#he lost all of his aura or whatever the kids say

[serene-cinders]

They put his ass on ozempic I’m fucking crying

[sunderwight]

SV fic where Shen Yuan transmigrates into the former sect leader, Yue Qingyuan's shizun, right before Yue Qi shows up at the selection trials.

Shen Yuan is not sure why he's in one of his all-time hate-reads, let alone why he's gone so far back before the story actually begins (his system appears to be malfunctioning? something about an error and emergency backup...?), but he's making the most of it. This despite the fact that being a sect leader is a much more prestigious and political role than he likes.

But Shen Yuan is, at heart, actually a pretty good teacher, and he's spent enough time witnessing administrative work secondhand that he can competently tackle most of his duties. Whatever he can't handle, luckily there are other masters on Qiong Ding who always seem eager to curry favor by volunteering at the least hint that they should. Apparently his predecessor was known for being kind of cold-blooded and ruthless. (Shen Yuan gets checked for possession and it's concluded behind his back that he most have lost some of his memories, again, but also everyone kinda prefers this version anyway, again.)

But, so, he picks Yue Qi at the trials without even realizing at first who he's selecting, but just because that kid seems really determined to get in and clearly has been through it. Reminds him of Luo Binghe. Even when he puts it all together, all he feels mostly is kind of bad about it? He never thought Yue Qingyuan was sufficiently villainous to merit his end, even though he didn't blame Binghe for it either. He was always a mystery, an apparently kind person who nevertheless had some inexplicable fondness for the scum villain, turned a blind eye towards his abuses, and got dragged down with him. Shen Yuan feels even worse when he actually gets to know his solemn, smiling, secretive little disciple.

Yue Qi is very determined to advance, and as quickly as possible. Shen Yuan admonishes him. Obviously this kid has a protagonist-like aura and a similar drive to get places quickly, but you can't speedrun your disciple era, Mr. Future Sect Leader! There's no montage mode! Most of his attempts at intervening meet a brick wall that is Yue Qi's impenetrable smile and polite deference if he even hints at displeasure (this kid's gonna make a great politician one day), but Shen Yuan changes tactics and starts manufacturing excuses for breaks, taking Yue Qi on him with trips off the mountain and finding reasons to stop at local festivals and hot springs and etc. He can tell something's off with the quality of frustration that his disciple sometimes expresses, with how there's fear to it, but he's at a loss for the cause and it's difficult to get Yue Qi to talk. Despite appearances, he's actually very distrustful of adults.

When Yue Qi asks to claim his sword early, Shen Yuan says no. He remember how reputedly powerful Xuan Su was, and his disciple definitely needs a stronger base if he's going to pull a sword of that caliber. But he suspects this won't go over well, and when he catches Yue Qi sneaking off to Wan Jian Peak on his own, his disciple finally breaks down and admits that he needs to get strong in order to save his most important person.

Shen Yuan is moved. The way Yue Qi speaks, he's certain this person is a young maiden whom his student has fallen in love with. Truly, the sect leader was so very similar to Luo Binghe at heart! He must have failed in the original story, and that contributed to his difficulties and sorrows later on. Of course Shen Yuan will help him rescue his sweetheart!

Even if his sweetheart is... surprisingly butch? And is a slave owned by the Qiu family, and, wait a second, that name is kind of familiar... oh.

Oh dear.

Shen Yuan is internally screaming even as he helps buy Xiao Jiu out of bondage, even as he gives Yue Qi money to get his newly rescued friend all cleaned up and suitably dressed for the trip back to Cang Qiong, even as he buys the boys tanghulu for a treat, even as the System cheerfully informs him that his new quest is to get Xiao Jiu accepted onto Qing Jing Peak, even as Yue Qi tears up for the first time when he thanks him for helping.

He can only get to sleep that night by consoling himself with the knowledge that his generation is going to retire well before Luo Binghe and The Plot actually show up.

The System: (〜￣▽￣)〜

5 Years Later:

Huan Hua Palace Master: Sect Leader, we need your help! A terrible Heavenly Demon has come to threaten the whole of human society!

Shen Yuan: That's not possible. He isn't even born yet.

HHP Master: What?

Shen Yuan: What?

[luxaofhesperides]

a safe place to rest - duke

(part 3 of the harmless series)

Although he hears about the baby, Duke doesn't get to meet her for a few days.

He does meet someone else though: Danny.

"You need anything before I go?"

He doesn't want to leave Danny alone in the Hatch. Not out of mistrust or anything, but because he's sure that the moment he looks away, Danny's going to disappear again. It took so long just to convince him to take a moment to breathe, to rest and recover from whatever he's gone through.

There's a frantic sort of energy surrounding Danny that has his aura all messed up, which is the only reason Duke decided against letting anyone else know that he found Danny.

He got the basic rundown from the night shift, but he hadn't had time to look more into it before Danny was crashing into him during his day patrol, eyes wide and wild and looking like his world had just ended.

"You," Danny had gasped, "You're with—Batman? Please, take these." And he shoved a bag against Duke's chest.

He had to react fast to grab it, and then grab Danny when he all but collapsed against him.

Now, he sits on top of the spare bed Duke set up in the Hatch, pale and tired and quietly devastated. "I'm fine," he insists. "You don't need to do anything for me."

Duke frowns. "Uh, I absolutely do, you think I'm just gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Come on, man, that's not how I do things."

"You don't owe me anything."

"Obviously not. It's not about owing things. I'm doing this because you need help and I can give it."

"I can take care of myself," Danny says firmly, and Duke holds back a sigh. Yeah, this guy really is Batman's kid. Horrible self-care habits and all.

"You don't gotta, though. You get that, right? You can take one day off and just rely on me to take care of you until you're back on your feet."

"No."

Duke tries to shove his emotions down, to stay neutral and calm. This is a guy who came crashing into their lives, shoving a baby into Damian's arms, and then vanishing. This is a guy who's gone through way too much on his own. Of course he's not going to trust anyone. Duke knows well how heavy everything becomes when it feels like the world's against him. He can give Danny grace.

"Okay. Just so you know, I'm asking to be polite. I'm still going to grab some extra clothes for you, and a homemade meal, so you just stay here and get some sleep. We'll talk more when I get back from delivering all this to Batman." He lifts the bag Danny gave to him for emphasis, then pins the guy down with a hard stare. "You better be here when I get back, or I am going to have no one to show baby pictures to."

"…You're gonna check on Ellie?"

The clear concern and desperation in Danny's expression make him soften. "Yeah, man. I'll check on her and let you know how she's doing. That's why you gotta be here when I get back. Got it?"

Danny bites his lip, then nods slowly. "Yeah. Got it. Thank you."

"Get some sleep."

Duke pulls the door shut, setting the alarm system to quietly alert him if anyone goes in or out while he's not in the Hatch. There's a first aid kit on the table and some water bottles as well, but it's not going to be enough to really help Danny start to recover. Duke takes a moment to curse his past self for not better stocking his crash room for emergency visitors, but in his defense, he isn't in the habit of bringing anyone back to the Hatch, not even other Bats, when the Batcave is more suited for handling lots of people.

Well, it's something to work on in the future.

He doesn't get more than a few steps away when he hears the door opening behind him and looks back to see Danny poking his head out.

"Hey, before you go…"

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Can you maybe not tell anyone I'm here? I'm assuming you know who I am, since you know Ellie."

"Yeah, your Batman's first lost kid, right? Trust me, I've heard of you."

Danny winces. "Great. Figures. I just really need to not deal with all of them right now, so if you could keep all this quiet…"

Duke looks him over, takes in the paleness of his skin, how worryingly thin he is, the dark half-moons stamped under his eyes, and promptly decides then and there that the rest of the world is going to have to go through him to even think about going near Danny. It's a complicated situation he's in and if he needs time to prepare himself for meeting everyone else, who Duke knows from personal experience can be a lot, then Duke is going to make sure he has all the time he needs.

"You got it man. They won't hear a thing about this from me. I'll lock everyone else out of here, too, so you can rest easy. They ain't getting in here to bother you while I'm still around."

"Thank you," Danny says again, sagging against the doorframe. "I'm… I really need to sleep."

"Go crash," Duke says softly. "I can take care of things until you wake up."

Bruce is the only person in the Batcave when Duke arrives. He's bent over the Batcomputer, head in his hands, when Duke parks his motorcycle and heads for the stairs to meet him on the upper level. He keeps his footsteps purposefully loud so Bruce can track him as he makes his way over, Danny's bag slung over his shoulder.

"Rough night?" he asks, just to get the conversation started.

"Yes," Bruce sighs. "There have been a number of—changes."

"Oh. Good changes or bad changes?"

Bruce lifts his head as he considers the question, then rubs his temple. "Unclear. It's nice to see everyone working together for Ellie, but I'm—concerned."

"About what?"

"About Ellie. And everyone. And Danny."

Duke leans his weight against the desk and lets the bag drop off his shoulder, then holds it out to Bruce. "Well. I dunno if this will make things any better, but Danny threw this at me while I was on patrol. I took a quick look through it and, uh. It's kinda rough. It's what he went through and how Ellie was created."

Bruce snatches the bag from his hand and immediately begins rooting through it. "Is Danny—?"

"He vanished as soon as I grabbed the bag. I think he's got a few loose ends to tie up before he feels comfortable being here again."

"What did you think of him?"

Duke looks at Bruce, looks at the papers in his hands, and thinks of Danny. "I think he needs someone in his corner. I think we gotta lot to do to make the world safer for him and Ellie. I think he's been scared for a very long time."

Nothing in Bruce's expression changes, and there's no shift in his aura, his emotions tightly locked up as always. But Duke hasn't gotten this far without learning how to see the little things: Bruce's grip on the bag tightens, his feet shift farther apart, as though he's ready to leap up at a moment's notice, and his shoulders slump just slightly under the heavy weight of all the things he refuses to share.

Sighing, Duke tilts his head to look at Bruce more closely. "Why are you down here? It's the middle of the day."

"I'm researching."

A hand loosely gesturing to the large screen of the Batcomputer has Duke turning to see what Bruce has been so occupied with.

It's not case files, as he expected. It's not even research into Danny and what happened to him.

All that's there is PDFs upon PDFs of child psychology papers and essays on recovering from trauma and research on various methods to help children with failure to thrive and malnutrition and neglect.

There's also, in one window, different safety ratings of baby cribs.

Well. Let it be known that Bruce's love language is information.

"Cool. Have you spent any time with anyone since a baby got dropped in your lap?"

Bruce's silence is extremely telling.

Duke briefly considers trying to get Bruce to go upstairs, but he knows better than to pick a losing battle. Especially after he's handed him information on Danny.

At some point, Bruce will have to go upstairs, if only to eat. He's getting old, and his body can't quite keep going like it used to. Duke will let him deal with the consequences of his own actions, or lack of action, when that time comes. He's not a mediator or peace-keeper. Duke has other pressing matters to attend to.

Taking pictures of the baby for Danny is definitely more important than navigating the minefield of family tensions and miscommunications ever present with the Waynes.

Duke reaches out and claps a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Don't get so caught up in getting all the pieces together that you forget to actually spend time with family. They're gonna need you now more than ever," he says, and waits until Bruce meets his eyes and gives a resolute nod before Duke stands and heads for the stairs that will take up him to the manor.

The sooner he gets back to Danny, the better.

Ellie is cute.

This isn't a surprise. Most babies are cute, and Ellie is no exception.

What Duke hadn't been expecting is how protective Damian is of her, or how everyone else orbits around the two, just on the edge of hovering. Damian's prickly personality is well known, so the rest of the Waynes have taken to acting like cats: always on the same floor, ready to pop in should they be needed, but otherwise out of sight.

"Thomas," Damian greets quietly. Ellie is asleep in the baby wrap keeping her secure against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. Damian lowers his paintbrush, turning to give Duke his full attention.

Duke takes a hesitant step into Damian's studio, then walks up to him once he isn't hissed at to leave.

"So this is our newest troublemaker, huh?" he says, looking down at Ellie. "How's she doing?"

She's so small. Her head has some black hair on it, but it barely covers her ears.

Damian lays his brush down on the easel. "She's doing much better now that she's getting regular meals and care. She still doesn't make much noise. It is… concerning."

The raw fear and care in his gaze is what makes the words tumble out of Duke's mouth. "I have some news about Danny."

If anyone deserves to know about him, it's his little brother.

Damian's gaze snaps up to Dukes, a fierce light in them, and his hands raise to hold Ellie tightly. "What is it?"

"He gave me a bag while I was patrolling, then left. I looked through it before giving it to B, and it's all… I only read the papers, not anything on the flashdrives, but Danny went through some awful shit. He was captured and experimented on by some group called NOVA. They had him for some time doing tests before he was put in isolation for acting out. And then he kinda… went into a death-like stasis. They did more tests and took some bio-material from him to try to figure out how he was surviving in stasis, and used that to make Ellie with the genes of one of the other captured metas. Danny was in stasis for around seven years."

