#he hasn’t been under her light in a thousand years

[starry-skies-writes]

Oh my god

Aaravos was trapped in the prison for hundreds of years right??

For hundreds of years, he couldn’t see the brightest star. He couldn’t see “Leola’s Last Wish”. He couldn’t see his daughter.

Instead he was at the bottom of the sea, as far as he could be from the night sky.

[moonstruckme]

Hey lovely!! Once again have been binging your page, and I saw you mentioned the lack of sirius in your request and I had this idea the other day! So it’s been like the longest day of classes and reader comes back completely slumped like ready to sleep a thousand years and sirius comes in to see her snuggled up in bed, his sweater on, and knocked out cold. Then he is all soft and wipes off her makeup (because half the time I fall asleep with it on and wake up w mascara smudges) and reader wakes up full of sleepy mumbles to sirius. Preferably female reader but if your more comfortable with neutral obviously do what you’re more comfortable with! Much much love to you and your writing 🤍🤍

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!! Much much love to you back :)

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 895 words

Sirius very nearly sits on you. 

He thought you were out and was planning on waiting in your room for you to get back, but now he sees the evidence of your presence: your bag discarded in a heap by the door. You’re hardly more than a sliver of forehead and the tips of curled fingers sticking out from under the bedspread. He reroutes the second he sees you, straightening from his near-sit and biting his tongue to contain a curse. Your breathing is heavy and whistles slightly on the way in. You’re out cold. 

Sirius’ heart feels unbearably tender in the way it often does around you. He swears, when he gets like this even a toothpick would be a lethal weapon against him. He’s a boy made of mush.

He pulls the bedspread down so you don’t smother yourself, revealing your lovely face with tiny smudges of mascara caked under both eyes. And the collar of the sweater he’d found missing last week, the one you’d claimed to know nothing about. Sirius has every right to be angry about that. At least ostentatiously indignant, as is often his preference for dealing with your rare offenses. But the sight of you makes him more fond than is reasonable. You’ve pulled his sleeves down so only your fingers peek out, and the collar is all scrunched up under your cheek, and Sirius is fucked. 

He is absolutely, totally fucked. There’s just absolutely no way he’s got enough room in his heart for this much love. It very well might kill him. 

He keeps moving to give his heart something more productive to do. You’ll wake up feeling frustrated and extra lethargic if your eyelashes are sticky with mascara, and Sirius knows your routine well. He finds the supplies in your cabinet and barely breathes as he swipes the makeup remover over your skin with careful fingers, wiping away the traces of your day. It had to be a long one, to send you so deeply into sleep before the sun has even finished setting. The dying light illuminates your face while Sirius works. He tells himself it’s good for practical purposes as well as just making you look especially lovely. He can have both. 

Your eyes take the most persistence, and that’s when you start to rouse. 

“It’s just me,” Sirius says softly when your hand twitches up as if to feel for his wrist. “You fell asleep with your makeup on.” 

“Oh.” You relax impossibly further under his touch, voice breathy and dulled by sleep. “Thanks.” 

“Anytime, gorgeous.” He gets the last of the mascara off but isn’t ready to be done touching you, brushing the back of his forefinger along your hairline. “What’s done you in so early, huh?” 

Your eyes open for a moment, like you want to make sure he’s really there, before closing again. A pinch appears between your brows. “Headache,” you mumble. As if remembering your misery, your head sinks into his sweater like a chrysalis. 

Sirius’ brows pinch too, though your eyes aren’t open to witness his sympathy. “I’m sorry, lovebug. Did you take something already?” 

You hum in unhappy affirmation. 

“Hasn’t kicked in yet?” 

A halfhearted huff. “Or it’s not really helping.” 

He cards a hand through your hair, rewarded when the tension in your features eases slightly. “I’m sure it will, we’ve just got to give it time. Anything else I can do to help?” 

“Not really.” 

“Oh, come on, sweet thing.” He’s wheedling, covering a tad of desperation with a good heaping of teasing. “You know, I’ve been told that just looking upon me can cure a myriad of ailments. I’m like—what do the muggles have? Their god-human guy.” 

You crack an eyelid, the dryness of your expression undermined by a twitch of your lips. “Are you saying you’re Jesus?” 

“I’m saying that I’ve been told I’m sort of like Jesus,” Sirius corrects you with a grin. He rubs at a nonexistent smudge of makeup on your cheekbone. “So there’s got to be something I can do for you.” 

You release a great, heaving sigh, like your boyfriend is really asking a lot of you. But when you look up at him, there’s a familiar shyness there. “Do you wanna just lie with me for a bit?” 

“Baby.” The teasing leaves Sirius immediately. He softens like dough in your hands. “Of course I do.” He shucks off his shoes before shuffling out of his pants, knowing your rules about outside clothes in bed trump your occasional bashfulness when it comes to nudity. There’s nothing sexual about this anyway. You tuck into Sirius as soon as he’s close enough, and he brings his arms around you protectively, one banded around your ribs and the other curved over your shoulders so he can cup the back of your head. “Don’t be silly,” he whispers with faux malice, kissing your hair. “I always want to do whatever you’re doing. Are we going back to sleep?” 

“Maybe,” you hedge, but Sirius can already hear your voice stretching. You’re slipping away even as your head eases closer to him, your breath tickling his collarbone. 

He tries to match your languid tone to help along the process. “Sounds good, gorgeous. I’ll be here if you need anything.” 

Your reply is barely audible, but Sirius’ heart warms nonetheless. “I know you will.” 

[frenchkisstheabyss]

✦ love poem ✦

✦ Pairing: dad!choi san x pregnant!chubby!fem!reader w/ appearances by ot8

✦ Genre: fluff/light angst

✦ Summary: Being pregnant during the holidays has been hectic. Especially for your fiance San whose tight work schedule has him under pressure. But when his best friend Hwa steps in to ease the burden on him by being there for you, it creates more jealousy than Christmas cheer.

✦ Word Count: 3.5k-ish

✦ Warnings: pregnant reader, occasionally strong language, some quick lusting after San while he's in the shower (nothing graphic), & that's all.

✦ A/N: I really wanted to write something sweet with like the tiniest bit of angst so there's nothing heavy here. It's mostly just lovey dovey shit cause, I mean, I'm a lover girl. What can I say?

Standing at the entrance of the tunnel of lights, you watch in awe as thousands of tiny bulbs twinkle to the tune of the Christmas music that coasts along the night air. Every year the local zoo holds a massive festival of lights to celebrate the holiday season. During your first year here San had plans to take you to opening night but, with his schedule being as unpredictable as it is, that never did happen. This year though, he promised that nothing would stop you from experiencing this together and he meant it.

As much as San and the rest of the boys hyped this place up to you, nothing could’ve prepared you for how breathtaking it is in person. It’s magical. The carnival rides, the little Christmas themed games, the stalls selling some of the best food you ever tasted. And the displays. They’re pure art. It may be too cold for the animals to be out but the elaborate light sculptures of them make up for it tenfold. Children race through the light tunnels while couples cuddle up in line for hot cocoa. If ever “Winter Wonderland” were a place this would have to be it.

“Stop running!” Hongjoong yells from behind you. Seconds later Mingi and Jongho dart past you in a blur. You turn in time to see the look of defeat on Hongjoong’s face as he approaches with the others close behind. “I swear sometimes they act like children,” he groans, “Take it from me. Don’t have kids. It’s not worth it.” Popping on a pair of knit gloves, Yunho gestures towards the pregnant belly rounding out your thick winter coat. “I think that advice is about 7 months too late.”

Hongjoong gasps in horror, “Oh. I mean, you know, except that one. I’m sure it’ll be a cute little thing.” You can only giggle at how flustered any mention of your pregnancy gets him. Hongjoong hasn’t quite grasped that San’s about to be someone’s dad. Even as your belly has grown, he’s managed to periodically forget what’s happening but he’s trying to be supportive and it’s sweet. Seonghwa pats you softly on the belly, laying his head on your shoulder, “Pay him no mind. She’ll be a cute little baby. Not a thing. I mean, look at her mom”

"Oh, Hwa, you’re too sweet” you blush, patting him on the cheek. “The baby! I think it kicked!” He’s right. You felt it. It’s about that time of night after all. The moment she could start kicking she did. Especially around bedtime. Suddenly they’re all gathered close around you staring at your stomach as if the baby will burst out at this very moment like some alien spawn. Woo kneels down in front of you, resting his hand behind Hwa’s. “Aah!” he squeals, “She’s saying hi to her uncles. Hi, baby!”

By now Mingi and Jongho have circled back, stopping dead in their tracks to see what all the fuss is about. “What’s going on?” Jongho asks, Mingi’s hat clenched in his hand. Mingi snatches his hat back, peering over Jongho’s shoulder, “It’s not happening is it?” Seeing the panic in his eyes, you immediately jump to calm him down, “Not yet. She’s kicking up a fuss. That’s all.” “So much like her dad already” Yeosang teases, just as San appears to push them aside. “Hands off!” he orders, shooing them away, “I go to the bathroom for two seconds and you’re already crowding my kid.”

The others just laugh, not expecting to witness such a perfect example of Yeosang’s statement so soon. “You okay? Everything okay?” he asks, fixing the scarf around your next and popping your hood over your head. “Baby, it’s not that cold.” “Temperature’s supposed to drop 5 degrees in the next half hour. Gotta stay toasty, honey.” San’s always been attentive, doing everything he could to make sure you were taken care of but the pregnancy has kicked it into overdrive.

Taking his hands, you give him a warm peck on the lips and flash a smile that soothes his worries. “I’m okay, Sannie. I promise. Now let’s go.” The tunnel’s far more mesmerizing from the inside than it is simply looking in. It feels like a portal to a different world, replacing the darkness of the night sky with constellations of red and green that guide you to the next section of the zoo. Each area has one unique to the space you’re about to step into.

A tunnel of mistletoe and vines for the flower garden. One built like a giant sleigh for the reindeer village. And that’s not even half of it. How anyone can make it through this place in one night is beyond you. Then again, not everyone is toting another human around in their belly. By the time you make it through the ice tunnel into the replica North Pole, your feet are killing you but you try to hold it together.

Between doctor’s appointments, work, redecorating the apartment, and a million other things that need to be done before the baby arrives, there’s been zero time to do anything fun. Calling it quits this early feels wrong. Especially since San's been so stressed lately. Spending time with the guys seems to be just the thing he needed to shake some of that off.

“How many more lights do we have to see before we’ve seen enough?” Mingi whines, dragging his feet. Alright, so maybe someone else is as over it as you are. Yunho slaps Mingi on the back, taking a deep breath, “Have some holiday cheer! We’re in such a beautiful place. Where else would you rather be?” “Somewhere warm! With food!” Woo adds, backing Mingi up. Jongho jumps it, never one to miss the opportunity, “And drinks! When’s the last time we all had drinks together?”

Hongjoong crosses his arms, throwing them some wicked side eye, until he realizes, “Actually it has been a while since we went out for drinks.” Woo wraps his arms around Yeosang, determined to rope him into this plan, “You in? Say yes. Say yes!” “Yeah, sure fine, whatever” Yeosang laughs, shrugging him off. Hwa clears his throat, preparing to be the bearer of bad news, “Well it’s not just us you guys. There’s kinda a 10th person here now.”

For a fleeting moment, you were able to detect some excitement on San’s face and Hwa’s words wipe it away in an instant. Everyone falls silent, not quite sure what to do with the awkwardness of the moment. “Hey,” you say, lovingly rubbing San’s chest, “Why don’t you go get those drinks?” “What? No. I’m not leaving you. We said we’d do this.” “We did and I’ve had the best time but, honestly, my feet hurt like shit.” “Then I’ll take you home and run some water so you can soak your feet” San insists, guiding you out of the way of an approaching crowd.

“San, please, for the love of god, go” you beg, looking to his friends for support. “I’ll take her home!” Hwa volunteers, “I’m not really up for drinking anyway.” San glares skeptically back and forth between the two of you. He wants to protest but he gets the sense that arguing with you is a losing battle and he’s right. “Fine” he relents, “But text me when you get home. Love you.” The way you light up when he finally gives in is one of the infinite reasons why he loves you the way that he does. “I will. Love you too.” “Love you three!” “Love you four!” you say, kissing him before Jongho begins to drag him in the other direction. “We’re not doing this all night! Let’s go!”

Parting ways is a sea of goodbyes and bickering that continues until you lose sight of the rest of the group. Hooking his arm into yours, Hwa directs you towards a festive snack stand not too far away. “Wanna eat like trash before we go home?” he offers with a mischievous grin, knowing San would murder him if he knew. You nod, playfully tearing up, “I thought you’d never ask.” 

“Baby, have you seen my keys?” you shout from the bedroom, digging through your purse for the third time. “Huh?” San calls back, the water rushing from the shower making it impossible to hear you. Shuffling down the hall, you pop your head into the bathroom. “I was asking if you’d seen my keys.” San peeks from behind the shower curtain, shampoo bubbles dripping down his sculpted cheekbones. In an instant, you forget all about your keys. What else could possibly matter when San’s standing here dripping wet, every muscle in his defined chest glistening like gold. Snap out of it. This is how you got pregnant in the first place. 

“I saw them by the stove I think.” “Thanks, ya cutie” you wink, ready to skip off to find them. “Wait,” he says before you can make it more than a step and a half away, “You’re all dressed up. Where are you going?” Scanning your outfit, you don’t see anything particularly “dressed up” about what you’re wearing. Some knit overalls with a cozy sweater underneath and your favorite boots are far from red carpet ready in your mind. “Hwa’s taking me shopping for decorations. Don’t you remember?” San frowns, only vaguely remembering the conversation, “Why didn’t you ask me?” “I did but you said you were busy today so Hwa offered to take me.” 

Your phone dings in your pocket. You fish it out and find a text message from Hwa telling you he’s outside. “Ooh, speak of the devil. Gotta run.” Carefully, you make your way across the bathroom floor, giving him a kiss that you struggle to keep innocent with the knowledge of what’s behind the curtain. “Have fun and tell Joong I said hi! I’ll bring you back something!” you sing and you’re off to find your keys. San’s frozen in place, unable to bring himself to move an inch. Even after he’s heard the apartment door close, it takes him a second to get back to his shower.

It’s been two weeks since the light festival and you’ve seen Hwa every few days since. Every time San’s too busy to do something Hwa’s right there to help. When did he become so available? You always come home so happy too. Were you that happy with him? Letting the water wash over his head, he tries to shake away his jealous thoughts.

You moved here to be with him and, in that time, the only friends you’d made were his. Hwa’s just being a good friend to the both of you, helping when San’s unable to. Thinking that it's anything else is ridiculous. All of the long hours spent working must be getting to him. Hwa would never...

You would never...

Neither of you would...

Right? Right? 

Pregnancy hormones. They’re the one thing no one can ever quite prepare you for. One minute you’re hanging ornaments on the tree, humming along to your music in a cozy pair of pajamas. The next you’re crying on the kitchen floor, stuffing your mouth with the cookies you baked for the holiday party tomorrow.

It’s nearly midnight and everything makes you emotional. The lights on the tree are too bright, your feet feel swollen, the cookies aren’t as sweet as you'd like, and suddenly you can’t stand the song that’s playing despite it being one of your favorites. You want everything off but then the house would be quiet and empty. You’d be reminded that you’re all alone until San comes home tomorrow and cry even harder.

You pull out your phone to call him but when you see the time you decide not to. His flight is in a few hours and he’s already told you what a long day he had. You’d hate to wake him up, to burden him any more than you feel you already have.  Just as you’re about to put your phone down it lights up. A text from Seonghwa. Some adorable video of a cat dressed up as one of Santa’s elves.

The poor thing looks miserable running around in that costume but it makes you laugh enough to stop you from spiraling. Taking a deep breath, you wipe away the tears blurring your vision and shoot a text back. 

You: Thanks. I really needed that.

Hwa: Why? Something wrong?

You: I’m having a crying thing. Kinda sad tonight.

Hwa: Need some company?

Without thinking, you type out the words “You don’t have to—” before erasing them and typing out something new. "Sure!"

It takes him no time at all to reach you. The streets are empty this time of night and he only lives a half hour away. Even if he lived two hours away—three hours away—he’d drive every single one of them to come support you. When you became someone special to San, you became someone special to him too. He’s never seen San more serious about anything than he's been about you and this baby. As much as he wishes that San would get out of his head a bit more, it’s cute to see him love something so much. 

“Anybody home?” Hwa whispers, his eyes narrowing when he notices that your front door is cracked. “Come in” you sob from the couch, blowing your nose for what feels like the 1000th time since you sent that last text. Hwa follows a trail of discarded tissues to find you curled up on the couch, as curled as you can be this far along in your pregnancy. “Hey, hey, don’t cry” he coos, easing himself down onto the couch and resting your head in his lap, “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You try to speak but you’re too short of breath to get anything out. Hwa strokes your hair, taking slow breaths in and out, “Follow me, okay? In and out.” You shake your head in protest. The whole room is closing in around you. You can’t do it. “Just try it. For me. Please” he begs so sweetly that you can’t refuse. Deep breath in, long breath out. The same way that they taught you in those birthing classes you went to. “This is total bullshit” you’d whispered to San at one point during the class but it turns out it isn’t bullshit at all. 

After a few seconds, the tightness in your chest eases and the room begins to open up. The world isn’t falling apart anymore. You’re safe. Hwa sits with you in silence as your breathing quiets, dabbing away any rogue tears that drip down your cheeks. “Is San happy with me?” you ask, catching him off guard, “Is this too much for him, do you think?” Hwa laughs, knowing how extremely far from the truth both of those questions are. “Hwa, it’s not funny! I’m serious!” “I’m sorry! I’m not trying to make fun of you, it’s just—if you make him happy or not, that’s not a question. He’s crazy about you.”

Grabbing the small blanket folded over the back of the couch, he opens it up and tucks you in with it. “None of this is too much,” he swears, “You and her…” Hwa pokes your belly, making you giggle. “You guys are everything he’s ever wanted. He pushes himself so much because he wants to be perfect for you.” You yawn, Hwa’s presence and the warm blanket activating the exhaustion you’ve been fighting. “But he’s already perfect to me. Why can’t he see that?” “Mmm, it’s really hard sometimes to see ourselves the way other people do but he’ll come around. I promise.”

If there’s one similarity you’ve come to find between San and Hwa it’s how important promises are to them. If Hwa says he’ll come around then he will. They’d been friends for ages before you came into the picture. They’ve gone through more together than you can imagine. If Hwa's confident about it, then you have to believe it too. You drift off to sleep, your brain still spinning but much quieter now, trusting that everything will be just fine.

Right? Right? 

“Listen to yourself. You sound crazy!” Hwa snaps, trying his hardest not to raise his voice in the midst of his anger. San tosses his bags to the floor and they hit with a thud that shakes you from your sleep. “I come home to you cuddled up on the couch with her and I’m crazy?” “She texted me last night that she was crying. What was I supposed to do?” “Tell me! And let me take care of her! She’s not yours so stop treating her like she is!”

San’s jaw clenches, the jealousy he’s been harboring turning into true pain for the first time. He thought he had this under control. Those hours of talking with Woo about how stupid his suspicions were had chased off his insecurities. But coming in, tired and cranky from his flight, to see you so peacefully cuddled against Hwa had undone all of it. He wanted to kill him and the knowledge that he was the first one you reached for when you were hurting only adds fuel to the fire currently burning his self control to ash.

“Sannie?” you squeak, stretching out your cramped limbs, “What’s going on?” You sit up, eyes still squinted, to see what all of the fuss is about. Hwa hangs his head, unable to face you, “I think I should go. If you need me I’m here for both of you.” “Wait, no!” you say, doing your best to roll off of the couch and stop him but by the time you’re on your feet he’s gone. Turning your attention to San, you immediately sense his anger. Something happened and whatever it was has him fuming.

“Baby, what happened? You can talk to—” “Is there something going on between you two?” “What?” you laugh, placing your hands on your lower back for support. You keep laughing but the sharpness of his expression never changes. He’s actually waiting for an answer. “Oh god, you’re serious. You’re actually asking me if I’m fucking Seonghwa.” “I didn’t say that.” “But that’s what you’re saying. That’s what you think of me.”

You catch yourself wanting to cry again, only this time it isn’t because of the pregnancy hormones. It’s because you waited for days to see the man you love only to be accused of something like this. San can almost see the moment your heart breaks, making him regret his doubts in an instant. “He’s been helping me because I was worried about you burning yourself out. That’s it. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Your bottom lip quivers and the tears are rushing from your eyes again. “Fuck, I’m so tired of crying” you huff, flopping back down onto the couch. 

