#he don't know the world no more getting too old for it

[artstaeus3600]

I had an idea I don't really know how to flesh it out but here it goes,

Jazz and Danny are not Jack's kids, not to say Maddie cheated just because they weren't together until after Danny's birth, I haven't thought thru who Jazz's father would be yet, but Danny's is John Constantine.

Danny knows who his bio dad is, John would visit a bit when he was younger and a couple other times to see if he had magic (he doesn't... Yet) and sometimes Danny even stayed over at his house for a weekend or two, they call occasionally but mostly birthdays and holidays.

So when Danny gets turned into a ghost well he kinda forgot to tell John and we'll John was a bit buiser that year so it was mostly calls and well time passes and the old king got defeated and Danny became the new one in his place, and then the world is gonna end soon and we'll the Justice League were kinda desperate so they summoned the Ghost King...

Well let's just say John will be having a conversation with his son after this whole world ending business is done with (also the Justice League too for just summoning something without knowing with it would even help them) also seeing if he can spend more time with Danny too cause apparently leaving him alone got him half-killed.

(Jazz's dad could be batman for the fun of it)

[burnforyou]

FRAT PRESIDENT - LUIGI MANGIONE x READER

!SUMMARY! frat sweetheart gets with the frat president: Luigi. he interrupts/catches you masterbating. also im aware frat sweethearts usually don't live in the house but I don't care this is my fanfiction. (I honestly don't know how frats/sororities work). enjoy!

based off of this ask and these photos

!WARNINGS! alcohol, smut!!!!!, female masterbation, he's creepy kinda (as he always is in my fics, its a reoccurring theme), choking, a lot of force, overstim, rough + raw.

you knew once your frat president, Luigi Mangione, took his shirt off at the party, you were going to have a long night.

not in the way you might think, where you have to take care of him because he's too drunk.

no, that's his problem.

more in a way where you have to take care of yourself, privately.

you stumble up the stairs to your bedroom, your last cup threatening to come back up. you fall back onto your bed and close your eyes, tuning out the party and the rest of the world.

being a frat sweetheart is not as easy as it looks, you truly take care and love all of the boys like they're your actual brothers. and once again, it's not what you think it is.

well, there's one boy you love a little bit more than like a brother. Luigi Mangione, the fraternity president.

oh, Luigi!

you tilt your head back and press your thighs together just at the mere thought of him. you close your eyes and imagine him, his body burned into the back of your eyelids by now.

watching him take his shirt off with Jake and Ryan, he made them look so small compared to him. his back muscles rippled as he jokingly stretched, prepping to shotgun a can of beer. you bit your lip, gluttony taking over you.

you knew you were going to have a long night of fucking yourself, wishing it was Luigi, wishing he would hear you through the thin walls of your frat house and barge into your room to force himself on you.

Jake tossed him a can and he caught it with one hand, his long fingers completely wrapping around the can. you had to lean back on the fence to prevent yourself from falling over on the beer pong table. the people playing paid no attention to you gaping at Luigi from afar.

time seemed to slow down, like you were watching an old porn film from the 80s.

he punched a hole in his can with a key, tilted his head back, flicked the tab open, and began sucking the drink down. your whole body flushed and you relished in the sight.

you nearly moaned watching him swallow over and over, the drink running down his throat, as well as his bare upper body. the beer streamed down his chest and you wished you could get on your knees and lick it all off him.

you had to press your thighs together, your panties shamefully wetter than ever. they were practically sopping by the time you got up to your room.

you don't even bother taking your clothes off, you just pull your ruined panties to the side and plunge your fingers inside of yourself, gasping at the intrusion.

with your eyes closed, you're able to pretend luigi's fingers are deep inside of you, stretching you out, preparing you to take his cock. you moan out into your empty bedroom.

then you remember a little present that's sitting in the bottom of your underwear drawer: your vibrator. you hop up, dig through your drawer and smile at the sight of your loyal, small pink vibrator. how could you forget about her?

you hop back into bed and actually settle in this time: abandon your dress on the floor and hide under the safety of your blankets. you press the small "on" button and hold the buzzing vibrator onto your clit. your back arches, your hips rock and a moan slips out of you uncontrollably.

your mind flickers with images of Luigi, one sticking out more than the others: him rocking his hips into your for the first time and his jaw dropping at the sensation of your pussy gripping onto him.

you slip one finger in your hole, then another, and eagerly fuck yourself with a hunger so deep, a longing, a horrible desire for Luigi Mangione.

it feels like you're moaning right to his face, begging him to make love to you.

on the other side of the wall, Luigi has his ear pressed against the thin thing you called a wall. he gasps when your vibrator begins buzzing, the tent in his shorts growing even more.

it's so erotic, filthy, almost creepy, what's happening now. you fingering yourself, imagining him, yearning for him. him on the other side of the wall, listening to your moans and your pussy squelching around your fingers.

"oh, Luigi," you moan, louder than before, "fuck me, please!"

when he hears you moan his name, he loses all self control completely and furiously enters your bedroom. but you don't notice him.

and there you were, pleasuring yourself in front of him like a divine entity. your mouth stayed open, trembling and letting out small whimpers every time you grinded on your fingers.

your fingers, your soft hands, so small compared to his.

just wait until my fingers are inside of you.

he carefully locks the door behind him with a click. the small sound has your eyes flying open.

"luigi!" you shout in surprise, holding your covers over your chest to protect what little dignity you have left. you fumble your still-buzzing vibrator and to your demise, it rolls down off your bed and onto the floor.

he looks between the vibrator and you. your heart beats so intensely you fear he could hear it from across the room. you grip onto your bed sheets for dear life and regret all of your life choices.

unfortunately for you, your small pink magic wand rolls across the floor, right to luigi's feet. he picks it up and presses the "on" button, filling the room with a deep silence for the first time.

he stalks up to your bed agonizingly slow. his eyes ares are full of a dark emotion, which you can't tell if its desire, or anger. or both?

"what do we have here?" he smirks, holding the toy out with his thumb and pointer finger. you try and reach for it, but he's faster than you are. he swerves his arm backwards when you lunge at him, lucky enough to catch a glimpse of your nipple that you accidentally flashed. even more blood rushes to his already aching cock.

"what are you wearing?"

you hesitate, knowing you're completely bare besides your thin panties you've pulled to the side.

"come on, show me." he nods to you, reaching down to palm his cock with his empty hand.

you look up into his eyes, the look on his face sending a shiver over your whole body.

you hesitantly pull the covers off your body, revealing your chest first.

"fuck," he groans, licking his lips and continuing to touch himself, "keep going baby."

you push the sheet off the rest of your body, revealing your bare skin to him for the first time. your skin burns under his heated gaze.

"god, you're so beautiful," he mutters. he shakes his head in disbelief. his eyes run all over your body and you press your thighs together.

he crawls onto your bed, his weight on the mattress making you slide towards him slightly. his broad shoulders cast a shadow over you.

he grabs the side of your neck and forces your lips on his roughly. you had no choice but to kiss him back, moaning into his animalistic kiss. you grasp onto his collared shirt and pull him down on you, his weight crashing onto your body.

he comes up from the kiss, you two heavy breathing in unison. your eyes flutter open and your met with his built arms caged around your head. before you can look into his eyes he's ducking into your neck and kissing down the side, where his hand once was. his scruff slightly scratched your soft skin.

"you smell so good," he whispered into your neck, making you whimper softly.

he drags his hand down your silhouette, lightly grazing the side of your tit before resting on your hip, right on your waistband. he hooked his finger around the thin fabric and attempted to pull them down with your help.

he drags his tongue up your neck, nibbling on your earlobe.

"I heard you, touching yourself for me." he murmurs into your ear, "you wanted me to fuck you, hm?"

"please," you whimper softly, grasping onto his wide back.

"you wanted me to make you feel good, I'm here now," he slides his hand down to your bare, already sensitive pussy, "you're already so wet f'me."

your whole body shudders against him. he kisses you soothingly, your whimpers lost in his lips. he slides his fingers through your folds, getting them soaked in your cream. his digits teased your hole and you grasp onto his curls, pushing him down on you harder.

"please, lu," you cry into his kiss. he finally slips 2 fingers into you, his thumb stretching to press onto your clit. your back arches against him and your nipples rub against his shirt.

he breaks the kiss first and presses his forehead against yours, his eyes full of greed.

"you're so pretty," he groaned as your pussy gripped his fingers, creating a satisfying wet noise as he intruded in you. you grinded against his digits, allowing him to feel you completely.

he curled his fingers and pressed on your clit just right and whispered "cum for me."

his name fell from your lips in a moan as your orgasm washed over you. he reveled in the sight of your orgasm, your head tilted back on your pillows and thighs shaking around him. he continues fucking his fingers into your pulsing pussy, his forearm straining.

"mmm, lui," you struggle to get out, head whipping from side to side as he overstimulates you. you try and push him off you but he's much stronger than you are.

he ends up pressing his hand to your throat, cutting off your airflow, just like you wanted him to. he presses his long fingers into your sensitive skin, making sure to leave markings. you grasp onto his wrist and desperately buck against him.

"you think you're ready now?" he hissed. you try and speak but nothing comes out. you nod desperately.

he removes his hands from you and you whine at the loss of warmth, but enjoy the sight of him stripping in front of you. he sits back and takes his shirt off, revealing his chest to you again. you bite your lip at the sight, admiring the body you know he worked to have. each one of his abs were shaped so perfectly they almost looked fake. his v-line, so defined its almost edging you. his happy trail runs from his belly button to below his waistline and you wish you could feel it on your forehead as he uses your face.

"you like what you see?" he laughs at you below him.

"and what if I do?" you shrug, reluctantly tearing your eyes off his abs.

he does the same thing to you, tearing his shorts and boxers off in one go so he can finally stroke himself. he runs his thumb over his tip, already wet with pre-cum, and his eyes run down your body. he cant believe this is real, he cant believe you're really bare in front of him, begging for him to have you.

he begins stroking himself, using his pre-cum as a lubricant, his hungry eyes locking onto your breasts, rising and falling with every breath you took.

his heavy eyes fell to your hips, the ones he'd been dreaming of holding. occasionally he'd use your hips to guide you, hold you for a photo, or just slipping past you in the house, and those small touches would have him gooning later.

you have no choice but to watch as he agonizingly strokes himself in front of you. tired of waiting for him, you push yourself up and grasp the back of his head, pulling him down to kiss you. your hand came between you two and wrapped around his thick cock. your mouth watered with a need to taste him.

"shit," he groaned, breaking the kiss, "I don't have a condom."

"I don't either, it's fine, I'm clean." you assure him, kissing him again.

"I haven't been with anyone since you moved in," he murmurs through the kiss. you pump kiss cock faster, feeling his veins pulsing.

"lay back, I need you," he groans deeply. you reluctantly let go of his cock and settle back onto the pillows. he follows you, pressing his weight onto you again, your bare chests touching.

he grinds his cock through your slick folds, shuddering at the feeling. he presses his forehead onto yours and grabs the back of your head with one of his hands.

he reaches down and aligns his raw tip with your dripping hole, advancing into you finally. his jaw fell open at the feeling of your pussy gripping him.

"lu, mm," you whimpered, your mind going blank. he bottomed out and kissed your lips feverishly. the sensation of him fully in you was so overwhelming you couldn't do anything but lay there and take him. he raised his hips and slammed them back into yours, making you both moan.

"you feel so fucking good," he grunted through gritted teeth, his pace picking up. he looked down at your pussy taking him, watching his cock (which now had a ring of your arousal around the base) go in and out of you smoothly.

"god," he looked up at you and smiled, his perfect white teeth glistening. "you're amazing."

you wrapped your legs around his waist and forced him into you deeper, laying back in pure ecstasy.

the sound of his skin slapping on yours and the bed frame creaking filled the room.

it almost prevented you from hearing him sneakily turn on your vibrator.

while your eyes were closed, intoxicated on his dick, he pressed your vibrating toy onto your sensitive clit.

"oh my god," you nearly screamed, your back arching into him. he pressed you down flat again, still pounding into you while pinning the vibrator onto you.

you tried to force your legs shut but he grabbed your thighs, ferally forcing them back down on the mattress.

"It's too much," you moaned, trying to get away from him. you pushed on his lower stomach, trying to push him away. (you shamefully enjoyed the feeling of his hard abs rippling under your hand).

"you can take it," he kept on spreading you open, ruthlessly tormenting your pussy with his cock and now your toy.

"please, Luigi," you shouted, your voice mixed with pain and pleasure, "I can't do it."

he ignores your protests and blocks your throat with his hand again, successfully shutting you up and making you take it.

"that's it, pretty girl, you can do it." he leaned down to leave a peck on your forehead, but came back up quick to keep looking at you.

he thought you looked so gorgeous like this. it was electrifying, finally getting to have you. and to make you feel so good.

you resort to scratching your fingernails into his back, leaving your marks with every hard thrust.

he feels your walls clamp around him harder, his cock pulsing.

"you gonna cum again?" he asks you, knowing you cant say anything. he fucks into you impossibly harder than before, his cock hitting your cervix with every thrust.

"yeah, do it for me pretty girl, il mio tesoro, cum on my cock," he groans, still pressing the vibrator onto you.

you uncontrollably thrash under him, grasping onto his shoulder with your nails. your second orgasm hit you with much more force than the first, the coil in your stomach coming undone much harder. your vision went dark and you came all over his raw cock. you clamped around him so hard he almost couldn't fit inside of you, your cum overflowing all over the bed and his skin.

somewhere in your high, he turned the vibrator off and stored it away.

when you came down, he finally slipped out of you and fell back on the bed beside you, heavy breathing. sweat dripped down both of your bodies and the sheets was soaked beneath you.

you were too caught up in your own pleasure to notice that he didn't finish.

you finally opened your eyes and were met with him gazing at you, a light smile on his face.

"hey, bella ragazza, how are you?" he whispers.

"I'm better than ever."

"you need some water?" he asks, gently reaching for the water bottle on your nightstand. you nod silently. he holds the bottle up to you and you take a small sip.

"you probably need this more than me, you did all the work." you smile lazily. he shakes his head and smiles.

"I'm sure your throat is sore, drink."

you giggle.

"did you like that, by the way," he asks shyly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I did," you nod, affirming his worries, "maybe a little too much."

