuckle from his ear. “After all these years of running around dimensions, I didn't think you would actually want me back.” His gruff voice spoke into Ford’s shoulder. It was rough, but it had a shaky tone. Stanley’s voice was nostalgic to Ford, and oh, how he missed it. Ford had thought about his voice for years, wondering what he was doing between dimensions. Or even if he was alive. The thought had haunted his every dream.

Stanley had thought that after all these years of ruining Stanford’s life, he wouldn’t be welcomed back. He had carried that guilt with him everywhere he went. Hell, Stanley thought about bringing himself back to this dimension. But that same guilt had made him think that Stanford wouldn’t even want him near him. The thought of Ford turning his back to him after all these years was a recurring nightmare.

Stanley had finally let go of Ford; his hands were then put on Ford’s shoulders. They didn’t share any words, but they stared at each other like it was the last time they ever would. Taking in each other's features after not seeing each other for 30 years. It was cut off short when Mabel had lightly coughed into her hand.

“Ahem… Hi, Mabel here. But you must be Grunkle Ford’s brother. Stanley, am I right?” Mabel said as she stepped forward towards the two as she introduced herself. She tilted her head to the side and locked her hands together with just the pointer fingers pointing outwards. Both Stanley and Ford had broken there staring and looked towards Mabel. Stanley let go of his grip on Ford, and his face broke from the comforting smile to a confused look. 

“Uhh… Ford, these your kids?” Stanley questioned, but quickly had a thought pull him in. He turned towards Ford with a mischievous smirk. “Don't tell me you finally settled down and found yourself a woman, Ford.” He teased, hooking his right arm across Ford's shoulders. Bring Ford down to his chest, Ford awkwardly chuckled. “No Stanley, these are Shermie’s grandchildren. Meet Mabel and Dipper.” Ford can feel Stanley loosen his grip around Ford. Eventually letting him go to walk up to Mabel. 

Suddenly, when it was least expected. Stanley lifts Mabel up into the air, holding her by the sides of her torso. "Well, would you look at that…I have a great grand-niece… Stanley said in his soft, gruff voice. His head turns towards Dipper. Dipper shutters from his sharp gaze. Stanley threw Mabel onto his shoulder like a parrot and grabbed Dipper to do the same thing on the other shoulder. “And a great grand-nephew! I never knew that I could be a great uncle.” Everyone was shocked by how strong he was by just throwing them over his shoulder like a bag of feathers. Dipper and Mabel warmly laughed upon Stanley's shoulders as he softly looked up at them. Ford took in the lovely scenery as he watched from a distance.

You had watched this scene, and it was quite heartwarming. You studied the man, and from his very intimidating demeanor, he actually was a softie. 

He was warmly laughing with this niece and nephew, right until his gaze then turned towards you, his smile faltering as he intensely stared at you. His smile came to a complete stop.

Shit, nevermind. Not a big softie.

You watched worriedly as the big man lowered both of the twins to the ground softly; their laughter stopped as they felt themselves lowered and being put down. They took a quick glance at Stanley's face. It was serious and sort of scary. The color on your face had vanished when you saw him stand back up and boldly walk towards you. His steps like thunder in your ears, as well as your heartbeat. You heard Ford call out to him, but it was on deaf ears to Stanley.

You subconsciously began to walk back, hoping that you could put some space between you and the hunk of a man. But he continued to walk towards you. Your knees shook as you walked backwards and almost buckled as you felt something behind you, stopping you so you couldn’t go any further. You figured it was a fallen desk or a broken piece of the wall. You would check, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of Stanley as he finally stood inches before you.

You could feel his breath, his gaze, the warmth of his body, his scent, everything. His fiery eyes had stared into yours, making you shrink under him. Your chests practically touch each other. His scent had filled your nose; it was smokey and had smelled like the woods. It was sort of intoxicating.

God, you are weird…

Was this man going to beat you into a pump? Or was he going to interrogate you while you were just about to piss yourself? Maybe both?

Maybe you can introduce yourself to ease this thick tension; yeah, that’s it! So, you shoved your good hand in front of you. From how fast you had brought your hand up, he didn't even flinch. Not one inch. Stanley just continued to stare at you, analyzing you. “Hello, I’m (y/n)... It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir…” You cursed at yourself from the shakiness of your voice as you spoke. Your throat became dry. You can see his tense shoulders somehow soften. He glanced at your hand and back to you. You flinched as he lifted his hand to touch yours, afraid he was going to do something horrible. But it had caught you off guard when he turned your hand over and lifted it to his face. You felt his breath upon your hand; it sent shivers down your spine. His hand alone completely dwarfed yours. Stanley looked up and into your eyes; his eyes were now soft and gentle.

“Pleasure to meet you, (y/n). You can just call me Stan.” He softly spoke, your name rolling pleasantly off of his tongue. Now planting a kiss with his chapped lips into the back of your knuckles. It was slow and gentle; you felt a smile on his lips from your hands. His lips felt warm on your once-cold hands. Your face felt hot, along with the rest of your body. Nobody has ever shown you this type of respect. Or that's what you thought the gesture was. But, somehow, the kiss had felt like he had wanted more.