Reading about it, learning about what Danny went through made Duke's stomach turn. It was like something out of a nightmare. Duke knows the fears metas have to live with; he carries it too, a weight he can never put down.

There's a reason civilian metas try to keep their powers a secret. Metas go for a high price on the black market, are at a higher risk of human trafficking, are seen as the best test subjects by unethical scientists wanting to find some way to replicate those powers in other people or in weapons.

Summarizing the horrors Danny had to experience leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. The silence in the studio stretches long enough for Duke to regret opening his mouth. Damian's still a teenager. He may have had a different upbringing and be able to stomach what most people can't, but this is still his brother. Anyone would be rattled hearing about this.

Then, without a word, Damian stands. He storms out of the studio, leaving Duke to catch the stool he was sitting on before it hits the ground and wakes Ellie.

When he goes to catch up with Damian, the kid is already walking into another room, tension in every line of his body.

"Richard," he snaps quietly, and Duke watches as Dick pops up from where he was lounging on the floor on one of the softest rugs in the manor.

"Dami? What's wrong?"

Damian doesn't answer, just unwraps the baby sling and carefully passes a still sleeping Ellie over to Dick.

"Damian," Dick tries again, his voice hardening, demanding an answer even as he adjust Ellie in his arms to make sure she can continue sleeping comfortably.

"I need to speak with Father," Damian answers shortly. "I will be gone for some time. I am entrusting her to you."

Dick glances at Duke, who tries not to look too stressed or tense. He doesn't think it works.

Reaching out, Dick puts a hand on Damian's head, managing to ruffle his hair for a few seconds before Damian steps away, batting at his hand with a scowl. "Alright," Dick says, "But I'm sending someone to get you for dinner if you're not back by then."

Damian nods, then turns on his heel and leaves for Bruce's office.

Neither of them move until they're sure that Damian is out of earshot.

"What was that about?" Dick asks, lowering himself down onto the rug again, one hand rubbing small circles against Ellie's back.

Duke sighs. "You'll find out soon. Just... chill for now and let me get some cute baby pictures."

Dick, as he finds out, is actually pretty good at helping Duke get the cutest pictures of Ellie.

And when Ellie blinks her little blue eyes open, Duke's heart melts and he understands how she's got everyone wrapped around her fingers.

NOVA, whatever remains of them, is going to regret ever hurting Danny and Ellie.

Danny is asleep when Duke returns. He sleeps through the night, and when Duke wakes up early the next morning to make sure he hasn't disappeared, Danny remains motionless in his bed.

Is he in stasis again? Duke wonders, panicked, as he rushes into his crash room and gently shakes Danny, trying to wake him up.

It takes a few tries before Danny lets out a soft noise in the back of his throat. He turns his face into the pillow, then abruptly tenses up and shoots out of bed. In a blink, Danny's on the other side of the room, flying up to the ceiling where Duke can't easily reach him.

Hands up, palms open, Duke says, "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. How're you feeling?"

Danny sucks in a few deep breaths before he slowly floats down to the floor. His eyes are still too wide and there's a faint tremble in his hands. "Fine," he answers blankly.

"Up for eating something? I did promise you food and baby pictures."

Unsurprisingly, it's the mention of Ellie that gets Danny moving and brings some light back to his eyes. He follows Duke out into the main room of the Hatch. There's not really a kitchen in here, but there is a fridge and a microwave, which is enough for now.

One of his workstations has been cleared off and now has chairs around it to turn it into a makeshift dining table. On it, Duke's left a tupperware of French toast, made the way he remembers his dad making them when he was a kid, and as well as a store-bought container of cut fruit.

It's not really a lot, but it's what he could do on a short notice.

Danny takes a seat, and Duke settles in on the other side of the table, pulling out his phone to flip through the many pictures he took of Ellie.

Duke keeps up a light commentary as Danny slowly eats, sharing little stories about the Waynes and all the nonsense they get up to. That turns into sharing stories about the stupid shit he and his friends gets into, followed by some of the weirdest things criminals have done to try to get away from him, including the one that said 'nuh-uh!' when Duke said carjacking is the lamest crime to commit in Gotham.

That story gets Danny to smile, and it takes way too much effort to keep from celebrating it.

All the while, Danny slowly looks through each photo of Ellie, making sure she's okay. He looks so fond and sad that it's breaking Duke's heart, and he swears to himself then and there that he's going to do whatever he can to reunite them.

"Don't you have hero things to do?" Danny asks. It's the first thing he's said since they both sat down.

Duke shrugs. "Nah, not right now. Gotham can wait. You're my priority right now."

"You don't have to—"

"Nope. If you don't want anyone else to know you're here, then you're gonna have to deal with me."

Danny squints at him. "You're both very chill and very stubborn."

"It's the only way I was able to survive working with the other Bats."

"They sound… interesting."

"You can say they're a hot mess," Duke laughs. "But hey, who isn't?" He watches as Danny pushes around the last half of the French toast around the tupperware and straightens up from where he was leaning on the table. "Want me to put that up for you? You can finish it later."

Danny looks down at his plate, then slowly nods. "Yeah. Sorry."

"No worries. You went through some shit. It's not surprising that you don't have much of an appetite." Duke reaches over the table to pop the lid back on the tupperware, then stands to put it in the fridge.

When he turns back, Danny is no longer visible.

Or, at least, his physical body isn't visible. Duke can still easily see his aura, a vibrant green that has streaks of white moving through it like a current of water, which leaves an outline of his body. Danny is also trying to sneak out of the Hatch.

"Oh," he says, "I didn't know you had invisibility. That's pretty cool. I can still see you, by the way."

Danny becomes visible again, glaring at Duke.

"That's such a Batman move," Duke grins, "I should have expected it."

"What was a Batman move?"

"Sneaking away as soon as I turned around. B does that all the time with the Commish. And everyone else, honestly. Though, to be fair, we all do it because we all learned from him. Yeah, you'll have no trouble fitting in with us."

"I don't think what I'm doing should count, since I'm using powers."

"Dude, watch this."

Duke makes sure Danny's looking at him, then bends the light around him to hide him from view. He can see the exact moment Danny realizes he's vanished when his eyes go wide and he takes a few steps closer.

"Signal?"

"Still here," Duke reassures. "Haven't moved an inch." Then he releases his grip on the light around his head, a fun little trick he figured out a few years ago that makes it look like he's a floating, decapitated head. The goons always love that one.

Danny looks at his head. Looks at his invisible body. Then looks back to his head. "That is freaky," he says, a slow smile dawning across his face. "I can do that too."

And sure enough, Danny's body becomes invisible, save for the outline of it in his aura, and now there's just two floating heads in the Hatch.

He's not sure who cracks first, but in no time, they're laughing like everything's alright. Danny's expression brightens and suddenly he's years younger, all the stress falling off his shoulders in the face of their mirth. Like this, he could be any other guy in one of Duke's classes, talking nonsense just to pass the time, quick to laugh and without a care in the world.

This is what he wants for Danny.

This ease, this calm, this lightness in his heart: Duke will keep them safe for Danny.

If nothing else, Duke can be a safe place to land for another meta who needs, more than anything, someone willing to be there for him.

(masterpost for all parts)

[ma1dita]

crazy little thing

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies

(posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)

—

“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!” 

Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.

Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.

“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?” he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long. 

“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.

Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”

The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.

“Right… she’s just a friend.”

Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.

Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother. 

“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”

The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.

Why are feelings so damn complicated? 

It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.

“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).

“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.

“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”

If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.

—

Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual. 

Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.

Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head. 

That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?

Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table…. You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.

You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.

Nothing gets past you at this point.

But that sucks too sometimes, you know?

Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime. 

So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.

The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection. 

Devotion. 

To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away. 

That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not. 

But you two are just friends. 

Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.

Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.

If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.

You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids… and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable… or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.

“Take a break, Trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.

“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.

“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”

“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).

Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready for anything that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.

“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin. 

Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.

“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.

There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.

“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.

“Heh… I think they were just practicing or something…”

He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience. 

Fucking hustlers.

—

The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.

“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.  

“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”

Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin. 

“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.

“Oops.” 

Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.

“You've already got Trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.

The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.

“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”

“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.

“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.

“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”

“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, Trouble?”

Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees.

Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stolls put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.

“You gonna charge him again?”

A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.

“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.

“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.

“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”

—

Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.

“Wanna get out of here?”

You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"

"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.

"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"

Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.

"Don't worry about it."

He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.

"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.

"Why's that?"

"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"

He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.

“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"

You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.

 “Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”

You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.

In short, he’s fucked.

"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.

But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.

I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places... That this heart of mine embraces...

You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.

“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.

“Only if it makes you laugh.”

And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.

I’ll always think of you that way… I’ll find you in the morning sun….

Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.

“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.

“No, you don’t.”

His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.

“I don’t.”

And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon… but I’ll be seeing you…

It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.

Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart. 

“Thank you.”

Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on.

When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.

—

“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.

“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.

“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”

“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.

“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”

“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.

—

“My body ages,

my anger burns into a seam.

I am so annoyed by love

and still it comes.”

-Kate Baer

ask to be added to luke/general taglists!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: Cellbit runs an alchemy shop with his family, and he's also the lost prince of the Gato Kingdom, but he isn't, but he really really isn't, you've gotta believe him, he isn't, really, he isn't, you've gotta-

For day seven of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week - Royalty/Family

-

The day starts off normally:

Cellbit wakes up to find himself alone in bed, Roier having already gone to work downstairs in the store.

He lazes beneath the covers before hearing his son shouting in the other room. Grudgingly, he gets up, slides on his slippers and his bathrobe, and he goes to get Richarlyson settled with a new coloring book because, according to Richarlyson, Pepito ate the last one.

(Pepito did not eat the last one.)

Cellbit goes back into his bedroom to change, and then he goes to the wash basin in the hallway to brush his teeth and wash his face. He goes to the kitchen, shoves a singe slice of bread in his mouth for breakfast, tells the kids to behave, decides to live in ignorance and believe that they actually listened to him, and then, finally, he goes downstairs to help Roier with the shop.

That's when things get weird because, instead of the normal dozen or so customers they usually get in the mornings before things get busy, there are a handful of people in shiny armor with pointy swords, and there's a woman with cat ears leaning against the counter talking at an indifferent Roier.

Cellbit freezes on the stairs. Absently, his hands raise to his own ears, thankfully pinned down today with his alchemical goggles. He tends to have them out more days than not now, but. Well. Old habits die hard.

"I really don't know what you're talking about," Roier casually say. He isn't even looking at the woman, he's, instead, inspecting his nails- recently painted by Jaiden and absolutely adorable, just like he is. "But we do have a sale on luck potions if you wanna try one of those."

The woman's eyebrow twitches, and, for whatever reason, Cellbit doesn't think that she's here to buy something. Between the fine quality of her clothes and the literal knights with her and her entire aura, she just screams royalty, and that's a bad thing.

That's a really bad thing.

But Roier seems to have it under control, so, silently, Cellbit starts sneaking back up the stairs. If Roier needs him, he'll scream, and then Cellbit will rush down and kill everybody in the room and blame it on a sudden alchemical reaction gone wrong. Easy.

Except:

The door to the living quarters slams open and Pepito comes rushing out of it with tears streaming down his face.

"Apa!" he cries, leaping into Cellbit's arms and nearly sending him stumbling back down the stairs. "Richarlyson ate my crayons and now he's dying!"

(Richarlyson is not dying.)

Cellbit can practically smell the irritation coming off of Roier, even if he can't see him with his back turned to both him and the store and the really annoying royalty inside.

And, sure, Cellbit is annoyed, too, but he's also a father. So he just sighs and holds his son and lets him cry into his shoulder.

"Who's there?" one of the knights asks.

There's the sound of a sword being drawn, and then there's the sound of another sword being drawn and, really, is a peaceful retirement too much to ask for? Pac and Mike got one. Bad got one. Even Etoiles has some sort of retirement plan he's supposedly following between father-daughter dungeon-busting field trips.

The way Pepito is being held has him looking down the stairs and at the very rude people about to kill his parents, so Cellbit turns around so that Pepito is facing the door instead. He's always preferred looking danger in the face, anyway; it's much easier to be stabbed in the back than the front, after all.

Cellbit passively looks from one knight to another. He skips his eyes over the woman entirely. He catches Roier's eye, subtly rolls his own eyes, adjusts his hold on Pepito.

"Sorry," Cellbit says, "but my son is dying. I'll be right back."

"He's dead!" Pepito wails, ever-helpful. He's such a good kid.

The woman frowns. Cellbit doesn't think he likes her face. It's too... uncanny, like a doll come to life. Or, rather, like an image escaped from the mirror above the wash basin, and Cellbit does not like the implications of that, thanks.

As the knights start to advance, the woman holds up a hand to stop them.

