#he keeps going on about how the bread was getting more and more expensive

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

if you were wondering what were the most common spices in 1910's albacete, they were cinammon and clove

[redtsundere-writes]

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 6: Harvest Season

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 5083 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

The cold morning tickled your toes protruding from the blankets that barely covered your body. You curled into a ball as you slept with your five sisters while the sun peeked through the hills of the green valley. They were squashed together like sardines to make the most of the small bed's cramped space. The room in the cabin where they lived was practically empty, they only had a small closet with all their clothes, some stuffed animals for decoration and a semi-transparent white cloth that served as a curtain. You were in your fifth dream when you felt a hand pulling your foot. You snapped your eyes open to see your mother at the end of the bed. 

“Let’s go to the market,” she asked you as you whittled your eyes wide awake. 

You nodded in response so as not to wake your sisters. You carefully slipped out of bed to get dressed in a brown dress, you wore it so much that it already had holes in the skirt. Your mother had sold most of your fancy dresses, so your sisters could buy new ones for the dances they were invited to. Your mother was always obsessed with the idea that one of her daughters would marry a rich man and take them all out of the misery in which they lived. Every morning she used to repeat the same thing: “Up my future princesses because men don't flirt themselves.” You quietly left the room and picked up the old worn-out basket they used to carry the loaf of bread and potatoes they could afford to buy. 

Since your father died a couple of years ago, money was always tight. Your mother, to keep her hopes up and not starve to death, had slowly sold all the furniture in the house. She started with the living room, then the dining room, then her bed and then the decorations. Little by little, they were running out of options. Someone had to sacrifice in the work field, and your mother would not be one of them. 

The sun was barely rising over the green horizon. It was too early to go to the human market, but you just followed your mother without question. The grass crunched under your worn boots and the cool air ruffled your hair. As you walked along the path you had created from the many times you had gone to town, your mother was quieter than usual. She was a hard woman to keep quiet, always having to have an opinion on something. “The mornings are horrible,” “it hasn't rained in months,” “everything is more expensive.” She always prattled on about any topic that crossed her mind, but today she was different. She just looked straight ahead, walked hurriedly and hadn't even wished you good morning. “Maybe she wants some peace,” you thought. You should have realized it at the time. 

You knew you reached the main town when the smell of fish intensified. Every morning, fishermen set out to sell their booty among the busy main streets of the Sukuna kingdom. A place full of humans who were ruled by curses. Since King Sukuna had conquered their lands along with his army more than five hundred years ago, the humans who had already lived there for centuries became easy prey for the hideous deformed monsters. Half of the population was eaten, while the other was left alone as soon as their stomachs were full. The only thing that stopped them from eating more was their own limits. From then on, the curses began to coexist with the humans. Only instead of treating them as equals, it was a cow-butcher relationship. 

Since the curses owned the main town, it was rare to see so many humans walking down the street. They were all heading in the same direction, the gloomy castle of King Sukuna. A striking architectural structure of charcoal color and huge windows with blood-red roses. It was so large that despite being surrounded by towering walls, you could still admire the rest of the castle and its imposing watchtowers. Your astonished gaze kept going up to admire the terrible place. Your eyes could not continue because the top of its towers were hidden among the gray clouds and the vultures flying overhead. 

Unfortunately, they had not arrived at the market but at the gigantic wooden bridge that led into the castle. Several curses in fine armor paraded around the perimeter as you watched two of them lead a lady into the castle. Your breath hitched as you realized what day it was. Today was harvest day. Once a year, King Sukuna asks those who want to work for him to report to the castle and in return their families would be rewarded financially, but everyone knows it's a trap. No one knows exactly what goes on inside the castle, but a tyrant who mistreats his people does not usually offer “work.” All the people know that once you enter his castle, you don't get out. Even though it is known that entering his castle was like entering a torture machine of your own free will. People in need of money or resources send older relatives or children they can't support to get rid of them. 

You dropped the basket in shock at why your mother had only woken you up so early and was so quiet. She was about to sell you. As soon as the basket creaked against the floor, you ran away to avoid your painful fate as the daughter who was betrayed by her mother. You didn't manage to run that far, because two curses pinned you to the ground. You screamed, kicked and twisted your body in failed attempts to escape. Your eyes filled with tears as soon as the curses lifted you off the ground to drag you back to the castle. It was the end, you knew that for a fact. 

“We must part ways, my adorable daughter,” your mother said goodbye without looking you in the eye. 

“Are you really going to sell me to the tyrant? You know what happens to those who enter!” You yelled while tears fell desperately down your cheeks. 

“Don't be like that, you know we need money. The king may be a tyrant, but sometimes he is generous,” she said as he showed you the sack of gold coins the curses give her for you. 

100 gold coins. That was all you were worth. All your years of life equaled a year's worth of food. Not even luxuries, expensive furniture or beautiful clothes. Your mother had traded you to eat one more year without worry. You hang your head in defeat. She was treating you as if you were a nuisance. One more pitiful mouth to feed. 

“I can work at the market, at sea, in mining, in anything!” You protested. 

“How are you going to work there? I educated you as a young lady so you could marry a rich man, and you failed me,” she emphasized, spitting in your face the disappointment she felt. 

Your chest ached, snot was building up in your nose and your eyes were beginning to redden from the hot tears coming from your sad heart. Your head was starting to hurt, you couldn't believe this was happening to you. You were always a good daughter. You were the perfect daughter, polite and compliant. What have you done wrong? The frustration of not being able to do anything was eating you alive.  

“Think of your sisters. With this money, they will be able to buy new dresses to impress rich men. Next week there is going to be a ball, they say King Gojo will be there,” your mother said excitedly. 

“Say goodbye to your mother, we must get you to the castle.” A curse ordered you with a harsh voice. 

“I don't have a mother anymore,” you mumbled between sobs. 

“My sweet daughter, don't be like that…” your mother called you with disappointment. 

“And you no longer have a daughter,” your mother gasped, surprised at the minimum act of rebellion. 

From the time you were a little girl, your parents knew you would be a good girl. You always did everything orderly, knew what to say to stay out of trouble and educated your sisters when they were wrong. You were the perfect daughter in their eyes. The only thing you weren't good at was talking to men. At dances none of them would come up to you and none of them would catch your eye. While the sister next in age to you, Yorozu, danced with almost everyone, you always stood on the sidelines as you watched the night unfold. Your mother always scolded you on the way home for not being good enough to get a husband, but that never mattered to you. You knew inside that someday you would marry a good man who could see your true potential. 

Curses threw you into the parade ground and closed the gate behind you. You felt worse than dirt itself, you wanted to lie on the ground where you belonged. You wished the earth would swallow you up and disappear at that instant, anyway, you had nothing left to fight for. You didn't even have the strength to cry anymore. 

A loud sobbing sound reached your ears, causing you to look up. A little blond boy was crying his eyes out as he desperately searched for his mother. You were in the same situation as him, only you didn't have a little teddy bear to cheer you up. In a place full of old people, no one wanted to pay attention to you. No one had enough energy to soothe the crying of a frightened child. 

You stood up and dusted off your dress. Quietly, you approached the child with a red face from crying. He was dressed in a torn white shirt and dirty overalls. He couldn't have been more than 10 years old. You got down on your knees to stand by his height and wiped away his tears with your thumbs before shaking off his clothes.

“I want my mommy,” the boy shouted as he sniffled. A lump rose in your throat. You wanted the one you used to have too. 

“She'll be back. You just have to be a good boy, alright?” You asked with a weak smile. The boy nodded as he rubbed his watery eyes. “Whatever you do, just behave well and she will come back.”

 “Do you promise me?” he asked you between sobs, raising his little pinky towards you. 

“Of course,” you answered, intertwining his little finger with yours. 

An old woman approached you both. A granny with a cotton head, raisin skin and a sketchy smile, handed him a piece of candy she had in the pocket of her once-white apron. The boy gladly accepted it, forgetting for a second why he was crying in the first place. Children were always easy to please. 

“Poor little boy. He hasn't even started his life, and he's already this lucky,” the old woman whispered to you as you watched him eat the candy and play with his teddy bear perched on the grass. You could only nod in sorrow.

After an hour of waiting and watching the curses hurl more sold humans onto the parade ground. The doors of the gigantic castle opened. A white-haired person with a red stripe and splendid white robes made an appearance along with a scroll under their arm. You stepped in front of the boy to hide him behind you. 

“Welcome to this year's harvest. Thanks to your relatives or communities, you have been chosen as the most useless beings of this year. So the great king Sukuna has decided to give you the opportunity to work for him as servants,” The person began to read the scroll aloud in front of everyone. 

A collective sigh was heard when he read the word “useless”. Most of them, being elderly, already knew that they were only a burden to their families. Therefore, there was no need to stress it further. It was like squeezing lemon on an open wound. 

“As every year, we give those who are completely useless a chance to leave. King Sukuna needs real servants and not stupid dogs.” Along with that announcement, the castle gates opened.

There it was, the door that would lead them to freedom right under their noses. Hearing that, most of them ran towards their escape route, desperate to return home to their loved ones. You took the child in your arms and were about to run away until the thought that the offer was too good to be true settled in your mind. “Those who go in, never come back” you thought. 

“Come on, dear, let's go,” the kind old woman asked you while she pulled you by the arm to escape quickly. 

“If they do this every year, why doesn't anyone come back home?” You asked her. “It's a trap, I can feel it.” The old woman looked at you puzzled at first, but understood your point after processing it for a couple of seconds. She was so blinded by the brilliant exit that she hadn't boasted about it. 

Once the first to escape was about to reach the door, the grille slammed shut. The evil laughter of hundreds of curses echoed through the place like a war chant. In less than a second, a gigantic flock of armored curses began to eat all those who were about to flee. A massacre, desperate screams and blood spraying everywhere. You had never seen anything like it in your life. You knew the curses were evil and ate humans, but you never thought it would be such a disastrous sight. You covered the child’s eyes. The lady covered her face as she realized the hell they had been sent to. 

“Traitor dogs do not deserve to live,” the white-haired person said as soon as no human who had tried to escape was left alive. 

“You were right…” the old woman whispered next to you between silent sobs. 

You looked back at the front of the castle while your eyes were still drowning in tears. The person who was summoning you was glaring at you, as if offended by your mere presence. You looked around, less than half had stayed. The other elders were crying, vomiting and some lucky ones hadn't even turned around to see what was happening. Your arms were shaking from the cold of the morning and the terror that consumed you whole. You squeezed the child against your body to protect it. A little creature was not to blame for being in a place like that. You had to protect him, it was the only way he would have a chance to survive. 

“I congratulate you for surviving the first round. My name is Uraume, and I am the right hand of your king, Sukuna Ryomen,” they introduced themselves in a loud, monotone voice so that we could all hear them. “Next you will introduce yourselves to the king. He will have the final word as to your fate,” they explained before returning to the castle. 

After finishing their feast, the other curses rounded up the survivors to form a line in front of the castle gates. They were sheep being led by shepherds who were also wolves. No one said a word, they only obeyed by bodily proximity to where they were supposed to be. You did not let go of the child at any time, you had already proclaimed yourself as his guardian. Maybe it wasn't the best idea in hell, but you knew it was the right thing to do. You were willing to protect him as if he were one of your little sisters. 

Your beloved little sisters. You hid your face in the little boy's hair so no one would see you cry. Once you entered the castle, you would never leave, either by slavery or death. You would never see your lovely sisters again. You would never see them play, comb each other's hair or sing happily after dinner. You cursed the time when you had grown up and were not woman enough not to marry someone. In your mother's eyes you were a disappointment and were to be discarded. You only prayed internally that your sisters would not have the same fate. Yorozu was only a year younger than you. If she did not marry soon, she too would be sold. 

The survivors passed 5 at a time into the castle. The walls were so thick that they could not hear what was happening on the other side. There were 5 more people left, and it was your turn to pass next to the old woman, who was repeating the same silent prayer several times. The curse at the front of the line signaled the 5 people to pass, making everyone move in sync. 

“The child must enter,” the curse ordered you. 

“But they already let 5 in. It's his turn to go in when I go in,” you defended, holding the little boy tightly. 

The curse smiled maliciously before snatching the child from your hands. The difference in strength was crazy. You managed to grab the child by his white shirt to prevent him from being stolen. The child began to cry out loud because the curse had hooked its claws into his back. The curse pulled harder on the boy, leaving you with only the torn piece of cloth in your hand. As you tried to reach him again, the curse kicked you in the stomach so that you fell to the ground. Your body fell, and your eyes could only watch as the boy was mercilessly thrown along with the others. 

“Just do what they ask you to do!” You shouted at the boy between sobs before another curse kicked you in the face to shut you up. 

The last thing you could see was his face full of tears and snot as you bled from your nose incessantly. The castle doors slammed shut as the curses taunted you. You didn't care what they had to say, you just wanted the child to be okay. The woman you had befriended helped you up as your chest closed, and your eyes hurt from crying. You couldn’t do it anymore. 

After about 10 minutes, the doors opened again. The curse kicked you in the back to get you inside. The old woman and three other old men followed close behind. A servant with a grim face welcomed you and led you into the king's hall. A room filled with luxuries along the walls, costly works, candles bathed in gold foil and glowing obsidian candelabras. It was a pity that the beautiful room was bathed in the dark blood of your kind. The walls were splattered, some candles had been extinguished because of it, and there were several dismembered bodies all over the room. 

Despite being surrounded by light sources, the deepest part of the room was in complete darkness. Where you assumed the throne was supposed to be, there were many curtains that kept the king in the shadows. The only thing you could see was one of his giant feet being struck by the light of a nearby candle. 

The servant asked them to stand in a side row so that the king could get a good view of them all. Once they obeyed, the servant retreated at a brisk pace. Everyone was silent. You could only hear their breaths being disturbed by the situation they were in. Your eyes traveled around the room. The bodies of the discarded individuals were cut into hundreds of cubes, making your blood run cold. It was an extremely perfect job, almost impossible to do. Had the king done that or was someone else in the room with them? You didn't want to see, but it was like a morbid exhibition of what an abominable being could do.