San’s at your side quicker than he’s ever been, his arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go. “I’m sorry! Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it. I know you’d never do that.” “Then why were you two arguing? Why even ask me?” “Because I’m afraid” he admits, leaving you both shocked at his admission. He’s scared, terrified, so much that it keeps him up at night. “I’m afraid I’m not good enough to be what you need me to be and it was easier to be jealous than to admit that.”

You’re frustrated enough that you could slap him but your body feels so at home in his embrace that you can’t pull away. “You’re good enough for me…for us, San. You have to believe me when I say that.” “Then why do you call him when you’re crying and not me?” “Because,” you sigh, “I’m afraid too. I don’t want to lean on you too much.” “What? Lean on me too much?” he asks, almost offended, “Lean on me all you want. What do you think I work out for?”

You giggle when you feel his muscles flex against you, “San, be serious!” “I am! Lean on me, please. We’re a team. I need you to trust me to be here.” You stare at him, your eyes beautiful enough to hypnotize him even when they’re clouded with tears. “You have to trust me to be here too, you know?” San kisses your forehead, one hand gently massaging your back, “I trust you, baby.” Closing your eyes a tingly feeling washes over you. Is it love? The Christmas spirit? The tingling is chased by a contraction stronger than any period cramp you’ve ever felt.

“The baby’s coming!” you shout, gripping your stomach. San jumps back in shock as if he didn’t know you were pregnant to begin with. “Are you sure?” “You said you trust me!” “I do! I do! Hold on!” Leaning you back on the couch, San darts around the apartment collecting all of the things he’s prepared over the last few months to make you comfortable when this happens. A bag packed with clothes for you and your favorite slippers. Phone chargers, baby wipes, stuffed animals, the snacks you love. The list is endless.

“I’ll pull the car up and come back for you, okay?” he says, propping your feet up on the coffee table as he tries to put your coat on. “Just get the car. I’m okay.” “You sure?” “I’m sure and San,” you say, grabbing his arm. “Yeah?” “You’re gonna be a great dad. The best ever.” San can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face or the slight reddening of his cheeks. You believe in him, you truly do, and for the first time, he does too.

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ TWO OF CUPS .04.

tw. incest, dubcon, coercion, size kink, belly bulge, praise, hair pulling, a lot of emotional bs, jealousy, angst, love triangle wordcount. 7k

part 01 part 02 part 03 fin.

a/n. it has come. the end has come, she's here, it's over and the witch is dead (i'm the witch, this killed me a little inside but i'm very glad to have it finished). as always i would love to hear your interpretations and thoughts about this chapter and story in general because i feel like there's a lot here thats,, up for interpretation and discussion and yea <33 and ty ty ty a million to @seijorhi and @darlingsanzu for beta-ing for me i am in your debt forever and ever

itoshi rin x fem!reader x itoshi sae

He imagines if it were anywhere else, the room would be covered in a thin layer of dust by now. But it isn’t, courtesy of a caring, fretful mother— the room remains in pristine, paled stasis. Instead every old textbook, every picture frame and the ancient soccer jerseys have been dutifully cleaned, and are splayed out in front of him like a near-perfect copy of his childhood. Sae runs his fingers along the length of the desk as he slowly drags himself around the room in a circle, before coming to a halt in front of the bookshelf.

His parents were as surprised as any to see him home, considering he should be ready to head back to Spain soon, with the upcoming season and all. And truthfully, he had been ready to call his bumbling excuse for a manager two days ago. Should’ve landed splayed out in yet another sterile hotel room in a place he doesn’t care to explore hours ago. So he blankly wishes he could play pretend at amazement too. It isn’t very surprising that in his time of uncertainty, he finds himself here- where he used to keep you locked in his arms under thick blankets. He hasn’t been back home in a while. And not unlike other times, there’s a nagging voice in the back of his head.

He picks apart the perfect little shrine of accomplishments of his childhood room by pulling the picture frame up to his face, can’t help but frown at the sight. There’s a younger him -years before he joined Real Madrid- sweaty, sore ankles and exhausted on a bench, and right beside the youthful reflection of his own maroon-haired head, sits a girl a couple years younger. Her cheeks chubby and raised as the beaming smile shines all the way though the flimsy picture paper- and your arms wrapped endlessly tight around his stomach as joyous tears glitter on your lashes.

He won that match, of course, but that uneventful match out of thousands before it wasn’t why the picture landed itself a spot in the middle of his most cherished valuables. You were. The memory of your heart beating into him like a drum, of how it felt to be adored by you. Adoration that had gotten stale years before you’d started giving your all to him— felt different when it came from someone with no deeper motives. When all he’d ever given you was an unending game of playing catch-up.

His hand twitches with the urge to toss the picture back down with the rest of his sentimental crap. He doesn’t bother to put it back in place, pushing it aside for the tiered trophy that looks much too big among his other old belongings. The gold layer gleams in the low light of his room as he takes it off of the shelf, and his frown digs deeper into his face.

But a soft clearing of a throat by the door makes him look up. His mother smiles as she appraises the room, and then him. “I’m making you a protein smoothie. I know you probably won’t stay the night but-”

“I’m driving up to the airport tonight,” he breathes out, trying his best to force the distaste off of his face. His mother nods again, and then steps inside almost cautiously, as if not to disturb the peace of the past. Ironic, Sae thinks, considering. He only came here to do exactly that. Nothing in the Itoshi house is sacred, hasn’t been for years. After a few seconds he plops the trophy onto the desk, and stares down at the woman before him with a deep sigh. “You came in here to say something, right? What’s up?”

You spend enough time with people over the years, you learn their tells. The reddish brunette starts picking at the pictures thumb-tacked above his desk before she speaks. “You stayed over at Rin’s for a few days… We haven't seen either of your siblings in a while.” A pointless starter, because they both know these facts. She’s stalling, tiptoeing around any point worth making.

“Oh, yeah,” he breathes. She could ask about his sudden visit. Or about Rin’s blatant dismissal of going anywhere that you won’t follow. Could ask about what Sae himself did to you. Maybe he’d finally be able to give a straight answer, if she dared. But she doesn’t, and Sae goes back to thumbing through the old photo album tucked away behind a mess of medals. His mother hums.

“You know we’ve tried to raise them to be respectful, and Rin’s shown promise. But your sister—”

Sae’s somewhat of a sadist, he thinks. To everyone around him, but also to himself. Coming here was a surefire way to land himself into shit, and yet... “They’re both in Tokyo and they get along well, mom. What’s the problem with living together?”

“Your father and I think your little sister should start letting you two live your own lives. I know she means well, but isn’t she a little too old to be so- well— you know how she is.” It once again is anything but a compliment. He knows how you are. Sure, folded in angles no brother should ever know his little sister, maybe. It makes a slight breath escape his nose like a laugh, but there’s nothing funny about it. “How else will she ever accomplish—”

“She’s fine! I’m fine, Rin’s fine— and it’s not like you ever cared, anyways. As long as we all hold up your precious standards, you don’t really bother to care, right?” The ticking of his internal alarm reaches zero, as he turns around to stare her down with thinly veiled impatience. “Your constant shit-stirring is what started this whole mess.” No wonder you grew into a codependent ball of emotion. What else could you do than let him kiss your mouth in the peace of night when he begged you to stay. What else could you do than let Rin sink all his problems into the warmth of you.

Your parents don't have the slightest idea of who any of them are, not really. It could hit them in the face and still somehow miss them. It’s almost amusing. 

Her face goes red in the cheeks, sharp eyebrows starting to slant into the irritated grimace that he’s more used to. “What ‘whole mess’? What, what? I’m at fault for being concerned? I would expect you to know by now, Sae. Your little sister’s a needy, unstable girl with no further prospects like you two! And Rin-”

“She probably loves Rin more than you and dad combined ever could. She’s been to every match. Not you, her.” His voice is low and final as he meets the sea blue eyes aimed at him head-on. “And Lord knows no husband will ever look at her like Rin does. But of course you’re too enamored with your ‘perfect children’ bullshit to understand what goes on.” He breezes past the accosted breath of his mother clutching her collar, before walking with long steps towards the door, and letting out a sharp chuckle. “Don’t talk to me about my own little sister. I know who she is.”

+

The street is too bright and prim for his liking, as he walks up the porch toward the building— slowly dragging himself after you as you hesitate at the threshold. Even your absent-minded humming doesn’t make his nerves any less frayed, moving his jaw back and forth when you bury your face back into the papers as if you have any clue what you’re doing. Long enough for his foot to start tapping a rapid rhythm, before he finally nudges your chin up to look up his way. “Hey, we don’t have to do this. You don’t- I…” There’s a distance between you two that seems to grow with each passing second. “This is silly,” he ends on saying, unwilling to dampen the barely-there brightness in your eyes for the first time in days.

Your lower lip juts out as his hand brushes just briefly past your cheek to clear your face, and the wind ruffles the stapled stack of paper. “Daddy told me I should move out of your apartment.” There’s a guardedness that flicks over your face for a second, before you pull out of his reach to start gathering your hair up into a high bun and nod, “there’s two more on my list, you can go home if you don’t want to stay, nii nii.”

Rin’s blue eyes narrow, and he grabs your wrist to pull you back before you can walk away from this. “Hey, forget about what dad says. You don’t have to move out.” The mere idea of having you slip through his fingers presses on his chest, rattling his ribs a little with each breath. It gnaws and claws at the back of his brain hard enough to make him a little dizzy and— and he knows you don’t want this. You can’t possibly think that being alone would somehow be better than being with him. “I never asked you to move out.”

“Niichan,” your voice is small when you dare turn more his way, revealing the wobbly lip as you try to pull your arm out of his reach. He can’t be wrong about that.

“I’m not- I’m not asking, okay? Listen, we’re going home-”

You shake, shoulders and head both. “Why are you making this so difficult? I know I’ve already overstayed my welcome, and you’re too nice to tell me ‘no’. That’s what this is.” No. He isn’t wrong. He knows you- and you couldn’t fake the kindness you give him when he fails the most basic family rules. If anyone imposes… it’s him. With every kiss along your shoulders in the bathroom, or when you let him pull you onto his lap to wind down whenever he damn pleases. His selfishness is the thing that overstayed— for long enough that he can’t even imagine his life without you.

His thoughts might not come out as well in words, but even you must know this much. You aren’t this self deprecating. Before he can find it in himself to care that you two are technically out in the open, he grabs your cheeks on both sides, and lowers himself to press his forehead to yours. He loves you. He loves you so much he could die. He hears, more than sees, how you fumble with the papers in your hands as he keeps you so close to him— opening up that shield for once. There is no world in which he allows it to end with you even further away.

“I want you to stay.” The whisper clearly deals more damage than he intends, because your eyes go glossy as soon as he says it. “Don’t make me beg you.” He pulls back from you just enough to take a breath, but his thumbs stay on your soft skin. You suck your bottom lip in between your teeth, before pulling up your nose and leaning the weight of your head into his one palm. It’s soft, and too gentle -makes him scared to snap you in two with a single move- he thinks it wouldn’t be past him. Sae delivered a serious blow, he knows that. If he wasn’t so green with envy, he’d be able to relate.

After a few more seconds, you faithfully reach to press your mouth to his like you’ve been conditioned to do. And hesitate, staring at the path under your feet. “Okay.” You wrap your arms around his waist— and only leave him aching for more.

Always more, barely getting his gluttonous fill started. Still, it makes his skin tingle with heat, buzzing along his lips. Your fingers lace themselves in his, and he’s only very vaguely aware of the old couple passing you two by with a disgruntled sigh. It makes him pull you protectively close. And a soft, almost fearful chuckle falls past his lips. “You aren’t going anywhere without me, okay?”

+

Rin doesn’t mind having a temper when it doesn’t play him parts. It is what made him the man he is today. When you’re not involved, he even likes it. But though he tries his very best to control himself, his jealousy inevitably ends up catching up to him. Patiently built up through the years— it barely makes it a whole week after Sae leaves before it bloats inside him and starts to rupture. Leaving a sour, sour taste deep in the crevices of his skull.

The apartment is all you when he walks in. It strikes him as you face him with big eyes, that warm at his presence. You’re wearing an oversized shirt that just about covers your ass, and are turning the food around in the pan as your face lights up; and any sane brother would act accordingly, but his brain insists. This is the sight he wants to be greeted with for the rest of his life. Having the one person who can harm you closest, or something. He always was an opportunist, but he thought Sae the selfish one.

It’s almost pitiful that you play your role so graciously. The tongs rattle against the cutting board when you perk up to kiss him, and for a second longer than usual, he keeps you. Ever since Sae, his guilt hasn’t been enough to keep the longing down. It’s karmic punishment, probably. Always stuck treading in the redhead’s footprints. He keeps his mouth against yours until you start getting hot in the face, and start fidgeting with his fingers.

Not that Rin cares. He simply wraps himself around your back and links his arms under your breasts, and knows you won’t protest. The colors of Sae’s barrage on your throat have yet to fade, deep purples and blues that tint yellow at the edges— and asks him to resist the urge to make his own. He truly, truly doesn’t mean to be this way. You’d probably have a breakdown, and he has yet to even touch that can of worms. In your presence, he almost forgets. If he wasn’t so often fucking reminded, maybe he’d be able to rid himself of the shackles he knows are clinking at his ankles.

The brief brush of his lips along your jaw makes you shiver, then you look back at him over your shoulder. “That tickles, nii nii. Stop it.”

“I’m just looking.” The cockettish curl that your lips take on when he raises a single brow is devilishly distracting, hips suddenly pressing much too close to yours— so he averts his eyes, but can’t make himself pull away from you. Instead he talks, trying not to nuzzle into your cheek. When you try to slip out, his hands chase, and trail fingertips along your skin just below the shirt. A shirt he recognizes as Sae’s when trying to hide away in your smell, only to be painfully reminded. After a long breath, he brushes a finger along your throat, resting his chin. “What’s all this?”

He’s sure you’re not naïve enough to miss the question. But you only raise your shoulders the slightest bit, and jut out your lip. “Hmm… I- don’t know.” It’s hardly a lie, convincing exactly no one. You don’t miss a beat though, and focus on the food. “How was the meeting?”

Rin can’t help but frown at the blatant dismissal, but tonight, he’s too tired to care. He’s so fucking sick of letting Sae in, even when he’s not even around. So he strokes your thigh harder, in an attempt to feel more of your heat. “Training this year will be in Germany and France.”

“Oh.” You seem to let out a silent sigh of gratitude as he lets you run, before the situation catches up with you. “Oh. For how long?”

“Three months.” The tone of your voice is distinctly soft, and has his eyes on the tiny drop of your mouth corners. It’s a non-issue, though. Even if he could physically stand it -which he’s not so sure he could, supporting his weight against your smaller body- he wouldn’t want to go. You’re coming, whether you like it or not. “What kind of hotel room do you want?” His instinct is to press another kiss to your cheek, trailing his mouth ever so slowly down to your throat and shoulder — and trying his fucking hardest not to let the whisper send his thoughts down the wrong path.

“Nii nii-”

Too late. It’s much too easy to envision you in the plush covers of his bed, moaning out his name like you did… Like he knows you can, dressed in his shirt instead. Your hips are pressed close to his, and you smell so fucking good, you have his eyes fluttering shut as he repositions his hands to your thighs. He only swallows hard, lets out a deep breath against the soft skin where your neck meets your shoulder, and forces himself to pull his mouth away.

There’s a low, rumbling sort of noise in his voice when he speaks next. “What? You’re coming along, right?” As he glances at the side of your face, he’s awfully aware of the jittery way you’re trying to continue dinner, blushy hot ears and cheeks, and lips puffy and glistening from biting them. It’s fucking unfair. His mind instinctively wanders, and heat pools in his cock and balls too quickly before he manages to take a few deep breaths. “I know you don’t wanna stay here all alone.”

“I don’t. If- If you want me to come, I will,” you nod, and also shiver when his hands softly squeeze in response. “You won’t mind sharing a room with me even in a hotel?”

God, he wants to bend you over and grab you by the collar for being so fucking dense. It’s cute though, too innocent to reason with- it stresses him out as much as it heats his entire body. How could he mind, after two years of sleeping in the same bed as you. “We’re used to it, ‘course I don’t.” You move out of his arms to turn off the stove, and smile, but it doesn’t really seem to reach your eyes. As your hands slide along your neck and shoulders, your posture stiffens, swaying softly on your feet— and Rin sucks his tongue. Those fucking blotchy marks come clear into view again, and they nag. They’re a sore sight, a few breaths away from nauseating.

He can’t help but think you wouldn’t ask the same question to the oldest.

To add insult to injury, you nuzzle into the soft edge of the shirt for comfort, in a way so awfully familiar it makes him feel ill. Why, why, why. His heart rate spikes as he stares at the floor instead. “You spent weeks in a hotel with Sae when he went to train.” It comes out a lot more accusatory than he had in mind, though he tries to hide the bitter tone in his voice. “Can’t be that different.”

“It is different.”

“-How is it any different? Because Sae will abuse your silence in a way that I don’t?” It’s so fucked. Rin knows full well that he isn’t innocent in this situation, not even close. But he hates the way you fist your hands into Sae’s shirt, how you cling to it like a lifeline— not even trying to cover the hickeys he seared into your neck the first second Rin wasn’t looking. Hates it so much that arguing rationally goes out the window. He wants you to love him as much as he loves you; because facing himself makes him sick. There’s nothing in the world more painful than knowing what he feels for you. So fully and deeply to his bone marrow, it squeezes his chest so tight the air barely reaches him.

“W- I just-” your eyes desperately dart around the kitchen for anything to say, “I love niichan, and he- he loves-”

“No, I love you, imouto! I’m the one who cares! He came here to use you and leave, and you’re asking me to pretend like I’m fucking stupid, or blind! I’m not here for you to feel better about being Sae nii’s play thing,” he snaps, having your eyes wide at the outburst, wringing his hands together in shame. Shame at needing to beg to want him, to care. Shame at longing for his own fucking blood in ways he shouldn’t. Shame at how fucking lesser than he feels. It builds and builds until his face feels hot, and Sae’s stupid fucking smug grin flashes in front of his eyes. He wants to tear his own hair out at it, but it wouldn’t even solve anything.

He can’t escape it, as long as he doesn’t have you as a guarantee. You, little, sweet you— stand there so disarmed, seeming so much younger than you are— tear-filled eyes and crossed arms. It’s the same look you’d get when Sae would goad you into stupid fights that you’d inevitably lose, or any time Rin would pretend to hate you as a kid. You almost seem to topple over with the force of the words, and Rin falls quiet. Your pitiful look is all that’s left in Pandora's box. “Don’t… don’t cry.”

Your bottom lip wobbles until your shoulders pathetically start to drop, like a kitten picked up by her neck, and you scrunch your face in a way he’s never had to see before— it shatters any composure he has left. “I can’t not…” your voice sinks to a whisper, a sad little whimper. “I don’t know- wh-how. I’m sorry, I don’t get you two. I don’t get it— I just can’t- have you leave me too. Don’t leave, nii nii.”

Silvery tracks run all over your cheeks, your chin, down your neck before you finally dare look at him again, and beg. “Please, I’ll do anything you want, I just- Can’t handle it if you leave- hck- Please, Rin. Anything you want, I just- don’t make me go without you too.”

Your hand hovers halfway between grabbing for him and falling short, as you cry- for him. For him to stay, and ask him to, for maybe the first time, give his feelings a chance. Selfishly, so fucking selfishly, it blossoms inside him with a prideful glow. It dismantles him and rebuilds him from the ground up all at once, has his heart beating out of control against the same rib cage that shouldered his guilt, before he manages to peel his tongue from the bottom of his mouth.

“I’m not going anywhere…” his voice manages, almost cracking along with the tremble in his hands as he places them on your sides, sliding to your waist.

The physical, emotional turmoil instantly ebbing away when you crash yourself into his chest, is almost sickening. It doesn’t matter though, not to him, not when he lifts you up into his embrace and your legs wrap around his waist, letting him rest his face against your throat and allowing you to burrow yourself into his arms. “I’m sorry. Your big brothers love you, I promise. I love you. I’m never leaving.” The way you cling to him gets tighter, as if forcefully anchoring you to his chest— and he takes it as space enough to nudge his face up into your view and brush noses in the process. He should feel more guilty. He knows Sae, and he knows you- and despite what the other man might think, Rin has no illusions of being a saint.

Rin knows that Sae told you whatever string of lies that stuck best, asked you to lay down under him and come undone, and you did so without a second thought. And though he hates that thought, it isn’t born out of the goodness of his heart. He wants you to be his, and only his. The brush of his face along yours makes you shiver, and softly shake your head- but he can’t help it. He can’t do you one better than Sae did. His lips hover yours, lashes fluttering under low lids as the salty taste of your tears gets between you. His hand raises to your neck, letting you arms and legs support yourself against him as he pulls you in, and whispers. “Kiss me back.”

