#i could be responsible for three people being dead and im too much of a fucking coward to go check

[hishighnesstheprincess]

vent in tags

[tragedyslut]

♡ dad, would you wash my back this once? ♡

✶ [ j.miller ] ✶

♡ FATHER!JOELMILLER X FEM!TEEN!READER ♡

🩷 SUMMARY — he abandoned you for ellie, you thought youd never forgive him. alt timeline<3 intentional lowercase, no proofreading 🪽

your father joel miller was a vain man. after the loss of Sarah, he wasn't the same. which, was an obvious thing. having the last name miller gave you a 'higherachy'. people respected you. but the name didn't mean anything to you.

not anymore.

after ellie came around, joel was never there for you. even less than he used to be. the memories of before the apocalypse swarmed your brain. in some ways, you were jealous of ellie. she got the father figure you never did.

in other ways, you were worried for her. you were only 2 years older than her, 16.

joel had his third chance. you hoped that he wouldn't fuck things up like he did with you.

you still lived in jackson, in you and joels house. you would sleep in his old bed whenever you missed him.

you two had left the quarantine zone with and met Ellie. then, you three resided in jackson for a while. Joel promised that he would deliver ellie to the fireflies and be done with it.

but he broke that promise. he left with her in the middle of the night, only telling Tommy that he was taking ellie to a lab in Colorado.

well, to make a long story short, ellie died in that lab. you knew joel would never forgive himself, and apart of you wanted that. he wanted him to feel as much pain as you did when he abandoned you for some girl he barely knew. you did feel bad that ellie was dead, obviously. it isn't her fault that your dads a prick.

after ellies death, joel returned to jackson. you had no idea he was coming, and when he came you just happened to be on guard duty. you were a sniper, thats what you were good at. and you hated being on the front lines with a pistol, it pissed you off.

though today you wished you had just taken the front lines. approaching the gates, was your father. he looked.. broken. upset, to say the least.

you sighed, putting your rifle to the side and hopping off the gated wall to to unlock the gate for him.

he saw you and immediately looked like he was going to cry. it had been months since you last saw each other. though, your stoic expression didn't falter as you simply locked the gate behind him.

" .. y/n. look. im sorry. " joel immediately tried to blurt out. you shot him daggers.

" you broke your promise. i don't care how sorry you are. " you said, trying not to burst into tears.

joel sighed, knowing he couldn't change what happened. he had found that out too many times. with sarah, then ellie, now you.

he went forward and hugged you, not caring if you tried to push him away. but to his surprise, and your own, you didn't.

" kid.. i know. i fucked up but- i want to make it up to you. i want to be here. " he mumbled, you just shook your head.

" you can be here. but i ain't your kid anymore. "

that night, you two were in joels old house for the first time in ages. it felt so right, but so wrong. you stayed in your room the rest of the day, sobbing. you didn't care that joel could hear you, the walls were that paper thin that he could always hear you moving even the slightest bit.

he stood just outside the door for ages, wanting to come in and comfort you.. but he couldn't. he knew that. you needed to come round yourself.

he spent that night cooking your favourite dinner. once he was done, he came and knocked on your door.

" .. y/n. uhm. i cooked dinner. you should come down and get some. "

he said loudly, but he didn't hear anything in response. he hesitantly stepped into the room, and saw you curled up in a ball. you had cried yourself to sleep. he couldn't stop himself, he immediately went over and took you into his arms. he held you so tight. he never thought he'd be able to do that again.

he held you for hours, the idea of dinner being long forgotten. when you woke up and felt him holding you, it only made you start crying again. but not out of pain or sadness, but relief.

" its okay baby girl.. ive got you. i promise. " he said, just glad to have you in his arms again.

that night, you couldn't sleep. you missed him. you had this horrible feeling that he would leave again in the middle of the night. so you got up, creeping into his room. you stood in his door way, until he teared his eyes open, staring at you.

" kiddo? you okay? " he mumbled, sitting up.

" dad- can i.. stay in here tonight.. just this once? " you whispered out.

he nodded, letting you climb into bed with him. he held you all night, just enjoying being back with his daughter. you both knew that this wouldn't be 'just this once', but in a way that was a good thing. you both wouldn't ever be apart again. he wasn't leaving.

[starlightingsss]

right where you left me

a laxus x reader drabble ig?? js me yapping 😞

HES SAUR FINE THOOUUUUUU

as they - she, kagura, milliana, risley and arana - exited the endless corridors of the labyrinth that was the preliminary for the grand magic games, they were met with a roaring audience. they finished sixth, out of 8, which wasn't too bad considering their competition.

the other 2 guilds already announced were fairy tail and quatro ceberus.

fairy tail hadn't participated in these games in a while, after their humiliating defeats. but this year - they might actually have a chance at victory. she knew too much about the guild, especially with her history, and she knew the tenrou team had returned and would be participating in the games. she didn't know many of the people on the team closely, but she heard of their names and saw some pictures from him.

he disappeared with the rest of them 7 years ago. not a word, and not a trace. she still remembered the day of his departure, how he took off from the tent and how she chased him in his lightning form, how she couldn't get there in time to help them fight but still watched as acnologia blew them to shreds. what she thought was the last seconds of his life.

but there they were, the friends he told her about, competing in a fight to be the best guild. she knew she should've been happy when she first saw their guild making a comeback, but she couldn't help the feeling of fear that swept across her heart. his friends were there, but where was he?

its been 3 months since their return, and she hasn't heard a word from him. she saw the members of his team cheering in the crowd with the rest of their guild, but the man she loved was nowhere to be found.

"what's on your mind?" kagura said, leaning over to the woman. they weren't close but kagura had seemed to take some kind of interest to her, occasionally checking up on her, asking her questions about her past.

"it's.. nothing." i replied, short vague responses was usually all kagura got out of me. but, if im being honest, what else could i give? i shouldn't be in these games right now, i'm in no condition to fight. maybe a few years ago, when i was strong, but now? my body is brittle and malnourished, my eyes are dead and i haven't smiled in years. my alcoholism has aged me an unreasonable amount, and i am just a shell of my former self. my magic power has depleted beyond what seems fixable, and i feel like im slipping away faster as each agonizing day passes. hauntingly beautiful, a ghost even.

it seems i have zoned out through three of the introductions as they are now announcing the second place.

as the crowd roared in excitement, the second place team came out - fairy tail team b. it felt as if the whole world was spinning, as if nothing existed in that moment except for me - and him.

he stood there, next to the pretty white haired girl - mirajane - unscathed and just how he looked 7 years ago. perfect. i felt as a smile bloomed onto my face, tears prickling my eyes. i couldn't hear the deafening roars of the crowd as sabertooth was announced, as my heartbeat seemed to drown them all out. i wanted to run, to run across the stadium into his arms, i wanted to cry about how i missed him, ask where he'd been, i wanted to throw myself into his arms and never leave. but i couldn't, i seemed glued to the spot i was standing, with my eyes glued to him, maybe he didn't recognize me. maybe he chose not to look, but still, he was alive.

a spark seemed to have been relit in me, that fiery spirit and my will to live. my gaze never seemed to leave him, as his eyes finally met mine. i saw how they widened a little in shock as he realized it was me, how his lips curled into a rare smile - not a smirk, but a smile. a geniune smile.

how it ended as quickly as it started, as the teams were dismissed and let to leave, how his guild pulled him away as i couldn't help but smile like a lovestruck fool.

and thats exactly what i was. lovestruck. i loved him and i would forever, the anguish and worry from the past 7 years seeming to lift off my heart. my beloved would be mine again soon, my perfect.

that night, i drank. shamelessly and without a fear, i hadn't touched a drop of alcohol for months, because what if i lost myself to it again? what if i started and couldn't stop? but it was different this time. i drank, not to forget but to celebrate, i drank because i loved him and i refuse to love in fear. i drank because i had a reason to live again, and i drank in celebration, instead of out of habit or to avoid my pain. i was an alcoholic but in those moment, i wasn't. in those moments, i was a 19 year old girl again. a 19 year old girl traveling fiore with the man of my dreams, a girl without a reason to cry. someone so endlessly happy and content.

a euphoric smile lit my features as i stumbled out of our bar, determined to find the one fairy tail was occupying - and after a few block, i settled at the rowdiest bar amongst the 20 i had seen, one with men flying around in barrels.

i entered the building, unnoticed, as i scanned the group for his face.

and there he was, in all his glory - sitting at a table surrounded by his friends.

i stumbled over, tripping over my feet a little, before finally getting to him, slumping myself over him, and wrapping my arm around his neck.

he was clearly less drunk than i was, as he tugged me into his lap, before wrapping me in a tight embrace.

"almost thought you were mad at me for a sec.." he whispered into her ear, as tears filled her eyes. she missed him so so much.

"could never be mad at you.." she replied, as her tears fell and her smile grew.

she heard him murmur an "i'm sorry" as his team seemed to stare in shock a little, his grip on her didnt loosen as he held her to his torso, maybe pulling her away a few times to look at her face and plant a kiss on her cheek.

[yuhi-san]

I sat my ass down and put some meta thoughts into word that have been swirling in my head for ages for @tristampparty day 9 Brad and luida

Because i wont be finishing the planned story on time, soo

Brad, Luida and ship three went in completely blind when it came to how to handle vash being an independent pant. They had nothing to go off on and as far as they knew, independents were a theoretical possibility but vash was the first one they encountered (not even luida had the clearance to see anything that could contain mentions of tesla). Vash isn’t really human but he isn’t like a dependent plant either.

I made a post about how that regarding how vash initially seemed to go through a human lifecycle a lot faster, until they realized he just stopped aging at a certain point.

The other thing I wonder is, do brad, luida and at least some of the others know about tesla?

The answer is, im sure it will never come up in canon. And I guess people are inclined to say, no way would vash ever open up to anyone about it.

But I think brad and luida know. Not much. Maybe just that there was an independent before them and she had died from the experiments done on her. Just these two things is all vash ever said.

Because see, in stampede vash came to ship three when he was still very small. It became his home, he actually bonded with all these people, they are like family. And he was still very young when the traumatic loss of his arm happened.

It changes the dynamic between him and these people a lot compared to trimax and 98.

Vash doesn’t have a regular prosthesis but a cybernetic one (or three if you like me follow the hc that his legs are prosthesis as well). also there is metal and hardware (?) on his chest and stuff. But even

My point is, those aren’t things he got from patching himself up or went through shabby surgery in a back alley or something of no man’s land.

 Initial surgery when luida brought him back aside, that must have been ‘experimented’ with vash to some degree because they knew nothing. Can he get sick? How does he response to medicine, to painkillers? To anesthetics? Vash bleeds but does he have bloodtypes like a human? What are they supposed to do when he lost his arm? Give him a bloodtransfusion like they would with a human and hope his body wont reject it? Throw him in a plant tank and hope that the plants can do for him what he does for them?

And even if they were kind and patient and understanding and reassuring about it, there must have been so many moments where it was literally just trial and error because they simply had nothing to go on. It must have been so scary for vash.

But especially with his arm (and possibly his legs). It’s an cybernetic arm. There are cables and shit directly connected to his body. It’s not a regular stump he has, it’s a port, its hardware embedded in his flesh.

And surgeries are scary, especially for kids. Its normal to be afraid of them. But vash must have been beyond terrified by the mention of it. Far, far more so than could be reasonably explained as a normal reaction. So I think vash told them because he was too terrified, too afraid, didn’t know what else to do or say. A hysteric outburst more likely than calm communication.

(“There was an independent before us. They experimented on her. She’s dead.”)

It was terribly for everyone involved.

But, like even if vash didn’t tell them.

At some point, he made the conscious and active decision to trust this people so unconditionally. Despite his rocky start with them and what had transpired with the blackbox, they could reassure vash that he was save and no one would do him any harm.

Vsh trusted them enough to let them put him under, take a scalpel to him, change his body irrecoverably but he would come out of it alright, wouldn’t endure any unnecessary pain by their hand.

Like, if you think about it like that, after the horror of what happened to tesla that shaped him and nai so much, vash found it in himself to trust these people with what then and possibly still might be his biggest trauma. And like rem had promised, he didn’t end like his sister

[latibvles]

something to write about.

we are back with another one of these!! yay!! this week's prompt is recuperation — and so we're tackling willie and some post-bremen dilemmas, featuring John Brady no this isn't just an excuse for me to write them who said that? anyways im fond of them and this and I hope you are too :) me? posting at a reasonable time? unheard of.