Your eyes roamed around the room in curiosity and terror, until they saw a teddy bear soaked in blood. The teddy bear of the child you swore you would protect. The child's head had been cut off, his eyes had popped out of his skull and were held in place by its corneas, and the rest of his body was completely mutilated into perfect rectangles of flesh. You closed your eyes and clenched your skirt to keep from screaming in despair. The frustration and disappointment in you could not be compared to anything else. You could do nothing to save him. You were pathetic. 

“5… 4…” The king started the countdown. For what? You had no idea. 

You knew you wouldn't have the answer if you asked him because of his reputation as a foul tyrant. You didn't know much about the dastardly king who reigned over the land of your birth, the only thing you knew was that he hated humans more than anything else in the world. You looked around for answers as to what exactly the king wanted. Nothing about the decorations gave you answers, the only thing that kept catching your attention were the bodies. “If he has servants, why are the bodies still here?” you thought the servants would get rid of them before bringing in any more prospects. 

“3…” His deep voice echoed through the walls along with a devilish smile. 

Sukuna watched you comfortably from his large stone throne, hand carved by the best sculptors in the region. He was amused to see your eyes darting everywhere. “What a fool,” you thought disdainfully. Nothing in the room could help you know what to do. 

“2…” You could hear a small smile escape his lips as he approached 0. 

You analyzed the bodies before you and they all met the same characteristic. None of the heads were connected to the rest of the body. Their heads had been cut off before they were mutilated. If none of them had heads, it is because they must have been at the same height, that is, they were standing when their heads were cut off. Standing in front of a tyrant? Complete blasphemy. That was it. That must have been it. 

“¡1!” 

“Get down, ma'am!” you yelled before pulling the lady down to the floor with you so she could kneel. 

You knelt with your head on your hand as a pillow while the other still held the lady's arm. A thin slice rang through the room. It was so fast that you didn't hear a scream or even a whimper, you only heard the bodies of the others in the room fall to the floor under their own weight. The blood of the old man next to you began to trickle down to your fingers. You didn't dare look at the result of what had happened. You were just relieved that you were in one piece. 

“Finally… Someone with manners,” the king uttered with disdain. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it wouldn't go away. “The one in the middle, come closer,” he commanded. You were dead, you sensed it. 

You struggled to your feet and walked towards him without looking his way. You entered his little sacred place in the middle of the dark, but you could see him clearly. His pink legs were gigantic. His thigh was thicker than your legs put together. That already gave you hints of the giant in front of you. Despite being dressed in a large white robe, he still showed enough skin to be considered vulgar. As soon as you approached, his hand took your head easily as if it were a ball, directing your gaze towards him. Your eyes widened at the eerie sight in front of you. A malevolent face split in half that watched you morbidly. His four eyes roamed your body shamelessly. His half-naked body tattooed with different lines astonished you at a closer look.  

“How old are you?” He asked you while he moved your joints with his four arms as if you were a doll he could play with. You answered obediently between stutters. “Tell me, did your husband sell you?” he answered with a mocking tone. 

“I am not married, my king,” Sukuna arched an eyebrow at that response. You decided to elaborate your answer to that reaction. “My mother sold me because I didn't marry.” 

“You are still old enough to get married,” Sukuna said, still not letting go to observe you better. 

He turned and moved you around like a globe to inspect you completely. It's been a long time since I've seen a girl of your age, to be always in the castle or conquering lands, she always sees young men but almost never women. For someone of the lowest possible class, you had your certain charm. Sukuna saw you as if you were a strange doll in an antique store, odd but striking in your own way. 

“We were starving, my king.”

“It shows,” he replied with a certain mocking tone. “You know… I'm not used to seeing girls like you around here. They always send me decrepit old men or children who didn't die in their mother's womb,” he explained, annoyed. 

Despite the terrifying distance and the fact that your heart was pounding a mile a minute, you were glad he wasn't hurting you. He grabbed you by the head as if he were examining a fruit to dictate whether he could eat it or not, but he didn't squeeze you as if he were squeezing you between his claws. 

“I keep the old people because they work the hardest for their daily meal and I kill all the children because I hate how loud they can be.” You quickly realized right there that you never had a chance to save the child. An unruly tear rolled down your cheek, taking a second to mourn the little boy in silence. “So tell me, what should I do with you, kill you outright or give you a chance?” he asked you with a sinister smile. 

“Dying before I live through hell doesn't sound so bad,” you thought pessimistically. What was the point of going on living? Your mother had sold you, and you trusted that your sisters would marry before you, especially Yorozu, so you didn't have to worry about her. You no longer felt you had any value, but you were afraid of dying. That inexplicable, but useless fear left you frozen. Why did you want to keep breathing if you weren't going to live anyway? Your mind couldn't make up its mind. 

“I trust your decision, my king,” you replied in a sigh of surrender. 

Sukuna's smile disappeared, he did not expect that answer. I thought you would beg him for mercy for your life, but you had completely surrendered to him, leaving your fate in his hands. He smiled again, this time, satisfied. 

“Why?” he asked curiously. 

“Because you always have the last word.” 

“Interesting,” He answered before pulling you by the neck to bring you closer to his face. “You are someone special, aren't you?” Sukuna asked with eyes full of interest in you. He had found a gold nugget in a pile of shit. 

Your eyes slowly drifted to his. Have you heard correctly? Had he, an almighty king, called you special? You no longer knew if your heart was pounding from the flattery or being so close to the king. You were so close that you could decipher what he had for breakfast that morning, probably people. 

“Do you know how to cook and clean?” he asked quietly. You just nodded. “Well, you better not let me down,” he reluctantly let you go, making you stumble backwards. “Now get out of here with that old bitch so you get your uniforms,” he ordered with a harsh tone. 

“Thank you, my king. I will not disappoint you,” you thanked him with a weak smile as you bowed several times before retreating from his presence. 

Sukuna couldn't take his eyes off you. You ran to the shocked lady to help her out of the bloody room. She laid her head on her fist as she followed your anatomy. There was something about you that caught her attention. You were submissive, but you were not stupid. You were perceptive, but not rebellious. He liked what you had offered him so far, he just needed to do a little more observing. 

“Thank you very much, thank you, child, you saved my life!” The old woman cried once they left the room into a candle lit hallway. A small smile crept onto your face. You may not have saved the child, but you saved your new friend. “I am forever in debt with you.” 

“No need, ma'am,” you said so as not to make her feel guilty. 

“Mrs. Inoue,” she introduced herself in tears as she bowed politely, you did the same as you let her know your name. 

They both walked until they reached the end of the hallway where the few survivors were. An uncomfortable silence ruled the place. Mrs. Inoue and yourself sat down on a small bench to wait for instructions. Uraume and a group of servants carrying piles of clothes arrived not long after. Sukuna's right hand looked at everyone with disdain as the servants handed out the uniforms to the new servants who would be under her command. “So she survived…” they thought interested of you as you changed out of the old brown dress into the new uniform. 

You lifted the wet apron against the sunlight to check it for any unwanted stains. Your first anniversary as Sukuna's servant was a month away. You couldn't believe that you were about to complete one lap around the sun since you survived the harvest and received your maid's uniform. A long black dress with a contrasting white apron with black boots and a scarf in your hair to keep your hair off your forehead. You returned the apron to the sink to continue washing it by hand with soap and water. A small smile crept in as you realized you had survived the worst, you just hoped you had the same luck for the rest of your life. Now, you could rest for a very deserving week. 

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Masterlist.

[ihareyhis]

Spideys as incorrect quotes pt2

Hobie: *Kicks the door down*

Pavitr: What did you do?

Hobie: Nobody died.

Pavitr: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

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Miguel: What do you call disobeying the law?

The Squad: A hobby.

Miguel: *crosses their arms*

The Squad: That we do not engage in

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Pavitr: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this?

Hobie: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.

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Pavitr, pointing at Hobie: Are they a Freak (derogatory)?

Pavitr, pointing at Gwen: Or a Freak (affectionate)?

Miles: Why not both?

Pavitr, to Miles: You’re so right, Freak

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Pavitr: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?

Hobie: *crouches down*

Gwen: *kneels down*

Miles: *sits on the floor*

Pavitr: I hate you all

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Miles: How do Hobie and Pavitr usually get out of these messes?

Gwen: They don't. They just make a bigger mess that cancels the first one out.

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Gwen: Hey Pavitr.

Pavitr: *punches Gwen in the stomach*

Gwen: What the fuck?

Pavitr: You are one of my very best friends. And I cannot stand by and watch you throw away your life like this. You're too young....YOU'RE TOO BEAUTIFUL!

Gwen: What the fuck are you talking about?

Pavitr: I'm talking about the baby that's growing inside of your belly right now.

Gwen: I'm not pregnant!

Pavitr: Well, not after that punch you're not. I've been taking muay thai classes.

Gwen: I was never pregnant, Pavitr!

Pavitr: Are... you sure?

Gwen: Yes I'm fucking sure!

Hobie: I'm sorry, but why the fuck is everybody yelling over here?

Pavitr: Oh, I found this positive pregnancy test and—

Hobie: *punches Gwen in the stomach*

Gwen: AW, MOTHERFU–

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Gwen: Today at 7 am, Pavitr poured a Monster energy drink in his coffee, said "I'm going to die" and drank the whole thing.

Hobie: I watched him brew his coffee with Monster instead of water. Three cups in two hours. I think he ascended into the astral realm.

Miles: The survivability of the human race never fails to amaze me

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Miles: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them. Any suggestions?

Pavitr: Put spaghetti in it.

Miles: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you.

Hobie: Put spaghetti in it.

Miles: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you two.

Gwen: Put spaghetti in it.

Miles: I am no longer taking suggestions.

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Pavitr: What’s up with Gwen? she’s been laying on the floor for like….an hour now?

Hobie: She’s just a little overwhelmed.

Pavitr: Why?

Hobie: Miles smiled at her.

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Hobie, Gwen & Miles: *screaming*

Pavitr: *runs into the room* Miles whats wrong?!

Hobie: Wait, why are you asking Miles that when Gwen and I are also here?

Pavitr: Because Miles wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

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Hobie: What’s your biggest fear?

Gwen: That I’ll never be good enough for anyone.

Miles: Everyone hates me and talks about me behind my back.

Pavitr: Zombies.

Gwen: ...

Miles: ...

Pavitr: BUT they can open doors.

[specialagentlokitty]

Rossi x reader - a few more minutes

Could you do fic for David Rossi with wife reader? She surprises him by visiting him at the office. With David going away on a case , it felt like there was not enough time for them. Just something fluff and romantic. Add something else if you want to. Tag me later!! Thanks!! :)) - @pear-1206 💜

Stepping out of the elevator, you made your way through the bullpen, past all the desks and up the stairs to the office you were looking for.

It wasn’t often you came by his work, but sometimes when he had been especially busy you wanted to come make the day a little easier.

You knocked on the door before gently pushing it open, a wide smile spreading across your lips as you saw him look up.

“Hey tesoro, why are you here?”

Rossi got up, meeting you halfway across the room to hug you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Smiling, you rested your head on his chest.

“Well, you’ve been so busy I wanted to make sure you were eating so, I brought food.”

You pulled away, holding out the bag for him to take and look inside.

“Oh darling, you are wonderful!”

Rossi beamed brightly, taking your face gently between his hands as he leant down to kiss you.

Smiling into the kiss, you placed your hands on his, leaning into him a little bit just before he managed to pulled away.

“You made me muffins?” He asked.

“Oh and bread! I was bored, and I wanted to try something new, and I thought maybe Penelope would like the fact it’s purple.”

“You made purple bread?” Rossi chuckled.

He turned his attention to the bag, taking out the muffins you made and set them on the table.

Then he took out some bread and it was in fact a pastel purple.

“It’s lavender bread! It doesn’t actually taste like lavender don’t worry, but it does slightly smell like it, it’s fully safe to eat.” He beamed.

He chuckled a little bit, smiling softly at you.

“You really are something else my dear.”

Rossi pulled his chair out, letting you sit down on it, and he sat in the desk, handing you a muffin.

You split it in half with him, handing him one half while you kept the other half to yourself.

“Is this how you’ve been keeping busy?”

You hummed a little bit, nodding your head.

“Yeah, the bakery is still under repairs.”

“Do you have a quote for the costs?”

“Yeah, kind of expensive but insurance will cover most of it, I can get a loan for the rest.”

“Absolutely not.”

You looked at your husband a little bit confused.

Rossi reached through his pockets, looking for his wallet and he finally found it, holding it out to you.

“You use this, and you cover whatever costs you need to for your bakery, do you understand? I don’t want to hear anything about you taking out a loan. What’s mine is yours, we agreed on this.”

You took his wallet, setting it down on his desk.

“Sweetheart I can’t do that.”

“You can and you will, I’ll have you know that no wife of mine will be taking out a loan with a bank when I have money I don’t even spend.”

Rossi held his hand out to you, and you placed your hand carefully in his, letting him bring it up so he could kiss your knuckles.

“I will cover everything so whatever you need you tell me.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

Rossi gave a short hum.

“I’m afraid not, this isn’t an option.”

You laughed a little bit and stood up, placing your forehead on his.

“I love you…”

“I love you too.”

There was a knock on the door and you pulled away, both of you turning to see who it was and you watched as JJ poked her head around the corner.

“(Y/N), hey!”

JJ walked over, hugging you before pulling away.

“I’m sorry Rossi but we’ve got a case.”

He nodded his head, walking over and he placed a hand on your shoulder, walking around you.

He brushed his knuckles against your cheek.

“I’m sorry (Y/N)…”

“Hey, it’s alright. I understand, go, I’ll take this to Penelope after.”

He smiled, leaning forward to meet you for a quick kiss.

“I’ll still be around before you leave.”

“I’ll find you.”

He gave you a quick kiss, kissing your forehead, and he pulled away, kissing the side of your head.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Dave now go before you’re late.”

He chuckled and nodded, leaving his office and you sat down on his chair again while you waited for him to come back even if it was for a few moments

[b0g-b0y]

Part2 requested

Simon ghost x m reader shadow company

Been sitting on this one because I didn’t like it.