+

The small, rounded window reflects back his own face against the dark sky, tipping the dark liquid around the glass in disinterest. First class feels awfully plain now, he almost laughs, sliding the glass along the bar. A pretty, blonde flight attendant passes by, swinging her hips as she tops up the other man’s glass with a smile and deposits another bottle by their sides. Sae doesn’t bother to look up as he fiddles with the fine chain in his pocket.

“Come on, prodigy boy… we’ve got two more hours to kill.” Michael’s small smirk grows when he tosses another few ice cubes into his glass, and tops himself up even further. “Don’t tell me you’re already tuckered out.” The chain slips between his fingers a little as he pulls it out— and lets out a long, pinched breath. Long lashes brush his cheeks as his eyes narrow, and the gold-plated necklace lands in his palm. He pops the small square open.

Even printed so small, your taste is mirrored back onto his tongue, and sets the hairs on his neck on end.

Michael barely gives him a momentary glance, before taking a sip, crossing his arms over his chest. “I didn’t know you were religious.”

“I’m not.” His thumb brushes ever so briefly over the face in the picture, before he snaps it closed again. And the white blond raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t ask, for once. Maybe he knows the answer won’t satisfy any of his curiosity. Doesn’t matter to Sae. The whites and oranges of the airplane make light spots in the layer of fog outside— and he raises the glass to his lips after all. He wants to groan and yell until he drowns out the noise. Maybe punch something too.

His life has been a string of unfortunate sacrifices… so why. Why is this one any different? The slightly sweet tone under the bourbon hits the back of his throat, and he rests his forehead on the cool bar in hopes of getting a clearer head. Instead of clearing anything, his thoughts start crawling to the forefront again. He thinks of the flow of your hair between his fingers, and the way you say his name. He doesn’t miss home. Doesn’t miss Japan. He just misses the warmth in his chest when he’s able to return to you. God, he hates his pitiful, sentimental crap.

He wonders if Rin’s finally made a move.

+

Your mouth is completely occupied as Rin crawls over you and slides a leg aside to fit his hips against yours— your hands sliding into his hair when you roll back your head with a soft squeak to catch your breath. “Rin, Rin- I don’t think we should- do this.”

Your clothes are discarded by his feet and your pliable body laid out before him as your legs brush his. He shivers as your breath brushes over his cheek, and makes him want to clench his eyes shut to escape it- but he can’t. Never could before, and it’s no different now. He’s entranced by the rise and fall of your chest even under your hands that keep the slightest sliver of modesty. Not like he hasn’t seen all of you before, right?

He allows for a few breaths before he needs to be back to your mouth, opening your lips with his and connecting tongues— and almost knocks teeth with yours in his excitement to get closer. Your tongue on his tastes so good, melting every warm, desperate feeling and slipping it down his throat. Now your palms go to grasp his waist instead, brushing over the exposed skin to squeeze. “Rin.” He’s barely clear headed enough to pull back to cast a glance at you, and he grunts out your name. His face moves to your tits instead, grabbing and licking at every inch of skin that he can, and you whimper. “St-Listen to me. I think- we can’t.”

He can’t listen. His mouth slots over your nipple to bite at it, and you go to grab a handful of his hair with desperate, flexing and unflexing hands. Your chest raises into his touch and the licking and sucking, and it sets everything in his head up in flames. You’re no longer the little sister he wanted to protect. Not when you’re withering in his lap and grinding yourself against him like a slut, begging with fluttering lashes for his cock to drive home. Fuck. “Rin nii~” you whine, your lips are puffy and glistening. “Hmph, listen~” Fuck fuck fuck, he wants to have you crying out his name until it’s carved into his brain.

“What?” he finally manages to breathe back, skipping his hand along your naked thigh. His heart is about to beat out of his chest with you under him, rocking the couch when he raises himself above you. But can you blame him? He’s never been so fucking hard in his life, unable to think of anything but the softness of your body under him, and the taste of you. He slides up to tilt you back more and lets his eyes fall to your naked body again. Maybe he should be used to it by now. Used to you. But everything about you makes his body feel like a balloon that’s about to pop— and he sucks his tongue, fighting the urge to drool over all of you. “What?” he repeats again, eyebrows raising.

Rin realizes a split second before you speak that he doesn’t want to know, sees it in the pitiful look of your half-lidded eyes. But you’re too honest for your own good. “I never told you- that niichan touched me. I’m sorry. I said that we couldn’t- but- but niichan didn’t listen to me. And now he doesn’t like me anymore.” Too fucking honest for your own good. His stupid, pretty little sister splayed out in his fucking lap. How naïve are you? Instead of any solid thoughts crossing his mind, his mouth simply falls open a sliver, and he stares. If he didn’t already believe you… he would probably laugh. “I know I did a bad thing. I’m sorry.” Your lip wobbles, and you pull his hand to your chest to cling onto him. His temperature reaches a boiling point, flushing his brain with red.

“It is bad.” He nudges your face up to his with a soft sigh, and then presses several kisses along your lips. “If you’re gonna do this with anyone, shouldn’t it be me?” He could say that he will regret the way you look up at him with a thousand stars in your eyes. But that would be a lie. He’s out of guilt. His spine tingles with longing, face hot, his cock and balls thumping. It’s impossible to think of anything else. He kisses you again, letting your moans and whimpers drown out anything else, and moves to sit onto the couch. Then he pulls back only to pat his lap, and raises a brow at you as you search his face with your eyes. “Sit here, on your big brother’s lap. Hurry.”

You only hesitate for a few seconds, before he asks a little more sternly, and has you moving. “Do you have any clue how badly I’ve wanted you? Every time I look at you, you look so fucking good. So soft and sexy.”

“Don’t say that stuff,” you squeak, but you don’t fight him.

“I always want you,” Rin simply continues, as you lay your legs on his strong thighs with a pout, “you get my cock so fucking hard, see?” You do see, licking your lips as you take a deep breath and your hips roll against him instinctively. Your hands thread together behind his head, and Rin’s gotta focus so fucking hard not to start fucking the plush of your thighs. “Open your mouth.” He grunts when sliding his long fingers over your tongue, collecting enough spit to coat his fingers.

While his cock bops impatiently against your stomach, he’s transfixed on the embarrassed look in your eyes, and your whimpers as he pulls back. Truly, he’d like to spend hours exploring. And another couple hours giving you back the pure torture you put him through for the last two years. But he can’t, not when his cock is brushing its flushed head all along the belly and smearing pre-cum all over you. “Normally I’d ask you to put your mouth on it,” he grunts, free hand sliding along your cheek and taking a handful of hair, “but you’d have to keep a mouth full of cum.”

“Niichan, don’t-” you whine again, humming when the tug on your hair lingers between painful and pleasurable, “don’t say that~”

He can’t help but grin, licking a long stripe up your chest to your neck, and placing sloppy kisses on the skin. “You don’t like knowing that your big brothers want to fuck you? That you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger?” You mewl when he leaves a bite on your soft skin, before moving his hands to your ass and sliding one down between your legs. Your pussy’s already dripping despite your protest, has him slipping two fingertips inside and curling his hand up into you. He can’t fucking resist. It eats him up from the inside, mouth corners again twitching up. “I think you do like it. I think your pussy’s all-” His fingers fuck up into the soft walls of you, “-fucking-” again and again, leaving you panting, “-mine.” He probably shouldn’t find so much glee in it.

“Mhph,” your fingers dig into his shoulders, and your bottom lip is squeezed between your teeth, before you lean down to kiss him. Soft, almost sweet kisses, if not for the way your body grinds back into his palm and you whine softly like an animal in heat. It’s so fucking cute. It has his cock pulsing as he takes a breath, and looks at the sloppy way you leave his hand.

“Move up,” he quickly mumbles, kissing you back once before your thighs rise and he wipes his fingers on your slicked up mound, then slotting them into his mouth. He can’t even resist moaning out a rumbly, gravelly call of your name before he grabs two hands of your ass and helps you up. “Fuck, you’re so-” everything. If anyone had ever told him he’d be this weak over another person, he would’ve laughed. “Gonna fill you up, finally, f-finally gonna feel your little cunt squeeze around me.” His forehead rests on your chest for a second, placing a few lazy kisses on your tits, before he looks up. And though you look awfully flushed, embarrassed and heated- with teary eyes and puffy, bitten lips- you still run a hand through his hair and along his neck.

Then he lines up and moves you down onto him, and the first touch is all he needs to start feeling cotton fill up his brain. Your pussy takes him so well, sliding inch by excruciating inch onto his cock, and whimpering every second of it— you look spent well before he slides you down the last bit and your walls clench around him hard enough to knock the air out of him. He never thought you that small, but the way you struggle to take him, shaking on your legs and letting out every mewled thought, is so fucking hot. He loves you. Rin’s a sister fucker, and he’s never felt so fucking good in his life.

“Oh, fuck. You’re so tight- t-tiny little pussy… Holy-fuck, ugh—” You’re so warm, and soft, and he can’t help himself. He’s pushing you over onto your back before he can think of it, and places both hands besides you. Wide shoulders cover your view until you’re forced to hang on as he pulls back and fucks back in hard.

The slaps that fill the house as he pumps his thick, heavy cock into you are a melodic dream, making you whine and moan and dig your fingers and nails into his back. “Rin niichan, ah, ah, ahhh- I love you- I love you— ah, l-love you~” He fucks into you without abandon, letting his cock fuck right into the soft, spongey part of your walls and filling you right up. The rhythm he sets is hard and deep, and shakes the couch around enough to hear it groan. But he’s lost in the way your body curls, and you lift your chest to his, head thrown back— and almost choke on your teary whimpers. “F-feels- so gud- ah, I- I’m sorry. Mom, dad, I’m sorry. I love my— big brother!”

It’s like a beast that his balls clap against your ass and his one hand finds purchase between you two to toy with your nipples as he pants. His balls ache, with every wet gush of slick that collects between your two bodies it drives him further into you, fucking the head of his cock deeper and more precicely into you. He can see his cock slide in and out through your belly. It’s vile- in a way that makes everything feel blank, pleasurable and tingling down his spine. “Can you rub your clit for me,” he breathes, and kisses you, sucking on your tongue when you oblige with shaky hands. “Uhuh, such a good little sister. The best- b-best fucking hole, ugh-fuck.”

“Nii nii, I’m close.”

He’s burning through you, losing himself in the pleasure of filling you up all the way as your fingers flit over your puffy clit like he knows you like. He could do it for you if he wasn’t so desperately trying to keep himself from blowing his load, feeling the muscles in his legs, back and shoulders flex as he chases that peak. “Gonna cum? You gonna cum?” Your rapid nodding, paired with the grinding of your hips and your back curling off the couch is enough to have him kissing your pouty lips again, and keeping that same exact punishing rhythm even as your pussy squeezes him tight enough to keep him in you— grunting. You’d be able to kill him here and he’d go happy. “Oh, fuck— so good, so fucking good-”

He can feel you fall over the edge before he sees it, and despite the best of efforts, cums together with you as you cling so hard to his shoulders you’ll leave marks. You cum on his cock as hot ropes of white fill up your clenching pussy, dripping a mess out of your shared orgasms as he shudders on top of you and only stills completely when your moaning goes into a pitched little whine, and then a deep breath of his name. “Rin nii~” you pout, rubbing your palms along his sides a few times. It looks like you want to say something, but can’t find the words, and it warms him from the inside out. But he pulls back a little, cock still awfully hard inside you, and his hand cups your cheek.

“Can you go again? I wanna go again.” Then his lips land on yours, pressing loving kisses all over your face, cheeks, your nose, and you let out a little giggle. “And again, and again, and again.” For the first time in a while, Rin finds himself completely, utterly happy. And not a single thought is out of place.

+

Sae’s staring up at the ceiling of his fancy apartment as he starfishes the bed, and the slow rings have him rolling onto his side. The phone beeps, before going into voicemail again. And he frowns. Your name blinks back at him as he pulls back, and the soft tone of your message rings through the device.

“Hey, I- you don’t normally miss calls… Must be pretty busy over there, huh? This is the third voicemail I’m leaving within two days.” He rights himself to stare out the window of his pristine Barcelona apartment, and runs a hand through his bangs with a click of his tongue. “I uh- I shouldn’t have left without a word. I was- well, I don’t know. I miss- you, I guess.” His air gets a little stuck in his throat, and needs a cough to get going. “Anyways, call me back when you hear this. Niichan’s gonna be playing in the World cup. Tell Rin to get his ass into the lineup already.”

And then, after a long breath, “tell him he kinda owes me.”

FIN

Thank you so much for reading my series to the end, i have so much love for these three and i will miss it and them :'>>

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[irisintheafterglow]

I Think He Knows (pro!kirishima x you)

summary: he's not into party games, so what do you do for seven minutes when you're locked in the closet with your high school crush?

wc: 2.9k

cw/tags: aged up characters!!, friends to lovers, mutual pining, swearing (lots of it), truth or dare, slightly suggestive toward the end but nothing descriptive, first kiss, alcohol and drinking, just pro heroes being idiots

note: prompt is once again from @creativepromptsforwriting because i wanted to write a silly party confession fic ! hope you enjoy, i did NOT mean for this to become this long lmao. he's literally so boyfriend why can't he be real

likes/reblogs/feedback is always appreciated <3

“I want him so bad I’m gonna pass out,” she confesses, throwing herself onto your body and sighing longingly. “Do you think he thinks of me often?”

“Now I really feel like we’re in high school again, ‘chaco. I think you should talk to him about your love life instead of me. Maybe he’ll get the hint, that way.” 

“Hypocrite.” She scowls at you over the rim of her plastic cup, downing another serving of punch with questionable amounts of alcohol. “I had to hear about your infatuation all the time.” 

You stick your tongue out defiantly. “It wasn’t an infatuation. It was just a crush, that’s all.” 

“Yeah, a crush that lasted three whole years,” she hiccups, crossing her legs next to you on the couch and leaning her head on your shoulder. “Do you think about him often? Remember, no lies.” Your eyes immediately gravitate to who she’s talking about, supervising some drinking game at the wet bar that has Kaminari’s eyes watering and Shoto’s face bright red. Deku tries in vain to stop Bakugo from downing shot after shot, ultimately accepting a mystery concoction handed to him by Sero. He immediately spits it out all over Bakugo and both of them are so intoxicated they can’t aim hits at each other correctly. You laugh under your breath and quickly dart your eyes away when Kirishima looks over his shoulder in your direction. Ochaco nods knowingly, giving your thigh a squeeze that startles you. “Oh, you definitely do.” 

Before you can respond, Mina throws the front door of Sero’s house open followed closely by Jiro and Momo. Overflowing grocery bags of junk food line her arms and she kicks the door shut behind her as her hands are both holding a bottle of soju each. Cheers echo through the house at her arrival and she bows dramatically. 

“Looks like the party’s finally here,” Ochaco winks at you before joining Tsu to help Mina unload the groceries. You shake your head as your chest feels the familiar lightness that always came when your entire class was happy and having fun. It was Mina’s idea to have a reunion party, after all, and you knew everyone was looking forward to it. It was scheduled months ago because everyone’s calendars needed to line up and from the looks of it, all of you needed the break. With the press kept back by several thousands of volts of electricity running through the perimeter gate of Sero’s house, you and your friends could finally relax.

Or, so you thought. 

“Okay, party people! Now that we’re all slightly fucked up, it’s time for some games! First game is 7 Minutes in Heaven!”

“As if this hasn’t been 45 minutes of Hell already,” Shinso deadpans from a neighboring armchair, but even you could tell he was enjoying himself by the slight quirk in the corner of his mouth. 

Mina sends a joking glare at him, chucking a balled-up napkin at him. “Get in the fucking circle, Hitoshi.” 

You slide down from the couch onto the floor and feel a muscular bicep press against your arm. “You mind if I sit here?” When you turn to that all-too-familiar voice, you’re blinded by a bright shark-toothed grin and glittering crimson eyes. You smile and nod in assent, eyes widening when you look away to stop your heart from racing. You catch Ochaco’s gaze and she smirks mischievously, to which you loudly suggest the seat next to her when Deku is trying to find a spot in the circle. You wink at her and crack open another can of some fruity mixed drink. 

“So!” Mina begins as Jiro positions an empty glass bottle on the coffee table in the middle of the circle. “Do we all know the rules of 7 Minutes in Heaven–”

“Why the fuck are we using a bottle?” Bakugo’s rough voice cuts through the polite silence and Mina rolls her eyes. “Isn’t that a different fucking game?” 

“It’s only there to ensure no bias in the participants of the game, Bakugo,” Shoto boredly drawls. His face is blank when his eyes meet Bakugo’s. “If we wanted, we could spin your dense head–”

“You wanna go, Ice Pack?”

“Let’s allow Mina to finish speaking!” Ever the diplomat, Momo shakes her head impatiently while she effectively halts the two Pros’ piss match. You feel Kirishima’s sigh of relief that he didn’t have to restrain anyone and bite your lip to suppress a chuckle. 

“As I was saying,” she continues as she delicately dances around the circle. “The bottle will be spun two times. If it lands between two people on the first go-around, those people have to go in. But normally, whoever the bottle points at gets locked in the closet with the other person who’s pointed at for seven minutes. What you two do for those seven minutes…” A suggestive glint flashes across Mina’s dark eyes and she shrugs carefreely. “That’s none of our business.”

An awkward silence settles over the group as Mina continues to stand but seems to be expecting someone else to speak. She clears her throat and Denki suddenly perks up with something to say. “Wait, is this when I do the thing?” Your eyebrows dip in confusion, as do most of your other classmates except for Mina and Sero. 

“Yes, Denki. This is when you do the thing, so go get it.” Sero pinches the bridge of his nose as Denki shoots upward, running down the hallway to grab something from the storage closet. When he returns, he triumphantly holds a cardboard box labeled “HEART RATE MONITOR x2.”

Deku groans, covering his face as Mina beams. “Oh, no…”

“Oh, yes.”

“Did you steal that from some fuckin’ pharmacy?” Bakugo and Shoto both appear horrified. 

“What? No! I got it from my neighbor’s garage sale.”

“That’s even worse!”

Sounds of protest erupt from your classmates and you can’t help giggling at their reluctance to have their heart rate tracked. From your time in high school and into your professional career, you knew you never got picked during these games. You were resting easy knowing you never had to kiss one of your friends because of some stupid bottle. Especially with the positioning of Kirishima right next to you, the odds of you two needing to go into the closet together were slim to none. Tonight, you knew, would be no different than the past as you vaguely listened to Denki explain the use of the heart rate monitor. 

“Basically, we’re gonna call out if you’re making the other person’s pulse jump. It’s like that one part of that couples show we caught Iida watching during our second year,” Mina summarizes and Iida’s stoic voice pipes up in defense of his “research” on how best to acquire a lover while the circle snickers at the memory. Tokoyami’s hand reaches up to pat his shoulder sympathetically. 

“Alright, spin the fuckin’ bottle already! I’m literally aging over here.” Kirishima snorts next to you, hiding a choked laugh with a cough into his sleeve and you jokingly pat his back in concern. You’re too preoccupied with looking at him to notice the gasps and noises of shock as the bottle finishes its rotation around the circle. Confused at the excited expressions of your friends, you look down to see who the bottle pointed at. 

It was between you and Kirishima. 

You had to play 7 Minutes in Heaven with the boy you had a crush on for the entirety of high school. 

Your mind blacked out, face feeling like it was on fire as you both were hooked up to one heart monitor each. You didn’t dare glance at Kirishima because, for all you knew, he was irritated about being picked for these types of games since it wasn’t manly. Ochaco waggled her eyebrows at you and you felt slightly nauseous as she hooked up the machine to your pulse, guiding the wires under the door. “We’ll see you in seven minutes,” Mina crooned. “Have fun!” 

The door locked and you were in complete darkness with him. It was suffocatingly quiet, so silent that breathing felt like a trumpeting elephant. Hushed whispers come from the other side of the door as your classmates analyze your pulse. 

Jesus, his heart is racing. Like, dangerously fast!

So is theirs. Doesn’t sound like they’re doing anything in there, though.

You think he’ll actually make a move tonight?

Dude, shut the fuck up. They can probably hear us through the door. 

You swallow and wince when the noise is audible in the isolated quiet of the closet. 

“So, uh–”

“I, um–” 

You both start to speak and cut off just as abruptly, apologizing profusely and insisting the other go first. He takes a deep breath before he speaks again. 

