#i hope you like my little starter for this though!! as whatever demon said to him back in the bar definitely has him being like-

[mad-hunts]

@sortilegii volunteered as tribute for a cuddle session with barton that involves casual intimacy! for demon, hehe

whilst lying next to his new bedfellow, barton looked a little bit like the cat who caught the canary, as he was seemingly quite proud of the 'catch' he'd made that night. though, the doctor truthfully hadn't come to the bar where the both of them had met explicitly searching for companionship. it just kind of happened. barton had only entered the place to keep an eye on someone and track their movements at first, as he was highly suspicious of them. there was just something about the way that barton could only find existing records of them from a couple of years ago until now. and well, had also wormed their way into his life, since other two candidates for the nurse position he was looking to fill to assist him with his 'work' were suddenly not returning any of his calls whatsoever; despite the fact they seemed very interested in it before.

so needless to say, barton felt like something about the situation as well as the person in general, was just very fishy overall. but then someone had sat next to him at the bar, whom he would soon learn was named demon and although barton was hesitant to take his attention off of his objective at the time, he was certainly glad he did now. it was undeniable that the other was handsome; almost devilishly so and when they got to talking, there also seemed to be a spark there. which is how barton ended up inviting demon back to his place with a clear view of all of the scars littering the other's back. some might've held pity for demon upon seeing them, or asked what happened, but barton chose an alternative third route for that night.

he delicately began to trace one of them with his thumb, before moving onto the next, and so on. barton was sort of in awe in a way by them all. for, every scar you have is an indication that you survived something, in the doctor's mind. and as a result... whatever had happened to inflict these upon him, even if it was severe, must not have been enough to break demon. the sounds of both of their quiet breathing were all that could be heard in barton's bedroom at the moment. but that soon changed as he scooted closer to his bedfellow until his bare chest was pressed against his back, barton's legs moving to intertwine with demon's. feeling the warmth of his body against his own was just so worth it to him.

❝ mm, what are you thinking about, mon bel ami*? you're not asleep... are you? ❞ he inhaled softly in contentment before wrapping an arm around demon from behind. barton rested his head over the man's shoulder then, dipping it to press a soft kiss to the skin there. he couldn't tell why the other was being so quiet but he didn't think it'd be for any sort of bad reason. the foot he had that was directly resting over demon's playfully ran over the other's bare skin a few times, ❝ it's fine if you are. i just want to stay like this for a little bit, if you'd be so kind to indulge me. ❞

[ translation*: my beautiful friend. ]

[nonbinaryeddiekaspbrak]

ek playlist sentence starters part four

info: sentence starters from my eddie kaspbrak playlist; part one part two part three :

come on mess me up - cub sport

"we were walking on sparkles street growing up real fast"

"i left it behind pretty quickly, still the farthest thing from pretty"

"i fell in love with avoiding problems"

"we were riding on smith street we were right on track"

"i left it behind without sinking, they all said i wasn't thinking"

"but i want this, you know i want this"

"so come on, mess me up"

"you can break me, if you'll still take me"

"if you'll let me be one of the ones you say you won't forget"

"i was stumbling on suffolk throwing up real hard"

"inside was kind of misty, i knew none of the history"

lovesong - the cure

"you make me feel like i am home again"

"you make me feel like i am whole again"

"whenever i'm alone with you, you make me feel like i am young again"

"you make me feel like i am fun again"

"however far away, i will always love you"

"however long i stay, i will always love you"

"whatever words i say, i will always love you"

"i will always love you"

"you make me feel like i am free again"

"whenever i'm alone with you, you make me feel like i am clean again"

sedated - hozier

"just a little rush, babe"

"just a little hush, babe; my veins are busy"

"my heart's in atrophy"

"any way to distract and sedate"

"adding shadows to the walls of the cave"

"you and i, nursing on a poison that never stung"

"we are deaf, we are numb"

"free and young and we can feel none of it"

"something isn't right, babe"

"i keep catching little words, but the meaning's thin"

"i'm somewhere outside my life, babe"

"i keep scratching, but somehow i can't get in"

"so we're slaves to any semblance of touch"

"lord, we should quit, but we love it too much"

"darlin' don't you stand there watching"

"won't you come and save me from it?"

"darlin' don't you join in"

"you're supposed to drag me away from it"

better son or daughter - rilo kiley

"sometimes in the morning i am petrified and can't move"

"the weight is crushing down on my lungs, i know i can't breathe"

"hope someone will save me this time"

"your mother's still calling you insane and high, swearing it's different this time"

"you tell her to give in to the demons that posses her and that god never blessed her insides"

"then you hang up the phone, and feel badly for upsetting things"

"crawl back into bed to dream of a time when your heart was open wide"

" and you loved things just because"

"sometimes when you're on, you're really fucking on"

"your friends, they sing along and they love you"

"the lows are so extreme that the good seems fucking cheap"

"it teases you for weeks in its absence"

"you'll fight and you'll make it through"

"you'll fake it if you have to"

"you'll show up for work with a smile"

"you'll be better and you'll be smarter and more grown up and a better daughter or son and a real good friend"

"you'll be awake, you'll be alert, you'll be positive though it hurts"

"you'll laugh and embrace all your friends"

"you'll be a real good listener"

"you'll be honest, you'll be brave"

"you'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful"

"you'll be happy"

"your ship may be coming in, you're weak but not giving in"

"you'll fight it, you'll go out fighting all of them"

i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys

"i wanna be your vacuum cleaner, breathin' in your dust"

"i wanna be your ford cortina, i will never rust"

"if you like your coffee hot, let me be your coffee pot"

"you call the shots, babe"

"i just wanna be yours"

"secrets i have held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought"

"maybe i just wanna be yours"

"let me be your 'leccy meter, an' i'll never run out"

"let me be the portable heater that you'll get cold without"

nightmare - set it off

"they're coming, creeping from the corner"

"all i know is that i don't feel safe"

"i feel the tapping on my shoulder"

"i turn around in an alarming state"

"but am i losing my mind? i really think so"

"not a creature in sight"

"what you don't know is that my breathing gets faster and so does my heartbeat"

"i wish this was over, i wish that this was a dream"

"i created a monster, a hell within my head"

"with nowhere to go, i'm out on my own"

"i'm so scared"

"i created a monster, a beast inside my brain"

"awake me from my nightmare"

"wait, something doesn't feel right"

"no, something seems wrong"

"i've been feeling this way for far too long"

"oh that's too bad"

"as my vision gets blurred, my skin's getting colder"

"appearing young, while i'm growing older"

"i collapse to the floor and scream can anybody save me from myself?"

"walking to the ledge, i find myself looking down"

"frozen still with fear, now i'm plunging to the ground"

"if only i knew how to fly"

"i could convince myself this isn't my time to die"

"insead i'm rocketing faster and faster, i dive-bomb to the floor"

"when my body crashes to the pavement, i'm right back where i was before"

gives you hell - all american rejects

"i wake up every evenin' with a big smile on my face"

"it never feels outta place"

"you're still probably working at a 9 to 5 pace"

"i wonder how bad that tastes"

"when you see my face, hope it gives you hell"

"when you walk my way, hope it gives you hell"

"now where's you picket fence, love?"

"where's that shiny car?"

"you never seemed so tense, love"

"i've never seen you fall so hard"

"do you know where you are?"

"truth be told, i miss you"

"truth be told, i'm lyin'"

"if you find a man that's worth a damn and treats you well then he's a fool"

"i hope it gives you hell"

"tomorrow, you'll be thinking to yourself yeah, where did it all go wrong?"

"the list goes on and on"

"now, you'll never see what you've done to me"

"you can take back your memories, they're no good to me"

"here's all your lies, you can look me in the eyes with the sad, sad look that you wear so well"

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE ;; Shuu Route ー Chapter 1

Yui: ( I have to retrieve my heart no matter what...! )

ー The scene starts in the area surrounding Bernstein Castle

Yui: ( Anyway, we should head to the city surrounding the castle. )

( But... )

Shuu: ...Pwah...

Yui: ( Doesn’t seem like Shuu-san wants to move a lot. )

( Honestly, I can’t imagine he would have come here in the past, so I’m happy he even came this far. )

( Still, we can’t just sit still here forever either. I wonder if there isn’t some kind of effective method to get him moving...? )

...Right!

Um, Shuu-san?

Shuu: Hm...?

Yui: There’s carriages over on the other side, so why don’t we take one of those to head to the city area?

I’m sure it will be much easier than going on foot.

Shuu: ...Aah, good point.

I can continue sleeping for a little while longer inside the vehicle as well.

...Let’s go then.

ー Shuu walks ahead

Yui: ...Yes!

ー The scene shifts to Glimmer Street’s main area

Yui: ( So this is the city...? )

( The townscape has somewhat of an unfamiliar vibe to it. Although I suppose that makes sense since this isn’t the human world. )

Shuu: I barely got any sleep because the carriage shook a lot more than I expected.

Haah...What a drag...

Yui: I’m sorry.

Shuu: You don’t need to apologize, really.

ーー So, what should we do next? We came here for you, so you’re coming up with our plan.

Yui: Um...

For starters, I would like to drop by Bernstein castle once.

So...Um...Will you come with me...?

Shuu: Nah.

ーー But if I say that, I would have come all the way here for nothing.

The castle’s that way.

Yui: Y-Yes!

ー The scene shifts to the frontside of the wagons

Yui: ( It has gotten more crowded. )

( The atmosphere is a little different from the Carnival as well. )

( ...Hm? Actually, now that I think about it... )

Shuu: ...Oi. You’ve been quiet this whole time...Do you have something on your mind?

Yui: Ah...You see...

Back during the Carnival, I remember having to constantly run away from trouble, but this time everything seems fine.

Shuu: Of course. Your heart has been stolen, so the usual scent of your blood is different.

Even the tasteーー

*Rustle*

Yui: Wah...!

ー Shuu drags her into a side alley

Shuu: ...Nn...Haah...

Yui: ( This...suddenly... )

Shuu: ...

Nn...

...Haah...Just as I thought, it tastes completely different as well.

With the Kleinod put inside of you in replacement of your heart, you are currently neither human nor Vampire.

So your blood is very mediocre, tasting somewhere in between both species. Like this, nobody will even think of targeting you.

We wouldn’t make the extra effort to drink bad blood after all.

Yui: T-Then why did you drink it....? You should have known all of that...

Shuu: ...Good question. Why don’t you try and come up with the answer by yourself?

Well, depending on how you look at it, this isn’t too bad of a situation, is it?

If you stay this way, you’ll no longer be chased down by Vampires.

Yui: You do have a point. But...

According to Reiji-san, Kleinods are unreliable...

If it stops working, then...

( If that happens, I will die. )

Shuu: Rest assured.

When that happens, I’ll turn you into a Vampire.

So there’s nothing to worry about.

Yui: ...Shuu-san...

( Into a Vampire, huh? )

( It would mean I get to live another day. )

( I’m sure this is Shuu-san’s way of showing kindness. )

( It makes me very happy. But... )

( If I get turned into a Vampire, I will no longer be human. )

( When I consider that... )

...

Shuu: ...What?

Yui: ( ...I should tell Shuu-san how I genuinely feel about this. I don’t want to lie to him after all. )

Um, I...

I can’t say with confidence that I would become a Vampire just to save my own life.

I’ve always been a human after all...

Shuu: Heeh...

...I see.

But why do you seem that hesitant then?

Yui: ...That’s...Well...

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( Oh no, I can’t put it into words very well... )

Shuu: ...Whatever.

For now, we should hurry ahead.

ー Shuu walks away

Yui: Ah...!

( Now it just feels as if we got into an argument... )

ー The scene shifts back to Glimmer Street’s main area

Shuu: ...

Yui: ...

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( ...Shuu-san hasn’t spoken a word ever since. I guess he’s upset after all, huh? )

( What should I do...? )

*THUD*

Yui: Wah!?

Stall owner: Uwah!?

*Thud thud*

Yui: ( O-Oh no! The goods...! )

Stall owner: Ahー... I can no longer sell these now.

Yui: I-I’m terribly sorry! I wasn’t paying attention and...

Shuu: ...Haah. What are you doing...?

Yui: ( Uu, Shuu-san seems completely done with me as well. )

Stall owner: No worries, don’t seem upset.

Yui: Eh...?

Stall owner: Only a few things fell on the ground. It’s no big deal, really.

More importantly...Is something weighing heavy on your mind? You were walking while lost in thought, no?

Have one of these candies and cheer up, okay?

These bat lollies are very popular here in the Demon World.

The gentleman over there is your boyfriend, isn’t he? If you’re fighting, you should give him one of these to make up.

Yui: Eh!? Y-Yes...!

Stall owner: Until we meet again...

ー The stall owner leaves with his cart

Yui: Ah...!

( He disappeared into the crowd almost instantly. )

( That being said...What a nice guy. )

( I would love to properly thank him one day. )

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( Ah...Shuu-san waited for me...? )

( I got this lolly now anyway, so might as well... )

( I wonder if I can really use this to make it up to him, just like that mister said? )

Um...Shuu-san, please, go ahead and have one.

( Will he accept it...? )

Shuu: ...

Thanks. (1)

Yui: N-No problem!

( Thank god! )

Shuu: Heeh...This lolly seems quite well-made. Hm...

...It doesn’t taste bad either.

Yui: ( For some reason...Like this, Shuu-san always seems like a child. )

Shuu: ...What?

Yui: N-Nothing!

Shuu: Well, okay then.

...Why don’t you give it a try as well?

Yui: Eh? ...Can I?

Shuu: I wouldn’t offer otherwise. Here.

Yui: Ah, thank you very much.

...You’re right, it’s delicious!

Shuu: Told you? It’s not half bad.

If you like it, why not have some more?

Selection

→ You should have it (☾)

Yui: I’m good, so you should have it.

Shuu: ...Oh. You don’t actually like it then, do you?

Yui: That’s not it, um...

I want you to have it exactly because I think it’s so delicious. I was hoping it would cheer you up at least a little.

Shuu: Hm...

I’ll take it then.

Yui: Yes.

Shuu: Ah, butーー

ー Shuu moves closer to kiss her

*Smooch*

Shuu: ...

Yui: ...!?

Shuu: I can share the sweetness with you like this.

Yui: ( H-He surprised me! But...I’m happy. )

→ Just a little more then

Yui: Just a few more bites then...Nom...

( Yeah, it really is good! )

Shuu: Haha...

Yui: Why are you laughing?

Shuu: No...You just seem so happy while eating that sweet treat.

Yui: ( Uu, it’s actually a little embarrassing now that I think about it... )

( But... )

Yui: ( I can assume things are good between the two of us again now, right...? )

Shuu: ...

...I guess you could say good things come when you least expect them. (2)

Yui: Yeah. My thoughts exactly. I would have never thought I’d get a treat for bumping into his cart.

Shuu: No, that’s not what I meant.

I’m talking about the smile that candy brought to your face.

You should always smile like that.

Yui: Shuu-san...

Shuu: About what I said...You really shouldn’t worry about having to choose between being a human or Vampire.

I’m sure I wouldn’t know what to say if someone suddenly told me to become a human either.

Yui: ( I didn’t think he’d be so understanding... )

Shuu: ...Come on, let’s get going now.

*Rustle*

Shuu: Give me your hand. You’re a horrible airhead, so I’ll hold it.

Yui: ( Wah...! Shuu-san grabbed my hand. )

Shuu: Good grief...Everywhere is overflowing with people.

Seems like it will take a while to get to the castle like this.

...What a drag...

Yui: ( He may say that but... )

( Personally, I’d love to stay like this just a little longer if possible... )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the gate in front of Bernstein castle

Yui: ( So this is Bernstein castle? It’s very impressive... )

Shuu: Doesn’t seem like we can get inside. The gates obviously won’t open and there appears to be some sort of barrier set up as well.

We might be able to sneak our way in if you could fly, but that would be asking for the impossible.

Yui: Yes...

Shuu: Well, I knew this would happen from the very beginning though.

The Count prides himself on never having a single treasure taken back from him.

In other words, he must have taken measures to ensure nobody can get inside his castle.

Even so, I assumed we would have been able to find at least one opening as long as we got close enough...

However, it seems it was naive of me to think that.

Yui: ( I see... )

So we’re out of luck...?

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( What should we do...? )

Shuu: ...Say.

Let me ask you just one thing. Do you truly want to get your heart back?

Yui: Eh...?

Shuu: Just answer me. Do you want to retrieve it or not...?

Yui: I...

I want it back.

Shuu: ...I see.

Gotcha.

ー Shuu suddenly walks away

Yui: S-Shuu-san!? Where are you going...!?