You heard an "ooooo" followed by squealing from Mabel, while Dipper mentally gagged as he loudly groaned. Ford facepalmed at his brother, “Please Stanley, not my assistant.” He muttered as he dragged his hand down his face. The last thing he wants is for his assistant and brother to become a thing. But then again, he had remembered how Stanley had said he was a “lady’s man” from a long time ago. He guess Stanley still got it in him.

The word assistant had caught Stan’s ears, making him lift his lips off of your hand. He turned his head slightly to look at his brother. “Assistant?…” He questioned, now shifting his eyes up at you. He stood back up and slowly lowered your hand back to your side, but his touch had lingered. A smirk settled on his rough facial features as he looked back at you. “That means I have a higher chance of seeing you again.” He winked at you; he took note of how you practically melted under his eyes.

“Yes Yes. Now, (Y/n), Dipper, Mabel. I think it's time for you all to go to bed. I need to catch up with Stanley about some things.” Ford announced while trying to pull his brother off of you. Stan's eyes lingered on you for a moment before giving Ford his full attention. They began to both walk in the middle of the basement to probably discuss what they had missed.

“Yes sir.” You replied as you waved toward Dipper and Mabel to follow you. Mabel's footsteps quickened while Dipper’s was slow. He was still trying to wrap his finger around today; everything was going too fast for his liking. 

Stan and Ford both watched the three of you walk to and into the elevator. Although Stan seemed to have his sights only on you. You could feel his lingering eyes from Miles away. You looked back to take one last look at the reunited brothers. You can confirm Stan was looking at you. His eyes made you feel like you were bare. You felt your face warm, and you quickly brought your eyes away to avoid his embarrassment. You and the kids silhouettes disappear as the elevator doors shut. 

The elevator ride was quiet until Mabel had spoken up. You already knew what was about to commence for the next couple of hours. You weren’t going to hear the end of it…

“Soooo…What was that abou-” 

“Dont start…”

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 73)

(Honesty, every chapter from here on out is probably going to be gross...)

“We have to get back to the bunker.” N dropped back into the nest suddenly, processors firing on all cylinders as he scooped Tera up in his arms, looking behind him occasionally.

“Woah, hey. We just got here, what's the rush?” Uzi cocked her head and raised an eyebrow, reaching up to hold his shoulder.

“I just ran into…something.” He choked out, stopping his frantic movement to look at her, he could feel his core trying to beat out of his chest.

“Descriptive clues babe.” She deadpanned, looking slightly irritated at his lack of detail.

“A zombie? I don't know how else to describe it! It was a drone, but dead, and not dead?!” He looked like he was grasping for straws fir a way to say it without sounding absolutely insane.

“It had weird, veiny tentacles all over it and a big one burst out like a weird creepy worm!”

Uzi blinked, before slowly laying back down onto the plush colored floor. “Uuuuuuuggh". A long-suffering groan left her mouth as she covered her face with her hands.

“Dammit. Come on, can't we catch a break?!” She complained to no one, grumbling irritability.

Tera was squirming in her father's arms, still wanting to play.

If it was any other time in her life, she would be flying down into the city and taking a look for herself, but now? She was in no condition to do much of anything physical, especially fight.

“I'll grab V and we'll do a sweep tomorrow, it came from in the direction of camp. Maybe theres something there?” He thought aloud, already drafting up a message to V. Uzi looked conflicted, wings fluttering as she took a long look out of the entrance to the nest.

“I don't like the idea of not going with you…”

“You need to stay where it's safe, I'm not going to risk you getting hurt. And… Tera needs her mom, in case something happens.” He added, words sounding thick and heavy. “Not that anything will! Just thinking logically.”

Uzi sucked in a wary breath, he was right and she hated it. She hated this situation, she hated this planet.

“Yeah.” She replied simply, worry creasing every one of her features as she looked back at him.

“It'll be okay, maybe it won't be that bad?”

…

N and V walked side by side, both drones on high alert as they made their way through the thick trees and hanging fog. The brightest lights being the ones attached to them, their headbands and tails glowing brightly.

“How do you keep finding this stuff?” V complained, raising an eyebrow as she walked slightly ahead of him with a sword drawn, she scanned the tree line ahead of them, squinting as she tried to make out any drone-like shapes.

“I wish I didn't…” N's tone was deadly serious. Something that caught V slightly off guard. N had always been the excitable, happy one. But here, with his gaze locked forward and him holding onto his inbuilt rifle. He looked a lot less like N and a lot more like J when she was leading a hunting party.

“Hey, uh, relax. There's nothing on this planet we can't deal with. We're the predators, not some stupid infected drones.” She smirked, making N crack a small smile before it was once again washed away by whatever internal battle he was having.

“Hey, V?”

“Mm?”

“Do you ever want kids?” He asked, and she stopped suddenly in her tracks. N raised an eyebrow as it looked as if she was stealing herself.