"oh, you're freaky." he laughs.

"hmph, only for you."

he takes a swig out of the bottle and your eyes fall down his body, noticing his dick is still hard.

"hey, lu, did you cum?"

"that'll be for another time baby, I have a frat party to attend to," he says, slipping out of your bed.

"you promise?" you hold onto his arm and whimper, desperate for him.

he leans down and kisses your forehead. "I promise. go to sleep now, we'll talk in the morning."

as your eyes flicker shut, he puts his once-discarded clothes back on. he grabs your panties and vibrator, shoving them into his pocket.

later that night, you felt the bed dip and a body pull your back against them. you tried to fight it, but their strong arms held you against them.

"shhh, its just me, go back to sleep." Luigi whispered against your hair.

MASTERLIST - PREV WORK

part 2 incoming where the rest of the frat brothers plan them a frat wedding and he Monica Lewinsky's all on my gown! or another part where he buys you a remote controlled vibrator and makes you wear it at another frat party??????? omg I am meaningless mush.

anyways I'm so emo bc we're not gonna see Luigi until January or February :( I hope he's okay :((((

!TAGS!

@strawbrriess @bellobambino @f4nfic-lover @btcowboy @chmpgneprblem @soggysouppp @hereandqueer6540 @poohkie90 @bricapallen16 @miarosalie11 @v1rtualsalvat10n @hypnotizedbyhood @webanglikethat @croucify @cumdnmp @ga33y3 @zeervzn @marzipanlvr @seesaw-it @raekensluver @ddlydevotion @hujirose @darleneslane

[cassiebones]

nobody can convince me that agatha and rio wouldn't have had more children had nicky not died, had Death been allowed to have living, semi-mortal children. They only lasted like 50 years before their eldest was born. They would have continued to make more babies for the next three hundred and beyond. Every time one of their children is old enough to basically fend for theirself, Agatha feels that longing for a baby and Rio can't deny her.

It takes three or four kids before Agatha has a kid that looks as much like her as Nicky looks like Rio. When this child, Mari (short for Mariposa), reaches adulthood, she develops that same little gap between her teeth (in modern times, she would have gotten braces, but she was born in the late 1700's okay, give her a break) so she does look somewhat like Rio, but she has bright blue eyes and her hair curls like Agatha's. She also has a similar power set to Agatha, which Agatha fosters as much as she could because nobody ever did that for her.

By modern day, they probably have about twenty kids, the youngest of which is still small enough to carry as they move into Westview, acting like a modern lesbian couple. They are single-handedly repopulating the witch community that Agatha killed off.

But they're happy and in love. All their children are pretty well-adjusted. Nicky still has a big heart. He's probably a doctor somewhere, moving around when people start to question why he doesn't age - at least until Eternals are accepted and superheroes just become more commonplace. Nobody questions why he looks like he's thirty-five when he should be closer to his seventies (nobody knows what his true age is) and he still visits his mothers. Due to the nature of his job, he doesn't always appreciate when Rio visits him at work.

Three of their children train as Reapers with Rio. The rest are scattered around the world, living their lives, but they always call their mothers, or they visit with their own partners and children.

The youngest three are juveniles, so they live with their mothers in the suburbs. They're as mischievous as Rio, causing havoc wherever they go, but they're studious, too, like Agatha, so they get good grades and do well in their magic studies.

When Wanda tries to start her bullshit, Agatha stops her, putting a pin in her grief. Instead of draining her power, she becomes a kind of mentor to Wanda. This Agatha never lost her son, but she does have a shit ton of trauma from her youth resulting from her own coven just refusing to teach her, and she recognizes Wanda as another untrained witch. So she trains her. She teaches her how to use the powers that she's familiar with. She gathers other witches (Lilia, Alice, Jen) to help her where they can. They converse with Stephen Strange on how to best help Wanda in her grief and magic.

I really wish Agatha's What If...? episode had been "What if Agatha had never lost her son?" rather than the Hollywood episode. Don't get me wrong: it was a fun fucking episode. But I just wish we'd seen more of Agatha being happy with her family.

[koenigami]

soft kissing hour. tags : fluff, fem!reader, touchy togame, mentions of reader wearing make up wc : 950 - Less is more. Togame likes to live by that simple rule in more than only one way. Whether that be his clothing, his minimalistically decorated home, or his decision to exchange his long messy mullet with a plain short undercut a few years ago. As cheesy as it sounds, he just thinks that it is important to appreciate the mundane things in life.

His conviction is even further undermined once your silhouette appears in the doorway of his bedroom.

It is the first time that you’re actually spending the night at his, and to say that he’s more than elated is an understatement.

Being able to watch you pad around his room in his own clothes, hold you in the comfort of his bed, and having the honor to have you being the last thing he sees before falling asleep as well as the first thing when he wakes up the following morning. The simple thought of it makes him only now aware of the fact that his home has been missing something significant all this time. You.

That's why you're met with the most gentle smile once you walk over to the unoccupied side of the bed, clad in an old shirt of his and sweat shorts.

A light shiver runs through your body accompanied with goosebumps rising along your skin once you slip under cold sheets. Yet when Togame's arm reaches out and pulls you in by your waist, you can't hold back the little hum of contentment once you feel his warmth.

You always tell him that he's a walking furnace. Especially on days when he calls you a living icicle. When your freezing fingers meet his warm palms, or when you bury your cold nose in the crevice of his neck, soaking in his warmth and the woody scent of his that you've gotten so very addicted to.

"I don't think I've seen you like this before." He speaks lowly once you're nestled against him, your head resting on his upper arm.

"Like what?" You breathe out and wonder whether he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. His lips are so close, all you would have to do is lean in the slightest bit only to taste him, slot your mouth against his and forget the entire world around you.

His soft gaze travels across your face. Your eyes, your lips, your jaw, your nose, again your lips-

Your eyebrows perk up when he opens his mouth, obviously unsure about how to word his thoughts. There's a stuttering beat against your chest, and you have no clue whether it is yours or his. A second passes, then another, and when the suspense is getting almost unbearable, Togame only sighs. You both giggle in unison when he just curses while a rosey blush suddenly dusts over his cheeks.

"Jo! Come on, just say it already." The corners of your mouth are starting to hurt from the bright grin plastered on your face. Though it falls slowly when his palm cups your jaw, and he just silently looks at you.

Your heart swells at how tenderly his thumb swipes over the skin of your cheek. Togame Jo, a man so strong yet a man who knows that the blessing of such a strength comes with certain responsibilities.

His broad shoulders and back have always been an advantage when facing adversaries, allowing him to intimidate them easily. Now, he knows that those same shoulders are meant to carry any burdens that seem to weigh you down.

Big strong hands that have punched and broken so much, been covered in blood for way too many times. Now, he can use those same hands to gently hold your softer ones in his, glide them over the plush skin of your curves and feel your warmth.

"What are you doing?" You giggle quietly when his thumb slides higher up to the corner of your eyes, tracing the dark shades which are usually covered by a light sheen of concealer. He can easily move the pad of his finger over your eyebrows and down your nose bridge without you whining about how he's messing up your make up.

"You're just-" You follow his eyes which somehow seem to drift all over your face, as if he wants to take in all of you and burn every single detail into his memory. There's just something so satisfying about being able to see every single mark and blemish on your skin, and it's crazy how he has thought that you could not be any prettier. Yet here you are, taking his breath away and leaving his mind empty, and unable to come up with words to properly describe you. "Pretty. Very."

A beat of silence passes, while you blink at him.

"My boyfriend has such a way with words." Your voice is a pitch higher as you fan your face, containing your smile with a bite on your lip until you shriek when his teeth suddenly graze your jaw.

"Maybe my girlfriend should have dated a poet instead then." There's something darker in his voice as he looks at you through hooded eyes. As if even the single thought of you with someone else is able to kindle a fire inside him that could only ever be extinguished by you yourself.

No, Togame may not be your classical poet. However the way his body language speaks to you, reacts to you, how his fingers trace all kinds of shapes into your skin, how his eyes roam all over your body, pupils dilating and throwing shadows into the green forest in his eyes- It's probably more worth than simple words on a piece paper.

"Nah." You quip and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer to him. The tip of your nose touches his. "I think I'm more than fine like this."

[nellielsss]

⋆꙳•❅‧₊⋆☃︎‧ Cԋɾιʂƚɱαʂ αƚ ƚԋҽ Fυʂԋιɠυɾσʂ!

Summary: It's Christmas-time at the Fushiguro household! Although not all the members of the house have the best impression of the holiday, everything is still merry and bright--no thanks to your grump of a husband and even more grump of a son... Ft: Toji Fushiguro & Megumi Fushiguro (reader is Mamaguro) Note: I am so incredibly sorry for going missing for months!! College A. Kicked my ass majorly, and B. made me extremely depressed, but we're back! ... for now. CW: light religious imagery, nothing too major! Pure fluff (I'm way too tired to do smutmas...)

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆ Toji never truly gave two shits about Christmas. The Zen'in Clan was anything but merry and bright, and until you and Megumi came into his life, he saw no reason to celebrate the holiday--that, and it was technically a christian holiday, and god knows Toji wasn't no saint who deserved presents.

Those were the two reasons he gave when it came to not celebrating Christmas, but there was a deeper, more painful reason that he wasn't fond of sharing...

Christmas reminded him of everything he didn't have.

He didn't have a loving family, he didn't have a warm home to decorate for Christmas, and he never had enough money to even buy gifts to begin with. He never had more than $100 in his checking account until he got a wife and a kid, even with all the money he earned from being a highly paid assassin. He also hasn't seen his family since he was 18 and was free of their legal guardianship, so suffice to say: he didn't give two shits about Christmas.

And that was where you came in!

Christmas was probably one of the best holidays in the whole entire world for you. It was fun and bright, always full of love and laughter and general excitement for you. Even if not every Christmas was great, you still did the best you could year round.

When Toji saw you decorating the giant tree that you'd (miraculously) set up all by yourself in the living room, he nearly spit out his drink. What the hell was an 8-foot pine tree doing in his living room? But when he saw the joy and excitement on your face, and Megumi's little hands playing with the ornaments you were going to put up, he bit his tongue.

Eh, sure, why not? Let the wife have her fun. Happy wife, happy life. What he didn't expect was for the antics to ramp up with every passing year.

Each year, the decorations would become bigger and better. There were more ornaments on the trees, more candles lit, more nutcrackers, more garland--more everything. It was like Hallmark came and threw up in your home and left. He knew he was in too deep when you swapped out the bedsheets for Christmas sheets.

He couldn't lie; he was also starting to go all out himself, at least on the presents. He found himself hitting up his handler, Shiu, for more jobs so that he could get Megumi and his little wife the stuff that they deserved. He'd never been showered in anything but hatred and disgust his entire life, and he'd be damned if his son went through the same shit he did.

Which is what led to Christmas morning, when said wife and said son were opening what they got.

"Look what Santa got you!" you chirped, handing a box to little 5-year old Megumi, who was trying to keep his best nonchalant grimace on his face (don't mind him--he's just going through an angsty teen phase).

"You don't have to say it was Santa, mom, I know it was you and dad," he answered while opening it.

That made you deadpan and go "ehh?" while looking at Toji. "Did that little punk from your homeroom say something to you again? Is he putting these ideas in your head?"

"Nah," he answered, opening up the stack of books that he was currently into. "It's hard not to confuse reindeers for dad's heavy footsteps, but I know reindeers wouldn't survive the Tokyo traffic."

"Hey, watch it, punk," Toji grumbled, reaching out to rub his knuckles into Megumi's head, making him whine and fuss.

Despite your son knowing that Santa Claus is, in fact, his mom and his dad, the little scene made you smile and laugh. You even reached out to take a photo of the little interaction between the two of them and save it for later. "Just hurry up and unwrap your presents, Toji. Let's see if daddy ended up with coal, hmm?" You teased, handing him a box with a smile on your pretty face.

"Yeah, I wonder what Santa got me," Toji said jokingly. His big hands effortlessly ripped off the pretty wrapping paper you so carefully wrapped, and he was met with the name "Rolex" staring back at him. His smile dropped for a second in shock, and he touched the wooden box as if it didn't truly exist. "Babe, you didn't have to-"

"Now I know you've got simple tastes, and I know you're a simple guy, but try it on! I'm sure you'll love it. Besides, I got a raise at work," you encouraged with a wink.

Toji opened the wooden box to see a beautiful silver Rolex watch with a green dial--perfectly matching his green eyes.

He was speechless for a second, earning a proud smile from your part. "I outdid myself, didn't I?" you giggled proudly.

"This is... I've never had somethin' like this before," he said, taking the watch out of the box. "Thank you so much, babe--this means so much to me."

"It's no problem- oof!" He cut you off by wrapping his big arms around your waist and pulling you in, all but squeezing you to death. He then put a kiss on your face and let go of you slightly. "It's n-no problem, really... although... those hugs of yours will give me problems."

Toji simply chuckled and handed you a box as well. "Now it's my turn to spoil my pretty wife," he retorted with a confident grin on his face.

His ogre of a dad calling his princess of a mom his 'pretty wife' earned a sideways grimace from Megumi while he flipped through his books, but he didn't say anything.

"I wonder what Santa got me," you wondered, mimicking his earlier words. You eagerly unwrapped the bow, took off the wrapping paper, and the words "Louis Vuitton" stuck out to you. "Toji, this is..."

"Yup," he said with a cheeky grin, puffing his chest out proudly. "Saw you eyein' this bag like it was your last meal, figured that meant you wanted it."

You slid the top off the box and gasped in excitement and childlike wonder. 6 years into your marriage, and you were still the same girly and excitable woman he first met. "Oh my god, a rainbow Louis!" You held it up with both hands and eyed it like it was, in fact, your last meal.

It was a black multicolor Louis Vuitton Alma bag, complete with a Hello Kitty keychain (that he took the liberty of picking out for you). "Oh, Toji!" You threw your arms around his neck and all but tackled him off the couch, and you pressed kisses all over his stubbled face. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love it so much!"

Toji grinned from ear-to-ear and simply patted you on the back while chuckling deeply. "Hey, only the best for my girl."

While you pressed kisses all over his face and hugged him tightly, Megumi looked over and grimaced once again. "Get a room, you two. And get off my mom, you ogre."