“Look, honestly, I’m not really…into these types of games,” he starts, breath ragged but you couldn’t imagine why. “I don’t really know how to explain it, I just…”

“I know. It’s okay. Not manly to make out or do God knows what with someone you’re not dating, right?” Your laugh is shaky and you mentally kick yourself for feeling so jittery. 

“Yeah,” he exhales, relieved that you’re not going to expect him to do something he was uncomfortable with. You know damn well he would never make you do something you were uncomfortable with. It’s quiet again for a few moments before he clears his throat and continues. “But… I feel bad just making you sit here in awkward silence so…do you wanna play truth or dare instead?” 

Oh, shit, their heart rate finally spiked! 

Why’s it say that his breathing is super shallow? 

You’re reading something wrong because that’s definitely not what this measures. 

“Sure.” You hear him shift around in his seat on the floor and you lean against the wall, pulling your legs close. “Wanna go first?” 

“Yeah. Alright, uh…well, truth or dare?” 

You choose the safe option, always. “Truth.” You had no idea what he would possibly ask you, but you knew it was probably going to be harmless. 

“What’s your type?” Your blood runs cold in your veins and you pray that your heartbeat isn’t as loud in reality as it is in your ears. He must mistake your silence for confusion. “Like…in a guy.” 

“Um…” Your voice trails off, mind running at a million miles an hour to bury your secret. “Someone nice, I guess.” He hums in acknowledgement, waiting for you to explain further. “I’d like him to be supportive of me and my career. Good with my friends, that’s a given. Uh…yeah. Just not a scumbag.” You laugh to relieve some of the tension in your chest and feel a little lighter when you hear him chuckle too. “I don’t really care about body type or looks; I just want him to be a good person who will treat me right. In my dreams, I’d like him to treat me like I’m royalty, adore me and whatever. That’s hard to come by these days, though.” 

Fuck, his pulse is racing! 

What could they be doing in there so quietly that’s making him so nervous? 

Shall we alert medical personnel? 

No, Iida. You can see their hearts are still beating right here. 

“Alright, well. I hope you find the man of your dreams then. He sounds great.” In the darkness, you could have sworn he sounded almost…disappointed? “Okay, your turn. Ask me.”

“Hmm, okay. Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” 

The question slips out before you can stop it. You blame the liquid courage and the mystery drink Ochaco made for you. “What’s your type?” 

Wow, that’s a huge spike for him. 

It looks like their heart rate has leveled out; does that mean they’re not nervous anymore? 

Maybe, or maybe they’re used to the energy now. He’s still a stuttering mess in there, I bet. 

“Uh, someone familiar, if that makes sense. Like, you know, hero stuff can get really exhausting. I think my type is just someone who I can come home to and who’ll love me even through the good and the bad. Someone to help me fight battles, physical and mental, you know?” You nod and realize he can’t see it, so you settle for humming in agreement. Your brain feels fuzzy and it takes a considerable amount of effort to focus on the smooth tone of his voice. 

“Do you remember the first battle we fought together?” 

“Of course I do.” You can hear the fond smile in his voice. “I volunteered to partner with you because I thought you were cool.” 

“You didn’t know anything about me yet.”

“Didn’t matter. It just felt right to be with you.” 

Huge spike for both of them! 

Seems like he’s having a whole rollercoaster of emotions in there. 

Your heart stops again and you wish there was light so you could read his expression, whether he meant it platonically or something more. “Okay, my turn. Would you ever date anyone outside? Like from our friend group?”

He’s silent for a long time and you worry he didn’t hear you correctly before he gives a definitive, “No.” Impulse takes hold of your mind. 

“Why not?” 

“I’m just not interested in any of them.” 

“But you are interested in someone?” The second question falls from your lips naturally and you don’t expect him to answer it considering that it wasn’t part of the game. 

His pulse is slowly increasing again. He must be getting nervous. 

“Yeah, I am.” Your heart drops into your stomach. Of course he was interested in someone, and they were probably interested back, but the likelihood of it being you was in your wildest dreams. 

“Hmm, okay. Your turn.” 

“Are you interested in anyone in our friend group?” 

Your voice chokes in your throat. “Y-Yeah.” Sweat beads on your burning face and for the first time, you’re grateful for the lack of light so he can’t see how much you’re panicking. 

“Are they outside right now?”

“It’s my turn to ask, Kiri.”

“You got an extra one on me, if you think I didn’t notice.” His voice is dangerously low, more serious than you’ve heard him in a long time. “So. Is the person you’re interested in outside right now?” 

Both their pulses are racing again. 

They must be talking about something because this doesn’t happen if you’re just kissing the entire time. 

Oh, because you have lots of experience kissing and getting people’s heart rates up?

Ask your mom about my experience with kissing–

You asshole– 

Shut the hell up! I’m trying to eavesdrop! 

You steady your resolve, inhaling and exhaling deeply before answering the expectant darkness. “No, they’re not out there right now.” You can hear the confusion cross his face as he calculates who in your friend group was absent. 

“Who are you–”

“He’s in here with me.” The smallest oh escapes his lips and you pray for the time to go faster, body burning in shame. “Sorry, this is a really weird way of telling you, but…”

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your brain short-circuits. 

“Huh?” You question dumbly. 

“I wanna kiss you. Please.” 

“You don’t have to, Kiri, really. You don’t have to play the rules of the game if–”

“This isn’t about the game anymore. I wanna kiss you, game or no game.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I like you.” He huffs and you hear him run a hand through his hair in the darkness. He only did that when he was nervous. You were making him nervous. “You’re the only one I’m interested in, the only one I’ve been interested in since high school.” 

What the fuck? 

Denki, your fucking machine broke! 

We lost their pulses! 

Did those idiots break the heart rate monitor? 

I think you broke the heart monitor, stupid.

You’re speechless and, tired of words, you crawl toward his voice in the darkness. It seems that he had the same idea as he receives you eagerly. His calloused hands pull you into his lap until you’re on top of him, fiddling with the hair at the back of his neck. His breath is hot on your neck as you wait there for something to happen and you sigh into his mouth when it finally finds yours. The first kiss is gentle and sweet, careful not to scare you away. But after you catch your breath and pull him closer by his jacket collar, his fingers firmly press into your hips, running over the eaves of your body. Your breath comes short and fast and you needily pull him closer as he confidently meets your wordless demands. He pulls away for a moment, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. 

“Kiri…”

“Eijiro.”

“Eiji, please.” 

“Hold on. It’s been seven minutes. And, for the record, I want to date you.”

You’re barely able to supply your agreement before a loud banging on the closet door startles you. 

Alright, lovebirds, that’s time! Opening up the door in three…two…what? 

Before they can open the door, you catch the telltale sound of Eijiro hardening his arm and a spark of light as he slams his fist down on the door handle, locking you in but also locking everyone else out. 

Oh, shit! He actually did it! 

This was his entire fucking plan? 

You better pay for my door when you inevitably break it open! 

Let them be; it’s been a long time coming. 

“Now, where were we?” You laugh in disbelief at the smug grin in his voice as he gently bites the juncture where your neck and shoulder meet, hands roaming increasingly lower on your body. 

“Eijiro, they’re gonna get anxious that we died or something,” you make to leave his lap and open the door, but his arms catch you before you stand. 

“I’ve waited years for you. They can wait a few more minutes.” 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[garmanarnarr]

Rickorty Week Day 3: Caught

1.2k | secretly married | warning for language

@rickortyweek

“Jesus Christ, Jerry, go get the accountant, would you?” 

Beth’s hands shake around the tax filer. She taps the sheaf of papers against the desk to try and straighten them but it ends up just making things worse, sheets fumbling out into her lap. W-2s. Proof of health insurance. Unemployment papers for Jerry. And that’s just last year’s; she’s pulled their last seven returns, which she keeps in big binders in a filing cabinet in the home office, like they always suggest. 

She can tell her husband is making a face without even looking at him. 

“He said he charged,” Jerry pauses, “what, two thousand flurbos an—”

“FILING ERROR. FILING ERROR,” the big stone head in the middle of the office says, again, thumping the ground for emphasis. 

“I don’t care. Call him,” Beth says. 

“We don’t know the conversion rate!” 

“I know that if we don’t file these correctly beyond a shadow of a doubt, our bodies, and our children’s, are going to get repo’d. That’s what I know, Jerry.” 

“Alright,” Jerry says. “Fine.” Shoulders slumped, he shuffles out of the room. The intergalactic equivalent of the IRS manages to be equally drab as its US counterpart– or maybe worse. Beth had no idea there even was an intergalactic equivalent of the IRS you could be audited by until she was pulled right out of her living room and into space like how cows got sucked up into flying saucers in movies. She’d had a nasty looking gun pointed in her face by an alien and ten minutes to gather ‘the needed tax-related materials’ to ‘rectify a filing error.” She didn’t even have time to finish her glass of wine. 

Now she’s stuck in this office under threat of losing her own bodily autonomy. With a lot of paperwork. And a big stone head in the middle of the floor thundering “FILING ERROR. FILING ERROR.” as it pounds on the ground like the Easter Island equivalent of a Turbotax fuckup. 

She has no clue what’s wrong. Maybe something lingering from the divorce? Unless Jerry has some bank accounts in Turks and Caicos he hasn’t told her about, she’s pretty much fresh out of ideas. She leans over in her chair, twisting her hands in her hair, wishing she had a glass of wine. Perhaps several. 

As she stares at her bare feet (she hadn’t had time to grab shoes) she hears Jerry come into the room, followed by small, light footsteps. When she looks up, a nerdy alien in a polo shirt and khakis is sitting down across the desk from her. He has weakly wavering gray antennae, like everyone else that works here, and a laptop under his arm. 

“Hello, Mrs. Smith. Sounds like there’s a problem you’d like my help with?”

“FILING ERROR. FILING ERROR,” agrees the stone head, loudly. Beth is starting to get a really bad headache and she knows it isn’t from the Cab Sav. 

“I think something is wrong with my previous tax returns? Or something?” she says, pushing her stack of papers towards the accountant, which the accountant eyes, twirling one of his antennae between his fingers. 

“What planet?”

“Uh. Earth?”

“Ah, I see. Earth tends to be a particularly tricky one. You humans can never make up your minds. Makes keeping accurate records a pain.”

“Frankly, sir, I have no fucking clue what’s going on. Pardon my language. This has never been a problem for us before.” 

“Well, Mrs. Smith, if you’re willing to go line by line with me…”

“For the last seven years?”

“I’m paid to be thorough.” 

Beth’s going to pull her hair out. 

“Isn’t there anything you can do to just, like, make it faster? Please.” 

The accountant does some sort of equivalent of pursing his lips that might translate more clearly with different mouth anatomy. 

“Alright. Let me check my system for any inconsistencies.” 

He opens up his laptop and begins typing away. 

Gingerly, Jerry rests a hand on Beth’s back. “See, honey? Look at him go. I knew he was worth it.” 

Her phone rings, inexplicably. But of course, anything is explicable, considering what her father is capable of. She picks up on the second ring. 

“Beth.”

“Dad?” she asks, as if it could be anyone else. She watches as the accountant pulls a small device out of his pants pocket and starts scanning some of the papers with it, seemingly at random. 

“B-Beth, sweetie, tell me something. Are your personal taxes being audited by the intergalactic equivalent of the IRS right now?”

“How do you know?” she asks, instantly, then winces, then hates herself for wincing. This is obviously some Dad shit. There are antennas and strange electronic devices and angry space bureaucrats, which means it has Rick Sanchez written all over it. 

“Ah, jeez, fuck, okay.” Her father sounds oddly panicked, voice strained.  “L-listen, don’t. Don’t tell those squares anything, just wait until I get there–”

The accountant looks up. “I’ve found something, Mrs. Smith.”

“Ooooh, he’s found something, Beth!” Jerry echoes excitedly. 

Beth takes her phone away from her ear and rests it against her shoulder. 

“Yeah?’ 

“You seem to have some kind of error with the status of a family member’s filing.”

“What do you mean?” Faintly, she can hear her father saying Beth? Sweetie? on the other end of the line. 

“Mortimer Smith is listed as a dependent, here.” He points at a line on his laptop screen that’s highlighted in red. 

“Yes, of his mother.” She shoots a look at Jerry, who’s gone quiet.  

“Hmmm,” says the accountant, squinting at his screen. Beth’s stomach feels strange. 

“He’s seventeen. He’s my son.” 

“According to our records, he’s been filing with Rick Sanchez since 2016.”

Two years ago. Beth’s stomach drops. “You mean, he’s like, what, Rick’s dependent now? Like Rick fucking adopted him?”  

Suddenly scenarios of Rick whisking Morty away for real, forever, without her knowing, are flashing through her head. Taking him away on an adventure that he’d never come back from, far away from her. Who knew what he could do. How he could make her sign papers and forget she’d ever done it. Her forehead and armpits start to break out in clammy sweat and she wipes her suddenly damp hands on her pant legs. 

“No, jointly filing,” the accountant says coolly, as if it is nothing. As if it is the most normal thing in the world. “As a spouse.” 

In a flash, a slimy green disk opens in the middle of the room. Beth watches as one long, long, knobby leg steps through, then another. The ratty edge of a lab coat and one gray hand holding a portal gun. 

“First of fucking all,” her father says, as soon as his head bursts through, “let it be known, I didn’t– I didn’t want you to find out like this, Beth . This is pretty m-messed up, even by my standards. Second of all, fuck the government and all the little snitching bitch peons that work for it. Third of all, before you aAAUGGHsk, it’s not, it’s not legal on Earth. So don’t worry about that, sweetie.” 

Beth is very still. 

“CORRECTION ACCEPTED,” says the head, mouth clacking. It had stopped shaking the table with its movement. It seems smug, in fact. 

“See, Beth? Not legal on earth,” Jerry echoes, cheerfully. His face falls.  

“Wait. What?”

[roseyhearts5]

I promise

————————————————————————

summary: Owen and reader work together with the velociraptors. When the two find Claire and her nephews in the forest with the van she happens to attract one of them.

Disclaimer: Readers 18 so like 2 years older than Zach, Zach does not have a girlfriend in this so like he’s nawt cheating guys I swear, cursing, gun use, dinosaurs 😋

————————————————————————

“Hoskins you can’t do this! Once Owen finds out what you’re planning he’s gunna get over here and beat your ass, you want that? Huh?” I confront Hoskins with my hands on my hips. He’s got some crazy plan to use the velociraptors to hunt down the escaped dinosaur.

“Sure he will (name), that is, if he gets here. How d’you know that dinosaur hasn’t gotten him already?” He laughed at me.

“Are you kidding me right now? How are you so sure it has?” Then, a jeep pulled up outside of the velociraptors enclosure. Owen stepped out of the drivers side. “Well would you look at that!” I threw my hands in the air and made my way to Owen, Hoskins trailing behind me. “I-I tried to stop him Owen I did, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” I explained frantically, my voice cracking. I already had a rough time with the people seeing me as someone who could be in control one day, and Hoskins will be my breaking point if I waste anymore time talking to him.

“You’re fine (name). I know what happened.” Owen held a hand up at me and I walked beside Claire. I had only met her a few times but I know she had something going on with my boss.

“Hey Claire, how you doing?” I looked behind me into the jeep and saw two boys. One that looked like he wasn’t even a teen and the other maybe a year or two younger than me. “They yours?” I looked at her.

“Uh- no,” she stifled a laugh, “ they’re my nephews.”

“Oh, alright,” we then turn around and watch Hoskins make his way up to Owen. Owen barely lets him speak before socking him right in the jaw. I let out a gasp and put my hands up to my mouth.

“Get the hell out of here, and stay away from my animals,” Owen spat at him, a stern look painting his face. He valued the raptors health more than his own sometimes.

“Hoskins you wanted this to happen, you son of a bitch,” Claire stepped in next to Owen, I went on the other side of him.

“Oh, Jesus. How many more people have to die before this mission makes sense to you?” Hoskins looked at all 3 of us, a disgusted look on his face.

Barry came over to us, “it’s not a mission, it’s a field test.”

“This is an InGen situation now. Okay, there are going to be cruise ships, that show up here at first light, everybody’s gunna get off this island, you’re gunna watch a news story tomorrow, about how you all saved lives. No, no, no, better yet, how your animals, saved lives.”

It was my turn to step in now, “Hoskins, letting the raptors out of containment would just put the people in even more danger. They have never, EVER, been let out of there. Letting them free would just be a whole other problem.” Barry looked at me, then Owen.

“She’s right. It’s crazy.” Hoskins then tells his people to move it out. Then he turns back around to Owen.

“This is happening, with or without you.” Owen then looks down at me on his right. I have my moment to think about it, then nod my head.

“Owen with you working with it, the raptors will be more under control than if this lunatic were to do it alone,” I pointed at Hoskins.

“Okay, come on then.” He grabbed my arm and we went with Hoskins and Barry to the tent across from the raptors enclosure. Once we were in there, there was a whole bunch of armed men. I was next to Owen as he pointed at a map, “We know that shes in sector 5, this is a game we call hide-and-seek, it’s a scent drill, we’ve done it about a thousand times with these animals. When they get on target, and they will get on target, wait to engage. Velociraptors are pack hunters.” He nods on to me for me to continue.

“They like to herd the animal into a kill zone, that when we can make our move.” Owen smiled at me then gave me a fist bump.

“That’s right, get a clear shot, wait on my command, and give her everything you got. We got one good target gentlemen,” he turned to me, “and lady,” I give him a cheeky look, bowing my head. “Do not shot my raptors. Please.” We then make our way over to the raptors. I handle Charlie. She had always favored me, just like Delta was fond of Barry, and Blue only really listened to Owen. (A/n I dunno if Charlie’s a girl or boy so I’m just making her a girl sorry if she isn’t 😞)

“Easy babydoll, I got you,” I rubbed under her chin, “settle for me,” I then disconnected her head piece. I cooed at her and scratched her chin, she groaned at me in return, “Good girl! Good job Charlie!” I turned to look at Owen with Blue, “Look Owen!” he smiled at me and gave me a thumbs up.

“Good job kid. I’m lucky you work with me. She’s always been easier when you’re around.” I continued to mess around with her when I heard a voice.

“Owen!” I turned around and it was Claire’s nephews. Owen walked over to them. I felt the older of the twos eyes on me and wagged my fingers at him, and his cheeks dusted a pale pink, slowly waving back. “Are they safe?” The little one asked. I had forgot to get their names from Claire. I walk over alongside Owen, and give a face splitting grin at the boys.

“No, they’re not.” Owen looked at him seriously. The older one then spoke up.

“What are their names?” He looked at Owen, then turned to me. Owen looked at me.

“you can tell them.” He nudged my shoulder, making me laugh.

“That’s Charlie,” Owen cut me off.

“She listens to her the most. Which is surprising honestly. She’s always been more aggressive but when she started working here, Charlie changed her whole attitude around.”

“Well obviously,” I shrugged my shoulders, “anyways, that’s Echo, then Delta, and lastly Blue.” I put my hands in my hips then looked at Owen.

“She’s the beta.” Owen said. The little one spoke again.

“who’s the alpha?”

“You’re lookin’ at him, kid.” This caused them to smile at him. I waved at them both as they went to their aunt Claire. The older one looked at me, as if he were in a daze, and slowly waved back. ————————————————————————

Time goes by and Owen and I took the headgear off of the raptors and put them in their personal cages. Owen holds up a pound or so of meat from the Indominous rex.

“Sooo, do I get a gun?” I leaned on the wall next to Charlie’s cage. Owen looked at me.

“Yeah, probably, go ask them to give you a rifle or something.” I push myself off the wall and go out to the men with guns.

I tap one on the shoulder. He turns around and looks me up and down. “Can I get one of those guns? Maybe an AR or something?” He laughs at me.

“A girl like you? How old even are you?”

“18 and old enough to handle a man-eating dinosaur. I’m sure I can take a gun.” He looks surprised at me. “You gunna give me one or what?” He smiles and nods his head at me then leads me to the guns. “Alright, little girl, take your pick.” I pick up an AR and nod at them, putting it on my back. I leave the tent and see Claires oldest nephew looking at me again.

I smirk at him and wave. He’s cute. I peer from side to side and begin striding over to him. “Hey,” I stop infront of him.

“Hey.. what you do is pretty cool. For the raptors and everything.” He fiddles with his finger for a quick second before looking back up at me.

“Thanks, babe! You gunna make sure your aunts safe without Owen here?” I pop my hip out and tilt my head at him.

“yes, yeah for sure.” He leans back against the van, hands in his pocket.

“Alright, stay safe yourself hun.”

“you too,” he mutters quickly, I lift my chin to him and place my hands behind my back, before going to find Barry in front of the jeep. There was a four wheeler then two motorcycles. I get on one of the motorcycle. Owen comes over not long after and gets on the other. He looks up at the new guy, then nods his head. New guy nodded back, then pressed the button to open the cages and the raptors ran out.