“No, It's too dangerous right now to think about.” She said before starting to walk forward again, her footfalls sounding heavier then they did before.

“I said ‘ever’ not ‘now’.” N hummed, being extremely curious about V's odd reaction to a question he'd assumed would be a straight ‘No’.

“N-no. I wouldn't be a good parent.” She replied, refusing to look at him as she did.

“What do you mean? You're great with Tera.”

“Tera's not mine. You two take care of her. Not me.” She sounded irritated, swiping her sword at a branch that had gotten in her way.

“I know you've been coming around more when I'm not home…”

V didn't say anything at that, only pushed her head down more as she walked forward, N sighed.

“I just wanted to thank you. Uzi could use the help, even if she won't admit it.”

There was silence for a few moments, before he heard a deep sigh come from in front of him.

“She's pregnant, it kinda just feels like my job. You know? Even if I still think you two are stupid.” She added, making him laugh nervously.

Snap!

A branch snapping underfoot startled them both, both drones looked around rapidly, tension rising to fever pitch almost instantly. N growled in warning, and despite him never hearing it out of her voice box before, so did V.

A drone came through the trees, hunched over and leaking oil from its mouth, it had been sliced in half at one point, because a large black vein was the only thing keeping it together. It’s arms outstretched towards V as in lumbered toward them.

“Oh that’s so gross.” V spat before slicing the drone in half again. Releasing the thick black appendage from its job of holding its host together, and sending it careening towards her outstretched arm, where it wrapped around and squeezed.

V screamed as tiny black veins snaked quickly up her arm, sending searing pain through all of her sensors and nearly sending her to the ground. She was in so much shock she almost couldn’t move,

N brought a sword down between the tentacle and her, blasting it to bits with an energy cannon until it was nothing but scrap. That didn’t stop the spiderwebbing of pain up her arm though. She watched in horror as her arm twisted up unnaturally and without her input, switching to a rifle aimed directly at N.

“N! Look out!” She cried out, N just barely moving out of the way as a stream of bullets left the tip of the rifle and dug themselves deep in a gnarled tree. Thinking quickly, N brought his sword down on her shoulder, severing it utterly.

The severed arm twitched erratically, switching between different weapons until N blasted it to smithereens as well, leaving nothing but scattered shrapnel and bits of undulating flesh.

“Are you okay!?” N leaned down and immediately pulled her shoulder into him, looking for more veins. V let out a stuttering breath, the burning pain was gone, taken along with her arm.

“Fine. It’ll regenerate. What the hell was that!?” She shouted, letting him fret over her only for another minute before pushing him off and standing. Watching her nanites fill the space with grey goo before solidifying into a new arm.

“That was the thing I saw yesterday! I didn’t know it could do that though!” He exclaimed, looking around just in case there were any more infected drones around. The trees were silent, but that meant very little.

“I think it’s the same thing that was in Dolls room… what happened to my arm happened to Uzi’s leg.” V huffed breathlessly, flexing her new arm before switching it to a flamethrower.

“Come on, and don’t let them touch you.”

The closer they got to camp. The warmer the air got, damp with the smell of iron and decay. They stood hip to hip, both wary of being grabbed from something unseen. When the clearing broke and they both stopped in their tracks.

Camp 98.7 was no more. A massive sinkhole had opened up from underneath, pulling in the surrounding buildings, a red mass of flesh surrounding the entire hole, pulsing. Black veins jutted across the ground, digging themselves deep within the planets very crust. The air was putrid, a too-sweet mixture of rot and garbage. Sharp, jagged teeth wrapped around the sinkhole’s circumference, and hundreds of very human eyes stared out in all directions.

The hole gurgled, the ground shaking slightly as the tendrils of black visibly spread across the ground, N and V both stepped back to avoid it touching them.

“Holy fuck.” V murmured, looking down at her very small looking flamethrower in comparison to this portal to hell “What do we do?” She looked at N for answers, something she wasn’t used to doing but felt right in the moment. He looked at her, eyes hollow before shaking his head, replacing his fear with determination.

“We need to see how big this is. We should fly over, see how deep this hole goes.”

V nodded, her wings unleashing as she launched herself up in the air to get a better look. N right behind her.

The sinkhole went down for miles, the inside crackling with yellow energy, the red flesh also went down for miles, teeth lining the inside like it was the mouth to some insanely sized creature. She could see black tendrils slinking around near the ‘bottom’, moving like a nest of coiled snakes.

“This is bad… this is really bad.” N looked at the surroundings, everything the tendrils touched became flesh, several trees that had gotten sunk in now had growths of bone growing out of them, jutting out randomly, the ground itself moved as if it had a heartbeat.

“N this is too big, I can’t even see the bottom of this thing.”

The hole gurgled again, the hundred of eyes suddenly focusing on the drones hovering high above it, N gulped, watching the nest of moving tentacles inside suddenly stop moving.

“We need to move.”

“Wh-“

“We need to move, now!”