"Hurry up," she says.

"Yeah," Roier agrees. "Tell Richas to die quicker, we have company."

Pepito screeches right into Cellbit's ear, making him wince very angrily in Roier's direction; all Roier does is wink and motion with his fingers for Cellbit to hurry up.

Cellbit quickly takes Pepito back into their living quarters and puts him down on the sofa.

Richarlyson is on the floor, very calm, very much not dying, and very much using Pepito's crayons in his own coloring book.

Pepito gasps, tears gone and replaced with wide, shocked eyes.

"But you ate them!" he exclaims.

Cellbit sighs, "Your brother is a magician, now can you two please behave for ten minutes while Roier and I deal with those people downstairs?"

Richarlyson's head perks up. "There are people downstairs?"

Cellbit nods. "Bad people, probably. If you hear glass breaking, you know what to do."

It's Richarlyson's turn to nod.

They have a plan. If things go down in the shop, Richarlyson and Pepito stay upstairs and hide until either Cellbit or Roier goes to get them. If the kids hear glass breaking, they are to escape out their bedroom window and climb down the tree outside and run to their Uncle Bad's house until Cellbit and Roier can get rid of the bad guys and save the day.

(Roier's words, not Cellbit's. Apparently, calling unruly customers or the police "the enemy" is bad. Go figure.)

Cellbit makes the kids both pinky promise him to follow the plan before letting out a long, stressed-out breath and starting back downstairs.

First, though, he dips into the kitchen and grabs his favorite butcher knife from off of the counter and tucks it into the custom-made sheath hidden beneath his jacket. Just in case.

Once downstairs, he's immediately manhandled by the knights until he's pushed up against the counter. Unfortunately, he isn't pushed behind the counter. But at least he can act as a shield... just in case.

On instinct, Cellbit reaches behind himself and takes Roier's hand. Roier takes it and squeezes gently, his thumb rubbing little circles into the skin by his thumb.

"Well," Cellbit says, looking from the knights to the woman, "you want something. What is it."

It isn't a question. It's more of a demand, really, and maybe he's stupid for demanding answers of royalty, but, like. Fuck the monarchy. What have they ever done for him?

The woman speaks: "We're looking for whichever one of you is Cellbit."

If they weren't already pinned down, Cellbit's ears would be flattening themselves to the top of his head. He bites back a hiss and instead just squeezes Roier's hand.

The woman continues with, "I'd like to bring him back with us to-"

"Yeah, okay," Roier casually says. "I'm Cellbit, hello."

Out of the corner of his eye, Cellbit can see Roier waving; he stifles a smile. He's so stupid...

Cellbit turns around and gasps dramatically. "Gatinho, no! You can't leave us!"

Roier bites his lip and looks away, turning his head to the side.

"But guapito," he says, dropping his voice an octave just for effect, "if I don't go, then... what about you and the children? They might-" (He moans and bows his head.) "-kill you. And then what would I do with myself?"

"Oh, don't worry!" the woman quickly says. "We won't hurt your family! That's why we're here, actually, to bring you and your family with us."

Cellbit ignores her. He reaches across the counter and cups Roier's cheek with his free hand, gently nudges his face until he raises his head and looks Cellbit in the eye; Roier's eyes are already wet with unshed tears, wow, he's good.

"But what will I do without you?" Cellbit demands, pitching his voice up just slightly. "Don't be stupid! I love you, pendejo!"

(They do this a lot, believe it or not. It drives Richarlyson crazy every time they do it because it somehow always ends up with them kissing until they're out of breath and shaky in the knees.)

"Não!" Roier cries. He squeezes his eyes shut and rips himself away from Cellbit entirely, staggering back and leaning against a display shelf full of anti-gravity potions. "Don't say that!"

"Say what?" Cellbit asks. "I love you!"

Roier screams and flinches against the case. "Não!"

Cellbit leans over the counter. "I love you."

Roier moans his time, his hands flying out wildly and grasping onto seemingly-random bottles on the shelf. "Não!!"

Cellbit extends a hand. "I. Love. You. Te amo, guapito."

One of the knights asks, "What the fuck is going on?"

And then the knights all start shouting as Roier opens his eyes and lunges to shove a potion into Cellbit's hands.

Cellbit grins and yanks the cork out of the bottle and chugs the potion and slams the empty bottle against the floor. It shatters, and he jumps.

"What the fuck?" the woman demands.

Cellbit twists mid-air and lands on the ceiling. He waves down at Roier, blows him a kiss, and takes off running for the back potion room. The door is closed, but the ventilation window above the door is open because he was supposed to be making potions right now. Silver linings.

He dives through the window, just barely managing to squirm through. He grunts, frowns, regrets getting this old, makes it through.

His goggles are nudged off of his head, though, leaving his ears on full display as he escapes into the potion room.

The woman gasps, "Get back here! Cellbit!"

But Roier just cheers, "Corre, gatinho!"

The potion room's door thuds and shakes in its hinges as the knights all slam against it. But, like, fuck those guys.

Cellbit runs down the length of the ceiling until he's reached the wall facing the alley behind the shop. He steps onto the wall, and then he runs down that until he's by the window. Again, ventilation, he should be working right now, but no, he can never know a moment of peace.

The potion starts running out just as Cellbit crawls through the window and lands on the shop's outside wall. He wrinkles his nose at the smell, but it's fine. Just trash, it's fine.

There's shouting from the front of the shop and the sounds of more bottles shattering. Roier sounds fine, though. He's even laughing, of course he is. He's badass, and Cellbit loves him, and Cellbit just wishes he was there to watch Roier swing his sword around like the sexy piece of shit he is.

The potion's effects wear off as Cellbit's feet touch the ground; two minutes, just as he'd made it to be.

He can see Richarlyson and Pepito running for it at the far end of the alley. Good, they actually followed directions for once.

Cellbit turns to run after them and get Bad's help, but he's stopped by a firm hand grabbing his shoulder from behind.

He snarls and pulls his knife out of his coat, spinning and slashing and just narrowly missing the woman's throat.

"Cellbit!" she shouts. "Calm down, it's just me!"

Cellbit responds by lunging at her with his teeth bared. He's been filing his teeth down for years, but he knows that he still cuts an intimidating figure when he's pissed enough.

The woman doesn't seem afraid, though. If anything, she just seems angry. And sad. Mostly angry.

She easily sidesteps his attack and yells, "It's me! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Oh, that's cute. Royalty asking why someone would want to hurt them, that's funny. They have the self-awareness of a walnut, all of them.

"Stop shouting 'it's me'!" Cellbit snaps. "Why should I care who you are?"

The woman's face starts turning red from frustration. "Because I'm your sister!"

Oh, that's rich.

"I don't have a sister," Cellbit sneers.

He swipes at her. Of course he does, he doesn't have a sister. He didn't have a family before he and the others found Richarlyson, and he only has one now that he has his kids and his husband.

"Then why do we have the same ears?" the woman demands.

She ducks under his knife and sweeps his legs out from under him. He falls and hisses and growls and does all sorts of things that princes might do because he isn't royalty. He knows that for certain. His first memory was him eating the corpse of a soldier on an empty battlefield, and it's with that image in mind that he snaps his teeth at the woman's throat.

"Only the royal family of the Gato Kingdom is born with feline features," the woman snaps. "Idiot!"

"Fuck the Gato Kingdom," Cellbit spits. "Your war destroyed everything I had!"

The woman's eyes turn sad. "It destroyed everything I had, too. It took my family from me. My friends. My home. We're just now starting to rebuild, and-"

She shrieks as Cellbit manages to flip their positions so that she's the one being pinned to the ground.

"So you show up and try kidnapping someone to fill in for your lost prince?" he snarls. "You people haven't changed."

The woman's mouth thins into an angry line. "I'm not trying to kidnap you! I just want to bring you home!"

"I don't have a home! This is my home!"

"You really don't remember, do you?" she asks, voice low. She isn't even struggling any more, not really. "It's me, your sister. Bagi."

The name stings Cellbit's brain in a way he doesn't like.

"I don't know you," he firmly says. "You don't know me. Leave my family alone."

He stands, hands shaking, head spinning. He doesn't like this.

Roier calls his name from the front of the building.

Cellbit, sure that this Bagi won't do anything while she's busy crying, turns and starts running towards the store.

He doesn't make it three steps before getting thwacked in the back of the head with something large and heavy and metal.

"Sorry," Bagi flatly says.

As he falls to the ground, his knife falls from his hand and ends up just out of reach.

He lands on his stomach and immediately tries standing again.

But he's stopped by a foot on his back pressing him down.

"I'll be sure to bring your family with us," Bagi tells him. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Could have fooled me," Cellbit mutters.

Darkness takes him at last as Bagi smacks him again with her weapon, and all Cellbit can think is that he hopes that the kids ended up making it to Bad's after all.

[silverbladexyz]

TW: Mentions of death, injuries, self-loathing. Part 2 to this. Part 3 is here.

"I can't believe you sometimes. What if you had actually been killed because of your recklessness?!"

"But I wasn't! Even if combat isn't my strong suit, I had it all under control; and besides, these wounds are nothing compared to what we've faced before!"

In the normally tranquil environment of the Port Mafia's infirmary, two voices argued back and forth. One laced with worry and anger, the other laced with guilty adamance. A pair of best friends seemed to be the reason behind this noise; with their stubbornness a guise of the true feelings that they harboured for each other.

"Are you seriously kidding me right now? Even if you had it all under control, that doesn't mean you can gamble your life away like it's nothing! How do you think everyone would feel if you died? Do you want to put them through more pain and suffering that could've been prevented if you were more cautious? Do you even care?!"

"..."

Instead of replying, you turned away, suddenly finding the window to be more interesting than whatever was going on right now.

He was right. You didn't think properly about the consequences before you jumped straight in to engage with the enemy, even if you may have had a backup plan.

"... I'm sorry."

It was soft, but Chuuya managed to catch it.

He gave a small sigh, his shoulders dropping as the tension in them wore out. You fiddled with your bandages, not having the courage to look at him in the eyes. Did you even deserve to, afterall? When you worried him sick after he learnt that he almost lost you?

You heard his footsteps approaching you, and mentally prepared for the next thing that he was going to say.

Only for him to somewhat tug you into his arms.

Your eyes widened, and you blinked several times before realising that Chuuya Nakahara, your best friend, was hugging you.

His breath fanned against your collarbone as he buried his face into your shoulder. Strong arms held you close to him, being mindful of the injuries that you sustained on your body- yet the grip they held you in was tight but secure.

"... You idiot. Don't you dare do that again."

It was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him.

You hugged him back, inhaling his rich scent as an unknown heat bloomed in your chest.

"I won't. I promise, Chuuya."

His warmth never left your memories.

Now, you watched as he stood with her, holding her hand. They were too far away for you to make out their words, but whatever she said made Chuuya laugh. A genuine, happy laugh that seemed so much more different from the short chuckles he normally gave you.

He put his arm around her shoulder, and you unconsciously hugged your body as you felt yourself getting colder. It was the third of December- the start of another winter in Yokohama. Marking the six month anniversary of their relationship.

A wry smile made it's way on your face as Chuuya pulled Yasuko in for a kiss. Even though it was a short peck, it was enough to make your heart twist in longing that exemplified whenever you were around him. It was stupid; you knew that your best friend deserved to have someone much better than the monster you were, but it didn't stop you from wishing that you were her. Someone that was a sight for sore eyes, with an aura brighter than the blue skies- someone that could get Chuuya mesmerised.

You even noticed how he became slightly more distant in the friendship. You knew that he wasn't doing it on purpose; he was still the great best friend that he always was, but the little signs were there. Holding your hand so that you wouldn't get lost in the crowd had diminished to just staying close to you. Whenever you called him on a free day to ask if he wanted to hang out with you, he would apologise, saying 'I have a date with Yasuko later'. And the fact that you had the same free days really said something about how much they meant to him.

You walked away, the sight getting too much to handle. Once you were at a safe distance, you crumpled against a wall, biting down on the inside of your mouth to stop the tears from leaking out. A higher-ranking mafioso like you, crying over some crush? Pathetic. An unfitting model for your subordinates who looked up to you as a great unflinching leader.

"Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty." You chuckled bitterly, digging your nails into your palms. You hated it- the soft gaze in Chuuya's eyes whenever Yasuko was mentioned, the way that he gently held her hand, the way he became much more sweet and patient with her that was almost nothing like how he acted around you- you hated it all. You regretted not confessing to him sooner all those years ago.

But you were only the side character in their romance; forever doomed to support them while you suffered in silence.

Was there something or somebody that you could blame for this agony that you were currently in? Destiny, perhaps? Or even Cupid? Those names only made you scoff as you stuffed your hands into your pockets.

There was nobody you could blame except for yourself.

Perhaps it would have been better if you were the one who saved Yasuko, not Chuuya. They would have never spent as much time with each other, and you'd still have a chance at romancing him. None of this would have happened if the roles were reversed at that time.