"Aw, shut yer trap, ya little grinch," Toji reached out and pulled his son into the hug, both arms wrapped around his beloveds. "I'll be damned if someone interrupts my time with either of you."

Despite Megumi's growing complaints and whines about wanting to be let go, you couldn't stop yourself from smiling and hugging Megumi as well. "Is my little Gumi mad about getting some hugs?" You asked the little boy, making him sigh dramatically and give up. He begrudgingly hugged the both of you, and he couldn't lie--getting a hug like this wasn't so bad. Not that the little sea urchin would ever admit that, of course. He had a reputation to uphold.

Looking up from his hug and loosening his grip on the both of you, he looked around at everything in the room, at the life he built for himself. He had a cozy home, presents under the tree, a beautiful wife and an amazing son. Toji truly was a simple man at heart, because this was all he needed.

"This is all a man needs to be happy," he muttered to himself with a slight smile decorating his face.

Christmas might've been rough for Toji growing up, but those days were behind him. Now, he had his loving family, and that was all a man needed to be happy.

© nellielsss on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 12/26/2024

[boredpotate]

Happier Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any links. I only own the concept for this story.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but has unforseen consequences.

Reader Pov

"Come on. I'm sure you look great. I wouldn't pick something that would make you look ridiculous." Powder says outside of the changing room I am in as I wear another set of clothing she chose for me.

After dragging me back to Zaun to give me a "tour", she immediately brought me straight to a clothing store since I didn't have any for myself currently and Isha needed more clothes after a paint bomb incident. Maybe back in my original world this wouldn't be a big deal, but it's been so long since I've actually went clothing shopping that I have no idea what to look for.

I tried to get out of it by saying I had no money, but she insisted on paying. I tried saying I could get some of my extra clothes back at my old place, but she wasn't having any of that. I tried voicing my concerns on not knowing what to even get, so she started picking out clothes for me. To be fair I did like some of them, but some just felt wrong on me. Especially the one I'm in now.

Meanwhile Ekko had the balls to just stand there and smirk with a knowing look; watching me suffer. At least Isha was having a good time and she even picked out some clothes for herself.

"I'm going to come in there myself if you don't come out." Powder says, not sounding like she's joking at all.

"Trust me. She's not joking." Ekko warns me and I can hear the smirk on her face.

"Okay! Okay! I'm coming out." I say before reluctantly stepping out of the dressing room and facing a smiling Powder and Ekko.

"There, you see? Look," she says as she grabs my shoulders and brings me to a full body mirror to look at myself with a smiling Powder now standing next to me. She picked out a blue and white striped shirt dress that ties around just above my waist, folded sleeves and the top three buttons undone, "You look good."

"I feel exposed." I say as I look at my reflection with hesitance.

'The last time I remember wearing a dress was in my original life. This is kinda weird.'

"Oh c'mon! It's good, plus you'll match with Isha." she says as she wraps an arm around my shoulder, making me confused before the child in question bursts out of her changing room.

I look over to see her in an unbuttoned long sleeved collared shirt with the same stripes and colors as mine with a white shirt underneath and dark blue shorts with white high socks to match. She runs over to Powder and I and stands in front of us to look at herself in the mirror.

"That isn't fair, why does she get pants and I get a dress?" I ask making Ekko and Powder laugh before Isha turns around and comes up to me and raises her arms to me.

"Because it wouldn't look as good if you two were wearing the exact same thing, soooo Isha get's the pants." Powder says which makes me roll my eyes as I pick up Isha, hold her in my arms and smile at how happy she looks.

"You didn't force this on her did you? Do you actually like it, Isha? Or are you two just conspiring against me?"

"Nope."

"MmMm" Isha denies with a shake of her head, but Powder gives her an obvious wink, making me roll my eyes again and Isha giggle.

"See! It looks good. Ekko come look," Powder asks Ekko who comes over and joins us, standing on the other side of Isha and I in the reflection of the mirror, "Oh yeah. This..... this looks great."

"I think it looks good on you." Ekko says while I take a moment to look at Isha and I's matching outfits in the reflection.

'I look like a mom from the suburbs."

"Isha seems to like it too." he adds on, and Isha nods her head rapidly; looking at the reflection.

*sigh* "......Okay, I guess it isn't that bad. I'll get it, if Isha likes it." I say, making Isha's smile brighter and hug me a tight hug.

"Nice." Powder says as she hold up a hand to Isha and they high five each other.

"Alright. I think that's enough clothes, right?" I ask Powder as I glance at the pile of clothes Isha and I have found to our liking.

"Fine, I guess that's enough for now." Powder says sounding dramatically reluctant, making Ekko huff.

"You're just upset you don't get to dress them up like dolls." Ekko says, getting a light slap on his shoulder form Powder as I set Isha down.

"I'm gonna get changed."

"Don't wanna wear it out?" Powder asks suggestively.

"I still have my gear to wear, maybe on another day Isha and I can match." I say as I head towards the changing room; Isha doing the same towards her.

"Don't think I can't see what you're doing."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

I catch their conversation but ignore it and focus on getting out of this dress and into more comfortable attire and putting my gear back on. I step out and notice Powder and Ekko seemed to have stepped aside to have a private conversation; whispering to each other, so I wait for Isha to be finished to give them room. It only takes a minute or two before Isha is done and steps out.

"Do you like the clothes you and Powder picked out?" I ask while taking the clothes from her to put into the pile. She nods her head before going to put on her helmet, adjusting it so it sits right.

"Sorry about that, I'm going to go pay for these. You guys wait outside." Powder says as she grabs the pile of clothes and hauls it to the cashier.

"I'm guessing she likes to play dress up with you too?" I ask Ekko with a teasing smirk as the three of us go wait outside the store for Powder.

"Oh yeah, you got off easy. The first time she took me out to buy clothes I thought I'd be stuck for eternity," he says, but has this fond smile on his face that says he still enjoyed it, "Anyways, you have any idea what you wanna see next?"

"I have no idea," I say as I look around at the different stores and take just how.... normal it all feels, "Still getting used to it."

I feel a hand pat my shoulder I turn to Ekko.

"Hey, I get it. Well I kinda get it. We were here as Zaun was changing, so it was easier to adapt with it; still weird though. Trust me, you'll love it up here after a few days." Ekko says, reassuring me. I relax at the comforting gesture.

"Thank you."

"I'm back!," I suddenly hear Powder say and Ekko yelps as he is immediately dumped with two bags of clothes, making me hold in a laugh at the surprised look on his face, "So where to next?" she asks more to herself than us as she thinks to herself; looking up and down the streets.

"I was thinking," Ekko says as he steadies himself and holds the bags in one hand, "Maybe we can take them to our usual spots? Where you and I hang out together?" he asks her making her perk up at the suggestion before looking at Isha and I for confirmation.

"Hey, you're the tour guide. I'm the tourist." I say with a shrug.

"What about you kid? Wanna see our favorite places?" she asks Isha, who grunts and nods excitedly before grabbing my hand in one and holding Powder's hand in the other, "Alright, let's go. C'mon babe." Powder says as she grabs Ekko's free hand and we make our way through Zaun. Occasionally giving Isha a swing from between Powder and I.

It was moments like these that made life feel normal. Peaceful.

We went browsing through a couple stores and market places. I got to see the depths of this new Zaun and just how much better things were here. Powder and Ekko showed me the usual places they go to spend time together from places filled with the community and places where they can have some privacy like the library I saw earlier; Isha actually got a book for herself. We even ran into Vi, Cait and Sevika while on their patrol and got to hang out with them for awhile before moving on to our next stop. Eventually what felt like noon came around so Powder and Ekko wanted to take Isha and I to a nice cafe that they like to go to and sit down for lunch.

"Trust me. They make some great coffee. Ekko got addicted to it for awhile, so I had to monitor him."

"By monitor me, she means follow me to the cafe and also order herself some coffee and pastries," Ekko clarifies, getting a nudge from Powder, "I ended up being the one to cut us off from having it on the regular."

"I mean, technically, it still worked." Powder says as I laugh and hold Isha. I noticed her getting tired and only purely running on kid energy, making her legs wobble a little so I decided to carry her to the cafe.

"Well I can't.... wait..." I say as I slowly stop, now noticing where we were heading.

The bridge.

Now filled with little market stands and people, but memories come back. Enforcers guarding the bridge. The segregation of two classes of people. Finding Pow- No. Jinx. Finding Jinx on the bridge after not making it in time again. Silco taking her away.

"Y/n?" Powder calls out ahead of me. I snap out of the memories, but my hesitance is still here. Only ever crossing this bridge once before, when we rallied together to fight against Viktor, Ambessa and their army.

"U-Um, so-so the cafe is in Piltover?" I ask already know the answer to that, "We can go there?" I hold Isha closer and guarded to myself and she looks at me worried. My eyes locked and unwavering; looking down the bridge to the other side.

My thoughts too chaotic to notice Powder and Ekko give me looks of concern before approaching me until I feel a hand grab my free one. I look to see Powder and Ekko standing close to me.

"Hey, it's okay. It's not like before; we're allowed to go to Piltover now." Ekko says, and his comforting tone, Powder's hand and Isha holding me close grounds me enough to not panic, but still filled with nervousness.

"Y/n, it's okay. No one is gonna hurt you." Powder says, keeping my hand held in hers and tracing over my knuckles with her thumb as comfort.

"Promise?," I ask, though after a moment I realize how childish I sound now that I think about it so I go to correct myself, "Sor-"

"We promise. It's okay. No one is going to hurt you Y/n," Powder says now interlocking her fingers with my own, "Right, Ekko?"

"She's right. We won't let anything happen." Ekko says before Powder starts leading me onto the bridge.

We walk a slow pace on the bridge as I look back and forth between the small market stalls on either side of the bridge. Seeing both people from Zaun and Piltover just going about their day, talking, bartering and just....... living. To my surprise I even see Jericho about halfway through the bridge serving enforcers that looked to be on their lunch break; he gives us a wave as we walk by and Isha returns the gesture. My nerves start to lower as we slowly make our way across bridge and I just take it all in. It doesn't take too long before we reach the other side into Piltover.

"See it wasn't tha-..... Oh. Are you okay?" Ekko asks as I look back at the bridge and feel some tears slip down my cheek.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean t-"

"Hey, hey! It's okay. It's fine. We got you," Ekko says as he reaches towards me to wipe the tears away, "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks. Sorry about that." I say which makes Powder roll her eyes and groan.

"Stop apologizing. It's fine; you're still getting used to all of this." Powder says before taking second to brush some hair out of my face and behind my ear, "There. Now c'mon, we need to make you an addict like Ekko and I. Not you Isha, you get juice." Powder says as she pulls me along and I see Isha put on a little pout at not being able to try the coffee.

"I'll let you sip from mine." I whisper to her, making her immediately perk back up.

Powder Pov

"Not bad right?" I ask Y/n as she sips from her mug of coffee and looking to be enjoying her drink. A satisfied moan as she drinks the beverage and it sends a tingle down my spine.

"Greeeaaat. Now we gotta prevent another addict." Ekko says as he enjoys a pastry, and Isha having stars in her eyes as she enjoys one of the many pastries on her plate that we got for her.

"I'll be back. I need to use the ladies room." Y/n says as she stands up from her seat and walks away, now giving me time to address something.

"Hey, now that she's gone. What do you think that was about back at the bridge?" I ask, making him think on it for a few seconds before sighing.

"I don't know. Her hesitating to cross the bridge made sense since she's not used to it. But her crying? I have no idea. Maybe something personal? She might have some bad memories on that bridge," Ekko suggests, but I can hear in his tone that he's not sure about his own theory as much as I am, "Whatever it is, we can help her get used to it. She's still adjusting to everything."

'True, but she looked ready to run away from the damn thing.'

"You're probably right. Anyway I was thinking, maybe I can help you with your project for the Innovator's Competition?" I ask and Ekko chokes on his coffee which makes me immediately start patting him on the back.

"Re-*cough* Really!? Why?"

"What, don't want my help now?"

"No, that's not it! I'm happy you want to help. It's just, you seemed pretty hesitant before. Why do you want to help now?" he asks and I shrug my shoulders.

"I don't know. I'm just...." I trail off as I look at Isha enjoying herself and gaze at Y/n's empty seat, "I'm just in a good mood." I say before feeling Ekko wrap an arm around my waist and pull me closer; I lean my head on his shoulder as he does.

"I know what you mean. You think she might want to help too? I know Isha will, she seems to love messing with your old gadgets." he asks, and I can hear the hope in his voice. To be honest that brought an odd feeling of hope to me too; now imagining Y/n joining Ekko and I with our work, or just watching us work from the the side.

"I hope so. She's going be living with dad and I for awhile, so it will be a good way to spend her time than just sitting in bed or something," I admit with hope in my voice, "I don't know about you, but I meant what I said back at the bridge. Even if this whole thing is a little weird. We need to keep her safe, okay?" I ask and he holds my hand in his own.

"I know. Don't worry, we'll protect her. She needs help adjusting and feeling safe here in Zaun, and we will do that for her," he says and Isha grunts and raises her hand while nodding her head, making me laugh as Ekko reaches over to ruffle her hair, "Of course you will too, Isha. We all will." he says, making me smile before glancing back at Y/n's seat.

"I like her." I admit after a few seconds; not knowing what the full meaning behind those words are.

"Me too." Ekko says as well and I can tell there's a deeper meaning behind his words too.

'Whatever it is. I don't want this feeling to go away.'

Hope you enjoyed.

[loveschoice-if]

DEMO COMING SOON...

A once-in-a-lifetime love... Loading...

You have been a faithful employee at Hanwool Group for about nine years, working diligently as the secretary to the current Vice President of Marketing, Park Joo-Seok. Although the world knows him as the future CEO of Hanwool Group and the most eligible bachelor in South Korea, you know him better as your arrogant and workaholic boss.

Now that you have paid off all of your outstanding debts, nothing is holding you back from quitting your job and maybe even starting a whole new life. Just as you're about to hand in your resignation letter, however, your chaebol boss comes to you with an unexpected proposition.

“Marry me.”

??!! Is he being serious? Will you accept his (albeit not super romantic) proposal?? What will happen next?! Play to find out!

Planned Features

Play as the female lead of your very own romance K-drama!

Experience many tropes from the wonderful world of K-dramas (or skillfully avoid them, it's up to you!)