N dragged V by the hand just in time when a gigantic mass of tentacles ripped out of the hole in their direction, trying desperately to grab them and drag them down into a gaping hellish maw. N kept heading upwards, pulling V along until they were safely out of reach. The tendrils continued to swipe at them, arching up high into the sky.

Both disassemblers looked down, watching as the flurry of movement slowly calmed down and the pit pulled back in its determined appendages, once again beginning to coil and slide within.

“What the hell do we do, this thing is spreading!? V exclaimed, looking out at the mile of transformed land and how quickly this petulance was spreading over it.

“I don’t know…” N replied, looking in the direction of the bunker not far from here.

Next ->

[solarflaresdaddyissues]

More of my TSBS Headcanons

Solar and Moon have lists both on them and in their workspaces on all times covering all commonly known (and uncommonly known) weaknesses and cures for different cryptids since the whole “Vampire’s Thralls” incident

Solar hates counting and feeling sick every time he does it because of, once again, the Vampire’s Thralls incident

Creator kept the faceplate of Acolyte’s mechanical body after Rez had left and keeps it somewhere hidden in his robot suit thing.

Kerian likes and collects shiny things like an actual raven or crow does. Rez gets annoyed by it constantly

Kerian is like Dazzle (the Beast), Noctyra, and Kray’s silly, cool uncle // stepfather role. Rez is the tired dad who hates his life and his kids

(Dark) Sun misses his Moon immensely and harbors a hatred to Ruin for killing him, even if he hated his Moon too (there’s a reason he couldn’t kill him himself, after all)

Cetus and Taurus are in an ex-courtship. That’s why Taurus felt more emotional about it than anyone else.

Eclipse kept his glow feature in case it gets dark or the power suddenly turns off (especially in his lab). He claims it’s so he can see and fix it, but it’s really for two reasons:

1. So Jake and Drew can find him and don’t get scared

Because he’s scared of the dark himself

Ruin misses his Monty the most. He has a small tattered picture of them together from right after the merge.

Sven and Felix are were married for “tax reasons”

Everyone thinks Rez and Kerian are in a courtship. Rez is painfully aware and threatens to kill anyone who mutters anything about it near him. Kerian is absolutely oblivious to even the idea.

Kerian likes bad puns (Once made a “Early bird gets the worm” joke and pecked Rez on his helmet hard only to be promptly attacked)

Creator and Felix watched (some of) the Barbie Movies with Earth. Earth showed them to Taurus

Eclipse once saw a kid walking around with a furby in the Pizzaplex and was painfully reminded of Tattletail. The moment the kid set the thing down and wasn’t paying attention, he took, broke, and burnt the thing. He doesn’t want to risk it just crawling out of the trashcan like a little demon

Dark Sun feels slightly bad for what he does to Neptor, but won’t rebuild him because there’s no point, in his eyes

Jack found old Security footage from before Sun and Moon were separated when he was trying to hand out with Puppet and found some recordings of Moon singing lullabies. That’s how he knew how to sing so well for Solar’s Christmas present

Eclipses V1-V3 are all in a separate Uno Hell game arguing for all eternity. Old Solar, Lord Eclipse, and (the dead version of) Swap Eclipse sometimes join too.

Molten had trouble sleeping and sometimes has flashbacks to what happened with his old code, which sometimes even leads to panic attacks or nightmares. Moon is always immediately by his side to help him, before anyone else (besides maybe Solar, who’s still coping with Jack and doesn’t want to lose another kid) (Yes, maybe I think of both Solar and Moon as Molten’s fathers. I do not ship Solar and Moon.)

[sunlight-forsaken]

okokok so I was struck with A Thought —

We all know that Kaeya’s vision appearing saved him that night- but I’d like to add:

What if the initial blast of elemental power from his vision was enough to trigger a freeze reaction on Diluc?

It was heavily raining, after all.

———

Kaeya had expected the reaction- he’d brought his sword for a reason. Still, he does not meet Diluc with even the vigour expected of him if they were sparring. He had expected it, yes, but it did not stop his foolish heart from hoping he’d be wrong for once.

Diluc forces him back with blow after blow, each strike burning hotter and harder as he backs into the field. Blood roars in his ears so loud it’s almost enough to muffle the crackle of flame overlaid upon the torrential rain weighing him down further. Each movement is forced, each parry and block a means to survival-

Kaeya doesn’t know why he’s fighting. Is he really so selfish as to live, after all of this-?

He meets the ground, his limbs twitching to fight but his heart already sure he’d die at the hands of his own brother. It comes with a surge of bile in his gut at the thought, every hope and memory pinned in his head blurring the thoughts with the red his eyes can see.

Red that overtakes his eye as the claymore is brought down in a wild, deadly strike from the hands of a grieving man who had lost his father and who he thought his brother was in one fell swoop.

