#i hate the feeling of anything fuzzy so anything relating to a hand going over such things causes me what i call phantom sensory and i crin

[redysetdare]

I cant be the only person who finds stim boards annoying*/painful right???

*annoying as in it frustrates the brain to look at not in the sense of it being cringe.

[bryhoney]

Recognisance pt.2

previous

TW: Torture, Kidnapping, Drugging

This is shaping up to be looonggg.

Also on AO3

Next

The control room is a hive of activity; Men and women speaking frantically to one another as they crowd around screens. There are people running messages back and forth across the base, each one seemingly vital for the Federation's continued success. 

You find yourself standing alone, staring up at one of the boards in the command centre that is regularly updated with anything even remotely related to the Ghosts. It's dedicated to the most recent images and reports of the task force, some of the notes tacked onto the wall are just simple descriptors. 

It always takes you a second to muster up the courage to look at the board. It's Gabriel's shrine to them, and recently you'd adopted his mission; To understand these men to the best of your ability and hunt them down. You know you should hate them, fear them after what they did to you. But the memories of your time with them were mostly in the dark, their faces were blurry and secondary to the pain they inflicted. 

You'd read every file that Gabriel gave you regarding the ghosts. Most of them were heavily redacted or had large portions missing, individual pages torn away from the document. You had thought that going over these files would jog something in your memory, but as of yet, nothing. As such, you must have read every piece of information on the board in front of you several times over, you've made it a ritual since being allowed back to work. 

You recite the information silently. 

Two of the Ghosts are brothers, the Walkers. There was a third Walker amongst the Ghosts, Elias Walker, but Gabriel had killed him over two years ago. They -

They're ------. 

"----! You're school re----, your brot--- --- -----! -----! Leave h-- -l---" It's a voice you recognise, but from where? An older voice-

You turn to the other images, Merrick and Keegan. 

"Look at ---"

You're kissing someone, holding their head against the crook of your neck. You hear them whisper "mine," before you feel his teeth move against- it's that deep gravelly voice, it's-?

You audibly gasp at the memory and quickly cover your mouth, shaking the thought away. Inappropriate, incomplete. Shut up. 

Looking back towards the board, you take a shaky breath. These men hurt you and took everything from you and yet you hardly even remember them. A part of you worries about what damage it'll do to remember everything they inflicted upon you. 

"Oh ---" is it your name? A callsign? It's fuzzy and sounds-?

Your head is pounding. 

"NO! -----! I'll kill you! LOGAN! LO-"  It's another male voice, do you know who it is? It sounds so far away and yet...

Your feet are bleeding but you stalk forwards anyway.

Your feet are bleeding. 

You know that name, you know that voice. 

"Logan!" you're screaming, you can hear the panic in your voice.  

Your eyes flit upwards, towards the pictures of the Ghosts. 

LOGAN WALKER - M - 2001

Oh God. 

Your heart sinks and suddenly you dread the idea of remembering. You hate that one of the Ghosts is now more than a name on the wall. You suppress a sob, steeling yourself momentarily before moving towards Gabriel and the commanding officer. Despite being engrossed in their conversation, Gabriel must sense your discomfort as his hand moves to hover over the small of your back. His eyes never leave the man in front of him. 

Had you hurt Logan Walker? Is that why the Ghosts wanted you? The man's voice was furious, sincere, and threatening.

"Did you get that?" Gabriel asks, disturbing your train of thought. 

You shake your head, "I-" 

"There's been a sighting of them, New Mexico, we'll be flying out towards the border in three days, you're with me," he repeats. His tone is hard and unwavering, you know better than to argue but you can hardly help yourself. 

"With-? I don't have any field training, Sir," you stutter, taken aback at his proposition. Rorke was a man who almost exclusively lured his prey on foot, out in the open. He had told you that you were involved in the intelligence-based side of operations once upon a time. 

Rage. Blinding rage. You had shrugged your water-logged shoes off, stalking quickly towards the broad back in front of you. You held your knife tightly in your hand. You had the singular goal of eviscerating and killing -----. In the last few feet you launched -- ----- and -- -o---- --"

The memory is interrupted as Gabriel laughs, "Oh, don't you worry, we just want 'em to see you". 

It's dark. It's always dark. 

Someone had drugged you, you kept repeating this under your breath, trying to remind yourself that the shadows and noises you can hear moving around in the room aren't real. They're just hallucinations. 

Not real. Don't look at them. 

It becomes harder to ignore the bright eyes that blink at you from across the room sporadically. Figures would move in front of you, at inhuman speed. They weren't real. They weren't real.

You yell into the abyss, "Hey! I can see you! You're not real! You. Are. Not. REAL!" your voice is hoarse. It hurts to scream but you do so anyway.

Your chair spins and suddenly you're face-to-face with a skull.

No. A man wearing one of the Ghost masks. You couldn't make out which one they were. The stains on the mask were moving and shifting.

He grips your face hard between his gloved fingers, his voice sounds warbled and is almost static-y in quality. Colours shift around him as he moves, creeping into the holes of his mask. It's beautiful and terrifying all at once. 

Which one was he? 

His voice is cruel, "I'm real though, ain't I?" A hand creeps over your shoulder, digging into your skin before vanishing in the next second. You flinch at the sensation and the hand holding your jaw tightens. 

"AIN'T I?" He yells against the shell of your ear, a scream erupts from your chest. Your bones are shattering and knitting themselves together all at once. His voice is underwater and it's drowning you. 

The air around you splinters into blinding flashes. You're blinking rapidly, trying to adjust to the onslaught of light.

"Yes. You're real, you're real," you whisper, trying to draw all the air you can into your lungs. Your broken ribs prevent a full inhale. 

He's behind you, you hadn't seen him move. His mouth pressed against the shell of your ear and you sob at the sensation. 

"Oh, sweetheart," he whispers, the vibrations are needles of sound that pierce you, "are you afraid of the Ghosts now?"

You hear his laugh echo around the room, as a knife carves its way through the flesh of your sternum.

You hear someone screaming, it sounds like you. 

You wake up screaming, drenched in sweat. You launch yourself across the room and hit the wall hard, scrambling for purchase. You crumple to the floor, sobbing into the darkness as you rapidly assess the room around you. You're not in the hole. You're not back with the Ghosts. 

You're safe. You are safe. Safe.

Your hands come up to your chest, checking for open wounds but all that remains are the silvery, raised scars. It's the middle of the night, you've likely woken someone up. 

Your door crashes open and you throw yourself backwards once again, sliding across the wall. A cry leaves you and you hate how pathetic you sound. 

"It's okay, I've got you, baby. Daddy's always got you," your heart ached, your dad loved you. 

You wanted your Dad. You wanted to go home. You wanted to remember.

Gabriel stands in front of you for a moment before rushing to your side, assessing you. 

"Ssh. Ssh, I've got you" he whispers, pulling you towards him and you finally break, crying into his arms. Your hands rush to cover your face, legs tucking themselves closer to your body. 

"What did you see?" His voice is soothing, he runs a hand over your head, holding you close to him. 

"It was them - I was back in the room with-" You're sobbing freely, grateful he's here. 

"I know, I know. You're safe now. You're with me" He easily lifts you and places you gently on the bed, tucking you under the covers as he continues to hold you. 

You're uncomfortably warm in his embrace but for once, you're being held tenderly. Whilst your time in the hole isn't always clear, you can always remember the pain. 

That's how you fell asleep that night, in Gabriel's arms. 

You don't dream again for the rest of the evening. 

—

You’re terrified to be in the air, to be flying towards the conflict. Towards the ghosts. 

You’re doing all you can to not physically shake at the thought. You want to lash out and scream at Gabriel and yet you're relying on him to get you through this. How could he do this to you? He knew what this must be costing you, but he trusted you and saw your value. 

Fuck. 

“Sir, 10 minutes out” the pilot states across the comms. 

You might see them in just ten minutes and you hate how vulnerable you feel. You're absently thumbing at the sleeves of your dress, some thin grey thing that went passed your ankles. The rest of the team were in their uniforms, armed to the teeth whilst you sat there idly, entirely dependent upon them to protect you. Gabriel had disarmed you, made you weak. 

He argued that you were there for intel and behind-the-scenes work, so civilian clothes were appropriate. You wished that this was the only reason he'd given you, he'd gone on to explain that you were going to be used to draw them out. Gabriel wanted to entice them to act irrationally, apparently, they were furious you had gotten away from them. He was going to lure them out, and you didn't need weapons for that. 

You weren’t sure why he thought you’d be that important to them, or why they’d go against all their training to take you and Gabe down. But you trusted him, he was the Ghost Hunter, the best of the best. 

He was also your commanding officer. So, what he said was law. 

—

The landing pad was out in the open, in front of the base that overlooked the dry mountainous region it was nestled within. Gabriel wouldn’t tell you anything, not why he thought they might be overlooking the base at that time, why he didn’t want to engage with them face to face. How was he so sure they'd see you as you alighted the helicopter? How could he be so blase about the situation? They might just decide to fire some RPG as soon as you ste-

Shut up. 

You suppress a yelp as the helo touches down, taking Gabriel's hand as you move to step off the aircraft. Your stomach turns as his hands move to your waist to help you down.

Your dress whips around your ankles as the helo thrums back to full power, taking off almost immediately after the last soldier's boot touches down. 

“Dad’ll kill you – he catches you —eaking out – meet some b—-. Let al—- if Hes- ca—-- you —. You’re still the ba—-. Quick! Go– I’ll co—-” A kind voice, muffled still but there was laughing, smiles, comradery. Your teenage years? Your brother? Your father? 

You had a brother?

A family? Why couldn't-

You didn’t like how frequently these memories were coming back, how they were less fragmented and easier to understand. What else would come back-?

Before you could properly dissect the new memory, Gabriel had a hand on your shoulder, urging you to duck slightly as the helo took off. He began leading you to some of the men who’d been waiting for your arrival. They were smartly dressed and flanked by men on both sides. 

“Higher!” It was your voice, happy, laughing, young.

“You’ll fall!” A boy laughed at you, his voice deeper, older. 

“I’ll catch you!” another boy, younger, arms raised. 

The sun is in your eyes. 

You shook your head, dispelling the tears that rose to your eyes and you greeted the men alongside Gabriel. His hand had slid from your shoulder to your lower back.  

You smiled and nodded politely, thoughts torn between piecing together the revelation that you had a brother, someone else who called the same man, “Dad” and the uncomfortable feeling of Gabriel's hand on you, as though he was all that anchored you to Earth. 

After what felt like a lifetime, you felt yourself being manoeuvred across the landing pad, towards the very edge of the rooftop. It was a sheer drop, this base carved into the side of a mountain. He pushed you until your toes were over the edge, hovering over nothing. Your arms moved to grip him, "Gabriel?" You didn't plead with him to stop, you trusted him. His hands tighten their hold on you. 

You trusted him. You trusted him? 

“One of us” 

His voice was low as he whispered, “Can you feel them?”

“What?” you whispered, unable to understand his meaning. You felt completely out of your depth and terrified of the drop in front of you. 

“They’re out there, can’t you feel their eyes on you?” His hold tightens even further before he leans forward, over the edge. Your heart plummets and you gasp at the sight, whipping your head skywards, as though you could counterbalance him. You were leaning over a drop of at least 10 floors. It wasn’t his actions that terrified you though. 

He’s talking about the Ghosts. He was saying they were right there, watching you. 

“Sir, please - what if-” your heart rate is frantic. You were out in the open. They were out there. Watching you. 

“You’re good, they ain’t gonna shoot us out here, they’ll want to get closer for that”. His voice reverberating from your collarbone where his chin was resting. It was inappropriate, wrong.

“Only I get to —-” a hand was around your throat, his mouth was- 

He laughs at your breathy inhale, slapping his arm onto your shoulder and roughly turning you back to the compound. His change in demeanour was startling, but you realise that the Gabriel you know at the base and the Gabriel who thrived during the hunt were two very different people. 

He was right though, you could feel their eyes on you.

Next

[partiallypearl]

ipod shuffle challenge

wanted to write, but couldn't figure out how to start anything, so i figured i'd bring back the ipod shuffle challenge and see what i could write for btr characters! if anyone else wants to try their hand at it, the rules will be below, and my drabbles will be under the keep reading!

IPod Shuffle Challenge Rules: Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle. Write a ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards! No editing! Do ten of these, and then post them.

What do ya miss? - Matt Storm

The box in the back of his closet holds everything Kendall’s too scared to look at. All the things Jo gave to him. The light blue beanie. Tickets from when they went to watch Varsity Vampire 3 together. The friendship bracelet she made for him while Big Time Rush went on their first tour. 

It’s a sad graveyard of sorts of his ex girlfriend. He hates it. It’s like no matter what he can’t escape her. 

And the sadder part? He doesn’t really want to. 

&

Scatterbrain - Emei

Logan’s never been very scatterbrained. He’s always had his head screwed on pretty well. But Camille makes his head go all fuzzy, and his heart feel like it's going to pound out of his damn head. 

She smells like vanilla cake, and her lipgloss sticks to his cheeks and lips no matter how much he wipes it off. She’s everywhere. He sees her in the Palm Woods, and around LA, and when they’re on, it’s great, but when they’re off, it sucks. 

She’s not vindictive of it either. Though she definitely could be. 

&

get a grip! - caroline dare

“I thought it was common sense to not break your promises?” Lucy asks, and Kendall gives her that stupid sheepish smile that makes her always forgive him. 

She had told herself, when she first got to LA, that she wasn't going to pull the same shit she did in Georgia. She wasn’t going to let a boy get her hopes up again. She wasn’t going to allow another boy to make her think she was his whole world, when in reality she wasn’t. 

But here she is. Watching as Kendall flounders for an excuse, knowing damn well that she knows the truth. That Jo is back, and that even if he won’t admit it, he’s already made his choice. Truthfully, Lucy never stood a fucking chance.

“Get a grip on it.” She tells him. He looks at her, green eyes flaring up. “Like you really want it Knight. Because I’m not waiting around to be disappointed again.” 

&

you don’t know me - allison iraheta 

Lucy’s album goes viral as soon as it’s released. Kendall does his best to avoid it. You Dumped Me For Her is scathing, and he’s well aware how badly he fucked up. Besides, he’s happy with Jo. He doesn't need to keep up with what his sort of ex is doing. Right? 

Nonetheless, he’s pretty damn good at avoiding Lucy’s music until she releases her second single, You Don’t Know Me. The song is pretty similar to You Dumped Me, but the lyrics haunt him even more. 

“You don’t wanna know what’s real,” the song says, and Kendall remembers the Asian rockstar telling him that at one point. They’d been hanging out in Lucy’s apartment alone, and he had asked her why she never talked about her past. 

“Boys like you typically run away from girls like me.” She had told him, sipping on the wine coolers she’d snuck in. Kendall had disagreed with her, and he had protested. “No. I wanna know everything about you.” He had said after a long sip of his beer. Lucy had shaken her head. 

“You don’t wanna know what’s real Kendall. It would scare you away. Trust me.” He had wanted to protest, but he decided not to. 

Now, nearly 6 months later, he thinks she may have been right. He didn’t know her. And now, he wasn’t exactly sure if he wanted to.

[eiightysixbaby]

Maybe the boys and a gender neutral reader with OCD? Specifically hygiene related? For example, having to take showers every day, wearing slippers around the house constantly, always washing their hands, etc. I was officially diagnosed yesterday and it’s been a little bit jarring not gonna lie 😭 thank you so much!

hi love! I hope you’re doing well amidst the diagnosis, and I hope this can provide even the slightest bit of comfort. I hope I wrote this in a way that translates well to you. 🥺

I think Eddie would pick up on these traits almost immediately, he notices the way you wash your hands more than he does, notices the way you’re adamant to shower every day, clinging to that routine. I also think he’d immediately adapt to any of your needs, while simultaneously trying to calm you in situations where the OCD really takes over and your intrusive thoughts are nagging at you. He’d do little things like always having fresh towels ready for you when you’re coming over, wanting you to feel like you can shower if you need to. He keeps fuzzy socks and slippers around just for you to put on if you need them, wanting to make his environment as comfortable for you as possible. But he’s also right there helping you to breathe through it and steady yourself when you’re in a frenzy, he wants to help you overcome the anxiety surrounding your compulsions, reminds you that you’re safe and secure whether or not you wash your hands again, whether or not you have bare feet on his floors, whether or not you get a shower in today. He works with you to find alternatives to those compulsions, other things that you/he can do instead to combat those thoughts and feelings.

Steve is the one who sits you down the second he notices your behavior seems off, he notices your anxiety is heightened and he’s opening up the doors to having a conversation with you. He’s asking you what you feel, what you need from him, how he can help you. When you need him to distract you from your intrusive thoughts, he’s ready and willing, he’ll read to you or play loud music and dance with you, literally anything to get your mind off of those pesky thoughts and to deter you from following through on any compulsive actions. However, he’s also there on the days where it’s harder, the days where you just can’t shake the thoughts and the days where you need to do certain things to feel safe or to make the anxiety leave you alone. He always reassures you that you’re so strong, so brave, so incredible for dealing with something so difficult, and he’s truly just there for anything you may need.

Jonathan definitely hates seeing you going through anything tough like this, he knows it weighs on you when your mind is telling you to wash your hands, even when you just did ten minutes ago. He knows that it’s frustrating and he does anything and everything he can to keep you smiling. Sometimes, he’ll offer to shower with you when you’re itching to take one, asking you to let him clean you. He sees it as meeting you halfway - you get that shower in and your nerves can be eased a bit, but he is the one washing your hair and your skin, he has a bit more of the control there, taking that weight off of you and helping you feel comfortable relinquishing the need to control every aspect of your hygiene in an obsessive way. He grows that extra layer of trust with you, and he’s so so sweet about it all. He wants to see you thrive, and he’s always so encouraging, always telling you that he’s proud of you and that he’ll be your rock as long as you need him.