But who were you kidding? One way or another, they’d end up together by the red string of fate. The most perfect match in all of Yokohama that could put every other couple to shame. And you'd always be the third wheel- the 'best friend' whose sacrifices went unseen just so that they could be happy.

Or maybe it would have been better if Yasuko didn't exist in the first place.

"-Y/N? Y/N?"

A voice broke you out of your thoughts, and you blinked a bit before refocusing onto the girl in front of you.

"Is everything okay? N-not that you have to tell me what's wrong, but if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll always be here for you."

Yasuko looked at you with a concerned expression, her eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

Those innocent, beautiful eyes of hers that had held Chuuya captive in their gaze.

Ah, right. You were currently in the shopping mall with her, because her boyfriend had asked you to accompany her like some sort of bodyguard. And who were you to refuse, as his best friend who was always there for him? Well, you were grateful that Chuuya trusted you enough to let you near Yasuko. You had seen how protective he was of her.

"... Nothing. I'm alright."

You smiled at her, all traces of your previous emotions now gone. How could you have let your composure slip so easily? This hangout was so that you could 'get closer' with her, not reminiscing about the pathetic past that held you captive in this agonising love.

She frowned a little, but before she could say anything else, you jumped at the opportunity to distract her. Anything that could make you temporarily forget your pain for one moment was what you desperately needed now.

"Oh, looks like they're selling discounted jewellery! Let's take a look! You might find something that you like."

Grabbing her wrist, you dragged her towards the jewellery store despite having no intentions to buy anything. You simply wanted her to be distracted by the precious stones, so meticulously cut and fit into fine metal that it was laughable how they were mostly for show. A valuable trinket only made to be admired and forgotten at the end of the day, even when so much blood had been spilled over them. Blood that would forever stain the hands of a sinner such as you.

"Oh! I remember Chuuya taking me to a similiar store! He bought me a ring; I said that there was no need, but he insisted." Yasuko glanced down at the gold-and-red circlet that lay snugly around her index finger, her gaze becoming shyer as she profoundly remembered the day that her beloved boyfriend had bought it for her.

Your own silver ring that he gifted to you on your 18th birthday paled in comparison to the 5-carat Burmese ruby that sat atop her finger. It was a harsh reminder of who the buyer really preferred from between the two of you. That twisted feeling in your gut resurfaced, but you pushed it back down. You had no more frivolous hopes that he would one day realise you were the one whom he truly belonged with.

"Haha... did he now? I didn't know Chuuya was such a romantic. Did you know that rubies symbolise passionate and undying love?" You smiled as she blushed; the redness on her cheeks rivaling the shade of the precious gemstone that was proof of his commitment to her.

People were right when they said love hurts, but they never mentioned that it was the most painful sensation in the world. All the stab wounds and burns and whatnot that you had experienced from your enemies were nothing compared to a broken heart. A heart that was made to be torn apart to pieces as it weeps for the love it would never get.

Something cold brushed against your wrist, and you looked down to see a bracelet made up of the most exquisite yellow topaz. Yasuko held an identical one in her hand, her expression almost bashful as she faced you.

"I... I wanted to get matching bracelets for the two of us. I know it's only been a few months since we became friends, but being around you has really brightened up my life. I'm glad that we got to meet each other, and I hope that our friendship continues to grow and strengthen!"

She smiled at you; a smile so full of purity and beauty that it would've made many men fall onto her knees in front of her. It was a smile that didn't belong in the dark depths of Yokohama- instead, it belonged to a goddess that was too good for this world. A goddess that clearly deserved to call Nakahara Chuuya hers. Just seeing that smile made you feel infinitely more guilty about the nasty thoughts you had about her each night.

Yasuko's smile faded, worried that she might have overstepped your boundaries due to your silence.

"S-sorry... I should've asked you beforehand if you wanted to buy matching bracelets. Please don't force yourself to buy it just to make me happy-"

You shut her up by slipping it onto your right wrist, the topaz seeming to reflect the sun's golden rays back at you. Shooting her a smile, you grasped Yasuko's hand and put the other bracelet onto her left wrist joint. It fit nicely; just like anything else that she wore.

"May our friendship last until death do us part." It was a pact that you had sworn with Chuuya before. And you always kept your word, never breaking a promise to someone no matter how bizarre or extreme it was.

How unfortunate, really, that death did you apart too early.

@circinuus @riiwrites @ruanais @justcallmesakira @yasu-masashige @oldworldpoolhall @heartsfourdazai @ashthemadwriter-uwu @sariel626 @yuugen-benni @chocsra @iridescentdove

[nocturnalpl4gue]

༊ ⊹ ˚. Yan!Enki and Ragnvaldr x reader 🕸️

CW: Obsessive behaviour, guilt tripping (Enki being Enki), depiction of violent urges, being tied up, bloodplay, biting, borderline cannibalism as a love metaphor, friends to one-sided enemies, slightly suggestive.

Enki never thought of himself as the affectionate type, never has and never will, but when it comes to you, oh that smile of yours, those bruised limbs from the dungeon struggles, that strong will you could consider contagious; he yearned for it all, for it to belong to him.

Those thoughts keep buzzing around in his head whilst he reads and reads on the dirty library within the main hall, while you were right next to him, looking at his irritated expression with shaky pupils and an unsteady breath. He couldn’t focus with you like this, or him filled with so many thoughts by that matter.

“i can’t focus with you staring at me like that” Enki scowls. “you know, you should appreciate that i brought you here with me, and sharing my knowledge with you in the first place”. Those words make you feel like you’re pouring salt on a wound, but Enki has no ill intentions whatsoever, at least in his point of view.

You decide you look down in and stay silent, but your action is interrupted by a lanky hand grabbing your face by the cheeks, making you look up at the priest’s hollow eyes. “tch. can’t believe one can be so ungrateful” again with the foul words. He has always been the mysterious type, but this behaviour towards you was new. He has drawn sigils nearby every exit to prevent you from leaving, and still he won’t say a word unless it is to complain. He grabs your face tighter and frowns, mumbling to himself. “Why is it that you….”

What you don’t understand is he’s doing this out of pure fear. Not fear of losing, or death, or violence or whatever one could be thinking about, but fear of the feeling that creeps up to his head every time he glances at you. He wants to hold you, to grab you so tight he invades the cavities of your body and rips your heart out, to treasure it like a gem. He wants to kiss you until your skin wears out, and to know your every emotion. Love, he thinks, is something he wasn’t meant to feel. And so he doesn’t know how to behave, lost in a maze made from his own insecurities.

He sighs, trying to remember what those cheesy romance novels he read as a kid told. Enki, still with your face in his hand, plants his dry lips against yours, lapping them with an awkward lick. He looks at your shocked expression. “You don’t seem disgusted.” He mutters. “I assume that is one of the reasons why i put up with your whining.” He continues, acting all tough and indifferent as if his heart wasn’t jumping out of his chest. That kiss, if you could call it one, made everything click in his head. He needs you to be by his side at all times, to channel his insanity and transfuse it into passion. All he wanted right now from the overwhelming emotions that engulfed him, was to tear your skin apart, to pulverise your bones and carry you around like his personal doll. You’re his; the Gods predetermined you two meeting in the hellhole this dungeon is, to save each other, and stay together forever.

“You’re awfully quiet today. I hope you stay like this and follow my orders while we’re in here, or i’ll break your legs and drag you around.” He had this threatening aura around him as these words spewed out his mouth. But it wasn’t with an ill intent, no? He loved you after all, he thinks so at least.

All this was for your own good, he convinces himself; you need him to stay alive, otherwise you’d be mutilated on the floor for the guards to take pleasure with already. So of course you love him, you have to. And he loves you too, for the rest of eternity.

Even an outlander such as Ragnvaldr has felt love once, but he has also felt sorrow, rage and pain. Those former emotions that haunted him still haunt him now, and are very present in his actions. Alas here he was, covered in blood from head to toe. It’s hard to see which is the enemy’s and which is his own.

The dungeon remains radio silent for the first time in possibly decades, or even centuries. The guards were no more, and so were the lizardmen, yellow mages, cave dwellers, a man who seemed to become a God, and the list goes on. He killed them all. His revenge has been fulfilled, so what now? It was only you and him traversing the passageways and bloody pits that kept him entertained.

Ah, that’s right. You. You’re a nice one to be with, aren’t you? So kind of you to stay by his side while he tainted the walls red, while his bloodlust was satiated. You were like a little lost dog always stepping on your tail, grabbing onto the outlander’s cape to encourage yourself to take another step. And he enjoys that a lot, the fact that you’re always latched to him made him feel the same about you, craving your touch and presence at all times.

So here you were, in a dark, musty room with your arms and legs tied up with your own torn clothing. The humid cold breeze hit the cuts and wounds decorating your body, making you flinch. But what makes you straight up wince is the sound of echoed steps coming closer. It was Ragnvaldr, the man who saved you countless times and you developed a bond with, who now looked at you over your shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re alright while i was out. I found some resources.” He says while crouching next to you. “Here, i got you some bread” You look at him numbly as he pulls out a piece of bread, surprisingly in a fairly good state. “Open up” He directs the piece to you mouth but it remains sealed tight, refusing whatever he gave you. You’d rather starve than accept what the man you used to trust with your life provided. He however wasn’t having it, looking at you with a light frown and pressing the fingers of his free hand against your lips. Without saying a word, he pushes until his fingers enter your warm mouth, opening it with spit coating his hand. With that, he tears a piece of the bread and puts it between your palate and jaw, forcing you to chew on it.

“See? it wasn’t that hard…you need to eat or you will die here, cold and in pain.” He says as if nothing was wrong. Ever since some time ago, could be weeks or days, you lost count at this point, the outlander has been acting out of his mind. At first you thought the insanity of the dungeon got to him, but he reassured you he was okay, that if you were there with him everything was okay. He killed the monsters in gruesome ways, tearing their tendons out with his teeth and crushing their heads with a stomp. It was like he was letting out emotions he didn’t want to go through, and now they all burst out onto an obsessive love and overprotection.

He loves you so much, he really does. So much that he starts shaking while looking at his fingers full of spit, embracing you tightly with his nails damaging your exposed back. It stung. His embrace got tighter, and tighter, much like a snake that caught its prey. He wasn’t letting go, his shaking getting heavier and laboured breathing leaving his mouth. “i love you.” he says. “i love you, i love you” He just keeps on repeating the same sentence over and over, that is until he, without a single thought in his head, bites down hard on your collarbone. You let out a hiss and try to push him off, but he’s too heavy. He just keeps gnawing and clenching his jaw around the bony appendage, so much that blood falls much like the tears around your eyes.

“It hurts….” You manage to let out. But he’s not listening. Much like a hound he has gone absolutely feral, embracing your entirety with his bulky body. His hands claw onto your spine leaving marks, and his legs are wrapped around your waist. He lets go, and switches to your neck, biting just as hard. Like he was starving he licks the blood away, no kisses and no passion put into it, just pure desperation. After protesting more and more the pain just numbs out with the rest, and you decide to relax, and stay in his arms while he devours you away. “i love you” he says, and your mind goes blank.

[fyxestroll]

Ranking primarchs based on how well they'd react if you spoke brain rot to them

20. Unnamed Primarchs II and XI - lost so much aura they dissapeared from existence

19. Konrad Curze - how did you even get close to this man to say skibidi?? why of all things did you say skibidi???

18. Angron - words like skibidi, sigma, aura, beta and mog have the same effect on him as the Nails and honestly its understandable

17. Perturabo - would look you dead in the eye because this man is a bit of a piss baby and this is him in a good mood. him in a bad mood involves an object or two being thrown and him looking like you like an angry bull.

16. Mortarion - he won't harm you but he'd harm everyone mentally by embracing the brainrot. he's gonna believe you're sick like blessed by nurgle's sick. he's going to (unwillingly) spread the grandfather's 'gifts' and brainrot has now become a good part of his vocabulary.

brainrot = exclusive tzeenth x nurgle collab (confirmed)

15. Lion - will just stare at you dead in the eye. you will never speak brainrot again.

14. Rogal Dorn - will also stare at you dead in the eye AND call you out on the stupidity of brainrot. you'll never speak brainrot again AND probably have emotional damage from the verbal shaming.

13. Lorgar - none of these words are in his bible please stop.

12. Horus - congratulations horus has now embraced the brainrot. he uses it in the hello-fellow-kids way and it works. he's now very popular to all the sigmas of the cosmos

11. Magnus the Red - asked 'what is skibidi?' like the scholar he is. has also embraced the brain rot. can now do all his psyker bs in brainrot. is fully caught up on skibidi toilet lore. he's watched all 77 episodes.