“Aw here we go,” I said and rode right after Owen and Barry. The raptors had night vision cameras on the side of their head that I’m sure Claire and corporate could see.

“(Name)! You follow me alright?” Owen called out to me.

“Gotchu!” I raised a thumb at him, and raced quickly after, separating from Barry and the others. We managed to keep up with the raptors, me riding behind them, Owen between the four of them. ————————————————————————

(Quick) Zach’s POV

Gray and I looked through the window from the back to where Aunt Claire sat in the drivers seat. I looked over her shoulder at the I-pad in her hands where she could see Owen and the other girl riding with the raptors. “Your boyfriend’s a badass, and that girl too. What’s her name?” I reached out and pointed at the girl.

“That’s (name). She’s a few years older than you Zach,” Aunt Claire looked at me and raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, alright I was just asking.” I held my hands up in defense, she rolled her eyes at me, smiling, but I quickly looked back to the girl, I now knew as (name).

————————————————————————

(Names) POV

I looked ahead at the raptors and Owen. “They’re slowing down.” Barry said. I looked over at him and started coming to a slow myself. Then Owen stops. He holds his hand up in a fist and the soldiers get out of the cars with their weapons up. I get off my motorcycle and take my AR off my back. The soldiers rush ahead of me, Barry, and Owen and I follow quickly after looking around. We hide behind a fallen tree, me between Barry and Owen. I hold my gun up. The raptors wait. I can hear large steps being made and the Rex eventually travels itself from the trees.

“Holy shit-“ I whisper.

“Something’s wrong. They’re communicating.” Barry says as the Rex and Raptors make small roars at each other.

“I know why they wouldn’t tell us what it’s made of,” Owen says as he stares at the Indominous Rex.

“Why?” I say, and look at him.

“That things part raptor,” my eyes widen and I look away from Owen at the Rex. It starts backing up and the raptors turn around and look at us all.

“What are they doing?” I ask. Owen doesn’t respond. A soldier yells after I ask.

“Engage!” We start firing st the Rex and it backs away. A soldier lets off a rocket(I dunno what else to call it 😭) and the Indominous falls over. Everyone stops shooting. I stand up next to Owen. We keep firing and it ends up running away.

“On your six! Raptors got a new alpha!” Owen yells as we follow after the Indominous. I turn, back and forth looking for the raptors. They could come out at anytime. Then a soldier behind me yells, a raptor on top of him. I run close to Owen, soldiers around us getting attacked by the raptors. Owen and I stay quiet and we see a raptor eating someone. Becuase of the darkness I can’t make out which one it is. It looks up and stares at Owen and I. None of us make a move. Behind the raptor though, a rocket comes through the trees, blowing it up. I go flying back from the impact and shout.

We run towards our bikes and I see that the one I rode in was taken by a soldier. “Owen! My bikes gone,” he looks at me and pats the back of his bike. I climb on and we look ahead. I can hear Barry yelling but I can’t see him, he’s in the log I think. Blue is on top of it, trying to get to Barry. Owen starts revving the bike, distracting blue from Barry. He whistles and rides off, Blue filling after us. I hold on tightly to Owen. I turn around a few times. After one I noticed Blue stopped following us. “Blues not behind us anymore!”

“Alright, keep an eye out for her!” I nod my head and look around for her. I never see her but I also don’t see the other raptors. I eventually hear the raptors. The more we go the closer they sound. Then, I see the bright lights of a van, “isn’t that the van Claire and her nephews where in?”

“I think so.” Owen speeds up behind the van.

“Owen!” I hear 2 people yell. I look from behind and wave at them. They wave back and whoop. Owen rides up next to the drivers side.

“We gotta get indoors! Follow me!” He yells to Claire and drives in front of the van. We stop in front of the big volcano building. I get off the back of the bike and take my AR off my back. I run next to Owen and look behind me at the others. We then go inside the Hammond Creation Lab.

“Control room! That way!” Clair shouts as we make our way there. When we get in I stand in front of with Owen. I hold my gun up as we hear glass breaking in one of the lab stations. “They evacuated the lab.” Claire said. I looked at her and stayed behind as they walked forward so we had weapons in the front and back. When we got in the station, we looked at all the small reptiles. Then a door opened and people came out looking something away. “What are you doing?”

“I’m afraid that above your pay grade, honey.” Hoskins stepped out.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” I roll my eyes.

“Where’s Henry?” Claire asks as Hoskins walks closer to us.

“Dr. Wu works for us,” he smiles at us.

“That’s not a real dinosaur,” the little boy speaks up as he looks at the monitor screen.

“No, it ain’t kid, but somebody’s gotta make sure this company has a future, imagine: that one, a fraction of the size, deadly, intelligent, able to hide from the most advanced military technology. A living weapon, unlike anything we’ve ever seen. See, millions of years of evolution. Nature is the gift-“ he was cut off by a roar. “Oh shit!” A raptor comes out. “Easy, easy boy! Easy,” Hoskins was backed against a wall. I made sure the boys were behind me as Owen backed us up, away from the scene. “We’re- we’re in the same side, right? Right? Easy, easy, I’m on your side,” he held a hand out to the raptor. Slowly he pushed it forward but the raptor went to bite his hand. I gasped and turned to bring the little boy closer to me. Hoskins let out a bloodcurdling scream.

“Go, go,” I said as I pushed the little boy out from the room. We started running towards the center. The raptor is thrown out of the glass room and blocks our way from getting out. Claire turns us around and we go the other way. The little boy taps a hologram to distract the raptor so we can get out. We manage to get outside again but when we get out there Blue stops us, along with Delta. Then we have all three on each side of us.

“so that’s how it is huh?” Owen asks. He puts down his rifle. He holds his hand out to Blue. “Easy.” He undoes the strap along her head, “that’s it,” I smile. She seems to calm down. I nudge the older boy.

“Think you can do that?” I smile. He skates his head.

“No ma’am.” This caused me to laugh. Then the Indominous comes roaring from behind Blue. Blue looks back at Owen, away from the Indominous and starts chittering, almost as if she were talking to him. She then turns and roars at the Indominous. She roars back, much louder. She slams Blue away and Blue slams against a building. Owen starts backing us up and I grab into the older ones arm. He looks at me l, but quickly looks back ahead. Delta and Echo start roaring at the Indominous. Owen whistles and the raptors start running at the Indominous. They hop on top of her and while they distract her we run around them. Claire and her nephews climb into the window of an item shop while Owen and I stay out to shoot at the Indominous. As I reload my gun I turn around and see Claire running. I look at Owen, who sees her as well. Owen runs towards the boys in the item shop. I run right after him and hop inside. Owen shushes the boys while I reload just in case.

I look up and see the Indominous. She starts slamming against the item shop and breaks one of her arms in, clawing at the little boy. I shoot at its arm while the others go against a wall. It claws at the others and I run out of bullets, “Shit!” One of its claws gets ahold in the little boy. The older one reaches over and uncles his fanny pack and it the claw releases from the little boy. I crawl over to him. “Are you ok? Did it cut you anywhere? What’s your name?” I hold his face, and wipe away his tears.

“Gray, I-I’m okay.” I hics as he speaks.

“Ok, I’m (name). I’m so sorry that happened I promise I’ll try my best to prevent anything from happening to you again alright?” He nods his head. I look at the older one.

“And what’s your name?”

“Zach.” He says.

“Zach. Okay Zach. Great job. I saw you unclip his fanny pack.” I tap his leg. I look at Owen. He nods. He knew I was better at dealing with emotions than him. Then a red flare hits against the Indominous. I look outside the window of the shop. “It’s Claire! She just brought a whole ass T-Rex here!” I said laughing. Owen, Gray, and Zach come up next to me to look out the window. They start fighting and the Indominous slams the T-Rex around. She grabs the T-Rex’s head and slams it into the shop we were in. I hold onto Gray and Owen holds onto Zach. The T-Rex roars into the shop. And bites at us. I let go of Gray and look over at Claire.

“Run!” She shouts at us.

“Go, go, go!” Owen push’s us all out of the shop and we run to Claire. The Indominous holds the T-Rex down and is about to bite its neck before we hear another roar. it was blue. She jumped onto the back of the Indominous and saved enough time for the T-Rex to get up and but the Indominous, ramming it into the building. We ran into another building, the Dino’s fighting close to us. As we run through, the T-Rex and Blue seem to be dominating the Indominous. They get close to the mosasaurus’ enclosure and it flies up out of the water, biting the Indominous, dragging it underwater.

“Oh, shit!” The T-Rex and Bkue remain, staring at each other. We walk out from behind the building and Blue looks at Owen. He shakes his head, and she runs after the T-Rex. We walk out and look around. I walk next to Zach.

“oh, wow.” He says. I look up at him and reach for his arm.

“You alright?” I ask.

“I’m alive,” he chuckled. I smiled up at him.

“Yeah.” I rub his arm then let go, looking at his forehead. I lift his hair up a little bit, “just a little cut right there,” I brush over it and he holds my arm lightly. “Alright I’ll see you later alright?” I then walk over to Owen.

————————————————————————

Claire took Zach and Gray to the shelter where all the visitors were staying. Owen and I worked around the shelter, making sure people got what they needed, be it water, food, bandages, etc. in the morning, Zach and Grays parents showed up. I was with Owen and we were working with an old woman when he looked over at Claire. I noticed him looking. “Let’s go over there,” I say, “I’m sure Zach and Grays parents wanna meet the hero that helped protect their kids the whole night,” I punch his arm lightly.

“Alright, come on,” we head over to their cot. Owen stays behind with Claire and they talk while I go get to Zach and Grays cots.

“Hey,” I say, their parents looking at me. Gray stood up and hugged me tightly.

“(Name)! Mom, dad, this is (name) she helped protect us with Owen and Aunt Claire yesterday. She’s also the one that helped us patch up our injuries,” Gray told them as he continued to hug me. I laughed and looked at Zach

“I didn’t do to much,” I rubbed Grays back and he let go of me.

“Oh my goodness, I can’t thank you enough just for being there with them,” their mom came over and embraced me in a hug, their dad following suit. When they let go I sat next to Zach.

“Hey babe,” I rested my arm on his shoulder.

“Hey (name), uh can I talk to you, somewhere else?” I look up at him.

“yeah sure come on,” we went to a more private place so we could talk. “What’s up?”

“(Name)… I think you’re really cool and I wanna get to know you more so could I uh- could I get your number?” he held my hand while he spoke softly rubbing it. I smiled and bit my lip.

“Yeah sure. I’ll write it down for you.” I pulled out my mini notebook from my shorts and the pen I always have attached to it. I wrote my number and my name down then tore it off and handed it to him. I grabbed his shoulders and stood on my tiptoes giving him a kiss on his cheek. “Bye Zach. Call me when you get the chance alright?” I waved bye to him as he was left with a smitten smile on his face. ————————————————————————

Hi everyone! This took me a day or so cuz like I had to rewatch the movie for it to make more sense like what was happening I was thinking abt a part 2 but idk how to so if yall do want a part to lmk 😊😊😊💕

[ofsappho]

Summertime Sadness (part 3)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort

Today: Ghost brings you a pack of cigarettes Ten years ago: You introduce yourself to Simon

Tags under read more

Tags: mental illness, suicidal ideation, suicide attempts, self harm, child abuse, parent abandonment, drug addiction/withdrawal, Ghost's tragic backstory. unedited.

-

TODAY

Ghost POV

On his way out, Ghost asks one of the nurses about bringing you a pack of cigarettes.

The nurse’s forehead wrinkles with a frown. “Only if they’re sealed and unopened. Opened boxes, bottles, or containers of any kind are prohibited,” She says slowly, like he’s a fucking idiot.

“Why?”

She tilts her head to the side to look at him from a different angle. “It’s a safety risk. People will try to smuggle in substances or weapons. We’ve seen it all.” Ghost is almost offended she thinks he’d do that or at the implication that you would ask him to. You’re not like that. You’re good and kind, you couldn’t even hurt a fly. You always have been.

But he doesn’t know what you smoke. He doesn’t really know anything about you now.

So Ghost guesses and asks the man at the gas station a couple blocks away for a pack of Marlboro Reds.

That’s what he likes. You’ll have to deal. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Ghost finds his way to some sort of run-down motel near the hospital. In a major metropolitan area like this, he has infinite choices. He picks the cheapest. All he needs is a bed and a shower, and this place has both of those things. Ghost tells himself that it’s only temporary. There’s no need for comfort when he’ll be gone in a week, maybe two at most.

He lays on the bed, listens to the water drip from the leaky bathroom faucet, and tells himself he’ll try again tomorrow.

When Ghost arrives at the front desk the next day, the nurse tells him you’re in the garden, to take the elevator to the second floor and follow the signs. Then the security guards pat him down and check the cigarettes. Even though it felt like walking around naked in front of a thousand people, Ghost had the good sense to leave his knives in the hotel room. They find nothing.

After they clear him, he follows the nurse’s directions.

Ghost finds you contemplating a sad-looking fountain in the middle of a garden on the second floor. The plants are well kept but overly-manicured, as clinical as the rest of this place.

You have company. A nurse sits a few meters away, watching you like a hawk.

Ghost awkwardly sits on the bench across from you with the feeling that he’s somehow intruding, that if he left you alone a little longer, he might come back to a more whole, happier version of you.

“Thought I told you to fuck off,” You say through a face more blank than a fresh sheet of paper. “Cigarettes? For me? You shouldn’t have.” The first sign of life Ghost sees in your eyes is when he tosses you the pack and a lighter.

He doesn’t like being surveilled. Not at all. “What’s with the…” Ghost reaches for his mask out of instinct, carefully checking the edges and making sure they lay flat to cover as much as possible.

Your hands tremble as you light up a cigarette. He has to resist the urge to take the lighter from you and do it himself.

When you sit back to take a drag, Ghost averts his eyes from the bandages peeking out of the sleeves of your hospital gown. “The tail? They’re just making sure I don’t try to kill myself again. It’s annoying as fuck. I wish they’d just leave me alone, but that’s what I get.” Instead, he looks at the long, perfect line of your throat as you blow out smoke.

“What’s with the mask?” Loose ash flies as you gesture towards the balaclava.

“I joined the Air Service,” Ghost mutters. He thought the skull mask would make him feel more together, more in control today. It hasn’t.

For the first time, he sees the faintest hint of a real smile tug at the corners of your lips. “Like you always said you would. I was wondering what had happened to you.”

Your face falls.

“Sorry about your mom, by the way. And your brother. I heard.”

Ah.

“You did?” The last time Ghost was there, he’d wondered about the fresh flowers on their graves.

He thought the bouquets had been left by some Good Samaritan trying to curry favor with a god he didn’t believe in, a god that wasn’t there when his family was murdered.

It’s both better and worse to know it was you.

You grab another cigarette the instant you finish your first. “Yeah I- fuck, this is stupid. I kept tabs to see if you were ever… coming back.” Your chaperone nurse frowns and starts to open her mouth, probably about the chain smoking, but you cut her an impressively-dirty glare and she sits down to mind her business.

Ghost closes his eyes. “That is stupid.” You should have forgotten him. He wanted you to move on, meet someone else, and have the kind of life that would forever be out of reach for him.

“Don’t need to shove it in my face. I have a therapist for that. Multiple, actually.”

“Fat load of good they’ve done you.”

He watches your face close off. “It’d be less painful for everyone if they would just let me die, but I guess that goes against some sort of law,” You tell him with the kind of distant smile that shows you’re half-joking, half-serious.

“For what it’s worth, Ghost, I wish I had died this time. I never meant to drag you back into my shit. I’m sorry.”

This time?

How many times have there been?

Ghost isn’t sure he wants to know.

Because if he knows, he’s going to give a fuck. You make it impossible for him to not care. This is exactly why he pushed you away in the first place.

“You’re sorry for not dying?”

You nod. “Yeah.” You’re cold and resolved and completely serious.

Some of the smoke goes up your nose and you cough sharply, your lungs thick with… something. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to come back. Next time, I’ll get it right.” Even the golden sunlight and greenery can’t make you look healthy. A stray gust of wind could knock you over and your hands won’t stop shaking. 

You’re hiding it poorly.

“What if I didn’t want you to die?” The truth is that Ghost can’t imagine a world without you. You’re the one that belongs here, not him.

You turn to look at him.

Your eyes are clear and your hands steady with rage put the cigarette out on the bench next to you.

“I’d tell you that you, of all people, should fucking understand. This is the end of the road for me. You know what it’s like.”

You’re really asking Ghost if he remembers the very first time you spoke to each other. The tree. The black eye from one of the other, meaner kids darkening on his face. He’d won that fight, but it didn’t feel like it. More than anything, he’d felt like his father’s son and how afraid he was that that was all he’d ever be.

He should go. There’s no reason for him to sit here and take this, to listen to your fucking insane, psychotic, suicidal rambles. Bullshit. You’re talking nothing but bullshit.

“And then you’d feel like a selfish asshole for asking me to live.”

As Ghost gets up to leave, you keep talking.

“You were right from the beginning, Simon. You’ve always been right. I’m a danger to myself. My mother never came back. The things people have done to me, and I just let them-“ Tears crush your voice into a sound like shattered glass fragments, as weak as it is sharp.

He stops in his tracks.

“And I deserved it. I was never destined for more. Not like you. You’ve done so well for yourself. I’m proud of you,” You say, unknowingly echoing one of the last things Simon’s mother ever said.

Ghost has taken bullets less painful. Water boarding sounds like a fucking picnic right about now.

He can’t even convince himself that you’re lying out of spite. You mean every word. After everything he’s done to the people who loved him, you’re still proud of him.

“Thank you for being honest with me about myself. I appreciated it.” Your smile is lovely, transforming you into a carefree young girl for a moment. Ghost might be able to appreciate the sight more if not for the calm, resigned way you talk about death.

He’s old friends with Death. He wields it like he was born to do so, he knows how it smells and looks. He knows what someone looks like right before they give up and bleed out in a Middle-Eastern desert or succumb to hypothermia in the Siberian tundra.

Ghost can see the rot under your skin. You’re covered in it.

Some part of him hates you for not going quietly or disappearing into thin air.

He doesn’t want you to die. “I was wrong.”

“Look at you. Still the hero, the good guy.”

“No, listen to me-“

“It’s alright, Simon. Really. No more lies.”

“It’s the truth. Fuck. Fuck. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Ghost remembers the good things, too. It was easier to forget about them, to paint the whole of his life in shades of tar black and set fire to the remaining pieces of light. It was holding him back. You were holding him back.

What feels like a lifetime ago, he pointed out constellations to you in the middle of the night and your eyes filled with awe.

“Didn’t you?” You ask with wisps of pity in your voice.

-

10 YEARS AGO

Reader POV

You find your soon-to-be new friend hiding in a tree, lazily smoking a cigarette as his legs dangle over a branch. “Hi,” You call out.

He whips his head around and fixes you with a glare so strong that you have to stifle a small, instinctive ‘eep’ noise. The rather-impressive black eye does nothing to take away from how… pretty he is.

You clasp your hands behind your back so he can’t see you fiddle with your nail beds and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.

“Fuck d’you want?” He barks in a rough, accented voice. The syllables slur together; maybe he talks like that all the time, or maybe his swollen split lip is getting in the way.

Shit. You rock again and dig your nails into your palms to try and steady yourself. “Nothing. I- nothing.” It’s fine. You’re fine. He’s just a boy. An older boy who fucked up another guy in the program and ran out of the building before the nurses could stop him, all angry fists and damnably kind eyes.

“Go away.” His scowl deepens when you straighten up and dig your heels into the dirt.

You pull out the napkins you stuffed in the pocket of your jeans before you went looking for him. “Here. For your nose.” It’s bleeding pretty bad, running over his white teeth and everything. “You got him good.”

After a long moment of contemplation wherein he tries to incinerate you with the power of his frown and fails, he reluctantly takes the tissues. “You saw?” He grumbles.

Yeah, you saw. Who could miss it? He tackled the other boy during one of the mandatory group therapy sessions. It was creative writing today, which you normally enjoy. Instead, everyone watched as the two of them beat the shit out of each other until the security guards bodily separated them.

The words tumble from your mouth in a rush. “James deserved it. He’s a fucking asshole. He tries to look down my shirt all the time, and he broke all of the nice pencils my dad brought me so now I have to use the shitty ones the nurses provide because I wouldn’t keep my mouth shut. One time he… touched me, you know? Over my clothes. But still. Wow. You were like… a superhero,” You finish quickly, blushing a little from embarrassment.

Everyone says you talk too much. He probably doesn’t care about your stuff. You shouldn’t have said anything.