Choose between four different routes, each with its own unique storyline, sub-genre, Male Lead™, Villains, and more!

Fall in love at your own pace, perfect for slow-burn and fast-burn lovers alike!

Will you follow the script to your perfect happy ending, or stumble into a tragic one?

The Male Leads™

The Boss

Name: Park Joo-Seok (박주석) Age: 32 Job: Vice President of Hanwool Group's Marketing Division

Pressured by his wealthy family to get married and take over the family business, but also feeling no desire to fall in love anytime soon, he turns to his loyal secretary of nine years (and the only woman he can trust) for help: you. All you need to do is enter a contract marriage with him and convince his family and the press that the two of you are truly in love. Can you successfully pull off this charade without catching feelings?

Inspired by What's Wrong With Secretary Kim?, Business Proposal, and Secret Life of My Secretary.

Tropes: office romance, contract marriage, fake relationship, rich man x poor woman

The Idol

Name: Yoo Jae-min (유재민) Age: 28 Job: Idol in the K-Pop industry, represented by X Entertainment

After turning down your boss' marriage proposal, he assigns you to work on a current marketing project involving one of the biggest stars in the K-pop industry, Yoo Jae-min. Previously known as the cutest member of the former boy group, NOVA, he is now a successful solo artist with a face card that never declines. But don't be fooled by his adorable on-screen persona. For whatever reason, he seems to have a personal vendetta against you. Can you successfully work alongside him without letting tensions boil over?

Inspired by So I Married My Anti-Fan, Sh**ting Stars, Lovely Runner, and Moon In The Day.

Tropes: idol romance, enemies-to-lovers, forbidden love, secret relationship

The Childhood Best Friend

Name: Lee Hae-jin (이해진) Age: 29 Job: Doctor, specifically a General Practitioner (GP)

After turning down your boss' marriage proposal and quitting your job, you decide to leave the high-paced corporate life and move back to your hometown on the coast. Turns out, you weren't the only one who had this idea. Once a successful doctor at one of the best hospitals in Seoul, your childhood best friend, Lee Hae-jin, now lives across the street from your grandmother's old place, where you are now staying. The thing is, you haven't spoken to him in over a decade, ever since your grandmother died. Will you break the ice and rekindle this old friendship, or is the past too painful to face?

Inspired by Summer Strike, Hometown Cha Cha Cha, and Welcome to Samdalri.

Tropes: friends-to-lovers, childhood meeting, second-chance romance, first love

The Grim Reaper

Name: Reaper Kim/Kim Saja (김사자)/??? Age: ???? Job: ...the Grim Reaper

You've turned down your boss' marriage proposal, and quit your secretary job after nine years of dedicated hard work. Now what? You find yourself sitting on the roof of a building, and you slip on something. Just as you're about to fall to a certain death, some person grabs you and pulls you back onto the roof. But this is no ordinary person. There's something oddly supernatural about him and a familiarity you can't quite place. He wants to strike a deal with you. What exactly is his agenda, and will you agree to his terms?

Inspired by Doom at Your Service, Goblin, and My Demon.

Tropes: supernatural being x mortal, doomed love, reincarnation, fated love, amnesia

Anticipated FAQs

Is MC gender-locked female & are the main love interests gender-locked male?

Currently, yes. Right now, it's just easier for me to write if I have consistent variables and characters in my head. It also helps me focus on just finishing the stories because I want to make sure each route gets the attention it deserves. Rest assured, I WILL introduce more gender options for both the MC and the main love interests, and it will be something I keep in mind as I'm writing!

How long is this game going to take to complete?

Unfortunately, it's probably going to take a really long time. This is one of the most ambitious writing projects I've done and life is unpredictable but I will do my best!

Are there more love interests/routes planned?

Um... is four not enough for you?! LOL just kidding! Right now, I just have four love interests/routes that are generally fleshed out. I'm very open to suggestions, so let me know if there is another type of love interest/sub-genre that you want to see represented!

Note: I will update this section as I get more questions :)

[southerngothicchic]

A Merry, Little Christmas Night

Merry Christmas, everyone! My gift to you is some Gator fluff 😘

Gator sits in his truck, holding a small velvet box. He stares at it for the longest time before tearing his eyes away from it to look over at your house. He sees the brightly lit Christmas tree through the window and the multicolor string lights that line the porch. It's a familiar sight that feels different tonight. The thought of seeing you makes him nervous, though he knows it shouldn't. He worries you'll reject him like so many have before. He doesn't think he would survive that, as you're the only person who really means anything to him.

He sighs before putting the box in his pocket and opening the door. Snow crunches under his boots as he walks up the slippery path towards the porch.

The sound of his heavy footsteps echoes off the old wood and in his ears as he briefly pauses at the front door. His hand hovers over the doorknob, his nerves almost getting the best of him before he goes inside.

He's immediately greeted with warmth not just from the baseboard heaters but from the overall mood in the house. He passes through the living room, fondly observing the decorations that have been there since Thanksgiving. His eyes are then drawn to the muted TV playing National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. He smiles, knowing it's your favorite Christmas movie. It's then that he notices the scent of cinnamon in the air.

He reaches the kitchen doorway and just watches as you take a tray of cookies from the oven. You seem to be in your own little world as you set the tray on the counter before adjusting the oven's temperature to bake the last of the dinner rolls to accompany the rest of your Christmas feast. Once you put them in, you turn away towards the sink and that's when he decides to finally make his move.

He stands behind you, slipping his arms around your waist and presses his lips to your ear.

"Hey gorgeous," he softly greets, startling you.

You hiss his name before turning to look at him.

"You shouldn't sneak up on me like that," you scold, turning to face him.

"I couldn't help myself, wanted to surprise ya," he defends, pulling you tightly against him.

"Its okay," you then smile. "I'm just glad you're home. I heard we're in for another snowstorm tonight and I hated the thought of you still out on the road."

"I can handle myself out there, honey, ya know that," he replies, confident.

"I know, but still-"

"Nope, don't wanna hear it," he dismisses, cradling your face. "Just wanna kiss ya, since I've gone all day without it."

"So dramatic," you tease, as he leans in.

"Damn, so mouthy already," he smirks. "I think I need to take ya to bed and give ya an attitude adjustment."

"Not until after we eat," you reply, unfazed. "I didn't spend all day slaving over all this food for nothing."

"Fine," he huffs, with playful annoyance.

He then finally kisses you and it's more intense than you expect. Your body melts into his as he kisses you deeply. Regaining yourself, you gently push him away with a sigh of his name.

"I just really missed ya, honey," he says, suddenly bashful.

You smile up at him. "I know, I missed you, too, handsome. Now, go get changed so we can eat."

He nods, begrudgingly releasing you from his embrace. He gives you one last peck on the lips before heading towards the back bedroom.

He's glad to change into warmer, more comfortable clothes, as he puts on a forest green sweatshirt with black sweatpants. He also takes the little velvet box from his camo pant pocket and holds it in his hand. He's decided he's going to ask you after dinner, with hopes that he won't ruin Christmas.

When he reenteres the kitchen, he sees the table all set and waiting for him. He has to quickly blink away tears as he doesn't want you to see him cry just yet.

"Well, what do you think?" You ask, posing like a display model next to the table.

"Its perfect," he answers, walking over to you. "Just like you."

He kisses you sweetly and feels you smiling into it.

During dinner, he thinks how this is a preview of how all your Christmas' are going to be from now on and that almost brings another tear to his eye. He loves how effortless it was adjusting to the domesticity he's craved all his life. How you seemed to adore him, even when you pretended you didn't. He's never loved you more and his anxiety quietly builds as you join him on the couch to watch his favorite Christmas movie, Die Hard.

You hand him a couple of oatmeal raisin cookies you had baked earlier that afternoon and he quickly devours them. Giggling, you ask if he liked them and he nods so cutely. You hurry back to the kitchen and bring the rest of them to him, in a plastic bowl. He proceeds to eat them over the course of the movie.

By the time the credits roll, you're curled into his side, almost asleep. He glances at you before gently nudging you awake. You then look up at him, so groggy and sweet, he thinks his heart could burst.

"Sorry, honey, I just have something really important I wanna talk to ya about," he explains, as you raise your head from his chest.

"Okay..." you reply, unsure of what could be so important he waited to tell you now.

"Wait, you don't have to work tomorrow, do you? I swear, the next time I see Roy I'm gonna-"

"No, it's not that. I'm off, don't worry" he quickly assures. "It doesn't have anything to do with work, it's about you and me."

Your brows furrow as you look at him intently.

"Am I going to like where this is heading?" You then ask.

"Yeah, well, I hope so," he answers before taking a deep breath. "Until I met you, I didn't know anything like this was possible for me. A lot of girls thought I was a joke, which wasn't helped by my dad always makin' fun of me, so I really didn't date much after high school. I just focused on becomin' a cop, which wasn't hard, since I was the best shot in the academy. As years went on though, it got pretty lonely and I was startin' to wonder if there was anyone out there for me. Then, one day you showed up and when I walked up to your window and looked inside, I got this feeling, like, it was fate."

"So, love at first sight on a traffic stop?" You ask with a smile and he nods.

"Yeah, guess it was, because after that I always wanted to be near ya," he smiles, in return, gently taking your hands.

"I guess I was pretty smitten when I first saw you, too," you admit, gazing into his eyes. "You were the cutest cop I'd ever seen."

"I could tell ya liked me right off," he grins, "and after our first date, when I kissed ya for the first time, I didn't want to stop."

You move closer to him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"I didn't want you to, either," you reply, sultrily.

You slip your hands out of his and drape your arms around his neck.

"Like, right now," he begins, his eyes lowering to your lips. "If I were to kiss ya, I wouldn't be able to stop."

"Which is what I'm counting on," you smile, but he pulls away.

"I can't yet, I still have more to say," he replies.

You nod and he continues, "I love you more than I ever thought I could love someone and I don't want to ever go back to how my life was before you, so..."

He leans back slightly and reaches into his pocket and retrieves the small box. Once you see it, your eyes widen and your arms drop from his shoulders.

"Will you marry me?" He asks while opening the box, revealing a modest diamond ring.

You actually gasp, already making him regret asking.

"I know it's not much, but I-" he adds before you lean forward and press your lips to his.

He doesn't move at first, unsure of what's happening.

"Yes," you breathe as you kiss his plush lips.

You repeat the word a few more times and his brain finally registers it. He then excitedly reciprocates your kiss. You both get so caught up in each other, temporarily forgetting what led to this impromptu makeout session.

"So," he pants, pressing his forehead to yours, "you really wanna marry me?"

"I do, is that so hard for you to believe?"

"Kinda, when you're like the girl of my dreams..." he answers

"Who knew you could be so sweet?" You ask with a laugh. "I think you need to make it official, though."

You pull away slightly and present your left hand. A lovesick smile spreads across his lips as he takes the ring from the box. He slips it onto your finger and is relieved when it fits perfectly.

"I love it," you say, holding up your hand. "And I love you."

"I love you, too," he begins, with a sly smile. "Now, wrap your legs around me again so I can finally take ya to bed."

You smile in return, moving closer and tightening your legs around him. He then lifts you with ease and carries you to the bedroom.

He then spends the rest of the night showing how much he loves you, until you both collapse in each other's arms, covered in hickies and sweat.

As he drifts off to sleep, a feeling of calm settles over him, for the first time. His fears of rejection seem so silly now when you're laying in his arms, so sweet and serene. He should've known all along that you'd never hurt him like that. He sighs contently before nuzzling his face into your neck.

After so many years of emptiness, he's finally found a place where he belongs and the love he's craved all his life.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Christmas Special

(5.6k words, wrote this in 24h <3 Merry bloody Christmas, guys! TW murder, I guess. Nothing too detailed, tho)

I woke up with a headache. Not a hangover, mind you. I am above getting such things, and in any case it's unfitting for a man such as I to get drunk. No, I had one of those classical headaches, the likes of which are received after a fine blow to the head.

That naturally implied another assassination attempt. How coarse. I opened my eyes and tested my bonds. There were none. Either my captors were convinced I would not run, or they were remarkably incompetent fools indeed.

The room I was held in was… strange, for lack of a better word. There were bright lights that danced across the ceiling, a roaring fireplace, and a table chock full of meats, vegetables, and grains. Yet, that was not the greatest surprise of all.

There was, for unfathomable reasons, a massive tree. Just— sitting, in the center of the room, dominating the festivities. It was gaudy with glowing lights, glittering twine, and baubles infesting its surface. 

Oh, and there were people. Lots of them, in fact, all looking equally confused. We were draped on sofas, sprawled out on armchairs, resting against walls. I was, perhaps, the first of us to wake up, and I swept a watchful eye across the room.

A surprising number of familiar faces caught my eye. Hash, my darling, was there, along with her lowborn friend the vampire. And, would you believe it? There was my old nemesis, the Godhuntress herself, lying blissfully unconscious, just waiting for me to kill her.

By instinct, my hand found its way to my dagger. Some of the bloodlust must have shown on my face, for I caught a mortal boy flinch and hide behind his companion. 

I was halfway to her exposed throat when said companion grabbed my wrist. “You don't want to do that,” she murmured, and her tone gave me pause. It was far too weighty to belong to a mortal, the regality in it far more reminiscent of one of us ancients.

I turned to her and showed off my best smile, the one with all my teeth. She didn't so much as blink at it. “Oh, believe me, miss. I really do. Nothing, and I mean nothing, in this world would grant me more pleasure than snuffing out the life of this vile monster. Now, how about you let me go about my business, hmm?”

She remained imperturbed. “Not happening, kid. Now, how about you tell me what's going on? I don't like this one bit.”

I shrugged and withdrew my blade. Under that strangely cold grip of hers, I sensed a power I did not want to mess with. “Damned if I know. Last I remember, I was in bed, sleeping.” 

“Your kind sleep?” She sounded skeptical. “Actually, what the hell are you?”

“I could say the same of you, miss,” I replied. “But I suppose I'll go first, shall I? I'm a forest spirit, and you may call me Hans.” I left the last portion of my name unspoken, for no one as versed in inhuman dealings as I would ever give my name freely. A damned shame that mine was so short, however. Two syllables was not a great deal of room to make aliases with.

“Katherine, and I suppose you could quantify me as a demon.” She paused. “You don't look like a spirit to me. How old are you?”