[thenexusofsouls]

Which muse do you see yourself using more often?

Is there any any themes, tropes, or cliches that you like giving to muses?

Are there any relationships among your own muses? If so, tell us more!

Any muses you had to revise or any you think you need to?

List some random facts about any muse of your choice!

Are there certain muses you like using for certain types of prompts (fluff, serious, angst, ect).

For OC characters, what is some inspirations or the thoughts sparked up your OC? Any of your choice.

For canon characters, tell what drew you to use a character to make them a muse? Any of your choice.

Do you prefer it when people have a specific muse they wish to interaction with or do you like to do it by random?

Do you have any new muses in the works? If you so, can you tell us about them?

Which of your muses you think is best for me to interact with?

Which of your muses is the easiest to get along with? Which one are the hardest?

Have there ever been a muse you stopped using? If so, have you ever thought about bringing back?

{i am the caretaker of souls} Alright! *rubs hands together* Here we go with all these juicy multimuse questions! Below the cut for length.

Which muse do you see yourself using more often?

On this multimuse blog I tend to use Nuada and Tony the most because they're the most popular and well-known overall. After that, Wade has a lot of active threads right now, even though he's not as well-known a character in general. I'd love to use my OCs more often, but they tend to not have as much activity.

Is there any any themes, tropes, or cliches that you like giving to muses?

( Already answered here! ^_^ )

Are there any relationships among your own muses? If so, tell us more!

Oh yeah, there are several, actually! =)

Channe, Jix, Aurelien, and Strychthia are all from the same fictional world of mine. Jix and Strychthia are good friends. Channe and Jix have an interesting friendship in which she thought he was an annoying nuisance when she first met him but now they're cool with each other, heh. Channe and Aurelien do not get along at all, because Aurelien used to be bonded with her ex-lover with whom she had a very abusive relationship. So she associates him with that, and she hates undead creatures, and Aurelien doesn't appreciate her hate because he's never personally done anything to her to earn that from her.

Gizmo and Trinket are biologically related. Gizmo got wet, popped off a few fuzzy little balls that grew into new mogwai, and one of them was Trinket. So Trinket is kindof Gizmo's progeny. They're friends, but Gizmo thinks Trinket gets into a little bit too much trouble for his own good. Unlike others like Stripe, though, who were downright mean or evil, Trinket's mischief is usually good-natured and harmless.

Ivan and Esther are obviously from the same movie, so they have associations. They're both from the same order of Priests, and he was her combat and strategy mentor when she was very young. They work well together and there's a lot of trust between them. They also have romantic feelings for each other they've never acted on because of their vows.

All my MCU people have associations between them, like Nat and Clint being friends for a long time, and also friends with Tony. Them all being on the same team, of course. And Strange is... I guess an associate of theirs occasionally although he was never an official Avenger.

Freya "raised" Eric from the age of fourteen, oversaw his training to become a Huntsman, and then... well, tried to execute him, heh. She loves him as one of her "children," but refuses to admit that to herself. Eric has a complicated relationship with his sort-of adoptive mother, and has never really developed any emotional attachment to her at all. He tried to kill her, unsuccessfully. Needless to say, they don't get along.

Any muses you had to revise or any you think you need to?

A couple, yeah...

I've revised Aryx a lot over the years, but that's because I've been writing him for over a decade, so he's evolved over time. He's from a book I never finished, the seventh in a series. I really liked the idea of him, though, and wanted to write more of him, so that's why I brought him here. But because I hadn't developed him much for the book I ended up abandoning, he was not very fleshed out to start. So his personality has become more detailed and refined as I developed him more through rp.

Raiden I've also had to revise. He's not an OC, but when I started writing him years ago, MGR:R hadn't come out yet, so I was basing him only on his timeline up until MGS4. MGR:R was very different from any other game he was in and it expanded upon his personality, motivations, and psychology considerably. So I had update and revise my idea of him and how I wrote him to include everything that was in that game.

List some random facts about any muse of your choice!

Alright, here are five random facts about Jix!

Despite being tiny, very adorable, and often regarded as a child because of the sound of his voice and innocent behavior, Jix is actually middle-aged. Leaflings have varying lifespans depending on the specific type they are. As an oaken leafling, Jix's species tends to live about 50-55 years. I usually write Jix as being around 25, making him not only an adult, but already halfway through his lifespan.

Jix loves to sing! Unfortunately for everyone around him, he's not that great at it and usually makes up ridiculous songs that go on forever, haha. But he really does enjoy himself when he sings, and this only is compounded by having alcohol. Drunken singing Jix is just about the most adorable sight you'll ever see.

Jix is notoriously bad at both climbing and swimming. This stems (no pun intended) mostly from the fact that his "shoulders" and "hips" don't have great range of motion. He can move his roots a lot to coil around things or grip things, but where they're attached to the "trunk" part of him, they're very stationary. His arms can only be lifted up so far, with his shoulders being unable to bend fully straight upwards. This makes it difficult for Jix to have the range of motion he needs to swim and climb, especially if he makes a mistake and needs to react quickly. He has good reflexes, but not the body flexibility to back then up.

Jix's favorite food is berries, and his favorite berry is the strawberry. He's... kindof addicted to them. Offer him a strawberry and he'll be your friend for life. It's also adorable how the juice stains around his mouth and makes him look like he's got big, painted, clown lips or something, haha.

Jix's leaves go through all the same seasonal changes as the mundane oak trees his species mimics. He grows buds and then nice green oak leaves in Spring, he carries those leaves through the Summer, in Fall they turn pretty colors and then fall off, and in Winter he has no leaves at all. Jix doesn't like that his leaves fall off in Winter because he thinks it makes him look unattractive and naked. XD

Are there certain muses you like using for certain types of prompts (fluff, serious, angst, etc).

Aryx, Jix, Trinket, Gizmo, and Leeloo are perfect muses for slice-of-life, fluff, and cute/happy/goofy threads.

Ivan, Michael, Carl (Luke), Nuada, Raiden, Nomak, and Martha are better for dark, horror, drama, angst, or heavily psychological threads.

Channe, Aurelien, Ethan, Strychthia, and Veridian are good for fantasy, supernatural, or otherwise weird threads, heh.

All the rest I use for a variety of different themes and genres in threads.

For OC characters, what is some inspirations or the thoughts sparked up your OC? Any of your choice.

Oh gosh, almost every OC on this blog had a different type of seed or seeds of inspiration that prompted me to create them, heh, interestingly enough.

Channe's background story was inspired by this piece of art by Linda Bergkvist (caution, it is graphic for blood/gore!) here. Her personality and the type of character she is was inspired by Jadis from The Chronicles of Narnia: The Magician's Nephew and Tilda Swinton's portrayal of Jadis in The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe (2005).

Aurelien was originally inspired by the voice of Grimoire Weiss in the game NieR: Gestalt, and that is actually his VC to this day. You can hear examples of him talking here. He's basically a smart ass, very arrogant, very proper, and rather cultured, lol, which is perfect for my idea of Aurelien. I took that inspiration and thought of a creature typically assumed to be evil but that would have virtuous origins and a rather tragic backstory. In other words, I was challenging myself to write a character who, basically at first sight, would be judged by others solely on appearance to be evil or dangerous... and then totally not be, heh. I actually made him originally for a D&D campaign that was set in my fictional world Aurelien is from, in a place called the Deadlands. I wanted the party of adventurers to go into this fabled terrible land all scared and anticipating the worst, only to meet the most polite, proper, and morally upstanding shade creature ever. XD It was a hit, actually, they loved Aurelien, and he ended up joining the party as an NPC, lol. I loved him so much I wrote him into the book I eventually wrote for the world, and then brought him to this site some time after.

Trinket was inspired by an art doll I have. There was someone on Etsy who had been making Gizmo dolls, and after I purchased one, it was so amazingly good that I then ordered one of her custom mogwai dolls, where I got to choose the colors. When I received that doll, I named it Trinket (Gizmo and Trinket seemed to go together as names, heh), and then I got the idea to give him his own personality and make him a muse too.

Veridian was inspired by this very realistic life-sized art sculpture (warning for some uh... merman nudity, heh) that can be seen here: x, x, x, x. I just thought the design of the body was so interesting, because it was more serpent-like than like the classic fish design merfolk are usually portrayed with. It inspired me to write about the type of merman he is, why he's got this long tail, about his particular genetic type, the differences between merfolk like him and more traditional-looking ones, etc.

Aryx was inspired by a photo of his FC (In.stag.ram model and fitness/wellness influencer William Tyler). I didn't know who the heck this guy was when I first saw that photo, haha, but his look inspired me. At the time I was planning the seventh novel in a series that prominently featured angels and demons, and I thought he had the right look about him for an archangel. I have no idea which photo it was that sparked the inspiration since it was years ago, but have a random photo just as an example here, heh. Aryx is then also inspired by a song by Red called "Already Over, Pt. 2." I imagine the song is what Aryx is thinking as he falls to earth, and the "you" of the song would be his patron god, whom he feels is always with him throughout the process. He just surrenders to this long, drawn-out, terrible experience and places his trust in his god that everything will be alright on the other side. So yeah, having the visual inspiration of this really cool looking guy combined with the beautiful sound and emotion of that song somehow combined into Aryx's gentle, kind, loving self.

Jix is actually inspired by the Treants of Dungeons & Dragons lore and the Ents of Lord of the Rings fame. I thought to myself... hmm. Giant, talking, walking trees, eh? Cool. Okay but what if there were... wee, cute ones? XD And Jix was born.

Strychthia was inspired by the third story entitled "The Companion" in an anthology movie called The 4Bidden Fables. I basically took that character, which had no background, almost no story, no explanations for anything she was wearing or what species she was, and very little personality to work with, and expanded her into my own OC, using that character as her FC. I found her adorable and inspiring and I loved the story she was in, and I just let it motivate me to create a character around this basic appearance and shell of the movie character. Here is some lovely concept art of the character from that movie that inspired Strychthia.

For canon characters, tell what drew you to use a character to make them a muse? Any of your choice.

For a lot of my canon muses, aside from just liking the character overall, my reason for wanting to write them is usually that I wanted better for them or felt they deserved better somehow. That's true of Freya, Raiden, Ivan, Esther, Nuada, and Nomak, and probably others on this blog.

Just taking one at random here... but Martha broke my heart. This poor girl, seriously. She had so much happen to her, finally escapes a cult, and then is forced to deal with her trauma on her own because her sister and brother-in-law were completely insensitive to her needs and unobservant to the signs of trauma she was exhibiting. Then they throw her out and send her to a psychiatric institution? And the movie just ends there? No! Poor thing! Come here and let me write you! XD I just wanted better for Martha. I wanted to see her get real help from understanding people, to be comforted, to be treated adequately medically and well emotionally, and to get to a better place in her life. I wanted her to feel safe and to be take care of, because she needs so much help, and I felt she deserved that help. The movie left me completely wanting as far as Martha's story, and I didn't want to let it end the way it did and have that be the last word, heh. So that's why I decided to write her. =)

Do you prefer it when people have a specific muse they wish to interaction with or do you like to do it by random?

I do, yeah, because I'm super indecisive, haha. So I prefer when someone says they want to interact with a specific muse rather than letting me choose. Also, for actual threads, it's better for me to have an idea of how to start and maybe even where the thread might go when I start writing, and that's hard to do if I'm not given a specific muse up front. It's not like I can't think of one to use, but it's a lot easier for me to have the choice made up front.

Do you have any new muses in the works? If you so, can you tell us about them?

No, not at the moment. I'm trying to downsize muses, so I'm not looking to add more right now. But even if I was, I don't think any canons have inspired me lately to add them. I have plenty of OCs I'd love to add, but I'm not looking to, so I'm trying to ignore them all, haha.

Which of your muses you think is best for me to interact with?

All of them. Seriously, I love all our threads and you're an amazing writer, so yeet any of your muses at any of mine, anytime you like! =D

Which of your muses is the easiest to get along with? Which one are the hardest?

Hmm... the easiest to get along with are... Jix, Aryx, Strychthia, Gizmo, Ben, Leeloo, or Veridian. The hardest ones to get along with are Channe, Nuada, Nomak, Marie, Freya, and Ivan.

Have there ever been a muse you stopped using? If so, have you ever thought about bringing back?

Oh yeah, there have been a lot over the years that I've stopped using, for various reasons. Sometimes the FC was one I didn't want to use anymore, or I dropped them for lack of muse or inability to get any activity for them, or I didn't get a good response from people at all so I decided this isn't a character that will work well on this site, heh. There are a couple I've thought of bringing back, but right now I'm trying to reduce my activity a bit so it's more manageable, so I probably wouldn't do it anytime soon. But if I did bring any of them back, it'd probably be either Luther West or Adam.

[numerousbees1106]

If You Touch It, You Might Drown

Tumblr fucked up my formatting, so if the tags sound interesting to you, go read on Ao3 for a better viewing experience. https://archiveofourown.org/works/54921667

CW for past implied non-con, though nothing is explicit and the word itself is never used.

“What’s the last thing you remember, General?” Rex asked. He looked old - they all did, now. They were haggard and aged by time and circumstance, their faces wrinkled and their hair graying despite the glow that held steadfast in their eyes.

Anakin hesitated.

“Rushing to the Chancellor’s office,” he lied after a moment’s pause. He couldn’t tell them - not yet, perhaps never. It was one thing to wake up in a strange ship secured with the most extreme measures possible short of just freezing him in carbonite or dangling him above an endless pit. It was one thing to panic (quite understandably, he thought) at this, and it was one thing to realize that all his friends, all his family, appeared two decades older than when he last saw them, only for him to realize he had seen them, somewhere, sometime since everything went hazy, fuzzy, blurred around the edges and misted over like fogged glass. It was one thing to realize with sickening, unparalleled horror and disgust that his body, his skills he had prided himself in and worked so hard to hone, had been weaponized and used against those Anakin loved, those he swore to protect. It was one thing to realize his comatose corpse had been made into a warlord, had been used to terrorize the Galaxy for the many years Anakin had been… absent. It was one thing for him to realize he had been chipped, and before that, mind-controlled by the man Anakin once trusted with his life and with the life of his friends and family, the man he adored and worshiped and served - it was another thing entirely to admit out loud what had happened in that office, what that same man had done to break him enough to slip through the cracks and take over.

Anakin didn’t think he had the strength to admit what happened in the privacy of his own mind, for that matter. He could face all other truths - even the harshest truths, the truth that Ahsoka had grown up so much without him, the truth that Padmé was gone, dead before Anakin could admit his feelings towards her. He could face the truth that the war had ended, that everything he had fought and strived for, everything he and his men had bled and died for, had been nothing but a farce, a graceless yet grossly glorified game. He could face them all, except the truths related to the Chancellor, to the way the man had so successfully blinded Anakin to it all, had taken the world and the Galaxy as a whole and even reality itself, had torn it down, had rebuilt it again tilted ever-so-slightly in his favor. Anakin couldn’t face the depths of his closest friend’s treachery, the betrayal that ran deep beneath Anakin’s fault lines, that threatened to break him apart completely.

More importantly, he couldn’t even stand to think about what he had done to him.

“General,” Rex sighed, sounding disappointed. Anakin flinched, minutely, at the sound, his face paling. He had heard the disappointment in Palpatine’s voice during those few rare, lucid moments that Anakin remembered. That disappointment promised pain and suffering, and it took all of Anakin’s willpower not to flinch away or shudder at the thought.

“I know you’re lying, General,” Rex murmured, his voice quiet yet somewhat tense. He sounded more… sad, than anything. Hurt, maybe.

Anakin hated making those around him sad. He hated hurting people even more, even if sometimes it seemed it was all he was ever good for.

“I- I can’t-” he tried to explain, his words catching in his throat. He hoped Rex would understand anyways, would see the depths of Anakin’s trauma reflected in his eyes, would know to drop the subject.

“I can’t,” he finished lamely, his hand shaking and trembling against the table.

“Why not?” Rex asked, his voice soft and sincere and devoid of any judgment, but Anakin flinched anyways, that helpless-alone-afraid feeling lurching inside his gut, re-emerging from deep within his contaminated soul to press against the inside of his skin, to well against the back of his eyes as unshed tears.

“I- I’m not strong enough,” Anakin whispered, the tears breaking free and streaming down his face. “I can’t stand to even think of it. Please.”

His heart thundered in his chest, his breathing rapid and shallow, his body trembling.

Rex nodded slowly, his eyes eclipsed momentarily with some sort of half-understanding, before returning to the perplexed but not unkind state they had been before.

“Please don’t make me say it,” Anakin begged, the world narrowing down as darkness prowled at the edges of his vision, some great beast waiting for the right moment to pounce.

“I- General, please understand, they need an answer. They’ll-” Rex closed his eyes and swallowed, a pained expression on his face. “They’ll kill you, Sir, if they think you’re lying. Please.”

Anakin ducked his head, that great lurking beast stalking ever closer.

“Palpatine- Sidious. He p-put s-something in my drink,” he began, stuttering and tripping over his own words and his own thoughts.

“Go on,” Rex murmured gently, softly, his warm eyes round and welcoming. Anakin had missed him oh-so-dearly, both the moment he had left for Mandalor and in the few moments of lucidity he had had since then.

“He- He pinned me d-down t-to the desk, and h-he- he-”

Rex sucked in a sharp breath, horrified understanding dawning in the man’s expression.

“General, I- I’m…” he trailed off.

“Please don’t make me say it,” Anakin pleaded once more, his hoarse voice barely more than a whisper.

Rex’s comm buzzed before he could answer, the man glancing at it with an odd mixture of trepidation and relief.

“I’ll talk to them, sir. I’ll figure something out, I promise,” Rex murmured, standing from his seat.