He raises a blonde eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“You’re, like, really cool,” You say with a nod.

The boy’s grimace holds fast. “Hmph.” It could be a trick of the light, but his sharp, almond-shaped eyes look slightly less cruel, more of a gentle honey brown than a shadow black.

A silvery scar shines on his jaw as he turns away to work on another cigarette.

The acrid smoke is horrible for your lungs and he shouldn’t pick up such a bad habit. But you’ll save the lecture for another day when he’s less mad. And when you actually know his name.

You offer up your own first. “What’s your name?” You finally ask.

“Simon. M’ name is Simon.” Simon looks at you for a long, quiet moment, with no sounds other than the wind rustling the leaves hiding the two of you from the sun.

He sees you. Not just the model patient or dutiful daughter you are to everyone else. A thrill runs down your spine, enough to make you ignore how his eyes run over your smile - like he’s examining a pinned butterfly in a glass case.

“I’ll remember that.” When you stretch your hand out, Simon shakes it.

-

Tagging:

@devcica @igotmajordaddyissues @almightywdm @copiasratscheese @nerdyreaderpapi @schmelscorner @johfaam0

@babygirl-panda19 @illyanam1011 @q8852p @loser-alert @vantae-tea @alexisv15 @chessecakelover @allaboutirem0 @darling006 @aloraaaxcrystalzx @berryjuicyy @desideriumlove

[multi-lefaiye]

sunbringer's song preview: elsewhere

hi i wanted to share a preview for sunbringer's song. teehee.

this is a bit from the end of the prologue--very light on actual spoilers for the game, but hints heavily at things to come. this also highlights three characters that aren't eden, but who will be important to varying degrees to the ongoing storyline.

tagging (tentative sunbringer's song taglist form?? idk just tagging people i think would wanna read this rn): @skitzo-kero @anexor @chaieyestea @vacantgodling @chaieyestea

@paradoxspir1t @moonflowerrss @invaderskoodge @albatris @void-botanist

--

Elsewhere, the nightwarden stands in her watchtower, her eyes scanning the map before her for the hundredth time.

Below her, the sound of her soldiers celebrating echoes through the still evening air, slurring vulgar drinking songs and banging on their drums.

It’s grating, their incessant hedonism, but by now, she’s able to tune them out. They may be disgusting and foolish, far beneath a warrior of her standing, but she can tolerate them as long as they remain useful, as long as they remain loyal. The nightwarden doesn’t need enlightened minds, only willing bodies.

In the coming days, the goblin horde she commands will march again, conquering thousands more in Her name. Until then, let them revel in their filth.

The nightwarden is brought out of her musings by a loud, booming thunderclap, and she startles briefly as she looks up at the sky. Rather than a storm, however, she sees a ball of fire plummeting towards the ground. She watches as it passes overhead, narrowing her eyes as she listens to the roaring fire and screams above. Something about the shape is familiar… Almost as if-

Just as soon as her mind begins to wander, she comes back to herself, wrenching her gaze from the sky and down to her map. A heartbeat passes, and she realizes that she’s gripping the parchment tightly enough to tear. She loosens her grip, ever so slightly, and lets out a quiet breath.

She has work to do.

-

Elsewhere still, a pale tiefling stands on a rocky ridge, peering through a telescope and jotting notes in her journal. She has a tiny, relaxed smile on her face, idly sketching the constellations above her. Her mother was right, loath as she is to admit it--they are far, far more beautiful in person than in a textbook.

At the thought of her mother, her hand stills, pencil still pressed to the page. She takes a breath, her shoulders slumping, and shakes her head.

No need to dwell on the past.

A sudden thunderclap catches her attention, and she turns her head towards the east, dark eyes widening and her mouth falling slightly open. Just over the horizon, she sees a ball of fire manifest and tumble through the sky, bigger than any comet she’s ever seen. Her little smile grows into a full-fledged grin, and she nearly breaks the lead on her pencil as she continues her sketching.

As she traces the meteor’s trajectory and mentally calculates its landing site, the breeze picks up, ruffling her blue nightshirt and long, silver hair. A distant smell wafts past her nose, nearly imperceptible were it not for the way it burns her skin. Sulfur.

Abruptly, the tiefling’s smile falls, and her drawing hand freezes. It takes her a long moment to start moving again, turning to pack away her journal and telescope for the night. Her hands shake, near imperceptibly, as she does.

That’s enough for one night, she thinks.

--

And yet elsewhere still, a githyanki knight lands his dragon atop a snowy mountainside. The creature has only just touched the ground when its rider is dismounting, cursing through shuddering breaths as he puts a hand to his side. Even with his armor and years of training his body, he wasn’t able to escape the battle unscathed, left with a sluggishly bleeding gash just under his ribs.

It’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. Hells, he’s had far worse injuries before--his instructor had been unforgiving, unyielding, uncaring for those who were anything less than perfect warriors. But today’s failure is just added salt in the wound. He’d been so close, and yet once again the comet had slipped through his grasp.

If the knight were a less determined man, less devoted to his cause, he would have gone mad long ago. As it stands, however, he knows he must persist.

He lets out a long, slow breath and clenches his fist, willing himself to push through the pain. Behind him, the dragon lets out a quiet huff, and he turns his attention to the creature. The dragon’s golden eyes shine in the night, watching him with a solemn understanding. Despite himself, the knight smiles as he lifts a hand and places it on the dragon’s muzzle, the beast leaning into his touch with a gravelly purr.

They both know they have more work to do come morning. There is no time to waste. The knight squares his shoulders, and he sees the dragon mirror his posture.

“Once more, my friend,” he murmurs. “We must return to the search.” The dragon clicks its tongue in agreement. They can only rest when their work is done, even if that day never comes.

[cartelheir]

@sharpsuite : It’s strange. Chishiya doesn’t have guests over ; his life reflects his own emptiness. He certainly doesn’t have ones that bring danger snapping at their heels with the threat of a cartel. It’s been a new but not unpleasant experience despite the undercurrent of danger. It’s actually been rather nice; it soothes something that’s changed since the borderlands. Maybe it’s part of why he deviates from the trudge back home for a few minutes. There’s something he needs to do. It’s only about ten minutes later than usual when he’s back at his place, unlocking the front door. He closes it behind him, locks it, and walks over to set a clothing bag on the table in front of Pat. “ I think I owe you this. “ ( And some habits still linger, his hands are in his pockets as usual and he’s watching. ) Maybe it’s not the typical way to give gifts but Chishiya hasn’t actually given a gift to anyone outside of polite behavior in years. Ever, really. Nearly wrapped inside is the Dior dress he remembers her tearing without hesitation when he was dying. And he doesn’t really owe it, because nothing from the borderlands came with them. He doesn’t even have his hoodie he loved. But it’s what you did for people that MATTERED, right? He’s trying to learn. And the price hadn’t mattered with his salary. “ You seemed to like it before. “ Before you ruined it to try to save me. Maybe it can have BETTER memories now. “ But if you don’t, I also have the receipt so if there’s another you’re prefer, just let me know. “ He shrugs, casual, and it’s just him trying to hide under his mask in the face of something he’s uncertain if he’s doing right or not. ( for when she comes to him to escape 🥺 he's had this thought and debated it so - sending before he changes his mind)

ten minutes are enough for her to briefly wonder if he's dead. if maybe someone back home somehow found out she's hiding out here, and rather than coming straight for her they decided to hit her where it hurts: by punishing the one person who cared ━ and was insane enough ━ to give her shelter. she refrains from sending him a worried text, aware on some level that she's just being overly paranoid.

and sure enough, he's back in just a few minutes. the sight of a shopping bag over the table puzzles her, and she's quick to get up and walk to it like a cat happily spotting a treat. the easiest way to her heart has always been gifts. she peeks inside, and the sight of a familiar off-white shade instantly makes her expression shift into something else; surprise, realization. " oh. " somehow, she knows what it is before she even pulls it out of the bag, unfolding it to reveal the same dress that had been torn to shreds then stained red with his blood. she looks at chishiya, standing there casual as usual, like this isn't the kindest thing anyone's ever done for her in years.

" you didn't have to. " he's already offering her a place to stay, at great risk to his own safety. pat hadn't checked the price tag on his dress when she took it from a boutique in the borderlands, but she's been wearing dior for a long time and she knows that their dresses are rarely cheaper than four, five thousand dollars. " no, i love it, " she's quick to say as he gives her the option to give it back and get another one. the smile on her lips is the kind that lights up her entire face, almost child-like, with none of her usual sarcasm or restraint.

" thank you. for... " she vaguely gestures around; to the dress, the apartment around them, " for everything. " she wants to hug him so badly, but that's still not completely familiar territory, and she doesn't want to make him feel uncomfortable. their eyes meet again and there's such an easy affection between them that it almost feels like the hug she wanted, anyway. " you're kind too, you know. "

[aprillikesthings]

okay okay okay I have time for one episode tonight

s5 ep6 taking control

The ship is malfunctioning, Entrapta is working on it with Wrong Hordak's help

poor Adora

(also I did reread Nate's fic last night and like, I know teeechnically it's not canon because it's not in the show and I don't think he ever officially admitted it was his fic? but also it is canon. And boy does it make this sorta light-hearted scene more serious.)

OH GOD I'M DYING

Bow: "How did you turn into She-Ra without the sword?"

GIRLY like yes obviously it's wild that you can do it without the sword, but ALSO you can admit to them that it was because you were that upset about Catra.

Like the people who are suddenly able to lift a car because their loved one is trapped under it.

...."come out"

heh

oh see that's easy you just have to make Adora think Catra is almost dead

Glimmer: "The important thing is she was there when your friends needed her!"

He's not...wrong...

Also Horde Prime knows where they are, dun dun dunnnnn, roll intro (which hasn't changed yet but I'm watching it)

poor bb

yeah that's horrifying

oh right this part is literally in Nate's fic

Adora keeps coming back to check on her, and Catra feigns sleep every time. She doesn’t touch the water bottle even though her dry throat aches, because then Adora would know that she had been awake. But eventually, she slips into shallow dreams again — the green fluid, Prime’s smirk, the pain, his voice — and that’s when Adora happens to check in on her again. At the sound of the door Catra sits bolt upright, her heart pounding out of her chest and a terrified scream bursting from her mouth before she can choke it down. And just like that, her cover’s blown. And Adora’s looking at her with that same stupid, hopeful look, like Catra hasn’t spent years trying to burn her and everything she loved. And she can’t stand it.

So Catra does what she always does. She retreats behind her walls, lashes out, needles Adora where she knows it stings the most. It’s what she is. She’s an animal, nothing more than base instincts and rotten heart, just as everyone has always said she was. She’s poison, she’s fire, she’s broken glass, and all she knows how to do is hurt and be hurt in turn.

okay this reminds me of this post tho

okay back to serious

the line delivery here is so good but also 😭

Catra's split-second look of disbelief before it turns back to hard anger, aaugh

ppl do not (usually) change over night

WAHHHH

Adora leaves, angry, and something in Catra, some small childish piece that somehow hasn’t been completely stamped out, wants to call after her, wants to run after her into the bright hallway. She doesn’t. She stays in the dark. She doesn’t know how to leave it.

*cries*

Anyway back on Etheria, they're playing games to keep Frosta entertained and also AN ON SCREEN LESBIAN KISS

Apparently it was the combination of the previous episode and this one that made the first people to watch this season realize "oh we're going to get an actual catradora kiss. on screen. aren't we."

(I remember the day before Netflix dropped the episodes, with everyone I knew on social media basically doing a "will they or won't they." I'm Fandom Old and just kept reminding myself that if they didn't get a kiss or a love confession it was either for good story reasons (Catra was still doing bad shit at the end of s4!) or because the showrunners were forbidden from doing it. But man I was online intentionally spoiling myself as soon as I could. I HAD TO KNOW, but Daci and I watched it like a day later)

Okay so this is part of why I struggle to get how multiple years passed as the show goes on--why is Frosta still like. Eleven.

Glimmer is holding up a box that looks like the ancient sugar Madame Razz used to make pie. Which was also on this ship now that I think about it? That's. Thousand-year-old sugar.

But also

Adora: "After everything we've been through she's still a stubborn brat!!" Glimmer: "This is Catra we're talking about. Did you think she was just instantly going to become a totally different person?"

yeah Adora thought Catra would be grateful and like....lol no

that apron says "kiss the cook" unless someone convinces me otherwise

Also the Horde is following them

awwww another little she-ra doll :( anyway everyone's being weird and creepy

flying through an asteroid field is Entrapta's idea of a great time

BUT HORDE'S SHIPS FOUND THEM and getting banged around made Catra have flashes D:

They've been tracing Catra's neck chip

okay but that's not actually Catra's fault

Yeah I remember this part of the plot 😬

YUP

But yeah Adora drags Entrapta into Catra's room and she does NOT react well, which uhhhh makes sense given her and Entrapta's last interaction

but yeah the phrase "cornered animal" comes to mind

a cat at the vet's office with a "sedate first" sticker on her file

Entrapta's confusion is so genuine. She also sounds a little hurt tbh

i mean yeah that about covers it

well now I'm thinking of a fic I've read

AND I'VE HIT THE IMAGE LIMIT what timing lol okay hold on

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

Sup bitches! Guess who made a confession fic for Arcane egg, Golden butter, and Shadow milk. Me! First things first @revisitingfandoms helped me come up with the gifts, but also write the letters! Check them out!

Anyways tell me what you think of the fic!

—————————————————————————————-

He sits at a desk within a well ferbished room decorated in a variety of blues, purples, magentas, and some cyans. Within his vice tight grip is a letter, the packaging is tossed aside and now sits next to a mechanical flower. The flower shifts from a inky yet iridescent black to various shades of blue on each of the petals. The stem is a shining light silver that glints within the light, both petals and stem hold an intricate design of swirls and eyes. The most curious thing about the flower though is the soft music emminating from it. Its a playful tune, one might here this type of song playing at a carnival or maybe theater.

Shadow milk cookie keeps rereading the letter, over and over his eyes linger on each word. The familiar sent of sweet sugars and of metal almost overwhelm him more than the actual words. He can’t believe, he just can’t. Arcane sent him a confession letter, and such a sincere one to! They might say they were no good with words, but this makes his heart beat incredibly fast. It’s such a simple letter but that may be why it’s so effective, in its simple nature it’s incredibly sincere and heartfelt.

It reads…

(Dear Moonie,

It's been a long run between us, huh? So many years between us, from the old days on my island and your tower to where we are today. I missed you for so many years when you were taken. I can’t count the amount I would just sit back and wish that you were here by my side. I remember wanting at one point wanting to just summon you to tell me what happened and yet- I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Anytime I thought about it- I’d look back on the false letter the witches sent thinking that this was what you wanted.

I betrayed my emotions hundreds of times- always thinking ‘he wanted to be alone, this what he wants’. Part of me can only look back at how foolish I was. Did I not know you for hundreds of years? Did I not visit and learn beside you for decades? Perhaps it was my assumption and belief of you being under the influence of the corruption. I only realize now that was something that doomed me in the end.

Moonie Shadow Milk, I have come to realize one thing. I cannot hide the pains I’ve gained over the years, I should not hide my pains because in the hide they will only come back to hurt myself and those who care for me.  

Shadow Milk, I did not tell you everything that day. I left a few secrets to myself and I tell you now because I cannot bring myself to say it in person.

Shadow Milk Cookie, I love you. It's a realization that hasn’t come to me easily, much less immediately.

I realized only after you were sealed. Perhaps that's what originally broke my heart- I remember Golden Butter telling me about the kiss you shared between her and you. Part of me had resigned to never holding your heart- until you told me those words that day. I won’t hesitate here and now. Shadow Milk I love you. 

Yours truly, 

Sunny.)

His eyes keep going back to the words “I love you”, he feels just a little light headed and his face can’t help but deepen in color. He forces himself to put down the letter and tenderly picks up the mechanical gift, he holds it like it’s the most valuable thing he owns and would ever own. As the soft music plays his mind wonders back to letter, has his dear Sunny really felt this way for that long. For thousands of years, even though he and the rest were sealed? Even though they thought his heart belonged to another… even when the two people she liked we’re interested in each other and not her. 

That sounds like torture! Complete and other torture! Shadow milk grips his hair tightly with one hand, the other still holds the precious flower. He quickly hops out of his chair which almost knocks it over, and begins to rapidly pace back and forth in the room. Holding those types of feelings with that intensity within yourself for that long! That sounds awful! So very awful! How, why did she do that to herself! Not even confessing to just get those feelings out, but instead keeping them buried! Why he ask’s himself… he knows why, or at least her their reasoning why. 

She thought that if she did confess her feelings that they wouldn’t only not be reciprocated, but she thought she’d loose both oh her closest friends. Which offends him, it offends him greatly! Do they think so little of their friendship that they think he’d just leave, he’s their blinding BEST-FRIEND! And another thing! They were just gonna let themselves suffer, which is unacceptable! He can’t help it when he stamps his foot on the ground in frustration. 

That big depressed dumb dumb! Well he won’t stand for it, he needs to find Golden butter and talk to her about her feelings. Because of the mention of her in his letter Arcane must’ve sent her one to! He quickly bounds towards the door and flings it open with haste. Those who are tempted to stop him to ask questions on the reconstruction of the Blueberry academy quickly decided against it, for he had an intense look in his eyes. As if he were a predator on the hunt, they feel bad for whoever earned his ire.

….Indeed. Poor Arcane egg cookie, poor Arcane egg cookie  indeed.

Luckily for Shadow milk cookie Golden butter cookie is in the same kind of predicament he was in. Golden butter recently decided to take a break from her travels, as a result she’s in her toy box relaxing in her room… well she was relaxing. Right now she was sitting on the edge of her bed with a letter in a tight grip, with wide eyes scanning the letter. For her usual easy expression with minimal reactions is now very, very expressive. 

The letter that’s gotten such a reaction reads…

(Dear Starlight,

A Lot has happened over these thousands of years and there's quite a bit I feel I should say. The question is how I put it into words.

For the longest time I’ve had feelings for Shadow Milk and yet- You loved him. Back then I was more than content to let you two be with each other even at my own expense. You two made each so happy and I couldn’t…

I couldn’t bring myself to ruin that. Yet over time something inside me grew- I didn’t realize it right away.

It was only after you were asleep that I realized I was in love with you. I remember silently cursing fate, I remember more than expecting for my own heart to break once again. 

Yet in the aftermath of everything, I want to defy that so-called fate I thought of- I want to chance this, I want to so badly.

Starlight I am in love with you, I am so very much in love with you and shadow Milk- more than anything. 

Sincerely yours,

Sunny)

As Golden butter nervously twirls a strand of her golden hair, to her side on her bedside table a small mechanical flower can be seen. The flowers petals are various shades of yellow that fade to white tips, the stem is a darker gold-brass that’s cool to the touch. It’s center is a brown metallic button, the most spectacular thing about it though is when it’s in light. For when that happens the white tips of the petals refract the light creating a soft multicolor iridescent light. It seems Arcane is truly after the artists heart.

And it seems Arcane may have seized it, for Golden butter pulls the letter to her chest as if it were one of her precious dolls. A faint blush can be seen on her face as she can’t help but let out a small giddy giggle as she kicks her feet slightly. After a long moment as she collects her emotions she grabs the metal flower, she can now hear a faint melody playing. It’s as soothing as a lullaby, and so Golden puts the flower in her beret. It’s a perfect match!

When she first read the confession she was so sure she saw Arcane as only a close friend, but afterwards she can’t be sure that’s true anymore. For her heart started to beat oh so fast after the simple words “I love you”. After the realization Golden can’t help but giggle slightly, for if she said that to Arcane they would’ve teased “ Damn. Cant believe historians will remember us as the closest of friends~.”

For as quiet as they may be, they are quite lively, witty even. That’s probably one of the reasons why her and Shadow milk got along so well… as yes Shadow milk. They liked Shadow milk, oh god she confessed her feelings about Shadow milk to them. Is that- is that why they seemed slightly off? No wonder, of course they would be slightly different after that! You confessed to not only liking their crush, but you were also one of their crushes.

As Golden butters thoughts continue to run wild at that realization a soft ping could be heard. She sits still for a moment before searching for her communication device, Arcane made one for all of them do they can stay in touch. When she finally finds it another ping rings out, she quickly answers.

“U-um yes? How may I help you-“

“Hey Goldie! Did you happen to say- get a well worded confession from our dear Sunny!” While his voice might hold a lively conviction to it, his actual mood seems to be intense. Maybe slightly irritated?

“Oh yes I did, why are you asking-“

“Great, now I need you to be as plain as possible, mkay? Do you have feelings for Sunny.” He… was being uncharacteristically serious.