It was almost offputting, how a phrase could change meaning in a little over 72 hours. Nothing to write home about becomes nothing you can write home about. Willie always struggled with writing letters, and Viv often teased her about how she’s the only person in the Hundredth who could struggle with making piloting sound exciting. Of course, Willie didn’t want it to sound exciting, even if she could manage that. She didn’t need Otto getting any wise ideas to end up on the fast track for enlistment. But now, there was nothing she could write home about.

Thirty people, gone, just like that. It was hard to be optimistic when there were no chutes to give some scrap of hope — and Willie hated watching June wipe Carrie’s blood from her hands almost as much as she hated watching Carrie get carried away on a stretcher, her collarbone a bloody mess haphazardly subdued with the sulfa powder and rag June held to it until she had to drop their bombs in the channel. They only knew how upset she was about the whole thing after she kicked her footlocker like it’d personally wronged her after interrogation.

If this is what it feels like being the last man standing, Willie hates it most of all.

That was three days ago, and now most of Mouse Hole’s flak holes were all patched up, and Willie’s certain that if she hopped into it right now, there would be no blood on that bombsight, no remnant of the fact that Bremen, in plain terms, had been a failure.

But that was nothing she could write home about, now was it?

She couldn’t tell home about the dead or about the hole torn through a nineteen-year-old girl. She couldn’t tell them about the flak or watching three planes go down or the engine fire. She couldn’t tell them that ten women she’d considered friends were gone, just like that — no funeral, no fanfare. She just had to live with it, like they all did, even if she still couldn’t make sense of what she’d seen and much less make sense of the fact that she’d have to witness it again.

“Willie?”

The sound of her own name catches her offguard — she wants to kick herself for the reflexive jolt her body makes at being caught offguard. But she turns her head and there’s John Brady, looking apologetic for startling her.

And that fact really makes her want to kick herself.

“Hey,” she breathes out, then inwardly cringes at her own lackluster response. Real smooth, Willie.

“Hi,” That makes it better. He walks closer still, nods, and Willie looks over the details of his face quickly. Furrowed brows and a bit of a tight lip — he’d given them that same look when they came out of interrogation. 418th. The first group grounded, huh. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” She counters, brows raising. This, however, makes him nod, the frown cracking a little bit. Good enough.

“I asked you first.” Willie clicks her tongue in mock surrender, then gestures to Mouse Hole — the Mickey Mouse decal grinning down at the two of them like a flak-happy lunatic — then gives him a half-shrug.

“Came to check on my house,” she explains, a statement that chips away at the rest of that tight-lipped frown and makes him smile a little bit. Much better. “Thought I’d catch Swanson out here or something. Wanted to ask a couple questions but now I guess I’m just having a staring contest with Mickey Mouse.” His brows shoot up towards his hairline and he chuckles.

“Oh yeah? Who’s winning?”

“Me, obviously. I don’t lose,” He makes a noise that she’s pretty sure, or rather, hopes, is a laugh — based on how the corners of his eyes crinkle a little, how he ducks his head down for a moment to rub the nape of his neck with a quiet muttering of ‘of course.’ Then he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, tilts his head up to also, presumably, try his luck against the flak-happy mouse. He’s pretty bad at it though, because he glances at her again out of the corner of his eye.

“Where’s Viv?” Viv and Willie. Willie and Viv. Wherever one goes the other trails. Willie reaches up to rub at her earlobe a bit.

“Fifteen minutes behind me, probably. Or keeping the rest of them out of trouble,” Because that’s how it’s probably gonna be — she’s gonna make sure no girl walks home alone in the dark and I’m gonna sit and grumble until we make piss-poor jokes about it, just like we did over smaller things in Utah, Iowa, and Nebraska, too. “She’ll end up at the club one way or another.”

Brady nods, giving little more than an understanding ‘Ah’ and there’s a moment there where they lapse into something of a familiar quiet.

This, funnily enough, is the most normal she’s felt in days. She couldn’t really shake that restlessness that settled in after interrogation — a loud, harping feeling that she should be doing something. Which is at least half the reason that she came out here to begin with — to do something, maybe find something worth writing about on the hard-stands. I could tell them about Sandy Swanson and her crew of mechanics, or…

She looks Brady up and down for a moment. There was something assuring in knowing he didn’t seem off-put by her silence, that he was fine with sitting in it instead of prying words out of her that she couldn’t give. But words always came easier to her when she was comfortable anyway. And when it came to comfortable…

“You played well, last night,” Willie shoves her hands into her pockets. You always do. He raises a brow, his smile turning lopsided and boyish in a way Willie thinks she likes more than she reasonably so.

“You think so?”

“Well I’m no expert on the subject, but yeah,” Willie nods, affirming her own statement. “I do.”

There’s a look shared between them, and Willie feels that shyness starts to overtake her as it so often does when it comes to him. There’s the urge there, to say more: to show how much attention she pays to him when he picks up his instrument. There’s also the acute awareness that anything she says she’ll have to live with after saying it, and so she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something too bold.

It doesn’t change the fact that he’d quickly earned a soft spot with her, whether he meant to or not. Maybe that was something she could write about.

…Not the soft spot— the band. The music. She hadn’t really talked about that part much, beyond that there is a band, and there is music; jazz most nights, meant to provide them with some means of relaxation day in and out. There are words the more she thinks on it, waiting to be phrased in the right way to statiate the needs of both her worrying mother and her too-curious little brother. If there’s a few sentences in there about an unnamed saxophonist being, in her eyes, maybe a little bit better than the rest — then it’s a good thing she censors her own mail.

She reaches up to pat the body of her fort twice, takes a couple steps back and gives him a once over.

“I’m gonna head over now, I think. So I don’t make the missus wait on me,” there’s a snort there that’s so uncharacteristically Brady, and yet somehow he makes it work.

“Right, okay. I’ll walk you.”

“Think I can’t handle myself, Brady?” He clicks his tongue, turning as she walks past to keep step with her. He mutters something under his breath that she doesn’t quite catch, then continues to look at her as they walk.

“You caught me. I’m trying to keep you from dancing on tables.”

“Damn, there goes my weekend plans.”

Laughing is a shared sound, his deep chuckle overlapping with her breathy one, and she likes the combination. They lapse into that quiet again, the comfortable kind that feels normal when everything else doesn’t. Willie says nothing of the fact that their shoulders bump every now and again — if this is as much of a reprieve as she’s getting, then she’s more than happy. She’s never been a greedy type, but she could start to be if it meant there would be more of this. She steals a momentary glance at him, before committing wholly to it with a clearing of her throat as they get closer to the long rows of huts that line the path to the Officer’s Club.

“You never answered my question,” Willie points out, and Brady responds with little more than another ‘hm?’ “I asked what you were doing out there, you never answered.”

Brady’s brows raise to his hairline and he nods slowly before looking away from her, tongue poking out to run over his lips for what feels like a full minute before he looks back at her with that boyish smile of his again. There’s that brief, fleeting thought that recuperation looks less like the shine of brassy instruments and more like the warm, welcoming glint in those gray-blue eyes of his. If nothing else, he’s serving as a pretty great reminder that she is not, in fact, the last man standing.

“Heard there was a mouse running around by the hard stands, wanted to make sure she wasn’t scurrying into any of the forts and trying to take off,” The smile on his face gets a little wider with every word. Willie can’t help it — she laughs a little louder than before, shaking her head, half-disbelieving and yet surprised all the same that she couldn’t come to that conclusion on her own.

“Seriously? Did Viv put you up to that?” She asks, not upset at all, but Viv had a tendency to worry so Willie wouldn’t be especially surprised if she had.

It’s the barely there shake of his head, ‘no’ that almost knocks the wind from her lungs, and even if she doesn’t write this part down: Willie knows her mind will return to this fact often. And she won’t be able to hide her smile when it does.

[aggsh-shs]

you asked for fic requests do those go here?

anyway, can i request campbell bain x g/n or male reader where reader has a panic attack and campbell helps.

OR one where reader is just sitting around while campbell does a show. chill stuff y’know

those might be awful ideas feel free to ignore this if you want

sorry i’ve never done this before hope these are ok requests

HI THIS IS PERFECT!!

I WROTE THIS FIC TODAY WHILE I WAS IN THE CAR/AT AN AMUSEMENT PARK SO IM SORRY IF IT SUCKS

CAMPBELL BAIN X MALE READER (PANIC ATTACK COMFORT)

cw: panic attacks (obvi)

reader gender: male (he/him)

Room 306 in St. Jude’s mental hospital was assigned to two boys, you, and your boyfriend. He was bipolar while you had generalized anxiety disorder. This led to regular panic attacks when unmedicated

Aforementioned boyfriend, Campbell Bain sat next to you, his arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders.

He was chatting away, some story about Eddie that you couldn’t hear through the pure adrenaline coursing through your body.

Every breath seemed to come and leave without making it any easier to focus. You’d had a rough day, too many loud sounds and people. They’d lowered your meds recently, which meant it took less to make you anxious.

This was definitely a panic attack.

Campbell’s voice faded out, without you noticing, and his hand transitioned from just holding you to rubbing your back.

“Hey,” His voice was gentle, and you turned from staring dead ahead to do your best to focus on him, “you ok? You’re shaking..”

You swallowed thickly, breathing starting to pick up in pace. It felt like someone was choking you. A few tears rolled down your cheeks, and Campbell immediately moved to wipe them away.

He had this soft look of concern written across his face.

“Woah, you’re ok,” He pulled you close, and even in your nonverbal state you managed to pull together enough sense to bury your head in Campbells chest, “You’re safe. I’m right here.”

He moved you to sit on his lap, leaning up against the headboard of the bed you were sitting on. Campbell slowed his breathing, hoping that you’d follow his example.

You drew in gasps of air, trying desperately not to suffocate. Everything was too much. The lights of the hospital felt blinding, and all the overlapping sounds of talking and air conditioning hums and nurses and music and-

Campbells palms came to rest over your ears, and you reached up your own trembling hands to cover his.

In all honesty he was scared they’d sedate you. He hadn’t seen you have a panic attack this bad in a long time. You shook in his arms, letting out a choked cry as you finally managed to pull in a full breath.

“There we go, that’s my boy,” Campbell brushed his fingers through your hair, mumbling soft words of praise to help you calm down, “You’re safe, i’m right here with you.”

You let out a pathetic whine in response, signaling to Campbell that you were conscious enough to hear him. You felt less like you were being choked now, and it was easier to breathe.

“good boy,” You could feel his heartbeat through his tear stained t-shirt, and you weren’t sure how long it had been since this started but you were glad he stayed, “just keep breathing. Nice deep breaths.”

It took a few more agonizing minutes for you to finally come back all the way, and while you were still a bit shaky, it wasn’t as bad as before.

Campbell watched from your shared bed as you pulled away and stood up, pacing with a hand pressed to your chest to try and calm down fully.

It felt too cramped in his arms. You stumbled every other step, but it was nice to keep moving.

after a minute or two you came back to bed, face red and blotchy but no longer crying.

“You feeling better?” He asked as you sat back down, smiling when he was met with a nod in response.

“Mostly.” You never felt too inclined to speak after panic attacks. It all just felt like too much.

“Good,” Campbell reached out for your hand, squeezing it three times before kissing your forehead, “Can’t have my boy out of commission, we still got a show to do.”

You laughed quietly, more a breath out than an actual sound. The positivity in Campbells voice was infectious.

You curled up in Campbells lap, head laying on his thigh while he stroked your hair.

He didn’t mind staying there while you slept. He’d wake you up when it was time, for now he’d let you rest.

[faithintheunknownsblog]

LULU FATHER OF PLANTS AND FOUR CHILDREN???? im SENSIBLE!!! aand i dont want to force it, but could do it the other way around? would be alucard/vlad human and your s/o is botanist?? and theres a little cottage style house in a field with flowers… that would be lovely (and the four kids playing too) i really love your writing!!

A/N: AHHHHH FINALLY DONE!!!