With wide, watery eyes, Anakin nodded, exhausted and drained, gray clouding his vision as Rex headed towards the exit.

“Pl’se d’nt make me say it,” he slurred quietly, slipping into the maw of unconscious. “‘M not-”

Not strong enough.

[c4p7ch4]

Hi 👋🏻

I’m going to use you as a fic suggestion box/idea dumping ground.

I think Basta is terrified mirrors— related to his superstitions. He frequently sees illusions of shadows standing behind him when he’s getting ready in the mornings. He believes the mirror is a portal of some sort and will typically avoid looking at them longer than necessary.

Basta once broke a mirror during a rage and started having a panic attack. It wasn’t his first, but he still couldn’t breathe. One of the maids (your OC maybe) found him after he fainted right into the middle of the glass shards. When he woke up in the infirmary, he wouldn’t do anything but ramble vaguely about how he “broke the gate”.

 welp, notes are at the end of the post

One-Shot: Basta (Inkheart) x OC (Zera)

Warning: english is not my first language; also, mayybe a little infodump on paramedical protocol or whatever to call it (I can’t help it, I’m obsessed with my job) 

“I admire scars. I like to watch them heal, they add character to a person. And they always tell a story.” Basta remembers Zera’s words from today, when she nursed to one of the boys who got a nasty cut on his cheek. The boy got hurt when he and some others were being trained in knife throwing by Basta. The poor fellow was dared by his mates to stand target - and he was stupid enough to follow the request. He wasn’t badly injured, but he became miserable the second he saw blood flow down his face. Basta practically had to drag him to the infirmerie. Before they entered, he hissed into the boys ear: “Not a word on how you got that cut. If she hears that I let you do somethig stupid like that, she’ll take her anger out on me instead of you.”

The boy was white as a sheet when he sat down and Zera did her best to calm him down. The stupid boy was more concerned about having an ugly scar than about the fact that he almost lost an eye, Zera soothed his worries. Her kind words were like honey to Basta, even though they weren’t directed at him. He couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy inside.

But now, that he was standing in front of his bathroom mirror, lights out, shirt stripped, arms bare, all that warmth was gone.

I doubt that you’d like this story, he thought to himself. 

Pictures flashed before his eyes, memories of another life. A family, kneeling in front of their house, begging for their lives. A father offering his daughter to save his own head. Capricorn ordering to lock the girl inside the house and set it on fire. Basta following order, reluctantly, lighting the thatched roof with a torch. Flames taking over the house rapidly. The girl screeching inside as the fire consumed her. The sound of her voice was so horrifying that Basta froze in place, too near to the flames. It was too late for him to realize that he stood too close, his shirt already caught fire, eating into his flesh. 

Basta looked at the horrendous scars, which will remind him of his deeds for the rest of his life. An intense anger overcame him. He felt anger and rage and hate. Hate for these horrific scars. Hate for himself. He knew he deserved to look like this. Like the deformed, evil monster he was. 

In his fury, he threw up his hands into fists and banged them against the mirror. The glass broke and shattered down on him like hot, stinging rain.

It took him a moment to calm down. Stunned, numb, he looked down at his bleeding hands, they had splinters. He followed the streaming blood with his eyes and watched as it flew onto the broken glass on the floor. 

He stooped headlong to start gathering up the shards to clean up the mess when suddenly he saw a flash of light reflecting off one of the pieces of glass.

No, this can’t be.

 He froze immediately as images of that fire flashed before his eyes again. Unable to stop the memories, he panicked, his breath caught, tears spilled, his heart pounded.

He tried to steady himself on the sink but he could barely breathe and before he knew it the fire in his head consumed him and everything went black.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“And that…” The boy aimed his flashlight at the only house on the street that didn't look like it might fall apart at any moment, “is Basta's house.”

"Fascinating. Are you done with your tour now, can we go back to the kitchen now? I'd appreciate it if Mortola wouldn't beat me up for taking too long. Again." Zera stated annoyed. 

Zera had to be accompanied by one of Capricorns men because she wasn't allowed to walk around alone after dark, so she took the boy she'd helped earlier that day with her. She realized that might have been a mistake when he insisted on giving her a tour of the village after the ordeal - in thanks, he said, for her services. He didn't seem to be listening when she told him she'd been around longer than he had.

She had to do a home visit to one of the black jackets because his girlfriend was heavily pregnant and Zera wanted to check on her daily to make sure, she’d take notice of any complications early on. Capricorn sure as hell wouldn’t allow her to be taken to the hospital if anything went wrong. 

The boy looked droopy when he finally noticed Zeras disinterest.

“You didn’t like the walk? I’ve thought you’d like to see the village since you’re cooped up in the kitchen all day otherwise...”

“I’m sure I’d like the area if it wasn’t occupied by my murderous captors. Anyways, I know the surrounding already, I’ve been at Basta’s several times before, because I had to-” the sound of shattering glass interrupted Zera. It sounded as if it came from inside Basta’s house. 

“Basta?” Zera called out.

“I don’t think he’s home, all the lights are out.”

“But that sound came from inside his house, didn’t it?”

“I believe so, but I don’t want to investigate that mysterious and alarming noise, especially since it’s Basta’s house, of all houses.”

Zera huffed annoyed. “Fine, then I’ll take a look.” 

“You want to break into Basta’s home?! Are you off your mind?” the boy whispered anxiously.

“Shut up and wait outside, I’ll be back in a minute.” Zera hissed, took the torch out of his hand and climbed over the wall into Basta’s backyard before the boy could protest.

She entered through Basta’s porch and looked around the house. She realized that Basta had to be at home when she noticed his black jacket hanging next to the front door. He always put it there when he came home.

Suddenly, she heard a thud from upstairs. Zera tensed and walked towards the stairs.

“Basta? You’re home?” she called out. No answer. She went up the stairs with careful steps and turned on the upstairs light. No one in sight.

She turned to the first door, the bedroom, and knocked. When there was no answer, she entered cautiously, but Basta wasn’t inside.

She turned to the last door on the floor but hesitated to knock.

Do I really want to interrupt Basta while he’s taking a shit? she tought to herself. Instead she put her ear to the door and heared... panting? Irregular panting.

“Basta? Are you all right?”

Zera discarded all her worries when she received no answer and cautiously opened the door when she sensed something right in front of it. She squeezed her head inside and turned on the lights. She almost dropped the flashlight on Basta’s head  when she saw him sprawled on the floor, bloody, covered in glass shards. 

She entered quickly, careful not to trip on his body, and checked his airways. They were all clear but he had an abnormal breathing pattern and he was unconscious, even though she tried her hardest to wake him. She noticed the scars immidiately but decided, that they weren’t of importance right now as they were older. She laid him on his side and ran to the window in his bedroom, it faced the street and Zera shouted down at the boy who was still waiting: “Run back to the house and grab the red backpack.”

She turned to run back to Basta when she heard the boy shout: “What? Why, what’s wrong?”

“Just do it!” Zera screamed back impatietly and went back to the bathroom.

By the time she reached Basta, she heard him whimper incomprehensible words. And his eyes were slightly open, but they were clouded and he didn’t respond to any stimuli. Zera was able to heave him partly on her shoulder and dragged him to his bedroom. He was gone again by the time she laid him down. 

She checked his vitals and waited for the boy to come with her materials. What’s taking him so long? she wondered nervously and took the time to calm down and reevaluate the situation. She thought through every possible scenario that could have led to this. circulatory collapse. seizure. hypoglycemia. But none of it matched with the injurys on Basta’s hands. Did he smash the mirror?

It was now that she realized, that she shouldn’t let the boy see Basta’s scars if she wanted to spare him of Basta’s wrath upon him. Or herself. 

She always wondered why he was so obsessed with keeping long sleeves, even on hot days or when suffering a fever. She suspected he hid them out of shame. As much as she dispised this man, she couldn’t let him be exposed like this. It didn’t match her work ethics. Also, she wanted to live for a little bit longer. She scrambled out a shirt of Basta’s drawer and put it on him, which wasn’t an easy task considering he was limp as a bag of potatoes, but she managed just in time for the boy to return and knocking on the front door downstairs.

She let him in and took her emergency backpack. 

“Mortola saw me and asked what all the fuzz was about.”

“What did you tell her?” Zera asked as he was following her upstairs.

“That there was an emergency at Basta’s house. She said she’ll send over some of the men.”

“I don’t need any help from those brutes.”

“I don’t think she meant to send help but someone to guard you.”

“Sounds more likely. Go back downstairs and don’t let anyone come inside. I need peace and quiet if I don’t want to do any mistakes.”

“Is Basta alright?” the boy asked usure.

“Not yet. He will be once I’ve found out what happened to him in the first place. Now go, will you? Let me work in peace.”

The boy seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation and went downstairs without any more questions or protests.

When Zera entered the bedroom, Basta was back at whimpering. He was shaking too, but not like he was having a seizure. It was as if he was cold. Or scared.

Zera started to work, followed emergency protocol, took his vitals, checked his consciousness, but nothing indicated a bodily dysfunction. 

Could it be, that he was having a mental crisis? There was no way of finding out until he was able to talk to her, so she put him on an IV and gave him some medication to stabilize him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I know, I’m evil for leaving a cliffhanger, but I didn’t know whether it was worth the effort to finish the story, so let’s see how this is being receicved, if you guys somewhat enjoyed this silly story (honestly, I didn’t put much thought into it, I just wrote down what came to mind, I won’t even proof read it so there might be some mistakes, sorry for that but I planned on returning to study for uni like, 2 hours ago, soo...

(also, sorry for not having replied to any of your other messages yet, initially, I didn’t want to think too much about Basta until I passed all my exams at university because that man occupies my head too much and prevents me from thinking straight BUT when I read that headcanon, I couldn’t stop the imagine from flowing, so I had to write it down -_-)

[chibi-tsukiko]

Takashi’s Holiday Party 🎄

part 2 of 3

Takashi drags Ryuji to do some Christmas shopping…let’s see how it goes.

“Aren’t you finished yet?” Ryuji groans.

“Just one more stop,” Takashi says, ushering him along.

“You said that four stops ago,” the soldier complains, readjusting his scarf. “Can you at least hurry it up? It’s freezing.”

“Aw come on, Ryuji, where’s your Christmas spirit?”

“Frozen. Like the rest of me,” he deadpans, but his friend only laughs and continues walking down the icy sidewalk.

It’s only four in the afternoon, but the sun is already setting. The holiday decorations that border the shops begin to turn on, illuminating the street in hues of red and green. Other busy shoppers weave in and out of the crowded stores and tents that line the walkway, bags and boxes rustling as they walk. Business owners market off the season by playing songs to keep the customers in good spirits. The same ones describe the most wonderful time of the year, but the only one Ryuji can relate to is the one about a fuzzy grump named Grinch. It’s not that he hates the season, it’s that it’s never been anything special for him. Every Christmas, he’d watch the other kids from the boarding school go home to their families while he stayed behind. Even the teachers had family and friends to go home to, but there wasn’t anyone at home who wanted him, so there never was a Christmas. This is the first year he’s going to be spending it with friends and he feels like a fish trying to walk on land.

“What are you even looking for?” He asks as they round another corner. “I thought Astraea had already handled all the decorations.”

“She has,” Takashi confirms, “but this is something special.”

Ryuji rolls his eyes, but continues following his friend.

“What more could you need for this party? Astraea is handling the decorations, you said Hein was helping with food, and Uma even agreed to work the bar. What else is there?”

“I told you, it’s something special,” Takashi insists. “You’re not going to find it in a commercial chain, but one of these little shops should have it.”

“I hope you find it before we freeze to death.”

“You’re such a positive presence to have Ryuji. I don’t think I tell you that enough.” Takashi comments sarcastically.

“You’re the one who asked me to come along,” Ryuji shrugs.

“Why do you keep saying ‘yes’ then if you’re going to be so miserable?”

“I ask myself that every time. Maybe I’m a masochist.”

“I’ll be sure to let Ishida know,” Takashi laughs and Ryuji pushes him.

The two keep walking down, stopping to peek through the window of each shop while Takashi searches for the last special mystery item. Ryuji is ready to tell the shorter man to call it quits, when he stops in the middle of the sidewalk.

“There! In here!” Takashi exclaims, rushing into the store.

Ryuji follows, ducking his head as to not hit the garland hanging in the doorway. The shop is a chaotic explosion of Christmas. Decorations covered with glitter and statutes of an overweight man in a red suit crowd every shelf. There’s a suffocating aroma of cinnamon and evergreen that makes him gag so he pulls the scarf up over his face to block it out. Takashi makes his way to the corner of the store by the front window where an assortment of pinecones and evergreen branches are displayed. In a small basket is a plant with flat rounded leaves and white berries tied together with a red ribbon.

“Mistletoe?” Ryuji asks.

“Yup!” Takashi confirms, grabbing a handful of mistletoe bouquets.

“Why do you need mistletoe?”

Takashi turns to Ryuji, a curious look on his face, “What do you mean, why do I need mistletoe?”

Ryuji arches an eyebrow.

“You know what mistletoe is, don’t you?”

“An overpriced plant?”

Takashi rolls his eyes, “No. It’s one of the best Christmas traditions ever!”

“How is a plant that told women if they refused to kiss the man standing under it, it meant they would never get married, a good tradition?”

“Ok, it doesn’t have those kind of sexist undertones anymore,” Takashi tells him. “The idea is that if you stand under it with someone you love and accept the kiss, it’ll ensure you’ll be together the following Christmas. It’s romantic!”

“If you say so,” Ryuji shrugs.

“I do say so, I mean hello— free kisses?! Yes please!” Takashi grins, picking up more mistletoe from the basket.

“Why do you need these for your holiday party? Isn’t it a work thing?”

“It is, and these aren’t for the party, these are for my house.”

“Why do you need so many?”

“To increase my chances of getting free kisses from Hein! It’s not rocket science here, Ryuji. I’m a simple man with simple needs.”

“Who’s simple minded.” Ryuji finishes, dogging Takashi’s hand when he moves to swat him with the berry branches.

“Do you wanna get one?”

“What for?”

“For Ishida! Have I taught you nothing?”

Ryuji quirks an eyebrow.

“You’re hopeless. Hopeless.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“How can you say that? It’s your first Christmas together. Your first official Christmas, don’t you want it to be special?”

“I mean, sure, but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know. I’m not good at the whole romance thing,” Ryuji says. “I’m not you.”

“Well, no,” Takashi agrees, “we can’t all be the master, but you’ll do fine! Ishida’s crazy about you so,” he puts his hand on Ryuji’s shoulder, “don’t overthink it.” He turns towards the checkout counter, but stops short and turns back around, “and grab some mistletoe. Free kisses!”

Ryuji watches his friend make his way to the checkout counter. He’s not sure what makes a holiday special or what he could possibly do to show Ishida just how much he means to him. How does the Ocean repay the Moon for controlling its tides? He doesn’t think any gift or gesture would even come close, but maybe he’s just overthinking it like always. So he grabs a branch of the silly Christmas tradition and heads towards the checkout counter.

Tag list : @littleturtle95 @phoenix-and-dragon @khaleesiofalicante @my-archerboy @clumsyowl-in-a-fandom @radisv @raziyekroos @magnus-the-maqnificent @spotsandclawsthings @sassybookworm2020 @shadowhuntingdemigod-blog @elettralightwood @high-warlock-of-brooklyn

[heartbeat-eras]

Ok - Lets do this shall we? And coz it's me and I find the reactions of my heart interesting I recorded her while doing this.

1. What is your earliest heart related memory that made you feel funny/fuzzy/flustered? My first memory was hearing my mums heartbeat and asking her what it was. I was like 2 or 3. But my first flustered moment was probably in school when there was a song with hand actions and the word "heart" in it. I never could place my hand in the centre of my chest so I did it to the left. One of the girls saw and was like "no - your heart isn't there , it's here" and put her hand directly on the centre of my chest. I was so mortified.

2. When intimating the sound of a heartbeat, how do you do it? Are you a lub-dub, thump-thump, etc person? Or something else? Lub-Dub

3. What’s your favourite auscultation point? Coz Y'all kept pointing out my split, Pulm has become mine. It was Tri before but now I will default to Pulm / Erbs as I love that sound.

4. What’s your ultimate SFW cardiophilia related fantasy? Probably just having someone examine my whole heart with a 12 lead and echo just because I'm curious. Doing a stress test version too would be dope.

5. And what about your ultimate NSFW one? (Feel free to skip this!) - Umm that's hard coz I haven't really dabbled to know what I like but maybe the above pushing my heart too far and needing medical help to correct it.. or start it again... I'm not sure...

6. Do you prefer to listen to be listened to? A bit of both, however whenever I imagine the above situations I am always the patient / being listened to. *Shrugs

7. Have you ever had an awkward moment at a doctor’s appointment? Not heart related. I usually focus so much to bring her down that she's beating "calmly" for any heart or heart adjacent exams.

8. How about any “oh shit, have they clocked that I’m into this?” moment with strangers, acquaintances, friends or family? When going through my room my parents found my steth... it was never brought up. And back in Myspace (showing my age here) days I did a quiz like this and it asked "What's your fav sound" which I said - Heartbeats - Someone replied saying something like - yeah they are the best sound in the world... I got scared and deleted the post.

9. What’s your most recent heart related experience that gives you the warm fuzzies (in a wholesome, SFW way?) When I was having an anxious day, one of my close friends shared so when I was at work I had a body double and didn't feel alone. He shared for 7 hours like it was nothing but it meant so much to me.

10. What about in a NSFW way? (Again, feel free to skip this!) - Gonna skip this as I don't really have one.

11. Do you love or loathe the effect that caffeine has on your heart (if you drink it)? Used to love it. Now I can't drink caffeine on medication so loathe?