10. Corvus Corax - has embraced the brainrot and no one even knows. you think your brainrot can freak him out? he's been mogging you the whole time. you've been outfreaked

9. Fulgrim - Thinks its stupid but as an artist he can appreciate the unique creativity of skibidi toilet. give him time he'll eventually embrace the brainrot unwillingly. will openly curse if he ever says the word skibidi

8. Jangatai Khan - passes it off as normal slang and goes on with his life. will eventually pick up on the concept of mewing.

7. Guilliman - speaks a FULL brainrot sentence back and goes back to whatever he was doing. this happens one on one so no one will ever believe that you've ever witnessed such a thing.

6. Leman Russ - embraces the brainrot. unironically mogs his sons and enemies

5. Sanguinius - smiles and nods. he doesn't really get it but he can join in on the brainrot.

4. Omegon - was the one who spread the brainrot

3. Alpharius - are we sure it was megon who spread the brainrot?

2. Ferrus Mannus - Thinks saying skibidi is very fun to say. Its become part of his vocabulary now, will say what the skibidi or what the sigma.

1. Vulkan - Oh you think he's a sigma? Why yes he is! And so are you! Will match your freak but wouldn't pick up the vocabulary. becomes THE mogger btw. infinite aura and the roundest gyatt in the galaxy

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 26

Fic masterlist

Did I just rearrange my outline to add a filler chapter inspired by this incredible art by @sassyhobbits? Yes, yes I did.

Warnings: disgustingly lovesick Lorcan

Words: 2,3k

Aelin had only realized she’d taken a nap when she woke up from it. Not that it was a big surprise, given how shitty she was feeling today, but she still woke up feeling a little lost.

At the exact same time, she noticed the lack of light leaking through the curtains and two deep voices coming from the living room.

Salvaterre was still here.

Elide left for a conference two days ago, and suddenly Lorcan was everywhere. The man said Charlie could use a playdate with Maisie because he missed his mom, but he couldn’t fool anyone with that lost puppy aura he exhaled whenever his wife wasn’t within a 10-meter radius.

Aelin groaned, blindly searching for her phone on Rowan’s side of the bed. He wasn’t there to cuddle her while she woke up from her nap, and it was on Lorcan—no, not because Aelin and Rowan were both busy adults responsible for an unruly child, it was truly all Lorcan’s fault.

She opened DAFriends and Dorian, the gang’s groupchat named by Fenrys after one of his many jokes about his partner being the only one that never served in the Doranellian Air Force.

Aelin: Elide

Aelin: Please come pick your child

Aedion: oh no

Aedion: whatever charlie did

Aedion: my bets are on maisie tricking him into it

Aelin: i meant lorcan.

Lorcan: Fuck you.

Elide: I wish I could [tired emoji]

Aelin put her phone down, wrapped the baby blue microfiber blanket around herself and left for the living room. However, an odd sight made her stop, peering from the hallway to further study the scene before her.

Maisie, Charlie, Lorcan and Rowan were gathered on the floor, around the short coffee table—the kids elegantly sat, and both men hunched around it; the table’s usual decoration was exchanged for a baby pink tablecloth, accompanied by milk, cookies, and plastic tableware. Both kids had light makeup and toy accessories on, from candy rings to princess pretend jewelry, but the dads were the real showstopper.

Watching oh-so-stoic Rowan dressed up for whatever Maisie made him play along, beaded necklaces and all, wasn’t a rare sight, even if it would be forever amusing.

But Lorcan?

Major Salvaterre, a commanding officer capable of making military men cry, had just been caught at a princess tea party, being warned by his son to not ruin the makeup as he ate, while wearing a plastic crown and a pink feather boa.

And the icing on the cake was that Aelin couldn’t even be mad that the kids took her incredibly expensive makeup without her permission, because they absentmindedly made their dads look like horror movie dolls.

“Charles,” Maisie called in a voice that was likely an attempt to sound serious and sophisticated, but that was not the main concern here. Who the fuck was Charles? Her friend’s name was just Charlie.

She continued, “Why did the T-Rex walk on the side of the road?”

The boy tilted his head with a grave expression. “Why?”

“Because of cars, of course.”

Charlie tilted his head back in a strong and slightly forced way; it might not be his intention, but he sounded like a cartoon villain laughing. Then, “Very funny, Maisianne.”

Rowan straightened his posture and added, “I found it highly amusing, Maisy Daisy.”

Lorcan nodded. “Very important for T-Rex safety.”

He looked at Rowan, who easily met his gaze. Whatever the men were thinking, their exchange was indecipherable, somewhere between amusement and embarrassment and resignation and whatnot.

Whatever they were feeling, Aelin knew they’d never bring this up again—thank Mala she saw it, then. And took a picture.

She stepped into the living room to make her presence known.

“Purple eyeshadow suits you, Salvaterre.”

“Glad I pulled it off, Lieutenant.” He looked at her up and down with complete indifference. “I’d say the same, but I think the kids put it in under your eyes instead.”

Bastard.

It was like something clicked inside Rowan’s head, and he immediately looked up to assess her. “You’re felling better, honey?”

“Kind of.” She sat on the couch with her legs crossed, still wrapped on her blanket. “I want pepperoni pizza.”

The kids cheered and the men silently consented, but even if they protested, it was three against two now. Pizza won, always.

Fleetfoot settled on the couch with her and the others resumed their tea party, but Lorcan wouldn’t stop checking his phone. It’d be silly to even wonder whose reply he was waiting for.

Aelin teased, “You’re the first man ever to get abandoned during a pregnancy. I wonder why.”

Lorcan averted his eyes from the phone, sending a thunderous look that never worked on her. “I’m trying to look after my pregnant partner, not that you’d understand.”

“You’re right. I’ll make sure to apologize when I knock Rowan up.”

Rowan’s reaction was nothing more than a short guttural sound, as he made sure that snicker died halfway on his throat and looked down with clamped lips, trying not to upset his friend further.

Aelin could assume Lorcan’s agony was kinda cute, but that hovering would leave her insane if she was in Elide’s shoes. Yes, the woman was pregnant, but Lorcan’s incredibly smart and healthy wife wasn’t in real danger during a medical conference, surrounded by other doctors.

Maisie cut in with, “Uncle Lorcan, Mom said you’re getting a boy.” Maisie looked between him and Charlie with a wrinkled nose. “Why are you always planting boys on Auntie Ellie?”

Aelin’s eyes went wide. “Maisie, he can’t choose that!”

“Yes, he can!” The little girl huffed. “Like how Daddy picks if he’s planting a kingsflower or a daisy—when he plants the seed in your belly again, I want him to plant another girl.”

“Honey, you can’t choose if—“

“I don’t wanna live with a boy!”

“Ouch,” Rowan said, clutching his pearls—beaded necklaces, in that case.

Aelin sighed. “That babies and gardening thing we told you was more like a metaphor, love.”

Maisie frowned. “A meteor?”

Their conversation was interrupted by the pizza delivery guy’s arrival, and Aelin couldn’t be more relieved. She’d take any chance to escape some of her daughter’s questions.

The pizza box was placed at the tea party table where the milk and cookies used to be, but the dads’ excitement to eat was interrupted by a horror-filled silence.

Lorcan tilted his head, trying to understand what was placed in front of him. “Is that…?”

“Pepperoni,” Aelin said, grinning like the devil. “With a Nutella stuffed crust.”

She rolled the rest of the pizza around its crust, making a bulky roll out of the slice, and put as much as she could into her mouth. The pepperoni’s spice clashed directly with the Nutella’s sweet hazelnut, the cheese balancing both with that mild texture. Along with it, she got one of Maisie’s grape juice boxes for herself.

Fucking perfect. Aelin leaned back on the couch, eyes briefly falling closed with bliss.

When she opened them back up, it was to meet Lorcan’s horrified gaze—which was slowly aimed at Rowan, who just shrugged and cut the chocolate off his slice.

He waved it at Aelin. “Want my crust, babe?”

“Me!” Maisie said, making a grabbing gesture.

Rowan obliged, then jutted his chin towards his girlfriend. “Next one’s yours.”

Good. A Nutella stuffed crust would go wasted with a chocolate hater like him.

But something must’ve gone wrong because, soon after Aelin ate her three slices plus two crusts given by Rowan, it seemed like that food wasn’t settling well in her stomach.

That little discomfort burned more by the minute, so Aelin pressed one of the couch’s pillows against her stomach, her teeth ground together. The food threatened to revolt and come back up, making her wince, which didn’t go unnoticed by Rowan.

Her boyfriend was by her side in a second, assessing every sign of distress. “What’s going on?”

She nodded. “Just a little indigestion, I—“

Maisie stood on her mother’s other side, wide green eyes cautiously assessing her. “Mommy, you okay?”

Aelin pushed the pain aside to give her daughter a nod and a grin. “Perfect. I can do it with a tummy ache.”

She excused herself to leave for the bathroom and sat on the floor, next to the toilet just in case. Her stomach felt like a boiling cauldron of corrosive acid that was about to eat her whole, and Aelin was taking deep breaths, stars bursting behind her eyelids as cold sweat broke out on her skin.

Aelin didn’t know how long it’d been when two knocks on the door caught her attention. To her surprise, it was Lorcan, holding out a yellow-ish glass of water.

She eyed it suspiciously, but took it. “This water isn’t crystal clear.” Aelin held it up against the light and squinted an eye at it. “This isn’t poisoned, right? You sure you’re not trying to finish the job?”

Lorcan rolled his eyes. “It’s ginger water. It helped Elide with the…” he trailed with a sudden inquisitive look, “nausea stuff.”

He walked out of the toilet as quickly as he entered, but Aelin could still hear him say, “I hope you didn’t knock her up, man, because there’s still time to bail.”

“Shut your mouth, you twerp!” Aelin shouted from the bathroom, the kid-appropriate insults easily rolling off her tongue.

That wasn’t her preferred choice of drink, but Aelin felt like she didn’t have much of a choice now. She gulped what she deemed enough, then a little more when Rowan walked inside to check on her.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked while sitting beside her on the floor.

She shrugged. “It’s manageable.”

He slowly nodded, his gaze fixed on a tiny crack on the bathroom tile. Aelin gave him space to process his thoughts, knowing it was a matter of time before he said, “About what Lorcan said before…” A frown. “You’re not, right?”

Knocked up, he meant.

“I’m not, baby,” she replied with a small smile, because it was such Rowan thing to fret over one single nausea episode.

He hummed and scooted close enough to wrap one arm around Aelin. “I know we’re working on our timing, but I wouldn’t mind it, you know? If you were…”

“Yeah, me too. It’d be good news.” Aelin nuzzled where his chest met his shoulder, both still sat on the bathroom floor.

“Incredible news.” He pecked her head, and Aelin knew there was still something brewing in that mind of his. A moment later, he continued, “How did you know it with Maisie? Not how did you find out, but like, what gave it away?”

“Nothing. I found out because of an exam. It was pretty random, actually—I didn’t even believe it at first.”

Rowan jerked upwards, his pine-green eyes wide as saucers and fully aimed at her. “Nothing? You had absolutely no clue you were pregnant until it was shoved at your face?”

“Yeah, I dunno.” She tilted her head, flooded with memories of that time of her life. “I was having military training fourteen hours a day, every day. That can be as physically straining as producing a tiny human. But I got my last period…” Aelin looked upwards, lips pursed as she tried to recall this piece of information with accuracy. “Recently.”

“That’s not very reassuring.” Her boyfriend was still, raptly watching her.

A chuckle. “Let’s say it’s statistically unlikely that I’m pregnant right now.”

“Very well, then,” Rowan said, that frown being replaced by a soft smile. They settled that way, hanging on to each other while he played with the ends of her hair.

To be honest, Aelin wasn’t worried about getting pregnant right now. When you finish a certain age of girlhood—the one when pregnancy is a frightening thing that puts your name in everyone’s lips and allegedly ruins your life—your worst nightmare might become something you really want, and you realize it’s harder to achieve than you previously thought.

Accidents still happened, Maisie being one of them, but for most of her friends, having a kid on your 30’s takes actively trying for months or even years, not just neglecting condoms by choice every now and then, after less than four months together with your partner.

“I thought that little hellion two doors down had made your hair gray enough already,” Aelin teased, thinking about what was ahead of them. What she knew they both wanted in a near-ish future.

“About the kids…”

“Uh-oh. What now?”

“They asked to have a sleepover here.”

Aelin’s shoulders sagged with relief. Maisie’s news could be anything between spilled water and arson. “Yeah, of course. We can handle Maisianne and Charles,” she said, mocking their tea party’s fake names. “Just send his dad home.”

“About that…”

Oh no. “Spill.”

“Lorcan didn’t like the idea—maybe he didn’t want to be home alone? I dunno. The kids started a tantrum, so I ended up offering him Fenrys’ old room for tonight, that way he let Charlie stay.”

“Oh, come on!” Aelin gave him an incredulous glare. “Ellie’s in a four-day trip, her grown husband is not an abandoned puppy.”