“I-… yes. Yes I do… do you?”

“Of course I do, just as much as I love you.” That admittance of feeling makes Golden’s heart beat and stutter. “So…”

“Sooo..?”

“Cmon now Goldie! If we both like them, we like each other, and they like us both why not take a chance!! Or is the doll maker to afraid to loose control, hmm~” for as much as she wanted to snap back at him, he was right in a sense…even if he was being a slight jerk about it. She was always withdrawn allowing herself to drown in her doubt, to never believe and take a chance.

“Yeah… ok I’m willing to give it a try.” She said firmly, resolute in her actions.

“Good~! Now I’m on my way to pick you up because we have a very silly, and I mean silly silly egg to cheer up!”

“Cheer up? Last time I checked they were doing much better. Why did something happen??”

“Not quite my dear, while it is true that she’s gotten better. We both know her, we know how much of a nervous mess they get when dealing with uncertainties. Especially when it’s stuff, or in this case people she cares about. Are we really gonna let our dead Sunny burn themselves out in worry until they fizzle out like a dying star?”

“No, when are you getting here”

“Oh theirs the conviction~ I’ll be three minutes.”

…..

Arcane egg sits quietly within a gazebo near their old facility, their old home. They're currently on the old island port they used to run, it’s now abandoned but she’s thinking of getting it back up and running. So not only can beast yeast have easier access to the world outside, but so she can give trade opportunities to Gingerbrave’s kingdom. Give them a little gift for giving them the opportunity to see their family again, no matter how incidental it might’ve been. They feel a need to pay a debt.

And so for the past week or so they’ve worked on fixing their old… facility, facility is the best way to describe it they think. For it’s a mish mash of multiple types of buildings, such as the green house, the lighthouse, the lab, etc…. Her “keep” might be a better word. Anyways she’s been working on fixing it up since she plans to help run this old port again. But recently they’ve taken a break from that to…. Write their confession letters to Shadow milk and Golden butter.

It’s only been a day since she sent the letters she knows!! But gods above waiting is SO nerve wracking, like she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. And they hate it, they hate this feeling so, so much. God do they feel a little pathetic, wait no! No talking bad about yourself you promised you won’t. Arcane takes a deep breath in, no need to catastrophize everything ok. 

They move to the edge of the gazebo with lush tall wild grass all round, with a multitude of wild flowers dotted within. Arcane then plucks a few wild flowers and begins to weave them together into a flower crown. They needed to do something with their hands. And so a few minutes pass with only a gentle breeze to fill the air. Arcane egg than heard something…. Were they foot steps?

“Wait! Shadow milk wait-“ was that Golden butters voice? Wait what-

(THUD)

Arcane egg is suddenly knocked backwards into the grass with a loud thud, they drop the flower crown they were making. “Wha. Who?” Arcane stutters out.

The person pinning her to the ground says “We finally found you~!” Shadow milks sing song voice rings out.

“Huh- Moonie? How did you get here so fast. Weren’t you on Crispia?”

“Tut tut tut, my dear Sunny I’m an accomplished mage! Of course I got here quickly, besides you left the teleportation line open to us!”

“Oh cool…” is all Arcane can say, still very stunned from being tackled so brazenly. Especially since she’s so short.

“Shadow milk, get off her. We have things to discuss.” Golden butter says calmly but firmly, she’s focused on the goal at hand.

“But oh c'mon~ she’s just too cute like this!” Shadow milk presented Arcane like a most prized possession.

“Shadow milk…”

“Fine, fine, no fun.” Shadow milk lets out a small hmph before setting Arcane egg back on the gazebo floor quite gently actually, he then sits right beside her.

“W-why did you tackle me? Did I do something wrong?” Arcane is still a little winded.

“I wouldn’t say you did something wrong Arcane, but we do need to talk.” Golden butter then sits on Arcanes other side.

“…. Is it about the letters..?” Arcane asks nervously, are they upset?

“Hey now! Don’t start spiraling on us now!” He pinches Arcanes cheek, out of affection mostly “We actually accept!”

“HUH!?” Arcanes voice cracks a little “Really?!”

Golden butter gives Arcane a tender look “of course we accept, and even if we didn’t we wouldn’t be cruel about it.”

“Do you think so lowly of us Sunny, oh I’m wounded.”

“NO! Not at all, I just… never got the impression Goldie liked me that way. You either Moonie.”

Shadow milks face softens noticeably “Oh Sunny.” He grabs one of their hands “of course I loved you, even when I let my attention turn from you. From what really matters, I still did it for my family. For you!”

Golden butter than grabs Arcanes other hand “… I know I left you alone for… so long, I made you grieve for such a long time. And for that I’m truly sorry, we both are. Which is also why we won’t let you slip away now.”

(…Sniffle)

The two look at Arcane egg suddenly, was- was she crying?

“Hey hey hey, Sunny-!” Shadow milk begins to wipe away a few tears 

“I- I’m sorry, I just… didn’t think you would feel the same way… I was afraid of pushing you away.” Arcanes watery voice breaks her silent crying

“Oh Hun- we would never do that! We care about you too much” Golden butter says while brushing some hair out of Arcanes eyes “…we love you to much to do that.”

This makes them cry more “Guh- I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” They quickly wipe away their tears “but if you do feel the same way… do- do you want to go on a date?”

Both of them stare before a deep blush can be seen on each “Of course! Oh this is a dream come true!” Shadow milk claps happily 

“I- of course!” Golden butter blurts out 

The three begin to discuss what their first date should be, and when beneath a sunset. Arcane doesn’t know how this will end but… she’s hopeful. It’s a nice feeling, and so warm…

She loves them so much.

AUFAIHTAUOHGIGUUSHGJGH THEY'RE ALL SO SILLY I LOVE THEM!!!

[slothgiirl]

a rose by any other name epilogue

reader x druig.

New York. North Dakota. 2024.

You had never been to New York before. Not in this life, or any other. You weren’t sure this counted either.

Seeing a city from the airport cab ride to Doctor Strange’s place in the city seemed like cheating. You’d seen the famous skyline, but hadn’t step foor anywhere.

“Is there some superhero directory I’m not aware of,” you ask Druig, craning your neck. You were pretty sure that was central park, gone in a flash.

“Sanctums are quite stationary,” he shrugs, licking ketchup off his fingers. You thought airport hotdogs were a bag idea. “This one’d been around since the 1700s. When it was New Amsterdam.” 

“Wasn’t Hong Kong closer?”

Druig shakes his head, “we need someone. . .flexible about all those rules they made about the mystic arts.”

“Two thousand years and it never occured to you until now,” you ask him, slouching into the seat. The world was still intact. The news hasn’t stopped reporting on the new chain of islands in the indian ocean that look like fingers. 

Tiamut was neither alive or dead in some weird cosmic energy thing you didn’t understand. 

Druig looks over at you sheepishly, “I had other things on my mind.” His gaze flickers down to your chest.

It’s probably the whole averted apocalypse that has you in such an indulgent mood; you lean you head against his shoulder and smack his chest lightly.

“Careful my lady,” he says sounding terribly smug, “Ikaris did attempt to murder me.”

“I guess I’ll have to finish the job,” you rest your hand against his chest, feeling his ribcage move as he breathes. He wasn’t fine. 

Druig was careful to keep weight off his left foot. 

Phastos had given him the all clear which didn’t make you feel much better. Not when two of them had died in the span of days. 

Phastos had left quickly, unable to be away from his family for any longer. 

“Oh, is that how it’s gonna be,” he laughs.

“I guess I could let it slide,” you meet his gaze, feeling immense relief all over again, “you did just save the world.”

Druig tips his chin up, looking full of himself. 

There was a lightness to him that you’d missed, a playfulness that was so characteristic of your Eternal lover. Your eyes rover over his features that you knew so well. The scar on his cheekbone, near the outer corner of his eyes, had not faded at all. The way his brilliant blue eyes crinkled with easy smiles and how his laugh filled a room. 

He was there. Alive. You were both alive. 

So many lives and you continued to be enamoured of him. It never got old, being in love, making a home with him. Anyplace, anytime. 

There were tears in your eyes.

Again.

All you’d done this week was cry.

“I did,” he nods, pressing his lips against your hair. “Though if you hear Phastos tell it-”

“Yeah,” you clutch the fabric of his shirt. 

Sensing your somber mood, Druig wraps his arms around you. “I’m right here, love.” He tucks your head under his chin, “‘S alright.”

“When the plane started to shake,” you say quietly, “I thought that was it-” It was over. The world ending with you in a private plane. 

There had been so many close calls.

“The world’s always ending,” you mutter, breathing in his scent. You understood Lizzy, finally. 

It was never over. Earth was still in trouble after Thanos.

Captain Marvel had her hands full with the rest of the universe.

“Is this what being part of the universe is like?” Always being scared some empire would come in and take over, being invaded, some asshole destroying your planet for no reason. You didn’t want to sit by and hope for the best. You couldn’t.

It would drive you mad.

“I-,” he frowns. “Well, I wouldn’t really know. Don’t remember anything but Earth.”

“All those planets-” you shift your gaze out the window as the cab pulls to a stop. What about the planets where Arishem got their way? 

“I know.” 

Druig’s expression grows weary. It was the same way he’d looked when Ajak had forbidden them from aiding the Mexica from smallpox and the genocide on the horizon. He wasn’t going to let this go.

You pay for the cab. 

The sanctum is an unassuming building. The plaque is the only way you know you’re in the right place. 

You're surprised there's no awards for saving half the universe. No Avengers insignia for Doctor Strange. 

Druig holds your hand.

“This isn’t some. . .” you pause, “He can help right?” You didn’t understand much of anything when it came to magic. 

“If not,” his eyes glow. “I can always. . .”

It’s comforting. 

“Okay.” You nod.

The world was still spinning. There was nothing else you could do but go for it. 

Dr. Strange seemed the type to break whatever rules suited him, very Iron Man-esque who thought he was above the Sokovia Accords. Right? You try not to think to hard about Ultron. About ashes and world heritage sites getting destroyed by the latest threat. The London Eye was still closed. 

You breathe.

And knock against the door.

It swings open.

You aren’t sure what to expect as you step through: cauldrons and black witches hats covered in dust and cobwebs. The last sanctum had been ordinary for it’s time, filled with students and ancient sayings in calligraphy hanging on the walls. That isn’t New York either. It lacks the faux orientalism prevalent in Europe circa the 1800s. 

No, the New York sanctum feels like a rundown hotel that’s decades past its prime but no less grand for it. There’s tasteful tables with relics you imagine are just as magical as Phastos inventions. 

You peer around the grand staircase, expecting to see someone. “Hello?” You don’t have to check to know Druig’s a step behind you. His presence is an anchor as you venture further into the sanctum. 

There were no students. 

It feels abandoned compared with Hong Kong. 

Your chest tightens at the thought of the sleepy fishing village. Hong Kong was nothing like that now. There was a certain pain that came with knowing the world was transformed each time you lived. You thought of street food vendors whose names only you knew. 

All that history you carried with you. The faces of people you’d loved. The memories of books that had not survived. 

You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. 

In your mind’s eye, the ashes of the Snap were the same as the smoke of Tenochtitlan burning. 

Druig sets his hands on your shoulders, “do you think they have an Instagram we can message?”

“Ha, very funny,” Dr. Strange walks in from a corridor, looking over his shoulder like a teenager sneaking out of the house, “do you mind if we move this into the laundry room. Don’t want Wong to interrupt us,” he says even as he leads the way.

“You were expecting us. . .Dr. Strange,” you state aloud looking for confirmation. It was a parlour trick for these sorcerers. 

“Yes and no.” He whips his head, turning to you as he opens a door, “and please call me Stephan. Dr. Strange is grandiose even by my standards.”

“And the discount Jedi robes aren’t,” Druig says cocking his brows. 

You elbow him, “look who’s talking.”

“My lady,” he holds his hand against his chest in mock offence.

You roll your eyes at him. 

Stephan looks on, amused. “I foresaw the high possibility that you’d stop here. . .it the world wasn’t destroyed, if you both survived, if you chose to leave. There’s so many factors. A background in statistics is useful in the mystic arts.”

“Well that’s no fun.” You’d been hoping for less maths and more wand waving. In the news, it seemed so easy, just a wave of his hands and-TA DA. 

“And neither is reincarnating,” Stephan snarks back, taking a seat on a laundry basket full of either robes or linens. 

You purse your lips. “It’s not ideal. But not awful.” You never really remembered dying unless it was awful. That hadn’t happened in a while. No, it was more like being homesick for a time and place that didn’t exist but people struggled with that all the time. People moved so often in this century: never knowing when they’d go back home. 

And that wasn’t even touching on displaced people. Millions of Sokovian refugees. . .

“So you're not here to get that fixed?” Stephan asks pointedly. 

He must’ve decided to become a doctor by watching House M.D. Copied the whole schtick off there. 

“I thought it couldn’t be. . .changed.” You frown, crossing your arms over your chest. You wish you could google this magic stuff. You didn’t like being so badly informed. 

“No. The spell you cast can’t be modified,” Stephan agrees, “I’d have to break it and create a new one. Though granting any type of immortality is a big no-no in the mystic arts.”

“Which is why we’re hiding,” Druig infers.

Stephan Strange frowns ruefully, “I’m not Sorcerer Supreme anymore or it’d be my call. I still-I’m still going to help.”

“Right?” 

“Earth needs all the allies it can get.”

“So not out of the kindness of your heart,” you surmise, feeling like a pawn. You’d never liked how Ikaris and Ajak had made you feel like a tag along. Like Druig’s human pet. It left a bad taste in your mouth. 

“You don’t think you’ve lived long enough?”

And wasn’t that also true. You’d been lucky to witness so much. History and people and spend it with the man you loved, your soulmate, not just once but over and over. It was far longer than most people got. You’d told Druig something similar once. 

What made you so special you deserved an exception?

“Oi,” Druig stiffens. 

But this wasn’t his call. This wasn’t about him. Not really. 

This was about you. You who was just another human having an unusual conversation with a peer. Often, you’d be the token human in the Eternals conversation and no matter how long you’d lived there was still something unique about the human experience that you could relate to Stephan Strange in a way that Druig and Sersi would never understand. 

(You’d talk about this with Sprite one day.)

“I think I’ve been very lucky,” you acknowledge. “But all I want is this life. For however long that is. I think I’ve done enough reincarnating, y’know.” It had all been a cosmic accident you didn’t even remember creating. Had you been trying to save yourself and the magic came out like this? Had you meant to create another spell? 

These memories were lost to you now. And they didn’t matter. 

You were done with living again and again. You didn’t want to forget and remember and forget again. You wanted to hold onto all of you, your memories and thoughts and your muchness as it was right now in this moment and die knowing that was the end. Just like everyone else. (You were curious about what came after, if anything.)

“Okay,” Stephan smiles kindly. “I’ll help you. But- this’ll be it. No second chances. No next time. No do overs. You’ll be frozen in time. You’ll still have your magic, but you won’t age. You couldn’t ever have children. You’ll still be just as breakable as me and every other sucker in New York.”

“Alright.” You nod.

“You sure? I can always just break the spell.”

“I’m sure.” 

He nods. “Well then, try and stand still. I need to concentrate.” Dr. Strange waves his hands in cyclical movements. 

It’s like a buzz under you skin. Something’s happening, but it’s too foreign for you to understand what. The small cramped room fills with light. 

You shut your eyes and count, steadying your breath. This was it. 

By this time tomorrow you’d be in space. 

It was crazy when you thought about it. No less crazy than Thanos and New York and falling in love with an alien. 

1. 2. 3. 

Deep breath. 

***

Makkari waves her pointer finger in a circular motion, the most universal hand gesture for spin around. 

You indulge her, “you’re acting like I grew another head or something.”

The speedster smiles, I am glad you are coming with us. 

You grin, “you’re only saying that so I help you with your eReader. Or did you splurge on an Ipad? Wait, you probably stole it.”

Looking awfully mischievous, Makkari holds her finger to her lips, hush now. Didn’t happen if there’s no witnesses.

You laugh, figuring there were worse crimes than stealing from the Apple Store. 

The Domo floated above head. Thena was all packed up and ready to go. You’d said your goodbyes to Sersi, Kingo, and Sprite days ago. 

Now it was just about leaving. Leaving this green and blue rock you called home. 

You bite your bottom lip. It had been hard packing up, mostly because you didn’t know when you’d be back. Clothes, essentials, a magic book from Dr. Strange. Saying your goodbyes hurt the most. 

What would Sprite look like at twenty? You were so used to her as an adolescent. Your siblings. . .

“We don’t have to go.” Druig reaches for your hand. “We can stay if you wish, my lady.”

North Dakota was gloomy today. 

“I want to.” That was true. You also felt bittersweet at leaving this planet. “I want to see the stars. Find the other Eternals.” You meet his startling blue eyes, cupping his cheek. “I want to do all of it with you.” 

He rests his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

“I know,” you nod, “just, give me a moment.” You squeeze his hand, before slowly heading towards Thena. You take your time, gazing over the landscape. The grass was brown and dead for the season. You're pretty sure it’s going to rain tonight. 

It was frightening to say goodbye to everything you knew. It was frightening to begin a new chapter after so long. There’s security in the known, in the constant, and now that is gone. But you were ready for it. You were ready to begin a new chapter. You weren’t in this alone. You had Thena and Makkari, and the man you loved and that was all you really needed. The people you loved. 

You look over your shoulder, watching as Druig hugs Phastos, ready to explore the stars.

notes: bookendings with makkari and druig at the end just like how the first chapter was makkari and druig mainly. im making up that dr strange timelooped reader’s physical body so shes frozen in time. idk. idk. he’s also like yeah mb this is important to the cosmos the way he connected the dots that tony start needed to live to defeat thanos. either way druig and reader get to have lots of sex on the domo after saving the world and thena forces makkari to organize her piles of stolen things. mb reader learns to use magic and starts being able to hold her own in a fight.

[starsarefire824]

Byler but they're snowed in and it's cold and they *haven't figured out* they like each other and they have to share a quilt and maybe it's quiet or they're watching a film and neither of them says anything until one of them just fucking snaps

Will shivers when an icy draft pours in from the thin glassed window of the new house his mom is renting. Well, new to the Byers family anyway. He thinks the house must be at least fifty years older than his other house, but it definitely looks nicer. It’s closer to the center of town and almost pretty with wood floors and intricate trim on the stairwell. There’s even a pretty brick fireplace in the living room, which made Will grin ear to ear when they first came to see it. However, the landlord told them once they moved in never to light it unless they wanted to burn the place down. And so it sits there taunting him with being cozy, its mantle still decorated for Christmas even though it’s February. Will thinks he should probably just take the stuff down himself. His mom has been working a lot to make up for the cost of Christmas, and he’s been helping out more around the house since Jonathan went to college to keep it in order.   

He watches the snow fall in heavy, round plops. It’s piling up unbelievably fast and the news said that it would continue well into the night. His mom already told him she was leaving her car at Melvaud’s and staying the night at Hop’s cabin. Her and El were going to watch A Room With a View. He could hear Hop already complaining about it in the background. Will frowns as a wind gust makes snow swirl around the side of the house and he can barely see to the end of the driveway. “I don’t know, Mike. I’m not sure you’re going home.” He eyes Mike’s bike that’s thrown haphazardly on the front lawn, quickly disappearing. 

Mike pops a piece of popcorn into his mouth, his eyes looking past Will out the window. He smiles out of one side of his mouth. “Yeaaaaah. I already called my Mom while you were in the bathroom. She told me she would come get me in the morning, but that she’s not driving in this.” 

Will nods and heads back towards the couch, staring at the TV as the credits to the movie they just watched float across the screen. There’s an ancient, ugly heater sitting next to it that keeps the living room a little warmer than the rest of the house. His Mom refused to turn the heat up past 66 during the day and a biting 55 at night. Instead she gets propane from Hopper and when Will complains she just tells him to get another sweater. He currently has his thickest wool socks he could find on and he can still feel the floorboards beneath his feet, his toes stiff with the cold. And he’s noticed that Mike hasn’t removed his knit cap from his head since he got here three hours ago. He’s also currently sitting under a huge old quilt his grandmother had knitted a thousand years ago. It’s thinned and frayed in some places, but still heavy and thick enough and…..big enough for them to share. 

Will folds his arms across his chest, plopping himself heavily onto the couch. He tugs at the blanket, sighing with relief as he feels Mike’s body heat beneath it. 

“Hey!” Mike complains, tugging it back towards himself. Will just smiles and then sticks his feet along Mike's thigh, gently pushing until they’re underneath him. Mike hisses. “Jesus Will! I can feel your toes through your fucking socks!” 