As days go by and refusing to see Simon daily. It was time that Y/n could check out of the hospital but the Doctor would have preferred him to stay longer , y/n couldn’t stand the white room he couldn’t stand to hear the crows in the garden he felt as if they were laughing at his expense. He felt bitter. Y/n held his bag tightly as he walked out of the hospital. “ You shouldn’t be out yet.” A gruff voice spoke. Y/ns hand twitched. “ Out of all the people in the world I don’t want to see you the most.” Y/n spat out. “ You don’t mean that love. You said you loved me more, I know I’m in your heart still can’t push me out that fast. I know you Y/n did you forget?” Simon chuckled softly. “Piss off. Simon I don’t want to see you, you buried whatever we had that’s on you! Not me I gave you loyalty and for what, to be put down like a damn dog you didn’t want anymore you put the dog to sleep, don’t lie to me I’m just a pet you couldn’t keep. I’m not stupid Simon.” Y/n spoke.

Simon's dark brown eyes looked at the small man in front of him. Y/n was right, hell he always was. “ I can’t prove to you anything… but I’m your ride back to base.” Simon spoke. “ Absolutely not, I’ll walk!” Y/n grumbled out. This caused Simon to let out a laugh, a real laugh, something that isn’t often heard; it felt like music to Y/n's ears. “ You’re as stubborn as the day I met you mate. You're not walking 30 miles.” Simon said with warmth in his eyes. You hated how Simon was right, you couldn’t walk that. “ I’m driving.” Y/n finally spoke. “ No.” Replied Simon. “ You are the worst driver in the world Mr Reily there is no way I’m letting you drive!” Y/n argued back. “ Too bad, I got your Dr notes and I got orders to drive and Graves said not to let you drive “ Simon smirked through his mask. “ I hate you.” Y/n grumbled out.

The car ride was silent. Y/n wanted to be mad at Simon for everything he did, but every petty argument brought a little bit of warmth into his heart. It wasn’t even five minutes into the drive before Simon spoke.” You almost hit a buck once. You're supposed to hit it, not swerve out of the way.” Y/n was baffled that Simon remembered that, how did he remember something from one of their first assignments together. “ At least I know how to drive!” Y/n shot back. Simon rolled his eyes, but he knew he was getting back into Y/n's heart and the anger phase had ended. Unfortunately he was left with the sassy phase.

The car pulled into a small clearing that was almost a park. “ Why did we stop?” Y/n asked. “ Come on.” Simon spoke as he grabbed a bag. With curiosity Y/n followed. There was a large pond with ducks. Simon pulled out a loaf of bread and offered Y/n some as he started to throw small bits of bread at the birds. Y/n let out a huff Simon knew he loved animals it was his biggest weakness. They sat in silence as the birds quacked and raced to get to the bread. “ You're not a dog.” Simon spoke.” No shit.” Y/n replied. Simon let out a sigh “I meant that, you’re not a dog you’re not Graves damn dog… When Graves gave the order to hunt 141 down you let me go, you’re a good man. You should have killed me.” Simon said softly. “ I can’t kill you… I can’t hate you no matter how much I should. I hate that I love you.” Y/n spoke as he finished feeding the ducks. “ I know. And I might love you back.” Simon said as he put the now empty bag of bread in his pocket.

They were in the car again. It would be an hour drive.” I promise you won’t die alone, that’s a promise I won’t break. Let’s start over not as lovers or someone to warm a bed but like we used to be.” Simon said. “ like how I wouldn’t stop talking about every useless fact I knew and bother the hell out of until you were annoyed enough to talk back?” Y/n spoke. Simon chuckled.” No, let's go back to before we slept together. Let's start fresh we’re we would lay down and talk about things we wanted to do.” Simon said as he looked at the road.” Like when I told you I wanted to garden? You know it never grew. Was away too much to tend to it.” Y/n confessed. “ Yeah I remember you telling me how you used to garden as a young lad.” Simon spoke.

They sat in comfortable silence for the drive back and Y/n had somewhat forgiven the Brit. Y/ns e/c started to close all the bumps in the road and the long drive had eased him into a sleep. He was going home.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Risk It All Part 4/6

⚠️Warning ⚠️

+18

Reader gets pregnant by Ruben. Although the two are not together Ruben promises to support her through the pregnancy, eventually letting reader stay with him until the child is born.  (This fic includes alot of angst and serious topics)

Enjoy!

You were married to Ruben.

Six months had gone by and following those six months your life was now unrecognizable. After a business like wedding with only one witness present, you were now Mrs Dias, swept into a life of luxurious parties and unwanted media attention, all whilst carrying your first child.

"You're gonna catch a cold."

"It's what I'm hoping for."

Ruben found you on the roof top balcony, hiding from your duties. Elena, the director of your life, would want you inside, shaking people's hands, talking about how excited you and Ruben were to bring new life into this world.

"Y/N, please come inside."

Ruben was better than you at playing along. He didn't mind lying to his friends, lying about how you two met and "decided" to keep your relationship private from the world. They all ate it up, even Ruben's family.

"I wanna go back to the hotel." You said, wrapping your arms around yourself to mend the nights cold. Ruben sighed, but took it upon himself to remove his tuxedo jacket, draping it over your shoulders. "We will, in time. The auction isn't over yet."

"And all the ice cream you can eat." Ruben smiled, grabbing your hand as he led you back inside. He kept his promise, of course. During your time living together you had come to learn that Ruben was no liar, even when the truth hurt sometimes.

It was a charity event in London, the money going to a good cause. However you had no idea why rich people had the need to dress up in expensive items costing more money than what they were actually donating.

"Do you promise to buy me Shawarma when we do leave?" You asked, pouting your lips and batting your eyelashes.

"Wait for me while I get the car." He said, leaving you and Elena sitting on the top of a set of concrete steps, enjoying your Shawarmas.

"He really cares about you." Elena said, unprovoked. "My job would be much more difficult if he didn't."

"Thanks." You mumbled, too busy enjoying your declicious food. The growth of your belly also followed the growth of your appetite, something that caused you to gain a bit of extra pregnancy weight.

"Ruben told me to make sure that you get a nice settlement once the two of you divorce."

You snorted. "How nice of him."

The two of you were literally playing house, getting married only to divorce a minimum of two years after the baby was born. If it wasn't for the security your life with Ruben offered, you would have never agreed to go through with any of it. I mean, you were literally playing with your own life, all because Ruben had a precious image of himself to preserve.

"That's us."

Elena stood, seeing Ruben's Mercedes coming your way. You made the effort to stand up as well, but lost your footing as the weight of your belly tampered with your balance.

"Dear god!" Elena gasped, as you came flying behind her, taking a tumble down the concrete steps.

"My Shawarma." You groaned.

"Y/N!"

Ruben was out of the car and rushing to your side before Elena had managed to. "Fuck, are you okay?" He didn't touch you,  afraid to do more damage as you stood on all fours, a hand wrapped around your belly.

"Y/N, please tell me you're okay?"

"I wasn't finished." You cried, a sad sight seeing the neatly wrapped bread now splatter on the ground before you.

"She needs to got to the hospital Ruben." Elena heels clicked as she descended the steps, reaching the bottom of them. "Now!"

"I'm fine." You reassured, but struggled to get up from the ground by yourself. Ruben's strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you up with one swoop.

"At least let someone check her out." Elena suggested.

"I promise, I'm all good." You said, trying to laugh it off.

It was as busy as any emergency in a big city. People from everywhere came with broken limbs and bleeding wounds to tend. For this you felt guilty that Ruben managed to convince a doctor to prioritize you. "Well, you seem fine to me Mrs Dias." The doctor stepped away from the stool on which you sat, removing his rubber gloves to make a few notes on his computer. "Has there been any unusual activity since your fall, like the baby moving around more than usual?"

"No." Ruben said, determined. "I'll take you to the emergency room." It was the urgency in his voice and the way his hands trembled as he still held to support you. "Okay." You nodded, agreeing to let Ruben take you to the nearest emergency room.

You bit your lip, pondering his question.  "Um, no. I don't think so. It doesn't really do that."

The doctor turned back from his computer, a deep frown on his face as he looked at you. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"The baby." You shrugged. "It doesn't move around. Or at least I haven't felt it kick yet."

The doctor turned to Ruben, the two of them sharing the same terrified gaze.

"What?" You frowned.

The doctor stood, retrieving another pair of gloves as well as calling for a nurse to assist him.

"What's going on?" You asked, uncertainty in your voice.

"Mrs Dias, it says you're six months pregnant."

"Yes, and?"

The doctor and his nurse worked together to rearrange his office, bringing in a monitor that looked like a tv screen on wheels. "Prepare for an emergency ultrasound. Patient is six months pregnant but has failed to notice any signs of life from the fetus."

"Doctor please, tell me what's going on. Is my baby going to be alright?" Things were moving fast, as well as your heart rate. You knew that things were serious when the nurse started attaching clips to your finger tips, setting up a graphic to show your pulse. Whilst all of this was going on the doctor had you lay on a medical table, pulling up your shirt as to expose your belly. "This might feel cold." He said, the only warning before rubbing a cooling gel across your stomach.

"Ruben." You flinched, practically panicking now.

"Hey, I'm here." He said, grabbing a hold of your hand, squeezing it to reassure you.

Your eyes traveled to the ceiling, the blinding lights causing tears to slid down the side of your face. You gasped as pressure was applied to your stomach, the doctor moving around with his tools. However, you were to afraid to look and confirm this.

"Ultrasound begins." The doctor said, speaking to his nurse. "We have a visual of the fetus...Everything looks fine. Let's move on to localizing the heartbeat..."

You tilted your head as Ruben grip around your hand tightened. He looked focus, brows furrowed as his eyes were fixated on the little TV screen. The suspens was killing you. What if something was wrong with your....

"Hearbeat located." The doctor said,  followed by a collective sigh from both Ruben and the nurse. You, however was still trembling all over.

"Congratulations Mrs Dias, you and your husband await a beautiful baby girl."

********************************************

You returned to the hotel room around midnight. Ruben was still on the phone with Elena as you went to wash up. Only when you were halfway asleep did you feel a dip in the bed that you shared.

"Ruben?"

He krept closer, doing something that the two of you had never done before. "I'm here." He said, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close.

"Why are you shaking?" Your eyes flung open, turning around in order to face him. Your heart sank once you saw the exhaustion in his face, the remaining terror in his eyes. "Ruben?" Your hands went to caress his cheek, but he jerked away, not wanting to be consoled.

"Ruben?"

He sat up and you followed.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head, burring his face in his hands as if he suddenly suffered a severe headache.

"Ruben, please. You're scaring me." You scooted closer,  desperate to be near him, to touch him. However he jerked away once more, refusing to be touched. It broke your heart, seeing him this way.

"I thought I...." He mumbled. "I thought I lost..."

"Oh Ruben, the baby is okay. Everything is gonna be okay." You didn't care if he refused to be touched, you couldn't take it, leaping forwards to pull him close. However Ruben caught you in motion, grabbing your hands just as you were about to touch him. The room was dark but Ruben eyes were visible in the moonlight. They were shimmering,  shimmering with his tears. He pressed his lips together, uttering the words through gritted teeth. "No Y/N, I could have lost you." Your heart fluttered, eyes fixated on him and only him. He surrendered, lowering your hands so that they rested on each side of his face. "I could have lost you." He whispered, shifting his head a little so that your hand covered a part of his mouth, his lips soft beneath the palm of your hands. "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you Y/N."

"You won't lose me Ruben. Not me or the baby."

"Fuck."

He looked up, eyes wide. The palm of your hand still covered his mouth, however his intentions were not to speak. He kissed it, the center of your hand, moving on to kiss the back of it, tracing the kisses all the way up towards your forearms, railing you in. You gasped once he had you pressed flush, against him, his head buried in the crease of your neck. He inhaled your scent,  preserving it in his memory. "Ruben." You groaned. The heat of the moment capturing you too. You knew that you wanted this, you've always wanted this. "I want you Ruben." The words were whispered against the smooth skin below his ear. Ruben responded with a low grunt made deep down in his throat. And then his hand slipped between the sheets in search for an opening.

Your back arched, to the sensation of him, Ruben's fingers, making their way down your damped panties.

"Say you want me Y/N." He huffed. "Say you want me forever."

"I want you Ruben, forever."

It was all that needed to be said. No further words were spoken as the movments between you synchronized into something fluid, a liquid of some sort. A liquid of love. Yes, it was the only to describe it. The two of you were in love.

[suzukiblu]

Day two NaNoWriMo; obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

"Well, you are the plan guy," Kon says, grinning again and pushing his sunglasses up into his hair. "Supreme?" 

"Works for me," Tim says. It's meat and dairy and bread and vegetables and Kon is probably invulnerable to heart disease, so he figures that's basically health food to him, right? Especially if he needs more calories than the average guy. 

Pizza's sure as shit gonna be more satisfying than a protein bar, if nothing else. 

Tim's definitely ordering like, breadsticks or wings or something too. And maybe a two-liter or two. Cinnamon bread. Something. Hell, he'll buy all that and then some if he has to. He's got the money. 

Who the hell decided it was okay to let this happen? Really. Is there literally no responsible adult in Kon's life to intervene in this situation? Dubbilex was made by Cadmus too and has his own issues with managing to have an out-of-lab life, Rex Leech is apparently out of the picture, which might be a blessing anyway, Tana Moon is equally MIA, and Superman has apparently lost his entire damn mind, so . . .

There's literally no responsible adult in Kon's life to intervene in this situation, is there. There's no irresponsible adult in Kon's life to intervene in this situation. As far as Tim knows, every single other one Kon knows is either Cadmus-employed or a supervillain or just completely uninvested in his existence. 

Maybe Tim should be talking to Red Tornado about this. Is this something he should be talking to Red Tornado about?

. . . sure, that'd help. Red Tornado is about five minutes back into being a person and has Traya and Kathy and the whole team to worry about, and absolutely could handle something like this while also trying to figure out his own shit and keep an eye on all the rest of them too. Sure. That'd work. 

This is a problem, Tim thinks. 

This is a definite problem, in fact. 

He has no idea what to do about this problem, though, so he just orders a truly inadvisable amount of pizza and wings and double-iced cinnamon bread for pickup. They've done weirder than get takeout in the Super-Cycle and they'll do weirder again. Besides, it could use the . . . exercise, or whatever that counts as. Not like the Super-Cycle has muscles, but it does get tired sometimes and seem to appreciate getting out and–well, whatever. That's just something to figure out later, probably. 

Tim really should figure that out, though. And also if the Super-Cycle is gonna be down for going supervillain, because yeah, that's obviously a thing to keep in mind. 