I crinkled my nose at her. “Old enough to handle my own, Miss Katherine. And you're one to talk, wearing the face of a little girl. Don't the humans call that pedophilia?”

“No, you're pedo-bait. I'm jailbait. There's a difference, pipsqueak.” The smile was slipping off her face. “Or maybe your little-boy brain is just too underdeveloped to understand that?”

I didn't take the bait. “Fortunately for us, that's not the case. And if you'll excuse me, I'll go find someone more cordial to chat with.” The Godhuntress was stirring, and much as I wanted her dead, a fair fight with her was not one I would win. 

The demoness Katherine let me go, turning back to her mortal boy-toy. I beelined to Hash, the one soul in that room I trusted wholeheartedly. “Wake up, my dear. We've got trouble.”

At that last word, he bolted awake. “Trouble?” He surveyed the room. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Trouble.”

The two of us watched as more and more people got up. The vast majority of them were humans, gangly and pock-marked and over-solid, though I did catch glimpses of spirits and others of our ilk here and there. Katherine was attempting to interrogate the Godhuntress, something I wished her the best of luck with. If I was fortunate enough, perhaps they would get into a fight, and at least one of my problems would be solved.

“We should try to investigate,” Hash whispered. “Someone must know something, yea?”

“If you are so inclined, do it yourself.” I pursed my lips. “I think I shall wait for them to come to me. And sample the food, while I'm at it.”

“Are you crazy? We don't know where it's from. We don't know what it's made of. We don't know jack shit, and you want to play it cool? Have you finally lost your marbles? The only kind of person who would act so casually in this scenario is-” He stopped in his tracks. “Oh. So that's your game. I like it. Dangerous as fuck, but that's life, isn't it?”

“Yes, that is life. Now hop to it, my love. Between the two of us, I think we can get a grip over this crowd in no time.”

Hash gave me a final nod, and strolled off. The first thing I did was grab a glass of wine. Everyone looked more suave like that, and it gave me an excuse to put myself in the center of the room. Several curious eyes followed me as I picked up a plate of venison on the way back, and it was not long before the first of my visitors followed.

She was a young woman, something I sensed would be a common theme in the hours to come, with a spear in hand and an unquenchable rage about her. I swirled my drink in its cup and waited for her to speak.

“Hey! Creepy little boy.” In my own name, was I going to have to be called little boy all evening? “Tell us what's going on, or I'm gonna shish-kebab you with my spear.” 

“I have no idea what you mean,” I replied, pretending to be preoccupied with the vortex within my flute of wine. That glorified stick of hers was hardly sharp enough to pierce a slice of bread, let alone me. “Why would you think I know anything at all, dear?”

“Because you're the only person who looks even slightly at home here? Everyone else is freaking out, and you're just sipping a drink. What are you, one of Santa's elves? Krampus' stolen children? Why are we stuck in a Christmas celebration?” She waved her spear around threateningly.

That was interesting. I did not know what Santa or Krampus were, but I did know the elves, and I knew I could not hope to pass for one in my life. “Maybe,” I said, winking. “Or maybe not.” With luck, she would elaborate.

The girl seemed to only grow angrier at my words, leveling her spear at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hash watch me with alarm. I shook my head slightly, warning her not to rescue me. It would be for the best if we did not show our hand yet. 

“Come on then. Aren't you going to stab me already?” I spread my arms, offering her a clear view of my chest. She narrowed her eyes, and for a moment I felt a genuine flash of fear. Beneath that gaze was something that writhed and fed on rot, something old as time itself and hardly less conquerable.

And then it was gone, as an old man grabbed her weapon and pulled it from her grasp. “Athena! What the hell are you doing?” He was followed by another human boy and… a summoner? 

Yes, a summoner, or something akin to it. I had not seen one of her kind in a very long time. The plot thickened. I have the newcomers a lazy smile, and they responded by tensing up.

“What on earth are you?” That was the summoner, pushing angry little Athena behind her. “You're not human, that's for sure.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Athena snapped, wrestling her spear back. “That thing knows something. I'm sure of it.”

The summoner met my gaze, piercing me right through. “No he doesn't,” she said, before I could recover. “He's bluffing.”

“Excuse me?” I pushed myself out of my chair, going nose to nose (or nose to collar, as the case was) with her in not-so-faux rage. “I know plenty, little mortal. For starters-” Pulling her down by the scruff of her tattered shirt, I whispered in her ear. “I know your little girl is cursed. I know that you are a witch, and a good one at that. And, I know that you really do not want to go back to where you came from, so how about you enjoy the food and leave me be, hmm?”

That last line was nothing more than an educated guess, but it paid off. They were too scruffy and thin to have been living in safe conditions, and I caught sight of more than one open sore on them. 

Gears turned in the summoner's brain, wondering if it was worth the cost to call my bluff. Eventually she stepped away from me. “My apologies, sir,” she said, nodding politely. “We'll leave you be.”

I grinned. “Thank you very much, little one. Go try the venison, if you feel peckish. I find it delightful.”

Athena opened her mouth to argue some more, but the summoner gave her a warning glance, and she left with naught more than a glare at me. Settling back in my chair, I took another sip of the wine.

“Hey, you're Hash's boyfriend, aren't you?” On the list of things I did not want to be called, that somehow ranked below ‘creepy little boy'. I turned to see Hash's vampire friend, still wearing his Smiley Mart™ shirt. What was his name: Dane? Dale? Dave?

Yeah, Dave sounded about right. “Hello, Dave,” I said, turning back around so I did not have to look at him. “Is there something you want?”

“Hash told me to come find you. She said you could use my help?” He stepped around so I was facing him once more. “I really don't know what to do, honestly.”

I sighed. “Go interrogate someone,” I told him, more to get him off my back than anything else. “Actually, go keep an eye on some people for me.” I pointed out the Godhuntress, who was flapping her wings in an attempt to get a mortal girl to stop poking them. 

“Is that who I think that is?” Dave's eyes widened. “You think this was her doing?”

“Hmm? Of course not. I want you to tell me when she looks distracted so I can go kill her.”

“You're crazy,” he said. “That's the Godhuntress. You know, the greatest deity since the Creator herself? Yeah, that Godhuntress. She'll squash you like a bug.”

“Doesn't matter. I will find a way.” I clenched my glass. “She took something very precious from me, and I will take my revenge, one way or another.”

“Alright, alright. It'll be a hell of a story to tell, in any case.” He made to leave, then turned back. “Say, is that wine any good? I'm feeling rather thirsty.”

I considered it. “It is rather dry,” I replied. “But fruity, too. Take that as you will.”

“Cool. Thanks, Hash's boyfriend,” he said, and the glint in his eye told me he was calling me names in insult. Unfortunately, by the time I had registered it, he was long gone.

People were beginning to crowd around the tables, finally encouraged to touch the food. That was when I spotted someone I had thought I would never see again: Merida Ryder. And with another forester at that! 

For once, curiosity got the better of me, and I trotted over to talk to her. She would not recognise me, of course. I had taken great pains to disguise myself that time, and I wondered how she would feel seeing my true face for once. 

“Well, well. If it isn't miss Merida, all grown up. Remember me?” I tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned around, and it broke my heart to see how she had changed. Her eyes were sunken, the lights gone from them. Merida looked down at me, and there was no spark of recognition. “No,” she said flatly.

The forester turned around, and he let out a little gasp. “You're-” I shushed him. 

“Can you not see I am trying to talk to someone here? It is most lovely to see a fellow Ces-ilre, but I must speak to Merida first,” I said. “Are you sure you don't remember me? I passed you that gun, all those fateful years ago.”

She blinked slowly. “Don't. I don't want to remember.” Merida shuddered. “Go away, Hans. Thank you for your help. I absolve you of the favours you owed me.”

I am not and have never been a stranger to suffering, but it hurt to see her crushed like that. “So you do recognise me,” I continued. “What happened, Merin? You used to be so happy.”

“I grew up.” 

And that was all she would say on the matter. The forester extracted my hand from her shoulder and led me back to my couch. I let him, of course, something in the hollow cavity where my heart should be aching. 

“You're the Spirit Emperor,” he whispered to me, snapping me out of my reverie. “What are you doing here, my lord? And how did you know Merida?”

“Same as you, and that is none of your business,” I whispered back, slipping into forester dialect. “What is your name and clan, sirrah?”

“Kristavla, formerly of the Ko clan. My lord.”

“So you were there when… the Incident happened.” I jerked my chin at the Godhuntress, now attempting to engage a very uncomfortable Dave in conversation. Or perhaps she was interrogating him.

“No. I was attending to my fiance, my lord. The late Kitsy Te-clan.”

“Oh. I killed her, did I not?” I vaguely remembered a foul-mouthed guard who had insulted me the moment I arrived on castle grounds.

“Yes, and I thank you for it.” Kristavla shook his head. “I will not speak ill of the dead, but she was not a good woman.” 

“I can imagine that.”

We sat there in silence for a few more moments. “Would you like to help me avenge our people?” I gestured again to the Godhuntress, who was being fawned over by a lich of some kind. “We may not get another chance.”

“I am not one for vengeance,” Kristavla said. “But you are a friend of my friend. And so I will. For you, my lord, and for our people, may their remains soak the earth.”

“Thank you. Be on your way, friend,” I told him. “Speak with the vampire in the demeaning costume—” I had to approximate a word for Dave's Smiley Mart uniform— “and see if you can isolate and weaken her. From there we shall make the kill.”

Kristavla nodded, and slipped away. Taking his place (for it seemed I would have an endless supply of supplicants today), was a lean, sly doctor. Her red hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and her skin was dry enough to resemble scales.

“Hello, Spirit Emperor,” she hissed. “Fancy seeing you caught up in the Christmas web.”

There was that word again. Christmas. “Care to explain, doctoress?” I offered her a seat. She was about as human as I, with the way she moved, though I could not tell what on earth she was.

“I am an Oracle,” she rasped, as though reading my mind. “And my people arranged this felicitous meeting.”

I froze up. “I see. And why should I believe you?”

She laughed, a sound that had more in common with the death of a small furry animal than anything friendly. “Your name is Hans-el Ko-clan. You killed and ate your parents to save the Goddess of Dreams. Your lover is a shapeshifter who will not tell you its true name, and you hold a grudge against the fallen angel they call the Godhuntress.”

“All very impressive,” I agreed. “ But any old fool could have worked that out with the right background knowledge. Tell me something nobody knows.”

The Oracle grinned, revealing red and raw gums. “Careful what you wish for, little boy.” She shifted closer, and I could smell the blood on her breath. “You claimed the throne by mimicking the magic-thieving spell the Godhuntress used on your dear friend. You helped the renegade Merida start the civil war in Palioden by orchestrating a situation in which she had to kill her sister using a gun you provided. And, as the topping on this pie, your worst fear is-”

“No!” It came out louder than I expected, and more than a few heads turned our way. “I believe that you are an Oracle. Please, do not continue this.”

The Oracle leaned back, victorious. “Good boy,” she murmured, proving that there was, in fact, a nickname I could dislike more than ‘Hash’s Boyfriend'.  “Now, I suggest you stop hiding in this little corner and get to moving the plot forward, will you, dear? You ought to be an active protagonist.” She pushed me off my chair. “And be grateful we didn't send you the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present or Future.”

Before I could ask her what the ghosts, or even Christmas, were, she was gone. Not gone like a ghost walker, or like a teleporter. Gone entirely, as though she had never existed in the first place. I shook my head to ward off the strange feeling, and got up. It was unwise to disregard an Oracle's warnings.

I was about to approach a random person, when someone once again came to me. For once, she seemed perfectly normal. “You look like you know what's going on,” she said without preamble. “Care to explain?”

“Unfortunately for you? I do not,” I informed her, pausing to pick up a few jellies and put them onto my plate.

“Well that's not very polite of you, seeing as I know what Christmas is and you don't,” she replied, taking a few jellies of her own. “And I hear you killed your parents too. We've got that in common, at least.”

That gave me pause. She didn't look like a mage of any kind. “And how did you do that, little girl? With a knife? A pillow to the face at night?”

“A death ray, actually. I'm Mara. Nice to meet you, Hans,” she informed me, sticking her hand out. “You're the talk of the party, you know. They say you're an Emperor.”

“And just who might this ‘they’ be?” Blasphemous gods above, did she ever shut up? 

“Well, Visitor over there, and his buddy Aida. They're from Palioden, which a few little birds tell me is a land in your world. Which, if you can't tell already, I'm not from.”

“What?” 

Mara giggled. “You heard me, Mr Spirit Emperor. I'm not from your world. And if I eavesdropped right, they-” she pointed at Athena's crew- “aren't either. The creepy girl who stopped you from killing that goddess too.”

“The Godhuntress isn't a goddess,” I snapped. “She's nothing but a grandiose genocider. And how did you know about me and Katherine? Everyone was asleep.” 

“I happen to be really good at pretending to be asleep. Picked up the habit in kindergarten.” I tiptoed to pick a cream puff off the top of its tower, and she helped lift it down for me. 

“Thank you. So what do you want, Mara-murderer? A boon? As you have ascertained, I know naught more about this place than you.” Finally, that was a lie. The Oracle had provided me with some excellent information.

“I want to help you kill that bitch. The Godhuntress, or whatever her name was.” Mara's eyes glinted with bloodlust.

“Why?”

“She disrespected me,” Mara snarled, cracking her knuckles. “I was wondering what she was, and I poked her wings, and would you believe it? That fucking bitch slapped me. Me! No fucking warning.”

I was deeply surprised to hear that the Godhuntress had not done worse than a mere slap for the insolence of grabbing her wings. But any aid was welcome aid, especially from someone as adept at spying as Mara appeared to be. “I see. Let's team up, shall we?”

“Excellent.” She rubbed her hands together. “I know that pretty elf girl and the convenience store dude are on your side. Is the other spirit with you too?” I nodded. “Mmkay. I'll tell them everything I know, and report back.”

“Certainly,” I replied. Mara let out another disturbing giggle, and ran off. There was something deeply wrong with that girl, I decided.

I drifted down the table, plucking up more desserts as I went. The talk of the party, was I now? I could certainly see it. More than one person parted way to let me pick out my food, and I saw a distinct wariness in their eyes. Then again, it was but my dues. 