Shuu: ーー To an inn.

Yui: Heh...?

Shuu: Just standing around here won’t get us anywhere, will it?

So I’m going to an inn.

I’ll think of a plan there.

Yui: Shuu-san...!

Shuu: I didn’t give up on you. Rest assured.

Yui: Thank you very much!

Shuu: No need to thank me. You are always way too modest.

Come on, let’s go.

Yui: Yes...!

ー The scene shifts to the lobby of Hotel Mondstein 

Yui: ( I’m a little nervous... )

Hotel staff: Excuse me, sir. You would like a room for two for tonight, correct?

Shuu: Yes. 

For me and my wife.

Hotel staff: Noted. We will get everything ready, so please wait over there until then...

Yui: ...U-Um, Shuu-san...

Are you sure you should have called me your wife?

Shuu: Yeah. Got a problem with it?

Yui: N-No, not really...

( It just felt a little embarrassing... )

Hotel staff: ーー My sincere apologies for the wait. I shall escort you to your room.

Shuu: Yeah.

Yui: ( Phew...That made my heart skip a beat. )

ー The scene shifts to their room

Yui: What a lovely room...

Shuu: You think so? Seems pretty mediocre to me.

...Haah...

ー Shuu lies down on the bed

*Thud*

Yui: ( Ah, geez, Shuu-san. He just plopped down on the bed right away. )

Shuu: I’m exhausted...Just order some room service for now. Whatever strikes your fancy.

They should have a special menu available only during the Parade as well.

Yui: Fufu, okay. Please leave the order up to me.

( Um, the menu card is... )

*Flip*

Yui: Wah...!

( What a delicious-looking dinner! )

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( The afternoon tea inspired by the Parade is very cute too. )

Shuu: ...

Yui: Huh? Shuu-san...? Aren’t you going to sleep?

Or rather...Did you chuckle just now?

Shuu: I was astounded by how happy you looked.

Yui: ( D-Did I get a little too excited? I should calm down... )

Shuu: So, have you decided on what to get?

Yui: Um...I’ll order the afternoon tea then, okay?

( Phew... )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( Order complete. )

Shuu: ...

Yui: Shuu-san? Are you no longer tired?

Shuu: No, I’m sleepy.

I’m gonna take a nap so come here.

*Rustle*

Yui: Wah!

( He pulled me into his arms. )

U-Um...?

Shuu: Keep quiet. Body pillows shouldn’t talk.

Yui: ( Uu...This is embarrassing! )

( However, I should keep quiet for his sake. )

Shuu: ...Perfect.

...Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: Ah!?

Shuu: I told you to keep quiet, no?

Yui: ( No fair... )

Shuu: ...Nn...

*Smooch*

*Knock knock*

Yui: ( The room service is here! )

S-Shuu-san. You have to let go...

Shuu: Why?

Yui: Why, you ask...?

Shuu: They can just come in if they need us.

*Knock knock*

Shuu: ーー The door’s unlocked!

Hotel staff: Pardon the intrusion.

ー The lady enters the room

Hotel staff: I have brought your orーー!?

Yui: ( S-She saw us. )

Hotel staff: ...I have brought your order.

Shuu: Set everything up on the balcony, please.

Hotel staff: As you wish.

*Cling cling*

Yui: ( Uu...How embarrassing... )

Hotel staff: Now if you would excuse me.

ー She leaves again 

Yui: S-Shuu-san! Why would you do this...!?

Shuu: What do you mean ‘this’?

Yui: Y-You know...This...As if you’re trying to show off...

Shuu: I didn’t just ‘try’, I actually did mean to do that though?

Yui: ...!

Shuu: Haha...Your face’s bright red.

Yui: G-Gosh! Don’t tease me!

Shuu: You’re to blame for always falling for it.

ー Shuu gets up from the bed

Shuu: Anyway, hurry up to the balcony.

We’re going to set up a plan over a cup of tea.

Yui: ( Haah, he has me completely following his lead... (3) )

ー The scene shifts to the balcony

Shuu: ...I actually remembered something.

Yui: Remembered...?

Shuu: Yeah.

*Cling*

Shuu: I happen to know a Vampire who is very knowledgeable on the Count.

Yui: ...!

Shuu: If we hit him up, he might be able to tell us a way to get your heart back from the Count.

It’s just...There’s one little problem.

Yui: A problem...?

Shuu: ...You’ll get it once we get there, don’t worry.

Yui: ( I wonder what he means? )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the gondola dock

Yui: ( I wonder what kind of place it is if we have to go there by gondola...? )

ー The scene shifts to the middle of the mountains

Yui: T-This is...quite the creepy area, isn’t it?

Is someone truly living here?

Shuu: If my memory serves me correctly.

ー Shuu starts walking

Yui: ( I should just follow Shuu-san for now. )

ー Yui follows suit

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( We’ve gone quite far into the mountains already... )

( I don’t think I could make it back to the gondolas by myself. The path is bumpy as well... )

Shuu: Haah...What a drag...

Yui: ( Shuu-san...He may complain, but he continues walking on regardless. )

( I shouldn’t be the one lagging behind then. I have to push through! )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( We’ve walked for quite some time since then, but I still can’t see the end... )

...This acquaintance of yours lives quite far away, doesn’t he? 

Shuu: ...

Yui: ...? Shuu-san?

Shuu: ...Haah. 

ーー We got lost.

Yui: Eeh!?

( T-That possibility briefly crossed my mind but no way...! What now!? )

ー The scene shifts to a cave

Shuu: Haah...We should get some rest here for the night.

Yui: Y-Yeah.

( We really lucked out to find a cave nearby. )

*HOOOOOWL*

Yui: ...!

Shuu: ...

ー Shuu hugs her close

*Rustle*

Yui: ( H-He embraced me...! )

Shuu: If any wild beasts get in, I can simply chase them back out.

So, you know...Don’t worry.

Yui: Shuu-san...

Shuu: Once we get your heart back, I don’t mind keeping you company at the Parade or whatever.

You like that sorta stuff, don’t you?

Yui: Yeah...!

( There’s no reason to be anxious. I...have Shuu-san by my side after all. )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) もらっとく or ‘morratoku’ literally means ‘I’ll accept it (in preparation of something else’. I could have translated it as  ‘I’ll take it’ as well, but personally I felt like this was Shuu-san’s way of thanking her. The boys tend to take the roundabout way when expressing their feelings after all.

(2) The idiom 棚から牡丹餅 or ‘tana kara botamochi’ literally means ‘red bean mochi falls from the shelf’ and refers to an unexpected streak of luck.

(3) If you get caught up in someone else’s ‘pace’, it means that you are at their mercy, simply following along as the other person decides what you will do.

← RETURN TO PROLOGUE

→ PROCEED WITH MAIN STORY [CHAPTER 2]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #1 [W/ REIJI]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #2 [W/ LAITO]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #3 [W/ YUMA]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #4 [W/ CARLA]

[queenmuzz]

Heat of the Moment

A Dante x Reader Valentine’s Day Special!

Your mom had always told everyone, in a disapproving tone, that you were too impulsive for your own good.  You darted into the road to get a runaway ball.  You bought that awesome looking jacket, without checking to see if it was on sale.  And now, because you were craving pizza, and didn’t want to shell out the four bucks extra for delivery, you were in a mighty fine pickle.

You decided that taking the deserted looking street at near midnight, just to shave a few minutes off your walk to Angelo’s Pizzeria was a perfectly splendid idea.  So splendid, you didn’t notice the shadowy figures following you, until you were grabbed from behind, and a cloth covered with some sort of chemical was placed over your screaming mouth.

So now, here you stood, or rather...laid, on cold grey stone, that seemed to leech all warmth away from your flesh.  It was still dark, but illuminated by torches, you seemed to be surrounded by columns of stone, like you were in some knock off kid sized version of Stonehenge.  You immediately attempted to get up, only to find to your irritation, your wrists and ankles were bound by industrial grade chains.   

“The offering has awoken!” called out a woman’s voice, and from the darkness, like the damn Ringwraiths from Lord of the Rings, nine cloaked figures came out of the darkness.  You tried to make out their faces, but both their pitch black cloaks, and blood red masks hid everything about them.

“Brothers and Sisters, we are gathered here tonight to call forth from the very bones of the earth, a power far greater than any human can imagine.  The stars have aligned, the incense has been lit.  All now,” she motioned to the cultist beside her, who handed her a leatherbound book, “Is to speak the incantations, and complete the rituals.”

And then, with the help of her assistant, the group began to chant.  You had no idea of what was being spoken, but it sounded Latin. 

“Really... Latin?  Guys, there are a tonne of other languages you could use!  What happened to originality?!” you grumbled, but while you could feel their glares, none stopped their inane chants

Upon each pillar,  a letter lit up, one at a time.  You couldn’t recognize the script, but it looked like a five year old’s attempt to write Hebrew. For some reason, that irked you. This makes no sense.  Latin is an Indo-European language, and Hebrew is a totally different family! These idiots are mixing everything up!.

But the incantation seemed to do the trick, and the flames grew, and changed to a sickly green colour.  And now, all these cultists raised their arms in exultation 

“Lord of the Underworld, we present you this offering, a Virgin Offering, for you to consume!” The lead cultist chanted.

“Wait!” you blurted out, in a desperate attempt to avert your fate, “I’m not a virgin!  I’ve had sex before, dozens...no, hundreds of times!”

Her assistant leaned over you, their mask barely concealing his skepticism.

“Name one person you have laid with,” he tested.

“Well…” Your mind was blank, and so you went with the first thing that shot through your brain.

“Your mom, for starters.”

You could have slapped yourself for such a dumb comeback, had your wrists not being tied up, but you needn’t have worried about not getting slapped.  The cultist’s lips twisted into a snarl, and you felt white hot pain radiating from your cheek, and the taste of blood filling your mouth.  Even though it hurt like hell, one part of you was mentally high fiving at that comeback.  His hand raised up one more time, to give another strike, but the leader quickly grabbed his wrist.

“Calm yourself, brother… the offering must remain undamaged. Besides,” and you could swear you  heard a smirk in her voice, “It’s not their body that must be virginal, it’s the blood.”

Well shit, you thought, as you placed your burning cheek against the cool stone to relieve the pain.  

The ritual continued.  “We humble servants provide both the firstfruits of this offering to open the way.”  The woman took out a jet black dagger, and approached you with steady steps.  Would she cut out your heart, Temple of Doom style?  Rip out your entrails?  Slit your throat?  All you could hope was that it would be quick and painless.  

What you hadn’t expected was for her to grab one of your restrained hands and with surprisingly gentleness placed the edge of the obsidian blades against your palm.

As she dragged the razor sharp edge, a line of crimson bloomed, like a trail of bubbles.  It almost didn’t hurt, but you couldn’t help but get upset.  All this pomp and ceremony, and they were just giving you a cut that would irritate you for weeks...if you lived that long. Whatever happens, you said as the cultist began using your blood to paint the two largest stone pillars, in a perverse parody of the Passover ritual, I hope whatever these bastards are summoning crushes them.

“COME FORTH!” The whole group chanted in unison, “Taste the blood… DEVOUR THE FLESH!”

And without warning, the blood...YOUR blood, burst into flame, racing up the pillars as if gasoline had been pumping through your veins.  At the top, the flames connected and  formed a gateway...a hellgate.  And within it, an orb, an inferno expanded...and a roar that sounded nothing like any earthbound animal emanated.

And then, an explosion of heat and sulfur knocked down the stones, and the cultists, sending the leader flying back several feet.  Only you, chained to the granite altar, remained in place.

You squinted as the searing light dissipated.  Among the now dying flames stood, or hovered… a demonic sight.  You could swear you saw the air distort from the heat that seemed to generate from within his chest.  Four leathery wings splayed out, the inner skin swirling designs constantly shifting, almost hypnotising.  And the horns!  A good foot long that curved  and twisted, glowing like charred wood both above and around his face. A face that reminded what was in front of you.  A demon.  Teeth as long and sharp as paring knives, eyes glowing like the pits of hell.  As if Satan himself had come up from the depths.  And for all you knew… he probably had.

You heard the sound of crumpled paper.  “Oh man,” the demon rumbled, his voice distorted by the sound of the exhaust coming from between his teeth, “I was just getting to the good part…”

“Oh Great and Powerful Lord…”  the devil stared at the surrounding area, at the the cultists that had recovered began following their leader’s motions and bowed prostrate on the ground, and you still chained.  It was hard to make out his expression, but it seemed like...surprise?

 “We are your most humble servants,” the leader continued,  “All we ask...is a scrap of your power...a trifle for one such as you, as payment for summoning you..My Lord?”

The demon didn’t even spare a second glance as he strode past her, past the other shrouded forms, and made a beeline towards you.  This was it, you thought, time to come up with a witty parting remark. But of course, your impulsive nature wouldn’t cooperate right now.  At least the demon seemed to be the ‘fire and fury’ style, he would probably consume you quickly.

He towered over you, and even now, the stone, which had been ice cold the entire time, began to heat up beneath you...sweat, both from terror, and the inferno looming above you,  beaded on your forehead.  

“My Lord?” the assistant asked, “Is the offering suitable for your arrival?  They have a wicked tongue, but they are perfect for summoning.

“I think you got it all wrong buddy,” the demon turned his eyes on the unholy congregation, and strangely, a chill appeared in the air, “You guys didn’t summon me….” A razor claw extended out and pointed at you, “THEY did… and if they summoned me…” the cultists slowly became aware of what he was implying, the quicker ones started making a run for it, “YOU guys must be the offering!  Who’s volunteering first?”

The answer was nine sets of panicking feet trying to sprint out of the stone circle.  The demon glanced back at you, “You might want to cover your eyes for this, it’s gonna get a little messy,” and with the speed of a racing forest fire, he charged, blades of superheated air swirling around him.  

The scream of the lead cultist was enough for you to clench your eyes shut, and then followed by a multiple of cries of terror and death, as the coppery scent of blood, not your own this time, scented the air.

A few minutes later, there was nothing but silence, except the sound of boots on gravel.  You couldn’t help it, you took a peek.

Instead of the cultists, or the demon, there was just a guy, shaggy white haired, with a worn t-shirt that clung juuuuust right against his broad chest, and a smile on his face.  You looked around, trying to find either a surviving cultist, or the demon, but all you could see in the darkness were void black shapes, lying on the grounds, their robes moving slightly in the breeze.

“That can’t be comfortable, let’s get you out of there,” the man said, and without a hint of effort, he gently grasped your hands, and with the other, he gave a quick yank.  Immediately the sound of snapping metal, and to your amazement, your arms were free.  And if you had thought he had done a sleight of hand with those chains, the way he effortlessly ripped the chains around your ankles off immediately clued you in that this man was more than he seemed.

You rubbed your wrists as you slowly sat up, staring at him. “Who are...you?”

“Ah, yeah...forgot to introduce myself in the whole hubbub.  Cultists always ruining get togethers.”  He stuck out his hand, “Name’s Dante.”  And as you shook his hand, with your uninjured one, you noticed that for a brief moment,  his eyes momentarily glowed red, like embers.  Embers that had once been blazing coals.

He must have seen the flash of panic in your eyes, because he backed away, his hands raised in surrender. 

“Don’t worry!  I ain’t going to hurt you… yeah, I’m the demon those jackasses called for” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “but I’m not the ‘MUST RULE THE WORLD’ type, I usually am the one people call to get rid of what was being summoned, not actually BEING the ‘sommonee.’  Wait, is that the correct term?”  He paused for a moment to think it over, before he seemed to come back to the present. “Anyways, I was just relaxing in my office, reading a magazine, and then POOF, I’m in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by people with horrible sense of fashion.  Speaking of my magazine...where did I put it?”

You saw the magazine, its pages fluttering in the wind, and picked it up.  A copy of ‘Half Cocked’, and on its cover, a buxom young brunette was getting a bit too friendly with a revolver,  alongside a well toned man wearing little more than a bandolier.

“Oh thanks!… that” he quickly snatched it out of your hands,  “I read it mainly for the articles…” he explained lamely, before hurriedly shoving it in his back pocket, as he looked you up and down. “Besides...I got a feeling I won’t need it much anymore…”  And in the flaming remnants of ritual, you swore you saw him turn a shade of pink...although that could just be the fire.

“Welp,”  He stretched, “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?  All that work made me famished.”

You had no idea where the hell you were, but you were still ravenously hungry.  Which reminded you how you got into this mess in the first place.