It’s searing hot upon his skin, and he’s sure he screamed. He’s long since lost track of whatever pleas or reasonings have left his mouth, if any at all, upon seeing the betrayal deep rooted into those crimson eyes. Hellfire crawls upon him, licking upon every wound he already sustained from stray sparks or barely avoided swipes. He’s forced out of his own wallowing, suddenly lightheaded but present, as if the muted sensation of his thoughts had been stripped away and left him defenceless against the burns, allowed the pain to seep deep underneath his skin.

And then, all Kaeya knows is a rush of ice.

The roaring of flame was swallowed back into the thunder and rain of the storm. Deliriously, Kaeya is grateful that his death was not as painful as he thought it’d be- even as he scrambles back like a worm on the dirt, his only ‘clear’ eye struggling to focus in the low light without the aid of the pyro setting the area in angry glow.

His brother stands before him, a perfect snapshot of that moment. Impossibly dark ice has stilled him, incasing his form in a thick layer similar to that of a cast. He almost looks like a statue- a monument, built by those who come after, celebrating the hero who killed the last filthy sinner who walked upon the surface.

Kaeya almost laughs, choking on blood or guilt or bile- it does not matter. For a perfect moment, there is nothing but him, the damned rain, and the years of lies and promises that he wore like a second skin.

There are no words. There’s no conclusion, good or bad.

Kaeya, ever the opportunist, takes it as it is.

Kaeya, ever the coward, runs.

[the-writerwoman]

Wow, look at me, not having 4am brain rot 😂 this has been a brain worm since I first posted about Tides of the heart though and someone mentioned about Siren Wade and Logan. And I’ve been thinking about it and as I was cooking dinner earlier I was thinking about it and I went to go talk to my partner about it and I saw he was watching Pirates of the Caribbean, the one with the mermaids. I know they’re not exactly the same thing but it was close enough for me to be like “Yup, this is a sign.” So here we go. Also I’m making up some of my own lore mixed with stuff I’ve read on them 😂

This is after Wade saves Logan from the water after he went overboard during a storm. Might tweak it if I write a full fic.

———————

The storm had passed, leaving the beach quiet under the pale glow of the moon. Waves gently lapped at the shore, the sound a soothing contrast to the chaos that had nearly swallowed Logan earlier. He sat on the damp sand, his muscles aching and his mind spinning as he stared at the figure before him.

Half-submerged in the shallows was a man, or something like one. His upper body could almost pass for human if not for the faint shimmer of his skin in the moonlight and the too-sharp angles of his grin. Below the waist, however, a long, glistening tail shimmered red and black, curling lazily in the water as if mocking the impossible.

“You’ve been watching us,” Logan said slowly, his voice hoarse from seawater and disbelief. It wasn’t a question. It was a fact he was still struggling to process.

“For days,” the man replied casually, his melodic voice carrying over the quiet waves. “Your boat’s noisy, your crew’s noisier than a pod of dolphins chasing fish.”

Logan frowned, his muscles tensing as unease prickled up his spine. “Why did you save me?”

Wade’s grin widened, revealing sharp teeth that glinted in the moonlight. “You’re… different. Interesting.”

Logan shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether to feel flattered or unnerved. “Different how?”

Wade’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he tilted his head. “Oh, lots of ways. But let’s start with your name. What do they call you, sailor?”

Logan hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to stay silent. But something about Wade’s piercing gaze, and the fact that he still wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not, pushed him to answer. “Logan.”

“Logan,” Wade repeated, as if tasting the name on his tongue. “Strong. Simple. Suits you.”

Logan glanced at him warily. “And you? What do I call you?”

Wade smirked, leaning forward slightly. “You could try pronouncing it, but… well, you’d have to cut out your tongue first.”

Logan stiffened, instinctively shifting back on the sand. Wade held his gaze for a long, tense moment before his grin broke into a laugh, bright and carefree.

“Relax,” Wade said, waving a webbed hand dismissively. “I’m joking. You can call me Wade.”

Logan grunted, still not entirely reassured. “Real funny.”

“I thought so,” Wade said, flashing another grin before leaning forward on his arms, his tail stirring the water behind him.

Logan was trying to process what was going on right now when his mind froze. His stomach dropped as he remembered his father’s lighter. His most prized possession. His hand shot into his pocket, fumbling until he felt the familiar shape. Pulling it out, he turned it over in his hands, relief flooding him when he saw it was intact.

“What is that?” Wade asked, inching closer, his curiosity palpable.

“It’s a lighter,” Logan said, flicking it open. A tiny flame flared to life, its warm glow dancing in the cool night air.

Wade’s eyes widened, his expression transforming into pure wonder. “What’s it for?”

“Fire,” Logan said, holding it up but keeping it at a distance. “You use it to start fires.”

“Fire? Like those orange and yellow ships when lightening hits them?” Wade asked, his voice soft with awe. He inched closer, his gaze fixed on the flickering flame. “It’s… beautiful.”

“Don’t touch it,” Logan warned. “It burns.”

But before Logan could stop him, Wade reached out, his finger brushing the flame. A sharp hiss escaped him, and he yanked his hand back, plunging it into the water with a splash. “Ow! What the hell?”