I passed by a Luxatian Crusader in full armour, and she nodded at me. “Spirit.”

“Knight.” For once, I was having a normal encounter. For once, nobody was questioning me about Christmas, or Santa, or Krampus, whatever they were. For once-

The knight unsheathed her sword.

I moved to dodge the blow, but it never came. Indeed, she was not so much as looking at me. Her eyes were trained on someone else, instead. A lich.

“You,” the knight snarled. “Iraela Foundling. The Lich-Queen. I swore an oath to defeat you. And now, I shall.” Ah. It seemed I was not the only one with a grudge to satisfy. 

The Lich-Queen blinked, and eloquently croaked out, “What?”

“I am going to watch your unlife spill out onto my blade, foul beast. You killed my family, my entire village. I watched your ghouls eat my sisters. They were six years old, Lich-queen. I had to run while they begged me to save them.” Tears sprung to the knight's eyes. “You are a monster of the foulest kind, and a fog shall lift the day you die.”

“A monster? Damn right I am a monster,” the lich announced. “I am the monster humanity made of me. Your kind declared me cursed, broken, unlovable. All I did was listen to their words. You should have known it by now: a child not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth. And all I ever wanted to feel was warm.” She threw her arms wide. “Go on. Slay me. Continue your precious little cycle of hatred. One day, the people I saved, the ones your family scorned, will avenge me.”

A glint in her eye told me she had no plans of going down so easily.

The Crusader spat on the ground. “Spare me your lies, Lich-Queen. Your pretty words will not sway justice.”

I sighed. I knew what kind of woman turned herself into a lich, and it was hardly the sort who a mere knight could defeat. If nobody stopped that fool knight, she was going to get herself killed.

In a flash, I was standing behind the Crusader, barely reaching her underarm. A quick knockout spell later, and she was down, keeling over like a metal doll with its strings cut.

The room had fallen silent. Everyone, even the Godhuntress herself, watched me. I resisted the urge to declare my undying hatred of her, and instead gave a cheery wave to the room. 

The Lich-Queen let her arms fall. “Say, might you be the Spirit Emperor?”

I nodded. “The one and only. And a little bird—” I prodded the unconscious knight with my foot— “told me you were the Lich-Queen. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“And I yours.” She offered her forearm, and I took it. “I actually knew your predecessor: Sucsu'anane.”

That name belonged in our history books. Sucsu was old, and infamous. “But that would make you the first Lich-Queen,” I murmured. “You- It was you who started the Runic wars! It was you who caused the shifters to die out!”

I was staring a legend in the face, a woman who had caused horrors long before my time, horrors that echoes for all eternity. “By the false gods, it is good to meet you! What an honour, Lady Iraela. What an inspiration you were to me.”

I might have spread the flattery on too thick, but Iraela lapped it all up. “Why, you're too kind. Let me tell you: ruling is all in the flair. Why, for my coronation…”

I let history's greatest disaster lead me by the arm to a nice corner, where she proceeded to chatter my ear off. For once, I shall spare you the details. Suffice to say, I learnt more about the history of the Deadlands than I ever wished to know. 

“Let me tell you something, Hans,” she said, interrupting her own monologue.

“Hmm?”

“I heard you knew a shifter named Hash. Well, I met him too.”

That made me perk right up. I'd known Hash was older than I, but that old? Fascinating. What else was he hiding from me?

“Don't trust him. He betrayed us all. We would have won the war, if that little bastard hadn't run off to the elves and spilled the beans. We could have been great, Hans-el. Our peoples, the vampires and the spirits and the ghouls, could have ruled the world. But Hash was soft. Do not let that softness corrupt you,” she warned. “It will rot you from the inside, and when your enemies scoop your guts out, they will not so much as give you the gift of eating you alive.”

“I know,” I replied. “My mother was soft, and it brought her naught but suffering. Our people revile it.”

“And yet you love him,” Iraela commented wryly. “That alone tells me enough about you.”

I did not dare lie and disagree. “Yes, I do. But Hash can take care of himself, now. He's slippery as hell.”

“Yes, that much I have seen from tonight's festivities. But that is the point, is it not? He will slip your grasp and betray you, just as he did the shifters. One day, you will make a cruel choice, a choice for the greater good, and his soft little heart will push him to betray you. All because you weren't hard enough to cut him off.”

I stood up, suddenly reminded of my conversation with the Oracle. My greatest weakness indeed, I thought. “That may be so, my lady. He may betray me, and leave me dead in the gutter. But that is a risk I am willing to take.” I brushed invisible dust off my skirt. “All you are is a woman who failed to rule the world, Lady Iraela. At the end of the day, all you have is your love's blood on your hands and a heart you wrenched out of your own chest. Even if I lose it all, at least I loved, and was loved in turn. For someone who went on and on about needing to feel warm earlier, you just do not seem to understand that, do you?”

Iraela laughed. “So young,” she whispered. “So young and so foolish. They'll make mincemeat out of you, little Emperor. And I'll laugh at you from my grave.”

I strode away from her, back stiff and fists clenched. I could take insult all day, but this? This firm condemnation? It stung. It stung like my father's whippings. It stung and I wanted to never think of it again.

I was still standing about, willing emotion away from me, when Mara tapped me on the shoulder. “Come on,” she said, grinning. “Buncha tables appeared. I grabbed one for us. Your little vampire friend got dragged off to hang out with the rest of his kind, but it seems I'm free to roam.” She laughed maniacally. 

She led me to a table. Hash, my Hash, my brilliant, softhearted friend, grabbed my arms and all but pulled me by his side. “Check this out: That vampire's got a tan!” He pointed a woman in work clothes, conversing animatedly with Dave. “Apparently, she's a field researcher. Can you believe it?”

“Yes, I can,” I agreed numbly. 

“Oh, and this Christmas thing! Mara told me all about it. Apparently, they eat turkey and give gifts and celebrate this saint of theirs. I don't have a gift for you, but I figured this might do!” He pointed at the Godhuntress and lowered his voice. “I cut a sleeping rune onto her piece of turkey while I was carving it. She doesn't know know to use the cutlery, so when she bites into it, the spell will activate, and it'll be your chance! Whaddya think?”

He really was sly. “Brilliant, my love,” I whispered, my mind still on the Lich-Queen. “What else did you find?”

He scrunched his nose up and thought. “Um, the God of Evil's here, and he's a pretty chill guy. The Godhuntress' daughter's here too, and she's got an axe to grind with dear old mum, too, but I convinced her not to do anything drastic. There's some poor blue fellow in the corner, and he's got some kind of curse. I didn't go too close, but he seems… different from the rest of us. When we're done, we should go investigate.”

Beside me, a man in a strange vest sat down. “Hello there, lad,” he began, only to fall silent when he met my eyes. “You're no child. You're a monster.” He stumbled back, clutching his hand to his chest. “Maya? Let's find another table.”

Hash barely hid back laughter as he all but fled the scene, the girl he called Maya giving me a wry smile and nod as she followed. “Now, where was I? Oh, yes. The others. Look over there. No, not at the demon-girl. The blondie and the redhead next to her.”

“I recognise the others at that table,” I told him. “Kristavla and Merida.”

“Yeah, Kris was helping us out earlier. The redhead? Apparently an infamous mind-mage. She fuckin conquered an entire city, all on her own. And the blond girl's a spell-snapper. Ugly combo, if you ask me. They're from the same era as us, but Nyctomachian.”

“And them?” I pointed at Athena and the one-eyes summoner. “They damn near called my bluff.”

“Yeah, they bothered Dave real bad too. Something tells me they're not gonna harass us again, though.” He grinned at me. “A certain someone may have implied that he was the reason they even ended up here.”

I wanted to facepalm. “Damnit, Hash. That was exactly what I told them too.” I looked over at them, deep in discussion. The old man met my gaze, and held it with the kind of defiance that promised trouble. “Ah, what the hell. We can deal with them later. For now, let us celebrate.”

I drank more wine, this time watered down (for no man of my stature should ever get drunk), gossiped with Hash and Mara, and bided my time.

The Godhuntress took her spare time sipping drinks and eating appetisers. For a moment I suspected she knew of our devious plan, for she avoided her turkey for far too long. Then she lifted the fateful piece of poultry with more grace than it deserved, and bit down.

I was by her side before her head hit the table. My reputation preceded me, for the others at her table, a rather foolish spirit and his mortal friend, scrambled back. Gasps of shock and horror resounded as I readied my blade.

It was quite a shock to realise those noises were not for me. I glanced up from my goal for one fateful minute, perhaps compelled by the strings of Fate that the Oracles pulled, and caught sight of what could only be described as a cryptid.

He came from the chimney, white and red despite the soot. A full white beard hung limply from his chin, and his deep voice resounded throughout the room. “Ho, ho, ho! Merry bloody Christmas, fools!” He pulled out a massive sack and grinned at the room. “You're all bad apples, the lot of you! Coal for everyone!” 

Everyone except me dodged the sudden hail of coal that followed the opening of his sack. “Well, what are you waiting for?” He leered at me, icy blue eyes piercing me like the fangs of the last Oracle I met. 

I lifted my knife, aiming it at the dazed Godhuntress' throat. A glimmer of recognition dawned upon her face, but I did not let her recover fully. Down went my blade, swift, brutal and twice as just as any executioner's axe.

And what a merry, bloody Christmas it was.

[applestorms]

trying to break down beyond more so here's some random thoughts:

he's very particular about the ways in which he's unhinged/insane, and oddly conscious about every weird thing he does. everything is meant to one-up L: excess sugar (jam + coffee sludge), uncomfortable body movements, presenting as a Genius Detective to hide his own crimes, etc. his weirdness is unnatural and, at least in the ways he specifically tries to replicate L, not innate to him specifically. there's a version of beyond, perhaps pre-L, who is weird in his own unique way.

for a serial killer, he has very little interest in the killings themselves. despite executing all these violent murders, even one of a 13 year old girl, every one of his victims is killed only after they're drugged to unconscious and the mutilation of their bodies is all post-death, for the sake of his puzzles alone. seemingly the only reason why he bothers with murder is because that is what L focuses on, and because his eyes make him so intimate w/ death.

his motives are clearly focused around L, perhaps both as a reaction to L and as an attempt at initiating some kind of interaction? iirc mello claims near the end of the story that his sole purpose is to give L some kind of unsolvable case, but clearly some of his behaviors must be done to antagonize L specifically, since almost nobody else (other than the meta audience) knows who he's presenting himself as/clowning on.

ultimately, it's his ego that gets him. he underestimates naomi's abilities often throughout the story, feeding her clues to ensure that his own puzzles get solved-- perhaps out of a lack of respect for her intelligence, but also to present himself as even more capable? to brag as much as he can?

the congenital shinigami eyes is honestly one of the most fascinating ideas any death note side story has ever presented. there are so so so many questions you can ask here-- is beyond genetically part shinigami? is he or his birth family somehow connected to a death note? how can he read the lifespans? mello describes beyond's shinigami eyes as follows:

Killing people was, for him, normal. Killing people who were fated to die anyway was no effort at all. Mmm, I guess I should explain the idea of the eyes of a shinigami. The phrase is only too familiar to me, but if I don't explain it, some of you will cry foul. The eyes of a shinigami. These eyes could be given out by any shinigami in return for half the recipient's remaining life. Normally contact with a shinigami was a prerequisite for acquisition, but Beyond Birthday had traded nothing--he had seen the world through those eyes since before he could remember. He knew your name before you said it. He knew the time of death of every person he met. ...I hardly need to explain just what effect this would have one his personality. You might think they would hardly be useful without a Death Note, but that is simply not the case. The ability to see someone's remaining life is the ability to see death. Death, death, death. Beyond Birthday lived his life unceasingly reminded that all humans would eventually die. From the time he was born he knew the day his father would be attacked by a thug and die, knew the day his mother would die in a train crash. He had these eyes before he was born, which is why he called himself Beyond Birthday. Which is why a child as strange as him was taking in by our home, sweet home--Wammy's House. (pg. 94-95)

it's unclear exactly how much of this story mello heard from L and how much is him interpreting/theorizing w/ his own ideas. the potentially biased narration is a fantastic layer in this story.

he is the second known wammy's kid to overtly attempt suicide, though his attempt is of course incomplete. we have no idea about the circumstances surrounding A's suicide, though i find it notable that A is mentioned at all as their presence makes this a pattern. this also seems important in conjunction w/ mello's infamous opening line: "I am your narrator, your navigator, your storyteller. For anyone else but [Near and Kira], my identity may be of no interest, but I am the old world's runner-up, the best dresser that died like a dog, Mihael Keehl. I once called myself Mello and was addressed by that name, but that was a long time ago. Good memories and nightmares." (pg. 12)

sidenote: love his use of "the old world," in that quote, i wonder what the original japanese is... fits well w/ the whole idea of L as the god of the old world. anyway,

his relationship with naomi is also Fascinating to me, particularly since it really doesn't seem like either of them have a speck of respect for the other. lmfao. i should really fic write for those two sometime... i really just need to do a proper character study on both of those bitches. lol.

edit: almost immediately upon posting this i open back the damn book back up to this quote:

If he attacked her with intent to kill, he would absolutely fail. He knew that he would. Ensuring his path of escape was far more critical. Naomi Misora was nothing more than L's servant, and if she died there would be dozens of replacements-- from the FBI, the CIA, and the NSA-- even Secret Service. So he had only been testing her. Seeing if Naomi Misora was capable of being L's substitute. "Hmmm...mmmm...hmmm...Huh huh huh huh...no, hee hee hee? I could go with ho ho ho ho, but that's a little too jolly...anyway. Oh, Naomi Misora-- you are pretty good. A shame to waste someone like you in the FBI." She had passed the test, so far. (pg. 95-96)

so. shit, idk. i guess he does still have some respect for her, albeit tempered by that classic death note sexism. shrug.

the beyond vs. KIRA comparison has a lot to consider, particularly when it comes to their egos and how they choose to cover up their crimes. L's reaction to either of them is also intriguing-- as much as i like to point out L's lack of respect for beyond he does admittedly take on the case even when it doesn't quite fit his usual standards (10+ deaths and/or 1 million dollars). he's at least somewhat aware of what his legacy is setting up, though how much he actually gives a shit about any of those kids is somewhat debatable...