“I could go for some pizza or-”

You felt a blaze of warmth, and suddenly you felt your legs swept under you, and you looked up at Dante, now back to his demonic form carrying you bridal style.  But no longer did it strike fear in you, just a sense of awe...and admiration

“You truly know how to get to this demon’s heart,” he practically purred, and with a slight grunt, he leapt up and started flying towards the nearest collection of lights on the horizon.  “Pizza it is, then!”

Despite the remnant of chill from spending God knows how long on that stone, and the brisk breeze of the upper atmosphere blowing past you, you didn’t feel a little bit cold. It was like being held by a flying furnace.

“You know Dante….” you spoke, barely audible above the wind.

“Hm?”

“You’re pretty hot.”  Instantly, you realized what you had said, and would have preferred him to just drop you to your death at this very moment.

You heard him chuckle.

“Yeah, this form runs a bit warm….”

And even though he didn’t say it, you were almost certain he knew exactly what you meant.

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

Team Chaotix found out how to Time-Travel and are (probably?) using their powers for good

[I.D.: Screenshot of Shadow the Hedgehog, the cutscene before “Mad Matrix.” Shadow approaches Team Chaotix, standing in front of Eggman’s computer. Vector says “Well, we need your help to hack into [Eggman’s] computer... and don’t ask why!” End I.D.] 

What a title, huh? Let me complicate this more by explaining this is going to deal near exclusively with the 2005 game Shadow the Hedgehog and Chaotix’s role in it. 

My thesis statement for this is as thus: In Shadow the Hedgehog, all endings are actually technically canon; the universe was reset back at the end of them all until the True Ending was reached, and the universe was reset by none other than Team Chaotix. 

Is this theory going to make at least two insane reaches? Yes. Is it a crack theory? uuuuuuuuh depends on how people react to it 

So, let’s get into the logistics of how and why I think this went down.

Part One: What was Team Chaotix’s Mission?

Team Chaotix appears very briefly in ShTH; Charmy is on a solo mission on “Prison Island,” the whole team seems to be in “Mad Matrix” with Vector in  “Cosmic Fall”, and they appear briefly aboard the ARK at the end of the game. (Which... I don’t think they left? Were they up there when Shadow isolated himself inside? Is that why he wasn’t gone for long, did he get sick of their shit and pilot them back to the planet--) 

The point is, from the few appearances of the team in the game, we know that they are on a mission, one so secret/confidential that no team members tell anyone what it is- even Charmy, who has the impulse control of a kid left alone in a room with a million buttons. 

Of course, with their appearances, we can figure out some elements of their mission, and it becomes quite clear that their mission has something to do with the Space Colony ARK. 

Charmy’s solo mission, for starters, in “Prison Island.” Charmy is there to collect five discs from GUN, discs that I don’t believe the player ever finds out the contents of. 

[I.D.: Three screenshots from Shadow the Hedgehog, of Charmy’s dialogue in the “Prison Island” stage. He says, “Heeey, Shadow! I gotta ask you something! Vector told me that he wants to find five top secret discks... but, like... what’s a top secret disk?” End i.D.]

As the Hero Route of Prison Island immediately transitions to “Mad Matrix”, the implication is the GUN discs have something to do with hacking into Eggman’s computer. 

Oh, yeah, the team needed to hack into the files of Eggman’s computer, with Espio having to gather data himself. Again, what they were looking for is never revealed, but Vector insists that it’s urgent. 

[I.D.: Screenshots from the beginning of the “Mad Matrix” cutscene. Espio is sitting at a computer, attempting to hack. Vector says, “Are you done yet? At this rate, the entire day will be wasted.” Espio turns and says, “Hey, back off! Data retrieval isn’t exactly my specialty.” End i.D.]

Vector attempts to locate the ARK’s computer room, again for no stated reason. 

[I.D.: Vector at the beginning of the “Cosmic Fall” route. He says to Shadow, “We’ve got to make it to the computer room before this place collapses!” End I.D.]

Upon it being found in the True Ending, Team Chaotix once again hack inside the computer. After Gerald’s video begins playing, we don’t see them again. 

So, to recap: they are all gathering information from GUN- which was pretty much the only organization with any information on the colony- and Eggman, a member of the Robotnik family; with the fact they were later on the ARK and stealing GUN documents, it’s likely they were looking for information on Gerald on Eggman’s computer. 

So, while we don’t have the explicit mission, we can clarify that it definitely has something to do with the ARK. An important question, though, which might be able to clarify their entire mission, is who is their client? 

Part Two: Who Sent Team Chaotix on this mission?

Team Chaotix’s missions are almost exclusively client-based, and even if we say that they don’t have one, there has to be something that tipped them off that they needed to get to the ARK. 

The client themself is a bit of a mystery- it can’t be any non-chaotix main character, as literally nobody seems wise to what they’re up to. And considering Charmy was, uh, pretty much literally stealing GUN files, we can safely assume they’re not working for GUN. 

But their client had to be someone who knew there was important information on the ARK, which was pretty much unknown to everyone before SA2, and afterwards, even if we assume the ARK incident is common knowledge, there has to be something specific the Chaotix were sent after. 

And something important. 

In case you haven’t played ShTH, during the entire game, the world is being attacked by demon aliens intent on murdering and eating everything on the planet while also setting it on fire. You’d think that Chaotix would want to deal with that above a relatively unimportant mission. So whatever they were doing was more important than fighting/hiding from/investigating the apocalyptic monsters attacking them. 

What would be important than the, as I said, apocalyptic demon monsters? 

Potentially... a way to stop them. 

[I.D.: Screenshots from a cutscene in the Last Story. Team Chaotix are attempting to hack into the ARK’s computer. Vector says, “Espio, we need you to focus, cuz if we don’t hurry all the data we recovered will be lost.” End I.D.]

So. You know how in every one of my metas there’s a part where I leap off the deep end? 

Let me just say this outright. 

What if the one who sent them on their mission... was none other than Gerald Robotnik?

So, here’s my mission statement. 

Gerald Robotnik, sensing that something bad was going to happen on the ARK, made his video message for Shadow. We know this because of, you know, the content of the message. 

After the ARK massacre, Gerald obviously cracked, but left behind some hint of the video’s existence, or a hint of a way to defeat the Black Arms that nobody picked up cause nobody knew they existed except the people on the ARK. Who, you know, GUN massacred. Thanks GUN. 

What the hint exactly was I’m not sure-- in Sonic X he wrote a shitton of stuff on the walls of his prison island jail cell, maybe he left something there. [Something to note-- Sonic X begun airing before production of ShTH, and it second and third seasons, the ones featuring Shadow, would probably be being made while ShTH was in production.] 

[I.D.: Screenshots from Sonic X of Gerald Robotnik’s prison island cell, which has multiple scientific notes scribbled across the walls. End I.D.]

We already know the Chaotix know of Prison Island and can get there from Charmy’s appearance in his route, so them being there and seeing something left behind isn’t impossible. 

So this hint was discovered by the Chaotix, who pieced together that this ARK message would give the information needed to defeat the Black Arms-- I believe they knew that there was a message specifically, as they seem unsurprised and happy when the message appears at the end of the game, meaning it was among the things they were looking for, if not the only thing. They also figured out that the only one who could defeat said Black Arms was Shadow. Hence why they’re not only hacking into the computers of two Robotniks, but they, in different timelines, accompany and assist Shadow in his little angst party missions. 

[I.D.: Screenshots from the end of the “Cosmic Fall” Hero Route. As Shadow walks away, depressed that he’s what he considers a failed experiment, Vector says, “Hey... don’t go there... yet! Things may not be what they seem. You could be...” End I.D.]

But then why wouldn’t they tell Shadow what they were up to? Sure, he has amnesia, so you can’t just say “your granddad might have a secret way to kill the demon aliens,” but you could say “we think there’s a message for you.” So why didn’t they? 

Because, my dear friends, they only have twenty-four hours, and it takes quite a while to explain and prove time travel to an amnesiac hedgehog. 

Part Three: What Route leads to the True Ending? The Time Travel One 

Here’s where we get into crack. 

Let’s put everything together and then go into Connie’s HellBrainMode™

The Chaotix’s mission is so secret that either they didn’t dare tell Charmy, or the ADHD 6yo understood that he had to shut up for once (and I say that with love) and thus not a single one of them dares reveal it. 

The Mission definitely pertains to the ARK, Black Arms, Robotnik Family, and Shadow. 

The Chaotix vaguely knew of the message that was needed to defeat the aliens, and so they were attempting to hack Robotnik computers to find it. 

For some reason, they don’t even tell Shadow what’s up, even though due to their penchant for traveling with him and protecting him, they likely are aware he’s a bit important at the moment. 

...so why does Shadow the Hedgehog have so many endings anyway? 

On that last point... ShTH has an insane amount of routes, but really only eleven endings, with #11 being the final, canon ending. But all the endings are plausible routes, no matter how goddamn dark they can get. It seems the only thing that separates the endings is Shadow’s choices; whether he remains neutral, assists the Black Arms, or fights for Earth. Of course, the true ending involves him fighting for Earth, his friends, and Maria’s final wish, but the path he takes over the day of the Black Arms invasion needs to lead him there. 

Does that mean he must follow a Hero route to reach that? By the time he gathers all the chaos emeralds, he can’t be in the depths of despair or convinced he’s an android, etc.; he’s definitely not in one of the endings where Eggman or Sonic die, seeing as they help him out in the True Ending. So if Eggman and Sonic are alive and Shadow’s not literally losing all hope in everything, we have to assume neither a Dark nor Neutral route was taken, as Dark tends to end with dead Sonic and Neutral tends to end with Dead Eggman. 

Something interesting-- several Hero Routes involve helping the Chaotix. Gathering the discs for Charmy, helping Espio collect necessary data, helping Vector find the infamous computer room... Of course, most Hero Routes involve helping your friends when you see them, but the Chaotix specifically are looking for GUN/Ark/Robotnik/BlackArms information. While they will not share this information with Shadow, helping them puts him on the Hero Route, aka closer to the True Ending. 

But which ending leads to the true ending? None of them, and yet all of them. 

None of them end in the place where the true ending begins-- Shadow alone with the Chaos Emeralds, ready to discover the truth about his past, and about to be ambushed by an uninjured Black Doom while his friends are about to burst in to try and save him, having apparently discovered more about what’s happening. 

Hero endings end with Shadow defeating Black Doom earlier, Neutral ends with depressed Shadow and dead Eggman, Dark ends with angry Shadow and dead Sonic. So a whole nother timeline was taken. Then what was the point of the first ten? 

Well, through the first ten, you do learn certain information, don’t you? So who’s to say someone else going through the first ten endings wouldn’t learn something as well? If someone could, say, reset the day to the beginning every time Shadow has an angst moment and fails to save the world, and then use what they learned the last time in order to try and steer Shadow on a better path... 

And in the True Ending, when Shadow and his friends are attacked by Black Doom, Shadow hears voices in his head-- voices from several different routes. Almost as if something in his mind clicks, something that feeds every route into him to make a final decision. 

[I.D.: Gif from the Last Story of Shadow the Hedgehog; Shadow is on the ground, and voices are heard, represented here by captions, which read, in order: “I will avenge those whose blood has been spilled!” “Did I... die?” “That’s why you were created...” and “Please help me, Shadow.” End I.D.] 

So what route leads to the last ending? All of them. All of them, so that the information gathered... gets the Chaotix on the ARK. To get the message out to Shadow. 

Part Four: The Timeline of the Chaotix Time Travel 

Every route begins with the same cutscene-- the beginning of the day, as the Black Arms invade... as their comet gets close enough to reach the planet. Let’s say, hmm, Gerald, for example, realized something might go horribly wrong when the Black Arms showed up if Shadow was traumatized and confused, and tried to make some kind of safeguard. The safeguard ended up being a reset button,* but it relied on the position of the Black Arms’ comet-- so thus, you can only reset to the beginning of its approach. The beginning of the day. And only the one(s) pressing the button remembers the reset, that could be an issue. 

*Note: we’re using “reset button” as a general term, obviously it doesn’t have to be a literal button. 

The Chaotix break into the remains of Prison Island sometime before the Black Arms attack; perhaps they sensed something was up, perhaps they noticed some weird stuff was going on, who knows. But they get in there, and find Gerald’s notes, and figure out some important stuff-- the Black Arms are invading, there’s a way to stop them on the ARK, and... oh, what’s this, this thing that the GUN scientists could never figure out how to use but hid away in case they figured it out one day. It’s a comet reset button? 

Oh, comet, like the one right overhead-- oops. 

The Chaotix are unable to stop the comet from arriving in the first place. So Vector puts together all the pieces-- “ultimate lifeform,” fifty-year timeskiip, whatever hints Gerald left-- and figures out that, likely, Gerald knew about the Black Arms, how to stop them, and that his ultimate lifeform, Shadow, is the key to saving the planet. 

He sends Charmy to retrieve discs from GUN involving the ARK and Gerald on Prison Island, and then sets Espio to hacking into Eggman’s systems. Once they’ve got the info they need, they hop on a spaceship and race to the ARK. Thing is... each of these steps could go wrong in any way. Charmy doesn’t find the discs, Espio can’t reach the data, Vector can’t find the computer room, they fail to reach the ARK, or, above all, Shadow shows up and fucks up their shit. 

Thankfully, the Chaotix have the day reset. Every time the planet starts to go to shit, Vector resets. Shadow just killed Sonic? Reset it, now, before those demons crash into Earth. Omega just texted Rouge to tell her that Shadow is convinced he’s destined to lead a robot uprising? Reset. Shadow is depressed thinking he’s a failed experiment that never should have been created and thus literally falls into such a state he can’t or won’t fight the Black Arms? Gotta reset that shit. They reset at least ten times, each time gaining more information and figuring out what they have to do. Charmy gets Shadow’s help in one route, then in the next timeline repeat remembers the locations. Espio knows how to break into Eggman’s computer. Vector figures out where they need to go. They figure out where the Chaos Emeralds are and where and when to get them to Shadow. 

The eleventh and final reset begins, and Chaotix informs the Sonic Squad that the Black Arms need the Chaos Emeralds to destroy the planet and that they need to go keep an eye on Shadow. Somehow they get Eggman onboard-- idk they probably just namedropped Gerald and he listened to whatever they had to say. Once they’re sent off, they rush to the ARK. 

Shadow, in the Last Route, has gathered the Chaos Emeralds off the ARK, somewhere on the below planet. Everyone else is on Earth, including Sonic, Black Doom, Eggman... 

Everyone but the Chaotix. 

The Chaotix, who continue working on this Big Case even after the Black Comet has descended through Earth’s atmosphere and the Black Arms are killing everyone on the planet. 

The Chaotix, who are trying to hack into Gerald’s computer, looking for something important. 

The Chaotix, who show absolutely no surprise or concern when Gerald’s message appears, implying that this could be what they were looking for. 

The Chaotix, who are not seen again after the message is played. 

Because their work is done. 

Shadow’s choices lead him to make the right decision, but that final push he needs to defeat Black Doom is Gerald and Maria’s message. And once it’s played, he saves the goddamn world. 

And then is stuck on the ARK with the Chaotix until the next game. Oops. 

[etheralisi]

ᴛᴇ ɪɴᴠᴏᴄᴏ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪʀᴛ ɪs ɢᴏɴᴇ

Perhaps she has hit the unlucky jackpot with getting Tamara as her roommate. What kind of reality did she wake up in to have to come home to a summoning circle?

Ao3

--------

 They were low on flour. 

 And it’s not as if they necessarily need it, per se. Not really, because hey, there’s a few snacks laying around, and their neighbor Marla’s built up a reputation from giving stuff out from bottomless pockets of sweets and chocolates that fits the picture book description of every five year old’s dreamscape to a t. 

 But Anthea’s hands are itching to do something, anything that isn’t homework, and as always, she’s drawn back into memories of large and steady palms pressing hers into dough, and the scent rising yeast in the oven — the furnace she’ll endearingly label as home. Even now, away on her studies, away from that little country kitchen, it’s that little piece of her past that’s trailing after her through the shopping aisle, Anthea mulling over the brands they have available.

 “You’re going shopping?” Her roommate had shouted from the couch when Anthea’s foot was half out of the door, holding it in place as she turned exasperatedly towards the other girl. “ Can you get me anything? Like, I dunno, gummy worms or something. Maybe some crisps. Oh, oh! See if they have any of those-” She snapped her fingers, a disappointed pout forming as she made a vagueish gesture. “Ah, you know. Those things.”

 “Sure, sure. Very helpful,” Anthea had said in drawl, fairly sure there are at least five possible contenders for what ‘those things’ may be from her past purchasing habits and, chances are, she’ll end up purchasing the wrong thing. So. You know. Helpful. “I’ll see what I can find, Tam. Pay me back later.”