Rowan gave her a pleading look. “But he looks so miserable.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Only because I think his ginger thing is actually working.”

“You’re a doctor. You’re supposed to know if it works or not.”

A shrug. “I’m an orthopedist. It’ll only be my business when I start throwing up bones.”

“Yet, you use the I’m a doctor card whenever it suits you.”

“Whenever you’re being an overbearing fussy Buzzard, you mean.” Aelin snuggled closer, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend’s frame.

“Yep,” he said around a smile, “And I’ll be exactly that now that you’re sick and Lorcan’s babysitting.”

“If he doesn’t have a nightmare about his wife and ends up cuddling with you at night, you mean.”

“Now you’re just being mean.” Rowan chuckled, his eyes filled with something molten as he gazed at her.

You can get notified when I update by either turning notifications on for @mariaofdoranelle-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

TAG LIST

@aelinchocolatelover

@autumnbabylon

@bookcide

@booksandteaonarainydayislife

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@courtofjurdan

@dreamer-133

@elentiyawhitethorn

@elizarikaallen

@emily-gsh

@empress-ofbloodshed

@fangirlprincess09

@goddess-aelin

@gracie-rosee

@leiawritesstories

@lululululululuop

@nayaniasworld

@renxzs

@rowanaelinn

@s-uppertime

@sarahjswift

@staghorn-mountains

@superspiritfestival

@swankii-art-teacher

@thegreyj

@throneofus7

@violet-mermaid7

@wishfulimaginings

[epickiya722]

Can, I ask, why do you think Yuuji is one of the character that is so underated in JJK? He is the mc, but many people (in fandom) treat him like a side character? At first, I don't think so, but I love many shounen, and somehow Yuuji is one of the mc that is underated in their own story....

Sorry if I'm wrong, just I love Yuuji and want him to get the spotlight he deserve....

I wouldn't say you're wrong, Anon! In fact, I would say he is an underrated character. Yes, fairly popular, but when it comes to how the fandom treats him compared to characters like Gojo, Yuji is Underrated.

I feel exactly how you feel about Yuji. To me, he is the best JJK character. Oh, yeah, I'm being bias, whatever, but it's how I feel.

My guess as to why the fandom treats him like a side character because Yuji isn't like how most older gen MCs are written, let alone the others of the cast.

Let's be real, when the mid-late 2010s rolled around, how fandoms started to treat the new age MCs is opposite of their treatment of other MCs. It's because they're a different formula and honestly, I feel like folks who bash on Yuji and others like Tanjiro and Izuku, just don't want to try something different.

They're used to the MCs who speedruns their training and powerups and suffer little to no drawbacks, "trauma, what trauma" and want to be the best because they got an ego and pride they don't want hurt.

Today's MCs? Pain, not afraid to show a range of emotions, training? Oh, they get the hang of it but still a lot to learn and watch out! They have the scars to prove that they almost lost an arm!

Now focusing on Yuji, as I said he's not like other JJK characters.

He's not overpowered, but he's not weak either. He's a bit of a goof and he's says he's an idiot, but he actually isn't all dumb he makes himself out to be. He's not flashy, but he has amazing moments where he gets to show off.

He has a goal to get strong, not being he wants to be the top or anything. He just wants to help people.

He has a sad backstory, but it's only until later we realize how messed up it is and even still we don't have his reaction to realizing those messed up bits. Yuji was raised by his grandfather and he states he is a loner. But unlike how we see with most characters, Yuji is relatively fine with that. He brushes off knowing about his parents, unlike most MCs who would literally beg for answers. He's a loner, but he's not a loser. Note how people around him in his hometown treats him. They gave him a nickname to reflect his impressive physical prowess that amazes them and yet, he doesn't care for the popularity.

Yuji has this balance to him where he's both spontaneous but also pretty chill. A lot of the cast outshines Yuji because they are more showy than Yuji, even calm characters.

Unlike Gojo and even Yuta, Yuji is literally what you call the audience surrogate. Through him, we learn about the Jujutsu world while experiencing (growth).

From the start of their stories (referring to JJK 0 and Gojo's Past Arc), both Gojo and Yuta are established as powerful sorcerers from the start. Yuta may have had inexperienced but he was still recognized as a powerful kid. Both are born lucky with having such powers. The most Yuta and Gojo really develop and change is their personalities and attitudes towards certain ideas. That's it. They don't even have to do anything and immediately their auras show who they are.

In contrast to Yuji, how is he recognized?

As just Sukuna's vessel. Most of the time, he is literally called that. When he's recognized by his strength and abilities it's when he actively has to fight. Then it's like "oh, so he does have capabilities". Yuji actually has to show he can be just as capable as the others because when people first look at him it's "Sukuna's vessel" or back in Sendai it's "Tiger of West Middle".

It's not "Yuji".

Hell, he'll even be compared to Maki. It's not "Maki's like Yuji". No, it's "Yuji is like Maki". Megumi is the first character to do this. Maki is unique enough that if someone, in this case Yuji, displays a similarity to her, she is the template.

However, for Yuji, while he's unique it's almost like it's not enough to be acknowledged until he has to show them. Like, he has to prove something when he actually doesn't care to do that. Yuji doesn't care to get stronger than the next person, especially at this point. If anything, he seems to be the only one from the very start recognize that none of this is a test of strength when people are dying. Note how he acts during a fight. Every major to majorly minor character has displayed some sort of enjoyment out of a fight or fights to show they're not weak.

Not a single time has Yuji ever even smiled. Look back at all the fights and you will see that he hasn't done such a thing. He fights not because it's a game. He fights because he has to and only that.

And it's not like it gets better for him because he later identifies himself as "a cog". It's like Yuji never really had his own identity.

He's the odd one out.

It's how I think some of the fandom sees him. Without an identity, without recognizable traits. Hell, go on any post that praises Yuji and Yuji alone and there's gonna be a hater to bring up another character.

To some, I feel like Yuji only exists to them to hate on. Only a tool to bring in their praising of other characters to put him down as if that's all he's worthy of. It's a damn shame, too, that people actually feel the need to bring down a character to build their faves. Oh, feel like your fave can't stand on their own and show their greatness?

[ser3nityst4r]

Ninth Head

The wind blew fiercely as Riddle, the stoic Housewarden of Heartslabyul, stood triumphant, his eyes gleaming with a chilling victory. Ace and Deuce, their faces flushed with defeat, hung their heads, their initial bravado shattered. Yuu, their friend and confidante, watched in disbelief, a fire of righteous anger simmering within.

'Hmph. You didn't even last five seconds. That was all you had, and still you thought to challenge me?' Riddle sneered, his voice laced with disdain. 'You must be utterly humiliated. I guess my mother was right. A man who cannot follow rules is a man who cannot achieve anything.'

Deuce, his anger simmering, retorted, 'Tch... We agree that rules should be followed. But forcing others to follow nonsensical rules like the ones you've enacted is tyranny!'

Yuu, her voice shaking with indignation, chimed in, 'You can't just abuse your rights as a Housewarden to do whatever you please.'

Riddle scoffed, his arrogance unwavering, 'I am the one who decides what is wrong and right! What sort of pitiful education have you received, that you cannot follow such simple rules? Clearly, you were born to parents with no great magical capability. And as a result… You lack even the basic education necessary to attend a school such as this. It's quite sad.” He feigned pity, attempting to provoke the trio.

Deuce, his jaw clenched, his anger reaching its peak at the mention of his parents, snapped, “You little…” 

Before anyone could react, Ace, with lightning-fast reflexes, delivered a sharp jab to Riddle's face, silencing his mocking words. 'Eugh! T-That hurt!' Riddle sputtered, his composure shattered.

Ace, his voice steady and fierce, countered, 'Kids aren't trophies for their parents to flaunt. And the accomplishments of a child aren't determined by the worth of their parents. It's not your parents' fault you became a tyrant - or anyone else's. You've been here a year and haven't even made a friend who will tell you you're outta line. And that's on you. Maybe you had some rigid upbringing from a relentless helicopter-mom. Is that all you are? An extension of her? Can't you think for yourself? You call yourself the 'red sovereign'? You're just a baby who's good at magic.'

Riddle, his face now crimson with fury, screamed, 'Shut up, Shut up! You know nothing about me! My mother is right and that means I'm also right!' Grim snarled “What kinda logic is that?!” Ears flaring with blue flames as his claws came out at the aggravation of the situation.

Crowley, the Headmaster, appeared at the scene, his voice echoing with authority, 'The challenger has been disqualified due to physical violence. If you do not cease your conflict now, I'll have you written up for breaking school rules!'

But Riddle, lost in his own self-righteous fury, ignored Crowley's warning. And then, out of the blue, an egg sailed through the air, striking Riddle squarely on the head. 

'Huh? An egg?' Riddle mumbled, bewildered, until he saw the bright yellow yolk dripping down his face. 'Heh heh... Ah ha ha ha! You say YOU'RE fed up?! I'M the one who's fed up with all of YOU! No matter how strict I am, no matter how many heads I remove, you keep breaking the rules! All any of you care about is doing what YOU want to do! If the guilty party won't come forward, then I'll pass judgment on all of you! Clearly, none of you value your heads!'

Cater and Trey, sensing the escalating danger, rushed to intervene. “Cease this improper behavior now, Mr. Rosehearts,” Crowley commanded. “I expect better from you.” But his words fell on deaf ears.

With a malevolent grin, Riddle unleashed his power, his dark emotions surging through him. Rose bushes erupted from the ground, their thorns twisting and growing, reaching for Yuu, Ace, and Deuce. 'Mighty roses, tear this brute to pieces!' he roared, his voice infused with venomous rage.

The air crackled with wicked magic, engulfing the courtyard in a dark and dangerous aura. The crimson roses, fueled by Riddle’s anger, began to slither and dance, their thorns glowing with an ominous red light. The courtyard was plunged into darkness, and the chilling cries of the roses filled the air, carrying with them a promise of impending doom.

[zmediaoutlet]

They’re loud enough coming into the motel room that Sam would feel bad for the neighbors, if this weren’t a total dirtbag no-tell. $39 a night and worth every grimy penny. Dean’s still telling him about the plot of Metalstorm. At volume.

“Dude, and then Hurok—I told you about his backstory, right? With the Two-Eyed Queen?”

“Maybe,” Sam says, dropping to the nearer bed. “I think I lost the will to live somewhere around the killer shrapnel tornadoes.”

A raspberry. Dean stows the six-pack they bought on the way back from the bar in the mini-fridge and pulls out two bottles. “Telling you, no appreciation,” he says, but he’s not pissed. He’s grinning at Sam, weirdly cheery like he’s been all day.

“What’s with you,” Sam says, accepting his beer. Dean cracks it for him with the ring, plops down on the other bed. His boots stretched out around Sam’s legs. “You’re like—a kid cracked out on birthday candy.”

“Hey, this is a good day, man,” Dean says, expansive. He waves a hand, vaguely encompassing the dingy room and Hollywood and the whole world, possibly. “Got to go to a legit movie set, met two movie stars, and the case isn’t even really a case, which means no dead guy, which means no digging up a grave, which means: we got the night off, hombre.”

He says it with the h. “Pretty sure Gerard St. James doesn’t count as a movie star,” Sam says, but it’s hard not to smile back at Dean when he’s being—ebullient, practically.

Dean grins, knows he won. “You’re not ruining this for me,” he says, pointing at Sam. Then—it’s strange, how quick—his grin dips, turns. His lower lip bitten, lopsided. “I know you wanted a—a distraction, or whatever. We can find another job. Here or we could go south maybe. TJ?” His eyebrows pop. “Could get a show.”

“Spare me,” Sam says. Dean leans forward, looking all over Sam’s face, which heats. God, Dean. So annoying Sam could kill him, but also… “Thought you wanted to go to the Hard Rock Cafe, anyway.”

A second, two. Dean finishes examining his aura or something and then his grin gets dirtier, which is impressive because Sam thought he’d found a new depth before. “Hey, we can get hard as a rock right here,” he says, and Sam rolls his eyes, says, “That doesn’t actually—work,” and Dean surges forward not fast but inevitable as plate tectonics, pushes Sam down to his back on the bed, crawls up with his knees on either side of Sam’s hips, makes Sam hold his beer wide and to the side so it doesn’t spill, grins down into Sam’s face. Purely—glad.

“Does too,” Dean says, the dingy light riming him like a halo. Sam has no idea what he’s responding to but so what. Dean takes a swallow of his beer, throat bobbing, and then takes Sam’s out of his hand so they clink together, reaches down and sets them on the carpet. Leaves Sam free to grab his hips, his waist. Familiarity of what feels like his whole life taking over. This unseating at the back of the brain, like being drunk, except he only had two at the bar and it’s really just the wild spinning reality of—being Dean’s brother. What that means, when they’re together, and things are good.