12. Do you own a watch that tracks your heart rate? Apple watch - but I forget to charge it all the time. I also had to turn off high heart rate notifications as she regularly goes over 100 with stimulants and it was annoying me

13. How about any other equipment (e.g. a steth, blood pressure machine, stemoscope, pulse oximeter, etc)? 2 X Steth (the purple littmann Classic and a Kincare Cardiology (which was my one and only for ever), Blood Pressure monitor I got when i started meds, spoilers i forget to do it. whoops, 3 lead ECG, Stemoscope. Polar HRM.. I think that's it.

14. Do you prefer listening to a fast or slow heart rate? Slow mostly because they are calming and you can hear what they are actually doing. But I don't hate fast ones.

15. Do you prefer having a slow or fast heart rate? Slow, she used to be so slow and now she's fast most of the time.. I miss the calm.

16. Have you ever done anything to purposely make your heart rate speed up or slow down? If so, what? Exercise.... coffee... in my 20's I tried poppers and weed. I don't anymore. Breath holds... I just can't pressure coz that s*** hurts lol

17. Have you ever stethed someone or taken their pulse outside of a medical scenario? lol - no.. well with my friend when he was training to be a nurse but I count that as medical scenario.

18. Has anyone done the above to you outside of a medical scenario? Same as above

19. Do you tend to hear “are you nervous?” or similar things from doctors because your heart is always beating so fast when they steth you? Do you have white coat syndrome? I always try to calm my heart when I know it's about to be checked in some way so no.

20. Have you ever complimented a medical professional on their steth? .. No.

21. Has a medical professional ever expressed curiosity about your knowledge of hearts after you've mentioned something that a typical patient wouldn't know? Lol I go the other way and pretend I know less so as not to be caught out.

22. Have you ever told anyone in real life about your interest in hearts? Nooooooo.

23. What’s your favourite heart related lyric in a song, or favourite song that gives off cardiophile vibes? Like any Taylor Swift song....

I can't find a pulse My heart won't start anymore for you 'Cause you're losin' me

orrr

'Til we were dead and gone and buried Check the pulse and come back swearing it's the same After three months in the grave

24. Has anyone ever caught you listening to heart audios, stething yourself, etc? If so, how did you explain yourself? Nope - not yet

25. Do you have a nickname for your heart? Well I always referred to my heart as She or Her. When I joined here someone asked for my name and as I was doing this anonymous to allow me to feel comfortable to post I had to come up with a name. First name that came to mind was Anna. I don't know why. But as people called me it more, by the time I gave my name to the first person I was like - "I feel like she has her own personality and is an extension of me. And I think Anna suits her". So I call her Anna which has worked really when talking about her reaction separate to me... if that makes sense.

26. Have you ever had an ECG/echo/stress test, etc? 12 lead ecg for my meds - anti climactic as I never saw it coz i was too freaked out at the time and it was just a cautionary thing.

27. What’s the ultimate comment that someone can make about your heart to fluster you? Probably just making comments about how she's currently beating.. she's pretty reactive so anything does it.

28. Do you struggle to say the words “heart”, “heartbeat”, etc aloud? OMG yes. But i've forced myself to use them so it's easier now. But there are times I will go to say it and have to pause before pushing it out.

29. What’s your favourite pulse point on yourself? How about on others? Radial all round. Carotid is just too life and death (think hospitals and greys anatomy). radial is just convenient and inconspicuous

30. Has anyone ever commented on your heartbeat or pulse being visible? No. She's a bit delicate and not visible that im aware of...

OMG that took 45 mins. hahaha - did any of the questions make her race? where there any more that weren't there that you MUST know?

Cardiophiles, reblog with your answers so your followers can get to know you! ♡

There are 30 questions, more below the cut!

1. What is your earliest heart related memory that made you feel funny/fuzzy/flustered?

2. When intimating the sound of a heartbeat, how do you do it? Are you a lub-dub, thump-thump, etc person? Or something else?

3. What’s your favourite auscultation point?

4. What’s your ultimate SFW cardiophilia related fantasy?

5. And what about your ultimate NSFW one? (Feel free to skip this!)

6. Do you prefer to listen to be listened to?

7. Have you ever had an awkward moment at a doctor’s appointment?

8. How about any “oh shit, have they clocked that I’m into this?” moment with strangers, acquaintances, friends or family?

9. What’s your most recent heart related experience that gives you the warm fuzzies (in a wholesome, SFW way?)

10. What about in a NSFW way? (Again, feel free to skip this!)

11. Do you love or loathe the effect that caffeine has on your heart (if you drink it)?

12. Do you own a watch that tracks your heart rate?

13. How about any other equipment (e.g. a steth, blood pressure machine, stemoscope, pulse oximeter, etc)?

14. Do you prefer listening to a fast or slow heart rate?

15. Do you prefer having a slow or fast heart rate?

16. Have you ever done anything to purposely make your heart rate speed up or slow down? If so, what?

17. Have you ever stethed someone or taken their pulse outside of a medical scenario?

18. Has anyone done the above to you outside of a medical scenario?

19. Do you tend to hear “are you nervous?” or similar things from doctors because your heart is always beating so fast when they steth you? Do you have white coat syndrome?

20. Have you ever complimented a medical professional on their steth?

21. Has a medical professional ever expressed curiosity about your knowledge of hearts after you've mentioned something that a typical patient wouldn't know?

22. Have you ever told anyone in real life about your interest in hearts?

23. What’s your favourite heart related lyric in a song, or favourite song that gives off cardiophile vibes?

24. Has anyone ever caught you listening to heart audios, stething yourself, etc? If so, how did you explain yourself?

25. Do you have a nickname for your heart?

26. Have you ever had an ECG/echo/stress test, etc?

27. What’s the ultimate comment that someone can make about your heart to fluster you?

28. Do you struggle to say the words “heart”, “heartbeat”, etc aloud?

29. What’s your favourite pulse point on yourself? How about on others?

30. Has anyone ever commented on your heartbeat or pulse being visible?

[lyssahlyssah]

Obey Me! Lucifer's Dream

a/n: This is a piece for the lead-up to Kinktober. I wanted to bring the unevolved, evil, and dangerous Lucifer out in a safe environment where no one actually ends up getting hurt. The timeframe is just after MC arrives in the devildom and meets everyone, but hasn't had time to get close and develop relationships. Thanks to @theinariakuma for beta-ing.

Trigger warnings: fantasy violence, implied fantasy murder, implied fantasy rape, sadism, anger, dark themes.

Pairing: F!MC x Lucifer

Category: not suitable for work, dark fantasy

//

Midnight rolled around again and Lucifer rubbed his temples with gloved fingers. With no sun, day and night had little meaning here, but even so, he had been awake for five straight days, a full two days longer than his normal and it was starting to show.

Irritably, he signed his name to the latest document in front of him and with a scowl, snapped the pen in two between his fingers. I mean, how much was a demon supposed to take?

First, there was helping Diavolo with his extra paperwork since Barbatos was on vacation, then overseeing the RAD student council... Mammon playing the fool... and now babysitting the new human exchange student. The last one took an enormous amount of his resources because she was just so damn fragile. He was always having to watch over her, keep lesser demons from devouring her, creating special education for her, and most of all, controlling his own temper so he wouldn't kill or frighten her. She obviously didn't belong here, but Diavolo was firm with his instructions regarding the human, she was to be treated as gently as if she was back in her own world.

He scoffed, irritation sliding into anger. Something about interworld relations. Really, who cares at all about that. If his time in the Celestial Realm had taught him anything, it was that humans were weak, unworthy of his time, and invited trouble. Trouble was already something they had plenty of, thanks to Mammon.

And he certainly didn't care about maintaining relations with the Celestial Realm, he didn't want to see another angel for the rest of his life.

He resented the extra intrusion on his time. Solomon was a different story, he could take care of himself and required very little attention, and as far as Lucifer cared, could stay as long as he liked, so long as he didn't try to cook.

Uninvited, her face floated into his mind and he angrily stuffed the thought away. MC... What kind of a name is MC anyway, he thought.

He got up and walked to the piano, sitting down in front of the keys, hoping some music could help clear and calm his head. Playing a few bars of his favorite composer, De La Lordo, he closed his eyes and leaned into the music. However, his anger continued to throb and as it did so, his fingers tripped over one another causing a shriek of dissonance that cut through the silence of his office like a knife.

Irritation exploding, he slammed down the lid to the keys. Even his favorite classical music couldn't cool him down. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw HER face. HER body. HER skin. He didn't understand. He was the chosen one of his father's creations, the strongest, the most beautiful, the most talented, the most intelligent. His burgeoning attraction to something so unremarkable sent waves of revulsion and confusion tumbling through him.

Unable to control his anger and disgust, he rampaged through his office; and only after his curtains and furniture were hanging in shreds with several new vase-shaped holes in the walls did he finally sit down hard in the armchair by his fireplace, leather creaking to accommodate his weight. He hadn't lost his temper like this for a long time, but he knew his brothers wouldn't dare approach his door after hearing his wrath. Spent, he pushed his sweaty hair out of his face and leaned his head back against the soft surface, eyes closing.

...squeals in the dark.

Everything was fuzzy. He shook his head roughly to clear it, but the cloudiness stubbornly held on. Hazily, he pushed through long-limbed bushes that grasped at his hair and clothes into a woody clearing and there she was. Small, perfect, tearful eyes wide, gag tightening into the sides of her mouth, hands tied in front of her. She's naked. A fire to one side, casting flickering shadows that danced across her terrified face.

His heart started to race and his breathing quickened. This is a dream, he thought.

Touching his tongue to his upper lip, and then dragging it across the top of his lower teeth, he continued to watch her struggle. He felt dark urges bubbling up within him...he wanted to hurt her. Use her. Feed off her fear. The longer he watched, the stronger the urges became.

His fingers curled up in tight fists at his side. How good it would feel to let go...stop controlling himself for once. Stop doing what everyone expected of him. Just be free. Free to hate. Free to rage. Free to destroy.

The passion was too intoxicating to resist. With eyes closed, he let the anger take him. Roaring, he exploded into fire, white-hot flames threatening to sear his bones to ash. His handsome face melted into a horrific ghastly caricature of its former self. Pain as blackened wing tips burst through the taut skin of his back leaving bloody and ragged holes around them, pain as one curled horn ground its way free of the top of his head, then the other. Pain as his bones stretched to make him larger, thicker, new muscles pulsating with power. Pain as his claws burst from his fingertips impaling themselves on his palms as he ground his fists with rage.

All was pain and he drank it in like a man dying of thirst. His transformation complete, he throbbed with energy, heat, and rage.

The poor girl had yet to see him emerge from the darkness, but emerge he did, at last, a red glow upon the ground and an earth-shaking tremor heralding his arrival. Her already widened eyes, bulged from their sockets. Too scared to make a noise, strangled whimpers were all that emerged from around the gag.

Standing tall in all his terrible glory before her, her fear increases his desire.

He frees himself from his pants and masturbates furiously. He can't remember how long it's been since he touched himself like this, with an anger and intent. Or at all, for that matter. Passion had all but dried up for him after his fall from grace. Life had become controlling his brothers and the mundane of Diavolo's paperwork. It felt good just to feel anything again.

Sadistically, he chuckled lowly. His beautiful, terrible eyes narrowing, he lets loose his enormous hard cock, where it hangs heavily erect against his leg, waiting. Her eyes follow its movements and he revels in her horror. She knows what's going to happen and that she has absolutely no way to stop it.

Even through her fear and almost as a betrayal to herself, she can't help but feel a supernatural attraction to him, his power, his beauty. He can sense it as well, and it increases his contempt for her.

It's only too easy, he thinks arrogantly. She can't help but want me, even like this. I can smell it all over her. She wants to get fucked by a monster.

It confirms all of his previously-held beliefs that humans are inferior. He sneers, face contorting. Pitiful. So weak...so insignificant. Utterly disposable.

That last thought ignited his lust to new levels. Here was a toy he could abuse with no repercussions to his conscience. She wasn't worth consideration or care. Since she was beneath his respect, he could be himself completely.

Dark excitement pushing him forward, he took a quick step towards her, and she cringed backward against her restraints, desperate to flee.

He smiles. "It's no use trying to escape, little one," he said cruelly, his soft words contradicted by his harsh tone."Escape doesn't exist for you anymore. You're mine. "

Her screams echo throughout the woods, full of terror and ecstasy.

Hours later, the screams fade as a long howl rises. The girl's mangled body lies still on the ground, every orifice stuffed full and dripping, blood on the ground. Her face is quiet, eyes glassy with rapture, expression frozen in terror. He'd never seen anything so beautiful.

His violence finally sated, Lucifer stands with his bloody cock dripping, drenched in sweat and other fluids, parts of himself slipping back into human form. An unexpected warm rush fills him as he looks at her, and impulsively, he leans down and tenderly kisses her cooling cheek.

At the touch of her flesh, his eyes open and he is back in his office chair. His grandfather clock lets him know morning has come.

The chair lies in ruins around his outline, he had transformed outside of his dream as well. He shifts in the chair and his pants catch against him uncomfortably, sticky, full of his cum several times over. He feels an overwhelming sense of release, of a long-overdue itch scratched, a boiling tea kettle that has let off its steam. Feeling powerful and confident, he rises to clean himself and get ready for the day.

Later

"Once again, Lucifer will be providing you with your lessons and general protection this week," Diavolo said conversationally to the girl. All three of them were sitting in Diavolo's office, sipping tea kept at the perfect temperature by Barbatos's careful attentions. The girl hesitantly looked over her teacup towards Lucifer, remembering the handsome demon's obvious irritation the week before.

"I'm at your command," Lucifer said silkily, cooly polite. He showed none of the irritation from before, and in fact...looked perfectly content with his extra duties.

For a second, she thought she heard something odd in his tone...what, she wasn't sure.

She glanced his way again, and shivered as she saw he was watching her...a faint smile on his lips, red eyes glowing.

[junko-and-riri-domain]

˚₊·˚ “babes” | ot7 ˚₊·˚

↬ pairing: ot7 x reader ↬ genre: fluff | drabbles | scenarios  ↬ warnings: none ↬ w/c: 1.3k ↬ requested by: 🤍 ↬ request was: Hihii I was wondering if you could do enhypens reaction to calling them things like baby or my love in your native language (excluding English and Korean) ↬ a/n (a few things !!)

since i clearly don’t what “my love” in everyone’s native language “babes” is the place holder word and you can imagine it as whatever “my love / love” is in your language !! also i haven’t done an ot7 post in a while so these might be kinda bad and lowkey might not make any sense 💔

also, the 500 followers event is closed (unless you decide to send one in tonight then i’ll still write it 👀 !! ) but somehow we hit 800 followers today !! how this blog managed to get like 200 followers while i was ia is beyond me 😭

but thank you everyone 🥺 i’ll be writing requests from the 500 followers throughout the week and responding to asks as well <33 

˚₊·˚♤˚· lee heeseung ˚₊·˚♤˚·

late one night you and hee are laying in bed, unable to sleep so you ask him,

“babes, wanna eat some ramen?” he’s like yes, ramen !! but wait,

“babes?” he asks. “isn’t that fish in russian?” (like that whole “te amo” means “i love you” in tagalog / filipino even though it actually means ‘i love you’ in spanish. but yeah, he’d probably think it was something completely different in another language lmao) once you realized what you just called him you tell him,

“it doesn’t mean fish, it means love in [insert your language].” the dots connect in his head and all of a sudden,

“i babes you,” you hear. you can’t help but smile at him and laugh a little because,

“that’s not how the grammar works, but at least you tried.” from then on if he wanted something from you he’d do aegyo and would say.

“babes, please !!”

˚₊·˚✎˚·  park jongseong / jay | self indulgent jay mini fic somewhat related to this req ˚₊·˚✎˚· 

you’re chilling with jay one day and all of a sudden,

“hey, babes can you hand me the remote?” you ask. suddenly he’s frozen in place, looking at you like,

“did you just call me love in [insert your language]?” you look at him, slightly tilting your head to the side and you’re all like,

“huh, i guess i did.” in his head, his mind is going crazy because what ?? you l-word him ?? but then you’re just like,

“wait, how do you know what that word means?” and then he gets all flustered and begins to ramble.

“i went on a YouTube spiral at four am, and, uh… uhh… yeah, i just heard it. it sounded unique so i sorta just remembered.”

“when?”

“like, a few weeks ago.”

“what were you watching?”

“the basics to [insert your language] 101.” you’re shocked but not really since jay is basically a language genius. but now your heart feels all fuzzy and warm because he’s learning your language.

˚₊·˚ ✁˚· sim jaeyun / jake ˚₊·˚ ✁˚·

if anything, you probably didn’t call him babes first. why? because you said it to layla. you stopped by jake’s place before the both of you went to your parent’s place. since you haven’t seen layla in a while, she instantly captured your attention (like she so rightfully deserves).

“babes, i missed you!” you say as you smile while petting her and seeing her tail wag in happiness. jake looks at the sight of the two loves of his life and can’t stop the way his heart flutters a little. he doesn’t want to ruin the moment but he wants your attention so he ends up sort of sitting on the ground next to layla and peeks up at you with wide eyes and a smile.

“babes?” he asked. you end up also sitting on the floor, layla settling onto your lap,

“it means love in [insert your language].” he frowns,

“you said you love layla before saying you love me?”

“who says i love you?” he gets kind of pouty because he knows that you love but he wants to hear it. some time passes and when you’re at your parent’s house, you’re talking to them and you tell them in [insert your language],

“i love jake.” he hears the word and his name in the same sentence. so he takes a chance and using the same sentence you said but with your name he says,

“i love ___.”