 She’s gotten Tamara a good few bargains, and if she were any less of a person, Anthea would charge her full price for them and pocket a little extra cash. Like a certain someone — not naming names, but Tamara — had done a few months back in her ploy to ‘get rich quick’ after taking inspiration from a few life hack videos guaranteeing her ways to save money, though not as borderline fraudulent as she put into practice.

 So. Yes. What a wonderful roommate Anthea’s been blessed with. Truly an inspiration.

 (And to think that once upon so long ago, Anthea had been a sidestep and a jump from a breakdown, worrying if she’d be considered the weird roommate. The one people grumble about to friends over the phone.)

 After staring at the prices the flour is selling at — long enough she swears barcodes and prices are burned into her retinas, thin black lines and all — Anthea pulls out her phone, just long enough to send a text or two to Tamara. Just checking in, is all. Reminding Tamara of her half of the chores, and praying to every entity out there that she's not going to have to come back to their shared living space surrounded by firefighters because of a science project gone wrong. 

 (“Hey, I was just pulling apart my Magiorb to see how it ticked! I couldn’t have foreseen the fire. Or how couches aren’t fireproof. Uhh, what’s the cheapest fireproof furniture selling right now?”)

 Needless to say, there’s a very low bar in the terms of her expectations for her return. Very low bar. ‘World’s best limbo dancer can’t even hope to cross’ kind.

 Still. Somehow Tamara manages to bring a spade and tunnel right under this metaphorical bar until she reaches hell’s gates, because, well, Anthea’s pretty sure that everything you can find in a ‘ cultists starter kit to summoning demonic entities’ has been strewn across the room to the point that rather than baking, her hands are screaming for her to grab a fire extinguisher before house fire electric boogaloo can make a comeback. 

 Candles. So. Many. Candles. Over that little couch, over her bed. Why are they over her bed?

 Multiple pressing questions bulldoze their way down the fast-pass lane to the forefront of her mind, so pressing they may as well be full on slaps to the face like this whole nonsensical scene displayed out in front of her. Anthea hardly registers dropping the shopping bag, slipping from numb fingers now completely useless for pinching her awake from this living nightmare. 

  ‘Life hacks,' okay. Guess this extends to hacking away at their own lifespans too. It’s flashing before her eyes, disco party style, as they speak.

 “Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor?” Anthea says with this tired sort of calm calm. Like the anger and frustration and fear are too big for her body and physically unable to manifest themselves into her tone. It’s just. Too much.

 “Your text told me to satanize the kitchen before you returned, and the other rooms if I could. Don’t worry, I did the kitchen too,” Tamara says like it’s a perfectly normal request and every bit entirely in character of Anthea to say, and not in the least worrisome to the point that Anthea doesn’t so much as want to think about the state of the kitchen. She knows the text. She knows what she sent. And yeah, pulling out her phone, Anthea’s now doubly sure that her request wasn’t nearly as demonic as Tamara has taken it.

 “I wrote sanitise, Tamara,” She corrects with not nearly enough stress on the name as she is feeling right now. Not even close. “Sanitise . And here you are with… with this pentagram…”

 “Summoning circle.” 

 “Oh, I’m sorry.” Anthea wants to laugh, really laugh, but she’s afraid she won’t be able to stomach something so bitter. “And how is that any better?”

 “I mean, it’s not the Satan on the line. I couldn’t get a hold of him.” And is it her, or does the slight pout of Tamara’s bottom lip make her look — dare she say it — disappointed. Demonic flames are no way to sanitise a home. Insta-cook it? Yes. But she just wants to bake. Not recreate hell’s kitchen.

 Anthea pinches or nose and lets loose a long, drawn out sigh as she tries to recall what optimism sounds like again when her half full glass has been shattered against a wall repetitively. 

 “Well that’s clear. If you had, I’d be coming back to nothing but the circle. Thank the stars you didn’t manage to summon him.”

 And by him, she means whatever alternative demon Tamara had turned to after her temporary setback. Anthea never really studied demons above the mandatory lessons where the overall takeaway was ‘ stay the heck away from demons unless you have a death wish for both you and your entire neighbourhood .’ And good old Mr Rivera had a knack for making even the most entertaining of things about as interesting as witnessing fifty coats of paint dry, the sound of his voice alone giving insomniacs the well needed rest they deserve, his droning on a magical cure-all. But she swears that the patterns ring some incredibly distant alarm bells amongst the fog of memories.

 “Ehhh…” Tamara hand wanders to the back of her neck, sheepish. “I mean...”

 Her stomach drops. Ten, twenty floors of an office building and into the plummeting void of ever present worry and why ever did she think leaving to buy flour would be a safe activity?

 “What,” Anthea says, fire encased in a cage of ice for a tone, “Did you do?”

 As if on queue — and perhaps so, because stage queues and flair have been attributed to their species for years — the answer makes itself known as the Dreambender himself, materialising into existence with a faint pop and waft of pine needles to mask the smoke.

 What.

  What the-

 “Oh, y̤͈̣̭̝͎̹o͖̝̻̲̤̪͇u͖͉̥͙’̥͖̟̗͍̮͡r̼̩̣̻e̞͔̝̜̹ ͔̺̘͈̰͎b̞̦͍͔͡a͖͜c͇̘k̛̮̙?̹̼͓̖͖̳̝ ” He grins, too many teeth. Far too many teeth. “And you’ve brought my gummy worms! Thanks!”

[dumplingfaye]

Here’s my top 30 strongest characters in Black clover

(I’m trying to be extremely fair but there is some biased so if there’s someone that doesn’t make that much sense why they’re highly ranked it’s because I’m biased one character in particular and I’m doing this because someone made a absolutely god awful top 15)

Charlotte Roselei .30

if you wonder why she’s ranked so low it’s because even though she fought Vanica and won that was when Vanica was weaker and once Vanica went 100% she creamed Charlotte plus her magic was only effective because it was cursed magic if she fought any of the other dark triad members she would have probably lost

Lumiere Silvamillion Clover/Licht .29/.28

if you’re wondering why they’re so low on the list it’s because they couldn’t defeat Zagred and contrary to some people’s beliefs Zagred is actually extremely weak at least compared to the other Devils

Zagred .27

he’s very powerful what can I say but he’s pretty low on the list because well he is smart however when it comes to fighting he’s very bland and does the exact same thing over and over

Luck Voltia/Leopoldo Vermillion/Charmy Pappitson/Mimosa Vermillion .26/.25/.24/.23

a basic summary they all have true magic and intern they all have ultimate magic (Luck has Elven magic as well which also gives him an extra boost) (Leopoldo is a Royal and trains a lot so he doesn’t gets left behind)” not that that helps”(Charmy is a hybrid of a human and a dwarf)and (Mimosa is a Royal as well as a recovery mage but that doesn’t mean that she can’t put up a good fight)

Nozel Silva/Fuegoleon Vermillion 22/.21

(Nozel to tell the truth i’m not actually sure how much powerful he’s gotten over the last six months but he’s probably going to play a big role soon so this is also kind of his biased) as for (Fuegoleon to tell the truth I kind of think he’s pretty weak but maybe he has spirit dive so that’s why he’s here if he doesn’t well he’s not even on the list in that case)

Zora Ideale .20

you’re probably wondering why he’s here This isn’t me being biased because I’m kind of indifference towards Zora but he’s here because his magic is quite interesting he can reflect someone’s attack and double its power and he possibly even has more tricks up his sleeve after all it has been six months

Magna Swing: .19

now you’re probably wondering why he’s so low on the list after all he beat Dante well that’s actually pretty simple it’s because to me this is actually kind of me being biased I don’t actually like Magna in fact I actually hate him but to me personally I think his trump card is for very pacific conditions for starters we know that Dante is extremely strong right when it comes to magic but when it comes to intellect or physical strength he has none so to me if Magna fights someone with either of those things or God for bid both I personally think he would lose but this could just be my bias talking

Gaja .18

he fought the wizard king to a stalemate and he was able to fight Devil Lolopechka to an even degree when he wasn’t even trying to hurt her but she was trying to hurt him (I could be wrong please don’t get mad at me keep in mind this is just my opinion)

Julius Novachrono(at prime) .17

Julius at his prime everyone stroke his power and even though Yami trained for six months he was still weaker than Julius he only became stronger after he surpassed his limits

Yami Sukehiro .16

(dimension slash/Equinox)(death thrust)(Black hole) etc.

Jack the Ripper .15

if I’m being honest I’m pretty sure if he fought Magna he would probably lose (because he has a weak body and doesn’t have that much intellect) but because his magic is so versatile that he can adapt to the magic attribute it’s against he possibly could do incredible things with it even though I kind a wish he would die I don’t like him either

Devil Lolopechka .14

To tell the truth I’m not exactly sure if she’s stronger than anyone who’s on the list but I assume she is at the very least I know she’s stronger than Charlotte but because she’s a devil she’s probably stronger than most of the other characters

Zenon Zogratis /Yuno Grinberryall .13/.12

if I’m being honest I don’t actually know who’s stronger because even though at the beginning of their fight (of course not in their first one) Yuno was indeed winning the fight but after Zenon went 100% it came to a stalemate so I’m not exactly sure who is stronger (one is a devil user) and the other (is a spirit user) so 50/50 ╰(0 ~ 0)╯

Dante Zogratis/Vanica Zogratis: .11/.10

I mean they’re both stupid and they’re both strong and I didn’t put them in the same boat as Zenon because when Vanica heard that “Yami was defeated by Zenon” she said that he might not be as strong as she hoped implying that she was stronger than Zenon plus Dante has the king of all devils so that’s why there here

Dorothy Unsworth .9

this might be my bias talking but because she has her own world (created by magic) she can conjure up anything she wants and of course she’s gotten stronger over the six months so that’s why she’s highly ranked

Mereoleona Vermillion .8

She’s fighting a demon God and even though her magic is being absorbed she can still fight so yeah

Noelle Silva/Acier Silva .7/.6

to me personally they don’t actually have that many differences when it comes to strengths because both of them defeated Vanica and sure Vanica was weaker when she fought Acier but (Acier had to protect both of her children plus she died because of Megicula’s interference) and Acier was able to leave a permanent mark on Vanica

Nacht Faust .5

(OKAY if I’m being honest this is extremely biased I really like him a lot) but Nacht was able to cream Asta and Liebe for two days straight and while they were being cured he wasn’t (I mean it’s possible he was but I didn’t see it and neither did you” except in Fanart”) and they were able to defeat Dante and fight on par with Yami when they were weaker and out of breath and not even working in conjunction with each other so yeah and when he fought Naamah and Lilith he was able to perform a spell that is on the same level as supreme devils and the only reason why they were able to break through it is because Naamah and Lilith burn/freeze everything even invincible concepts/constructs and they were the strongest Devils we’ve seen so far at that pint in time and even though they were playing with him at a stalemate they were still stronger than anything they faced before and he was able to keep them busy for a little while wow this one was long

Naamah and Lilith .4

I just said it before but they’re able to burn/freeze everything you need including invincible concept/constructs anyhow they’re basically extremely strong and they could cream everyone on the list except the people who are higher than them

Megicula .3

well he/she (I don’t want to assume genders and be wrong) basically trashes on everyone in mere instant

Asta & Liebe .2

Devil union is just that over powered I mean it’s able to take out transformations such as spirit dive possibly other devil unions and of course normal spells such as Valkyrie dress or princess healing flower robe as well spirit of hellfire etc. able to dispel mana-zone based rooms is able to cut through any type of magic even if it’s a physical being and the sword themselves already pack a punch by themselves so with extra power that’s just over powered

Lucifuge/Lucifero .1/.0

Who the fu*k did you think was going to be number one/number zero Seriously who they’re literally the main bad guys in this arc it is impossible to tell what they’re capable of but whatever it is we know that they can kill anyone they want in an instant without even trying this isn’t me overhyping them this is a factual thing they are practically the most overpowered creatures in Black clover we have yet to see them and frankly I don’t think we want to I mean both of them killed really kind people Lucifero killed Licita Lucifuge I mean technically he didn’t kill Morgan (Morgen died because he interfered with the Devil ritual) but they killed Nacht and Morgan parents and if we’re being honest their parents well they kind of did deserve death

[ladyfawkes]

[I know what you're thinking -- and the answer is NOPE. THIS IS NOT A REPOST. THIS IS THE ACTUAL THIRD UPDATE (count 'em, THREE!!) in less than a month!! WOOPAH!!!] Tangled Just Before Ever After Chapter 4: Down the Hatch Current word count: 10103 Chapter 4 Summary: How in the world does Eugene answer Rapunzel's question??? Can the author manage to eek out yet another chapter from within the Tower??? WILL OUR COUPLE EVER GET BACK TO CORONA?!? S0ooOoo MANY qUeStiONs!!11!!

Eugene gulped hard several times; the silence stretched a bit too thin between his forthcoming answer and Rapunzel’s question. Eugene could feel that old standby instinct of wanting to lie through his teeth threatening to take over. But this was Rapunzel before him…. And this much he’d learned by now; if an honest woman confronts you about your past hookups, you should level with her. Though Eugene would've told Rapunzel whatever she wished to know, no matter when she chose to ask. After he’d been exploited for so many years by the likes of Stalyan and the Baron, Eugene had reached a breaking point fairly early on where he couldn’t bring himself to seduce the innocent anymore. He’d never liked doing that in the first place since it made him feel cheap, sleazy, and just all-out gross. Even grifters had to draw the line somewhere. It was yet another reason why he’d left Stalyan.

Eugene also knew that if he had to start running interference regarding his past during his first day as Eugene Fitzherbert the gentleman ….then he’d have to keep lying forever afterward….just like Flynn had. And Eugene was simply tired -- no, exhausted -- from all of the running, running, running. Flynn Rider had been on the move ever since he ditched the orphanage before his 10th year all those years ago. No more running, Eugene resolved. Even if leveling with the princess means she wants me out of the picture, so be it. She deserves to hear the truth from the source.

“Rapunzel….” Eugene began delicately, “the short answer to your question -- I’m sorry to say -- is far too many. But I’m requesting that we put a bookmark in that answer; we’ll circle back around to finish it.” Eugene nearly lost his nerve to continue after seeing the crestfallen look in Rapunzel’s eyes. He instead busied himself by locating the ring-shaped pull embedded in the trapdoor of the floor. After tugging on it, he noticed it wouldn’t budge. Without prompting, Rapunzel volunteered further information, explaining how when the princess was still little, Gothel always made her go up to the loft before she opened the trapdoor for her trips away. The crone never wanted the girl to figure out how to operate it. Thus Rapunzel said, “But you’re good at finding your way out of places. I figured you could make the mechanism work -- even without having seen Gothel’s trick to unlatching it.”

No sooner had Rapunzel said the word “unlatching” when a sharp click-THUNK issued from the floor. “Found it,” announced a smirking Eugene, as he moved the toe of his boot off of the otherwise camouflaged mechanism. He couldn’t help feeling a little smug after having effectively outthought that diabolical dead woman….again. The young man repositioned himself to again tug the metal ring and sure enough, the trapdoor swung open this time.

“After you,” said Eugene, gallantly gesturing Rapunzel down the next set of stairs.

“If only I had met you sooner,” Rapunzel said wistfully, as she shook her head. She’d tried to find that hidden mechanism in the floor for years. Eugene had discovered and figured out how to disarm it in mere seconds.

Eugene could not help his contrite chuckle. “Rapunzel, if we had met sooner -- even one year earlier, I doubt I ever could’ve left this place the first time. But it would’ve been for an entirely different reason.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rapunzel challenged, an unexpected edge to her voice. She folded her arms and demanded, “And what’s that?”

“Well, for starters,” said Eugene, his voice becoming far more subdued, “you never would’ve reached the fateful decision to enter a trust agreement with the kingdom’s most disreputable scoundrel. I mean….how could you?” Eugene pondered softly. “Especially based on the faulty info you’d been given about the world in general, you wouldn’t have had a reason yet to take the chance on our deal. Gothel’s control freakishness….hadn’t yet pushed you to the brink. Instead, she would’ve come home, you would’ve had no choice but to tell her that you’d caught me breaking in, and….well….”

“Don’t say that,” Rapunzel abruptly cut him off, abandoning her walk down the stairs, instead rushing over to grab Eugene’s free hand. “Don’t you ever say that,” she admonished, eyes wide. “Even if you had remained a perfect rogue stranger to me, Eugene Fitzherbert, I never would’ve wanted that old crone to hurt you on purpose. And especially not like... this,” finished Rapunzel, once more stretching her palm and pressing it against the jagged bloody tear in his doublet. A renewed ember of hope sparked inside him. And before he knew it, Rapunzel was apologizing, of all things!