He flies it to the pizza joint, and spends the flight casually grilling Kon about his coworkers and employee benefits and the Cadmus security systems. The answers are: a lot of lab-born clones and too many grown-ass adults who have no excuse not to know better, work-related health care and nothing else, and Kon and Guardian, mostly. And also some random weird death traps and a couple of cameras here and there, apparently, but it all sounds incredibly dated to Tim's ears and it really seems like Kon and Guardian are taking on the lion's share of everything more complicated than watching a feed or flipping on an alarm system. Like, it really does. 

So that's not great. 

"Jesus, man, how much did you order?" Kon snorts with a laugh while Tim's paying the girl at the drive-up window in cash. He doesn't really want to explain this particular expense on the Bat credit card. Generally he doesn't want to explain takeout and junk food on there at all, in fact, though obviously he makes a point of going to Batburger with Steph once a month, just to hear Bruce sigh about it later. Appropriate teenage nonsense and all. He gets the kids' meal and the terrifyingly purple Spoiler shake every time. It tastes like acidic cotton candy. Yes, literally. "Like just the whole menu or what?" 

"Of course I did. I've got a Kryptonian to carry it all for me, don't I?" Tim replies with a smirk he doesn't really feel after everything he's learned today. Everything Kon just told him, because he doesn't see what's wrong with any of it. 

It reminds him of the abused kids he meets on the job who insist they're fine, and they don't need Batman and Robin to save them. 

He wonders if Jason was like that, when Bruce first met him. 

He also wonders if he maybe did over-order a little on the pizza, but worst case scenario the leftovers should fit in the fridge. 

. . . maybe, anyway. Probably. 

Mostly? 

Kon immediately cracks into the cinnamon bread on the flight back because he has absolutely no manners whatsoever, and Tim rolls his eyes at him and tries not to visibly brood over the five-alarm fire burning down his brain right now. 

He just . . . doesn't understand how Superman is apparently just fine with this situation. He doesn't even understand how Kon is fine with this situation, but is increasingly certain that the answer to that might just be that Kon doesn't think he has another option. 

He doesn't have another option, as far as Tim can tell. What would he do, crash at the base and just mooch off everyone else for food and gear and whatever else he needs day-to-day? 

Yeah, not exactly a sustainable lifestyle, that. 

Not even a little bit of one. 

Technically, Tim could just pay for whatever Kon needed, between his allowance and his trust fund and without even taking his Bat-stipend into account, but there is no possible way Kon would ever actually go for that. He's way too proud, and even someone with no pride at all would probably find "please let me pay you to quit your horrible job" a hard pill to swallow from a teammate, much less the leader they only barely recognize the authority of.

[megustacat]

The MCL:NG Love Interests as the 5 Love Languages

Devon Okere - Words of Affirmation

Devon loves to let you know on every occasion how much he adores you.

When he sees you doing well, he lets you know, always painting pretty word pictures whenever he can.

When he sees you struggling he manages to put your pain in a few words, so the problem suddenly seems manageable.

When he sees you enjoying yourself he makes sure it gets even better.

He has a deep voice and he always knew how much his voice and words had an impact on other people. Whenever he notices that are being stressed, he makes you sit down with him and tells you just how good you are, how hard you work, how much he loves, how wonderful it is being around you, how good it feels to hold you. All in this beautiful, intriguing, deep, deep voice of his.

You didn’t know how much you could enjoy the simplest things, when they are accompanied by a man who knows what you like to hear - and will give it to you whenever he can.

Amanda De Lavienne - Quality Time

Amanda is a woman of efficiency. She is well-structured and organized to get the best out of every single minute. 

At times you feel like nothing can be good enough for her - besides you. 

The time she spends with you might be one of the only times you have seen her completely unwind and without a hurry. 

There is nothing in this world more important than taking her time being around you. Together you love to plan trips, have dedicated one-on-one time just talking about your day and spend days after days cuddled up, enjoying each other's presence. Being around you is a possibility to slow down for her and you cannot imagine anything more beautiful than seeing her lovely smile every time you two get to be together. Looking in her eyes, feeling the peace you two create for each other, knowing that this is going to stay - this right here, this will be forever. Because you will make it last forever.

Jason Mendal - Gifts

As much as Jason loves to be a receiver to whatever he sees reasonable, he first and foremost lives to be a giver. 

He loves to gift you beautiful clothes or take you out to expensive dinners. Not only that, but you can also expect a new fresh bouquet of flowers around you, or other little trinkets you can take with you anywhere you go. 

Jason wants to gift you memories and reminders to make you think of him - whether he is around you or not. 

That satin on your skin? Reminds you of him.

That golden bracelet around your wrist? Reminds you of him.

The lingering taste of expensive champagne, making you love-drunk? Reminds you of him.

The pictures from your latest trip? Remind you of him.

The love bites all over your neck and thighs? Remind you of him.

Gifts and memories, lasting and fading. But always present. Just like him.

Thomas Rheault - Acts of Services

As someone of not many words Thomas lets his actions speak for him. 

Before properly getting to know each other Thomas seemed less than eager to do something for you if he wasn’t asked to do so.

That changed.

You notice a hot cup of coffee next to your bed when you wake up and a bag of fresh bread in the kitchen. He has already been up and running. For you. 

He is always so thoughtful, observing would you say, what you like, what makes you laugh, turning your words into his actions. 

It makes his heart beat faster everytime you thank him for what he does for you - you acknowledging all that makes it worth doing it again. And again. And again. And again … 

Roy Aquino - Physical Touch

Roy is an overall very physical man. Not only is movement and keeping himself physically in shape a huge point of his life, but also showing you physical affection is important to him. 

Whenever you’re around him he loves to give you small touches on the back, hold your hand, pressing occasional kisses onto your hair. He loves to hold you, feel you, smell you, hear and see you. Roy’s love is all about senses and just as sensational. 

As for him, you know how much he likes it when you return his actions. Playing with his hair and holding him, whenever he feels like that. He loves massages, giving them and receiving them. Public display of affection has never been a problem to him, the world should know that his heart belongs to you.

Every touch between you is electric and fiery and very easily addictive. So whenever you think of his hands on your skin, his lips on yours, his body pressed against you, he does so, too. Your body is a temple to him, and he is your worshiper.

[dira333]

If I’m not too late for the most recent game I’m going to say Kisame 24!

The plotbunny game is always ongoing, so there's never a "too late"! Thanks for calling in!

Your prompt: Lonely water, won't you let us wander (how fitting!)

Lonely Water - Kisame x Reader

The ground is slick from recent rain as you run, the mist swallowing all color.

"Wait for me!" You call out with the annoyance only a five-year-old can muster, "Kisame!!"

"You're too slow!" He grinds out only moments later when his arm shoots out from your right, pulling you down a narrow alley.

"I'm not!"

"Are too!"

You huff and try to step on his foot, but he moves out of the way just in time.

“Come on,” he grumbles, clearly annoyed, “We’re going to be late.”

-

It’s not easy growing up in Kirigakure. But it helps to be a child, quick on your feet and small enough to get into all the spaces grown-ups can no longer slip through.

There’s work at the docks for children, but you have to come at the right time and know the right people if you want to keep the money that you earn.

Kisame’s good at that. He’s taller than most of the children your age, so he’s not good for most of the work, but the fishermen are afraid of him and the Shinobi let him get away with almost everything. 

“Here,” he pushes you toward one of the older ships, “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

-

There used to be a time when your father didn’t want you playing with Kisame. Back then you still had money, a nice house, and people working for you instead of the other way around. But father got into fights with the wrong people. One day he just never came home.

-

“What’s a nice girl like you doing at the docks?” The guy asking has no teeth left. His gums have turned grey and his eyes have turned cold. You press yourself against the walls, well aware of the small sum of money that’s hidden in your pocket. The captain of this ship pays fairly, even though it’s never enough for the amount of work, never enough for the rising prices.

“Hands of my girl!” Kisame snarls from behind you, teeth bared. The threat is effective.

He guides you down the dock and up the streets, through the market where you buy a loaf of discounted bread and a few small fish. It eats up most of your earnings, but Kisame’s hand is warm around yours, his grip strong and self-assured. Everything will be okay.

- - -

The rich women of Kirigakure love their luxuries. Expensive dresses, expensive food, and, most importantly, cosmetics made from the finest ingredients.

It had been Kisame’s idea to get you into a pharmacy family when you didn’t show any signs of talent for the Shinobi traits. 

You’re good at this kind of work, and it pays well. Well, enough to feed Kisame and you. If he keeps rising in the ranks like this, making more and more with each mission, there might be something like a future for the two of you. If he thinks like that of you, that is?

-

You’ve barely turned sixteen when he steals you from your bedroom one night, whisks you out of the village in a heartbeat. He’s gotten taller, broader in the shoulders, wears a proud smirk even when there’s nothing to be proud about - you’ve heard about the Chunin Exams. “Where are we going?” You ask, breathless. He’s too handsome for his own good, his light can’t be dimmed by neither nightfall nor mist.

“To the water.” He urges until you hit the shore, freezing cold water running over your toes.

“What’s going on?” You ask, hand curling around his. You don’t want him to let go. But he does.

“Nothing,” he insists, looking up at the stars, “I just can’t breathe properly in the village. I need to be out of that damned mist.”

You laugh. “You’re lying. Something’s up.”

He grins at that. “Fine, you caught me. I got promoted.”

“Really?!” You press your hands to your lips before they can do foolish things, like take a hold of him.

“Really! I’m working directly under Fuguki! If everything goes well, I might be a member of the Seven Swordsmen too, soon.”

“And then?” You ask, regretting the words the moment they spill from your lips.

“What do you mean?” Confusion draws over his face like clouds over the moon. 

“I-I mean, I… what do you plan to do… when you reach that?”

“Well, be rich and famous, I guess.” He shrugs. “I don’t know how much they’re paid per mission, but I guess if I saved a little, it wouldn’t be too hard to buy a house. You could come by and cook for me then.”

Something cold and uncomfortable wedges itself into your heart. Your lips move on their own again.

“Wouldn’t I live with you then?” 

You’re painfully reminded that Kisame is a Shinobi. He freezes, face completely still, but you know his mind is running a mile a minute just by the way he fixates on you. That’s how he used to look at the fishermen, trying to figure out who to avoid and who to trust.

You know he’s figured you out when he speaks up.

“Listen,” he says, “We’re friends. We grew up side by side, but if you want to have a husband and a little cozy house, I’m not the man for you.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you rush to say. It’s a lie. Kisame’s always been able to tell when you were lying, but this time he’s not calling you out on it. 

When he takes you back to your room shortly after, he does not look back when he leaves and you wonder if you’ll ever see him again. 

- - -

Kisame Hoshigaki is a name known by all and feared by many. 

They praise his loyalty, ready to slaughter all his comrades to keep the village safe. 

It’s been almost two years since that day at the shore so you’re a little surprised to find him in your bedroom once again.

“Hey,” you’ve learned to go along with his antics long ago, so don’t scream when you find him slumped over your bed late at night, the bandages around his arm an ugly shade of red.

“Hey.” He grinds out. “Long time no see.”

“Whose fault is that?” You ask, unable to keep yourself from being a little petty.

He does not apologize, not that you expected him to. 

“Did you get hurt?” You step up to him, hands reaching for the bandages. He moves away before you can reach him, his eyes boring holes into you.

“Why are you always nice to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You ask back. 

“You don’t owe me anything, okay? I kept you safe, but you kept me fed. We’re even.”

“I know Kisame,” you insist, voice softer than it probably needs to be, “I’m not doing this because I owe you.”

“Then why?”

Your hands clench and unclench next to you, your heart heavy in your chest. You don’t want to say it, but what good does it bring to keep it in when he already knows anyway?

“I love you,” the words hang heavy in the air, “Love cares. Just because.”

Kisame buries his face in your bedding at that, body stiff as a board. You give him a minute to gather himself, to leave or do something else, but he doesn’t. When you reach for the bandages this time, he lets you.

When it’s time for you to sleep, he still hasn’t moved. Gingerly, you slip into bed next to him. He rolls a bit to the side so you can properly get under your blanket, face blank of any emotion. But his good arm comes out to pull you close as soon as you’re under the blanket. 

Kisame doesn’t apologize nor does he address the topic at hand. But you should have known that that’s not something he would do.

- - -

The sky is clear for once, the ever present mist retreating from the shore.

The sand is cold underneath you, but you’re not willing to budge. 

Something’s bothering Kisame, enough to drag you here. His knee is pressed against yours, the only form of touch he allows outside of the walls of your bedroom. His skin is warm and reassuring even though his silence is not.

“Do you ever feel stuck in place?” He asks suddenly, his voice barely above louder than the waves crashing.

“Sometimes,” you admit. “But I guess for different reasons than you.”

“What are yours?”

“There’s this guy I love and I guess he likes me too,” his lips quirk up, just a little, “but he won’t allow it to be official. So we have to hide in my bedroom when all I want is to hold his hand and make him breakfast and lunch and dinner.” You rest your head on your knees and look out onto the water, “What are your reasons?”

“There’s this girl that I love,” he admits, voice barely quivering at the last word. You force yourself not to look at him, but your knee presses harder against his. “And I want to give her a life that she deserves, a life that she had growing up. Where there’s food on the table everyday and she doesn’t have to worry that I won’t come home one day. Where our kids won’t have to fight for their life and people are honest to each other.”

“But?”

He sighs. 

“But I fear we can’t have that life in Kirigakure.”

You swallow against the tears that are threatening to fall.

The waves keep crashing, like they’re stuck too, forced to come in again and again and again.

“Lonely water,” you sigh out the prayer your mother tought you, “Lonely water, won't you let us wander? Let us hold each other.”

Strong arms pull you in until your head is resting against his chest, his heartbeat loud and steady in your ear.

“Will you leave with me?” Kisame whispers into your ear.

You listen to his heartbeat that’s as steadfast as the waves and close your eyes.

“Yes.”

[tenswrld]

soup!

mark lee x reader, super fluffy bc this is my literal bf and he makes me want to cry 25/8

a/n: mark brainrot has been so bad lately the delusions are getting to me

“where do you wanna go for lunch today?” you asked your boyfriend, who was currently mindlessly scrolling through his phone. 

it was mark’s day off from his tour, leaving you and him to explore chicago on your own. like the lovely significant other you are, you decided to treat mark out for lunch as a way to reward him for all the hard work that he’s been doing.