So for the sake of the story I will say this is more modern day since I still have no idea what to write for a botanist (and I’m sorry that there is not much for the botanists part of the story)

Weeds and Wildflowers

You wake up to an empty bed and the smell of your favorite breakfast food, making you smile. It was a Saturday which means family day, which is what gets you through every draining work week. You throw on your pjs and head straight to the kitchen, the first thing you do is greet your beloved husband with a kiss.

To think such a mean looking man would be one of the most loving and caring people on earth. Alucard is a family man because he didn’t have one of his own growing up and being with you, and having children, is more than he could have ever dreamed of.

Alucard kisses you back and once you two break apart he says, “good morning, love. How did you sleep?”

“Like the dead,” you yawn. During the week you’re the one who has to take care of the kids most of the time because Alucard gets stuck at work.

You two have four beautiful children; your oldest daughter Emma who is seven, then Joseph who is five, Charles who is two, and your newborn Ava who is only four months old.

Then there is your fur baby, Baskerville, though he isn’t a baby. He is a fully grown wolf that Alucard decided to help when he found this wild wolf limping in the field a few years ago. Then Baskerville decided to follow Alucard home and he’s been a pet ever since. Baskerville is gentle and extremely protective with the kids, even when the kids are rough with him.

“Mmm, I don’t doubt it,” Alucard says and flips a pancake. He may not be home much. But always tries his best to get home before dinner so he can help put the kids to bed, though that doesn’t happen too often. But he ALWAYS makes sure to take the load off your shoulders whenever he gets the chance. Like if he does get home for dinner he will make sure to clean the dishes, and spend time with the kids before putting them to bed. Alucard takes on the responsibility of tending to Ava at night even though he gets home late and wakes up early. He will go to Ava whenever she cries before you even get a chance to realize. That’s why you keep bottles of breast milk and/or formula in the fridge, so he can just grab one and feed Ava to get her back to sleep.

“So what should we do today?” You ask Alucard as you sway while hugging him from behind. But before he can answer you both hear three sets of feet- along with four paws- puttering their way towards the kitchen.

The steps are accompanied by laughter and Alucard quickly moves away from the stove before the kids could make their way into the kitchen. Because once the kids do make it to the kitchen they run to their father to embrace him in a hug.

Alucard is able to pick them all up at once and spins around, all laughing but you have to quiet them down, “shhh! You’re gonna wake Ava up!”

“Alright, alright,” Alucard sets the kids down and goes back to the stove. The kids all sit down at the table and patiently wait for breakfast to be served. Which wasn’t too long because Alucard has already been cooking for a little while now, just so he could have breakfast ready for them.

You decide that it is time to get Ava up anyway, so you go to the nursery to get her. When you pick her up she’s a bit fussy at first but that’s normal for any child, so you sit in the rocking chair and breastfeed your daughter.

Once you’re finished with that you get yourself all situated then leave the nursery carrying Ava out with you. But before you can even make it through the kitchen entrance, Alucard is taking Ava from you and holding her close.

Alucard tickles Ava and she lets out little laughs. Alucard lets out a soft chuckle, his ocean blue eyes full of fatherly love as he watches his daughter smile.

Ava is the only one with those beautiful blue eyes, but other than that you think she’s going to look more like you than him. She has your nose and smile. Emma looks like both of you but she has her father’s laugh, Joseph looks more like Alucard but has your hair, and Charles looks like you but has Alucard’s smile. Not that any of it matters because your children are all beautiful nonetheless.

After all of you are finished with breakfast it’s time to get everyone ready for outside. Whenever the weather allows it, everyone is exploring the backyard and letting imagination create new adventures. Though you have to sit back with Ava but it doesn’t bother you much since you want to let the kids play with their father. Besides, watching Alucard with the kids is so heartwarming because he has just as much energy as them.

Even if you don’t keep up with them you still do walk around the yard with Ava, Baskerville is right by your side as you two walk. He walks between you and the field, just in case he needs to protect you and Ava from something that could come out of the field. Though he still listens for the kids as well, he knows they’re safe with Alucard as they run around the yard and climb on the huge swing set that Alucard paid to have hand built for them as soon as he found out you were pregnant with Emma. And it was all worth it with how the kids never want to get off of it.

Currently Alucard and the kids are playing pirates, which includes sword fighting with sticks. You know Alucard has control of the situation but your motherly instinct still makes you tell them, “be careful! You’re going to poke your eye out!”

They don’t listen to you and continue playing, having the time of their lives. You just shake your head and watch them play to their heart's content. They’re climbing on the swingset and terrifying you as they jump off it and into Alucard’s arms. They’re ‘walking the plank’ and Alucard is the shark that eats them. You trust Alucard but dammit your children are daring and it scares the daylights out of you. They get their fearlessness from their father without a doubt.

Like how they will run into the half an acre of nothing but weeds and wildflowers that you inherited after your father passed away. The field and cottage have been passed down for generations, and the field was well taken care of for the longest time. But your father couldn’t keep up with it, so it got out of control.

Truthfully you don’t mind it though because there is so much more to explore and study now that the plants are all wild and free. It also gave you the perfect environment to study when looking at plant hybrids caused in the wild.

You continue to walk the edge of the field and look across it to see if there are any new plants to take note of. You notice some weeds around a group of flowers and decide to pull it. You know there isn’t really a reason to because the field was filled with weeds already and the flowers were still thriving. But it was a weed you haven’t seen before so you’ll take note of it once back in the cottage.

Alucard and the kids notice you and Baskerville walking along the field then run up to you because they decided to walk with you. The kids ask questions about everything you stop to look at but it doesn’t take long for them to start playing again, which you don’t mind as long as they don’t hurt themselves or each other.

Eventually the kids run into the field and Baskerville protectively follows. You and Alucard watch from the outside because he needed a quick break. He might have a lot of energy but keeping up with three kids that treat him like a jungle gym takes its toll.

You watch them run in the field, everything seems okay at first but the closer you look the sooner you realize what’s wrong and your eyes go wide. They’re running towards a patch of poison oak and as soon as you notice you yell, “get out of there!”

Alucard instantly goes on high alert noticing how you’ve become distraught and without question he immediately runs towards the kids. He doesn’t need an explanation, just knowing that something is wrong is enough to make him act without a second thought.

But even with how fast he runs he’s just a few moments too late as the kids run straight into the poison oak. And of course when they see their father heading towards them they stop, causing them to stand still in the patch of weeds you desperately didn’t want them in to begin with.

“Careful! It’s poison oak!” You shout to Alucard but you know he doesn’t care, he still runs into the patch of poison oak and grabs up the kids as if he’s trying to save them from a train. Baskerville runs behind them, he luckily didn’t run into the poison oak either.

Times like this you’re glad Alucard never wears shorts. It could be a 100°F (38°C) outside and he will still be in a pair of pants. The worst he’s going to get is a bit of a rash on his arms, whereas the kids are going to be covered in it since they’re wearing shorts and tank tops.

Once they are out of the field Alucard sets the kids down and they’re already scratching at their skin. You know that they’re itchy but you don’t want them digging into their skin, “no, no, don’t do that, it’ll make it worse. Let’s go back to the cottage and get you all clean.”

They nod and all of you walk back to the cottage, Baskerville walking closely behind.

Alucard looks over at you, “I’ll make sure to take care of that and anything else. You’ll just have to point out what needs to be gone.”

“I will but we have to get the kids treated first,” you say and continue walking to the cottage, opening the back door once you’re there. You let the kids in first and tell them what they need to do.

“Emma you go get a shower in my bathroom-” you turn to Alucard, “can you give the boys a bath while I put Ava down for her nap?”

“Of course,” Alucard says and takes the boys to the other bathroom.

You go to the nursery and get Ava all settled then make lunch for the rest of the kids as you wait for everyone to get done. Part of you can’t believe it’s already noon, time does fly.

Once the kids are out of the showers and at the table you grab the calamine lotion, gauze wrap, and gloves so you can treat the kids before the itching gets any worse. Alucard also grabs a pair of gloves to help as well, both of you putting lotion on the kids arms and legs then wrapping the gauze around them so they won’t scratch.

Once done with that you give the kids and Alucard lunch then grab your book full of notes on what’s in the field of wildflowers. You aren’t surprised by the wild oak popping up- it was really only a matter of time- but you wonder why it took so long for it to emerge. Or maybe it’s always been there and you just didn’t notice, you’ll have to check it to find out.

Alucard looks over your shoulder seeing how you’re writing questions for yourself to answer later. He doesn’t like the poison oak being where the kids could potentially get into it. But he also doesn’t want to keep you from doing your studies, so he thinks of a compromise, “should I just temporarily fence the patches off so you can look at them first?”

“Would you?” You ask with a sheepish smile, you know you don’t have to ask because he wouldn’t offer unless he would.

Alucard kisses your forehead, “of course honey. I’ll get to it now and you take care of the kids, okay?”

“You remember what it looks like, right?” You don’t give him a chance to answer, you dog ear the page and just hand him your book, “here, just in case.”

“Are you sure honey?” Alucard knows how protective you are when it comes to your book, even though you have let him use it a few times before with instances like this. Like when there were berries that were unsafe to eat growing at the edge of the field and you were worried that the kids might try to pick them. So you had those uprooted and taken care of so they won’t keep growing with the treatment you use each year.

“Mhm, just to make sure that you don’t run into anything else-” you nod to Baskerville, “-take Basky with you as well, just in case.”

Baskerville is protective of the kids but you want him to be with Alucard in case something goes wrong. Besides there isn’t much to do now that the kids are covered in poison oak. Usually you limit TV time but you decide to let them pick a few movies to watch until dinner.

Alucard is unable to fence off all of the patches while he’s out there but he gets the ones that are the easiest for the kids to get to. He also picks a bunch of berries that he saw you write down as okay to eat in your book. Which makes for a good side to go with dinner.

The next day you spend outside with Baskerville, studying the poison oak and fencing the rest of it off while Alucard stays inside with the kids. Once you’re done studying you go back to the cottage to do even more research, though you are positive you already know how to get rid of it without herbicides. But you always double check because you can’t remember everything.

Your research doesn’t prove you right but it doesn’t prove you wrong either. As there are many methods that are along the same lines but there are some slight differences between each of the remedies that claim to be the best.

Some say to completely remove the root and some say to just cut the plant down to the stem. Some say to wrap the plant in plastic and some don’t mention anything like that. Some say use vinegar and some say a mixture of vinegar, soap and salt. There are so many things and it’s a mess.

BUT this does give you the chance to do what you do best, testing and figure out which one is truly the best through trial and error. So you do different methods on different patches. If you didn’t have an interest in plants and worked with them for a living you’d definitely find all these steps you have to go through for the different methods annoying. But you love it.

You take notes of how the plants change and what works best. You even made up your own method along with combining parts of other methods together. You take notes of your controlled variable, independent variable, dependent variable, and constants.

And as time passes you take notes of your data daily and eventually find out which method is the best. Now being able to create a safe environment for your kids where they can run and play to their heart's content. Alucard makes sure to remember what was the solution you used and knows what to look for in order to check if there is any regrowth of the poison oak. Working with plants comes in handy when trying to keep your kids safe as they frolic in open fields of weeds and wildflowers

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Why Aren't You Here

��Previous Parts Here🩸

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO dynamics (knots, slick, heats, mpreg), alpha serial killer/hitman Dom, omega mob boss Kells, cursing, weapons (guns, knives, bombs), murder, bloody, lots and lots of death, scared boys, kidnapping, past abuse, past SA, fighting, cops, news crews, attempted SA, Megan being the absolute worst, a little madness, Dom's darkness, Blain and Kells being badass omegas, denial, lies, the plot is plotting, momma bear Kells, threats, even more death, enemies to lovers 💣 Rating: mature AF

All ideas helped by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

Dom arrived to a hellscape of surreal proportions. There was a helicopter overhead, SWAT, cops, and emergency response members of all kinds. There were news vans and people gathered all over, it made him sick to his stomach. LA was always too bright but it looked like daytime with all the bloody lights. He hadn't been able to get anywhere close with the car so he'd left it blocks away and run. He pulled his hood up and kept his head down, looking around the crowd for his people. When he finally spotted them he tried to appear like any other lurker as he wandered up but the moment he reached Tom and Mod the omega squeezed him in a hug. He took a deep breath and tried to let the scent of family settle his nerves but it wasn't the smell he needed. He was realizing that extra sweet scent on his lover that morning had been his whelp and he craved that more than anything.