“I….I’m sorry I put you on the spot that way regarding, ah, any prior relationships. It wasn’t fair of me to throw something like that on you so suddenly.” Meekness overtook Rapunzel and she looked at the floor, absently tracing out an invisible half-circle with her big toe. “Besides,” she confessed, “I only did it to distract you from my own awkwardness. But….but you kept…..insisting I should tell you what was bothering me since you are trustworthy.” Eugene was swift and carefully set the trapdoor down with the hinge open outward. He also briefly removed and set down his satchel.

The anxious young man went directly to Rapunzel with open arms but halfway through the motion thought that perhaps he shouldn’t, because Eugene didn’t want her to feel obligated to reciprocate. So the keyed-up man kept his fingers curled into his palms rather than reach out, and he kept his arms from raising above waist height. He was half-frozen, trying earnestly not to telegraph what he truly wished to do.

Eugene’s own thumbs must’ve betrayed him, though, as they involuntarily flexed, splaying outward from his balled fists. Rapunzel approached him and briefly gazed into his eyes with a hint of smile behind her own. She proceeded to lean over and take each of his hands, in turn, and tenderly kiss each errant thumb, in turn. Yet any embarrassment Eugene felt over her keen perception would soon melt away. For the princess took his left wrist and placed his arm over her right shoulder, took his right wrist and guided his arm around her waist, and then she mirrored the gesture with her own arms around him. The pair had briefly stopped their world to oh-so-carefully melt deeply into each other. After some time, they briefly broke their embrace. Rapunzel drew her arms in and criss-crossed her upper body with them, tucking in right up against Eugene’s chest. This allowed the sweet young man to attentively draw the princess into himself so tightly, nearly tight enough for him to wrap his arms around her twice as he buried his entire face into her silken hair. Each time they embraced….Eugene was simply floored with just how perfectly they “fit” one another; she could nestle comfortably and flush against his own shape, creating a head-to-toe highway of warmth and love.

Eventually, contented humming issued from Rapunzel’s throat. “I’ve never felt this safe before,” she murmured in awe, her face still pillowed against Eugene’s chest. “Nobody’s ever held me like this before either.” This realization had moved the princess to tears. Eugene leisurely placed a ring of popcorn kisses around the crown of her head in effort to soothe. “Dearest Sunshine of mine,’ he whispered into her hair, “I can promise you there’s so much more where that came from…..” and he was able to draw her imperceptibly closer into himself.

Soon moisture pricked the corners of his own eyes, for Eugene had a similar epiphany to Rapunzel’s. In all his years of relative isolation on the run, Rider never once allowed himself to partake in anything on this type of intimacy level. He’d always been keen to its existence, though. And he knew it was so much deeper and more meaningful than sex. And being the secretly sensitive person Eugene was, it was something he furtively craved but couldn’t bring himself to put that type of expectation upon another human being, knowing the unfavorable lifestyle he led.

And here this fractured thief managed to get caught up within a perfect healing ray of sunlight….and she was willing to take him on along with all his demons, even without knowing the full story in advance. And boy, did he ever have more than his fair share of demons. In spite of himself, Eugene had to say it again. “Sunshine…..I don’t deserve you.”

He immediately heard a tiny huff of impatience from her. “Eugeeeeeene,” Rapunzel overemphasized with mild vexation, “deserving or not, I’ve chosen you. You are forever my new dream. So….so start acting like it….please?” she implored, gazing at him with wide-open concerned eyes. Even her pep talk to him had proven about as rough and tumble as dandelion fluff.

“For you, Sunshine.” Eugene caressed her cheek. “It’ll be a struggle for awhile….but I will no longer speak of ‘deserving to have you.’ I shall instead focus on ‘building new dreams with you’.”

“Thank you,” Rapunzel said gratefully. “It….just….hurts me to see you thinking so much less of yourself due to circumstances now beyond your control.” She slipped her hand into Eugene’s own. And it was that moment he finally found an opening to finish what he started.

“Circling back to the bookmark in our conversation…. Rapunzel…. Ever since the first time you chose to address me as Eugene, everything...the past few days...has been unlike anything I’ve ever felt or experienced with any woman before. It’s all new….all of it. So many firsts already. Nonetheless, you still have every right to ask me about whomever I’ve been with prior to when we met. And while I do intend to eventually tell you about those encounters -- if that’s what you want -- you should also be aware that for me, Eugene Fitzherbert, it’s still a little too soon to openly discuss much of anything just yet. But I will try for your sake, if that’s what you need.” He briefly bowed his head, his eyelids automatically sliding shut.

Rapunzel was so fleet-footed that Eugene had not heard her change positions to where she grabbed his satchel, immediately encouraged Eugene to open his eyes and to help a struggling Pascal who was now lugging a forgotten cast-iron frying pan, and she started down the steps at long last. That was….abrupt, Eugene thought to himself. If Rapunzel was perpetually so talented at keeping him on his toes, then he’d best get himself some better boots -- and soon!

“You okay?” asked Eugene, just to make sure. He grabbed the brass ring of the trapdoor and just before he closed it…..he looked around the Tower one last time. He knew that he should feel the most ominous and terrified that he’d ever felt, especially upon glimpsing his own bloodstain on the floor. But something…..someone was protecting him. And even though he was neither superstitious nor believed in ghosts, once in awhile he would privately allow himself the indulgence of conjuring up invented people and imagery from his past. Fleetingly an image of who could only be his mother comes to mind; it was her spirit that must’ve been shielding him from the worst of today’s trauma, he decided. Thank you, he mouths the words to a seemingly empty Tower, pulling the trapdoor tight shut forever.....

“I’m more than okay,” Rapunzel replied enthusiastically, as she made her way down the dingy spiral staircase. “Who cares about past relationships when you can tell me about all of those firsts you just mentioned instead?”

Eugene almost -- almost -- laughed aloud with relief. Here he had been so worried about past relationship questions when Rapunzel instead wanted to be told all about the present. Three days, and this was the only thing he’d come across so far in which Rapunzel was anything like any other woman he’d met. And Eugene was more than happy to indulge her need to know just how special she had become to him and why.

A/N: I hate to do this (haven't done it here before) but I'm getting next to NO feedback and the same goes for reblogs. If you enjoy my writing, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE -- even if you write no review--reblog this?? It's the only way this story goes out anywhere. It's an author's life blood. You all know how isolating and ridiculous tumblr's stupid search algorithm is.....

[lilyharvord]

The Secret Correspondence of the Dancing War  - Part 5

A/N And we have arrived as the end children. While it saddens us to wrap this up, I think Regina (@elane-in-the-shadows) and I are super happy with it. Here is the final letter to wrap up the epilogue that we decided we knew how to write better than Victoria.

v. Kilorn

[Editors note, Gabriel Jacos: While this letter was written ten years ago, Coriane and Shade Barrow Calore have agreed to share it to preserve it. For context, this letter was written some three weeks after the fourth attempt to kidnap them failed in the year they announced their abdication from their father’s birthright. For more information on the topic of Calore abdication, see section: treaties N/M ii to v v. GJA/. Both were moved to a remote location with their parents known only to very close family. For this reason, there are no omissions in the letter and there is little more to be said other than the few words they asked to be shared: it is their favorite letter that their uncle wrote to them, and he was right about their mother cheating at cards. For further reading on the topic of the Dancing War, see section: letters EITS i to LV v. GJA/]

                                               November 30 345

Cori and Shade, 

I hope this letter finds you safe, and while I applaud both of you on your ability to drive your dad up a wall (a pass time that I really enjoyed too when I was younger), I do ask that you try to refrain from making your parents decide that the front lines are easier to handle than you two. For starters, the cabin roof is not a spring board for you two to practice jumping off of, and the woods out back are not a place for you to practice creating infernos Cori. I know how boring it can be to sit around under protective custody, but just know that we all miss you both very much. My office isn’t the same without you two running around playing your games, and distracting me with your laughter. Hopefully all of this blows over soon and you two can be back in time to celebrate the holidays, or at least your birthday, Cori. Your grandmother is already preparing, and she’s counting you and your parents in for dinner. And yes, Shade, I did remember to remind to your grandmother that you hate vegetables. She has promised to include something different for you (although I can’t make any promises on whether or not your mom forces you to eat some). 

I’m sure your parents will want a break from you trouble makers when you get back, so I assume I’ll have to shoulder the burden of keeping you little demons under control. While I’ll be pretty busy handling the treaty with the Prairie fiefdoms and reviewing or implementing whatever crazy battle plans your parents come up with, I’m sure we’ll still have plenty of time to wander the gardens on the grounds. Carmadon has been tending to the patch of lavender your planted with him, Cori, and you’ll be pleased to know that it’s doing very well given the storms we’ve had lately. I plan to restock the pond once it thaws too, so hopefully we can spend some time feeding the fish and the ducks in the spring if you two promise not to terrorize them again. I doubt that will happen though. You two know how to terrorize things more than your parents do. 

Speaking of your parents, I heard you two have been asking more and more about your namesakes… and about the past. Cori, I heard that you snooped around in your dad’s office and found a stack of letters addressed to his brother who you’ve never met, and only got caught because you put a paperweight back in the wrong place (which is a very small error for someone your age and you should be prepared for a recruitment letter from Elane Haven… I may have mentioned the story to her). 

While it’s not my business to share with you the entire story, I can say that much of what occurred left very profound impacts on your parents and the rest of the people you know. Many of us were not always close or willing to share a room with each other. In fact, only recently has your mother been able to speak with Ptolemus Samos for longer than ten seconds.  And while your parents probably celebrated the day both of you displayed your abilities, there is still a deep fear about what occurred in the past to people like you. Norta was not always the States, and people like us did not always enjoy the freedoms we do now. I’ve heard your mom tell you both numerous times to count your blessings, and I have also heard your dad tell you not to joke about wanting to kill each other, and they’re right to say those things. While you might not have understood why they both get so nervous when you joke like that, you have to know that they are still healing all these years later. I didn’t want to be morbid in this letter, given what happened a month ago, but as you two get older and grow up, I feel as if you need to be reminded of what we all fought for. Your mother and father both lost brothers to the war, as you now know, but the extent of that loss probably has not been shared with you two.  I encourage you to ask them about those people, but be prepared to hear things you might not like. We all did bad things to survive and hurt a lot of people to get to where we are today. You two are certainly a blessing with everything that has happened in our lives, but one that could never have occurred twenty years ago. 

The world is still changing, and people are still growing (even me and your parents). I know you both have gotten angry with them for returning to the front numerous times once you were older, but you have to understand that they are still desperately trying to make the world a safer, better place for you two to grow up in. We all are. We want you and your cousins to have better lives than we did. We want you to have the chance to be kinder and more naïve than we were. We don’t want you to have to fight wars that don’t belong to you, or to have enemies because their parents were our enemies. We want you to be able to walk down the street without having to look over your shoulders like we did and still do at times. We want you to be happier than we were. 

I know this is a lot to digest, and I’m sure you’re more than little uncomfortable. But that is okay. As your Uncle Julian has told you numerous times: the past and the truth must make us uncomfortable if we are to change the future. There’s a reason that quote was in my first official address. My hope, and your parents’ hope, is that the wars end before you’re both adults. That way you don’t have to think about entering the military, although I have been told not to discourage either of you from wanting to do that, you’re supposed to be completely free to make that choice. But once again, we want you to be able to make a choice. 

Now that I got all of that mushy gushy stuff out of the way that I know you’re both making faces at while you read, I do have some advice for you as your favorite uncle.

1. If you do plan to jump off the cabin roof, make sure you have enough snow to fall into (4-5 feet should do the trick), don’t pack it though, keep it loose and try to avoid any icy patches. 

2. Your father is terrible at protecting his left side, so if you want to get him (and kick his butt) during a snow ball fight, I recommend sneaking up on his left. 

3. If you really want your mother to not be mad at you for jumping off the cabin roof, give her a kiss on the cheek and remind her that she used to jump off your grandparents’ porch with me when we were your age.

4. If you’re going to play wrestle, no biting, or scratching. Shade, don’t pull on your sister’s hair, and Cori try to refrain from pummeling your brother into the ground.

5. No abilities in the house. Wait for your parents to supervise you please. (Shade I heard you and your mother had a good time making thunder snow the other week, don’t try it on your own unless you want a beating from her that will keep you from sitting down for a month)

6. If you two do decide to ignore #5 go someplace where you parents won’t see you and have a really, really good lie planned for when they find you. 

7. When your dad says he’s busy, he’s secretly crying for help and distraction. I recommend dragging him outside to play or putting on your best begging faces. Maximum amount of bothering should get him to move. 

8. Ask your dad to play “the game”. It involves all the lights being off and being as quiet as possible. You two normally struggle with that but I’d like to hear how it goes.  

9. Your mother cheats at card games.  Always cheek her sleeves before and during playing. 

10. Don’t tell them I told you to do any of this. 

I’m going to keep missing you two the entire time you’re away. I can’t wait to see you again. Don’t grow more than a few inches while you’re gone (this is directed mostly at you, Shade.)

Give each other a hug for me (squeeze twice just like I do). I love you both.  

@elliemarchetti @inopinion @scxrletguardsdawn @freaky-freiday @petergrantkavinsky @mareshmallow @farleydiana @king-maven-calore @whatsup-gorls @delilahlbard  @evangeline-of-montfort​ @redqueenetwork​

[alirhi]

random snippet again

as promised, @feralgoblintea here's the (temporary) scene where the two sisters meet for the first time since one went missing as a child

note about the nickname: Rachel's middle name is Miranda; everyone has called her 'Andy' from that since she was a little kid. it's explained in her story, but not in this scene, so I just wanted to explain it here lol

"Your parents are very eager to know where you've been and what you've been going through all these years," the doctor told her, deep voice oddly gentle and soothing. Rachel smiled sadly; his voice reminded her of Amadeus. "Most of all, they want to know that you're alright."

She knew he thought she was crazy. Her parents definitely shared that opinion, which was why she was here to begin with. Still, she couldn't help asking, "And, in your professional opinion, am I?"

He caught her lightly mocking tone and snorted, leaning back in his chair to mirror her pose. "In my professional opinion," he shot back, though the sarcasm left his tone before he even finished his sentence, "you've been through Hell, Rachel. The trauma you've suffered is very, very real. If you're asking, do I believe in demons and portals and time travel, I'd have to say no. But that pain and fear came from somewhere... I'd like you to come back in for regular sessions, if you're up for it; see if we can cut through the fantasy, see past the demons and find the real monsters who hurt you."

"That's why I'm not coming back." She stood, shaking her head a little. "I'm not surprised you don't believe me - I probably wouldn't believe it, myself, if I hadn't lived it - but it's a bit frustrating. What I told you isn't metaphors or delusion. It all happened, and I'm not interested in having someone rip it all apart and try to make me doubt my own memory."

"They call that 'gaslighting' these days."

Startled, the blonde whirled around to face the source of the new voice; a woman she sort of vaguely recognized was standing in the doorway, hand on the knob, smiling at her. After a long moment, her brain helpfully edited the image before her to make it make sense; wild red hair to dirty blonde, violet eyes to mismatched green and blue, face younger and body smaller and more plump. "...Beck?!"

Rebecca's smile widened and she stepped forward with a nod. "Hey, Andy."

"Oh my god!" With a laugh and a delighted screech, she launched herself across the room and threw her arms around her little sister. "What are you doing here?"

Nearly squeezing the breath out of her, the younger woman murmured, "I heard you were back and had to see you. Stand your ground, Andy. Don't let them make you forget or doubt that it was all real. We know the truth." She released her, only to bring her hands up to grip the sides of her sister's head. "Magic is real."

Rachel froze, staring at Rebecca's mouth long after it closed and the two long, wicked fangs that had drawn her attention were hidden from view. "...What happened to you?"

"Not here. I'll tell you everything, but not here."

"Okay." Without so much as a backward glance at the shrink, she followed the redhead out of the office, past their fretting parents, and out into the bright sunny day that made Rebecca hiss.

She cringed and immediately donned a beat-to-hell baseball cap and a pair of dark sunglasses. "Fuck, I hate sunny days."

"You always did." Rachel couldn't help smiling faintly; so many years had passed, more than anyone in the world around them could ever understand, and yet so little about her baby sister had changed.

"Yeah, well... I've only gotten more sensitive to it."

Once they'd made it deep enough into the woods behind the Industrial Park that there was no risk of anyone overhearing, they stopped, and Rachel asked her point blank: "You're a vampire, aren't you?"