Logan barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he clicked the lighter shut. “I told you. Fire burns.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” Wade shot back, glaring at the lighter like it had personally wronged him. “I live underwater. We don’t exactly have a lot of that down there .”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Fair enough.”

Wade huffed, inspecting his finger with an exaggerated pout. “You’re lucky you’re pretty. Otherwise, I would’ve left you to the sharks.”

Logan stilled, his amusement fading as Wade’s words hung in the air. Logan couldn’t tell if he was joking again but the siren’s the predatory glint in his eyes as he watched Logan squirm didn’t help.

Logan cleared his throat, ready to say something, when a distant shout broke the silence. His head snapped toward the sound, and he spotted the dim glow of lanterns further up the beach. His crew.

“Logan! You out there?” one voice called.

Logan turned back toward Wade, but his breath caught in his throat. All he saw was the shimmering tail dipping back into the waves, vanishing beneath the surface. The water stilled as if he’d never been there at all.

“Logan!” Another shout grew louder as the crew came running down the beach. Within moments, two of them were at his side, helping him to his feet.

“Are you alright?” Scott asked, his lantern swinging wildly as he scanned Logan for injuries. “What happened? We thought you were lost.”

Logan hesitated, his gaze flicking back to the now-empty water. “I… I must’ve swam to shore. Can’t remember much. Maybe I hit my head.”

“You’re lucky you made it, some of the lads weren’t so lucky,” Scott said gravely, slinging Logan’s arm over his shoulder. “Come on, we’re going to find shelter.”

Logan let himself be guided away, his body still aching and his mind reeling. As they trudged up the beach, he glanced over his shoulder one last time, his eyes scanning the dark waves. For a moment, he thought he saw something, a head poking out of the water, watching them.

The figure disappeared before Logan could be sure.

——————

I hope you liked it! I’m thinking of doing a new fic now, to add on to all my WIP’s since I’ve finished This life chose us, and Tides of the heart is almost finished. I’ve got 3 ideas brewing from bits and pieces I’ve put up on tumblr from my 4am brain rot (feel free to read them on my blog to help pick which one you like the idea of.

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

Can you please do a continuation of req 8 (the masquerade ball on) pleas I really loved it

absolutely, that's one of my favorite reqs that i've ever written. you do not understand how much i love masquerades hehehe

Requested Prompts #40 - 💓

You steadily picked yourself up from the ground, what had happened? The last thing you remember you were at the ball and then... nothing. You couldn't even remember who you were dancing with, if you were even dancing at all. You take a look around, taking in your surroundings... or rather, the lack thereof. You were surrounded by an inky black abyss that stained your vision black yet still allowed you to see, you could tell that it did that because you could see yourself almost perfectly. " Hello?" You call into the abyss, not expecting an answer even though that's what you want. " Is anyone there?" There was a pause, an almost infinitely long pause. For a moment you worried that you were stuck here, in the void, alone. You'd surely go insane if that were the case, but luckily( or perhaps, unluckily depending on how you view it) that wasn't the case. The ground trembled, and you stumbled back just in time to see a quite frankly way too large eye open up where you had been standing. It glowed a bright blue, reminding you of something you just couldn't put your finger on. And slowly but surely, it rotated to look at you. More eyes popped up, each staring at you when they opened. You receded into yourself, backing away even though it seemed that no matter how far you went they always seemed to get closer. You trip over your own feet and soon find yourself falling backwards, with fear clutching you for a mere moment before you are caught. " Now now, Little Star, we can't have you falling over now, can we?" A voice tutted with a chuckle, a rather familiar voice actually... You looked around for the source of the voice, and for who caught you, but you couldn't find anything other than the fact you were caught by a large, shadowy hand. You squeaked with surprise as you saw it's fingers curl around your form. " Y-you... Just who are you?" You called out into the darkness, your response beginning with a maniacal laugh. " Oh what a shame it is that you don't even recognize me... I'm rather hurt, Little Star." The voice cooed, and that's when it hit you. This voice belongs to that cookie at the masquerade ball... and the one that appeared in your dreams, the one you made that deal with... Oh sweet witches, just what did you get yourself into? " Show yourself!" You commanded, yet you were unable to hide the treble of fear that wormed its way into your tone. " Ehehe... Eheheha... Ehe he ha ha hah!" The voice cackled, you could feel the two largest eyes, the ones that looked like they actually belonged to a face, peering down at you. " Oho? So the princess wants me to reveal myself? I might as well indulge the wishes of her highness then~!" The voice chirped.