“Wha's ‘appening?” He asked, down to business as fast as possible. He kept an arm around his brother but he gave the beta and his computer his attention.

“I still have access to the cameras for now but if they cut the power I'm not sure what will happen. There's a guy on the roof, three in the medical flat with our people, another four walking the floors, one in front of the safe, and Megan has Colson in the lobby. It's like she wants the fucking attention.” The beta huffed and Dom nodded. She might want it but his mate must be pissed. On top of everything else he hated being in the media unless he had control over it. “I don't know for sure how many are in our home.”

“And Blain?” His voice almost broke but he held it together. He wasn't sure how the kid had become so important to him already but the thought of losing him was too much.

Tom made a soft noise like a sniffle that he hid against Dom’s chest which almost made the Alpha's heart stop. Mod just shrugged and bit his lip, looking up at the windows they knew were theirs. “Colson disabled ours when you moved in for some reason.” The beta blushed because they all knew exactly why. They had a habit of fucking wherever they felt like and of course his mate didn't want the wrong person seeing. With his green hair Dom couldn't help but think Mod looked like an upside down easter basket and he let out a strained laugh. He might truly be going insane. “Kids a badass.”

“He's a bloody kid. Show me Cols.” Dom demanded and the other pulled up that camera in full screen. Megan was too fucking close to his family. The omega's face was bloody and his teeth were grit, he was leaning over with his hands on the counter but he was still glaring at the bitch. At least he hadn't lost his fight yet.

“There's bombs in the stairwell and I think she has the detonator. That's why SWAT won't go in.” Tom explained and the boy felt wild with grief and fear. He was so focused on the image of his love he growled when someone touched his shoulder but when he looked it was just Tim.

“I hate to be the one to tell you but I think he's in labor. Something was up at work so I sent his ass home to The Doc. I'm sorry Dom.” The older man looked gutted but it obviously wasn't his fault.

“You did the right fing. I should ‘ave been ‘ere. She'd ‘ave been dead before she even looked at ‘im if so.” The blame game didn't matter, he could hate himself later, but he didn't want anyone taking guilt they didn't deserve.

“Where were you?” The man asked and Dom rolled his lip between his teeth. He couldn't get into it right now.

“Collette needed me. She'll be ‘ere soon. Keep an eye out. And Tim, keep ya ‘ead about yas aye?” He wouldn't ruin the fucked up surprise because he didn't have time, he had to rescue his family.

He gave Tom one last hug which both betas got in on, he didn't like being touched but he understood their need. With one last look at his mate on screen he took a deep breath and melted into the shadows with a practiced ease. He was both thankful for his past and hating it, being a serial killer gave him special skills but being the most prolific one the world had seen in years made him not exactly friendly with the coppers. He avoided them and the cameras as best he could until he reached the hidden way he got inside for the first few months of their relationship. Before they met he made friends with a smoke happy janitor who knew all the secret spots to toke up. Dom had acted like that's all he was looking for and shared a joint with the guy on the roof. The poor idiot, he should really have him fired now but he was still thankful for the help.

Climbing the ladder was more difficult than it ever had been before. Every few rungs he had to twist himself to one side and hide against the edge of the building. The way it was designed he had a little coverage but barely and it wasn't long before he had the helicopter flood light timed. Before he reached the top he took his inhaler, he'd been wheezing since he ran for the building. He couldn't help but think what a silly picture of a hero he made but he wasn't that and he never would be. Not like his mate.

He stopped at the top and risked a quick glance over to pinpoint where the guard was. The bastard was near the door to the stairwell because no one really knew about his secret one. It was some remnant of when the place was built, left over for window washers and the like. It only took the Alpha a moment to pull out two of his blades but he waited for the light to pass over one more time.

He exhaled a shaking breath and threw a knife, hopping onto the roof at the same time. He ran as fast as he could and caught the man before he fell and dragged him to the other side of the building. He pushed him over the edge and jumped onto his balcony as the dying bloke thudded onto it. He didn't stop moving until he had the glass door open and he was sliding the fucker inside. He had the door shut before the light ran over the building again. He was damn glad he'd taken his inhaler on second thought.

He kept pulling until he had the intruder on the tile floor of the bathroom and finally he ripped the blade free. The first spurt of crimson had him smiling and his shoulders relaxed as he slipped into his much needed other headspace. He started to kneel out of habit, ready to slice into the jerk more but of course he couldn't. He didn't have the time. This wasn't for fun for fucks sake. “Almost distracted me. Fuck you! First ya tried to mess me carpet and get me in trouble. ‘Ow bloody dare yas.” He gave the man a swift kick to his neck and the sound of bones breaking underfoot soothed his rage.

His next move was out into the bedroom to look inside the closet. A fight had obviously broken out but he didn't see blood or bodies. He rushed to his drawer of knives and slipped them wherever he could on his body but as he left through the bedroom he paused at the bedside table. “Fuck. Ya knew you'd get me ‘ere eventually didn't yas? You know I bloody ‘ate ‘em. Ya went into labor on purpose didn't yas? Wanted to stress me out. Make me mental.” He pulled his hoodie off and tossed it on the bed as he spoke out loud to his lover who obviously couldn't hear him. He yanked open the drawer and pulled out his mate's gun, they'd been keeping it there since it basically became a sex toy. A loaded one. “Bloody ‘ell.”

Exploring the flat was easy in his darker state of mind. He wasn't thinking of what he might find, he was focused on what he got to kill when he did. It was a cat and mouse game, a hunt for him, a predator searching out his prey. He found the first body in Blain's room, his carpet soaked in blood. There was a dead beta cut to ribbons and he couldn't help but smirk. In the kitchen was another, bleeding out on the tile. At least he'd be easier to clean up. “Where's the boy?” He growled.

“Fuck you and your little slut.” The bastard spluttered blood on his floor and he rolled his surely crimson eyes before he crushed the fucker's windpipe under his creeper.

“Grandpa shoes me arse.” He muttered as he stopped at the safe and found a silencer to screw into his weapon. He barely knew what he was doing but it was a day of firsts he supposed. Of course his lover would drag him out of his comfort zone.

The stairwell was a mess when he entered it, red everywhere as if someone had exploded. Between their floor and the next was another dying beta which he put out of his own misery with a bullet to the forehead. Normally he loved death rattles but gasping for air through a ripped open throat bothered his misophonia. He only liked wet noises when it was coming from his omega's cunt or mouth. He was distracted from his thoughts and annoyance by the first bomb which he took a picture of with his phone and sent it to his brother. He wasn't sure if there was something he could do from here or if he needed the detonator. He was so wrapped up in his wondering he didn't notice the form coming for him until something jumped on his back from a floor down.

“The fuck?” He huffed.

“Dom?” A small voice sounded right next to his ear before the boy dropped and he turned to face his tiny attacker.

“You alive?” They whispered at the same time and hugged each other tight. When the Alpha finally got a good look at the kid he couldn't be prouder. He was an absolute mess.

“Did ya see? Ain't let a one of ‘em touch me. They keep trying but I'm better. I was trying to get to The Doc when tha’ fucker grabbed me from behind-” His voice broke and Dom held him closer.

“You did so good. I'm proud of you. I'm so bloody sorry I weren't ‘ere. I should ‘ave taken ya wiv me to confront Collette. I'm sorry.” The words were rushing out before he could think better of it. It wasn't exactly the time for apologies but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

“It's alright. I protected the ‘ome. Did ya see? Didn't let ‘em get me.” Blain repeated himself and his voice sounded wet. Dom knew everything was starting to hit him now that he felt safe. He didn't want to be an arse but it wasn't time for that yet. They had to save everyone. He was genuinely worried the kid might be lying to himself but he couldn't ask yet. He swore mentally he'd be a good father as soon as they were done but he had to protect both his children first.

“You did. I'm so proud of yas and Cols will be too. We ‘ave to get ‘im, Megan's got ‘im downstairs.”

Blain went stiff against him and took a deep breath, wiping his face on Dom's chest before he took a step back and held his blade at the ready. “Let's kill ‘er. Bitch messed wiv the wrong family.”

“Damn straight.” Dom knew he picked up the saying from his mate but he didn't care. It was appropriate for the moment and it made them both grin.

They entered the next level to find only two bastards with guns, it seemed the third that should have been watching their omegas had gone for Blain in the stairwell. The Alpha took them both out quick and quiet, slitting their throats from behind. It only worked because one was at the door and the other was leering at their people. Disgusting fuck. The Doctor and Dorothy were happy to see them but he couldn't linger long. He took the weapons off the bodies and passed them to the girls and they followed him back out and down the stairs.

With his hair dripping sweat and his gun held out in front of him he scanned every floor and took out intruders as he found them. His pulse picked up the closer they got to the ground floor and he had a passing thought of wondering if he looked like a mother duck leading her ducklings which made him laugh again. Yeah, he was definitely going mental. He picked off the bastards one by one but when they reached the first floor Blain stopped him.

“Go get him, we can handle anyone else. They need ya.” The boy gave him a quick hug and The Doctor though still teary gave him the Star Trek signal again. He nodded at them all and slipped into the shadows, he knew he'd have to be careful with another Alpha.

🖤💣🖤

“You realize there's fucking cameras everywhere right? Even if you make it out of this alive you're going to be arrested. How the hell do you plan to get out of this?” Colson finally asked, he'd been mostly silent for too long. He'd been listening to her rant for what felt like hours. She'd gone off about his parents, his mate, the family, and she'd been explaining to him in detail how easy it was to steal the other group. Who wouldn't follow a sexy female Alpha? He'd barely kept his snark in check for that one.

“Look at me, who would condemn me for finally fighting back against the boss who'd been abusing me for years? It won't be hard to make everyone believe me. Pretty privilege is real. You could have tried it. You always took the hard way but now all your lies are coming to bite you in the ass Daddy. Now you look like all the other asshole Alphas and I look like the poor girl who just wanted to break through the glass ceiling. Of course after years of you assaulting me and making me love you when I found out the truth I snapped! I'm doing the world a favor, taking you out and exposing Yungblud. I'll have to off him too then I'll really be a hero. A fucking icon.”

Colson's stomach rolled but he hadn't stopped being nauseous the whole time. Her lies were disgusting but that was just her. Nothing was real and he was pretty sure it never had been. The scary thing was that she could probably pull it off. As long as she only killed him and his mate and people that obviously worked for him- rest in peace driver, she could probably pout her fake lips and cry crocodile tears enough that everyone would listen. He had a reputation for selling people, though the DA could never prove it. She'd get off scott free wouldn't she? The only way out was to kill her. Even then he might end up in prison if the feds used this to their advantage and said the omegas upstairs were kidnapped and held against their will by him. Was there enough evidence against Dom in their home? Would they be safe if they made it out alive?

Another cramp locked up his hips and belly and his knees went weak. He snuck a look at his watch as he grit his teeth and he knew his pains were too close together. He could tell Punk was close to joining the world and he knew he had to act fast. He had to get to The Doc. “Shit! Okay! Okay. I hear you. I'm sorry for all I've put you through. You're right about me and you were right about Travis.” It broke something inside him to lie through his teeth like that but he had to. He had to do something. He'd never waited to be saved since his adoptive father took him in.

Her eyes looked softer and she lowered her gun and he moved his palm to his lower back as if he were rubbing out the ache. “He was in love with you but my mom wouldn't let him go. She tried to pull me away from you too. I'm so sorry. You've always deserved better. She didn't want me with you so she brought Dom in. I went along with it to make her happy but you always saw the truth didn't you?” She stepped closer and he felt his skin crawl.

“Of course I did. You're my twin flame Cols, you were always supposed to be my omega. I knew you needed me. Why does your mom hate me so much?” She huffed, dropping her arm to her side. When the Alpha got even closer he tried to breathe through his mouth. Her scent was always wrong to him but now it was hell on his senses.

“I don't fucking know.” He shook his head. He very much knew but he had been lying so much of his life it was second nature. Almost easier than telling the truth. “She didn't want us to be happy. She probably knew how much better you would lead the family.”

“I will. I'll make us legends. You'll let me kill her right? She can't be alive to fuck with us anymore.”