Rebecca laughed, gratefully leaning back into the shade of the nearest tree. "Only in our lives is that a casual conversation starter. And yes. Thankfully I'm old enough that daylight won't kill me. It's just unpleasant."

With her own accidental time travel in mind, the blonde asked, "How old are you?" Thirty-seven, she knew, in the eyes of the people around them; to them, Rachel herself had only just turned thirty-nine, and yet both sisters looked at each other with exhausted, haunted eyes millennia older than they could ever hope to make anyone else understand.

"As a vampire, or in general?" She smirked, shrugging off her own question before her sister could answer. "In general is harder to pin down, but I've been a vampire for about six thousand years, give or take a few."

Leaning against a tree roughly opposite Rebecca's, Rachel mirrored her smirk and crossed her arms over her chest. "I was Queen of an entire planet, and then POW and slave on a second, then a fugitive... I managed to send my older daughter home, before I got stuck on a third planet with my boys and little girl. It's been about ten thousand years."

"You have kids?" Rebecca grinned, once again showing those distractingly long fangs. "Me, too! I have two daughters, Madeline and Alice."

"Senna, Kieran, Caspian, and...Cassie," Rachel told her in answer to her unspoken question. She couldn't help blushing as she listed her children's names; she'd since learned what senna was, and hadn't actually given her younger two children names beginning with the same sound on purpose. It had just sort of worked out that way.

"Twins?"

She shook her head. "Caspian's my stepson, kinda, and Cassie was named after-"

Rebecca flinched, remembering. "After Cassie Wade, right? I was so focused on figuring out what happened to you, and then fighting to survive, I'd forgotten she went missing with you."

"She..." Clearing her throat, the blonde squared her shoulders and pulled her strong front around herself like a familiar safety blanket. "She saved our lives; she didn't make it. And, yeah. I named my youngest after her. Anyway, they're all grown, and Kieran..." Jaw clenching, she forcibly dismissed thoughts of her rapist and merely said, "He's my perfect warrior prince. Well, King now. I love them all, and desperately miss Senna, but Kieran, despite his more questionable choices, has a special place in my heart."

Rebecca took her sunglasses off and studied her for a moment before venturing, "Y'know... I literally eat rapists for breakfast."

That got a startled bark of laughter from her big sister, who shook her head. "Even if my boy hadn't already killed him, I doubt his gross, rancid blood would sit well with you. He wasn't human."

The redhead shrugged, smirking again. "Doesn't have to be. I've eaten Fae, elves, one vampire that pissed me off royally..."

"Not such a picky eater anymore, huh?" she teased, grinning. "Was it some badass revenge on your sire or something?"

Laughing, Rebecca shook her head. "Nope, no sire. I'm the OG vampire, babe. The first of the species. My younger daughter, Alice, is the first of the natural born vamps."

"So, wait... You could still get pregnant after you were turned? What?" Rachel frowned, beyond confused. "And how the fuck...?"

"I'm not dead," her little sister explained with another laugh. "Everything's slowed way the hell down, but hasn't stopped. I can't have kids with a human, or probably most Fae, but a certain trickster God..."

"...God?"

She grinned and nodded, though her haunting violet eyes looked sad. "Loki. He's Alice's dad."

"Huh. So the Gods are real." Rachel snorted. "Go figure. And my sister banged one."

"I loved him," the other woman whispered, staring at the ground. She opened her mouth as if to speak further, then seemed to reconsider and closed it again, clearing her throat.

To spare her from some clearly painful memories, whatever they were, Rachel asked, "What's a Fae?"

"Fairy," was the simple enough answer. "Fairies are real, too. Maddie - my oldest - is Fae."

Is she Loki's, too? She didn't dare ask - Loki was clearly a touchy subject - but she was dying to know.

As if she could read her mind, Rebecca, still avoiding her gaze, explained, "I was still mortal when I had her. Her father was Fae."

As the light breeze shifted the leaves above them, making the light dance across Rebecca's ghostly white skin, Rachel finally noticed the scars. At first, they'd looked like tribal tattoos, done puzzlingly in a silvery-white. When she realized they were actually a complex web of ancient scars, she also noticed they covered every inch of her sister's flesh that she could see around her shorts and tank top. Her face was the only place free of the oddly beautiful swirling lines, though she did spot a faint scar on her forehead, running from hairline to cheekbone and through the outer edge of her eyebrow.

"Is Madeline's father why you hunt rapists?" Is he the one who tore you apart?

"He didn't rape me... Technically. But yes, he's the one who scarred me." At her startled look, Rebecca smirked; it utterly failed to reach her eyes, but it was a start. "I can read your mind. I'm trying not to - I find it unspeakably rude and invasive - but when you're actively thinking about me, it tends to cut through my shields. The scars are from a spell he worked on me; blood magic. It's what made Maddie's conception possible, and chained me to him for years."

"Kieran's father was my greatest enemy; Crown Prince of the people who'd been attacking and slaughtering mine. King by the time I escaped." She didn't know what made her suddenly share this, but it felt like the thing to do. Her sister had told her something deeply personal and troubling; it seemed only right to meet candor with candor. Besides, Rachel and Rebecca had been two peas in a pod as children, as close as two sisters could possibly be. There was no amount of time that could strain their relationship. "I was captured in battle and kept as a slave for around a year and a half."

"How did the other three come about?" She smirked again, shoving her wild red hair back off her face impatiently. "Even when we were kids, I'd have bet just about anything that you're gayer than a rainbow, so how do you have so many kids?"

Rachel laughed, rolling her eyes. "Political marriage gave me Senna - born in a dungeon, thanks to me being pregnant during the battle and not knowing it yet. She was smuggled home to her father after she was born. I made a friend in that Hellhole, Emil, and he'd been raising Caspian; he's not his biological father, but that never mattered, just like it didn't matter to me that I didn't give birth to him. That boy's just as much my son as Kieran. We were supposed to go back to my home when we escaped, but something went screwy and we ended up on Achlys, instead, where I met my girlfriend and we all decided to just settle and raise the boys."

"So you cheated on your husband?" Rebecca's grin was teasing - and, thank god, reached her eyes at last! - but Rachel still threw an acorn at her when she said, "You whore!"

"I never saw him again! And he wouldn't have given a shit," she explained with a laugh. "I was, like, his third or fourth wife. And like I said, it was purely political; I was Queen, he was my advisor, he wanted power and I wanted an heir. Enter Senna, who boosted Raziel from random noble to father of the next Queen, and assured that there would be someone to take the reins if I died."

"So..." Her sister began ticking points off on her fingers as she spoke. "Shrewd political moves gave you Senna, you're co-parenting Caspian with a friend, we won't speak of Kieran's origins... How and why was Cassie a thing?"

Rachel shook her head, gaping at her. "A thing? That's nice, Beck. Real nice."

"Gods, you've missed so many cultural shifts, dude." Rebecca shook her head right back, trying not to laugh at her. "Just answer the question, old lady."

"Emil and I, and my girlfriend Trinity, all talked and decided to hell with conventionality; we all love each other, so we'll all be together. Em's my exception, I guess; the only man I've ever been attracted to even after seeing him naked. Our boys were grown, Senna was long gone, we'd made a whole new life for ourselves, so we decided to have another baby. Enter Cassie." Rachel sighed, staring off into space. "And now she's grown, Kieran's back in that awful place trying to turn it around, married to a great girl, Caspian's there with them to help..."

Though she had a feeling she knew the answer, the vampire asked softly, "And your lovers?"

"...Dead. Cassie - Cassie Wade, I mean - died in prison, Trin and Em were killed in the second war." A bitter smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. "Kieran and Cas are running a third."

"There's always another fucking war," Rebecca grumbled. "I've watched so many of them come and go, fought in two, myself... It never really ends."

[happyvoidharmony]

Odd

@bearandbirdfan I finally got your request ! Sorry for taking so much time, I hope you enjoy it !

Request : Laxus listening to Mira’s heartbeat and Mira talking about when August pierced her heart.

It was odd.

They didn’t get the chance to hang out very often. She spent most of her time at the guild hall, serving drinks, organizing things and whatever she was supposed to do there. Especially taking care of the master too.

The old man was not getting any younger as the months passed by and was finding himself more and more in need of an another person for tasks he simply didn’t have the energy to do anymore, considering he spent a lot of his time in a wheelchair it had become rather natural to need someone to take a little care of him.

Nothing too much, he was still very capable to handle himself in well… intimate parts of his life. He didn’t anyone to bathe him or such things that old people needed. Just someone to keep his house livable, accompany him home and sometimes bring something to eat when he hadn’t already eaten at the hall. When he usually got back with very different people, give that most mages found the idea of having a private conversation with him rather appealing, especially as S-class trials approached, the other tasks usually fell on Mirajane, sometimes Lisanna, but only when Mira found herself too busy to do it herself.

And it was fine, they had found quite a balance. She usually just brought something she had cooked during the day and tidied up while asking for his orders on guild matters. Everything kind of found its place, and everyone seemed quite content with it.

He didn’t have more free time. He spent lots of it on jobs, mostly with his team but sometimes taking a quick solo mission as the Thunder Legion rested between two. And, training of course.

Which is why they didn’t hang out very often. That didn’t mean they didn’t see a lot of each other though. Because they did. A lot. One night every time he got into town for the very least. And as months passed by, they were finding it even harder to spend a night other than in the same bed while he was there. But they rarely hung out because they mostly slept, and screw, a lot, and snuggled (even if he had trouble admitting it) talking about their days or just listening to music when nothing was new.

She usually came back late from the hall or the master’s place. And he spent as much time training, hanging out with the Thunder Legion or organizing his next mission. So, it was rare when their schedules both synced up and they found themselves at the same time free for the evening.

Surprisingly, they found themselves doing nothing during those times. One would have thought they would take the chance to go on a date, but they usually just spent the entire evening at his place without anything planned. Mostly because their sort of relationship wasn’t public yet, only a few knew about it like Erza, Lisanna, Elfman, the Thunder Legion and of course, the master, with very diverse opinions on it.

So they didn’t go anywhere because running across someone from the guild was just something they both silently agreed they didn’t want to do, because that meant the entire guild would probably know about them a few hours later if you had the chance to walk across someone blabby and just no, they couldn’t have that.

They never really went on a date truly speaking. Dates were for people that wanted to get to know each other better, and they often felt like they knew too much of each other. Even if sometimes they both felt they didn’t at all. Besides, other towns were just too far and travelling would take the evening away, especially when one party had a really hard time with trains. They just stayed at his place, hung out, screwed a lot, and talked about things they usually didn’t. Like feelings (about everything but each other, way too early for that), but they mostly liked themselves just being. Which was very odd because they were both way too active for that. Mirajane couldn’t spend an afternoon off without cooking or working on her songwriting while Laxus didn’t have afternoons off because he filled them up with training.

That’s how they found each other at his place that one night after ten months of seeing each other between his jobs and her busy schedule at the hall, talking on his couch as her legs lazily laid on his lap while they were both eating what she had just cooked after some amount of time screwing up on that exact same couch. She was wearing one of his t-shirts while he had just slipped a pair of sweatpants, and they were just talking, or at least they were before silence fell through, but it was fine, they were just being anyway.

“Dragon ?” She finally said while rolling a mouthful of spaghetti around her fork.

She only got a weird grumble in response to which she lightly chuckled.

“Have you ever thought about dying ?”

He blinked a little before swallowing his mouthful with difficulty and taking a sip of the beer that rested on the coffee table.

“the old man getting that unbearable, huh ?” He just smirked as she only raised an eyebrow that disappeared through her bangs, still a bit sweaty he noticed.

“I’m serious.”

He put down his plate as it was now empty and looked at her again after she did the same. She only stared at him, her bright blue eyes piercing his without any awkwardness while he settled back, bringing her legs against him and stroking them slightly.

Typical demon, tackling the real big questions like it was her usual Tuesday.

“Well, yeah, a little.” He only shrugged. “Like everyone else, I think.”

“Some people never think about it.”

“Well, I’m not everyone.”

“Of course not, dragon.” She giggled. “But that’s not answering the question.”

He only grumbled and looked at her like he didn’t like when she was talking to him like that. Which, of course, he did.

“I mean, I’ve already seen you almost dying on a hospital bed, didn’t that make you think ?”

Of course it did, how could it not ? He just didn’t like talking about it.

He sighed and brought back her legs against him before sliding to lie on top of her. She just giggled as she laid down too and slid her fingers into his hair before landing a quick kiss on the top of his head.

“I don’t know.” He mumbled. “I guess I just tried to avoid it”.

She hummed, she was going to fall asleep, he could tell by the way her breath was getting deeper and jolted as she was trying to keep herself awake.

“Have you ever thought about dying ?” He asked then with a frown.

“Sure.”

He frowned even more as he settled against her breasts, way too comfortable to be true, but loud as his ears were now trying to avoid getting completely drown into her heart’s beating. Sometimes, being a dragon slayer had his inconveniences. Not that he couldn’t stand to hear that, he just wished he didn’t have to concentrate that much to listen to whatever she was saying.

“…I mean, sure, my parents died a long time ago but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have to go through adolescence. Quite the opposite really.”

Shit, he really had no idea of what she was talking about now.

“What do you think ?” She asked then, completely oblivious to the fact that he hadn’t followed her reasoning at all.

He just grumbled. Hopefully, that would do the trick.

She just giggled and he clearly felt it as the hiccups shook her chest.

“Sure, when Lisanna died, I thought about jumping off a bridge, but… you know, my sister had just died so it was quite normal.”

He blinked, not remembering she couldn’t see his eyes at all and therefore wouldn’t be able to answer his puzzledness. He clearly heard her heart racing though as she said that. Apparently not as laid back about it as she was trying to seem.

He lifted his head up then, staring at her with a slight frown and a smirk. She just giggled even more at his cuteness and pushed the golden locks out of his face before planting a long kiss on his lips. He laid against her again and slid his right hand under the t-shirt, stroking the naked skin hidden by the fabric. She just shivered and seemed to relax again.

“Didn’t you almost die against one of the spriggans back then ?” He suddenly inquired as the idea passed his mind.

She tensed. He could also hear her heartbeat getting quicker again.

“Yeah, that was kind of traumatic.” She just giggled while kissing his hair again, probably trying to distract him, as if he would let her (he did, a lot, but the point was not tonight).

“What happened ?” He didn’t let go. “Lisanna said you got shot in the chest, but that seems unlikely.”

She sighed, her heart getting into some very weird tempo as she tried to speak.

“Why ?”

“Well, for starters you wouldn’t be able to be here now if you had.” He paused, listening to the race that was happening right below his ear. “Except if you’re actually dead right now and this is just me imagining you or something.”

She frowned.

“What, you mean like a ghost ?”

“Like in that weird movie with the kid when you learn the adult was a ghost since the beginning.”

She just frowned a lot. Her heart calming as he spoke.

“Do you have a lot of sex with ghosts ?”

“Well, I didn’t know you were one until now.”

She giggled.

“I guess I should stop seeing other ghosts now that you’re one.”

He went up in pain as the palm of her hand abruptly struck his head. But laid down again when he saw her still grinning. She felt calmer under his head now. Then, it raced again.

“It didn’t really hurt.” She just said and paused but went on as he was clearly not planning on replying. “I think it hurt on the moment but then I didn’t feel anything at all.”

He only rearranged his position and tried to find an adequate response as he could feel her heart getting so quick while she waited for his reaction.

“I didn’t see anything.” She paused. “People say you’re supposed to see your life flashing before your eyes but everything was just so dark. I still have a scar though.”

It wasn’t losing his rhythm as he tried to speak but she beat him to it.

“I guess, I was just disappointed to be alone, you know.”

He grumbled, losing his answer because her heart was taking too much of his hearing for him to concentrate. What time was it again ?

“I kind of regretted sending Lisanna away.” She finally said while the beating went slower. “But then, I just thought that if she had been here, she would have probably been dead too.”

“Maybe she could have helped you not getting killed.” He suddenly said, getting into some dangerous territory he knew.

“Maybe.” She simply replied.

He didn’t know if he had just said the wrong thing, but her heart beating seemed to finally calm down. And then it was just silent for a while. It was odd just them being, her snoozing lightly as he stroked her skin. It was too damn rare he thought. But then, he just came to the idea that doing more often would take all the fun out of it, and he didn’t like getting bored at all and neither did she for that matter. Things were fine as they were. Well, maybe not all of them, but then, who cared ?

“I guess, at the end, I just regretted not kicking your ass when I could.”

And he just laughed.