“uhm,” he thought for a second before letting out an awkward laugh. “i don’t really know what’s around here.”

you thought about taking him somewhere fancy; somewhere where you could proudly treat your boyfriend to expensive ass food (even if it did leave you and your wallet crying by the end of the night) because, to you, mark deserved nothing but the absolute best. thus, you began to search for some of the more famous spots in chicago. a curious hum from your lover quickly interrupted you and caught your attention.

“johnny was talking about this one place he used to go to all the time,” he trailed off, trying to remember the name. “it’s, like, a bakery...?”

“a bakery...” you mumbled to yourself, smiling at the idea. “that would be cute!”

“i think it was called panera...?” mark sat up, ready to call johnny to confirm if his memory was correct. “yeah, i’m pretty sure that’s what it was called.”

you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “you want to go to panera?”

mark smiled at the sound of your laughter and turned to look at you. “yeah, i’m down! i want to see what johnny was raving about.”

“it’s not all that fancy though, just a warning,” you replied. not that there was anything wrong with panera, but you wanted to treat mark to something...better than panera.

mark shrugged, moving a stray piece of hair out of your eyes. “i don’t care about that. as long as i get to spend time with you, i can eat anything.”

flushed, you looked away and stood up, pulling mark up with you. “alright! panera it is!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

the two of you stood aside as you browsed the menu together. you hummed nostalgically with a soft smile on your face as you took in the atmosphere.

“you know, i used to come to panera a lot when i was in high school, too,” you told your boyfriend (who was meticulously observing his different options of soup).

at this, mark turned his head to you. “really? that’s dope, i didn’t know that.” the excitement in his voice made you chuckle, finding your boyfriend extremely endearing. “okay, should i get the chicken soup, or the broccoli cheddar? what vibe are we feeling today?”

after a moment, you leaned into his shoulder. “how about the chicken soup? we can share that and i can get us a pizza to share too.”

mark nodded and placed a soft kiss on your head, silently agreeing to your proposal. he let out a sudden gasp, catching you off guard. “woah, wait, you can get your soup in a bread bowl?” he looked at you as if to get your opinion and was only met with a fond smile. he took that as a way of you saying you liked the idea as much as he did. “dude, let’s do that.”

“i’ll order, you can find us a place to sit.” you gently pushed mark, determined to pay for your guys’ meal today.

mark frowned, keeping close to your side. “what? no, no, i can order, you should go sit.”

you placed your hands on mark’s shoulders, stopping him in his place. “let me treat you today, okay? you deserve it.” after mark made no effort to move, you pleaded one more time. “please? let me do this for you.”

although reluctant, mark eventually gave into you. he placed a quick peck on your cheek before turning around to go find a table for you two. “i’m treating us to dessert after this, then.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

“oh my god.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the way that mark marveled at the food in front of him. he happily took photos of his bread bowl (and the pizza, but he was more excited about the bread bowl), and insisted on taking cute photos of you despite your constant whining about not being photogenic enough. you also took photos of mark, though he was too focused on the soup to notice that you were. 

mark dipped his spoon into the soup and raised it towards you, urging you to take the first bite (slurp ??). “here, taste it.”

leaning over the table, you hummed happily at the taste of the warm soup. maybe it was because of the cold weather in chicago, but the soup tasted especially good (or, maybe it was because you were eating it with the person you loved the most). “wow, that’s really good!”

mark took a napkin and wiped at a small drop of soup that dripped onto your chin before bringing the spoon to his mouth as well. leaning back in his seat, mark sighed in content, very clearly enjoying the soup. “damn,” he said after a second. “that’s some good soup. i see why you and johnny would come here all the time.”

“i think i only ever got the mac n cheese so, this is pretty new for me too,” you admitted, laughing at the look of disbelief on your boyfriend’s face.

“all those choices and you chose mac n cheese?” he teased you before feeding you another spoonful of soup.

“hey, the mac n cheese is really good, okay? and i was, like, sixteen.” you pouted at him.

“yeah, sixteen and clearly missing out on some good soup.” mark laughed at you, wincing after you gently kicked him under the table. “maybe we’ll have to come back sometime so you can treat me to this famous mac n cheese.”

smiling and reaching over to gently poke at his free hand, you agreed. “i think panera dates should be our thing whenever we come to the u.s., hm?”

mark shrugged. “that would be cool. i would eat anywhere with you, you know.” he took your hand in his and played with your fingers as he stared fondly at you.

you scrunched up your nose, feigning disgust. “you’re so corny.” mark only let out a soft chuckle and squeezed your hand that was still held in his.

“thanks for lunch today. you didn’t have to do that,” he thanked you softly, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“i wanted to treat you out today. you’ve been working really hard, it’s the least that i could do,” you confessed to him. “you’re doing great, you know? i don’t think i tell you that enough.”

dipping his head down, mark let out small noises of embarrassment. “don’t say things like that, you’re gonna make me blush.” he tried to fight the smile that was slowly growing on his face, but it was no use. “thank you, y/n. i love you.”

you pressed a quick kiss to his knuckles, your heart swelling at his words. “i love you too. now let’s fuck up this food!”

[wisted-twunderland]

TWST boys go to Disneyland!

Heartslabyul

Ace: Is an absolute fiend on the teacups and knows which one spins the fastest (the orange diamond) and how to really get it spinning.

Deuce: Gets spun too fast on the teacups by Ace and throws up. When he feels better he enjoys being the Pilot on Smuggler's Run.

Cater: Documents the whole thing on Magicam in real time. He gets all of the classic shots, like the selfie in front of the castle, holding up the Dole Whip in front of the Tiki Room, etc.

Trey: Spends a lot of time on Main Street sampling all the different confectionaries. Also sits with Deuce after he throws up.

Riddle: Will ride the Alice in Wonderland ride and talk about all the historical inaccuracies to anyone who will listen.

Savannaclaw

Leona: He's been dragged here too many times with his nephew and made to ride all the kiddie rides, so he'd rather skip the whole thing and nap in the hotel room. But when he is inevitably dragged to the park, he enjoys the atmosphere of Adventureland and eats an unreal amount of meat skewers from Bengal Barbeque.

Ruggie: Doesn't go because it's too expensive. Nah I'm just kidding, he goes, but he definitely packs all his own food. Goes through the bakery tour and the Ghirardelli factory tour for the free bread and chocolate until he's told he can't have any more free samples.

Jack Howl: He likes Frontierland best, because it's the least crowded (and the cactus landscaping is exceptional).

Octavinelle

Azul: He's not big on rides, but he really enjoys scouring the historical showcases at the front of the park. As the owner of his own up and coming mega-conglomerate, he is eager to glean any information he can about the park and its rise to fame (and fortune).

Jade: He's very eager to get a selfie in from the yellow mushroom in Fantasyland, claiming its because of its historical significance. (Did you know it used to be a ticket booth?)

Floyd: Rides any and all of the roller coasters as many times as possible. Is not above pushing past little kids to run to the next ride.

Scarabia

Kalim: Is as excited as any kid there. Wants to see and do everything, and cries at the fireworks at the end of the day.

Jamil: Spends most of his time trying to keep up with Kalim and make sure he drinks some water once in a while. Enjoys the music and the parade more than he lets on.

Pomfiore

Vil: Enjoys the park from under a sun parasol, UV shades, and a high SPF sunscreen. He HATES that Snow White's Scary Adventure has been turned into *~*Snow White's Enchanted Wish*~*. The kids of today are WEAK.

Rook: He is hunting aiming to meet as many characters as possible and get them to sigh in his hit signature book.

Epel: Makes it his goal to sample every kind of candy apple in each of its differently decorated forms (Poor bear apple, Mickey ears apple, marshmallow apple, baby yoda apple, etc). Also a roller coaster fanatic.

Ignihyde

idia: Rides Buzz Lightyear's Astro Blaster's over and over trying to beat the all time high score (it's his). Knows where all the best targets are and can turn the cart with one hand while shooting with the other. ("This is the OG of interactive rides, even though Toy Story Mania may be more modern, this ride paved the way. At the time getting your picture taken and sending it to friends via email was unheard of but this ride blah blah blah blah...)

Ortho: Enjoys Pirates of the Carribean for its theming and "primitive robotics". Likes Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln for the same reason.

Diasomnia

Malleus: Will purchase and consume a Mickey shaped ice cream bar at every opportunity (He knows where all the ice cream carts are by the end of trip). He finds Fantasia amusing and says that the dragon is a "passable likeness".

Lillia: He's amazed at how much the park has changed since he was last here ("Star Wars Land? That area used to be a petting zoo.") Enjoys Haunted Mansion and startling Sebek in the queue.

Sebek: "We need to make sure we use our Lightning Lane at precisely 3:30, and then we must get to Goofy's Kitchen immediately after for our character dining experience, after which we must reserve our spot for the fireworks..." He's extremely concerned with getting the most out of the trip and ensuring that Malleus has a good time (Malleus doesn't care).

Silver: Enjoys the Sleeping Beauty walkthrough, as it is dark, full of vintage charm, and uncrowded. Falls asleep before the fireworks ever start.

[yokohamapound]

Hello there! I absolutely love your content you write the boys so well 😭 if you are taking submissions could you do one convincing the BSD boys to have a massage? These guys are so touch starved istg 💖💖

Ooh, I love this! I know some guys who could really do with letting go of some tension...

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Kunikida Doppo

Contents: gn!reader

Dazai Osamu

Dazai doesn't need much prodding to laze around and let someone pamper him, but he will balk at paying for it. The ADA pays okay, but Dazai's a cheapskate at heart. He doesn't see why he should pay for someone to give him a massage when his darling partner could just do it for free.

He pouts when you insist he should get a proper massage. Who knows what kind of muscle tension he's carrying? Dazai doesn't exactly look after himself—he sleeps in strange positions, regularly stuffs himself into bins and barrels, and generally has terrible posture.

The only way to convince him is to buy the massage for him as a gift or something.

"Thank you, bella, but they won't be able to get all the kinks out."

Terrible puns aside, Dazai falls asleep the minute he lays down on the massage bed, only waking up to squeal when the massage therapist digs into a particularly deep knot. You can hear him from the waiting room.

"H-harder!"

The receptionist at the massage place gives the door an alarmed look. You stare at your phone and pretend not to have heard anything.

When he comes out, he's as limp as a wet noodle, practically sparkling with relaxation.

Nakahara Chuuya

The only problem with getting Chuuya to have a massage is him finding the free time. He's also picky about who he lets put their hands on him. Not that he's worried about anyone being able to hurt him, of course.

He chooses an expensive treatment, probably a deep-tissue massage followed by hot stones or something. And it'll be a couple's massage session. If he's doing it, you're doing it too.

Probably at an onsen or some kind of spa place. A Port Mafia executive doesn't go to the dodgy place down the street, after all.

He grunts whenever the massage therapist finds another tense muscle, gripping the edge of the bed so hard the wood creaks. It feels like the therapist is drying to grind his muscles to dust. When he looks across at you, he scowls.

You're lying there in a state of bliss, your massage therapist's oiled hands gliding gently across your back. Why are you getting the light treatment?

Fuck it. He's a man. He can handle this.

Despite the therapist trying to roll him out like bread dough, he is pretty relaxed by the time they've laid hot stones on his back.

"Guy's lucky I didn't deck him," he grumbles sleepily.

"Sure thing, babe."

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Okay, so there's no way you're going to convince Aku to let some stranger lay their hands on him. It involves three things he hates:

1. Being vulnerable.

2. Strangers touching him.

3. Being naked.

The only way this is going to work is if you take a massage course, maybe throw in some aromatherapy too, and learn how to give a proper massage yourself. Even then, it's going to take a lot of wheedling and reassurance to convince him.

"No."

"Please? I really need to practice."

"Use someone else."

"Do you want me touching someone else's naked body?"

"..."

And so on and so forth.

When you finally wear him down, his thin, pale back is as rigid as a bowstring, practically vibrating with tension when you put your hands on him. He flinches, then grows even more tense. You warm some scented oil between your hands—mint, because he doesn't like citrus smells—and smooth them gently down his back.

It takes a while of that for him to start to relax. He keeps his head twisted to the side, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

Aku doesn't like you seeing him without his clothes. He knows he's scrawny, and doesn't see what the appeal is. He's always waiting for the other shoe to drop and for you to mock his appearance. It takes a lot of patience.

By the time you've worked your way up to his neck, gently kneading out the sailor-worthy knots from the amount of tension he carries, he's breathing easier. He might have let his eyes drift shut, although one hand will still be clenched in his coat, just in case.

See, Aku, that wasn't so bad, was it?

Kunikida Doppo

My god, does this man need to find some way to unwind. You may have noticed that he can be highly-strung and neurotic. Honestly, hard to blame him with his coworkers, but he's also very Type-A as a person.

Thankfully, Kunikida's ideals mean he is also very focused on maintaining his health and wellbeing. He won't ignore aches and pains, because they could well develop into more serious issues further down the line and that's not very ideal, is it?

Sadly, he's also wary of taking suggestions because of Dazai's penchant for coming up with bogus health advice. Kunikida is rather gullible, sometimes. Massage does have well-documented health benefits, though, so this shouldn't be a problem to convince him.

Just make sure it's pencilled into his schedule.

The main issue comes when it is actually time to relax. I'm convinced that Kunikida doesn't really know how. He has a couple of relaxing hobbies, like fishing, but even then he keeps a straight back and his mind is usually busy while his hands are idle.

He finds it very difficult to switch off, and the poor massage therapist is trying to massage the equivalent of a plank of wood. And when they look up, Kunikida is still trying to work—he needs to maximise every possible moment, after all!

"Sir? Sir! Are you checking your emails??"

"Yes, I have to keep on top of my inbox."

"Put the phone down, sir."

[thatoneguydownthestreet]

Yo! I really love your apocalypse yuu writings I keep coming back to see if it has updated.

I read the Lilia finds out part and when I read the "Epel gave Yuu an apple and he didn't know what it was" it got me thinking about it all night.

How would the first years react to Yuu not eating anything at all(probably other than bread) because he doesn't know what those foods are?

________________________________

FEM ALIGNED DNI

Yuus pronouns are he/him, although they're mentioned briefly

This is barely proofread so please excuse the grammar mistakes.