[whosscruffylooking]

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ The Beginning of Us- Chapter 3 ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

Joel Miller x Fem! Reader warnings: mentions of blood, severe injuries, and major character death. word count: 2k a/n: it has been almost 2 years since i last updated this story. i am so sorry! the support was amazing in the beginning and i hope we can get that level of excitement back. i won't be using the old taglist b/c I don't want to spam people who have lost interest, but if you find this story again and want to be re-added, let me know! Series Masterlist

September 27, 2003

The truck lurches forward, its tires screeching against the asphalt as Tommy swerves to avoid yet another police blockade. “We’ve gotta go around,” he announces, his voice tinged with panic.

As he rounds another corner, you see the full scale of the madness that’s overtaking the town. Screaming, desperate civilians rush in all directions. Some push others out of the way, some stumble, half-running, like they’re being driven by something more primal than fear. The streets seem alive with terror. Buildings burn in the distance, casting an orange glow over the chaos. The smell of smoke is thick in the air, mixing with the screeching sirens and the deafening roar of panic.

Joel’s grip on the door handle tightens as Tommy slows down, trying to navigate through the clogged streets—cars, people, debris. “Tommy, you can’t stop here! Just keep going!” Joel’s voice is strained with urgency, the reality of the situation sinking in.

But before Tommy can respond, the sound of a crash cuts through the madness. A stampede of people erupts from a nearby saloon, running in every direction. Some are still human, their faces twisted in terror, but others—others move with that same empty, unfocused stare, like the Adlers.

“Joel!” You shout, heart pounding as you notice more infected spilling into the streets, converging on the chaos like a tide.

“Tommy, back up!” Joel orders, his voice sharp with the kind of authority that leaves no room for hesitation.

“Dad!” Sarah screams, her voice laced with panic as she looks out the window, her eyes wide.

Then, a sound that makes your stomach drop—a roar of an engine overhead. You look up just in time to see a plane plummeting toward you, its engine sputtering, spiraling out of control.

“Tommy! Go forward!” you scream, instinctively grabbing the seatbelt, the panic escalating as the plane gets closer.

The aircraft’s landing gear rips off as it hits the ground with a violent crash. One of its wheels comes careening toward the truck. The impact is bone-jarring. The truck shudders violently, and Tommy swerves, trying to avoid the collision, but it’s too late.

With a sickening crunch, the truck’s wheel rips off, and in an instant, the vehicle flips over. Time seems to slow as the world tilts, your stomach lurching with the motion. Glass shatters, metal groans, and the air is filled with the shrill sound of twisting steel. The world goes black.

»»————————-««

You slowly come to, your head heavy, ears ringing faintly. Everything feels distant, muffled, as though you're underwater. Your body aches, but a sharp, searing pain in your side yanks you fully back to consciousness. Gasping, you try to move, only to find yourself pinned under the weight of the overturned truck. Panic seizes you as you realize you're trapped.

The air is thick with smoke, the acrid scent of gasoline stinging your nose. A faint orange glow flickers nearby, casting dancing shadows around the wreckage. You reach out, your trembling fingers scraping against the rough asphalt as you try to push yourself free. Pain flares in your side, sharp and unforgiving, and you cry out, your voice weak and ragged.

Looking down, you see the source of the agony-a jagged piece of metal embedded in your hip. Blood trickles from the wound, pooling around you, the sight of it making your stomach churn.

A voice breaks through the chaos, muffled and frantic. "Y/N!" It's familiar, pulling you from the haze of pain and fear. You turn your head, squinting through the haze of smoke, just as strong hands grip your arms.

Tommy appears above you, his face streaked with dirt and panic. "I've got you," he says, his voice tight as he pulls you free with a force that makes you cry out. The shrapnel shifts, sending fresh waves of agony through your body.

Tommy cradles you against his chest, his grip firm but careful. "Shit, you're hurt bad," he mutters, glancing at the blood staining your side. 

"We need to move."

"Where… where's Joel?" you manage to whisper, your voice weak and strained.

Tommy doesn't answer right away, his eyes darting toward the wreckage. You follow his gaze, spotting Joel a few yards away. He's cradling Sarah in his arms, her body limp, her head hanging at an unnatural angle. Your breath catches in your throat.

"Joel!" You cry out to him.

"Can you make it?" Joel calls, his voice desperate as he notices you leaning heavily on Tommy.

Before you can respond, the ground shudders beneath you. A police car barrels toward the wreckage, its tires screeching as it careens out of control. Tommy yells, dragging you back just as the car slams into the truck. The crash is deafening, and in an instant, the wreckage erupts into flames, the heat searing your skin.

"Go!" Tommy shouts, pulling you to your feet despite your injury. Joel's voice cuts through the chaos.

"I'll come back for you!" he shouts, but the flames rise higher, swallowing the space between you. Your heart sinks as you watch him disappear into the smoke, Sarah still in his arms.

Tommy tugs you along, his arm around your waist to support your weight. Each step sends fresh jolts of pain through your body, but you push forward, the adrenaline dulling some of the agony.

"Stay with me," Tommy urges, his voice strained but steady.

The sound of frantic footsteps makes you glance over your shoulder. A stampede of people surges toward you, their faces twisted in terror. Some shove past you, others stumble, the chaos swallowing everything in its path.

"Shit," Tommy mutters, tightening his grip on you. The crowd overtakes you both, pushing and jostling. You stumble, nearly falling, but Tommy holds you steady.

"Tommy, you have to go," you gasp, your voice trembling.

"What? No!" He looks at you, his face filled with disbelief.

"Help Joel. Help Sarah," you plead, your grip tightening on his arm. "You need to find them." His jaw clenches, torn between staying with you and the pull of his brother and niece.

"I'm not leaving you," he says, his voice rough with emotion.

"Go!" you shout, your voice stronger now despite the pain. "'I'll hold them off. Just go!"

Tommy hesitates, his face twisted with frustration and guilt. Finally, he nods, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment. "I'll come back for you," he says, his voice low but firm.

You force a nod, biting back the fear clawing at your chest.

 "Go."

He turns and disappears into the chaos, leaving you alone in the suffocating heat and smoke. The world feels impossibly quiet for a moment, the distant screams and growls fading into the background.

Then you hear it—a low, guttural growl. Your heart skips a beat as you turn, spotting an infected stumbling toward you. Its pale, bloodied face twitches unnaturally, its vacant eyes locking onto you. Panic grips you as it snarls, its jerky movements bringing it closer with horrifying speed.

You stumble backward, clutching your side, the pain making your legs weak. There's no way you can outrun it, not in your state. Your eyes dart around, searching for anything, anywhere to hide.

You spot an open dumpster a few feet away.

Gritting your teeth, you force yourself to move, each step agonizing. The infected lets out a bone-chilling scream, its footsteps pounding against the asphalt as it charges.

With the last of your strength, you dive into the dumpster, pulling the lid closed just as the infected reaches you. Its snarls and thudding fists against the metal send shivers down your spine. You press your hand against your mouth, stifling your ragged breaths as tears streak down your face.

The banging continues, relentless, until another noise distracts it—a distant scream.

The infected pauses, then lets out a shriek before stumbling off in pursuit of its new prey.

You don't move, your body trembling as you listen to its growls fade into the distance. The metallic tang of blood fills your mouth as you bite down hard, trying to steady your breathing. You're alive, for now, but you don't know for how long.

»»————————-««

Joel cradles Sarah’s limp body in his arms, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Her blood is warm on his hands, seeping into his clothes, but all he can feel is the cold weight of her lifeless body. His world narrows to her face, still and pale, her wide eyes unseeing.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “Please, Sarah. Please don’t do this to me.” His hands shake as he brushes a strand of hair from her face, desperation clawing at his chest. “You’re gonna be okay. You have to be okay.”

Tommy crouches beside him, glancing over his shoulder at the chaos closing in around them. Fires blaze in the distance, screams echoing through the night, and the guttural growls of the infected grow louder. There’s no time—but Tommy doesn’t know how to move Joel.

“Joel,” he says softly, his hand resting on his brother’s shoulder. “We have to go.”

Joel doesn’t look at him. He stares down at Sarah, his face a mask of disbelief and devastation. “She was just a kid,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t…” His words break apart, swallowed by a sob that shakes his entire body.

Tommy glances around again, his grip tightening on his rifle. They’re running out of time. “Joel,” he says more urgently, shaking his brother’s shoulder. “Listen to me. We’ve gotta move. Now.”

Joel finally tears his gaze from Sarah, his face streaked with tears and looks at Tommy. For a moment, he seems lost, his eyes unfocused. Then something shifts. “Where’s Y/N?” he asks, his voice hoarse. “She was with us. Where is she?”

Tommy’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t answer right away, his eyes flicking down to Sarah and back up to Joel. The weight of the question lingers in the air, heavy and suffocating.

“Where is she, Tommy?” Joel’s voice rises, panic threading through his words. He stands, still holding Sarah in his arms as if letting her go will make it real. “Did she make it out? Where the hell is she?”

Tommy hesitates, his expression hard to read. “She’s gone,” he says finally, his voice firm but laced with something unspoken. “She left.”

Joel freezes, the words hitting him like a physical blow. “What are you talking about?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “She wouldn’t just leave. Not without us.”

“She did,” Tommy says, his tone resolute. “I saw her take off. She probably thought it was safer on her own.” He looks away, scanning the horizon for danger, his face set like stone. “She’s tough, Joel. She’ll survive.”

Joel shakes his head, the anguish in his eyes twisting into something sharper, rawer. “No,” he mutters. “No, she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t just leave us. She wouldn’t leave me.” His voice cracks on the last word, the betrayal cutting deeper than the chaos around them.

Tommy grabs his arm, pulling him back to reality. “Right now, we gotta focus on staying alive,” he says. “You hear me? We’ll figure the rest out later.”

Joel doesn’t respond. He sets Sarah down gently on the ground, his hands lingering on her face, his throat tight as he forces himself to let her go. He removes his watch—the one you and Sarah had worked so hard to get repaired. Now, it’s shattered, frozen at the exact moment his life changed forever. Gently, he lays it on his daughter’s still form. His movements are mechanical, his mind a storm of disbelief, grief, and the aching question: why would she leave?

Tommy leads the way, his rifle raised, and Joel follows, his steps heavy, his thoughts churning. Anger, confusion, and pain twist together in his chest, but above it all, one thought keeps circling back.

She left us. She left me.

Taglist: @si1versamurai

[ryan-wats]

This is Finnegan. Finn is my sweet, playful little kitten who's taken over my heart and my camera roll. He was first brought to us by his feral mom, Silver, when Finn was old enough to leave the nest. Silver moved him into our garage, and from there, Finn began to trust us more. Then, on December 19th, 2024, Finn decided to take a bold step: he walked right into my warm, cozy home. It didn't take long for him to get comfortable-within just a few days, he was rolling around, meowing, purring, and showing all the signs of a happy kitty.

He loves getting pets and has already become an affectionate little companion. While he’s still warming up to the idea of cuddles, l'm confident that one day he’ll love them, too! Watching him grow from a shy little kitten into the confident, joyful cat he is becoming has been an absolute joy, and I'm so excited to document his journey as a new family member and friend. He’s truly a gift, and I can't wait to share more of his adventures!

This is Silver. Silver is Finnegan’s mama, and she's a bit of a mystery.

We first saw her lounging on our porch as a kitten back on August 22, 2021. She wasn't around for long, though, and we didn't see her again for a while.

Then, one day, she reappeared, and we noticed something different-she was pregnant. We weren't sure at first, but when she laid down on the deck and we saw her belly, it became clear. We started feeding her, and she began to trust us more and more over time.

After a while, Silver disappeared again, and we later learned that she had gone off to give birth. We'd see her from time to time, but she kept to herself, always a bit distant. Then, one day, she brought us Finn, her sweet little kitten, and our hearts grew even bigger.

As the winter weather approached, we decided to set up a heater and beds in our garage, and Silver moved Finn right in. While Silver doesn't get too close to us-remaining the very feral cat she is-she knows where to come for food, and she knows where to go when she gets cold. I admire her independence, and I'm so grateful that she's trusted us to care for her and her baby in her own way.

This is Mama. Mama is my sweet, gentle soul, and she's been with me for about 8 years now. She originally came to me when a family member moved in and brought her along. Mama had been found as a stray in Baltimore City, and though she's had a rough start, she's lived a comfortable and loving life since then. Now about 16 years old, she's settled into the role of being the wise and loving senior of the bunch.

Mama is all about warmth and comfort-her favorite thing in the world is curling up in cozy blankets, where she can snooze the day away. She's also a big fan of cuddles, and nothing makes her happier than snuggling up with me during quiet moments. Mama has a playful side, too! She absolutely loves her banana toy, her fake mouse, and chasing the red laser-although we don't play with it too often, she's always ready for a fun chase. She's also got an interesting habit of drinking water directly from the tub, a quirky little trait that always makes me smile.

In her younger days, Mama was an incredible mouse hunter, and she's still got the skills to prove it!

Though she's slowing down with age, her sharp instincts and determination are still there. Mama is truly the heart of our little family, and I'm so grateful for all the years we've had together. She may not be the same active cat she once was, but her calm presence and sweet nature make her the perfect companion.

[kaboom--bitch]

I'm currently having some drinks for Christmas in cofront with a bunch of friends, plus our partner system. That got me thinking though. Do other systems have headmates who have different responses to alcohol? That can be defined as loosely as you want.

As with most system things, if it can be experienced once it's a real thing, so the answer would be a resounding "yes". But I'm interested in specific experiences here too--we don't see much talk about systems and Adult Stuff of any kind. So I'm opening the discussion.

In that same vein, do any nonhumans experience alcohol differently when in a shift or not in a shift? It's not something we've had time to test but hey, we might experiment in the future with it.

I personally feel like I can drink more without feeling too off, compared to the rest of us. Maybe it's because I can handle being drunk better, or maybe it's that I don't get drunk as easily. Or maybe there's something I'm doing differently that I haven't noticed. Who knows.

Fin drinks a lot more without actually paying attention to himself, so he's usually needing to be monitored so we stay safe. He gets silly when he drinks.

Mystery normally only has one drink and then gets bored--it just doesn't seem to find it interesting.

Vince kind of just... Zones right out when he's tipsy. 1000 yard stare and everything. The world stops moving and he's just there hanging out in the middle of it.