“Hell, I'll kill her for you. A mating gift.” He dropped his voice and let pain fill it though to her the growl sounded like need. Her palm laid against his bruised cheek and his arm wrapped around her back. “If you'll have me?”

“Of course Daddy.” She purred, pressing her body far too close. “Just one other thing I need from you…” She trailed off, standing on tiptoe. Three things happened simultaneously, her lips pressed to his as he sunk a blade into her stomach and she cut his own with her claw like fake nails. He gasped at the added pain as she choked on blood and stumbled back a few inches, her hand falling from his cheek to her wound. “I want your brat dead.” She growled and tried to jump for him but something hit her and she fell to her knees.

It took him a second to realize she'd been shot, he'd heard it but it was muffled and he was lost to pain and fear. His fingers searched out the gash in his skin but he hoped it was only a surface wound. He couldn't feel anything bulging out but he stumbled away from her just in case. He watched as she fell and bled out, he thought he would feel relief but he kept expecting her to jump back up and yell surprise. So much was fake about the bitch why not her death too?

Dominic was panting by the time he reached his lover. He'd been terrified to shoot her so close to his mate but when she moved to cut Col's belly open he had to do something. He hadn't realized the older man had already stabbed her with one of the boy's knives. How bloody apt. He stalked over to her and kicked her foot, just making sure she was gone. Part of him wanted to make a show of her but he had other things to focus on.

“Shit Dom? Dom!” Colson's voice was shot from stress and strained from pain, it broke his heart to hear and he turned to race for him.

“I've got yas. I'm ‘ere. You alright?” He asked, his hands reaching out to steady the omega's trembling form.

Distantly the killer noticed The Doctor leading out some of their people and he was glad for it but he wished she'd come to check on Kells soon. “I don't fucking think so.”

“Wha’s wrong luv?” He didn't know why the fuck he asked, obviously the answer was everything.

“I think… I think my water just broke. You have to get me the fuck out of here.” For the first time during the entire mess the omega let himself cry. He felt safer now that his Alpha was there but he was terrified still. His whole world was about to change. He didn't want any of that on the fucking news at eleven. He couldn't be outed like that.

Dom's gaze dropped first to Colson's pants and then to the floor underneath. The man was right, everything around him was soaked in something similar to slick but wasn't. Even the bags of whatever the omega had brought home. “I fink you ruined wha’ever shopping ya did.” He couldn't help but tease.

“Fuck you! Punk did it. Little fucker takes after their dad.” Another roll of intense pain locked up the man's body and had him kneeling in the mess. Dom ran for the door but a gun was trained on him from across the street. He held up his hands and backed up, joining his mate in kneeling on the floor. He placed his forehead against his partner's and let Kells squeeze his hand in his own.

“I don't fink we gonna be able to get out baby. I fink we stuck in ‘ere alone.”

“What? What the fuck? Can't they see the wicked bitch is dead?” Kells sobbed out. He didn't want to be trapped anymore. He needed his doctor and his mom. Where was everyone?

“‘Ey, listen to me. I've got you Colson. I've got ya boff. Do you trust me?” Dom was terrified but he could be strong for his family. He fucking hoped.

“To get a baby out of me? What? Are you gonna use your psycho bitch skills?” He didn't mean it. He was scared shitless. His Alpha understood and just smiled and kissed his forehead. “Yes. Fuck me but yes. I do as long as you tell me where the hell you've been all day!”

Dom swallowed hard and tried not to make a face. Bloody fuck he didn't know how to explain this shite.

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 if anyone wants tagged let me know 🖤

Oh boy look at that! Is Megan really dead? What is Dom hiding? Why won't the cops let them out? I love seeing them all bond like they are and I enjoy them all being so badass. We're so close to the end! I can't wait for part two, a lot more family time to come! I hope you're still enjoying it! 🩸💣🖤

[dazaiosamusbandages]

ik a lot of peeps said that dazais more than a demon and that he has feelings and that even though he did lots of bad things, he was a kid growing up in a bad environment and yada yada but... doesnt he feel truly demonic sometimes? hes truly a fascinating character to me, but the more i try to understand whats going on in his mind, the more dead ends i hit. its like having a puzzle in front of you and never being able to get the full picture no matter how much you rearrange it. or to put it in a more personal way, his mind feels like an abyss. its dark, cold, vast and chaotic. its very scary to me. maybe its because im around the same age as him when he was in the pm but he really feels inhuman to me. no kid should have this kind of cold and empty energy nor give the impression that they're not real, as if they somehow ended up in this world by mistake. even in the more mellow moments, it always seems like his mind is elsewhere, like three universes ahead, looking for something that's beyond human comprehension. idk, what do you think about this? TuT

sorry for the late response, i have been somewhat busy and thus haven’t had the time really to answer anything

tbh to answer this, i think i’ll try to stray closer to my own personal experiences (as well as some others that i spend time with) to be able to explain that kind of “empty” existence and then connect it back to dazai that way. i think with some parallel to the real world, it might put some of his thought processes into existence

does dazai truly feel demonic sometimes? the realistic answer would be yes—of course the demon of the port mafia would feel demonic. he, himself, doesn’t seem to believe he’s human and everything tends to confirm that. everything including his ability, which also in a way could be interpreted to take away others’ humanity as well.

spending time with a group full of a specific kind of mentally unwell people (jirai, if you’ve ever heard of it) has shown me that a lot of these people tend to dehumanize themselves in the same way you see dazai. they don’t often consider themselves good people, but that self-awareness doesn’t stop them from doing bad things.

dazai does lead a somewhat empty existence, however he does still feel emotion and pain just like anyone else—like when oda died, it was (and is still) very painful to dazai. but even still, emptiness is not a foreign thing. this same feeling of emptiness is what i think leads him to make some of those morally questionable decisions, even despite oda’s final request.

the other thing is, i feel like part of what makes dazai seem so “demonic” in the port mafia is that it gave him an environment where the intrusive thoughts would be allowed to win without an immediate repercussion.

sorry if this didn’t fully answer your question, it was pretty difficult to formulate a good response wwww i still feel like i missed a few things i wanted to talk about too, but they slipped from my mind and i can’t remember at the moment soooo

[ashes-writing-corner]

Guys I'm back with another update for Ghosts that We Knew! Finally Soap enters the story! Yes he's alive in this because screw Canon, it sucks and I've made my own!

Trigger warnings for Suicide, Suicide mention, discussion of organ transplant, and a bit of phone anxiety if you squint. Also possibly poorly translated Scottish Gaelic, I used Google Translate. It's supposed to mean "No Fucking Way".

Taglist: @stargatenovus

On to the update!

Ghosts That We Knew

Part 10- Soap

Christmas was a time of giving, and not just gift giving. It was a giving of time, charity, and unconditional love. So you were left with a question: what in the world does one give a ghost for Christmas?

There were so many different possibilities. He could want to live again, if only for a day. But unfortunately that wasn't a gift you were capable of giving. He could ask for nothing, but in your mind that wouldn't have been fair. So…what to do?

Well, ever since Ghost had brought up the name John MacTavish, you had been on a hunt for the man. Scouring the internet through countless people with the same name. You left messages for some, had to call a few others, which was incredibly jarring. You were antisocial enough. This was very much uncomfortable to you. But there was a strange mix of annoyance and relief when no one either knew what you were talking about or turned down your requests to message. You felt like a mad person trying to hunt this man down.

All of this for a dead man, and it felt like you were just wasting your time. With only a few days left before Christmas, you had no way of knowing where to find this guy your ghost seemed to know.

Until finally, someone answered your request to talk…

You had typed to the man, asking if he was John “Soap” MacTavish a few days prior, but it seemed he was only just now getting back to it.

The message was read and one was sent back. “What's left of him…who is this? How do you know my call sign?”.

When you had a slow moment at the Cafe, you were quick to introduce yourself. “HI! Thank goodness, I finally found you! My name is Y/N L/N. I know you don't know me and this is a very weird situation. But…I have a ghost haunting my apartment and I think he knows you. He's been asking after you!”.

With held breath you waited for a reply. Those three damn little dots were the bane of your existence as the man was typing a response.

“My call sign is supposed to be classified. How do you know about it?”.

Really? That's what he was worried about? You supposed it made sense though to an extent…

“Look, I know it's strange. But seriously the ghost haunting my apartment told me. Then he mentioned your name and I had to track you down. Maybe you guys knew each other at some point. I don't know. He's not been too keen on the details”.

A long pause before those damn dots appeared. Your heart hammered in your chest as you waited for an answer. An answer didn't come but instead, you landed yourself a video chat request.

Oh shit…

This was about to either go great or really, really bad. But for Ghost…you had to do it. You answered the chat, only to see who was, arguably, the most handsome man you'd seen in a long time. His dark brown hair was in a ridiculous Mohawk style, but it seemed to suit him well. He had concerned but kind eyes. You didn't fail to notice the scar on his chin, despite it being almost covered by a short well kept beard. He seemed surprised to see you too.

“Um…hi!” You gave a shy but pleasant wave, “I wasn't expecting this but-”.

“You said there's a ghost hauntin’ yer place?” He had a very nice Scottish accent that was frankly making you feel things you hadn't in a while…

You ignored it and gave a nod. “Yeah. He's been asking after you”.

“Has he shown himself? You know what he looks like?”.

“Only a few times. He's tall, skull faced…I've never seen-”.

“Holy shit, that's him. Ya got the LT hauntin’ ya. That's either a very good thing or a very bad thing. There was never an in between with ‘im”.

“So you did know him?!”.

“Sure did. We worked together, on a task force together. What I don't get is why he'd be askin’ after me…” there was a sadness in his face and tone, “it was my fault what happened”.

“I…doubt he feels that way. I think he's been wanting to see you again. He's mentioned you like twice at this point”.

“Where you at, sweetheart?” He asked and again he made you feel butterflies.

“I um…I moved here to Manchester a few years ago after my partner was killed in action. I just…needed to get away from it all. And I thought a change in scenery would help my daughter too. Things got a bit weird after I had a medical incident some time ago and he's been on again-off again haunting us since my surgery”.

“He was from there. You may have accidentally ended in his old flat” Soap replied, raising a brow in interest.

“Yeah it was his. He doesn't talk about it very often-”.

“Does he actually talk? Like…to you?”.

“Yeah! We communicate through an app on my phone! It keeps a record of everything up to about six months!” You grabbed your phone to show him the messages, scrolling to where he was mentioned.

He saw the messages and blinked in surprise. “Jesus…well…if you're worried he's gonna hurt your kid, he won't. If I know Simon-”.

“That's his name?! I'm sorry he just never told me”.

Soap nodded. “Simon Riley. His call sign was Ghost. Apparently he's still goin’ by it. Damn that's not surprising any…”.

“Simon Riley…” the name seemed to roll off your tongue perfectly.

It sounded oddly familiar. Like you should've known that was his name, and now that you knew it felt so damn obvious. Simon Riley…so familiar and yet so far away…

“What…what happened to him?” You asked, genuinely curious.

He looked hesitant for a moment, as a look of guilt and shame seemed to hit him. “Suicide. Physically Simon was at his peak, but mentally he wasn't doing very well. He had it very rough, even before becomin’ a soldier. He came from an abusive home, his family all dead…it all just took a toll. He couldn't handle it. I was the one who reported him the first time he tried. We didn't speak after that. He was pissed at me and I just…kinda left ‘im to it. Thought I did the right thing, but gettin’ ‘im kicked out didn't solve shit”.

You blinked. “It…wasn't his first try wasn't it?”.

Soap shook his head. “First time I caught him and reported it. Thought I did the right thing. I didn't expect them to discharge him. I kept tryin’ ta reach out but I didn't hear anythin’ from him. Second time, he was in a coma. That's when I was there. I tried so hard…I wanted to get ‘im back…tell ‘im I was sorry about all the mess. Even if he hated me he would've known…” he paused, those eyes of his watering, “me and the guys…we all tried. We didn't know just how messed up he was. Gaz got him to talk a few times but he outright refused to talk to me or the captain”

“Hey…” you said in a comforting tone, “what happened wasn't your fault. As you said he was troubled. And maybe that's why he's reaching out now. Maybe…maybe seeing you again can help him move on. Not that I don't appreciate his company. I do. A lot. But…he deserves to rest. Maybe we can help him and you also get some closure”.