˚₊·˚ ❆˚· park sunghoon ˚₊·˚ ❆˚··

it probably slipped out in a moment of panic while the two of you were ice skating. sometimes you slipped into [insert your language] due to a surge of various emotions, sometimes anger, fear, or frustration. sunghoon had asked if you wanted to go on a date to the new rink that just opened and you said yes because ice skating with hoon, how could you miss the opportunity ?? he was holding your hand and skating to your pace trying to teach you how to ice skate. but somewhere down the line, he ended up letting go without you realizing it (like when you ride a bike and the person behind you holding the bike lets go !!) so you turn around, eyes wide at the distance between you and sunghoon and you’re like,

“YAH, BABES YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T LET GO,” and all of a sudden you lose your balance. thankfully, sunghoon being the great skater that he is manages to get to you and holds so you so that you don’t fall. you’re clutching onto his jacket, trying to catch your breath, “i hate you,” you mutter. he smiles as he moves your hair to get out of your face,

“yeah, keep telling yourself that. wait? what does babes mean?” he asks.

“it means love in [insert your language].” suddenly, ice king composure melts. heart going a hundred miles a minute. mind is all like wait what? he accidentally loses his footing and balance, falling while taking you down with him but you’re fine since you landed on top of him.

“are you ok, babes?” he asks to at least try and keep some cool because even though you’re in an ice skating rink, it suddenly feels as if things just got a hundred degrees hotter.

˚₊·˚❂˚· kim sunoo ˚₊·˚❂˚·

he had been interested in learning about your language and culture, mostly for the food… but a+ for effort, right? he would often ask you, “what does this mean?” “what does that mean?” that kind of stuff, since he was genuinely curious. he picked up a few words here and there, occasionally using a word that he knew in a sentence while talking to you. your family asked you to bring him over for a family gathering / party situation sometimes it felt like they liked him more than you. you were sitting down with a plate of food,

“babes, can you hand me a napkin?” suddenly, your and sunoo’s ears are filled with the sounds of “OOO” and your family begins teasing you. to yourself, you’re just like, did i really just call sunoo… but when you look at sunoo his smile is the widest it’s ever been

“you called me love, matji, matji?” (matji meaning like “right” in korean, idk it just felt right to spell that out here ok anyways)

“how did… how did you know?” and he does that thing where he kind of giggles,

“you just confirmed it!”

˚₊·˚✧˚· yang jungwon ˚₊·˚✧˚·

one night jungwon was dropping you off to the front of your doorstep to make sure you got home safe and sound. you were trying to be cute and said,

“saramhae” (saram means person in korean, but what you really meant to say was, “saranghae” which means i love you in korean). jungwon then does that thing where he smirks at you, tilting his head slightly, and he says,

“nado saramhae, babes.” (so like “i love you too, [love in insert your language]” but it’s saramhae because that’s what you said at first) but then,

“babes?” you ask. he plays it off by saying,

“i’m the leader, i need to learn how to communicate in different languages for engenes.” but really it’s just secret language learner pt. 2 exposed.

˚₊·˚⍢˚· nishimura riki / ni-ki ˚₊·˚⍢˚·

ni-ki’s head was on your lap, eyes closed since he was taking a nap and decided your lap was the best thing to claim as his pillow. you needed to get up so to wake him, you poked his cheeks,

“ni-ki,” you said. nothing.

“riki-ah?” this time as more of a question while lightly patting his hair. also nothing.

“babes, if you don’t wake up i’m gonna shove you off my lap.” suddenly, his eyes open and he looks up at you which causes you to jump back in your seat slightly.

“bae-ehbs?” he asks, trying to sound out the word.

“uh huh.”

“wait doesn’t that mean, love?”

“no… it means pabo,” you reply playfully. (pabo meaning like dum dum / stupid in korean, but it’s not meant to sound offensive here !!)

“no it means ‘love’ jay hyung told me about that word when i started dating you.”

“well, if you knew then why’d you ask?”

“wait, so it actually does mean love?”

“you just said jay told you!”

“yeah but i didn’t believe him.” at the confirmation of the word’s true meaning, he feels happy and kind of giddy at the new name he’s earned for himself from you. like heeseung, he’d use it to get something that he wants from you but instead of aegyo it’s more like teasing.

↬ a/n pt. 2 + semi tmi: i speak two languages and i suck at both, english and my parent’s native language. two & a quarter if you count the bare minimum of spanish i learned from taking it during the first two years of high school and the few words of korean i picked up from kdramas lmao 😭

❦ written by riri ( @enhykkul​ ) | blog masterlist | blog navigation

↬ tagging: @bloom-bloom-pow​ | @markleepooh​ | @sunshineshouchan​ (permanent taglist is open if anyone wants to be in it !!)

[luminnara]

Goddamn, Shit-Sucking Vampires | lost boys x oc 18+ ONLY | Ch 3

Summary: Vera is an unusually vicious bloodsucker who's never stuck in one place for very long...until a mysterious feeling pulls her right to the murder capital of the world: Santa Carla, California. Now, she needs to figure out why exactly she's there, where she fits in amongst the boardwalk's nighttime denizens, and how to cope with her own personal vampire-related problems.

Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Taglist: @ilikechocolatemilkh​

Warnings: smutty smut, language, blood

“Hello, darling.”

He had been quick to take her lips with his, kissing her hungrily as she moved to straddle his lap. Before they could get too comfortable, he stood, carrying her in the direction the others had gone but stopping in a room along the way. It had been a hotel room once, a bed covered in silks like the ones from the main cavern still sitting in the middle. 

He tossed her down onto it, watching as she stretched out on her back languidly. She was so inviting. A low rumble rose in his chest as he took his coat off, leaving it on the floor with his boots and gloves. All he could pay attention to was her bare midriff and those exposed thighs, her crop top and short shorts barely leaving anything to his imagination. She sat up and shrugged her vest off, throwing it to the floor as she held eye contact with him. She was smiling the way someone did when they were keeping a juicy secret, a glint of something in her eyes as she leaned forward. 

“David,” she purred, beckoning for him with her fingers. “Come and take care of me.”

He happily crossed the space between them, crawling over her until he could kiss her again. Her hands slid up his forearms, feeling his cool skin and the muscles underneath it. He pushed her back down and she complied, biting sharply at her bottom lip.

“I want you, Vera,” he growled, sending warmth spreading through her core. 

She moaned, hands moving to his waist, slipping under his shirt. “Then take me.”

He couldn’t help himself. His hips met hers, his arousal grinding against her. He wanted her to feel what she did to him, to have some tiny inkling of what it was like to see and smell and feel her. 

“You do horrible things to me,” he breathed.

Her nails were sharp against his skin as she lightly scratched down his sides. “You can handle it.”

Chills ran down his spine and he laughed, the little grumble returning to his chest as he pinned her against the bed with his weight. “You’re mine.”

Vera watched as his face vamped out, eyes blazing yellow-orange as he snarled above her. She shivered in delight, a smile on her lips as his claws tore through her shirt and raked down her belly, ugly red marks fading almost as quickly as they appeared.

“You like it rough?” She teased, moving her knees to either side of his hips. 

With a playful snarl, he bit at her collarbone, earning a squeal. “I like it however I want.”

Vera gave a little growl and reached for his pants, tugging them open and slipping her hand in to feel him. His breathing grew heavier as he pressed his hips against her touch, desperately searching for more contact. 

“A little eager, aren’t we?” She teased, giving him a squeeze. 

“I can smell how wet you are,” his voice was husky, hand trailing down to reach her shorts. “Do you want something?”

She whined as he ripped her clothing, but she couldn’t be angry with him on top of her, nor could she be angry when he was pushing a finger inside of her. She let out the most delicious noise David had ever heard, her back arching as he pressed up into her. It had been long, far too long since she had had this.

“What was that?” He asked, twisting his hand.

She did it again, but louder, and he decided it was his favorite thing in the entire world. 

“You’re awful,” she gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer. 

He smirked as he explored her, feeling wherever he pleased, playing with her as she moaned and squealed on top of the sheets. He learned what spots made her make which noises, and he watched as she snarled and sneered and taunted him. She was feisty, clawing at him as she urged him to get on with it, reaching up to kiss him whenever she had the ability to do so. 

It wasn’t until he made her orgasm that she vamped out, but when she did, she really did. She hissed and growled at him, becoming a wildcat that he was more than happy to subdue. He was losing control of himself as it was, chest heaving as he looked down at the most beautiful sight he had ever had the privilege of seeing. The swell of her breasts, the welts that formed and quickly disappeared whenever he bit at her boobs, the creamy, soft, gorgeous skin that he wanted to kiss and suck and maul all at the same time...it was perfect, and so was her muscular stomach, toned by so many years of being an apex predator, and so was her thick ass, and her thighs, and…

All of her. 

When he kicked his pants off and finally got to hear her cry his name, he thought he was going to lose it then and there. She felt perfect, clinging to him with her nails in his back and her fangs in his shoulder as she sobbed and snarled against his skin. She writhed beneath him, twisting and constantly trying to flip them so that she could top him. Whenever he felt her tense up as if she was about to, he would thrust into her harder, making her forget that she ever wanted to be anywhere but underneath her new mate. 

Until he finally relented and let her twist her hips, and then he realized he was absolutely fine with letting her call the shots.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” She crooned, leaning down to kiss him. Her voice was raspy when she was fully vamped out, a monstrous, snarly, beautifully sweet kind of voice that mesmerized David and left him in a haze. 

He only grunted in response, hands gripping her hips as she rode him. His eyes were glued to her as he took in the way she looked, her black hair a mess, her generous, perfect breasts bouncing slightly. He slid his hands up to cup them, squeezing and kneading and grinning when she bit her lip.

Blood ran down her chin, dripping down onto David’s chest. When he pulled her down to kiss her and get a taste, he bit her sharply, grinning when she squealed. She was funny, and delightful, and beautiful, and he had never felt that way about any girl he had fucked. There were beautiful ones, yes, but none like her. No one that he wanted to keep around. 

He knew it was all because of his hormones, ancient vampire instincts that were urging him to make Vera his and impress her enough that she stayed. He didn’t know why he was so concerned with what she thought, especially because she seemed pretty content, based on her whines and moans, but he had the need to do everything in his power to show that he was worthy of her time. 

They rolled again, David still sucking at Vera’s lip. She resisted a tiny bit, stubbornly locking her hips and thighs in an attempt to brace herself against him, but as he rolled his hips forward, she relaxed into a puddle of happy moans. When he felt her nails digging into his back, he knew she was close, and he was more than happy to suck at her neck while she said his name over and over and over. 

He buried himself deep into her when he finally came, grunting and whispering “Fuck, Vera…” in her ear until he finished and pulled back, panting as he looked down at her. She was a mess, black hair splayed across the bed, blood running from her lip and throat. 

With a smirk, David hooked his hand under her knee and brought it up for him to kiss, leaning his head against it as he watched her. “You’re beautiful.”

She opened her eyes, smiling and showing her bloody teeth. “Come here, big guy.” 

David happily complied, releasing her leg and flopping down next to her. He didn’t bother looking for either of their clothes and just wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her up against him. He would have preferred to go roost with the others, but she was already dozing off in his arms, and who was he to try to make her move? 

“Vera?” He asked, deep voice rumbling as she tucked her head in his chest.

“Hm?” She grunted sleepily.

He could tell she was barely awake, and his own eyelids were drooping as he pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “Stay. Forever.”

“Mhm,” she mumbled, snuggling as close to him as she could get. 

David made a pleased sound, not unlike a purr, and busied himself by playing with her hair until he passed out, surrounded by her scent, happier than he had been in a long time. 

-0-

Paul woke up slightly warmer than usual, which was odd, considering how generally cool the sunken hotel was. His mind was heavy and fuzzy, but it felt warm, too, and when he finally forced his eyes open, he figured out why.

“Marko,” he slurred. “The hell you doin’?”

The smaller vampire only grunted and snuggled closer. 

Paul sighed, but he really didn’t mind. It wasn’t the first time he had woken up to find Marko cuddling up to him. Sometimes, if he was a little drunk or high, Paul would even initiate it. David would rarely tolerate any kind of physical closeness, but if he was in a good mood, he allowed them to roost right up next to him. Dwayne was similar, rarely starting anything, but unlike their leader, he tended to growl and complain a lot less if Marko wanted some snuggle time. 

With a yawn, Paul shook himself lightly, sleepily looking around the cave. Marko had tucked himself right up under Paul’s chin, already fast asleep again, and Dwayne was hanging nearby, arms crossed over his chest as he snored softly. David was absent, and Paul cracked a smile when he remembered why. 

He searched for David’s mind and found him still fast asleep, but...happy. He could pick up the faintest scent of sex lingering in the air and it made his mouth water, hunger pains suddenly shooting through him. His turn with Vera would be soon, but he didn’t know if he could bear the wait. 

A little growl rose in his throat. He wanted her. He hated that David got to have her first, when he deserved her more. Paul was usually a pretty relaxed guy, preferring to get high and fool around than do anything serious, but when it came to this...he was feeling oddly savage about it. He would probably never openly defy David, who always looked out for all of the boys and proved himself to be a good leader over and over, but Vera was making him anxious. The more he woke up, the more restless he grew, until he finally gave Marko a little shove and disentangled himself from his clingy brother. 

Marko whined in protest as Paul dropped to the ground, dropping down after him just seconds later. “What’s the big deal?”

“I wanna go check on our new girl, bro,” Paul said, grinning as he dusted his sleeves off. “David’s had her all to himself long enough.”

Marko followed him out into the corridor, drooling slightly as the scents of Vera and sex grew stronger and stronger. “Smells like they had fun.”

“Too much fun,” Paul growled as they stopped in the doorway. 

The bed was a mess, sheets and silks torn to shreds. The pillows had somehow survived, and the old bed frame was still holding up, and both Paul and Marko made notes to themselves to change those when they got the chance. In the midst of it all, though, was a sight that made them hum happily; Vera was curled up on her side, perfectly happy and perfectly naked, tucked safely up against David. 

“Fuck off,” he growled sleepily when he noticed them standing there.

They only inched forward, Paul daring to venture further into the room while Marko hung back behind him. “You look a little exposed there, David. Why not take a break from guarding our little chickadee to go find some pants?”

The loud snarl that tore through David’s throat was enough to wake Vera, and she squirmed and whined in protest. Paul immediately turned his attention to her, bravely crossing the room and going so far as to lean over the foot of the bed, but David’s warning grumbles were enough to keep him from touching the female. 

Vera was finally opening her eyes to take in the scene around her when David pulled her up against him. She gave a little growl and pushed him away, struggling to prop herself up on her elbow so that she could reach out to Paul. David was being selfish, and she was already getting the feeling that all four of them were going to be almost impossible to handle. 

“C’mere,” she said tiredly, smiling and cupping Paul’s cheek when he rushed forward and leaned over her. 

David huffed.

“You shush,” Vera snapped at him. 

Marko snickered as he came up behind Paul, hoping to get some of the sugar that Vera was dishing out. David let out a dramatic sigh, sitting up and pulling Vera up against his chest while she cooed and taunted Paul, talking to him as if he were a dog while he just beamed at her adoringly. 

“What a good boy you are,” she laughed as she pinched his cheeks. “Not at all snarly like that mean old David…”

Paul growled happily. If he had a tail, it would be wagging, and David rolled his eyes at the display. Instead of saying anything snarky, though, he just nipped at the back of Vera’s neck, hands sliding around her sides to rest on her belly. He was feeling mellower now that he could wrap himself around her, and when he caught Marko creeping up around Paul, he didn’t even growl. 

“And of course, poor Marko, so ignored,” Vera giggled as she pulled him forward to kiss his nose. He and Paul were practically melting over her, happy hums and purrs filling the room. 

“Good evening,” Marko said slyly as he nuzzled his cheek against Vera’s. 

“Good evening, my little cherub,” Vera cooed, kissing his nose again and smiling when he scrunched it up. He was a mischievous little thing, but she was getting the feeling that he had to have a nasty streak, too; that sweet face and excited grin were both too innocent for him not to be hiding an ugly side. 

“I’m starving,” David mumbled, leaning his chin on top of Vera’s head. Vera had almost worn him out, since she had woken up sometime in the middle of the day and demanded more from him. He had happily obliged, of course, but now he was hungry, and whenever David was hungry, David was irritated. 

“You go get food, and I’ll stay here with—“

“You’re coming too, Paul.”

“But it’s my—“

“I would love a night on the boardwalk,” Vera interrupted, detangling herself from what was becoming a puddle of happy vampires. Marko let out a little whine as she slipped past him and began searching for her clothes, but Paul managed to grab her around the waist and scoop her up, one hand on her ass, the other on her back as he held her.

“Who says you need clothes?” He growled playfully, nipping at her cheek. 

She gave a little squeak as she struggled against him. “I do!”

“I disagree,” Marko said slyly, slipping up behind her and kissing the back of her neck. 

She swatted him away, wiggling out of Paul’s grip to search the floor and find whatever clothes she could still salvage. David had ripped a fair amount of them, but he had also been kind enough to bring her small backpack in sometime during the day, so she was at least left with one outfit. 

Paul and Marko watched as she got dressed, Marko biting his thumb in an attempt to keep himself under control. She made him hungry, in a way he wasn’t used to. It wasn’t the same as bloodlust or even normal human cravings; it was something else entirely, but it still made him ache and whine and wish that he could make it go away already. 

Vera pulled on a thong and a ratty pair of denim shorts, turning her back to the boys as she grabbed a bra and a tank top. They all had a good view of the tattoos on her back, snakes winding around skulls and portraits of women that were brightly colored and beautiful. Marko wanted to trace them, with either his fingers or his tongue, he wasn’t picky. Not very many girls around Santa Carla were marked up the way she was, and all he could think of when he looked at her was how she was such a work of art.

“Finished staring?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder. 

Paul slid up next to her, an arm around her waist. “Never, dollface.”

Vera huffed but settled in against his side. “I need more clothes. You guys got any cash?”