But—“I don’t need a distraction,” Sam says, sliding his hand up Dean’s stomach. No hair, just the soft warm give of his skin. Options flickering in his gut, knowing how the night’s going to go, but he wants to be sure. That Dean knows, that it’s not—

But Dean knows. Sam can’t trust that Dean knows every swirling doubt in him, especially in these days of strange terror, but on this, with this, Dean might as well be in MENSA. “Good,” Dean says, warm. He gets his hand between them on Sam’s crotch, on where he’s swelling up the denim. Sam’s hips flinch, curving up. A crooked smile, and then his tongue touching the point of his tooth. All the blood in Sam’s brain drains abruptly to where it’s needed. Dean leans down, close, so Sam can smell his beer-breath and his skin. Salt. Sam’s mouth waters and Dean looks between his eyes. Making it easy. “Wouldn’t want you distracted.”

[rising-volteccers]

Honestly after talking with some friends, this is the impression I get from them so have this silly meme. Oh and the what-if scene for HZ023, if you care.

All jokes aside, I genuinely had fun writing this! This is how I personally would love to see happen. I hope it'll be an enjoyable read haha!

Series: Pokemon Horizons

Characters: Friede, Amethio

Mild warning for description of character injury. And HZ022-HZ023 spoilers.

--

The loud screech that emanated deep within the mines stole his attention and halted the battle between them. Friede did say Amethio wouldn’t catch him looking away but his eyes automatically flickered to the source. What he saw emerging from the tunnel made his blood run cold.

Liko and Roy. Cap, badly wounded in Liko’s arms. Something big and angry chasing after them. 

“Charizard, Flamethrower!” Friede ordered almost immediately.

His trusted partner swiftly fired off a stream of fire from its mouth, hitting the Pokemon that looked like Moltres dead center. 

“Friede!” He heard Liko yell as the mine cart rapidly brought the kids and Cap away–hopefully towards safety. 

“Keep going! Take care of Cap!” 

Liko’s desperate scream of his name made his heart ache with guilt but Friede couldn’t afford to spare them any more attention, not when the flaming Pokemon turned its fury filled sights upon him. 

To his brief surprise, he zeroed in on the Ancient Pokeball grasped between its talons. So, this was one of Lucius’s Pokemon too? Like Rayquaza and Arboliva?

The Moltres lookalike once again screeched in fury, and Friede swore he saw fire-like aura emitting from it. All of them had to dodge the bevy of Air Slash crescents fired off from its wings, where some veered towards the tunnel where Liko and Roy escaped earlier. It swiftly caused that mineshaft to collapse. 

Ah, so more like Rayquaza than the gentle Arboliva then. Got it.

“Guess I made it mad,” he uttered, smirking nervously. While Friede enjoyed battling against strong opponents, even he knew better than to contend with multiple enemies at once. At least between the two in front of him, one could be reasoned with. Hopefully.

“Hey! Temporary truce?” Friede spoke to the still frozen Amethio. That snapped the teen out of whatever trance he’d been in.

“What? Why–”

“Look out! Flamethrower!” Friede ordered, to which his Charizard readily fired off another stream of flames towards the wave of dark purple energy targeting Amethio and Ceruledge. Chillingly, the Flamethrower passed through it so nothing stopped the attack from hitting Trainer and Pokemon head on. 

“Amethio! Charizard, go up close and use Dragon Claw!”

With a mighty flap of his wings, Charizard surged upwards with gleaming orange claws, rearing them back before striking at the furious Pokemon.

In the meantime, Friede rushed towards Amethio and Ceruledge. Both of them were flat on the ground, looking like they were struggling to get up. He didn’t spot any immediate visible wounds but their actions indicated that something was wrong still. 

“What’s wrong? Where are you hurt?” 

“Ngh… it’s like all my energy’s been sapped,” Amethio replied through gritted teeth. He had pushed himself onto his elbows, looking past Friede to stare at the Moltres currently engaged in an aerial battle with Charizard. 

An attack that sapped away at one’s stamina? If Friede looked closely, both Amethio and Ceruledge breathed out what appeared to be black wisps. Through his extensive knowledge of Pokemon and their moves, he was genuinely at a lost. He’d never seen an attack–outside of Ghost-type moves–that didn’t directly harm the user but drained their energy before. 

Charizard’s roar drew Friede’s attention to his flier. He saw Charizard swooped out of the way from that odd attack again but within the enclosed area, his room to fly around was pretty limited. The moment that Moltres get a good solid hit in, it was over. 

Friede swiftly checked his surroundings. Aside from the mineshaft that the kids emerged from and the one that collapsed behind him, there was one more that he vaguely recall Amethio coming out from. While he wasn’t keen on entering deeper into the mines, their priority right now was to get away. 

A small part of him bemoaned the loss of fighting against such a strong opponent but he couldn’t be selfish here. Not when he needed to get Amethio towards safety. He might be someone who stood against him but he too was painfully mortal, just like Friede was. It didn’t matter that they were enemies once that Moltres got its fury filled talons on their squishy bodies. 

“Right, we’re gonna head there. Return your Ceruledge and see if you can hold on,” Friede instructed, already in the process of looping one of Amethio’s arms across his shoulders.

“What are you–let go of me!” Right, why would this guy make things easy for him?

“Now’s not the time! Unless you want to take your chances with that thing, we’re getting out of here!” Friede hissed back, losing all traces of his playfully serious mood. From the corner of his eye, he saw how Charizard collided with the stone wall from one of its Air Slashes. His partner wouldn’t last that much longer.

Thankfully, Amethio finally took the hint. After returning Ceruledge, he quieted down even if Friede sensed the disgruntled air coming from him once he pulled the skinny teen to his feet, one of his arms looped around the other’s waist. Amethio did not walk unsteadily but it still took effort for Friede to support him without them swerving from the straight path towards the open mineshaft. 

Just as they reached it, a loud screech halted them. Friede risked a look behind, feeling his heart drop to his stomach upon seeing his downed Charizard. Now the Moltres had its furious sights on them again.

It curled its wings in, gaining an ominous sheen to it before the Moltres released another wave of Air Slashes towards them. Friede didn’t think much when he shoved Amethio inside the mineshaft while he rolled to the side. His ankle screamed at him when he scrambled to his feet, nearly buckling underneath his weight. The slashes barely missed him, though the ones that did connect started to cause the entrance to crumble. 

If he was to get stuck in here and get ripped to shreds, Friede wanted to at least return his Charizard to spare it that gruesome fate. 

Just as he raised his Pokeball to return Charizard, a purplish figure dashed out of the slowly collapsing entrance. Friede heard a call for “Phantom Force!” over the Moltres’s screech and the sound of his partner now safe in its Pokeball. 

Friede spotted Ceruledge emerging from its portal to slash at Moltres from above, effectively drawing its attention that he could stumble his way to the mineshaft, pushing through the fire that surged from his ankle. He just about avoid a fallen support beam, then fell past Amethio who quickly returned his Ceruledge. 

Another loud screech, then the entrance really started collapsing in earnest. Friede instinctively curled into a ball, arms going up to protect his head as earth and stone fell around him. After what felt like forever, it finally stopped.

It was quiet, the only sounds were his labored breaths, and the occasional creak of the settling wreckage. Friede tried to breathe slowly, to calm the rising panic within his chest but all he got was a mouthful of dust. He coughed and wished he had something to wash out the film lining his teeth.

Once his lungs settled down, Friede remembered that he wasn’t alone.

“You alive?”

“Unfortunately,” Amethio grumbled his response, coming somewhere from his left with a pain laced voice. Friede pushed himself up onto his elbows and tried to squint at the other through his still adjusting vision. He couldn’t see any visible wounds aside from the gash that sluggishly bled from Amethio’s forehead. At the very least it looked like he could move normally again.

Pushing through the sharp spike that came from his left leg, Friede army crawled a few feet away from the pile of rubble that temporarily separated them from that dangerous Pokemon still screeching in anger. Once he neared a tarp covered box, he used it as leverage to pull himself up into a sitting position, gasping from both exertion and pain.

With his legs spread out in front of him, Friede knew his left ankle was at least twisted, at worst outright broken. He supposed no good deed goes unpunished. 

“Why did you do that?” As if sensing his thoughts, Amethio hissed out. In the dim lighting, Friede just about made out his angry, somewhat confused scowl. “We would’ve made it. You foolishly got yourself hurt because you tried to play the hero.”

“A thank you would’ve been nice,” Friede replied, sporting a wry grin. He released a slow breath afterwards. “But to answer your question, don’t know. Body just reacted.”

He truly didn’t have an answer for it. Friede saw danger and his first reaction was to keep Amethio out of harm’s way. He’d likely do that for anyone, really. That was just his nature; to fiercely guard and protect those around him, which apparently included Amethio at that moment.

For a bit, no words passed between them. His silence was based on breathing through the pain while Amethio’s appeared cold, maybe contemplative even. The screeching had stopped for the time being so that Moltres probably gave up. Hopefully. Friede wondered if its rage would prompt it to cause the entire mine to collapse.

“...where are you hurt?” Amethio’s question caught him by surprise. Friede fought to mask it, instead raising an eyebrow at the cool gaze settling upon him.

“Left ankle. Probably twisted it,” he replied. Friede instinctively tensed up at Amethio’s approach, hand twitching to the Pokeball that held his injured Charizard. To his continued surprise, the teen crouched in front of his stretched out legs. 

“Hey, watch it!” Friede yelped at the initial touch on his boot, the slight jostle causing a flare up of pain. Amethio briefly paused, then continued to ease his boot out in a gentler manner. He didn’t think the other had it in him to be mindful honestly. 

Friede gritted his teeth through the careful probing. Even he could tell it felt swollen and tender, nevermind the pain that sparked up from the affected area. 

“This needs a splint,” Amethio spoke up after several minutes of silence. He stood up from his crouched position, making a brief sweep of his surroundings. “Those broken beams over there should suffice for now. The only thing left is some kind of cloth to wrap them around your leg and keep them in place.”

Friede considered Amethio’s words. He didn’t expect this level of cooperation but he supposed desperate times called for desperate measures. He shouldn’t look a gift Rapidash in the mouth so he dipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a small pocket knife.

“Here. Should be able to use this to cut strips from the tarp covering this box. You’d have an easier time doing it than me right now,” he explained, handing the item to Amethio.

Amethio didn’t reach out to grab it, not at first. Friede found himself at the other end of a slightly incredulous gaze.

“What? My arm’s getting sore.”

“You’d hand me a blade that I can point at you?”

Well, considering their usual dynamics, Friede supposed he understood his confusion. He wasn’t too keen about it himself but he banked on what he knew of Amethio’s character from the various times they clashed. 

“I mean, I don’t think you’re the sort who’d stab a guy when he’s down. Too easy of a win for you, no?”

For a moment, Friede wondered if he messed up at the sudden shift in Amethio’s expression. He looked downright annoyed now, his right eye twitching ever so slightly. Did he incite the teen to actually stab him?

Before Friede could store away the knife, Amethio swiped it from his grasp. He sidestepped him to yank at the tarp, pulling it off the box. 

“Hold onto this corner and keep it taut,” Amethio all but ordered. Deciding to not push his luck, Friede did as he was told. Soon, they had various haphazard strips that should fit their purposes. 

Amethio dropped the knife by Friede’s side instead of nicely handing it back to him. A tad rude but hey, definitely better than fending himself off from angry stabs. Amethio soon returned to his side with a couple of broken support beams, roughly in the size they needed to make a temporary splint. 

Friede remained still while Amethio set about in placing the planks on both sides of his left leg. He sort of tuned out the entire process, mostly thinking about where Amethio got this knowledge from. Did he get injured often? As strong as Amethio was in battles, Friede was aware that he didn’t look that much older than Liko and Roy. 

Why was someone as young as him a part of the Explorers? He’d entertain that thought from time to time, admittedly. Whose orders did he follow that he’d chase them from Kanto? Friede was certain that he faced off a different Explorer back in Paldea. It just wasn’t Amethio’s style to resort to trickery and subterfuge. He could have easily went after Liko and Roy when they were separated from him instead of opting to battle.

“...there. How does that feel?” Amethio’s question drew him back to the present. Friede blinked, eyes glancing down at the makeshift splint. 

“Doesn’t feel too tight. Thanks,” he replied after carefully moving his leg. That should help keep his leg stabilized until he gets his ankle properly treated. 

Friede leaned back against the box, took a few deep breaths before looking up at Amethio's quiet gaze. He extended a hand towards the other. "Help me up? Don't know about you but I'd like to find a way out of here."

Amethio eyed his hand like it was something foul but he did grasp it. After a bit of awkward maneuvering, Friede got to his feet, putting minimal pressure on his bad ankle by leaning his weight against Amethio. Instead of shoving him off, the teen simply mimicked his earlier position by wrapping an arm around his waist while one of Friede's arms was draped across Amethio's shoulders.