Soap nodded looking thoughtful. “I'll see about talking to the guys and maybe we'll make our way over. Never thought I'd get a chance but…we all got a lot to say i'm sure. And if he's askin’ after me, well, it's only a matter of time before he starts asking for the others”.

“I don't think he's mad at you. He never talks bad about you. Or anyone else for that matter. Really he just talks bad about himself”.

“He shouldn't. He was a hero…in a way. In life and in death”.

“Oh?”.

“Yeah, he was an organ donor. We all are in 141st. Not a requirement but highly recommended. He gave blood regularly. Kept himself in shape. He wanted his donors to get the best they could get. His mind might not have been the best but he wanted to make sure the rest of him was”.

You blinked. “I…I suppose I shouldn't be surprised” you paused a moment, “how long ago did he die?”.

“About two years ago. Why? It was roughly around Halloween two years back. I um…wasn't at my best at that time. I actually-”.

“What hospital?” You asked.

It was beginning to click in your head. No way, this had to be some kind of crazy coincidence. There was no way.

It couldn't be…

Could it?

“I can't remember the name off the top of my head. The captain would know. I'll contact Price and see if he knows-”.

“Was it the royal infirmary?” You asked, trembling.

“I think so…why? You okay?”.

You blinked. “I um…I had a medical procedure done a few years ago. You mentioned he was an organ donor?”.

Soap blinked. “Think ya got somethin’ from ‘im?”.

“I…I think I did. But I don't know. I never looked up my donor”.

“What'd ya get? Liver? Pancreas?”.

You lowered your shirt a little so he could see the top of the scar on your chest. Soap went wide eyed.

“Holy shit…gun dóigh air choireigin…” he somehow managed to pick his jaw off the floor, “okay that settles it, I need to meet you. Listen, I need you to find out the truth though. I need you to find out about your donor because this is really fucking insane…”.

“You think he was my donor?”.

Soap looked at you with a serious expression. “I think he was. But it's best that you get confirmation. This is meta as all hell…”

“You're um…you're telling me. You actually want to meet me?”.

“I do. And so do the guys I think. We were all there that night. I think they'd all be very interested in meeting you. Please…I know it's crazy but if you could find out your donor…please do. He didn't have any family so you're actually entitled to that information. And if I recall correctly, he may have left a little somethin’ for you”.

“For me?”

“He wrote notes, letters for his donors in case if he was KIA or somethin’. This definitely counts. I'll talk to the guys and we'll be in touch, alright?”.

You nodded, unable to speak. This was insanity. Who would've thought a haunting would connect you to so many people?

“Alright. I guess I'll see you soon then? I think it's best we meet outside the apartment first. I can give you the address to my Cafe if that's okay?”.

“Yeah that's perfect! You…stay safe. Don't tell him we're coming alright?”.

“Wasn't planning to. This was supposed to be a Christmas thing anyway”.

Soap nodded. “Got it! Thank you! Seriously thank you for reachin’ out. We'll be in touch! I'll see you in a few days!”.

You ended the call and were left speechless. There was no way. Ghost…Simon…he couldn't be your donor…

Could he?

Hey guys if you like this story please feel free to like, comment, and please reblog! If you want feel free to follow as well ^^ I write both fanfiction and original works ^^ thanks for reading and I'll see you in the next one!

[danggirlronpa]

Since polyships are on the table... 🍑 Mahiru/Hiyoko/Ibuki or 🍑 Mahiru/Sato/Hiyoko (I have a feeling this one will go horribly, as I tend to headcanon Hiyoko as being very jealous of Mahiru's affection towards Sato; both Sato and Hiyoko are definitely in love with Mahiru meanwhile can't stand each other. I imagine Sato also dislikes Hiyoko because she reminds her of Natsumi - however fair or unfair that comparison is, I definitely feel like Sato has a hatred of bullies. Meanwhile I think Hiyoko would have a soft spot for Ibuki; she would at first try very hard to push her away and prod at insecurities, but once that failed I could see them getting close. Plus, Hiyoko is attracted to kindness - something that she sees in both Hajime (platonically) and Mahiru, which makes her have a soft spot for them - and underneath her jokey-ness, Ibuki is very kind. And I don't even have to explain why Mahiru/Hiyoko works in this equation, lmao - Ibuki/Mahiru is probably the relationship between the three I've put the least thought in, but, I feel like they'd be amicable.)

Also, my Natsumi rarepairs.... 🍑 Chiaki/Natsumi and 🍑 Mikan/Natsumi... I know they don't interact but Chiaki and Natsumi are very much foils for each other & how they affect Hajime, so I think its a damn shame they never interact... plus Mikan/Natsumi would be so tragic.... finding your girlfriend dead... realizing your friend, Sato, killed her..... selling Sato out to your dead girlfriends brother.... Mahiru having such a favorable view of Sato and negative view of Natsumi & Mikan having the reverse.... the biased narration of Mikan (and Mahiru too).... the thought of my girlfriend was nice to me, a real angel, so she COULDN'T have been bullying you.... and then a year later, meeting a demon in the form of Junko Enoshima, who reminds you so much of your dead girlfriend, who tells you that Hope's Peak is corrupt, didn't look into her death to avoid a scandal with the reserve course so the funding to their pet project doesn't get shut down... and you're angry, you're so angry, that was your girlfriend and they don't even care.... why not let the devil tempt you into revenge? Don't they deserve it? I am so crazy about Natsumi/Mikan and NO ONE is tapping into their potential, the only fics on it on ao3 are my own.... I adore them 😭

I've been holding onto this ask because part of me doesn't even want to touch on a response so it can just stand alone as a testament to the ships. I LOVE seeing people talk about their rarepairs, absolutely fuck yes. Please don't think I'm ignoring you when I'm brief or my thoughts differ from yours because this RULES.

Mahiru/Hiyoko/Ibuki: Neat! Every dynamic in here is fucking stellar. I definitely also think this is a ship that centers on Hiyoko, which in and of itself is sort of fun. Danganronpa fans HATE her. But women LOVE her 😏

Mahiru/Hiyoko/Sato: Basically Canon. I'm biased about this because Mahiru/Sato is my real True SDR2 OTP and I consider both it and Mahiyoko to be Basically Canon on their own. But ALL TOGETHER. BOTH IN LOVE WITH MAHIRU. You know that tumblr post that's like "superhero and supervillain but theyre both friends with the same civilian so when their buddy invites them all out together as civilians they just have to silently seethe at each other across the table"? Yeah

Chiaki/Natsumi: Fine. This. And I'm going to be exposing a lot of things about myself as a person here so everyone just be cool. This is a kismesistude. And I will leave it at that.

Mikan/Natsumi: HELL YEAH. This might only appeal to a niche audience but hear me out, okay. You know yakuza mangas that are like. Oh No I Am A Sad Abused Young Woman/Twink Who Has Been Sold To/Become The Caretaker Of A Child In/Married Into/Reincarnated Into/Otherwise Somehow Become Involved In The Yakuza! im so frightened! what does this mean yakuza want with me!! a heart of gold?! could it be??? oh but because of my abuse i feel like i dont deserve this but through this yakuzas unrelenting instant love for me and very violent vengeance upon my abusers and also some gang drama to force us into compromising situations will i be forced to learn self esteem through the power of love?? THATS WHAT I WANT FROM THEM. THATS THE AU IVE WRITTEN IN MY HEAD. AND ALSO WAY OF THE HOUSE HUSBAND AU

[inactive02]

Loyalty binds chapter 1

a/n: oop, is that me posting. yep it is, im back and alive sadly, i missed yall very much so i decided to work on this heimdall x non binary oc type series. i thought it would've been really cool to finalize it and write it out. this story is pretty much a back story series for my oc, let me know what you think. this is will going on my ao3 as well.

warnings: theres nothing too bad in this first chapter besides hemidall being heimdall.

words: 2k

Running, that’s all ular ever did, not once did he ever let his fears catch him. If they did, he knew he would be a dead man, the same dream plays like the repeating song of morning birds, the voice of someone calling out his name. Chanting, and chanting until “hey boy! Get up.” his sealed eyes were now open, looking around in a panic before finding the person of this voice. 

Ingmar, the big friendly man who took him in. Raised him like his own. His deep blue eyes and jet black hair with slight grays as he crosses his arms looking down at her, “you know I’m not so positive about being late, plus it’s your first time in Asgard! Don’t want to make your first time a horrible experience, get up and get ready!” Ingmar shouts, The teenager groaned in response, rising from the bed he slept in. Today is a special day for this cute sea boy, Ular. As Ingmar said, it was her first time visiting Asgard, the only time he heard about Asgard was whenever ingamr talked about it. The place sounded like a myth or something that didn’t exist, but it did.

“So, today is finally the day you take me there?” ular teased, in a child-like tone as he hopped around behind Ingmar, heading outside their home to walk up the trail that leads to the wall of Asgard.

“You're getting bratty, kid?” he remarks, looking down at him before standing with his arms crossed. The boy silenced himself in mere seconds of that familiar tone, “huggin!” He barked, raven feathers slowly circling them, Ular’s golden eyes widened in curiosity at what was transpiring in front of him. The birds enclose the two as they are transported. A new life, something new to explore, and Discover is the one thing Ular adores. Fresh things perked her interest in mere seconds.

Once the birds cleared a wonderful sight greeted the little boy, the scenery of the Wooden homes, greenery as far as the eye could see. The lively plaza, shops, and friendly faces around the town. Seeing Ular enjoy the warm and welcoming feeling, Ingmar felt brought a smile to his face, “come on boy! There are lots more to see.” Ingmar shouts, getting the attention of Ular’s ears, he moves quickly catching up to him to follow behind.

In front of him was a tall, wooden, and rather large lodge. Ingmar pushes the two heavy doors open with ease, the slight scrap of wood brought the attention of the people in the room. Ingmar greeted himself with unfamiliar faces Ular doesn’t recognize, There stood a tall woman with long blonde hair and a redhead man with a very bulky body, nearly as big as Ingmar 

“Hey, you two! Remember that little fella I always talked to you all about?” Ingmar lips curved into a bearded smile, “even though he ain’t my son, I still treat him like one” he grinned, revealing the small ular to them. The Leventhion ruffles up his hair, earning a slight whine from Ular.

Thor, the redhead, bent down to look at Ular with a cheeky smile. “You look like a tough boy, I mean you were raised by one” he boasted, eyebrow gesturing towards Ingmar, even though all three of them were gigantic compared to Ular. Surprisingly, he kept his composure.

Sif and Thor were their names, ingmar mentioned them a few times to Ular whenever he asked about Asgard. Saying things like Thor being the god of thunder and sif carrying many scrolls of the nine realms, these two were quite the character. “I hope Asgard is a welcoming place as much as you think it is. You two came in time just for breakfast, come have a seat” Sif stated, giving Ular a soft smile as well, going over to one of the maidens and whispering something to them, marching off to the personal quarters of the lodge. Ular didn’t question much about it, for now, he followed behind Ingmar and takes a seat at the big table, very excited about what was being cooked.

The smell from the kitchen passed by the boy's nose, sweet and meat, is what he smelled, stomach growling, Heavy footsteps brought him out of his hungry daze, and glancing to the source, the maiden guiding a sun kissed-skin colored boy, Blonde but slightly Curly hair draped over his face and wearing a long sleeve silky golden shirt and brown pants. His appearance resembled a prince, the most noticeable detail that stood out was his eyes. His iris shining the color of a deep magenta, Ular’s interest in the new-found friend sparked like a match seeing him, excited that he was meeting someone his age. Someone who he can relate to instead of Ingmar whose way older than him.  After Ular reframed from his thoughts to distract him, the boy sat down in front of him at the table with everyone else, Thor scoffs “you look like helhiem visited you” he laughed, getting the attention of the younger boy with a slight groan of annoyance. 

Ular thought that joke was a bit funny. A chuckle left his chocolate lips, then immediately silenced himself once he felt the male's piercing, magenta gaze on him. “You think that’s funny? How would you think the all father would react knowing you’ve brought an unknown guest, Thor?” He spat back, staring daggers at the poor boy, The other aesir continued to eat his food.