“Now that,” Paul spun them to face David, who was pulling his coat on, “is a question for papa bear over here.”

David gave a little growl, but reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash as he strode towards them. “Anything for the lady.”

Vera reached for it but he snatched it away, shoving it back in his pocket. She gave a little growl but followed at his heels as he left the room, Marko and Paul running along behind. They collected Dwayne as he was leaving their roost, and Vera was surprised when she caught his nostrils flaring and a quiet rumble rising in his chest. David smirked at his brother, lighting a cigarette as Laddie and Star met them in the main room. 

Vera looped her arm through David’s when she saw Star, trying to remain civil. The Halfling put her off somehow, and it wasn’t just because she was so ungrateful for the offer of immortality she kept stubbornly avoiding. There was something else that was just pissing Vera off, something about the way Star moped and so clearly hated the people that gave her a safe place to sleep and protection from the rest of the world. She almost seemed dangerous, as silly as that thought was; she wasn’t physically strong enough to do anything on her own, but the fact that she was so vocal about her displeasure made Vera suspicious that she might just be capable of betrayal.

Or maybe she was just being paranoid. 

“Chin up, girl,” Paul mocked. 

Star only scowled, following them out to the bikes. She climbed on behind David when Vera strutted past her to accept Paul’s outstretched hand, grimacing but remaining silent after Vera shot her a little snarl. 

Paul and Marko hooted with laughter as Vera climbed on and sat haughtily behind the former, unable to shake the unsettling feeling that Star was giving her. There was no logical reason for it; Star was only a Halfling, hardly anything to worry about. She had a fraction of Vera’s strength and none of her survival instincts, and should they ever face off, it would be a quick fight. All of that only made Vera more uneasy, but try as she might, she couldn’t figure out why. 

“Cheer up!” Paul shouted as his bike roared to life. 

“I’ll cheer up when I’m dead,” Vera teased, leaning up to kiss the side of his neck. 

A little jolt of electricity shot through him and he whooped, the bike tearing off in the direction of the boardwalk, Marko close behind. 

-0-

“Marko, be a dear and get me a lemonade?” Vera purred, leaning forward and brushing her fingers along his jaw. 

Marko shivered but grinned, catching her hand to kiss her palm before bouncing off in the direction of the lemonade stand. 

Vera smiled and sat back, hands clasped in her lap as she watched the crowd. There really were all types in Santa Carla, and she was surprised to find that she felt like she was beginning to fit in. 

Paul threw an arm around her waist as he leaned back against the rail she sat on, a joint in his other hand. The boardwalk had little in the way of law enforcement, thanks to the Lost Boys themselves taking officers out whenever they irritated them, so Paul was left to smoke his weed in peace for the most part. “So whaddya think, babe? Enjoying the nightlife?”

“I can get used to it.” She took a deep inhale and her smile widened at all of the scents the boardwalk was offering her. “I’m starving.”

David raised an eyebrow from where he was leaning on his bike. “Already?”

“Yes,” she shot back defensively.

“We just snacked,” Paul laughed. 

“And? I only had one boy.”

“You’re insatiable.” David said with the hint of a chuckle. Honestly, he was sort of glad that she was so much hungrier than he was. He was used to feeling annoyed at himself about it, but now he could just direct all of those thoughts towards teasing her.

Vera snorted angrily. “So? Don’t you know it’s rude to comment on a lady’s eating habits?”

“Just find it strange, considering how old you are.”

She growled. “It’s also rude to comment on a lady’s age, dickweed.”

He smirked in reply and she narrowed her eyes. She could care less about the age comment, because he was right; she wasn’t a newborn, by any means. She shouldn’t have such an unquenchable thirst for blood at this point. The boys all seemed content with one good meal a night, but she had already dragged one Surf Nazi into an alley and was on the lookout for another. 

It sure wasn’t normal, and she knew it. 

Dwayne was on her other side, leaning on the railing with his arms folded over his chest. He cast a glance towards her when he heard her huff and found that he couldn’t look away, and suddenly, he was busy memorizing every single detail about her face. 

She was beautiful, and he understood why the others liked her so much. Her lips were full and her complexion seemed like it was olive at some point before she became a creature of the night. Arched eyebrows furrowed when she narrowed those hazel eyes, a classical nose scrunching with displeasure. She had tied her hair up on top of her head, leaving her throat exposed in what could have been some sort of a dare, and Dwayne had to stop himself from leaning in and taking a bite. 

Maybe being patient was going to be harder than he thought. 

“One lemonade, for the lady,” Marko snickered as he shoved his way back through the crowd, lemonade in hand. He had heard their little discussion, and as he brought Vera her drink, he made a point of kissing her cheek. You know, like a gentleman would. 

“You little kiss ass,” Paul grumbled as Vera took the lemonade with a smile. 

Marko just winked and settled himself between Vera’s legs, a hand on each thigh as he grinned up at her. 

“Thank you, Marko,” she drawled, tangling her free hand in his curls affectionately. 

Paul only rolled his eyes and looked the other direction.

David watched them with amusement. They had been there for half an hour, just looking at the crowds while Star was off somewhere with Laddie. He could feel Max nudging at his mind, as he had been for the past hour, and finally, he gave a little snarl and let him in.

What? He snapped. 

I want to meet her, David. His sire answered. Bring her to me.

He couldn’t help but growl. After.

After what, exactly?

After everyone has had their chance. 

David felt him let out an irritated sigh, but he was going to stand his ground. Vera was making him cautious, and he wasn’t going to introduce her to the most powerful vampire he knew until they figured out just who all exactly she was destined to belong with. It was hard enough wrangling his pack without having to worry about Max butting in. 

Paul and Marko were fooling around and Vera was leaning against Dwayne when she was finally fed up enough to hop down from the railing. David raised an eyebrow at her when she put her hands on her hips and flared her nostrils in a not so subtle attempt to track down some food. 

“I’m hungry,” she declared, cocking her hip to one side as she glared at David.

“Why am I the subject of your wrath?” He quipped, waving her away dismissively. “Go find a snack if you’re so starved.”

Vera growled at his tone, but she was too hungry to try to challenge him. She wasn’t even sure where she was falling on their totem pole, and she had better things to do with her time than stand there and try to figure it out. 

“We’ll keep an eye on things.” David said with a glint in his eyes that revealed how much he enjoyed riling her up. 

Vera’s nasty snarl turned into a grin as she reached up to let her hair down, hips swaying as she disappeared into the crowd to find a boy stupid enough to go after her. 

“Is it a good idea to let her run off like that?” Marko asked, watching her go. 

“Max won’t bother her.” David straightened up. “And besides, she needs some enrichment.”

“You talk like she’s a zoo animal,” Dwayne snorted. “She doesn’t need time to play.”

“You’re right.” David smirked as he started off in the direction Vera had gone. “She needs to hunt.”

[cloudywriter]

a trip to target

rowaelin month - september 6th

prompt: firstborn arrives

i literally have no idea where this idea came from like it’s so weird but i think it’s funny so i just had to write it. honestly though pregnancy freaks me out a little so it was a little uncomfy to write at times but i pushed through and i like it. enjoy!

(warning for some minor language)

masterlist, AO3

~~~

Rowan was working on one of his client's cases, a rather nasty divorce that he knew was going to be an absolute dumpster fire when his wife called him again. Rowan couldn’t help but smile a little at her name lighting up his phone screen but admittedly she was bothering him so much he barely got any work done nowadays. 

He picked up anyway, he’d never decline her. “Hey, Fireheart.”

“I’m bored, buzzard,” Aelin deadpanned. 

“I know, baby, but I’ll come home after my meeting later, I promise. Then we can watch Bachelor reruns all night and eat ice cream,” Rowan assured her, leaning back in his office chair. For some reason, all she wanted to do nowadays was watch bad reality tv and eat ice cream from the carton. As much as Rowan hated reality shows and wasn't keen on sweets he did anything to make her happy.

“That’s too far away, I’m rotting away on this couch,” Aelin whined. 

Aelin’s work had forced her on maternity leave a few days ago as she was due any day now with their first child, a little girl, and Aelin was not taking it well. She was the kind of person who liked to always be busy and now she had nothing to do but sit on the couch and wait for their child to decide she was ready to enter the world. She was constantly phoning Rowan seeking some form of entertainment but he was still working on this damn case. 

Rowan thought her restlessness had something to do with the fact she was terrified at the thought of giving birth and caring for a newborn. If she were distracted she wouldn’t have to think about the daunting task at hand. So, he did his best to keep her happy and preoccupied but he desperately needed to wrap up this case before his daughter arrived. He wanted to be there for every moment of the beginning of her life, he didn’t fancy any legal cases looming over his head vying for his attention as well. 

“I know, I’ll be home as soon as I can. Hang tight, my love.” 

Aelin huffed from the other end of the line. “I’m ready for her to be out, Rowan. This sucks.” 

Rowan stifled a laugh, he knew being pregnant had lost its charm a long time ago. At first, she enjoyed Rowan fetching anything she asked for and waiting on her, but then that started to get old, and Aelin's pregnancy symptoms made her miserable most of the time. So, the last couple of months hadn't been her favorite. 

“I’m ready to meet her too. Any second now.” 

“Okay, I’ll stop bothering you now," Aelin concluded. She likely finally found something on Netflix that piqued her interest. "Good luck with your meeting, I hope they settle. I love you,” Aelin told him. 

“I love you too, see you soon,” and with that, the call ended. Rowan looked out the window of his office, thinking. Maybe he could send someone to keep her company?

He ran through a list of their friends in his head. Elide, Aedion, and Lysandra were all working as far as he knew and didn’t want to ask them to leave their job to entertain Aelin. He thought of Lorcan, Connall, and Fenrys, they all worked for him so technically he could let them off. Except, Aelin didn’t particularly like Lorcan and he didn’t think Connall would be very keen on that arrangement either. Fenrys, though, Aelin and Fenrys were best of friends, a force of nature all on their own. 

So, Rowan rang his assistant requesting that Fenrys be sent to his office. Not much time passed before Fenrys was standing in the doorway, knocking lightly on its frame.

“What’s up?” He asked, plopping himself down on a chair opposite Rowan, making himself comfortable. 

“I have a favor to ask,” Rowan confessed. 

“A favor?” Fenrys raised an eyebrow, intrigued. 

“Can you go keep Aelin company while I’m trying to settle with the Westfalls?” Rowan probed. 

Fenrys frowned. “As much as I love Ace I can’t take a day off work to hang out with her. I have bills to pay and ladies to take out.” 

Rowan nearly groaned, fighting an internal battle with himself. “I’ll let you do it on the clock,” he finally spit out. 

“You’re going to pay me to go entertain your wife?” Fenrys looked bewildered. “I feel like is almost insulting to Aelin, you paying people to hang out with her. You’re the one she should be paying people to hang out with.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not like that. I feel bad because I know she’s struggling and I can’t be home right now. I don’t want her to have to be alone, just take her to Target or something.”

“Aelin’s a grown woman, can’t she take herself to Target?” Fenrys disputed. 

“Yes, but she’s a grown woman who’s nearing 40 weeks pregnant. I’d rather she have a chaperone,” Rowan admitted, before backtracking. “Don’t ever tell her I said that.” 

Fenrys looked amused as Rowan continued. “Are you really going to say no?” 

“Of course not, getting paid to go to Target with Aelin is a hell of a lot better than getting paid to do paperwork,” Fenrys conceded. 

Rowan blew a sigh of relief as Fenrys headed to go pick up Aelin. 

+++

Fenrys had successfully gotten Aelin to Target. It wasn’t a hard task to accomplish, the woman loved Target but Fenrys noticed she seemed rather uncomfortable and he asked her multiple times if she just wanted to stay home instead. Aelin always said no, pushing on with their trip. 

He supposed having a watermelon-sized bump on one’s front would cause a certain degree of discomfort, though. Naturally, the pair find themselves in the baby section, gushing over tiny onesies and shoes small enough to fit in the palm of their hands. Fenrys was swiping through a display of onesies, “Do you think they have any of those onesies that say like 'broken condom 'on them or something?” 

Aelin turned around from where she was staring at baby headbands. “You’re nasty. My daughter was not the result of a broken condom.” 

Fenrys made a face, “I don’t want to know.”

Aelin snorted and they continued their browsing making their way through every aisle that had anything remotely baby-related. By now, Fenrys noticed Aelin was growing increasingly uncomfortable, he could see her stamina slowing, and the difficulty walking was beginning to pose. 

Eventually, he shifted to face her as they browsed the small, dollar section at the front of the store. “Do you want to head home and get off your feet?” he finally proposed. 

“No,” Aelin responded without looking at him, picking up a small, fake succulent. “Walking is supposed to induce labor and that’s what I’m aiming for right now,” she stated, smoothing a hand over the front of her round stomach. 

Fenrys shrugged, picking up a pair of cheap fuzzy socks before throwing them back into their bin. 

He allowed Aelin to mill about the store, spending a healthy amount of time at the nightgown section before moving towards the back of the store. Aelin always said it wasn’t a trip to Target without going to the back and sniffing their extensive stockpile of candles. 

That’s exactly where they ended up. Fenrys had his nose stuck in a deep violet candle, making a face at its scent. He checked the label. Cosmic starlight. What the hell was that supposed to smell like? 

He turned to Aelin about to make her smell the atrocity when she braced herself against the shelf, putting down the candle she had been holding. Her mouth popped into an ‘o’ and her brow furrowed. 

“Aelin?” Fenrys reached out a hesitant hand placing it on her shoulder. 

Aelin breathed deeply, taking a moment to reply. “The baby must really hate the smell of sandalwood,” she finally vocalized. 

Fenrys’ dark eyes widened. “Did you just have a contraction?” 

“I think? It’s hard to tell if it was just a strong fake one or not,” Aelin panted eventually loosening her grip on the candle display shelf. 

Fenrys wasn’t taking any chances, if Rowan wanted him to deal with a woman going into labor he’d have to raise his pay significantly. “How about we get you home, Ace.” 

Aelin didn’t object, just nodded her agreement waddling towards the front of the store with Fenrys hovering around her like a fly. 

They made it out to the parking lot without any further incident and Fenrys helped Aelin into his low, expensive sports car that was his prized possession. Aelin’s face scrunched up then a sharp gasp left her mouth, her hand flying to her stomach. 

“I think squatting down trying to get into this thing just broke my water,” her eyes were wide with fear as she looked up at Fenrys. 

Fenrys face was comical, his own eyes widening like saucers and his mouth dropped. Sure enough, the bottom of her dress was wet. Fenrys was frozen for a second his mind completely emptied out, then the panic set in sending a million thoughts racing through his head. 

Fenrys audibly gulped, “Okay, um, I’m calling Rowan.” Fenrys grabbed his phone out of his pocket, fumbling with the device as he dialed Rowan’s contact, willing him to pick up. 

Fenrys leaned slightly against the open passenger door as the phone rang. “You’ve reached Rowan Whitethorn-Galathynius, I’m sorry I couldn’t answer your call, please leave a message and I’ll -.”

Fenrys hung up and groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. Beside him, Aelin whimpered. “Holy shit, that was not fake,” she groaned, her grip tightening on the seat beneath her.

“Oh, gods, Aelin, please don’t give birth in my Mercedes,” he begged. 

“Really, Fen?” She narrowed her eyes at him, she’d probably kick him in the groin if she wasn’t incapacitated. 

“You know I love you, but I don’t want baby juice on the leather.”

“Just call Rowan again,” Aelin growled. 

Fenrys did just that, silently pleading with the universe for Rowan to pick up his gods-damn phone. Relief washed over him as the call connected. 

“Fen, I’m in a meeting this better be worth my while,” Rowan whispered harshly, he hated to be interrupted at work by anyone except Aelin.

“Oh, I’m sorry, your wife’s water did just break but I guess I’ll call back later,” Fenrys spat, growing increasingly flustered by the minute. 

Fenrys heard a sharp intake of breath. “Fuck, shit, okay, where are you? I’m coming right now,” the jingle of keys filled Fenrys’ ear from Rowan's end of the call. 

As Fenrys surveyed his surrounding the urge to laugh crept upon him, he fought his smile as he replied, “The Target parking lot.”

Aelin watched the exchange closely cluing in on Fenrys’ suppressed laughter. “It’s not funny, Fen!”

“It’s a little funny. I mean if anyone was going to have a baby in a Target parking lot, it’d be you. Or Lysandra. One of you two.”

Aelin snatched the phone out of Fenrys’ hand, pressing it to her ear. “Rowan,” she panted, resting her head on the side of the car. 

Fenrys couldn’t hear much of what Rowan was saying, he spoke in a low voice trying to calm Aelin, assuring her he was coming and he loved her and she was okay. 

They were sickeningly in love, Fenrys would admit. 

“Okay, I love you too,” Aelin breathed, hanging up the phone and handing it back to Fenrys. 

Fenrys leaned against the side of the car as they awaited Rowan’s arrival. “Cross your legs, Ace. Remember, no baby juice in the car,” he reminded her, trying his best to keep her mind off of what was happening while they waited.

“Go to hell,” Aelin murmured in the midst of a contraction. Fenrys wasn’t sure what to do so he bent forward to rub Aelin’s shoulder in an attempt to do what, he wasn’t sure. Aelin didn't yell at him though so he rubbed circles on her shoulder as she clung onto the seat. 

Rowan showed up only a few minutes later, tearing into the parking lot like a bat out of hell, so at odds with his usual slow and steady driving style. He jumped out of the car, his tie loosened around his neck as he rushed to Aelin’s side. 

He kneeled down next to the open car door, picking up her hand and brushing away the stray blonde strands of hair from her splotchy face. “I’m here, Fireheart. How far apart are your contractions?”

“I don’t know,” Aelin hissed. “Okay, okay, let’s just get you in the car and to the hospital,” Rowan decided, supporting Aelin as she eased out of the car, leaning heavily upon him. 

Fenrys and Rowan successfully got Aelin into the passenger seat of his car, Rowan buckled her in and continued whispering words of love and support. Rowan rounded the car and hopped into the driver's side ready to book it to the hospital when one of the back doors opened and Fenrys slid in. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Rowan asked, shifting in his seat to look back at Fenrys. 

“I’m coming, obviously. I’m about to be an uncle,” Fenrys stated clearly. 

Rowan internally debated with himself on whether to kick Fen out of the car or not but ultimately decided he needed to prioritize Aelin, if Fen wants to tag along then fine. 

The ride to the hospital was tense, Rowan held Aelin’s hand across the center console, kissing the back of it and consoling her. Fenrys felt as though he was intruding but he refused to miss the birth of his niece. 

Of course, once they were admitted to the hospital Fenrys was kicked to the waiting room while Rowan supported Aelin through the duration of her labor. 

It progressed surprisingly quickly after her water broke, it was only a few hours later when a nurse told Fen he could come see the baby. 

Fenrys pushed open the door to the room softly and peered in. On the bed was Aelin, her golden hair a fan around her and despite the traumatizing ordeal she was glowing. A small baby was wrapped up in a blanket, laying in Aelin’s arms. Rowan was at her side, peering down at the bundle in her arms with so much love Fenrys felt as though he should look away. The new parents were already smitten with their little human, running their fingers over her cheek. 

Aelin perked up as Fenrys stepped into the room. She ushered him over and he too inspected the baby. She was so small, sleeping contently in her mother’s arms. Fen thought she had Rowan’s nose and he could see wisps of blonde hair from beneath her wool beanie. 

“Is her name Target? Or Bullseye like the dog?” Fenrys quipped with a playful smile. 

Aelin rolled her eyes as he interrupted the tender, intimate moment and shoved his shoulder with a shocking amount of strength for a woman who’d just pushed a whole baby out. 

“No,” Rowan answered, his eyes not leaving Aelin or the baby, “Her name is Elora.”

“Elora,” Fenrys repeated. “She’s beautiful, Aelin.”

Aelin gave him a soft smile and Elora yawned, her little eyes fluttering open. She gazed up at Fenrys with eyes the color of a pine forest. 

Fenrys beamed at the small girl and he liked to think she almost smiled back.