Featuring: Epel, Ace, Duece, Jack, and sebek (there is implied lilia at the very end but it is literally one sentence)

Warnings: Talks of starvation, Yuu's illness, and survivers guilt, so skip this if you're uncomfortable with any of that.

Also I know it's been over a month. I have no excuse. I just didn't feel like it. But I have been teaching myself how to draw so I can be a bigger simp to Jamil so that's fun ig.

________________________________

Damn bro, you really don't know shit huh?

Epel was excited, to say the least.

I mean, could you really blame him? It's not everyday that you get a big ol' crate full of the apples that you were raised with.

By all means, epel should've been long sick of eating apples. Having them almost everyday for majority of his life, dried and dehydrated in the winter, and fresh and juicy in the spring and summer.

But no, no epel felmeir loves those apples. Every single one he ate seemed to effortlessly send him back to the simpler times of his childhood. Where he would send hours upon hours avoiding his siblings and playing games with his cousins in the orchards and taking naps in the sun while he waited for his meemaws infamous apple pies to finish baking. And meemaw would almost always let him have the first slice! Of the ones she wasn't going to sell at least.

He really missed her...

He'd have to ask her to bake him another one this winter.

But just getting to read the letter she had wrote, along with his parents and one of the towns kids that always followed him around like a lost baby duck, put a smile on his face.

Yeah. He'd get to see them soon, and once he graduates, he can get them more money, and be strong enough to protect them if it ever came to that.

Unfortunately, as great as his parents apples were, they couldn't fight the natural forces of time.

Dear sevens- they'd sent him nearly three dozen apples! All high quality too... it shouldn't effect sales too much. The orchards were big, and his parents would rather give up that expensive family heir loom necklace that his mother always wore than start selling spoiled apples.

But still, epel couldn't possibly eat thirty-six apples before they all started to rot. Plus, he didn't know how long they took to ship to the isle of sages, so that cut the time frame even shorter.

.....Does Jack like apples?

Should he even be considering giving Jack an apple to begin with? Their relationship was pretty vague. We're they actually friends or just study buddies?

Study buddies can give eachother gifts too right? And plus, it's food, not a 24 carrot gold ring or something crazy like that.

It should be fine. Maybe he'll give one to ace too. They were friends. Surely.

.

.

.

Ace trappola would say he was a good friend. I mean, he wasn't the best by any means, but he was decent.

Yeah, he could be kind of a dick. But who isn't at this point, honestly, even deuce, even cater had their moments.

But he was still someone the people in his life could go to for things, usually physically, tangible this like food or an extra ball or something, but he wasn't completely useless when it came to emotions either.

You could come to him if something was bothering you. He probably won't help you actually fix it but he can at least make you laugh.

So why didn't you want to laugh?

You had taken your mask off a few weeks ago. And like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on him he realized it was the first time he ever saw you eat any food here at all.

Were you eating at all before then? What about water?

Thank the seven you were only here for around a week. But surely, you were dehydrated.

(You were definitely dehydrated. Deuce gave you a water bottle and you chugged it like it was your only chance at life. Which, to be fair, it probably was your only chance at life.)

Ace didn't know what your life was like before.

Ace didn't want to know either.

He didn't do well with heavy topics, always changing the subject when one came up unless he was personally involved in some way.

Other people life didn't concern him, and that was something he lived by.

...but still.

This was going a bit too far, don't you think?

Ace shot a look to deuce, clear concern instead of the regular teasing, which caught his roomates attention faster than he thought it would.

Ok. So deuce had noticed too.

Just goes to show how obvious it was that something is very wrong here.

Now, because ace had never asked, and he probably never will, he didn't know what your relationship with food was like before you came here. But. It couldn't have been this right?

A person couldn't only survive on some bread and room temperature water, right?

You sat across from him at your guy's unofficial table in the cafeteria, drinking the water at a moderate pace, as you didn't want to deal with another scolding from a certain housewarden, doing your best to keep a careful eye on grim as he went to go get his food from the lunch line.

And thank the seven for that, really. If grim turned back and saw that you weren't watching him for even a second, who knows that kind of ruckus would result?

But all that aside, you were still scarily underweight. Seriously perfect, how were you even alive?

Ace looked at deuce again. Deuce looked back.

He sighed.

Ace never, ever thought he would do something like this.

But for sevens sake, you were one of his best friends. And Ace will be damned if he just let you do this to yourself.

So with a deep breathe, he looked at you, and then turned back to what he was pretty sure was an ex-gang member, and nodded.

And for once, deuce understood.

They had to do something.

.

.

.

You reminded Deuce Spade of that stray cat that his mother would always feed when he was a child.

Underweight, scared, scarred, and confused.

Always having an air if caution and paranoia, ready to react, as if anything could just jump out and grab you at any time.

But you weren't a cat, were you?

No. You were a person. Someone his age, maybe younger, that had obviously seen horrors he couldn't even understand. Which just made this whole situation even sadder.

Because if you lived like this, then what the hell was stopping him? What about his mother? What was stopping her from having the same fate?

Duece ignored the memories of his mother giving him food and taking none for herself, saying she wasn't hungry.

But he couldn't quite ignore them, nor could he ignore the pit in his stomach whenever he looked at you.

...Listen perfect, he doesn't know what you went through to be like this, but he knows damn well this isn't normal.

It can't be normal. Hiding this much food underneath your floorboards couldn't ever be normal.

The two of you were just hanging out in your room in Ramshakle. Grim was in the lounge, he was sure, and you had stared off into space before asking the date.

When he told you, you had a look of slight panic as you ripped the rug off from its place on the floor, and started pulling apart the boards.

And what for?

The reveal of a large stash of food, mostly non-perishables, but a few snacks here and there too.

Snacks that were about to expire, apparently.

You turned to look back at him, a sheepish look on your face, and what looked like a bag if chips in your hand.

Deuce didn't know what face he was making.

He just knew it wasn't one he'd want you to see

.

.

.

If someone were to ask Jack howl if he was your friend. He wouldn't know to to say.

I mean yeah, you helped save his entire dorms ass way back when, yeah, you and him absolutely went throught it during azuls little "episode", and yeah, the two of you had plenty of mutual friends.

But we're the two of you friends?

Jack wasn't sure.

Because by all accounts, you should be.

It didn't change the fact that you weren't. Not really. Not by his definition and not by yours.

So what were you?

Well, you weren't friends. That was already established. And you were too close to be acquaintances (he didn't think acquaintance fell asleep on each other in the botanical gardens, only to wake up five minutes till curfew and just haul ass back to their respective dorms with smiles on their faces), so...what did that leave?

Well... I guess it left this.

"Eat it"

"....huh?"

Jack didn't know you that well. But that didn't mean he couldn't see..this happening. And it definitely didn't mean he didn't care.

So here he was. Holding a pastrami sandwich about an inch away from your face, silently begging you to just shut up and eat it.

Come on perfect, he bought this with his own money. Just humor him, please.

You eyed the sandwich like it was the most untrustworthy thing you'd ever seen. Jack's not going to lie, it kind of hurt.

But it wouldn't matter if you ate it, so he sucked it up.

...at least he would if you'd actually take the fucking sandwich.

Seriously, it was starting to tick him off.

Jack briefly considered just varying off and giving the sandwich to ruggie or something, or just eating it himself. He wasn't the biggest fan of pastrami but who knows, maybe the school made it better.

Honestly, he probably would have done just that if the image if you leaning against the wall looking ready to pass out from, what he knew, was malnutrition.

The event itself actually happened around two weeks ago, give or take. Jack thinks the only real reason he remembers it so well is because, well, it was the moment.

The defining moment, the moment where it just clicked that something was very wrong here.

He already knew that of course, I mean, look at you.

But as it turns out, watching someone actively starve to death in front of you will keep you up at night.

His mind turned to ruggie for a split second, before forcibly shoving that thought down where all the other thoughts he didn't want to think about were.

Like that time when he was a kid with a crush on Vil....yeah, Jack's happy he got o er that one to say the least. Nothing against Vil, he's a great friend and all (they were friends right?), but them in a relationship? Yeah. No. Not happening. No thankyou.

...yeah.

Jack mentally slapped hi.self and proceeded to shove his weird thoughts down yet again and refocus on getting his not-quite-friend to eat.

You were leaning back a lot farther than you were a second ago, if you did that anymore you'd probably just end up on the ground.

...jack sighed. This was going to take a while wasn't it?

By the end of the lunch period, you had come to a compromise, jack you slip the sandwich with you and take the other half for himself.

You ended up splitting your half with grim, who reluctantly took it. You had actually eaten yours too!...after you took the while thing apart and inspected and obsessed over it like how he'd seen Rook do to his housewardens that one time!

But still, it was something.

It was a start. And that's really all he could ask for at this point.

.

.

.

Sebek didn't notice anything about you at first. And he didn't particularly care much either. He was a guard for sevens sake! He had a deep responsibility!

He had a crown prince, that he oh so admired, to protect! Not to mention silver, who he had to wake up at every given turn, and not to mention Lilia, who had recently been going harder on their training sessions.

So to waste his time with a human? With a weak little human that didn't even come close to his current list if priorities?

That's time he simply did not have!

...So why was he here?

He was supposed to be looking for his charge. His charge, who always seemed to wind up around the old, abandoned Ramshakle building and just dissappear in the nick of time.

It had been happening more and more lately, especially since that new perfect moved in.

He would be lying if he said he cared too much about him. Again, he didn't have time to be curious about some strange human boy with some strange past.

But still, he couldn't quite contain the way he jumped back when he'd first seen them.

Whoever he was, he looked so...sick.

...he didn't have time for this.

Turning back on his heel, he refocused his mind on finding his lord again, and quickl- wait- silver. Oh great sevens. Silver wake up!

Ok. Sebek really didn't have time for this.

...and yet.

Here he was, standing next to you, arms out ready to catch you at a moments notice if you really were going to collapse like he thought you were.

He hadn't been this close to you before.

And now he could see that you weren't just sick.

Great seven, you looked like you were dying...

Sebek zigbolt had always known humans were weak, fragile creatures. Never able to even light a candle next to faeries. Never able to light a candle next to him, and certainly not his young master.

But this was just pushing it.

Sebek was stronger than his human counterparts. He would long outlive them. He thought of silver for the shortest second and then quickly pushed that thought to the side. This was not the time. Buteven with those facts, sebek still knew that humans weren't made of fine glass. Even if the people in his homeland liked to act like it, Sebek still knew that humanity wasn't completely hopeless.

One strong gust of wind wouldn't knock them over.

One missed meal wasn't enough to do detrimental damage to their health.

Pulling one all nighter would barely put a dent in their day to day lives, aside from the obvious fatigue and.

But with you?

With you? Alwats looking like you could kneel over and die then and there on the classroom floor?

...

Sebek want so sure anymore.

.

.

.

Epel had eaten more apples than any normal person should ever be able to eat.

Sevens help him, his stomach.

Despite the waves of pain that shit through him every now and then, epel wasn't mad.

Yeah, maybe eating a whole eight apples in the span of two hours wasn't his smartest idea, but the sweet nostalgia that seemed to wash over him and warm his very soul? Yeah no, it was worth it.

So no. Epel felmeir wasn't mad.

And laying in a bed that was much too soft for his taste, a direct contrast from the slightly itchy blankets and the hard mattresses back home, epel glance over to the almost empty crate of apples that were sitting just under his work desk.

...As much as Epel wanted to eat them, he wanted to do this even more.

Epel sat up, ignoring his stomach pain the best he could, and began a mental list of all the people he knew. And then a silent debate over who deserved his families apples in the first place.

Ok. First up Ace.

Epel would say they were friends. Not close friends by any means, but friends nonetheless.

Epel could give him one.

Next was Jack.

...In all honesty, epel didn't know. We're they friends, or just simply homework buddies that occasionally hung out?

...he could spare one for Jack, maybe they'd be friends then if they weren't already.

Duece.

Yes. Just- just yes. That day on the beach had changed their relationship forever. Duece was like a brother to him at this point.

He was goddamn getting an apple.

Epel chuckled a little at the realization that he was treating this like one of those elimination gameshows his meemaw liked.

Ok...he had two apples left after that.

Sebek wasn't really his friend was he? He certainly didn't make it seem like he was. If anything, Sebek was trying his damnedest to make them all belive the exact opposite, really.

....maybe he should just give the apple to Rook.

Or Vil.

Maybe.

Ok. He has one apple left.

The two of you weren't really friends. But you were friendly. If nothing else, you had been nothing but kind to him so far.

And plus, you looked uh. Half dead. To put it nicely.

And so, with a smile on his face, epel took out the crate of apples and began placing them on a bag that would make them easier to carry around tomorrow.

He couldn't wait.

.

.

.

It's funny how your whole life can change in a single moment, especially when you don't even know what that moment was.

Why were you here? Where is here anyway? Surely, magic didn't exist right?

The air wasn't always this clean right?

Water wasn't readily available at the turn of a handle right?

People didnt...people werent...weren't....

Heh. Heheha.

Why.

Why were you here?

Why were you here?

Why you and not one of the kids? What the hell have you ever done but use up medical supplies in a fruitless effort to keep you alive.

Why was this world so...pretty. happy. Clean.

Why this world and not your own? What had this world ever done to deserve this luxury of life.

...What had yours?

What had you?

Out of all the base commanders, the medics, the farmers, or children, or any of the other apprentice kids that you sometimes had to work with.

You were here. And they were still trapped inside of that hell.

...You didn't deserve this.

You died. You were on that beach and you died.

You woke up in a coffin, but something told you this wasn't the afterlife.

That something being the blood that you coughed up the other day.

It wasn't from internal bleeding, you k ew that much. Rather, it was from you coughing so hard that something in your throat had ripped.

It really didn't matter. You had spent nearly half an hour in a panic, choking and trying to unclog your airways, while grim and the ghosts you had come to somewhat love, stood behind you, offering what little comfort they could.

It wasn't the first time this happened after all.

You were still bedridden for a good two days after that. Thank God for the weekend.

Time passed in a blur while you were like that. It always did, mostly because you were asleep ninety percent of the time. The other twn being dedicated to medicine and a vain attempt to get food you knew you couldn't stomach to stay down.

So no. This wasn't the afterlife.

It was just a beautiful second chance that you didn't deserve.