“Get your head out of ya ass, Heimdall. You think he doesn’t know about them.” Thor remarks, chewing on more food, before turning his attention to sif and Ingmar. Leaving the two boys in awkward silence as they eat their breakfast, not once did those hateful eyes leave ulars gaze.

Ular looked between his bowl and the boy, hoping he doesn’t talk, but his wishes aren’t always answered “you're pretty silent for a boy with a loud mind, I’m talking to you!” he stated, waiting for ular to raise his focus from that food. Seconds go by until the caramel teen gave Heimdall his attention.

“Sorry, it’s been a while since I had good food” ular elaborated, a cheeky smile following behind, the blonde hated that smile, how can he smile with those loud thoughts in his head? Heimdall questioned, his thick brows furrowing. 

It annoys him.

Sliding the bowl over to Ular, insisting he can have the rest of his meal, Ular swipes the bowl immediately and continued eating the meal, “what is your name?” Ular asked, chewing his meal. The other male felt quite disgusted by the sound and sight.

“I’m Heimdall, I see you enjoy shrimp stew, it’s my favorite” he replied, a smirk growing on his face watching Ular eat the food. Heimdall admires the sight of such a fragile boy, eating the meal, oblivious to what's in the bowl, hearing the last words the aesir told,  Ular’s expression turned from happiness to disgust in seconds. Maybe he’s going crazy but how did Heimdall know Ular is allergic to seafood, in a quick session Ular tries to get the taste out of his mouth, gulping the nearest water. The sound of Heimdall’s laughter echoes in the background from the show.

Ular finished his mead with a loud gulp to add, before slamming it down, “and that’s how he nearly killed me.” he concludes, his head leaning into his rough palm as he sat at the table with his two close friends, Leif the huldra and the bright redhead larvisa. His two friends indulged in the horrible yet, cute memory ular wanted to tell them about. The taller man remembered the memory like it was yesterday, it was probably the last time he has seen the aesir, purposely avoiding him for many years, but to his dismay Heimdall always found him. Giving him a scare or cry, words of judgment even, whenever ular was caught he wouldn’t hear the end of it from that blonde dog. Years went on, and Ular noticed how he hasn’t seen Heimdall that each year. Which is a good thing, right?

“He’s truly an asshole, straight up!” larvisa comments, kicking her boots up as she sips her mead, the huldra beside her silently drinking their water.

Leif gazes over at ular with a slight tilt of their head, “I'm surprised he hasn’t tried to sabotage you when you were volunteering.” they added, to the already bad look heimdall has for himself. The deity’s mind tried to ponder on that thought but it no longer did once he realized he has many things to do today, ones Sif told him specifically to do

“I’ve forgotten I’m on volunteer today for Sif, she doesn’t like it when I’m late, so I’m heading off!” he exclaims, leaving quickly out the bar. Pushing the bar door open, his soft boots mooch on the grounds of Asgard, speed walking to the great lodge. Some people question, why ular who’s a great being of the many seas is on volunteer duty. Well, he prefers to be on the sidelines knowing there's blood on his hands from his family name, he wants to be the opposite of dangerous. If he’s out all willy-nilly, keeping his hands busy doing many jobs like guarding the sea, helping in the mess hall, maybe even helping with training, or going on important missions for Odin with Ingmar and Thor.

 It makes him feel, human. It may sound like he’s your local housewife, but he’s able to do many things that he’s proud of. Those were the very goals he took seriously to the T as he strides to the great lodge, opening the door with a heavy swing, his vibrant irises already finding Lady sif in seconds. Talking to one of the helpers about the task for the day, the seaman moved over to sif and listens in on the conversation. 

Looming over her for a while before she feels his presence, turning around and receiving a beautiful smile from her. Opening her lips to speak elegantly “I hope you rested well, young man” she charms, earning a cheeky smile from ular out of embarrassment realizing he was a bit late to the party.

“I rested greatly, lady sif” he assured, Sif’s eyes lingering on him for a few seconds before nodding and explaining to him the very task he has today, handing over the wooden basket for collecting the sheets in the back of the great lodge. This wasn’t anything fresh to ular, she was used to doing these tasks every day whenever Sif needs him.

Her walking stopped as finished her orders, and she turned to him again, looking up at Ular “you heard everything I said, right?” She pressures, handing him a wooden basket. Watching Ular nod with haste before she strolled off to deal with her duties, His finger slightly tapped on the wooden material, strolling over to the first place, thrud’s room. Picking up anything that needed to be washed, and doing this slightly with haste, his muscle memory knowing what to get or what to not get. These tasks stray him even further away from his father, it's not a bad thing either, knowing that people mistake him for the son of Cthulhu define him only as that and not his own person, they don’t bleed the same color.

The thought of it drives the man insane because he knows he couldn’t do such a thing nor even try, the result of it is a sigh of irritation leaving his trembling lips trying to cast the thoughts aside. Why, why? is all he could ask himself, this life that was given to him by force was no mistake but held a purpose. 

A purpose he hasn’t quite figured out yet.

The sound of soft scrape of stainless leather and clanging metal plates stood out to Ular’s sensitive ears. It is the hinted of armor that holds no extended use, that was shined and oiled, with grace. The kilt was no foreign sound to him, something so unique that it entered the room; a particular person that wasn’t unfamiliar to him, the kilt shifting with the steps he takes. 

“Wow, you’ve grown to be a maiden! A questionable occupation,” Heimdall cackled, the handsome man standing proud as his gaze combed over the deity. It was hard for ular to hate people, even Heimdall himself isn’t going to break that habit for him.

“Is that your way of asking to get your dirty sheets, Heimdall?” He asked, attention going elsewhere to the task at hand.

Heimdall’s hum slipped to scoff from the response, “reading my mind? As if you could, but since you insist..” 

Walking away from the door frame with a slight shake of his head, Ular followed behind from afar, This interaction feels no different from when they were younger, with Heimdall bashing Ular with his words, maybe even with his hands if they spared. Ular never lets him walk all over him as he does with others.

“Do you have nothing else better to do? Maybe something Odin needs?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry a bit about that. I simply came to help you organize,” he retorted, stopping at his room door. The aesir’s gaze searches ular's expression for something with a curious eye 

His eyes only found a stiff expression, the deep golden eyes of a man with little patience. Not even being slightly different from before.

“No matter my words, your thoughts think nothing of them?” he questions, a mocking smirk dawning on his lips as his hands graze his own chin.

“Why should I question the words of a dog?”

“Of what?” He snarls, stepping forward with an intimidating posture to suit him. Magenta eyes pierced daggers into golden ones, They know one of them is always ready to talk back to the other with no problem, why should he be scared?

“Heimdall!” The fair old man called, Heimdall’s focus breaking as Odin’s voice shattered the tension between the two.

“Could you come to my study, I want to have a talk with you.” odin commands, stepping away to leave for his study. Ular could notice the movement on his cheeks, the silent biting of his cheek before stomping away from him. Another thing to settle for future preferences, he has all the patients in the world.

But not for Heimdall.

A/N: this took a while to write, i'll try my best to keep up my flow and im gratful you read the first chapter of something very chaotic thats brewing.

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

Hello, what do you think about the aeon animation that is on YouTube. Why is there so much drama on Twitter, both the Aeon fans and the Cleon fans also got involved. For the Reldfield lineage jokes and Racism for ada. The animator aeon turns out to be Asian too. I don't know, I don't like jokes either, but he said he was going to change it later when he saw the drama there was (I hope). And I don't feel sorry for him either because I see that he gave him love and contract loudly, and he got a lot of hate and people were very bad with their words on Twitter, which I fear will discourage him a little and he won't do anything. more things related to aeon, and leads to something worse, suicide. Because I know of cases like this in fandon.

okay this is a long response incoming (talks about misogyny and racism)

so i wanna preface that i did watch the animation and i did watch their response video and i did see a BIT of the "backlash" on twitter and while im not active on twitter (i just lurk) i did see a few of the main complaints/criticisms/hate but i also saw LOTS of praise and people who enjoyed the animation

i don't know anything about cleon fans getting involved so i won't say anything there since i didn't see any of that

from what i could tell (and im just assuming and inferring) that the creator is asian AND from asia. and the only reason why i'm pointing this out is because there's already going to be a disparity between how we understand what it means to be racist and misogynistic and how HE understands it to mean. and that's not already including how some of his sentiments are very conservative in thinking "being a gentleman etc" you can still be a misogynist while "being a gentlemen"

the main point of contention was the "this is not racist and not misogynistic because this is comedy and i am also asian"

so i'm breaking down my three things

while i don't think it was overtly racist, the "joke" of chris calling Ada a "chinese woman," isn't incorrect but is rooted in a derogatory manner. when someone for example is east asian and making this "joke," it can run flat or not come across as funny anymore because we've literally heard this "joke" for over a decade. (lots of asian comedians make self deprecating jokes or comedy about being asian, this is fine IF THE JOKE WORKS)

misogyny is an IDEOLOGY and i don't believe that EVERYONE is a misogynist but EVERYONE is CAPABLE of having misogynist mindsets, theories, ideals, and more. i think that it's very easy for people online to throw the word misogynist when someone else points out behaviour that they don't like or perceive as innappropriate. while i personally wouldn't call the creator a misogynist, i would just mention that calling oneself "old fashioned" and "a gentleman" doesn't excuse you from potentially having misogynist mindsets.

the styles of comedy is so vast at this point and whereas some comedians had grown their audiences over overtly offensive and racist material, a lot of these comedians are well.. dead. or their comedy has died or their routines are just not used anymore. i don't think there's ALWAYS something wrong with offensive material, (people make offensive jokes but are still funny sometimes) but it's GOTTA LAND. comedy is ONLY the excuse and can work if it WORKS. and i don't know how many times i can "laugh" at (the bloodline) joke. (it was once.)

now to bring all three points in. the bloodline "joke" is rooted in misogyny and racism. the idea of having claire be bound to this extension of a bloodline is an extremely old and pointless theory that all MAN needs to have their bloodline continue. imma be honest - no one is important enough to have a kid or a legacy. the "joke" is also usually paired with chris calling ada just a chinese woman or making some sort of remark on how he would "make claire chinese" in some capacity so that leon would date her. and this furthers the sexualization of asian people and whole "leon has a fetish for asian people" which i thought was only funny cause he asked shen may out for dinner, but i still hold the opinion that he was just asking for food lmao)

while i don't think the creator handled the criticism/hate 100% appropriately. (the video response was a bit 2010s tumblr era wow i can't believe you guys don't understand my humour) i do appreciate that they are taking some time away for their mental health and i do think everyone needs to step away occasionally just to like - be normal and not online

and i do appreciate that they are taking some of the response into consideration (rewriting the story a bit since apparently this change is necessary from the previous story they had) i'm not gonna lie, if every single episode was just aeon people cute and chris doing the EXACT SAME JOKE, it was going to get OLD REALLY FAST.

i'll be honest, there aren't a lot of re content creators that focus on aeon and i do think we as a community need to lift others up. and while you may not agree with every single sentiment that the other person makes, you shouldn't just cast aside the entire creator because of a singular thing they did

do i like the joke? no. i've never really liked the joke. to be completely honest i skipped over chris' part entirely because i felt as though the "joke" didn't land and i've seen it a million times. it's not funny, it doesn't add anything, it's a literal plot device because the creator "wanted something funny" but it didn't WORK.

tl;dr

i don't like the "joke," i don't think it's funny.

[blanket-fish]

Ironman 2 rewatch time:

- I usually skip this one on rewatches so like. I barely remember the plot.

- oooooh this is the one with the lightning guy (not Thor)

- oh so his dad worked on the reactor with Howard? Sick

- wait is this the one with Justin hammer?

- 'Please, it's not about me' if it were anyone else the ego would be annoying. However, it's not.

- oh I've just remembered this is the one with Natasha

- 'Let the record show I observed Mr hammer entering the chamber, and am wondering if and when any actual expert will be in attendance' Brutal.

- 'God bless Ironman god bless america' He's so lame.

- 'Rhodey? What?' oof.

- 'You do understand that reading a single paragraph out of context doesn't reflect the summary-' love this guy.

- ah this scene has it all. Justin being incompetent. Tony trolling everyone else and hacking the screens. Rhodey pretending to be annoyed but finding it endearing. Tony swinging people to his side and making Justin look bad at the same time. Efficiency.