Will blushes, ears burning as he objects, his voice cracking embarrassingly. “What! I’m cold.” He pulls the blanket up towards his chin, letting it fall comfortably around his shoulders.

“You’re always cold!” Mike exclaims, but he doesn’t move away from his touch and something about that makes Will’s heart flutter. He shoves Mike a little with his foot. “Well we can’t all be furnaces like you, Mike.” 

Mike shrugs, “Yeah well—-” he starts  to argue, then trails off when he catches Will’s eye. He peeks at him after examining the mostly empty bowl of popcorn in his lap. 

An awkward beat passes between them and Will glances toward the television. “Soo—what do you want to do? We could play a game or watch another movie? We still have The Lost Boys and Full Metal Jacket. Robin said Full Metal Jacket is really good.” 

Mike lets out a little breath and nods gently. “Yeah. I’d like that.” But his voice is softer than before and his eyes dart towards him again and Will doesn’t understand why he looks so terrified. Mike’s mouth softens around something he wants to say, but then he freezes for a second. That’s when Will feels the air shift in the room—now grown heavy and his heart isn’t fluttering anymore. It pounds heavily in his chest when Mike’s gaze has grown serious and focused- just staring at his lap. Will's breath catches when Mike’s hand moves beneath the quilt and oh so tentatively lets his fingers slide up the back of Will’s calf. He bites his bottom lip and his eyes flash up to Will, as if he’s forcing himself to make eye contact. They are questioning and scared and—--wanting in a way Will has never seen before. Or maybe it’s just that Will has never let himself see that flush across Mike’s face before. 

Will sits frozen, pressed deep into the couch as he allows Mike to slide his fingers up and up further, excruciatingly slow as they flutter over his knee and towards his thigh. He breathes out heavily, “Mike—” his friend’s name hitches in his throat. It’s a question. It’s a warning. It says: don’t do this to me, unless you really mean it. 

Because this. This thing is something that has only ever lived in Will’s daydreams and late at night hidden under the sheets of his bed. This is something that’s only ever lived inside a glance that lasts far too long or a touch at his hip that is too tender. It’s only ever lived in their strange jealous arguments when one wasn’t paying the other enough attention or when they sat up late on Friday nights chatting about “When we” and “We’ll go here when we’re older” —talking as if they would always be together when deep down none of it was realistic. ‘Cause eventually there’d be wives (at least for Mike anyway) and mortgages and jobs that took them to separate states. Eventually—they’d be someone they called on the phone and got to see at the Wheeler’s Christmas party once a year. And maybe they’d drink a little too much wine on those nights and sneak into the old elementary school’s playground, maybe they’d hug too long and Will would allow himself the tiny pleasure of letting his eyes linger on the way Mike’s lips parted as they stared at each other, their breath a mixed up cloud between them.

And that would be enough. Will could let it be enough. 

But not this. If Mike did this. Then none of that would ever be enough. Will could never not have him. After this, his heart would tear in two and he'd shatter into a million little pieces. 

A heavy wave of unwelcome emotion floods over Will then. His eyes flutter shut as he sucks in a shaky breath. 

“Will–” Mike sighs. And then he’s shifting his hips towards him, the bowl of popcorn clattering loudly onto the floor. Will’s eyes shoot open and he watches in awe, in terror, in disbelief as Mike is suddenly reaching for him, blanket thrown half off and tangled between their bodies. He gently grips the inside of Will’s knee, making space for himself between his legs. A little wine catches in Will’s throat as Mike’s on top of him, his hands are in his hair and sliding along his  jaw and Will is so overwhelmed he can’t think of anything but him. He feels the tears sliding down his face and catching on his ears as he closes his eyes when Mike’s lips meet his. Will can’t help but smile into his mouth as he kisses him. His kiss is filled with all the things Mike’s never said. It makes Will’s heart swell with happiness and his entire body quivers in anticipation and he thinks that maybe Mike never really had to be good with words at all. He thinks that maybe he was saving it all for this very moment. And it makes Will think for the very first time that whatever this is between them, whatever has lived buried deep and warm beneath the surface of their friendship, might now be able to grow into what it was always meant to be. Maybe those “when we” and “let’s go here” dreams weren’t so unrealistic after all. The thought of that sends a happy warmth through him that spreads through his chest down to the tips of his toes like wildfire. Will relaxes into Mike, wraps his fingers around the back of his neck and pulls his best friend closer. 

[azure-buttercups]

the confession

Sup bitches! Guess who made a confession fic for Arcane egg, Golden butter, and Shadow milk. Me! First things first @revisitingfandoms helped me come up with the gifts, but also write the letters! Check them out!

Anyways tell me what you think of the fic!

—————————————————————————————-

He sits at a desk within a well ferbished room decorated in a variety of blues, purples, magentas, and some cyans. Within his vice tight grip is a letter, the packaging is tossed aside and now sits next to a mechanical flower. The flower shifts from a inky yet iridescent black to various shades of blue on each of the petals. The stem is a shining light silver that glints within the light, both petals and stem hold an intricate design of swirls and eyes. The most curious thing about the flower though is the soft music emminating from it. Its a playful tune, one might here this type of song playing at a carnival or maybe theater.

Shadow milk cookie keeps rereading the letter, over and over his eyes linger on each word. The familiar sent of sweet sugars and of metal almost overwhelm him more than the actual words. He can’t believe, he just can’t. Arcane sent him a confession letter, and such a sincere one to! They might say they were no good with words, but this makes his heart beat incredibly fast. It’s such a simple letter but that may be why it’s so effective, in its simple nature it’s incredibly sincere and heartfelt.

It reads…

(Dear Moonie,

It's been a long run between us, huh? So many years between us, from the old days on my island and your tower to where we are today. I missed you for so many years when you were taken. I can’t count the amount I would just sit back and wish that you were here by my side. I remember wanting at one point wanting to just summon you to tell me what happened and yet- I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Anytime I thought about it- I’d look back on the false letter the witches sent thinking that this was what you wanted.

I betrayed my emotions hundreds of times- always thinking ‘he wanted to be alone, this what he wants’. Part of me can only look back at how foolish I was. Did I not know you for hundreds of years? Did I not visit and learn beside you for decades? Perhaps it was my assumption and belief of you being under the influence of the corruption. I only realize now that was something that doomed me in the end.

Moonie Shadow Milk, I have come to realize one thing. I cannot hide the pains I’ve gained over the years, I should not hide my pains because in the hide they will only come back to hurt myself and those who care for me.  

Shadow Milk, I did not tell you everything that day. I left a few secrets to myself and I tell you now because I cannot bring myself to say it in person.

Shadow Milk Cookie, I love you. It's a realization that hasn’t come to me easily, much less immediately.

I realized only after you were sealed. Perhaps that's what originally broke my heart- I remember Golden Butter telling me about the kiss you shared between her and you. Part of me had resigned to never holding your heart- until you told me those words that day. I won’t hesitate here and now. Shadow Milk I love you. 

Yours truly, 

Sunny.)

His eyes keep going back to the words “I love you”, he feels just a little light headed and his face can’t help but deepen in color. He forces himself to put down the letter and tenderly picks up the mechanical gift, he holds it like it’s the most valuable thing he owns and would ever own. As the soft music plays his mind wonders back to letter, has his dear Sunny really felt this way for that long. For thousands of years, even though he and the rest were sealed? Even though they thought his heart belonged to another… even when the two people she liked we’re interested in each other and not her. 

That sounds like torture! Complete and other torture! Shadow milk grips his hair tightly with one hand, the other still holds the precious flower. He quickly hops out of his chair which almost knocks it over, and begins to rapidly pace back and forth in the room. Holding those types of feelings with that intensity within yourself for that long! That sounds awful! So very awful! How, why did she do that to herself! Not even confessing to just get those feelings out, but instead keeping them buried! Why he ask’s himself… he knows why, or at least her their reasoning why. 

She thought that if she did confess her feelings that they wouldn’t only not be reciprocated, but she thought she’d loose both oh her closest friends. Which offends him, it offends him greatly! Do they think so little of their friendship that they think he’d just leave, he’s their blinding BEST-FRIEND! And another thing! They were just gonna let themselves suffer, which is unacceptable! He can’t help it when he stamps his foot on the ground in frustration. 

That big depressed dumb dumb! Well he won’t stand for it, he needs to find Golden butter and talk to her about her feelings. Because of the mention of her in his letter Arcane must’ve sent her one to! He quickly bounds towards the door and flings it open with haste. Those who are tempted to stop him to ask questions on the reconstruction of the Blueberry academy quickly decided against it, for he had an intense look in his eyes. As if he were a predator on the hunt, they feel bad for whoever earned his ire.

….Indeed. Poor Arcane egg cookie, poor Arcane egg cookie  indeed.

Luckily for Shadow milk cookie Golden butter cookie is in the same kind of predicament he was in. Golden butter recently decided to take a break from her travels, as a result she’s in her toy box relaxing in her room… well she was relaxing. Right now she was sitting on the edge of her bed with a letter in a tight grip, with wide eyes scanning the letter. For her usual easy expression with minimal reactions is now very, very expressive. 

The letter that’s gotten such a reaction reads…

(Dear Starlight,

A Lot has happened over these thousands of years and there's quite a bit I feel I should say. The question is how I put it into words.

For the longest time I’ve had feelings for Shadow Milk and yet- You loved him. Back then I was more than content to let you two be with each other even at my own expense. You two made each so happy and I couldn’t…

I couldn’t bring myself to ruin that. Yet over time something inside me grew- I didn’t realize it right away.

It was only after you were asleep that I realized I was in love with you. I remember silently cursing fate, I remember more than expecting for my own heart to break once again. 

Yet in the aftermath of everything, I want to defy that so-called fate I thought of- I want to chance this, I want to so badly.

Starlight I am in love with you, I am so very much in love with you and shadow Milk- more than anything. 

Sincerely yours,

Sunny)

As Golden butter nervously twirls a strand of her golden hair, to her side on her bedside table a small mechanical flower can be seen. The flowers petals are various shades of yellow that fade to white tips, the stem is a darker gold-brass that’s cool to the touch. It’s center is a brown metallic button, the most spectacular thing about it though is when it’s in light. For when that happens the white tips of the petals refract the light creating a soft multicolor iridescent light. It seems Arcane is truly after the artists heart.

And it seems Arcane may have seized it, for Golden butter pulls the letter to her chest as if it were one of her precious dolls. A faint blush can be seen on her face as she can’t help but let out a small giddy giggle as she kicks her feet slightly. After a long moment as she collects her emotions she grabs the metal flower, she can now hear a faint melody playing. It’s as soothing as a lullaby, and so Golden puts the flower in her beret. It’s a perfect match!

When she first read the confession she was so sure she saw Arcane as only a close friend, but afterwards she can’t be sure that’s true anymore. For her heart started to beat oh so fast after the simple words “I love you”. After the realization Golden can’t help but giggle slightly, for if she said that to Arcane they would’ve teased “ Damn. Cant believe historians will remember us as the closest of friends~.”

For as quiet as they may be, they are quite lively, witty even. That’s probably one of the reasons why her and Shadow milk got along so well… as yes Shadow milk. They liked Shadow milk, oh god she confessed her feelings about Shadow milk to them. Is that- is that why they seemed slightly off? No wonder, of course they would be slightly different after that! You confessed to not only liking their crush, but you were also one of their crushes.

As Golden butters thoughts continue to run wild at that realization a soft ping could be heard. She sits still for a moment before searching for her communication device, Arcane made one for all of them do they can stay in touch. When she finally finds it another ping rings out, she quickly answers.

“U-um yes? How may I help you-“

“Hey Goldie! Did you happen to say- get a well worded confession from our dear Sunny!” While his voice might hold a lively conviction to it, his actual mood seems to be intense. Maybe slightly irritated?

“Oh yes I did, why are you asking-“

“Great, now I need you to be as plain as possible, mkay? Do you have feelings for Sunny.” He… was being uncharacteristically serious.

“I-… yes. Yes I do… do you?”

“Of course I do, just as much as I love you.” That admittance of feeling makes Golden’s heart beat and stutter. “So…”

“Sooo..?”

“Cmon now Goldie! If we both like them, we like each other, and they like us both why not take a chance!! Or is the doll maker to afraid to loose control, hmm~” for as much as she wanted to snap back at him, he was right in a sense…even if he was being a slight jerk about it. She was always withdrawn allowing herself to drown in her doubt, to never believe and take a chance.

“Yeah… ok I’m willing to give it a try.” She said firmly, resolute in her actions.

“Good~! Now I’m on my way to pick you up because we have a very silly, and I mean silly silly egg to cheer up!”

“Cheer up? Last time I checked they were doing much better. Why did something happen??”

“Not quite my dear, while it is true that she’s gotten better. We both know her, we know how much of a nervous mess they get when dealing with uncertainties. Especially when it’s stuff, or in this case people she cares about. Are we really gonna let our dead Sunny burn themselves out in worry until they fizzle out like a dying star?”

“No, when are you getting here”

“Oh theirs the conviction~ I’ll be three minutes.”

…..

Arcane egg sits quietly within a gazebo near their old facility, their old home. They're currently on the old island port they used to run, it’s now abandoned but she’s thinking of getting it back up and running. So not only can beast yeast have easier access to the world outside, but so she can give trade opportunities to Gingerbrave’s kingdom. Give them a little gift for giving them the opportunity to see their family again, no matter how incidental it might’ve been. They feel a need to pay a debt.

And so for the past week or so they’ve worked on fixing their old… facility, facility is the best way to describe it they think. For it’s a mish mash of multiple types of buildings, such as the green house, the lighthouse, the lab, etc…. Her “keep” might be a better word. Anyways she’s been working on fixing it up since she plans to help run this old port again. But recently they’ve taken a break from that to…. Write their confession letters to Shadow milk and Golden butter.

It’s only been a day since she sent the letters she knows!! But gods above waiting is SO nerve wracking, like she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. And they hate it, they hate this feeling so, so much. God do they feel a little pathetic, wait no! No talking bad about yourself you promised you won’t. Arcane takes a deep breath in, no need to catastrophize everything ok. 

They move to the edge of the gazebo with lush tall wild grass all round, with a multitude of wild flowers dotted within. Arcane then plucks a few wild flowers and begins to weave them together into a flower crown. They needed to do something with their hands. And so a few minutes pass with only a gentle breeze to fill the air. Arcane egg than heard something…. Were they foot steps?

“Wait! Shadow milk wait-“ was that Golden butters voice? Wait what-

(THUD)

Arcane egg is suddenly knocked backwards into the grass with a loud thud, they drop the flower crown they were making. “Wha. Who?” Arcane stutters out.

The person pinning her to the ground says “We finally found you~!” Shadow milks sing song voice rings out.

“Huh- Moonie? How did you get here so fast. Weren’t you on Crispia?”

“Tut tut tut, my dear Sunny I’m an accomplished mage! Of course I got here quickly, besides you left the teleportation line open to us!”

“Oh cool…” is all Arcane can say, still very stunned from being tackled so brazenly. Especially since she’s so short.

“Shadow milk, get off her. We have things to discuss.” Golden butter says calmly but firmly, she’s focused on the goal at hand.

“But oh c'mon~ she’s just too cute like this!” Shadow milk presented Arcane like a most prized possession.

“Shadow milk…”

“Fine, fine, no fun.” Shadow milk lets out a small hmph before setting Arcane egg back on the gazebo floor quite gently actually, he then sits right beside her.

“W-why did you tackle me? Did I do something wrong?” Arcane is still a little winded.

“I wouldn’t say you did something wrong Arcane, but we do need to talk.” Golden butter then sits on Arcanes other side.

“…. Is it about the letters..?” Arcane asks nervously, are they upset?

“Hey now! Don’t start spiraling on us now!” He pinches Arcanes cheek, out of affection mostly “We actually accept!”

“HUH!?” Arcanes voice cracks a little “Really?!”

Golden butter gives Arcane a tender look “of course we accept, and even if we didn’t we wouldn’t be cruel about it.”

“Do you think so lowly of us Sunny, oh I’m wounded.”

“NO! Not at all, I just… never got the impression Goldie liked me that way. You either Moonie.”

Shadow milks face softens noticeably “Oh Sunny.” He grabs one of their hands “of course I loved you, even when I let my attention turn from you. From what really matters, I still did it for my family. For you!”

Golden butter than grabs Arcanes other hand “… I know I left you alone for… so long, I made you grieve for such a long time. And for that I’m truly sorry, we both are. Which is also why we won’t let you slip away now.”

(…Sniffle)

The two look at Arcane egg suddenly, was- was she crying?

“Hey hey hey, Sunny-!” Shadow milk begins to wipe away a few tears 

“I- I’m sorry, I just… didn’t think you would feel the same way… I was afraid of pushing you away.” Arcanes watery voice breaks her silent crying

“Oh Hun- we would never do that! We care about you too much” Golden butter says while brushing some hair out of Arcanes eyes “…we love you to much to do that.”

This makes them cry more “Guh- I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” They quickly wipe away their tears “but if you do feel the same way… do- do you want to go on a date?”

Both of them stare before a deep blush can be seen on each “Of course! Oh this is a dream come true!” Shadow milk claps happily 

“I- of course!” Golden butter blurts out 

The three begin to discuss what their first date should be, and when beneath a sunset. Arcane doesn’t know how this will end but… she’s hopeful. It’s a nice feeling, and so warm…

She loves them so much.

[katastrophic-n3vulaa]

a little excerpt from a new daredevil and avengers fic im writing.

premise: matt did die at midland circle, but he learnt many things from stick, and he can be the devil in more than name, so he refused to fall.

The world is on fire.

All his nerves are firing, the cuts on his body like flows of molten rock, the raw skin over his torso is covered in flaking patches of blood, the microscopic particles in the air running like sandpaper over his open skin, the vibrations of a train more than twenty blocks away arching through his bones, the lines of still-warm blood that flow down his body feels like someone carving a white-hot knife through him even though blood isn’t even close to that temperature-

Footsteps sound on steel sixteen blocks away. He flinches, burying his head deeper into his shoulders, but he can still hear all of it- 

The minivan with AC/DC blaring through the speakers and the shouts and yells of the eleven people drunk and dancing thirty-seven blocks away, the cars on the streets, the screech of breaks failing as one car slams into a corner shop’s glass window, taking a drunk couple with them into death,

a man with a broken rib and a woman with a dislocated shoulder screaming and yelling at each other in Romanian, as a little girl two rooms over holds her baby brother in his crib crying, three pairs of people having sex, the dying heartbeat of an old woman sitting on the side of the road, staring up at the stars,

the gunfight at the docks, two kids screaming for someone to save their father as an alcoholic mother smashes a bottle into his exposed back, a teen sitting on top of a ten-storey building zipping up a bag and stepping off the ledge-

A child in the corner of a room, gagged and long since out of tears shivering violently as their blood pressure drops to lethal levels, a sister curling around the dying body of her older brother held by her mother and father as their son dies of something that could’ve been treated had they been anywhere else,

the screams of children, teens, adults and elders alike, the laughs of thirteen different people- some hysterical, some cruel, one joyful- and the thousands of different heartbeats he hears-

He can hear the gravel under his feet, the scrape of his bare feet across it, the bones in his body moving, joints rotating as his ligaments move in an instinctual way to walk, his muscles contracting and expanding, his blood rushing around his body, the blood still running on the outside of his body over skin, his heartbeat, the grinding of his teeth and his eyes blinking but he can’t see and he hasn’t been able to since he was nine-

He shudders as the scent of rotting and decaying bodies rush over him, joining the smell of salt, wind, pollen, dead fish, sulphur, motor oil, sweat, sex, alcohol, skin, nylon, plastic, burning rubber, metal, leather, cologne, perfume, tears, bricks and more and more and more and more-

But he hears familiar humming from a familiar place as he clenches his eyes shut to stop the dust and sound and light from touching them, and he stumbles from an alley as the talking of four people becomes crystal clear, he can hear the mechanical whirring from a man’s chest,

the high-pitched endless squeal of hearing-aids from another, the trained quiet from a woman, and the heavy thundering heartbeat from a man who’s muscles twitch then move as the man steps towards him, and he can hear the man’s lungs contract and air start moving as the man’s vocal folds move and the man starts yelling, “sir!” and he flinches, burying his head further into his shoulders and limping on forward to that familiar place.

bc i haven't slept, for anyone who actually reads all the way down here, you get a present called the google doc link where i put my chapters. all it's got is some of chapter 1 at the moment

Also, the 'him' refers to matt, because he quite literally just revived himself and escaped after a year of semi-torture, and he doesn't remember his name yet.

the man refers to steve (captain america) most of the time

also i know the formatting is shit, but ao3 has more space so hopefully it dont look as shit on there