You stared on in a mixture of fear and awe as the Shadows receded to reveal the large figure of the cookie before you, bearing the same silhouette as the jester that appeared in your dream, only colored in. His heterochromatic blue eyes stared down at you as a grin stretched to be far too wide across his face. " Why hello there little princess! I'm so terribly sorry to have kept you waiting, but now we can finally meet face to face! Or well, face to real face." The jester chuckled, you couldn't help but feel like you've heard about this... well, this jester before. The cogs in your brain turn and turn, where have you heard about a Jester who could manipulate the Shadows to do his bidding? Ah, that's right, from your father. This was one of the five beasts, the fallen heroes. Shadow Milk Cookie. You fucked up big time just by making a deal with him in the first place, and you could tell that he could tell based just on your expression that you'd come to this realization. " Aw, there's no need to look so concerned! I do intend to keep my end of our little deal." You leaned away from him. " Considering your track record for deceiving cookies... I doubt it." You say, glancing up at him suspiciously. The gargantuan jester sighed dramatically. " You really don't remember out contract, do you?" He asked, to which you responded to with a shake of your head. " Fine, fine, I'll explain it again from the top." Shadow Milk Cookie cleared his throat, beginning to speak. " The very notion of our deal was that you would give me what you desired most in exchange for what you valued most, yes? What you wanted the most was freedom... Yet 'Freedom' is also what you value the most. So you put me into a bit of a conundrum as to how to collect what you valued while also giving you the freedom you ever so desperately desired." You gulped, you had a rather concerning feeling about this. You felt like you had acted selfishly in the past, far too selfish. " So then I had a thought!" The jester chirped, not helping the sinking feeling in your gut in the slightest. " What if I exchanged the freedom of your kingdom in exchange for yours? It was a truly marvelous idea if I do say so myself!" And there it was.

[linkspooky]

I got to say. I really love your OC Lio within your atla fanfic. And that is saying a lot for I never been a fan of OCs within fanfics. I do wonder what was your inspiration for writing them

I'm glad you like Lio my OC from THIS ATLA FIC.

Well what inspired Lio was reading the search years ago and seeing Azula run off into a forest and Zuko not trying to go after her and help his sister when she's clearly mentally breaking down. Then just, not really looking for her by the time that Smoke and Shadow comes around.

The idea of Lio sprung for that, what if because Zuko didn't go after her someone else found Azula when she was at her lowest point in her life. What if when Zuko wasn't there for her, someone else was. What if this person wasn't a good influence, but was a predator lurking in the woods, and someone who couldn't be trusted and never wore their genuine face. Someone now attached to Azula who has an agenda of their own. It's like a plot consequence for Zuko never lifting a finger to help his sister.

The character they're based on the most is Yun from The Rise / Shadow of Kyoshi. In particular they're based off of my massive disappointment for how his character was handled. So excuse me while this post turns into a rant.

Rise of Kyoshi introduces a character known as Yun, the false avatar. A character who was taken off the streets and led by Kuruk's companions to believe he was the next avatar because they couldn't find Kyoshi in time. The earthbender's usual divining method for finding the avatar wasn't working and they essentially took a random nameless street kid on a hunch and prayed it would work.

They then put Yun through what could only be described as Zoldyck training if you've ever read Hunter x Hunter. He was forced to swallow poisons and stay up sick for nights on end so he'd be immune to all of them. He was forced to try to learn firebending by standing on hot coals, or training on spiked caltrops that permanently scarred his feet. His teachers horribly abused him, then frequently called him lazy for not being able to bend fire, because he you know... wasn't the avatar.

He does his best to put up with abusive training for years because he wants to help the world, and then he finds out that he wasn't the avatar. The way he finds out is that his master asks a spirit which one is the avatar him or Kyoshi, the spirit picks Kyoshi, then he's like "If you don't need Yun anymore, then I'll just eat him."

He's then dragged to the spirit world, and has to fight off a spirit named Father Glow Worm for days and then EAT him in order to escape the spirit world. He asks for a drink of water from a nearby village and not a single person helps him, and one throws the water on the ground and tells him to waterbend it. So Yun has his Geto moment and kills everyone around him.

Then, in Shadow of Kyoshi (this all happened in Rise of Kyoshi and is told to us in flashbacks of Shadow) Yun enacts a scheme to kill every single one of his abusers for revenge. His abusers who I remind you are not good people. Rangi's mom had the most student deaths by Ag Ni Kai when she was head of the Royal Fire Nation Academy for Girls and also probably killed her sister in order to get the position. The same woman that made Yun dance around on caltropped spikes and called him lazy when he showed the SLIGHTEST hesitation.

Now my point isn't that Yun deserved to get his revenge. Revenge bad. Of course revenge is bad. But Avatar somehow, while being the pro-redemption and pro-forgiveness show always manages to screw up the "revenge bad" message. I think it can be summarized in the way both Jet and Hama are treated in their respective plotlines. The feelings of the abusers (in this case the colonizing fire nation) are put in prioirity over the feelings of the victims. Even though the violence they commit is in retaliation to violence that was done of them first. Avatar only stops the question of "violence bad" without addressing where the source of the violence came from.

They also put down both victims with violence instead of trying to find a third way to stop this cycle of violence by reaching out an healing an abuse victim instead. Like, violence is bad, unless a protagonist is using it I guess.

There's no real substance to these anti-revenge messages. They're not overcoming the cycle of revenge. They're just failing to save victims with no plot consequences because they're not main characters.