A lot of us are more inclined to want to drink based on source memories--old habits die hard and all that. But it's a nice recreational thing for em when they can.

We don't drink too often so we don't have too much experience with how different headmates handle it, but there's definitely things we've noticed.

[lsunstreakerl]

Famiglia-Familie

Chapter two analysis:

chapter two analysis is here!

- Starting with the boxes- Max feels like he needs to be useful when he's staying with GP, needs to contribute to the household, so he's unpacking boxes in the kitchen even though his arm is completely fucked. GP is really, really confused about that when he realizes, because GP still hasn't realized Max has trauma prior to the crash, so he's like "??? why are you unpacking boxes you're literally hurt please go sit down?"

- The fridge has essentials for breakfast in it, clearly, because GP ends up making omelets, but Max goes for the celery because he thinks he's not allowed to touch the other things, and that they're "Gianpiero food", which is separate from Max food. Celery is also very low on calories, so it's a food Max is allowed to have.

- Max scared GP on the counter because GP has completely forgotten he has a teenager now when he woke up. Kind of like how when you get really disoriented in a hotel room sometimes, or the morning after you get a pet- GP wakes up and he's like "oh my god someone is in my house" and then has to be "wait that's the fourteen year old he's supposed to be there".

- GP is surprised at the celery for breakfast, again because that's not only an odd choice, but also because they clearly have other items.

- "...or if he's trying to make Max jealous..." It does not even occur to Max initially that GP is also making him breakfast. He thinks maybe GP is just being a dick and rubbing it in his face that he's about to have an omelet while all Max is having is celery. (obviously, if Max thought about that for more than two seconds he would realize that's dumb, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

- "If Gianpiero wants to turn down free labor, that's his business, not Max's." Max thinks GP is weird. GP thinks Max is weird. They're still figuring each other out.

- Max being unsure on if he's allowed to use GP's nickname or if he needs to be formal and keep calling him Gianpiero, and there's no way for him to just ask, so instead he's stressing about it. (You'll notice in chapter three Max is much more relaxed about switching between GP and Gianpiero. He uses GP in a more casual sense, and Gianpiero when he's thinking about him as his dad/thinking emotionally.)

- Max being weirded out when GP feeds him first and washes his dishes first because that's not ever how things have worked in Max's world, but GP is just treating him like a parent does a kid. (Their needs before yours)

- This story very easily could have been Max being adopted by Hayden instead. I don't bring it up a whole lot, but Hayden as a character stays very close with Max and GP, they're family friends. There were a few times after the accident where Hayden had his own nightmares about pulling Max out of the crash, so sometimes he would come over and just hang out for bit. Seeing Max okay with GP helped soothe some of that anxiety. (Or he would text GP, be like "hey Max is okay right" and GP would confirm, or, when Max got more comfortable, they'd send little selfies)

- Max doesn't have issues karting personally, but he does get serious flashbacks when he's the passenger in a car, or when it's raining. It takes him a looooong time to work on that.

- GP knows the flashbacks need to be addressed, but at the first one he decides their short term solution is just going to be a shit ton of public transportation. (Mentioned in chapter three is that they bike places a lot- this is also one of their solutions)

- Word gets out eventually via rumors and gossipy karters that Jos died in an accident, and the parents are all very hush-hush about it, but the kids are like "hey we haven't seen Max since then either did he also die" so George is really freaked out when he sees Max in the bookstore. Between that, and the fact that Max drags him where other people can't see, doesn't talk to him, and never ends up texting him, and George also watches too many spooky shows and movies, instead of thinking "oh, max didn't die, max is here in the UK", George goes back to the other kids and is like "BEDFORD IS HAUNTED I SAW THE GHOST OF MAX VERSTAPPEN"

- GP just trying to be a good adult and getting Max a house key and a phone and a keychain and Max is like ??????

- When Max is trying to make GP understand that he's "doing too much" and that Max is overwhelmed, GP doesn't even consider that it's about everything, because he's just doing what any good guardian should do, which is why he tells Max they can always just order a keychain. (He assumes Max is overwhelmed just by the store)

- GP keeps Max's pain meds in his pocket, and he's diligent about making sure Max eats and drinks water when he has them, so of course he notices when Max is hurting, and obviously he buys him a water at the checkout counter. Max is thrown off by this because the water at the front is always overpriced, everyone knows this, and Jos would never have done that for him, would have told him it's his own fault for not bringing any with him.

- Max starts actually thinking Jos' name after the doctors appointment, because it's starting to chip away at him that everything is real. He can't cut himself off as easy, can't pretend it isn't actually happening, so the reality of the situation is starting to sink in, unavoidably.

- Micheal Schumacher does actually own a red Mercedes. It's cool as hell. Look it up.

- Poor Hayden is just trying to get the house set up and make it a home for one of his best friends and the new kid, and he's doing a really good job, getting everything all homey, and then fucking Michael Schumacher is knocking on the door, and obviously he's going to let him in? Because like. stranger danger and all that but also again this is Michael Schumacher. So Hayden is freaking the entire time bc there's a world champion just chilling on the couch while he's trying to decorate.

- Michael had immediately started hunting down Max as soon as he heard about Jos, because Max was the first thing on his mind. Tiny Max, baby Max, little track menace Max. All Michael can think is "what if this was Mick" and he's on a parental rampage, hunts down the EMS department to find out what hospital they went to, hunts down the hospital to find out who Max went home with, hunts down Colin at Force India to find out where GP lives, and then drives directly to his house.

- Michael is 100% prepared to bring Max into the family. He's kind of expecting it, he's ready to do whatever needs to be done in that aspect, but he's incredibly surprised at the home GP has put together, and he also notices the subtle things. The way that Max doesn't let go of GP, the way GP is willing to stand between him and Max, just because Max seems scared.

- GP earns Max's lifetime loyalty the moment he steps between him and Michael, because this is the first adult who has never cared about who's on the other end, who's put themselves there to protect Max. Michael is such an influential, powerful man, and Max doesn't at all expect anyone to step between him and something he wants, which is why he's so stunned when GP does.

- It's worth noting GP is intimidated out of his mind in this scene. Here is Michael, who could ruin his career, get him banned from the paddock, any number of things, and who has also seemed like a pretty nice guy all the times GP has met him or heard of him. But then here is Max, who GP is now responsible for but doesn't know anything about, and GP isn't sure how Michael knows him, he just knows Max is afraid, and doesn't want Michael getting close to him, and if that's what Max wants GP is going to make it happen, so he's willing to put his job and his career on the line for this kid.

- This impresses Michael a lot, it's one of the reasons he allows Max to stay with GP at all. It's a show of GP's character, and his willingness to take care of Max.

- Michael and GP are still kind of posturing at each other when Max has his breakdown, at which point all of that is tossed aside to help Max. They're working as a team to try and calm him down, and it helps both of them to see and realize that each others priority here is Max.

- GP carries Max up to his room, which Michael also checks out, and then they're going downstairs to talk logistics and discuss the whole situation.

- Michael explains that Max has family, a mother and a sister, but that they haven't seen each other in years, and Sophie is a single mother with a girl, and Max hasn't talked to his sister in a long time, and that Sophie and Jos had at some point in an emergency entrusted Max's safety to Michael. He's made the executive decision that Max is better off sticking close to what he knows, with racers, where Michael can keep an eye on him, rather than sending him back to the Netherlands with family he doesn't really know. (Is it the right decision? Who knows. They're all just people, and they're trying to do the right thing.)

- Max overhears GP and Michael talking in the kitchen, but he doesn't comprehend in the fic just how threatening Micheal is actually being to GP. He's basically saying he has eyes everywhere, and that all these drivers, these powerful men with millions of dollars, are looking out for Max, checking that he's cared for, and if GP fucks that up even a little bit Michael is going to know.

- At the same time, Michael is also saying that he's paying for Max's surgeries, for his schooling and eventually uni, that Max is still protected as part of the Schumacher family even if it's not by name or by blood. Max and GP both have a card linked to an emergency fund that is funded through Michael.

- The phone gets used as an easy way for Max and GP to communicate with yes/no even when they're not in the same room, and over time Max gets more comfortable sending actual words, though he still keeps his messages short.

- Yes, the alarm GP uses when he wants Max to get up is the same one from Chapter 1. Yes, Max still hates it. Yes, GP thinks it's hilarious.

- Max having two months to do a project and waiting until the week it's due is SO REAL.

- MP/mini-piero is so family nickname of them. Redbull loves Max just as much as Force India did, if not more, and he's smart, and little bit sassy, and he likes to help, and it's like having a garage kid basically.

- Yes, Redbull does think Max is genuinely mute for a physical reason.

- Daniel and Daniil adopt Max as a kid brother. They roughhouse sometimes and give each other grief, but the Dan's are very fond of him. The whole garage views him as a little GP attachment the same way the rest of the paddock does.

- Max and Mick have the Silverstone room because the rest of the paddock doesn't get it, especially after Michael's accident. He was so revered, and everyone respected him, but sometimes the boys just needed a space to be angry about the whole thing, which is how the Silverstone room happened. It's their safe space to vent and rage with no judgement.

- An employee saw Charles crying and directed him to the room, because that's where they send upset racing children, they covered it in orientation.

- Charles thinks the note is somehow making fun of him, which is why he's so pissed off at first, and he doesn't even know who Max is, and the employee told him this was an okay room to be sad in but it's clearly occupied.

- Charles then assumes that MP is an engineers kid (not entirely wrong) that somehow got to know Mick, based on the homework and the teamkit. He does get confused though, because for an engineers kid to know Mick the engineer would have had to work with Michael, and MP is wearing Force India and Redbull gear, but Michael didn't drive for either of those teams.

That's all I got! Feel free to ask questions if there's something here I don't cover or that you've been wondering about 🫶

[kashlyn]

Lines from the Ithaca saga that I kept replaying over and over again in my first listen cuz they gave me chills and changed my brain chemistry:

The Challenge

"Whoever can string my husband's old bow

And shoot through twelve axes cleanly

Will be the new king, sit down at the throne

And rule with me as his queen

I've heard these lines even before the saga was officially released (cuz I ain't new and been waiting for this so SOOO long) and it felt so weird without Ody's little laugh in the background! Like, unlike the first drafts, PENELOPE REALLY DOESN'T KNOW HE'S THERE! NOT EVEN A LITTLE HINT! HAD TO TRIPLE CHECK!!

Let the arrow fly

Once you know that your aim is true

Cause I'd rather die than grow old without the best of you

No words, just tears and heart full of feelings... Repeated this at least 2 times

Hold them down

And then we'll

Hold her down while her gate is open

Hold her down while I get a taste

Hold her down while I share her spoils

I will not let any part go to waste

I kid you not, I had to pause, play that again, pause and repeat five times because I was seething with rage. Like, I knew what it implies and I just had to make sure like my brain won't let me register it

Odysseus

Somewhere in the shadows lurks an agile, deadly foe...

We have the advantage. We've the numbers and the might. No... You don't understand it; this man plans for every fight!

Did a repeat three times cuz SLAY, Ody! That's our captain!

You don't think I know my own palace? I BUILT IT!

I SCREAMED! DAD GOT MAD AND SIS LOOKED AT ME WEIRDLY BUT DANGGGGGGGGG! I watched the movie/miniseries and he said this there too but chills. Literal chills. Repeated... Idk how many times 🤣 too many to count!

You plotted to kill my son...

You planned to RAPE MY WIFE!

Had to repeat this over and over again cuz the chills and literal tears that went down my eyes when listening to his anger! Especially when he said rape so so much anger in his voice! Like... Something inside me healed. Especially since he ACTUALLY said it instead of just implying it! Like... Couldn't stop listening to this on repeat with tears going down my eyes. My standards have been raised.

I can't help but wonder

Father?

First line and I was already on my knees. Had to repeat this multiple times tho cuz I still wasn't processing the last song completely. I was practically dissociating... But when it finally registered, my heart!

Son...

THE LONG PAUSE AND THEN THIS?! HOW CAN TWO SINGLE WORDS MELT ME SO MUCH!! REPLAY!! HEART IS SHATTERED?? THEN FIXED??? IDK

For twenty years I never could outgrow you Oh, and now you're here

The eldest child in me broke... Had to re-listen to that again

I can't help but wonder What your world must be If we're like each other If I have your strength in me

Nvm. This shattered me. I knew my parents growing up and this SHATTERED ME. Didn't repeat it but I had to have a long pause.

Twenty years we've wandered But today you're not alone My son, I'm finally home!

Had to keep repeating this out of sheer joy! Like YES!

You might live forever So you can make it be But I've got one endeavor There's a girl I have to see

Had to listen to this again cuz it hurt yet feels so right... Like... Ody is getting old. It's bad enough that Tele grew up without him and he made Penelope wait for so long... He won't live forever. And even if he could (ex. With Calypso) he wouldn't want to. Because it would be a world without Penelope. He HAS to see her.

Would You Fall in Love with Me Again

Hurt more lives than I can count on my hands But all of that was to bring me back to you

YES! ONLY REPEATED ONCE! EVERY TIME I LISTEN TO THE SONG! NWYSNS

See that wedding bed? Could you carry it over? Lift it high on your shoulders And take it far away from here?

Had to repeat this twice out of disbelief... Like, did she actually ask that of him?! What?!

Only my husband knew that So I guess that makes him you!

Repeat this over and over again! (3rd repeat and above, I screamed along with Penelope) Like husband like wife! These two 🛐 all hail the king and queen

[slowed down "Just a man" instrumental plays]

COULDN'T NOT REPEAT THIS! It's like a reminder, that no matter how much Ody sees the changes in himself, Penelope still sees her husband. He changed but he's still Ody. As he said he would, he HAS traded the world to see his son and wife. He's just a man. To quote Undertale, "Despite everything, it's still you."

I cried so much guys 😭😭 the musical ended the same way the movie did! With Penelope and Ody in each other's arms!

[draconxs]

Unprompted @meowgiciann asked: " Associate? Nye he he he! We use the term "to chill with" these days. To chill with ya mates, going around stealing people's socks and pushing vases out of tables. Got a guy that knows another guy which knows a puuuurreeetty good tree to scratch your nails on."

"..."

Half of what Faust just said does not register to Kaido and so he just continues to drink like he always does and ends up doing by the end of the night.