It was so confusing.

And this was so confusing.

What..is this weird red thing being handed to you?

Epel looked at you with a hopeful expression on his face. It reminded you of the little girl you used to look after...

You take the..thing.

Glancing over to your right, you watch Ace take a large bite out of it with a smile on his face.

Ok. So not poisonous. Good to know.

You saw Duece do the same thing.

You felt Jack staring at you, but you didn't dare look at him.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

La Dolce Vita - John Shelby/Cosima Changretta (OFC).

Part two is here, besties! :) I hope you all enjoy it, as I am loving writing these two together. You'll notice too that I gave John a few less kids than we see in canon, just to make it a little easier on myself as the writer, lol!

Words - 4,218

Warnings - Each part will be adult only content, from swearing to eventual smut and violence. Minors DNI.

Part II - Purgatorio

Countryside living was something John had become accustomed to during his marriage to Esme, his beautiful country pile and vast grounds a much more desirable location than the smoggy suburbs of Small Heath. After her death, he had sold it, returning to the latter until he was married again.  

As predicted, Cosima detested living in a back-to-back. Her continued complaining as well as his desire for what he had come to enjoy was what led him to purchase another countryside property, choosing the small village of Wythall in Bromsgrove, buying a beautiful, spacious cottage for her to spruce up. It was far enough from Birmingham to leave his troubles within the swirling smog and looming viaducts, but near enough that he could be back on Watery Lane for his business endeavours in just over forty minutes by car.  

Married life was not ideal, being a person wed to someone he didn’t like, whose tempestuous nature often put him directly in her firing line. However, he could not discount her qualities. A spoiled princess with expensive tastes (the cottage renovation had cost him a fortune) she might have been, but god, she worked her fingers to the bone. 

“Oliver, Mary, Katie, Freddie, Seamus, come along! We’ll be late, get your skates on!” she called, hurrying back to the kitchen were five sandwiches lay on the chopping board, freshly baked bread with liberal fillings of egg and ham, Cosima cutting them into their required shapes. Squares for Oliver and Seamus, triangles for Katie and oblongs for Mary and Freddie. She knew well the likes and dislikes of her stepchildren.  

Wrapping each in baking parchment, she placed them into individual brown paper bags, an apple and a couple of custard creams put in too, five lunches folded neatly and handed to each child as they filed into the kitchen, smartly dressed in their immaculately pressed uniforms. “Give your father a kiss and let’s get moving, come on. We’ll miss the bell! Blinking hell, Seamus, look at your mouth. Toothpaste all over, come here!” 

His son’s mouth was wiped with her handkerchief, the boy squirming, Cosima bopping his little nose with her finger once done before she herded them through the kitchen. “Quickly, quickly, come on!” 

John couldn’t believe she was the same woman who had originally thrown a puce faced fit upon finding out she was to be stepmother to five children, with how well she’d taken to mothering his brood. For Cosima, she’d eventually seen the little ones as a blessing, something to take her mind off the fact that she detested being married to their father.  

Picking up her wicker basket, she followed them out the door without looking at John once, leaving him to sigh and return to the sitting room, drinking tea while reading the morning paper. With the addition of the wicker basket, this meant she would be stopping at the local village shop on her way back from the school, meaning he had roughly an hour before she would be through the door and ready to scrub the house from top to bottom.  

That was something else he couldn’t fault her for; she kept a beautiful home. John just preferred to be nowhere near her while she was going about it. She’d always find something to pick at him about, and he was tiring of it. He did try, to have something more resembling of an actual marriage rather than a setup of convenience with his beautiful young bride, but she shot him down at every step. Her contempt did nothing but continually fester, it seemed. She still couldn’t forgive him for the demise of her father and brother.  

Keeping an eye on the grandfather clock, he waited until fifty minutes had passed before whistling for Dot and Bo, his two faithful springer spaniel bitches. “Yeah, that’s right. We’re off to get a couple of grouse, maybe a pigeon or pheasant an’ all.”  

The dogs began to circle and yap excitedly as he pulled his shotgun from the cabinet, packing ammunition and draping the gun over his arm, heading into the kitchen and wrapping himself some cheese scones in a clean tea towel, placing those in his bag, too. If there was another thing his wife excelled at, it was all things culinary. He’d come directly in her vexed crosshairs upon eating his first meal prepared by her three months before, stating that he did not “eat wop food” as he’d coined her lasagne, without actually even trying it.  

As soon as he’d put a forkful into his mouth, he’d been a very, very rapid convert. It had been perhaps the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, Cosima standing with her arms folded, smirking at his swift change of heart over her food. He now looked forward to every meal she prepared for him with gusto, although couldn’t bear to sit in her company while eating it. He’d try and make conversation, and she’d sulk and pout. It was irksome to say the least.  

His leaving the house was timed impeccably, seeing Cosima walking back down the lane as he was heading out of the garden and into the few acres of lush, green fields that came with the cottage. She even got the money out of that, too, allowing local people to graze their horses upon it when resting their own pastures. While John and the dogs headed for the woods, Cosima let herself into the cottage, putting her apron on and beginning her housework.  

Once her beautiful home was sparkling – not that she allowed it to be any other way – she took the rugs out to beat the dust from them and then returned to the kitchen, making preparations for the children’s dinner. A local lady from the village was coming by to that evening to keep an eye on them while she and John headed back into Birmingham, the family gathering for Polly’s birthday meal at a restaurant upon Broad Street.  

Although she held her husband in a more or less permanent state of contempt, she did actually like Polly. She found her to be strong, intelligent, and once you got to know her, very loving towards her family. It had taken a while for her to thaw, but now the women did get along well. Certainly, Cosima had much more time for her than she did John or Tommy.  

Stirring the pasta sauce in a large pot upon the cast iron range, an original Victorian fixture of the cottage, Cosima sighed. She should be happy. She had literally everything she’d ever wanted, a beautiful home, huge garden, a couple of lovely dogs, a brood of children – and although not her own, they adored her as much as she did them – as well as a handsome, successful husband; whom she couldn’t stand.  

Well, that wasn’t strictly true. John was a nice man, he had a wicked sense of humour, he was a staunch provider, and he was so handsome she caught herself swooning over him all the time. She could see him trying hard to at least have some semblance of a meaningful connection with her, but she couldn’t help herself in shooting him down each and every time. Why?  

Guilt. 

He and his family were why two fifths of her immediate one no longer breathed, and she was to simply forget that and be content, happy in her new life with John? Her father would turn in his grave to know she had now acquired the surname of Shelby. He would be utterly livid. 

“But he isn’t here.” Her statement fell from her lips along with the little splashes of tears from her pretty eyes, eyes so blue that her beloved father had often joked that she couldn’t be his. “She’s the milkman’s, isn’t she?” he’d say in jest to her mother. Of course, she was his, though. A tear landed in the sauce she stirred, Cosima pulling her handkerchief from her dress sleeve and drying her eyes.  

The sound of barking became audible, the kitchen door opening, Dot and Bo being told to sit. “You got that towel, Cosima? I don’t want their muddy feet ruining your clean floor.” That was another thing about John, he was always appreciative of how immaculately she kept their home. Some men merely waved it away as a woman’s work and had no respect for such, but not him.  

“Hold on.” Moving to the cupboard under the sink, she pulled out one of the more raggedy tea towels she kept for the purpose of paw cleaning, handing it to him. 

He took it, a small frown creasing his handsome features. “You been crying?”  

Immediately, she straightened, sniffing as she held herself with her usual dignity. “Garlic, in the pasta sauce. It made my eyes water.” 

“Ah, right.” Moving back outside, he made sure each paw was clean and dry before letting the dogs in, removing his muddy boots and leaving them at the back door. Making his way in, he sniffed the air, half wishing that they were staying at home to eat whatever it was his wife had crafted, it smelled so good. “Let’s have a little try of that, give us a spoon.” 

“No, it isn’t ready yet,” she bustled, returning to the pot.  

He bit his tongue. “I got two pheasants, a grouse and a couple of pigeons. They’re in the outhouse hanging up. Just let me know when you wanna use ‘em and I’ll go pluck ‘em. I know you don’t like doing that.” 

“Okay. Oh, John? That floorboard by the front door has come up again. Can you go and fix it down? I left nails and a hammer on the phone table.” 

“Yeah, in a bit. Wanna have a tea and warm up a bit first.” 

She sighed, chewing her cheek. “No, now please. Before the kids come home. I don’t want them tripping on it while they’re playing.” 

“They ain’t coming home until gone three. Just give us half an hour, eh?” 

“Bloody get it done now, John! Before you forget!”  

Ahh, it had almost been quite civil for a moment. “Oi, watch your fucking tone, woman. I told you I’d get it done and I will. Fucking bad tempered mare.”  

“Stop calling me a mare!” 

“Well stop behaving like one in season then, and I might, eh?” he shook his head, chewing on his toothpick aggressively. “Always fucking blowing up at me for no fucking reason. Sort yourself out, for fucks sake!” 

“Fine!” she raged, flinging her arms in the air with her usual dramatic flair, “I’ll go and do it!” 

“You do that.” He moved to the kettle, filling it with water, intent on having his tea before he went and helped her with the task. He wouldn’t have forgotten either, but she couldn’t just let him be for five minutes while he had a drink and thawed out from the February chill, oh no. She had to pick at him.  

A few minutes passed, John letting the tea steep in the pot as he snacked on a slice of bread slathered in butter and Cosima’s homemade blackberry jam, the sounds of her swearing in Italian drifting through the house until suddenly, a yelp.  

“What the bloody hell’s she done,” he muttered, placing the bread down and moving to the hallway, finding her kneeling down, holding her thumb in a tight grasp. “You alright?” 

“No, I’m blinking not!” she cried through her tears, “I’ve hit my fucking thumb with the cursed, wretched hammer!” 

“Here, let me see.” Pulling her hand from her grasp, he examined it, the knuckle bright red. “At least you ain’t split the skin. Come on, let’s get it under the cold tap.” 

“No, I’m fine,” she snipped, pulling her hand away and attempting to grasp the hammer again. 

“Leave this, I’ll get it done. Come on.” 

“Fuck off, I’m alright!”  

Again, he bit his tongue. “It’s gonna swell unless you get it under the cold water.” 

“I said I’m fine!” 

Rolling his eyes, he pulled her up, her screaming protests falling on deaf ears as he lifted her with ease into his arms, carrying her through to the kitchen. She struggled, swore at him, batted at him with her hands, John tiring of it. “Oh, stop all this malarkey and just let me help ya!”  

He forced her hand beneath the tap, turning it on, holding it there while she winced and continued to cry. All he was trying to do was help her, and she couldn’t even let him do that. Finally, she relaxed a little, sniffing and wiping her tears, her thumb throbbing angrily. “Have I broken it?”  

“Give it a wiggle.” She did. “Did it feel like someone pushing a hot pin into it?” 

“No. It smarts, but it isn’t as bad as that.”  

“Then nah, ain’t broken, bab.” She went to move her hand, John gently directing it back under the stream of cold water. “Few more minutes, or it’ll blow up like a bloody golf ball.” 

“Then I’d look a right state, all teary with my golf ball thumb.”  

He chuckled, putting an arm around her on instinct. What was even more surprising? She leaned into his hug, allowing herself to be comforted by her husband. It was a first, a little thread of connection woven between the warring spouses, John turning the tap off after a few moments and reaching for the soft, white hand towel. “Come sit down and have a cuppa. I’ll go and finish the floorboard.”  

“No, it’s okay,” she protested, shaking her head. “I should think about getting ready, I have to do my hair and it takes forever.” 

“Sure? I’ll drop a nip of brandy in it for ya?” 

She pulled from him, whatever it was that had opened up closing again rapidly. “No, I’m fine.”  

For the sake of a quiet life, he left it, recognising that there had been a little progress there between them, if only very small. He went and finished fixing the floorboard, done within minutes and returning to drink his tea, his little brood coming crashing through the door half an hour later, the house once again full of noise.  

A few hours later and they were ready to leave, the children happily eating their spaghetti al Forno while Mrs. Baxter sat knitting, keeping a watchful eye upon them. Cosima was quiet all the way to town, John giving up in the end and letting the car be filled with nothing but the sound of their strained silence, glad to see his brothers and other family and friends once they arrived at the restaurant.  

His wife continued to be sullen throughout the meal, only really talking to Polly and Lizzie and even then, the women had to work hard to keep the conversation going with her. In the end, the former took it upon herself to pull the newest Shelby aside a little later that night, steering her over to the long, oak bar after she had returned from the ladies. 

“You’ve a face as long as Livery Street, madam,” Polly observed, passing her a gin cocktail. “What’s the matter? You can’t still hate our John, not after how good he’s been to you regardless of that contempt.” Her words were delivered with care, but they did not lack their usual bite. Polly would be protective of her nephews until she drew her last breath, no matter how much she genuinely did like Cosima.  

The young woman took a sip of her drink, placing the dainty glass down, accepting one of Polly’s clove cigarettes with thanks. They were a rare treat from her usual preferred brand of Park Drive, Cosima loving the warm, spicy scent of the burning clove, yet unable to smoke more than a couple at a time on account of how much they made her cough when she did. “I want to be happy with him, Pol. I honestly do, but I can’t get past it all.” 

She didn’t need to elaborate. “It’s been and gone, love. You feel guilty though, I see that.” This woman, god. She was so remarkably perceptive. “You have to move on with your life. If your brother and mother could, then there’s fuck all stopping you, is there?” 

“But my papa...”  

“Cosima, your father is gone, and you are still here,” Polly cut her up with, reaching to lightly grip her forearm. “We women, we suffer the collateral damage in the wars fought by our men, and your father was not blameless in his part. He was a gangster too, just as my boys are, just as your brother is. You know this world we live in, and living is what you have to do, sweetheart. If you keep on holding that burning contempt for John, I’ll tell you now, you’ll be the one who ends up scalded.”  

Her eyes were fixed upon her, unblinking, drawing on her cigarette before lifting her glass to her mouth. “Let it go. Set yourself free, for god’s sake. You have absolutely nothing to feel guilty about, you hear me?” 

She nodded. “I do. Easier said than done, though, it seems.” 

“Horse shit.” She slapped a gloved hand off the bar, shaking her head as she tutted. “Life is as hard as you make it for yourself, my girl. Stop punishing yourself because you think that’s what your father would do, should he still be alive.”  