[angstyaches]

hey em here

'did that sound come from your stomach?', 'I think I'm going to be sick' and 'can you make it to the toilet?' for sick charlie with caretaker shayne?? we all know I just love them wayy too much lol

My lovely Em, thank you for choosing these three beautiful lines and requesting these boys! I hope I did it justice, and that you don’t mind the alcohol aspect.

 A/N 1: I know my last update was plot-related, so please think of this as happening at a different time to all of the Ouija board drama (possibly after). I just wanted to write something light and fluffy for these two since they’re going through so much crap right now. Shayne even makes a stupid dad joke. I hope you guys enjoy it!

CW: alcohol, nausea, emeto, language, Feelings.

A/N 2: Please drink responsibly! I have had a nasty relationship with alcohol in real life, and it’s just not worth all the pain it causes. Also, in the country where I grew up, the legal drinking age is 18, so it’s the same in StW. 

 ___

Back when he’d first laid eyes on the Mulberry house, the first thing Charlie had gotten excited about was the fact that it had a patio, paved with smooth concrete slabs and surrounded by a wooden railing overlooking the rest of the garden. He could instantly picture himself having his first alcoholic drink out there, either at sunset or under the stars; realistically with his parents, but ideally with a friend, if he ever managed to make one.

Admittedly, this wasn’t exactly what he’d pictured. For starters, there was no furniture on the patio; his parents had never gotten around to buying any, and probably wouldn’t, now that the house was on the market again. 

On top of that, the only alcohol in the house was a sketchy bottle of whisky his dad had received as a gift and forgotten about, and he didn’t even have the proper glasses to make it feel sophisticated. But now that his days living there were numbered, Charlie didn’t know how long he had to tick it off his bucket list.

He also hadn’t expected to make a friend; and he certainly hadn’t expected that friend to be someone like the guy in leather and Doc Martens that was lying next to him on the concrete slabs.

Charlie folded one ankle over the other in his blue and white Converse, inching them a little closer to Shayne’s. For a second, he almost forgot that their legs were upside down, stretched up so that their feet rested on top of the wooden bannister. Bathed in the faint light of the kitchen through the patio doors. The light wasn’t so harsh as to black out the night sky, and Charlie dizzily found himself wishing he knew the names of some interesting constellations he could point out. 

If he let himself zone out just a bit, it felt like they were actually sitting upright, and flying through space.

How much have you had, exactly? Charlie batted a hand lightly in the air, hoping that would somehow make the demon Charlie Two sit quietly to the side for a minute.

“Your dad must have really pissed off whoever gave him that whisky,” Shayne mumbled, sticking out his tongue and making a face. “I think they were trying to poison him.”

“It’s not that bad,” Charlie laughed. He reached for his glass, which was sitting on the concrete by his hip, and slowly started to bring it up towards his mouth.

“It is that bad, and Charlie? You can’t drink upside down.”

He’s possibly right.

“No, no, we’re not upside down,” Charlie complained at both Shayne and Charlie Two. He rested the glass on his chest for a moment, using his free hand to draw a line from his belly button to his throat, but only focusing on Shayne this time. “My tummy’s just about level with my mouth, so it’ll still go in the right direction.”

“Hmm,” Shayne said. “Hard to argue with that logic.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got this.”

Charlie tilted his head forward and tipped the glass against his lips. He let a few sips of the cold-yet-burning liquid splash over his tongue until there was enough for him to gulp. It seemed to catch in his throat, and he stifled a cough, almost spilling his drink all over himself.

“Idiot.” Shayne reached over to grab the glass from him.

Charlie laughed and coughed at the same time before resting his head against the ground again. He felt that gulp of liquid like a finger dragging down the centre of his chest, in the opposite direction of the line he’d traced himself. It burned a little as it reached his belly.

“You okay, or what?”

“I – yep,” Charlie giggled, blinking harshly as the stars seemed to swirl a bit, like a Van Gogh painting.

“Maybe drinks on the patio wasn’t your brightest idea,” Shayne mused. “Neither of us has the stomach for this shit.”

“Well, maybe you don’t –” Charlie’s hand knocked against the glass, and Shayne had to move it out of the way again, but not before huffing in annoyance.

Charlie put his hand out again. He couldn’t remember why he’d been reaching for Shayne’s belly, but he laid his hand on it anyway, tickling gently until Shayne wriggled in discomfort and took hold of Charlie’s hand just to keep it still.

He slowly turned his head, heart fluttering as Shayne turned his too. His deep brown eyes were brightened, made sharp by the alcohol rather than dull. They lay like that for a few minutes, silently feeling each other’s pulse in their palms.

Charlie felt a little knot of tension in the pit of his stomach, and unfortunately it wasn’t the usual butterflies. The initial warmth of the liquor was turning into something fizzy and unsettling. For half a second, Charlie was terrified he was going to belch right into Shayne’s face, but instead, the ball of pressure slipped inwards. The noise that resulted was high-pitched and seemed to go in a spiral pattern through his gut.

“Did –?” Shayne’s heavy black eyelashes blinked with some effort, like it was hard to draw himself out of whatever he’d been thinking about. “Did that sound come from your stomach?”

Charlie nodded, moving his hand up to his mouth as he hiccupped loudly. Pain flared across his diaphragm.

“Let’s sit up, yeah?” Shayne asked. “Your gravity’s probably all messed up.”

Shayne took his legs down and sat up, reaching out for Charlie with both hands. Charlie let himself be pulled up, shivering as the night air hit his back. That bubble of uneasiness started to circle back towards the centre of his stomach. The sudden movement, and that shift in gravity that Shayne had thought would help, were actually making the pain worse, and he bent forward slightly, willing the patio to stop rocking beneath him.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

“You’re not, you’re not,” Shayne assured him, still holding his hands. “Breathe with me, okay? All the way in. And hold it for six seconds.”

Charlie groaned. “Since when are you so zen?”

“Sshh, shut up and do it.” Shayne closed his eyes, stroking his thumbs against the sides of Charlie’s hands and nearly making him melt into a puddle. Charlie wanted to do what he was suggesting, but Shayne looked so calm and happy that he couldn’t stop staring at him.

He couldn’t exactly sit still either, with all the gurgling going on in his gut. He gave Shayne’s hands a shake to get his attention, whimpering and squirming uncomfortably on the concrete.

Shayne opened his eyes. He only had to look at Charlie’s face for a second before sighing in resignation.

“Alright, come on, lightweight. Can you make it to the toilet?”

“Yes…” Charlie said optimistically as Shayne helped him to his feet; the patio door was locked, so he would have to circle around to the front door, make it through the echoey front hall, stumble into the closest bathroom, which was in the downstairs en-suite –

“Actually? No,” Charlie groaned. Once the blood rushed away from his head, his stomach and brain got even more confused about which way was up and which was down, and he felt little toxic bubbles pressing up towards his throat.

He turned and grabbed onto the wooden bannister overlooking the back garden. He leaned forward, jaw hanging open, belly pressed lightly against the wood. Shayne’s cold hands ran up Charlie’s arm, settling across his shoulders and making him shiver.

He chucked loudly over the bannister, covering the manicured grass below. The sick looked exactly how it had felt before coming up; foamy and disgusting. The heaves seemed to come from right down in his gut and made his whole body clench and tremble. Whatever they’d liberated from the cupboard was really not agreeing with his system. 

He gave one last gag that didn’t seem like it was ever going to end. Finally, he gasped in some of the night air and let his head hang slack. The inside of his skull felt like it had been scalded like a teapot.

“You alright?”

“Oh, um...” Charlie started a bit at the sound of Shayne’s voice; he’d almost forgotten he was there, even though he’d been holding his shoulders the entire time. He lifted his head back in over the bannister, keeping his arms slumped over it. “I kind of wish you hadn’t just seen that.”

“Seriously?” Shayne scoffed behind him. “You threw up all over me once, and this is what you’re embarrassed about?”

“Yeah, but this is pathetic,” Charlie whined, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “One stupid drink and I heave my guts up?”

Shayne slid one hand over Charlie’s waist and stomach, resting it at the slight curve at the bottom of his belly. “Nah, you’re good. Everything’s still there.”

Despite the wrenching nausea and the pain in his head, Charlie had to choke out a laugh at the fact that Shayne had made a joke without relying on sarcasm.

“If it makes you feel any better, I feel like shit too,” Shayne said, gently running his hand back up Charlie’s stomach. “We shouldn’t have started out on whisky.”

Charlie gripped the bannister and tried to ease himself upright, but his legs felt so wobbly that he would have dropped to his knees if Shayne wasn’t holding him.

“Thank you,” Charlie said weakly. He half-turned around, putting a hand on Shayne’s waist to steady himself. He shivered again as Shayne supported his weight with one hand, brushing a strand of Charlie’s hair back with the other. The pit of his stomach tingled again, this time without the nauseous fizzling.

“You okay, Charlie?”

“Yeah, I think - I think gravity found me.”

[haro-whumps]

Group Whumpees 2: Grey

A continuation of the story inspired by @whumping-every-day and @justtorturewhump

CW: modern slavery, referenced abuse, multiple whumpees, aftermath of torture

Tag List: @bleeding-demon-teeth @redwingedwhump @whimperwoods @inpainandsuffering @theycomeinthrees

First

Galo sat at the head of the over-long table, its fancifully carved wood bare except for his spot. He should… invest in a centerpiece. A candle set. Something. Pasta with chicken and braised carrots to the side were artfully arranged on the over-fancy dinnerware his aunt boasted about but hardly used, and Galo had a very large glass of wine set out for him.

He guessed it made sense none of them would eat with him. Or had already eaten. Something, he wasn’t sure, it just, it made sense that he was alone at the table. It was a… very large table, in a very large space, chandelier hanging with a vacant sort of light.

The food was good though, and Galo was pretty sure that wasn’t just his hunger talking. The carrots were a perfect texture, the chicken juicy, the sauce wonderful. And pasta, well, it was hard to go wrong with pasta. 

“Is everything to your liking, Master?” Greyson asked quietly, bowing shallowly as he topped off the wine. Galo briefly considered stopping him, but, eh. Why bother. He could really use a drink or four after the day he’d had.

“Yeah, thanks! Everything tastes great. Did you all make it or?”

“Sasha is your chef, Master.”

“I’ll have to thank her next time I see her,” Galo said with a smile. Greyson hesitated, lips parted, but then he nodded, eyes submissively downcast.

“Hey, Grey,” Galo started, voice gentle. “Or Greyson? Probably rude of me to nickname you without asking.”

“You may call me whatever you desire, Master,” Greyson said, and Galo huffed. Er, whoops, bad idea. Greyson winced.

“Greyson,” Galo tried, watching the man’s adam apple bob in his throat, “You up to take a seat with me? Or would that, like, freak you out?”

Greyson’s eyes barely widened, and he looked between Galo and the chair Galo had nudged towards him. 

“Master?”

Hm. A direct order might help him feel more confident, but it could also box him in, and Galo didn’t want to force him. “Up to you, dude, either way it’s no skin off my nose.”

Greyson slowly sat, and Galo smiled. “Figured we might catch up. Get to know each other. We didn’t speak much when I was a kid.”

Greyson stared at him, expression unreadable but his shoulders drawn in, for a long moment. “Ffforgive me, Master,” he said breathily, “but I do not know what I should say.”

“Ah, my bad, that probably wasn’t a great conversation starter,” Galo said with a rub to his undercut. “How’ve you been? I think the last time I saw you I was… 15? 16? God, it’s been a while.”

“...I have been alright, Master. And--yourself?” he asked hesitantly, still very quiet, face still very blank.

“Good! A lot better than when I was still living with my dad, I’ll tell you that. Moved into my own place, got on T, started working out regularly, and now it looks like I can quit my boring day job,” Galo said with a smile. “Hell, I could probably go back to school, too, once everything is settled. That’d be really nice.”

Greyson smiled, that barely-visible quirk of his lips. “You were always the cleverest of her nephews and nieces, Master Galo, if I may be as bold as to state.”

Galo snorted with a bright grin. “Yeah, well, don’t tell my siblings, but it wasn’t exactly a large feat.”

Greyson actually chuckled along with Galo’s laugh, at that, and Galo was feeling pretty good that he had made himself a friend, but then Greyson convulsed, hand over his mouth, arm tight around his stomach.

“Shit!” Galo cursed, getting up immediately and going to his side. Greyson was trying to stand, something eerie about the way he moved, and wouldn’t meet Galo’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Master, I’m so sorry, Master,” Greyson whispered, barely audible.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Galo murmured, broad palm settling atop Greyson’s back, other hand hovering in front of Greyson, ready to catch him if he convulsed again. This was moving too fast, Galo needed to slow it down. “Shhh, shh, what’s wrong, Greyson?”

“I…” Greyson swallowed audibly, his adam’s apple bobbing. “I apologize, Master, but I think I was overzealous in sitting alongside you.”

Oh. Okay. Panic response, of some sort. Greyson was… also traumatized. That was weird to think. But then again, Galo considered, he couldn’t imagine anyone living with Auntie Bethany for over thirty years making it out scott-free. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You did what I asked you to, this is technically my fault for pushing you too hard.”

Greyson shook his head. “I apologize, Master. I reacted poorly.”

Hrm. Deja vu. Hadn’t Nyla said that, when he’d accidentally clipped her on the temple?

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Galo assured, rubbing his hand up and down Greyson’s back. Something felt weird about it, but Galo was more interested in helping Greyson calm down than whatever weird ping his brain received. What to do, what to do?

“Hey, Greyson,” Galo said, giving the hand in front of his face a very small wave. “I really like those carrots; could you go get some more for me?”

Success! He guessed right. The presence of an achievable goal seemed to cut into Greyson’s impromptu panic, and he nodded sharply before gliding out of the dining room with a purpose. It would probably help for him to be removed from the situation that had freaked him out, too. 

Ah, yikes. Galo sat back down with two hands in his hair, sighing deeply. Looks like they were all gonna be a delicate touch, after all? He’d had high hopes for Greyson, since the guy had known Galo since he was in braids and overalls, but, well. Guess that’s what living with a real harpy could do to a man. Man, why would Auntie Bethany have even chosen people like Nyla, if this was what she’d managed to do to Greyson? People this skittish couldn’t possibly sate her need for endless complaining and beration, could they?

A weird, half-formed thought hovered on the edge of Galo’s awareness, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. He was tired. It had been a long day at work, a long day with the hospital staff and arranging which funeral home she’d be sent to and the lawyers and a long evening here in this massive castle. It was past bedtime. That, and he really had drunk a lot of wine.

“Thanks, man,” Galo said when Greyson came back, looking his usual calm, elegant self.

--

Four sets of eyes turned to him when he entered the kitchen.

“Grey?” Nyla asked, her eyes haunted. He couldn’t imagine he looked very good, right that moment.

“Master would like seconds of the carrots, Sasha,” Greyson said first, getting the priority information out while he still felt like he could speak. He was sweaty on the temples, and Nyla was staring at him with pinched misery, Lilah clinging to her skirt with a vacant stare into the middle distance.

Greyson took a breath, slow but still shallow, and wiped at his temples. “Master’s games are different than Mistress’s were.” He was familiar with the way the others flinched, the way Evan’s face screwed up with anger before settling into miserable resignation, the way Sasha blinked hard to keep her tears at bay with her hands not pausing in their task. “But he is lenient with failure.”

Greyson vaguely remembered that from when Galo was a youth, too. It had been nearly twenty years, but he remembered Galo being a cheerful, thoughtful child, kindest that Greyson had ever met. He would be better than Mistress had been, Greyson felt relatively confident. But the man differed a great deal from his teenage years, so who was to say what else had changed?

“Did he mention how long he’ll be lenient with failure?” Evan asked.

“He didn’t,” Greyson stated, taking the plate from Sasha, “But if I had to guess, we’re being given an adjustment period.”

Greyson left the kitchen with the plate balanced perfectly on his fingers, spine straight, posture the same as it had been for almost all his life. Master’s plate was empty when he returned, and he wasn’t sure if he should apologize for making him wait or keep quiet. Master ate faster than the Mistress had. This was important; they’d have to adjust to him, cater to his needs personally.

When Master thanked him, Greyson relaxed, a little. He wasn’t sure how Master Galo’s manners played into the game that was currently afoot, but it was nice, to be treated in this way. Greyson stood, hands clasped behind his back, as Master ate, at his beck and call. Greyson bowed low when he announced that he was turning in for the night.

“Goodnight, Master,” Greyson said, voice composed again, and returned to the kitchen with two handfuls of dishes.

Again, four pairs of eyes landed on him when he came through the door, but he offered them a shaky smile, this time.