~~~

kinda leaning on the side of an aelin and fenrys brotp fic but i couldn’t not publish it, it’s so cute.  it’s not as fluffy as i’d like it to be but it was supposed to be more funny, nonetheless, i have more rowaelin baby content planned that is very fluffy. 

[pocketfulofrogers]

To Outlive the Devil

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Summary: A good save and a case practically solved leads to intelligence almost losing one of their own. Can you get out before it’s too late?

Notes: Canon violence, nothing worse than a typically dark episode. This is a past and present cut together story and it’s just shy of 4k. 

Now

Your bleary eyes open up to a cold and damp bedroom. An abandoned… apartment? The peeling wallpaper had given way to yellow stained drywall. From the small window on your left, it appeared as if you were several stories in the air, but there were no distinguishable landmarks that told you if you were even still in Chicago.

As you begin to come to your senses more, you feel the thick rope tied around your wrists and ankles. The rough material burns against you skin and you notice you already have sores.

How long have I been here?

Your memory is fuzzy and your head throbbed violently. It isn’t until you shift uncomfortably that you realize it’s a heavy metal chair you’re tied to.

Slowly your body begins to pick up on the danger your muddled brain had managed to identify and your pulse begins to quicken. As much as you try, your heartbeat continues to pound in your head as you try to twist your arms free.

The pain that responds is only a small price to pay for even the chance of freedom. Desperately, you continue to twist and pull until one of the knots manages to loosen up enough for you to squeeze your hand out. It’s just a short sprint to the front door in front of you.

You will your frozen fingers to work faster as you pinch and tear at each knot and then internally scream at your stiff muscles to carry you forward just a little bit more.

When your hand reaches the doorknob and it isn’t locked, relief floods your system. But when you’re able to wrench the door open, the person behind the door barely registers in your mind before everything goes black once again.

Then

Jay leans against his fist on his desk and tries to keep his frustration at bay. They’d been at this for two days straight and had been on the case for the last three months. “That’s two bodies in as many weeks. Is no one else starting to think…”

“That maybe hunting Chicago’s very own Criminal Minds level serial killer couple is out of our depth?” You interrupt, tilting your head towards him. “Doubt it.”

In fact, over the last two weeks, it’s the only thing you could think about. A younger woman named Madison roped, at least you were hoping she wasn’t a willing participant, into a horrific and violent life by a man you had yet to learn the identity of. You’d spent many nights pacing your bedroom, ranting and theorizing to Jay when all he wanted was just a bit of sleep.

The further you dove into it, however, the less hopeful you became for a quick arrest.

Voight had about ripped your head off when you suggested passing the case to the FBI and got to hear the ‘this is our city’ speech once again. But the truth was you were running out of ideas, running out of leads to chase down the rabbit hole, and running out of time.

“I hate to say it, but Voight’s right.” Antonio almost looks pained, but he continues on before you can question him. “The first time these two surfaced five years ago, CPD went full force. They shut it all down, had every uniform pulling overtime, and tried to smoke them out. Instead, it scared them into hiding.”

“Five girls in three months, Dawson, they’re escalating.” You take a breath before looking him in the eyes. “I can’t keep notifying parents.” There’s a certain pang in your voice only those who have had to watch a parent’s life crumble around them can hear. Jay reaches out to squeeze your forearm for just a bit of comfort and you run your fingers over his.

It’s enough.

“Then we end this.” Voight’s eyeing you, sympathetic to where you’re coming from, but not willing to give up yet. “Let’s find these monsters and make them pay.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you nod and turn to Adam. “Ok, let’s go over everything together, see if we can find something we missed.”

“Since it’s all we have, let’s revisit the address on Madison’s unemployment file.” Jay suggests.

Adam looks confused. “The house was condemned last year, torn down in the spring.”

“I know, but what about the name on the house, did anyone look into it?”

“Figured it was a stolen identity.” Kevin pipes up. “Clara Knight, died in 2012 of a heart attack at 66. No other properties in her name.”

“Knight?” Mouse perks up and starts shifting through his files. “I found a few erased emails from a Robert Knight, but I couldn’t find any relation or connection.”

Adam is already typing ferociously. “Got a death certificate for a Robert Knight, 68, died a few months ago. Seems like the guy barely existed.”

“Any children?”

“A daughter.” His face is grim. “Murdered in 99, she was 16.”

The hairs on the back of your neck prickle. “Pull up a picture of her.” You don’t need to see it to confirm what you already feared, but still the image of her face churns your stomach. A beautiful blonde girl with the hope of the whole world in her smile. “He’s been at this a lot longer than anyone thought.”

“Any property still in his name?” Voight asks.

Anxiety rippling through your chest, it feels like an eternity before Mouse nods. “His nephew Isaac put his house in Roseland on a tax form.”

Now

When you come to, the first thing you notice is that your restraints have been changed to zip ties and for a moment you’re concerned about your circulation. You’re worry is cut short by the cup of water on a table to your right, the plastic straw close enough for you to reach it.

The sudden realization of the searing pain in your throat and the cracked skin on your lips lets you know it’s probably been about two days. It’s the dryness of your tongue that overrides every single rational thought of concern that maybe the glass beside you isn’t safe to drink. But, fifteen minutes pass with no incident so whoever it is probably wants to keep you alive.

The thought sends ice down your back.

Alive for what?

“What do you want from me?” You scream into the empty apartment.

Then

“We need a vacation after this.” Jay declares as he leans the seat of the car back a little. “Somewhere warm with water so I can look at you in a tiny bathing suit all day.”

You roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss the small smile you give before bringing the binoculars up again. “We’ll see what we can do about that.”

“Hey lovebirds.” Adam calls over the radio from the car down the street from yours. “Have you seen anything yet or are you too busy staring into each other’s eyes again?”

It’s Jay’s turn to roll his eyes. “Didn’t you just take your third piss break?”

“Hydration is very important.” He defends.

“I told him to wear the diapers.” Alvin adds. Adam tries to defend himself, but you can barely hear him over Kevin’s laughter next to him.

Just then, out of the corner of your eye, you see the movement of a curtain, the flash of blonde hair, and the air shifts. Jay immediately catches the tense set of your shoulders and starts asking questions.

“They’ve got a girl up there.” You tell him through gritted teeth.

“Are you sure? I didn’t see anything.”

You nod and get out of the car despite the hushed protests from Jay as he follows you. To do what? You weren’t sure yet but you had felt so powerless these last few months that maybe you weren’t being the most rational right now.

The curtain moves again and, rather than getting caught, you quickly spin around and push Jay against the car before crashing your lips to his. Other than a noise of shock sounding from the back of his throat, he doesn’t miss a beat.

“North corner window.” You mumble against his lips and slide your hands up his chest, tilting your head to the side to give him a better angle.

When he pulls away, he brings his phone up and looks you in the eye. “We’ve got confirmation on the nephew Isaac, but he’s got another girl up there. If we bust in, he might get spooked and hurt her.”

It’s quiet longer than either of you would like.

“What should we do, boss?” Adam asks for you.

“Do you think you can get in quietly?” Voight asks.

Jay waits for your nod. “We’re on it. Going silent.”

Picking the lock was nothing. Sneaking around a house you know nothing about except for a quick glance at a blueprint from 2005 was the difficult part. Jay splits the two of you up, sending you upstairs while he clears the lower level. Circumstance didn’t allow you the option to argue with him that splitting up in a situation like this is the worst thing to do.

He was your partner and it was your job to always have his back, as difficult as he makes it, but he’s rounded a corner into the living room before you get the chance to cuff him to you.

Your breath catches in your throat when a step on the stairs creak, but you keep moving until you find a girl in the second room you clear. She’s blind folded with on leg tied to the bed. She tenses when you approach, but relaxes once you’ve gotten close enough to whisper who you are.

“Tracey.” She says he name with a whimper and your heart breaks as you cut the rope and take off her blindfold.

When she sees you’re really who you say you are, she throws herself into your arms and begins to cry. There’s nothing more you want to do than to sit here and comfort her, but your ears picks up on a man’s voice you don’t recognize.

“Ok, Tracey, I know you’re so scared, and I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, but I need you to be brave a little longer.” You pull back and look her in the eyes. “My partner and I came in here alone. I need you to tell me where the man and woman who took you are.”

She nods. “I don’t know where she went, she left a while ago. He’s here, downstairs I think, in his office.”

There’s a crash downstairs, the sound of broken glass and your blood runs cold. Immediately, you look for any other way out, but there’s nothing. No balcony, no window, nothing. Voight’s on the radio already, but you silence him.

“Stay directly behind me.” There’s a kind of urgency in your voice that puts her even more on edge.

Creeping down the stairs, you can hear Jay struggling in the kitchen, but it sounds like he’s holding his own.

“Bringing the girl out.” You whisper into your radio and glance back at Tracey. “As soon as we get down, I want you to run to the door. Do not stop. When you get across the street there are people who will help you.” She nods but she looks terrified. “I swear I won’t let him get anywhere near you.”

It’s the door opening that alerts Isaac that something else is going on. You round the corner with your gun drawn and the scene before you makes your knees weak.

Jay is bruised and cut up, struggling against the man behind him, the arm around his neck, the gun pointed at his head.

“She said you were cops, but I told her she was paranoid.” Isaac snarls.

“Madison? Is she here?” You ask, your voice as level as your gun trained on his head. Voight is yelling over the radio, but you tune him out. “I’d love to meet her.”

He snickers and smiles wickedly. “Even if she could be caught, neither of you will be alive long enough to see it.”

He only manages a twitch before you pull the trigger and land a shot right between his eyes.

Jay falls forward, breathing heavy and you rush towards him. “Jay’s hurt!” You call out when the door is broken down. Adam kicks the gun away from the obviously dead suspect and you let them handle the scene.

“Where does it hurt? Did you get hit? I told you it was stupid to split us up! How’s your breathing?” Your hands are frantically searching every inch of his body. He has to grab your hand and grip it tight in his to stop the assault of questions rapid firing from your lips.

He sits up with a groan and kisses your knuckles when he sees the panic on your face. “I’m okay. Because of you it’s just a few cuts and bruises.” He manages a smile and you almost cry right there.

Voight places a hand on your shoulder. “Tracey is on her way to Med. Medics said she’s going to be okay. We’ve got another bus on the way for you. Nice work you two.”

Now

The creak from the front door opening pulls you from a daze and you wince at the sunlight flooding the room. A blonde woman stands before you with a duffle in her left hand and a gun in her right.

She tilts her head to the side. “You’re still alive. What a shame.”

You struggle to focus your eyes from the concussion you’re assuming she must’ve given you. “Maddison.” You croak out. “What are you doing?”

She drops the duffle next to you and grips your hair to pull your head back, pushing the barrel of the gun into your temple.

“I’m going to make you suffer.” She hisses and roughly lets you go. “I tried to warn him that you were watching us, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Isaac?”

“Don’t say his name!” She screams and the sound cracks through your skull. “He told me to get some supplies, but when I cam back, I watched from the back window as you murdered him.”

You shake your head and try to reason with her. “Maddison, he was hurting people. He was going to kill my partner.”

“Partner.” She repeats sarcastically. “You mean Jay Halstead, your boyfriend of 3 years?” Maddison moves in front of you to revel in the fear that has filled your eyes and smiles sinisterly. “Yeah, I know who he is.”

You start quickly, the panic in your voice betraying the training you were struggling to hold onto. “If you want to kill me fine, do it. But don’t hurt him, Maddison. Please, he’s done nothing.”

She tsks as she opens the duffle and begins to pull out long metal pieces until finally, a long-barreled shot gun. “Why would I kill you when the alternative is so much better?”

You begin to struggle against the restraints as your mind starts to put together scenario after scenario of awful images. Maddison pays no mind to you begging and pleading to see reason. Instead, she pauses from building some contraption to walk over to you and jam a needle in your neck.

When you come too again, she’s sat casually in front of you. “I thought hitting you in the head again might actually kill you, and that’s not what I’m going for, so… you’re welcome.”

You glance around again and notice the barrel of the shotgun behind you just to the left of your shoulder. “Yeah, thanks.” You deadpan looking back at her. “What’s with the ‘Saw’ set up?”

She raises a brow. “Hold onto that strength while you can.” She points out the wires and hooks running along the floor and ceiling to trace it back to the door in front of you. “I used to be a STEM major. Did you know that?” She doesn’t stop long enough for you to respond. “Turns out I still remember a few things.”

You stare past her towards the door and then look quickly back to the gun, beginning to piece together her plan.

“Yes.” She coos. “It’s exactly what you’re thinking. The first person that opens that door, if he happens to be the right height, will get a life ending shot to the face. And I’d like to ask you what the chances are that anyone other than your boyfriend will be the first through the door.”

None.

For the first time you feel utterly defeated, hopeless. Madison watches closely, soaking in every moment of your anguish.

“Now you’ll know what it feels like.”

Then

You phone buzzes for the fourth time in the last hour. “Yes?”

“He’s actually insufferable, where are you?” Will speaks quickly, his tone seeping in irritation.

You laugh. “April already sent me out to get him food because he was whining so much. I am in route with a burger and some other stuff from his favorite place. Should be there in 15.”

“Thank god.” He says quietly. “Would you give it a rest? She’s 15 out with enough food to hopefully put you in a coma so I don’t have to.” You laugh as Will continues to yell at his brother.

“I almost died! Where’s your compassion?” You hear Jay yell back and only laugh harder

“You have ONE bruised rib and a concussion. I’ve seen high school football players handle worse with less complaining!”

“If it’s not so bad, why won’t you let me leave?!”

“I’m stepping up the pace, be there soon.” You laugh and hang up.

The Chicago night was chilly, but something else causes the hairs on the back of your neck begin to prickle. You don’t stop walking, don’t even pause a single step. Instead, you glance in a shop window and catch the reflection of a woman, a flash of blonde, not too far behind you.

Casually, you switch the bag of food to your other hand, but before you’re able to grab your gun, there’s a pinch in your neck and everything goes black.

Now

Jay had forced his way back to work sooner than anyone recommended. You’d been missing for 5 days. Disappeared with no trace other than your cell phone and a bag of cold diner food spilt on the sidewalk. If it were up to him, he would’ve been at his desk the moment 30 minutes hit and you weren’t there.

Alvin called two hours later telling him what they found and Adam and Antonio had to physically restrain him, Will almost sedated him. Voight promised him that they’d find you, and Jay knew they’d do everything they could, but he needed to be a part of the search.

“Did she have any enemies?” Alvin asks and he doesn’t flinch when Jay begins to laugh sarcastically.

“Any enemies? Do you hear yourself? She had tons. We all do. But let’s stop pretending like her being taken the day we closed that case isn’t connected.”

Alvin tries to sympathize with him. “We have to ask. You know the drill.”

He throws his hands up in exasperation. “Are you seriously going to treat this like any other missing person? It’s Y/N, Al! Y/N!”

“We know.” Voight says from his office door. “I made a few calls, Jay, we know where she is.” For a fraction of a second, Jay is frozen, but the thought of what you could be going through right now moves him. He’s grabbed his jacket and is in the car before anyone else has moved.

“I thought only the CIA had access to things like that.” Adam whispers lowly in the car into Kevin’s ear.

He shrugs. “Do think it’s out of the question that he’d break several constitutional laws to save any one of us?”

Adam sits back in his seat with pursed lips, nodding.

You struggle against the restraints long after Madison leaves you with only a gag in your mouth. The multiple cars pulling up and all the people shouting told you that you were running out of time. As of this very moment, you were locked into your fate of watching the man you loved die.