- 'You want my property? You can't have it. But I did you a big favour! I have successfully privatised world peace.'

'fuck you Mr stark'

- 'I'm trying to make you CEO. Why won't you let me?' maybe because you're incapable of clearly communicating idk

- 'Its you. It's always been you' Im totally normal about these two I swear

- NATASHA

- oh god Elon musk is in this movie

- 'What is the difference between hold and cancelled?' Yes, what is?' these two are too powerful of a combination I fear

- 'I was hoping the present something at your expo.' 'Well, if you invent something that works I'll make sure to get you a spot.' tony please he's already dead

- 'I love tony stark, I mean, we're not competitors' Justin! I have good news! You're actually right about that one.

It's just. Not for the reason you think.

- The iron man suitcase is still the coolest version actually

- Here comes Pepper and happy driving recklessly towards a guy with lightning whips. I fucking love them

- 'Were you headed for me or him?' 'I was trying to scare him-' 'Because I can't tell!'

- 'Are you put of your mind?!!!! Get in the car!'

- These three are an underrated trio honestly

- SUITCASE SUIT. SUITCASE SUIT.

- Not to beat a dead horse but it all mechanically clicking into place is so much cooler than nanotech.

- Guy got hit with a car at speed. Was fine. Got hit with a car several more times. Was fine. Tony flings him to the floor. Coughs up blood. ???

- 'All I have to do is sit here and watch, and the world will consume you.' damn that goes hard

- 'Not everybody runs on batteries, Tony' pepper that's so deep. How long have you been waiting to use it?

- oh Justin this is so fucking pretentious. Even for you.

- 'I think, if I may' Justin say that one single more time and see what happens

- 'I don't know if you've been understanding everything I'm saying?' can you fucking imagine if he didn't after that whole monologue lmao

- 'You don't gotta do this alone-' 'I wish I could believe that' that hurt

- 'Thats where the pilot goes. Having a tough time finding volunteers' yeah I wonder why justin

- "Hypothetically, if this were your last birthday, how would you celebrate it?" Tony you are not subtle

- can't help but empathise with rhodey in this film. When the American government wants something you do not want to be the person refusing them. Tony can step away. Rhodey kind of can't.

- 'This is ridiculous, I just stuck my neck out for this guy!' 'I know, I know, I'll handle it, just let me handle it.' 'Handle it. Or I'm gonna have to.' We don't see these two interact much huh.

- 'Im only gonna say this once. Get out' Damn, rhodey snapped

- 'Dont miss Potts me, I'm onto you!' well yes, but actually no

- 'You wanna be the war machine? Take the shot' the fact that rhodey actually does go by war machine. Somehow I think the writer of this line was not responsible for that decision

- The complete absence of dialogue when rhodey flies away with the suit. That's so effective

[fostopia]

hi............. if you are up to it i would very much like hearing about your ocs

** 11/20/23 edit: IM USING THIS AS AN EXCUSE TO POST THIS

* Funfact! I only remembered about this ask now because my friend asked me about the same ocs and it came to mind so I’m picking the old draft back up

Anon you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into

Fun fact about me dear readers I have over 278 oc’s (11/20 edit: now 347) and counting all are fully developed too. However, we’re gonna focus on the ones I posted previously

The ask to make my day OKAY

BACKGROUND

Was on a whiteboard with a bud and he made the joke about throwing a baby he was holding, I told him to do it and drew ‘C supports baby throwing’ which lead to the "#cforpresident" hashtag being drawn by him. This silly little thing promptly dissolved into a full fledged au because none of us are capable of being normal

There’s three universes sorta associated with this au, and there’s no actual name to it— it just.. exists.

PRESIDENT C

The first version of this character in this AU, C (no real name here, just C) is the President [It’s sorta unconfirmed what the fuck he’s the president of but we kept making the joke of him being POTUS so maybe the canon world in this is just… our irl world.] My man’s Vice President is unconfirmed because my bud Sarah who ‘ran against me’ swapped to swat last second so.. guess there is no Vice President. C had a husband (Ace), got married before he entered office and got unlucky cause his spouse is fucking dead. He’s sorta just tired of this shit™️. In this world monster begins aren’t rare but they’re not exactly accepted, even more so if you look dangerous. C is a shapeshifter with his default look replacing his head with a ball of black matter; it’s an odd substance, as it gives off a look of a black hole but you could literally shove your hand into his face and bam your arm is in a weird kind of pocket dimension (this can only occur when he allows it though, so don’t try it you’ll punch the President.)

His other look, however, is much more human but simultaneously is used far less. That look is defaulted to a demon, and although he can change aspects none are permanently and he’ll always revert back to the demon look Oh yeah President C is morally good but he has cannibalized a vampire-bat shifter so, sometimes his morals are off.

His backstory is pretty sparse, I don’t have any ideas for his family life before presidency; he just showed up running for President and gained popularity real fast. He’s very advanced with his shapeshifting, he can use it to become people and even objects or full animals. His main team consists of Orin, the swat captain, and Sarah, who’s a rank below Orin. Sarah’s very responsible and very underpaid while Orin is horrible irresponsible and uses Sarah’s payment on Panda Express. President doesn’t let that slide when he finds out; but otherwise he has a good connection with them both.

TYRANT C

This one was a ‘what-if’ personality/role swap of the President C au; instead of being the morally good, demon presidents— Tyrant C (still just C here) is the morally corrupted, sheep president. Just like President, he’s a shapeshifter with the base for being the black matter head one; however he generally uses the humanoid sheep one more often as a way to seem more innocent and harmless— like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

He’s fuuucked up, his whole point is gaining power and he’s lucky that the force that follows him is so loyal. In this one he had a husband as well, Zander (Ace’s alternate universe self), however the two married purely for tax benefits, the fact that it would help C’s campaign to be a queer president. They were a tragic case of right time, wrong person. Although both of them had truly loved each other to an extent (C didn’t know what love felt like so he hasn’t realized at the time while Zander was constantly bouncing between love and hate) both of them kept fighting. Tyrant was the one to act first but trust me, if Zander had lived longer, he might’ve killed Tyrant first.

He gets away with it because corrupt fucker, however he quickly finds that he needs somebody else to fill in for the spot that Zander had earlier; somebody to bounce ideas off of— and who better to than his SWAT captain, Orin. Orin is a huge simp. He’s actually responsible here however Sarah’s personality doesn’t swap and instead she just doesn’t like Tyrant too much. So, Tyrant decides to seduce Orin to get him wrapped around his finger because really; if he’s got the swat captain he’s got the power of his team too… yeah no, he falls in love on accident. Then he’s forced to acknowledge that this is what love feels like.

He’s a lot less good with his shapeshifting; only able to shift between his void matter and the goat one with even that taking to much energy as he wasn’t able to use them as he grew. He’s a man cut off from the world, however not from sorrow and guilt the same way President did.

Tyrant’s meant to be much more complex than President; his backstory includes shit like abuse from parental figures, cult shit, and with him having been raised with so much negativity he’s completely convinced that this is how everything has to be. Violence and evil have always been his normal; he was a kid groomed into a mindset that never left until he felt something beyond anger for the first time. He’s fucked up, he’s done some real horrible shit, but he doesn’t know that being good is on the table. He’s at a point where learning to grow won’t do anything to reverse years of trauma and anger. Tyrant has regrets he can never voice due to his nailed in beliefs, he will never be able to fully accept that he had loved Zander, that the king sized bed in his home feels too empty. He can’t acknowledge the way he makes two cups off coffee sometimes, one just the way his fiancé used to drink his. He can never come to terms with the fact that he regretted killing him. He can never accept that he misses his parent despite their abuse, that deep down he wishes he were still their little boy oh so willing to help mom and dad out with their ‘buisness’. Tyrant wants to, really, he does. However, some people aren’t capable of accepting that reality. He grew up within a world that called him a monster, and he was merely giving back what they had started.

[llycaons]

ep 32 (3/3): BRUTAL

in the book it was said that wwx was 'half-dead with fear' when he heard this. I loved the phrase

oh NOW you're telling him to play? lwj you're at some kind of crisis here you don't know WHAT you want

on my first watch I remember so clearly thinking 'oh teehee I've seen the spoilers there's nothing to surprise me only to GASP when this shot happened

I can tell it's su she's stupid upper lip and stupid nose too. he has very distinctive lower facial features

I was fully sobbing by this point so idk if I have any more commentary beyond *whimpering noises* look how terrified they are...that's their big sister

pretty fucked up that he's a jiang sect member

oohh, this shot is devastating. seeing him from across the battlefield, in this one instant, they're together again, and then-

this shot KILLS me. I know I talk a lot about wwx but jc loves jyl so much. he loves her so much. that's his big sister too. part of the reason the estrangement is so painful is because I get it. I get his anger and his violence and his bitterness. I don't agree with how he handled it, but I understand it

ohh this shot

honestly it looks a little wonky. there have been several shots this episode that have looked awkward. but who cares

I've been looking forward to the postres arc because it's not as relentlessly sad but I'm going to miss jyl SO much. look at her. she deserved the world

this is another line that slaughters me. she refers to wwx earlier at jinlintai, but this can also refer to their entire relationship. despite his closeness with jyl, wwx has often avoided true vulnerability or honesty with her. especially recently, for political reasons - stepping back, offering formality, running off, slipping away, bouncing her questions back to her. even with this person who's the closest he has to a mother, he couldn't sit down with her and entirely be with her in the way she wanted them all to be. and that hurt her! she wanted that closeness for all three of them, for the rest of their lives. oh jyl im so sorry you all couldn't make it in this lifetime

and this. fuck

oh! that WAS the brother of the archer! it was mentioned in the book but I couldn't remember if it was canon to here as well. ugh, how appropriate it was for revenge

HEY. DON'T PLAY THAT

I've seen a really angry post (in the lwj tag no less) trying to put this situation into a modern context and it characterized wwx as super careless and irresponsible and uncommunicative, who was directly the cause of jyl running into 'a gang fight' and 'getting caught in the crossfire' idk it was super defensive of jc punching wwx but I think it misrepresented a lot of details unfairly. like this is a really complicated and painful situation for EVERYONE that wwx does bear some responsibility for, even if it happened due to other people's decisions besides him. and also he was trying to save innocent people from being murdered, idc how little info jc had about the state of wwx's core he DID know that and he simply didn't care or like try to extend some sympathy and support for him? that's like one of the most understandable goals...ever

anyway saying that wwx was directly responsible for jyl's death is simply untrue. she chose to come to the fight (HOW DID SHE GET THERE??? HOW DID SHE KNOW ABOUT IT??? WHERE'S HER GUARDS??? UNIMPORTANT). she came to look for him, sure, but he never wanted her anywhere near it. she was injured by something they thought was under wwx's control, true. but she died because she chose wwx over herself

that's not something he had any control over. and to hold that over his head when there was nothing he could have done once he realized what was happening, for someone who already bears a lot of guilt for simply surviving/being loved/being taken off the streets, it's just a horrifically cruel thing to put on him. and hey, grief doesn't always make sense. but I understand completely why wwx did what he did next. and after he comes back to life, it's even more obvious how much he needs his close relationships to be with people who don't hold anything over him or blame him for simply being alive or demand things from him that he simply can't give

oh....

wwx kills this guy with his bare hands but like. who cares, right? no focus is on this man at all, curiously. jc could have blamed him instead. but he seems wholly convinced that every single bad thing that's ever happened to him was wwx's fault. to be fair, they don;t know about the second flautist yet so it doesn't look great for him, but also...you know how much your sister and brother loved each other! dude!

anyway i feel wretched

personal hightlights (what a joke. no this was a good episode)

god. "I want to stay with him a bit longer" and jyls' face when she sees wwx

madam jin breaking down and sobbing once she leaves the room

the heroic music setting wwx up as the villain of the story is a REALLY good touch

white paint on wwx's face <3

the cry-laughing

all of his lines on the roof but especially the ones about how he has to be careful who he hurts even though anyone can try to kill him with impunity and 'your hatred and admiration both come so cheap!' + the significance that has for wx

pulling out the arrow and killing the archer with it was BALLER

jc holding jyl in his arms is an unforgettable image