"Guess our only choice is to go down there and hope it'll lead to an exit," Friede stated, vaguely gesturing to the path that wasn't blocked off by debris and rubble. 

"It'll lead to an open chamber with multiple paths. One of them is an exit," Amethio replied, already making the first move to get him walking.

"Huh." Friede would've asked where his confidence came from but then he recalled Amethio coming out from this tunnel earlier. He couldn't help but wonder for just how long the Explorers kept an eye on them. The very moment they landed in Galar? Friede wanted to keep a low profile by traveling on foot but that seemed to be a bust since Amethio found him all the way here. 

Initially, it took them a few tries to find a way where the height difference and Friede's awkward gait didn't impede their pace. Once they found a rhythm, thus began a slow yet steady walk down the mostly dim tunnel. His eyes had since adjusted, and after a few minutes, he spotted a pinprick of light in the distance.

"Oh good, looks like we're close. Usually people say 'don't go into the light!' but in our case, it's a blessing, yeah?" Friede chattered on, having done so for the past minute since he didn't like how the silence settled on his skin. 

"A head injury would be preferable if it gets you to shut up." Amethio didn't give him a response before but it seemed that he was really getting on his nerves now.

"Oof, a lil' harsh." There might be a hint of a pout to his voice but Friede got the message. He didn't know whether Amethio was above just dropping him like a sack of potatoes so he kept his mouth shut until their claustrophobic surroundings opened up to a larger chamber.

It looked similar to the one they were fighting in before with the same tunnels that led to who knows where. Amethio led them down to the leftmost one, presumably the mineshaft he came in from before. 

Friede couldn't tell how much time had passed. His entire body slowly became one giant ache as he hobbled along, hating the stiffness from the makeshift splint. The edges rubbed against his leg in a way that was noticeable even through the fabric of his trousers. He kept reminding himself that this was necessary even if he wanted nothing more than to get it off. 

Had he been a lesser person, seeing the light at the end of this tunnel would've reduced him to tears. At last, fresh air once they properly exited the mines. Friede wasn't the claustrophobic sort usually but seeing greenery and open space around him, not to mention breathing in dust free air nearly made him crash in relief.

Amethio led him to a nearby tree. Once Friede had a hand on the trunk, the teen swiftly released him like he couldn't stand being pressed close for even a second longer. He watched Amethio dust himself off, futile as it was. Both of them looked like they just crawled out of the ground.

"Don't forget to get that treated," Friede found himself speaking up, tipping his head at the now dried blood that caked Amethio's upper brow. 

He received a blank stare for that. "Duly noted. Take your own unwanted advice."

Well, he supposed that since they were free, all false niceties were off the table. Not that Amethio put much effort in keeping his disdain hidden. They had to work together under unexpected circumstances. Now that the threat no longer loomed over their heads, they returned to their previous dynamic of being enemies.

"I'd love to continue our previous battle but–take a rain check for it, yeah? Promise I'll give it everything I got next time."

There will be a next time. So long as Amethio chased after the pendant, they will inevitably clash. Such was the nature for them who stood on opposite ends. 

(Sometimes Friede did wonder how it'd be like if Amethio had been an ally instead. Perhaps they'd get along better, or maybe even be friends).

Amethio didn't respond. Instead, he turned around and released his Corviknight. 

"Huh, forgot you had that mon," Friede mused. Seeing their fiery opponent (both figuratively and literally), he supposed Amethio didn't want to pit his Steel-type against it earlier.

Friede watched as the teen swiftly got onto his Corviknight. Before his flier took off, Amethio briefly glanced back at him.

"Prepare yourself," was all he said prior to the Corviknight becoming airborne. Friede stared at the pair until they flew out of sight. 

With a deep sigh, he allowed his shoulders to slump. Exhaustion and pain weighed him down in different measures. He made a quick swipe at his face, took in a measuring breath before releasing his Charizard.

His partner was quick to growl its worry. The time spent in its Pokeball allowed the Fire-type a bit of recovery room but they wouldn't be winning any battles until Charizard got properly treated. 

"Hey, sorry for worrying you. I'm fine–well, I will be," Friede quickly amended at Charizard's pointed look to his makeshift splint. He gave his starter a few good scratches underneath his chin.

"Do you think you can give me a lift back to Motostoke? I think the kids would bring Cap there. Just take it nice and easy."

Charizard easily accepted his request. It turned around and lowered itself to the ground, much more than usual to compensate for Friede's current state. He winced from all the jostling but soon, he sat as comfortably as he could on Charizard's back.

Slowly, as if testing his wings, Charizard gave a few flaps. It became stronger, and then they were airborne. 

As Friede settled down during their slow flight back to Motostoke, his mind went back to the Moltres back in the mines. Seeing that it was likely connected to the Lucius, they very well couldn't leave it alone. Liko and Roy wouldn't want to leave a mystery like this unsolved, nor did he. 

Well Friede didn't plan on facing it unprepared. He might come back on crutches but he was determined to have the upper hand next time. He fished out his Rotom Phone, dialing a number until it connected. 

"Friede? What is it?"

"Hey Dot. So, long story short, I need your help in looking into something for me…"

[adams-world-domination-plans]

we have never properly interacted but i wanna know about ur chnt x vocaloid stuff please tell

yay!!!!!!!!! okay so idk how to organrize my thoughts just a fair warning and this is mainly a joke (the fact that this would mean hatsune miku is in the chnt universe is hilarious but anyways)

Campers: Kaai Yuki, Rin and Len, Moke, Oliver, maybe fukase...?

yk what there's CITs (counselors in training) too bc i need to cram more in and the idea of miku being a cit is fucking hilarious

CITs: Miku, Flower, Piko

anyways to the funny stuff... this isnt even a proper au its just a series of funny interactions i think would happen

First one! Okay so Oliver hears of the elephant man and is like "hmmm,, this guy is kinda weird but I've seen more horrific!" Then he encounters the elephant man and is like OH SHIT ITS COUSIN ELIJAH- (elijah is the one guy banned from family gatherings😭😭 so of course he's scared shitless)

Second one: Adam is like the most upbeat father ever and whenever Adam starts regularly visiting camp (i hc that he lives somewhere under the camp) he makes fuka go to camp there and is like "It's gonna be fun!!! :D" and fuka is just like "I hate uou"

Third one! Oliver drank the lake water. thats all im saying

Fourth one: Yvonne and Flower are totally friends. source: ME! BECAUSE IM THE ONE MAKING THIS AU

fifth: Rin tried to kill a counselor at one point. She has a lot of attempted murder under her belt-

sixth: moke got lost in the woods and almost got eaten by... something..? We don't know what exactly it is, but it sure was hungry! Luckily fuckass found him and his weirdass freaky aura scared it

seventh: kaai yuki is the only one that leaves without some sort of severe injury TRUST

eighth: Len likes to hide in Sydney's office. The boy is afraid :(

Ninth: Piko hates taking care of the campers. So much. But his parents made him otherwise he would spend the whole summer playing genshin or whatever he does

Tenth: Flower is actually really good with the kiddos even though they seem mean

Eleventh: Miku probably started some underground gambling ring not even gonna lie😭😭 she has them kids WORKING

thanks for reading mwah mwah if i come up with more i'll post or if i draw anything of this

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE DAICHI SAWAMURA HEADCANONS

Like Suga, he's a really protective yandere and he will do WHATEVER the HELL it takes to keep you safe 

He is a yandere who is aware of his abnormal yandere tendencies about himself for you and he knows that being really obsessed with you is really creepy ASF but he really can't help himself. It's not HIS fault you looked so cute in that jacket you were wearing today BUT that skirt of yours.... he gets really overprotective of you when you wear kinda revealing clothes EVEN if it's a cold shoulder top

Daichi is an intelligent guy and there's no WAY you'll be able to escape from his fervent stalking like, at ALL

He is a really terrifying yandere to be precise. He will not hesitate to murder someone if they do something wrong to you. Remember that crazy Karen who slapped you on the face a few days back while you were going grocery shopping? Well, looks like she went missing and her family had several 'accidents'

Daichi is a man who will make sure you feel safe and protected at all times when you're around him and before you ask me WHY, it's because of the protective aura that he gives off 

Daichi knows how to interact with you in public and he's the type of guy who always insists on holding your hand no matter where you go 

He gets paranoid as HELL every single freaking god damn minute of the day since he's really worried about your health and safety. Are you sleeping properly? Are you eating regularly? Are you taking good care of your health? And he's also the type of person who will freak the freak out if you're hanging out with someone else OTHER than him and though he knows what he's doing is wrong by following you wherever you go and stalking you here and there, he just doesn't care. It's all to keep you safe of course 

His mind will be revolving ONLY around you 24 FREAKING 7!!!

Daichi finds the things you do subconsciously really cute like when you bite your lip if you're thinking about something (Don't do that too often since if it starts bleeding, he's gonna but you the entire line of lip balms in a cosmetics store), when you pout when something happens and when you shift or pick your nails etc etc. He admires and respects your daring and outstanding personality and he'll go over the memory of how you handled yourself in a bad situation over and over again in his head 

Now, when it comes to rivals, he's not going to think twice to use his position and pin the blame for something HE did on someone else and it works 99 percent of the times and he does this since he doesn't want anyone else taking advantage of your wonderful personality. He just wants you t be dependent on him and not anyone else. And so, when people start avoiding you like the Corona, you'll of course be really sad and miserable but don't worry, your Prince Charming Daichi has arrived with tissues, a tub of your favorite snacks and made you some of his delicious home made cookies :)

He will kidnap you within less than a month if I say so myself and when he does, he'll know how confused and lost you're feeling and so, he'll be ready to hold and hug you when you scream and cry and sob. He's prepared for all your little tantrums and will make sure that you love him one day 

If you're trying to escape, he'll behave like he's punishing a little kid. Taking away their favorite items, gently scolding them and putting them in time out and unfortunately for you, that's the same way he's going to inflict punishments on you 

He will hug you after that and tell you how sorry he is and it was your fault since you weren't willing to cooperate with him 

He is awfully affectionate and really doting on you and so, the best thing you can do is just accept him for everyone's sake and if you don't, he's willing to pull you into a bone crushing hug. When it comes to keeping you safe from the outside world, believe it or not, he'll actually let you go out but you have to hold his hand no matter what or else, you'll be confined to the house for the rest of your life

[alphabetatoes]

children’s librarian!gojo who’s appearance might at first seem to juxtapose his job title.

during story time, he will actively sit in the kids chairs/on the ground with the kids when reading books (does NOT care if he looks like the jolly green giant sitting next to a toddler, normal chairs are too formal for his taste)

forget step stools! as soon as gojo feels the gentle tug of his pant leg by a kid, he knows it’s time to spring into action. there’s never a dinosaur or space book out of reach when he’s at the library.

one time a kid asked if they could draw him, and he nearly burst into tears on the spot. doesn’t matter if he looked like an abstract rendering of a potato with hair in the drawing, gojo got it framed and proudly displays it on his desk.

if a child asks him to play, gojo treats it like he just accepted the role of a 👏 lifetime 👏. the kids love it, and the parents get a kick out of the sheer ridiculousness of a 6’3 adult man playing the child of a 7 year old.

keeps a candy bowl at the desk allegedly for when kids want a sugar fix (it’s really just so he can have something sweet on him at all times)

adult librarian!nanami who is the epitome of don’t judge a book by its cover

from afar, one might think he’d be a no nonsense person, rigid when it comes to helping out, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth

has a cadence that makes everyone feel welcome- like family, even if it’s their first time at the library

stresses the importance of “no stupid questions” when it comes to patrons asking for help, as no one should ever be chastised for trying to learn something.

VERY popular with the elderly demographic! not only is he the most patient and caring when it comes to topics like technological literacy, but quite a few also think he’s a cutie pie.

some of the members of the knitting club even made him a sweater to show their appreciation for all his hard work (and maybe tried to set him up with their single family members)

keeps an art wall in his office of all the drawings he receives from children when they’re with their parents (the majority of which are stick figure drawings that say “‘me + mr. nanami <3”)

young adult librarian!geto who has curated the place to be for resident young people at the library

because of this, young adults know it’s a safe space to come to when they just need to get out of their own heads (more than willing to listen when patrons just need to get something off their chest)

has a monthly challenge going against the teens (once it was to see who could bring in the most cans for a food drive), and if they win, geto has to do whatever the highest voted ‘punishment’ is (within reason ofc)

gives off a mysterious aura, so any time he shares something personal about his life, the teens add it to their “geto lore” doc.

once wore a green t shirt instead of his traditional black (they were all in the wash and the green one was clean) and the teens nearly lost their minds. (the day was filled with numerous “are you okay?”s)

easily has the most popular program turnouts, be it movies/book clubs/ttrpgs (the fact that he’s extremely attractive also doesn’t hurt this fact)

headcanons initially inspired by this tweet! these were really fun to write <3