This was not an option.

The hard plastic digs into your ankles and wrists, your movements quickening with each door you hear them break down. You try to scream, to warn whoever was on this floor that there was a danger they couldn’t possibly see, but your muffled cries wouldn’t carry.

Tears soak the bandana shoved in in your mouth and you try to scream again.

No! Stop! It isn’t safe!

You hear Voight’s voice a few doors down and begin to try and rock the chair back and forth. It was considered heavy for a good day, and today was not that. Having not eaten or really moved in so long had left you weak and foggy. The adrenaline coursing through you veins only aiding a little in your efforts.

The sound of the front door breaking down sends a jolt of energy through you and you send yourself flying in front of the gun just as the bedroom door opens.

Jay raises his weapon at the sound before his brain can register what has happened. His wide eyes find yours just before you’ve hit the ground.

“Y/N!” He screams and rushes towards you. Frantic, shaky hands move quickly to remove the bandana and zip ties before applying pressure to your shoulder. “I need a medic!” He calls franticly over his shoulder, but when he turns back to you, he has to shut down the thought that you might not make it that long.

“You found me.” You try to say, but instead sputter blood onto your cheek.

“Oh, God.” He gasps. “You’re okay, you’re going to be fine.” But the more he says, the less you hear him.

“I love you.” You try to reach out to his face and graze his cheek, but your fingers won’t cooperate and only leave smudges of blood across his skin.

When your breathing starts to quicken and become more raged, he knows time is running out. So, in defiance of the orders and suggestions coming in through his ear piece, he lifts you up to cradle you to him and runs.

**

An annoying, incessant beeping is the only thing you can hear, but when you move to reach for it, a shooting pain stops you cold. You groan softly and pry your eyes open only to see both Will and Antonio hovering too close to your face.

Will starts to wave a flashlight in your eyes and you push him away. “When was the last time you guys brushed your teeth?”

Antonio chuckles softly and places his hand atop your head, his thumb brushing softly. “We got her.” He says quietly. “She couldn’t help herself. She stayed close to the scene to see the fallout and Kim caught her.”

Will nods his head towards Jay who was sleeping soundly in what you had to imagine was a very uncomfortable position. “We’ve been keeping an eye on him as well as you. Do you want me to wake him?”

You look back over at him and smile before turning back. “Better not. These are the last few moments of peace I’ll get for the next year at least. You would think someone would be a little more grateful towards you for saving their life, but I can already hear how mad he’s going to be.” Only a small part of you is joking.

“Well, I’ll get shot next time and we’ll see how you feel.” Jay’s sleep riddled voice carries from the corner, but he hasn’t opened his eyes yet. “I’ll give you an hour.” He adds before settling back in.

Now that’s the love of my life.

[arthurflecksgirl]

Hey, how is your day going so far? I hope it's splendid! Can I request an Arthur x reader where the reader is recovering from self harm and he is proud of them? You can choose it to be sfw or nsfw. Thanks in advance! :)

Hey Anon, Thank you for your ask. I 'm okay and I hope you are doing well,too?! I am soooo sorry this took me so long but I finally sat down today and wrote your request. I was thinking about that request since you first send it to me. It was a beautiful one but also a tough one. Itˋs a sensitive subject and I was struggeling with how I wanted to write it. I was afraid to write it in a way you wouldnt approve so I am a bit nervous posting this and I hope with all my heart that you will like the result. This request was close to my heart but a bit of a struggle until I finally sat down. I am sending love to anyone. Especially everyone who had to go through this or still does go through it.

Words: 1900

Trigger warning: Mentions of self harm

Arthur nervously chewed on his pencil ,while the blank page of his journal was staring at him like it expected something good to happen. More than one good thing happened in his life recently and he absolutely hated how difficult it was for him to put his emotions into words. Words worthy of how he truly felt about not being alone anymore. He felt like the emotion of it was a seed he didnt knew how to water properly ,to make it the flower that was a written page in his diary. One he would like to show to you , randomly in the middle of the night. To proof how he felt inside. Blooming.

He always felt like he wasnˋt good with words but so much better with showing his feelings off in a different way. A movement of his body when you were slow dancing across the bedroom, a piece of music hummed into your ear while he was pulling you closer, the touch of his thumb brushing your cheek before he leaned in to kiss you. Body language was his way to express what was growing deep inside of him. A love so immessurable, he was becoming a new man. And you were his garden he wanted to spent the rest of his life in. He wanted to build a cabin right in the middle of the gardens heart and plant roses and violets. Once he figured out how to water them and which flowers demend more sunlight or which ones prefered the shadows. He wanted to learn every aspect of your soul. Flower by flower. Petal by petal. To let his roots grow towards yours. Arthur touched the artificial flowers on his desk. They reminded him of who he used to be. Unreal and far from what he desired to be. No sunlight could have touched him  enough to let him grow.

Until there was you. His garden. He finally became what he was supposed to be. A sunflower. The flower of joy and happiness. But also the flower of the man who once drank yellow painting to commit suicide by putting happiness inside himself. At least that was the rumor Arthur heard on tv when he watched a documentary about Vincent Van Gogh. And he was quiet fascinated by it. Somehow the though was relateable to him. In a very abstact, sad, beautiful way.

„Last week“ he wrote , trying to draw a sunflower but it just didnt turned out the way he intented to. „She  finally felt comfortable enough to wear a short sleeve in front of me. I guess that means she really does feel save around me. Ah, it means the world!“  Arthur smiled to himself when he drew a tiney heart and filled it in. His heart was so full of you. Just thinking about the way you took off your comfort sweater for the first time to show him the scars of the past ,created a feeling in his heart he couldnˋt name. 

It has been a while since you let him know about your struggles with self harm. And Arthur could tell that it wasnˋt an easy thing to do. He would always remember the moment he first saw your naked arms. The pattern of hurt on your fragile skin. This moment of vulnerability and strengh. He wanted to kiss it. Arthur wanted to kiss along every single scar to show you how beautiful you were to him and how much he belived in the power of a gentle lip kissing where it hurts the most. But he didnˋt. Arthur wasnˋt sure if it was the right moment yet. He didnt wanted to do anything wrong. So he just sat there, thinking about placing kisses all over, while he picked his own eyebrow with his fingers.

„One day“ he wrote underneath the heart „I will kiss  her scars and she will feel what I felt when she was taking care of me“. Arthur put the pencil down and took a deep drag of his cigarette. Smoke filled his lungs but he wished it was your breath instead.

A familiar noise interrupted his daydream as he put the remains of the cig in his pink ashtray. „Hey darling, Iˋm home“. Your voice made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The way you called him darling was music in his ears. His favourite song he repeated in his head when he was at work or taking the bus. He sometimes hummed the words „Hey darling“ , as if it was a prayer. „Hey darling Iˋm home“. Home. That was never the word he would have used to  discribe the place he was living in. Never what he thought of when he felt the worn fabric of his couch underneath his naked skin or was lying in the bathtube, checking for how long he could handle to keep his head under water. This place with all itˋs heavyness wasnˋt home. But it transformed into a home eveytime you opened the door to wrap your arms around him. A genlte kiss upon his forehead. His noticlable frown  underneath your lips. Hey darling, Iˋm home. You are home, finally. We are. A home.

Arthur shifted his position ,so your lips immediately found their way to his forehead. „Forehead kisses“ he thought „Are her way to tell me how much she cares“. He closed his eyes for a moment. His dark lashes covering his piercing eyes like a curtain, to feel the moment with all itˋs gentleness. When Arthur opened his eyelids again he noticed something wrapped around your wrist. His heart stopped for a moment. The thought of you harming yorself again hit him so hard he forgot how to breathe. „Y/N…are you….okay? Oh my god…“ Arthurs index finger reached out for your wrist. He barely dared touching it. His tear filled eyes blurring his sight.

„Yeah, I am. How was your day, Arthur?“ you replied as you sat down on his lap to kiss the corner of his mouth. You noticed his lips trembling underneath your own. A tiney earthquake emerging from within. His day was okay while he was sittin on his desk thinking of all the beautiful things he could write to you. Until you came home with a hurt wrist. Now nothing remained okay. Seeing you hurt was worse than his own pain. Your wound was his wound. Arthur held your face between his hands, unable to responde with a kiss.

„Are you…. Are you hurt?“ he whispered, pointing at your bandage. He wanted to be here for you. Now more than ever. His mind was travelling back to the day you found him with a bleeding forehead after he hit his head against the wall. He recalled your hand resting on the spot that hurt so much and how it lead to the first forehead kiss he received in his life. Thatsˋs when he knew he wasnˋt all alone in this anymore. Thats when he knew that, yes there will be bad days , even together but he didnt had to face them on his own anymore. There was someone looking after him. Someone willing to ease the pain. To heal his wounds. Old or recent. He remembered how gently you held his hurting head, fingers brushing  back his hair to clean the wound. Heˋll never forget the first act of kindness and love from a loved one.

And now it was his turn to tell you itˋs going to be okay. His turn to take care of your wounds.

„No baby, Iˋm not hurt. Iˋve got a little suprise for you…“ Arthurˋs eyes glanced deeply into yours „A…. surprise? What do you mean?“

You lifted your arm smiling at him. Thats when he noticed your wrist wasnˋt bandaged but wrapped in some kinda foil. You slowly started to unwrap it, a big smile lingering on your face. „Darling, I hope you like it“.

Arthur couldnt belive his eyes. Were once was a scar six letters showed. Written on your wrist. Six letters so familar, he started sobbing.

„Oh Arthur….“ You touched his cheek „You like it?“

He covered his mouth with his right hand, mumbling.

„I thought about this  for a while now. Getting your name tattooed to cover my oldest scar“.

A single tear ran down his happy face „Thats…. Just…. Wow. I…. donˋt know what to say. Thatˋs my name. You got a tattoo of my name. „ Arthur couldnt stop staring at the letters. „Can I….touch it?“.

 You smiled „Not yet, itˋs still fresh and I need to put some cream on it.“

„Oh! Yeah…. Of course.“

Arthur tried to understand what was happpening right now. A minute ago he was afraid you hurt yourself again and now  he found himself looking at a tattoo that was his very own name. Part of you.

He felt your other hand touching his blushing cheek „I really wanted this to remind me of how beautiful things can happen after experiencing so much pain. There is this scar and itˋs still there but somehow it belongs to my past and it doesn´t define me. It never did. And now there is you. The light that came after the dark. The one who understands my scars and eases the pain by loving me for who I am. I love you, Arthur, I love you so much itˋs so demanding and beautiful and …..now youˋre always on my mind, in my heart and under my skin.“

Arthur gently lifted your hand, careful enough to not touch the tattoo. „I love you“ he whispered „Can I…. can I kiss your…“ goosebumps covered your skin as his upper lip found itˋs way to travel across your arm. Soft kisses, thoughtful and warm, scar after scar. You couldnt help but cry a little. Arthur froze „My god, Iˋm sorry I only wanted to…“

„Donˋt stop“ you whispered through the tears „Please….“

The light in Arthurs eyes came back when he realized it was happy tears running down your cheeks. Tears of relief and inner peace.

„Remember when you found me after….“

„I do, Arthur.“

„That was the first time I felt truly loved“ he breathed, while he continued kissing your skin.

„You found me at my worst. And loved me. Especially where it hurt the most“

You closed your eyes, concentrating on the softness of his lips. His presence was medicine. Calming and warm like a favourite sweater.

You remembered  very well. It was the day you knew that you would give the world to protect this man. The beautiful soul that Arthur was. You couldnt change his past but write his future. You and him together. Sitting in front of a blank page, where anything was possible.  Every yet unborn poem was demanding to be written. Every small moement of happiness. And when the pages get torn and some parts get blacked out, you would be here to put a sticker on it. Heart shaped. One thatˋs glowing in the dark. So when he openes his journal at night he couldnt see the scribbles and blacked out parts. Only the bandage that was love.

Just like the words written on your wrist.

Arthur.

 

„I wanna do the same for you“ he mumbled between the kisses „Loving you where it hurts the most…so...“ he lifted his face, looking at you „…where does it hurt?“

„Every inch untouched  by your loving hands“.

Only a heartbeat later Arthurs thumb gently brushed over your bottom lip as he whispered „Let me take care of that“.

[shirophantomvox]

Ging Freecss Character Analysis

Hisoka Analysis| Illumi Analysis| Killua Analysis| Chrollo Analysis

What’s up, y’all? I am back again with another analysis. Today, I will be talking about Ging Freecss and I am glad that this was requested by @dukinaxael. I’ve been wanting to talk about Ging for a while and now is my time to shine. PS, I’ll be doing Leorio’s character next.  I’m sorry that this is so short! I haven’t been able to watch the last seasons because Netflix will not upload them. Enjoy anyway!

We all know that Ging is considered to be a dead-beat father to his son Gon. He is the reason why Gon wants to become a hunter in the first place and will do ANYTHING to achieve that goal. As the story is told, Ging left his home when he was 12 years old to take the Hunter’s exam. After passing, he never returned home, at some point met Gon’s mom, and saved a lot of felons/criminal’s lives. Now he is apart of the Hunter’s association (I think?) and apart of the Zodiacs (I think). Some of these next statements are assumptions because I haven’t seen anything past season 4. From that little bit of information, it seems like Gon gets his “over achiever” mentality from his dad. Who would have thought that a young man who had just obtained his hunter’s license would use it to help out criminals instead of busting them? Aunt Mito has expressed how she felt once her brother left and didn’t return, that is why she stressed that Gon should return home once he gets his license. She even stated that she cried for the longest when she realized he wasn’t coming back.

The whole mystery about why Ging abandoned Gon is very fuzzy. According to Aunt Mito, Ging dropped Gon at his house, said that he isn’t with Gon’s mom anymore, and left while some people say that Mito took Gon from Ging because she felt that he was too immature to take care of him. Some even say that he lost a custody case to her. I can’t tell you if this is true or not because I don’t know and I haven’t seen any seasons after 4.

Judging from YouTube Clips, Ging seems to be a selfish dad and doesn’t care about how his son basically cried like fuck for feeling guilty about what happened to Kite.

Leorio asked why he hadn’t seen Gon in the hospital and he acted like he didn’t care. If you think about it, Gon is the type of child that doesn’t want things handed to him, so maybe Ging was implying that he didn’t want to see Gon until he continued to push and work towards finding him. Still, that’s a horrible way to reacted once you’ve found out that your son is about to die. Here are some questions that I’m sure most of you have:

Why did Hisoka want to talk to Ging? Does he know that Ging is related to Gon?

Why does he refuse to go anywhere near Gon?

Why does he only talk to Gon on a high tree and not on the ground where everyone else is?

Why did he send his son on a goose chase just to find him?

I don’t want to say that I hate Ging but I strongly dislike him. (If he did do this) Why would you abandoned your child and leave him with your sister for her to raise? Then you send your 12 year old son, who had endured so much emotional pain/trauma from beasts he had to fight along the way, BTW,  just to meet you and then you only talk to him once your high off the ground? Ging, not the best guy in the world and certainly doesn’t deserve the #1 Dad mug.

Did Ging do all of this so he could make his son stronger while he was away?

In regards to question 1, I’ve seen some rumors on YouTube implying that Hisoka had an agreement with Ging to watch over Gon until he returns. I’m assuming this was after Gon left home.  Ging said that once Gon returns home safely he and Hisoka will fight until the death.

Do you all remember when Hisoka told Gon something along these lines at the end of their fight at Heaven’s arena?

Many people have suggested that Hisoka had been protecting Gon and Killua from fighting opponents they wouldn't win against and it makes sense. He wouldn’t let them pass until they learned about Nen and beat the crap out of them hoping that the pain would cause them to quit fighting and never receive their Hunter’s License or take on strong opponents. Now if that last part is true, why would Ging set up an entire game to lead Gon to him? That's still twisted no matter how you look at it. Like I said, this manga is twisted in ways that I can't understand, lol.

Hisoka and Gon consistently fighting reminds me of Danny Phantom and Vlad Plasmius.

Another person implied that Hisoka and Kite were people directed by Ging and along the way included Bisky (just by coincidence).

I would like to make a note. Pictures that were taken of young Ging portrayed him to be a happy and proud man but present day Ging looks angry, unhappy, and always ready to fight. Could this be due to the horrific nature of the Hunter's exam and other opponents that turned his innocence and humanity into something worse? We see the same thing happen to Gon. He was a happy bright kid that allows his anger to spiral out of control...and always wants to fight.

Well, you know what they say: Like father like son.

Ging and Gon finally have a talk as father and son.

Apparently, Ging is on his way to the Dark Continent and forbids Gon to follow him. Overall, Ging has a toxic love for his son by consistently pushing his away until the very last second. I don’t know what is up but this anime is the definition of toxic love.

I can definitely say that Ging is a much better father than Zarkon. At least he acknowledges Gon unlike Zarkon who thinks his son is weak because he is half Altean. Damn, anime/manga’s; what’s up with the toxic father trope? Is this supposed to be the driving force to marketing these male characters stronger? Not going to lie, the toxic or sexist father trope is old and annoying .

This part of the analysis is based form what I’ve heard about Ging, YouTube clips, and what has been said about him. Of course I’m probably leaving out a lot of information but that’s because I haven’t seen the rest of the seasons.

Judging from photos kept around the house, Ging always wore his hat over his eye. I guess he was going for the Emo look when he was younger. His hat has hairs stick out from it which probably implies a certain type of cloth the hat is made from. In other instances, He has his hair sticking up like Gon’s but has a cloth wrapped around the edges. He wants them to be on fleek you know? Other times he just has his hair out with no hat or cloth. He usually wears white pants, shirt, and a blue cloth over his front and back side.

I hope you all enjoyed this. I did try my best and I am so sorry that it is short.