Anyway, back to Yun. As I said, the feelings of Yun's abusers, particularly Rangi's mother are prioritized over the feelings of Yun the victim. Even though everything thing that Yun does is in retaliation to years of child abuse he suffered under them. Yun's abuser gets the chance to apologize and atone but not Yun himself. All because Yun wants to murder his abusers, which you know child abuse and torture is forgivable but not an abuse victim being angry and showing that anger in ways that aren't approved of by the good guys TM!

All Kyoshi can say to Yun in the end essentially is "let it go." Like, god the whole monologue sucks let me take a moment to transcribe it.

"It's time to let go." Kyoshi lowered her hands. "Whether you kill me here today or not, you have to let go of what happened." "And it didn't brting me peace. It was wrong that you were lied to, Yun. It was wrong for Jainzhu to do what he did, but he's gone. Whatever pain and anger you have left - you have to live with it. You can't put it on anyone else."

Actually, yes Kyoshi he can put it on someone else. An entire group of adults collectively abused him for like years on end and you're defending one of them because she's your girlfriend's mom, and prioritizing her feelings of the hurting victim right in front of you.

Also, Kyoshi ends the plotline by murdering Yun. Which you know, once again, violence is bad, revenge is bad, unless it's a protagonist doing it. Kyoshi preaches how you can't end the cycle of revenge with murder and then proceeds to end it with murder.

So basically after the narrative sides with Yun's abusers and Kyoshi shows no empathy for Yun, the narrative goes on to further imply Yun never really loved kyoshi because he only loved her when she was underneath him not her own powerful avatar. Like you can't just have Yun experience negative character arc due to trauma you've got to imply they were bad all along.

I do like revenge stories where the victim dies. However, they have to be tragedies for the main characters, or be used to show the flaws of the main character. Ciel / Noel in Tsukihime is a fantastic example of what could have been done with Yun's character. The TLDR: version of tha tpost is Ciel's treatment is Noel is MEANT to make her look like a bad person. To show that Ciel may be a hero but falls short as a person. Kyoshi isn't MEANT to look like a terrible friend but that's how she comes off.

Sorry, this turned into a Rant. Lio is basically my attempt to do Yun again with several aspects of their character. The child abuse. The clown / jokester personality. The gentle nature turned violent. The feeling that Lio is "Nameless" or a "Mask Maker" rather than a person. That they're worth nothing unless they play a role that was given to them, in this case protecting a royal family member. Their charisma, and their intelligence as a schemer and a tricskter. The connection to the spirits. All of it, but without horribly murdering the victim and redeeming the abuser at the same time. An attempt to redo Yun's tragedy but without blaming the victim.

Lio is also based off of Azula herself, and to a lesser extent Zuko. Like Azula, they value loyalty above all else. They show extreme loyalty to others while expecting other people to show that exact loyalty in return. They'll also resort to emotional manipulation to control people because they can't handle even the idea of rejection. Lio is clever, and a good liar, and is one of the few people who can mouth off to Azula without fear. In fact, Azula enjoys trading insults with Lio because literally no one else is able to talk to her that way. Like, it's fun for both of them to just sit there and think of comebacks and they both due it in place of actually talking to each toher about feelings because they're both fake people who like to put on masks and tell lies to hide their identity.

One more inspiration for Lio is Hak from Akatsuki no Yona or rather my problems with Haks' character. This is going to be less of a rant because the rest of the series is great. Hak is always a character I wanted to like, but the more he became a love interest the less I liked him because the plot began to ignore his glaring flaws. Basically, the difference between Soo Won and Hak, is Hak is someone who is a knight, he is loyal to one individual. He would put one person's life over the entire country. He might be the ideal knight, the best there is, but he really doesn't care about things on a grand scale. He judges things on how they affect Yona, and how people are kind or not to Yona. He didn't care about if King Il was a terrible king or people in the kingdom suffered because he was personally loyal to King Il. Whereas Soo Won will make decisions to screw over his friends and sacrifice himself as well, but for a greater good.

The plot goes into detail showing the flaws of Soo Won's decision making, that by being too willing to sacrifice people he didn't see things coming like Yona's growth into an eventual leader, or that he could have from the beginning tried to think of a way with less sacrifices if he hadn't underestimated both Hak and Yona's growth and tried to do everything by himself. Essentially he treated his two best friends as gameboard pieces but they showed him all along they were his equals and he was wrong for objectifying them and nto considering their feelings.

However, the show doesn't nearly go into Hak's flaws. After like a hundred chapters or so he basically just becomes the perfect boyfriend. So, Lio's inspiration was what if I take Hak's personality to the extreme. What if Hak was so obsessed with Yona because he was like REALLY WEIRD ABOUT IT. What if Hak's entire personality was being Yona's bodyguard / boyfriend and he had no sense of self outside of that? What if that was exactly his flaw, he's Yona's bodyguard and nothing else and therefore cannot exist without her. What if Hak's love for Yona was a FLAW?

So basically Lio is like Hak if Hak were a TOTAL FREAK about things.