Again, Cosima was startled by Polly’s intuitive assessment of the situation, straightening and knocking back the rest of her drink. “Thanks for the chat, Pol. I know you’re right, but...” 

“But you’re a typical hardheaded, fire blooded Italian. Listening to others don’t come easy to you, I know. Just know that if you made it easy on yourself, that man over there? He’d soon treasure you like you were the rarest jewel on earth.”  

Cosima got up, heading past the table and outside, finishing the cigarette and reaching into her little sequined bag to pull out her own gold case, lighting up one of her own. She felt agitated by Polly’s words, pacing up and down as the discomfort of being told what to do rolled through her ceaselessly. She knew why it annoyed her the most, though. Polly was right.  

Still, it was in Cosima’s nature to fight it at any given opportunity.  

“How’s ya thumb feeling now?” 

Turning, she looked into the radiant, cloudy blue eyes of her husband. All she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts for a little while, but no. “Stings a little, but it’s okay.” 

He nodded, taking a pull on his cigar. “And you? Thought we were actually starting to talk to each other kinda civilly earlier, then you went quiet on me.” 

Her stare was through narrowed eyes, the magma in her blood rising in heat. “Always my fault, isn’t it?” 

“That’s not what I said, Cosima.” 

“No, but you meant it, didn’t you?” 

For fucks sake. How much harder was this tempestuous madam going to make his life? “You need to stop putting words in me mouth, love. Getting right tired of it, I am.” 

Her beautiful lips were held in pout a little longer, drawing angrily upon her cigarette, not able to escape the intensity of her husband's stare as finally, she pushed her pride down. “I’m sorry.”  

“Well, look at that. Twice since we were married, you’ve said you were sorry. Some fellas make it to their diamond wedding anniversaries without hearing it once from the missus. Ain’t I lucky, eh?” His attempt of a joke fell flat, her face unmoving. God, she was whittling him down to his last nerve, and rapidly. “Ain't you ever heard of smiling, Cosima?" He charged her with, eyeing her defiantly. 

She pulled the white fox fur warming her pale curves tighter around herself, taking one last drag upon her cigarette before flicking it away. “If you give me something to smile about, I might.” 

Oh, he had his work cut out for him, John scratching his jaw. “I’ll stick my fucking face between your legs for about half an hour, then you’ll be grinning like a loon, you miserable cow.” he muttered, but not nearly quietly enough 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” 

“Nothing, bab,” he grinned, gritting his teeth behind that forced smile. “Nothing at-fucking-all.” Give her something to smile about? She had a nerve. He’d bought her a beautiful cottage, gave her fifty pounds a week to buy whatever she wanted for herself completely aside from the housekeeping money, and was working his arse off in an effort to be a good husband. He felt like telling Tommy where he could stick his Changretta truce. Nothing, it seemed, would make her warm to him.  

He headed back inside, leaving her standing there alone, lighting herself another cigarette as she pouted, but mainly at herself. She knew it had to stop, she had to cease being – as he had quite rightly coined her – a miserable cow. The guilt of it, though. Oh, the guilt.  

“Oi, love,” an approaching man called to her, flanked by two others, “how much for a bit of how’s your father, eh?” 

“I beg your fucking pardon?” she spat, her mouth dropping open.  

Looking her up and down, he smirked. “You’re a bird standing on a street corner with a low-cut dress on. Ain’t hard to see you’re touting for business, so how much?”  

“Wait there,” she gritted, lifting her chin defiantly. “Let me go and fetch my pimp.”  

Marching back into the restaurant, John thought she was coming to have a go at him all over again, taking in her thunderous expression. “John! There’s a man out there who just accused me of being a fucking prostitute!”  

Arriving with him at the bar, she drew stares from all around, the less coarse clientele tutting and muttering, Tommy touching a hand to her elbow. “Keep your voice down, love.” 

“I will bloody not!” 

John cut in, nodding to his brother. “Take us out to him.” Her heart all but stopped dead at seeing the look in his eyes, the immediate, highly angered state her words had caused to rise within him like a leviathan. He might’ve been annoyed with her, but still, one mention of her being spoken to disrespectfully and he fired into action. Taking her hand, he walked her from the restaurant, Tommy at her other side.  

“This your pimp, is it? Oh, two fellas, eh?” 

“Ar, lad. She must be good!” one of the other jokers with the man who had disrespected her offered, the three laughing.  

“Gonna be laughing on the other side of your face in a minute, mush. Now, which fucking one of you called my wife a whore?”  

“Me,” the central man spoke, stepping forward, “Cos’ she looks like a whore, don’t she?”  

John eyed him with cool defiance, lifting his chin while stepping closer, their noses almost touching. “Wanna know what you look like, mate?” 

“What?” 

“A man with a really fucking nice smile. A Small Heath smile, as I like to call ‘em.” Removing his cap, he swiftly headbutted the man before him, shattering his nose across his face before grabbing him, gripping his throat in a formidably tight grasp. Using the razorblades upon the peak of the trademark flat cap, he slashed open his face at the corners of his mouth, the skin tearing. “You’ll never fucking speak of my bloody wife like that again, you fucking hear me?” 

While he took care of him, Tommy laid punches upon the second and third, one of them breaking free and beginning to beat John across the back with his fists, Cosima setting her bag down in one of the flowerpots that flanked the restaurant entrance, removing a shoe.  

Charging with a wobbly gait, she hitched up her dress and jumped onto the man’s back, beating him in the face and head with the heel of her shoe, until he was bloody, the heel hitting his eyeball as she snarled. “Don’t you dare touch my fucking husband! Don’t you dare!” 

The men got out of there quickly once Cosima had neatly dismounted her target, John calling after them. “Next time, you lose your fucking tongue, ya cunt!” Breathless, he turned to his wife, raising an eyebrow. “Well, at least I managed to put a smile on someone’s face tonight, eh? Nice work with the shoe an’ all, by the way. Didn’t know you cared.” 

He turned to head back inside with Tommy, straightening themselves after the ruck, Cosima reaching for his shoulder, turning him. He was about to speak again, his words of further sarcastic retort blocked by her lips landing upon his, her arms tightening around his neck. 

Her kisses were blooms of roses growing through wildfire, soft yet burning, John clasping her dainty body to his as he felt his insides cinder upon her heat. He’d fantasised for months about how it would feel to kiss those plump, pink lips, desire running rampant through him. Pulling away, her cheeks flushed, pupils inking, John leaning in for more she happily gave.  

When they parted again, she smiled. Finally. All it took was a smidgen of violence.  

[stillfrownyclownlol]

Oh nooooo somebody stole my Aidlyn/Ashden headcanons so now I have to write more ... ✨️

(SORRY IM SPAMMING THE TAG 😭😭😭)

Some of these are based on my dad because he has bpd and he really reminds me of Aiden.

-His sense of humor is so broken like. Probably makes "that's what she said" and "your mom" jokes. Ash thinks he is the unfunniest person alive 🤡 and she STILL laughs at him (but never when he's trying to be funny). I think he'd be on Vine a lot lmao. He would laugh at that video of the bread slice falling over no cap.

-Aiden Clark, Professional Doomscroller. Maybe an itty bitty bit addicted to social media cuz "omg easy dopamine hit" even if he doesn't post a lot. Would prolly be chronically on TikTok if he was a teen today 🤡 Ash WILL steal his phone and hide it so they can "do something productive" (which alternates between her trying to teach him basic life skills to him falling out of a tree because they went outside for five minutes)

-her parents also gave him a truly awful shovel talk. He came out of it, kneeled in front of her, and said if he broke her heart to kill him before her parents did 💖 Tyler and him bond about their "scary in laws", although he has a better relationship with Mike and Emma than Tyler does with Mary and James 🤡

-convinced her to go to prom because "free food" and managed to wrangle out a slow-dance from her. He already likes dancing, SHE likes dancing...he wants to dance together ^_^

-She really likes his normal smile, when he's not forcing it. He takes good care of his teeth, so he's got a real bright smile :)

-Aiden tried to teach her how to skateboard a few times. She can...stand on it without falling off and roll around, but no tricks lol. Ash still thinks it was just an excuse for him to grab her hands or waist while she was balancing.

-Some problems in the relationship: they are not very good at communicating how they feel, so there's a lot of misunderstandings between them unless the gang intervenes haha ":D Sometimes Ash feels very suffocated by him and she really dislikes his apathy towards himself, and Aiden sometimes feels like Ash doesn't care about him nearly as much as he cares about her.

-his depressive episodes alternate between "I'm just gonna lie here and hope I die" to "actively trying to self destruct", sometimes he might go on a binge (overdosing on his meds, and when he's older he might sometimes drink too much or go on really dangerous joy rides, he's an awful driver), they really freak Ash out :( Recovery is a very long road with no end destination. She's trying to get better at reassuring him and he's trying to...just get better.

-both of them suck at remembering their anniversary 🤡 Aiden is a littleeeee bit better

-They have a knife collection they share ❤️

-he has her as "love of my life 💖✨️😍" on his phone contacts and has a special ringtone for her and everything. Absolutely not embarrassed about it, Ash...definitely is 💀 (she has him as "Aiden")

-sends her really bad poetry he wrote for her because writing his feelings down by himself is easier than saying it in the moment. Ash keeps all of them in a shoebox in her closet.

-she's not really good with touching and stuff but she feels better touching him, like a good stim. Really likes holding his face (no eye contact). Also enjoys him holding her hand.

-Secretly a little insecure about how she looks. She has never really thought about it before because she never cared about it, but now, in a relationship, she's kinda self conscious about him perceiving (read: constantly staring) her. She's very short and thin (even with muscles from ballet and training) and feels like a "late bloomer." Aiden thinks she's the closest thing to physical perfection that exists and will tell her this constantly ^_^

-She actually likes how he smells (grâce à: his really expensive soap lmao) but she would die before telling him lol

-The first time she kissed him her brain kinda shut off and she just squished their faces together while puffing her cheeks up. He bust out laughing and completely murdered the mood 💀 They'll figure it out...eventually

[issacballsac]

“Being Best-friends with Dante Sparda„

Being a son of Sparda doesn’t mean he doesn’t have time to fool around with you ! Gender neutral human reader

Teenage Years | DMC3

Being the massive flirt he is he’ll most likely try and flirt with you upon meeting

Seeing as his twin brother is currently trying to kill him and take his necklace he’ll keep your first conversation short and leave you with his number

After literal Hell on Earth he’ll remember to give you a call

Y’all click instantly…he’s also just a really easy person to get along with but we’ll just ignore that

Now we all know he STAYS broke so either you pay for a meal or y’all are taking a walk in the park somewhere

Getting him to actually talk about himself is pretty difficult

Give him space and he’ll open up about deeper things in his life eventually especially things that concern his demon half(brother, childhood, etc.)

He does enjoy throwing compliments everywhere so expect daily words of praise whether it be sarcastic, goofy, exaggerated, or sincere praise

If you like to compliment as well it’ll be like the most sickening bromance ever

If your still in school DO NOT go to him for homework help

He’ll hype you up for sure but if you need genuine academic help just get a tutor💀

Would be genuinely upset if you made a joke regarding his white hair bro would get hella moody and claim you aren’t friends anymore

If you have a part time job you can BET he’s gonna ask for some bread

Not exactly outright but he’ll allude to it like..

“You remember all the damage those demon guys did to my shop? Yeah…it’s gonna cost A TON to repair it by myself…”

“Are you hungry? Well I heard about this new pizza spot that WE should totally tryout 😁.”

If you like to make clothes/jewelry/accessories he’ll totally wear it

Refuses to let you mess with his hair until like two years into knowing each other

Takes pride in his looks and you should too! Self care! Ofc you’re paying for any and all expenses🫶

Glorified sugar daddy😭

If you live with your parents…so does he

Congratulations you have a new brother 🩰

If you don’t he’ll offer to be roommates so he can get a cheaper rent

You’ll definitely meet Lady she is absolutely appalled at how you tolerate him constantly sarcastically ofc she knows he’s a good guy

If you’re into video games he’ll play with you granted he doesn’t have the money to pay for a game console so it’ll be on whatever console you have

Once he’s in your life he’s never leaving literally.

A best-friend for a lifetime

Adult Years

He probably saved you from some demons

Like if you met him in his teenage year he’d def start flirting

What can I say he stays true to himself

His personality would never change regardless of his aging

Still the same wacky woohoo pizza man we know and love

Thinks you look hot and invites you on a date which quickly just turns into a hangout after the LACK of romance

Still finds hanging with you to be fun and keeps a friendship

Even after establishing a friendship he still flirts here and there—force of habit

Would definitely teach you how to ride a motorcycle if you didn’t already know

More willing to let you mess with his hair

Like put it in pigtails or tie it up/braid it

Introduced you to the whole DMC gang

Now depending on the time period he’ll tell you about Vergil and his upbringing

He would totally tell you all about it after the events of DMC5 after he returns ofc!

I feel like he’s an animal guy so if you have any pets they’re now his pets too

Co-parenting core🩰

If you’re an artist he’ll be your muse/reference material any day

Loves the attention

Drunk dance nights

Karaoke too he doesn’t have the best singing voice but it’s not the worst

Since he’s a devil hunter he goes on missions a lot and seeing as you don’t want to get your shit rocked you stay behind

Cherishes every moment spent together and will make sure you know that

You always take him with you on vacations

How could you not???

He appreciates if you chip in helping him pay off his MASSIVE FUCKING DEBT

He doesn’t expect you to though

Despite being broke he stays stylish and if you asked would help you with fashion

Ofc he isn’t like BIG on fashion but cmon have you seen his looks? He dabbles

Immediately sees you after missions and starts ranting about the entire thing

“Can you believe it?! So obviously I shot that nasty bitch and it had the nerve to explode all over my jacket! It died so I can’t even get it to pay for a new one!”

“Don’t worry about why I smell like this worry about the fact that Trish totally took MY commission!”

Very dramatic but laid back too if that makes sense

Calls you cheesy nicknames that I will not elaborate on use your imagination 🗣️🫶

Enjoys live music and will go with you to concerts if you like

Shows you his demon form if you’re interested

Whatever your hobby is he’ll be interested

Would make sure nothing ever bad happened to you regarding devils ofc

Best bros for life and in death🫡