“Master has gone to bed for the night,” he announced quietly, and the tension in the room palpably dropped. 

“Sasha, take Lilah to bed, please,” Nyla ordered softly. “Greyson, Evan,” she looked between them, and the tension caught its second wind.

One of them would have to go. Usually, Mistress would specify which one she wanted (and it was usually Evan or Lilah), but apparently Master’s game involved them having to make the decision. Greyson hoped nothing terrible would happen if they guessed wrong.

He’d been lenient, so far. He’d been lenient with Nyla, more than they’d hoped, and lenient with Greyson; friendly even.

“I’ll go,” Greyson volunteered. “Master has shown a certain amount of favoritism, so far. And I’ve done this for a long time. I’ll go.”

Evan looked relieved, Nyla, torn. Greyson put his hand on her shoulder and she thinned her lips in a stubborn line.

“You’re the one who leads us,” he reminded quietly, “We need you at your best, tomorrow, while we navigate… this. I’ll go.”

Nyla placed her hand over Greyson’s, nodding reluctantly. “Evan and I will clean up the kitchen. We’ll see you in the morning.”

And so Greyson left the kitchen once again, and quietly, gracefully moved up the stairs, down the hall, and into Master’s new bedroom. The running water of the shower sounded from the cracked doorway of the bathroom, so Greyson settled himself onto his knees in the middle of the room, removed and folded his shirt neatly, and waited.

Next

[thyra279]

High Hopes

For Day 4 of the Good Omens Celebration 2020.

Prompts: “Force” and “fruit” (this one got away with me but I’m gonna post it here for consistency as well as on Ao3.

On a warm autumn's day in 2005, Aziraphale's mobile phone rang out the same jarring electronic jingle 72 times before he managed to locate it behind an old bookcase full of A Breefe History of Northern Shropshire, vol. 1-281. Pushing the bookcase aside, he dusted off the little black-and-white screen and fixed it with a hard stare. The mobile, which had been firing off its jingles increasingly furiously, grew soft and mellow on the 73th ring, and Aziraphale turned his attention to the Nokia's caller.

"Hullo, Crowley. You know, I never should have let you talk to into getting me this portable telephone, it keeps moving about and hiding itself in the-"

"Aziraphale." Oh. Crowley's voice sounded harsh, which wasn't unusual, but also very noticeably strained, which was.

"Are you alright, dear?"

"Uhhrm…"

"Crowley? Whatever's the matter?"

"I've… I've been arrested."

"Have you, now?" Aziraphale let out a relieved little chuckle and sat down in his favourite chair. It was nothing the demon hadn't tried before. Keep at shadowy, nefarious business long enough, and it was bound to happen. He'd lost count of how often Crowley had found himself jumbled up with the police.[1]

Aziraphale himself had found himself come into too close contact with London's various police forces a few times since their invention. He usually encountered the Mets, though he had a soft spot for The City of London Police and carried out his substitute demonic temptations within their Square Mile if he could help it. Politicians and bankers were soft targets. Besides, the City Police always served up bourbon biscuits during their questioning. The angel idly wondered if Crowley had been served up any biscuity treats during his questioning and before being hit with an embarrassing pinch of jealousy.

"When'll you be done, do you reckon? You could come over for wine and commiserations later, perhaps? I think a Chateau Cheval should do quite nicely." He lifted a hand to play with the phone cable, then remembered it wasn't there. "…Bring some biscuits."

"It'saaah. It's a little more complicated than that, I'm afraid."

"What's the problem?"

"Nfffhhh well, I've been in here for coming up two weeks for starters." Aziraphale sat up.

"Crowley, are you- are you in jail?"

"I, uh. Yeah."

"Well, get out of there!"

"Told you it was complicated."

"Do you need me to, ah, to come and get you?"

There was an interesting kind of silence at the other end. "Angel, are you offering to come and break me out of jail?"

"I'm an angel, I do not break anyone out of jails," Aziraphale deadpanned with the practice of several centuries. "It would be a rescue."

"Well, it won't work. I mean, it would work. I could easily get out of here, that's not the issue. Wouldn't solve the actual problem."

"What is the problem then?"

"It's erhhh…"

Aziraphale shifted in his seat, growing a little impatient. "Where are you? What happened?"

The demon sighed. "I'm at Dartmoor Prison. Got arrested near Torquay."

"What were you doing in Cornwall of all places?"

"I… well. I've got a piece of land near Torquay, in a nice deserted place. Thought it'd be out of the way enough. It's quite a big piece of land, really. Massive, actually."

The angel couldn't suppress another tut. "What would you need a massive piece of land for, Crowley?"

"I, ah, I built a farm." Aziraphale could sense the demon's embarrassment pulsing down the line. He himself was caught entirely off guard at the aggressively urbanite yuppie's confession, but tried to sound accepting.

"Oh. Right. What do you do with it, as it were?"

"I grow… things."

"Yes, well-"

"Mainly weed."

"…What?"

"Marijuana, Angel."

"Yes, I know what weed is, thank you." For the second time, Aziraphale felt a rush of relief. "That's alright, then, isn't it? I'm sure growing illegal cannabis is a perfectly acceptable demonic activity. I assume that's why you were arrested?"

"Yup." For a moment, a hint of pride entered the demon's voice. "I've grown lots of it. Don't know if you saw the newspapers last Monday? Apparently, there was quite a big buzz about it being the second largest marijuana plant ever discovered in the UK?"

"Oh, yes," Aziraphale crooned. He hadn't so much as looked at an earthly newspaper for several months, but he didn't like to dampen the demon's (evil) spirits when he was already down. "It all sounded terribly impressive."

"Hnghyeah, well. The coppers said so themselves, actually. They only got a preliminary sweep of the place done, though, before I set my lawyers on them. We've been fighting their warrant. It's been good fun, actually, lots of frustrations all around. Easy job for my side, you know. And we always get bonus points on our job performance for getting lawyers involved. You know I can really use the, erh, goodwill this'll generate downstairs, it'll sort me out for the next few years."

Aziraphale nodded absentmindedly, which Crowley seemed to understand.

"Unfortunately, even my bastard lawyers and enough money to bribe a small state haven't been able to get the judge to drop the warrant. So according to the lawyers, Cornwall's righteous police force, narcotics division, will be able to do a full sweep of the farm some time the day after tomorrow."

"And why exactly is that a problem?" The angel offered when Crowley fell quiet. He was met with a great, heaving sigh loud enough to hear through the telephone line.

"The thing is." The demon drew a breath, then let it out again through hissing teeth. "The thing is. The weed farm's a front."

"…What?"

Crowley sounded flustered now, voice straining again with every word. "It's a front. The cannabis. 'S a cover."

"Why would you… what were you… what in Heaven's name are you doing that's so terrible that you thought a cannabis plantation would serve as an appropriate cover-up, Crowley?"

"Well, well hnghfff. Look, I can't tell you over the phone, I've got a reputation to maintain, alright? Anthony J. Crowley's been going strong since the war, and, and- don’t really want to let him go. Just. Just go out there tomorrow – I know you've got nothing on, don't even start – and get rid of the evidence for me. No, nah, leave the weed crops. But there's a barn. A green barn in the middle of it all. Burn it, please. Maybe don't look inside it, but – eurgh – s'fine if you have to. I don't care how you do it, but get rid of everything in there."

Aziraphale hesitated, more shaken by Crowley than he'd been for a good fifty years.

"I'm, erh, I don't really know, Crowley, I think you should tell me-"

"Aziraphale, please. Please, Angel." Crowley never begged.

"Oh. Oh, alright then." There was a rush of demonic relief down the phone.

"Tha-"

"Don't."

"Look, I'll make it up to you, alright. Whatever you want. Tell you what, I'll buy you sushi at that stuck-up little Japanese place you like so much, every bloody month for the next decade. If you want."

"Alright," Aziraphale huffed.

The demon started to sound slightly more like himself. "I'll throw in a good sake and dessert too if you promise never to bring this up ever again."

"I'll have to see for myself how bad this is, Crowley, before I make good on that promise."

"Fair, that's fair. Just please, Angel, 's no big deal, okay? It was just a little lapse of judgement. Here's how to get to the barn…"

And so, the very next day, the Principality found himself wandering down a dirt track in Cornwall, sore and irritable after hours on overnight public transport and more nervous than he'd care to admit at what he might have agreed to. The stench of the marijuana greeted him long before the greenhouses even became visible. A single police car was parked further down the track at the main entrance to the farm, so on reaching the edge of it, he looked casually left and right before dipping below the police tape. No one noticed him, and he quickly disappeared between row after endless row of huts and greenhouses.

The place was like a labyrinth – literally – and he had to rely on Crowley's instructions to find its centre. The air hummed with the insistent song of thousands of heat lamps. Aziraphale was beginning to suspect that he wasn't entirely immune to the charming waft of cannabis in the hot air around him when suddenly, there it was, a singular old green barn. It was singing at him. Aziraphale wasn't entirely certain he wasn't hallucinating it, but it felt sturdy enough beneath his grasp when he tore the heavy padlock away from the door. The door rattled irately at him, but at least the barn stopped singing.

He hesitated, one hand on the door. Crowley had always taken care, he suspected, to hide the darker sides of his demonic activities from him. He wasn't at all sure he wanted to be privy to them. Unbidden scenes of blood and chains and fires and screams sidled into his mind, finally breaking through the defences he'd constructed as soon as he'd put down the phone last night. He didn't want to know. And yet, he'd promised. He was an angel, and Crowley needed his help, and he'd promised.

Here goes, he thought, allowing himself a deep, steadying gulp of air (and wasn't that lovely, the sweet heady rush that came with it) before pushing the door aside.

Aziraphale blinked. Then blinked again. He blinked a total of 15 times before he entered.

Aziraphale had tried very hard not to imagine all the sinister things he might find in the middle of Crowley's marijuana plot. Even if he'd given himself over to pondering every possibility, he wouldn't have expected this.

The barn was lit up by the same warm, red glow as the rest of the farm. A few dusty skylights gave the room a sense of space that it didn't quite deserve. The air smelt sweet in here too, but it wasn't the pungent suffocation of the cannabis. No, in here, the air hummed with unexpected freshness, with the heady, delicious scent of fruit. There they were, lined up along the walls, a few peach trees, lemons, pears and berries – roses and apple trees too. All ripe, ready for the picking.

The fruit trees couldn't keep his attention, however. In the middle of the room was a little meadow full of wildflowers, bursting with colour. Bees whipped around from stem to stem, and towering over them all, stretching towards the skylights, were the tallest sunflowers Aziraphale had ever seen.

It was beautiful. An age went by while Aziraphale explored the flowers, overcome with surprise at their maker as he smelt, touched and tasted his way through the barn. He senses Crowley in every petal, in every lush green leaf, and couldn't stop himself from lying down in the middle of the meadow, giant sunflowers watching over him. He imagined Crowley here, sneaking in to do the same. It seemed absurd, the smooth, black hardness of Crowley in the middle of this colourful, buzzing force of life. Aziraphale ached to see him here, almost imagined that he could.

The skylights had gone dark above him by the time he got up. Only once on the other end of the barn, he faced what he'd come here to do. It seemed a terrible tragedy, and yet he'd made a commitment to Crowley.

With a great sigh, he lowered his trusty satchel from his shoulder, taking out a stack of little brown bags that hadn't been in there a moment before. He went around the meadow again, caressed every flower, letting it know how beautiful it was. He persuaded even the looming sunflowers to bend down and let go of a few of their seeds. Then he rounded on the fruit trees, trusty tartan tin in hand, and picked a single piece of fruit from each and every one and a little prickly cutting from every rose.

Satchel in hand, the angel took one final look at Crowley's dirty secret, this micro-paradise he'd hidden away. Then he snapped his fingers and sent it all to somewhere he hoped was good, somewhere with fresh air and a warming sun, and just enough rainfall. He didn't notice the extra weight of his bag, and he kept it close, held it in his lap on the sleepy train back to London. Only once he made it safely back to the bookshop did he let go, taking care to count each and every brown bag, folding out their creases and speaking to them gently, as if the plants could still hear him.

He spent the next two weeks drying out the fruit until they let go of their precious cores, and when it all was ready, he put it all in the best firesafe and airtight container he could find.

The container found a new home behind a bookcase full of A Breefe History of Northern Shropshire, and it survived a fire, the apocalypse and the layers of dust that settled over it in the years after that.

Aziraphale never mentioned a word to Crowley, enjoying plenty of sushi, sake and dessert for his efforts.

He carefully guarded the little seedlings until a day, very far into the future indeed, after yet another war, when the angel casually floated the idea of the two of them acquiring a little cottage together somewhere outside of London and the demon scoffed in his face at such a ridiculous suggestion. Somewhere, perhaps, with a nice little garden that Crowley might take care of. He had just the thing to get it started.

[1] Some time during a dull few years in the 1970s, Aziraphale had gifted him a scratch map of the UK counties, instructing the demon to scratch off every county he'd been arrested in. Last time the angel had seen it, sometime during 2003, two thirds of the map had been revealed.

Link for the other (shorter) stories on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24037873/chapters/57837565 

[mostweakhamlets]

Parsley, Thyme, Sage, Daffodils

Finally a full fic to this post

Summary: Aziraphale has a popular cooking show on the internet. Crowley dedicates part of his garden to the hobby, growing herbs and berries. Crowley also struggles to handle life after the apocalypse. Established relationship. South Downs fic. Features PTSD.

On AO3

By autumn, Crowley’s garden was beginning to die. He thought about yelling at them to keep growing past the season, but Aziraphale had gently reminded him that they had neighbors who most likely did not want to be disturbed any further by his plant discipline. Crowley didn’t necessarily care what the humans thought when he was in his garden, but he cared about Aziraphale’s desire to be good neighbors. So, he let his plants naturally wilt.

He had only a few handfuls of herbs that were salvageable. He was disappointed, but he wouldn’t let the plants know that right then. In a few weeks, he’d uproot them and let them think about their actions in the trash bin.  

Crowley tucked the handle of his basket in the crook of his arm, holding his pruning shears and gloves in the opposite hand and pushing open the door of the cottage with his shoulder.

“And I’m very proud of all of you who are cooking for the first time,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley stepped into the kitchen. Aziraphale stood in front of their stove, his camera sitting just to the side. The aroma of fruit baking flooded the room and immediately Crowley felt indescribably warm. It wasn’t so much a physical warmth as much as it was emotional.

“I enjoy reading how you’re all doing with your first meals. You’re coming along wonderfully. I know that some of you feel as though you’re struggling, but if you keep at it, you’ll be able to look back and see how much you’ve improved.”

Crowley was about to pass behind Aziraphale, hoping he’d go unnoticed so that he could tend to his herb clippings in peace. But of course, Aziraphale turned to him as soon as he was close enough and pulled him in-frame.

Neither was sure why, but Crowley was painfully camera shy. Perhaps it was his fear that it was easy documentation for Above and Below in case they thought it was time to interfere again. It also could have been because whenever Crowley made a cameo in a video, viewers left a flood of adoring comments.

His husband is so sweet for growing everything for him!!

I wish I had a husband that helped me with my hobbies like this.

Anthony should be in more videos! I love seeing them together. It’s like their soulmates.

Since Aziraphale had introduced him to his audience as “Anthony,” they were just as interested in catching glimpses of him as they were watching Aziraphale’s newest recipes. Crowley had never been in such a position before. He was a demon. He was supposed to be hated by his peers and cause chaos for humans--and he had accomplished both with no problems. He wasn’t supposed to be liked.

He hadn’t been liked by so many others since he fell.

The only person who truly liked him was Aziraphale.

And if the humans watching those videos knew what Crowley really was, they wouldn’t be so eager to see him--to like him.

“Taste this, my dear,” Aziraphale said.

He held a spoonful of jam to Crowley’s lips with his free hand cautiously under it, ready to catch any dripping.

Crowley leaned forward to wrap his lips around the spoon.

“Do you like it?”

Crowley’s cheeks heated. He nodded.

Aziraphale rested his hand on Crowley’s waist.

“Thank you, my dear.”  

Most likely his shyness came from the small tender moments Aziraphale was not afraid of showing the world. It had been the topic of many long conversations after Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand in St. James Park, causing Crowley to freeze and break out in a cold sweat. Being discreet had always been their top priority. For 6,000 years, someone would have surely seen them if they embraced in the middle of London. But now, Aziraphale had assured Crowley, things were different. They no longer needed to hide, but Aziraphale would go as slow as Crowley needed him to.

It was almost funny how their roles had switched after the apocalypse.

“You’re welcome, angel,” he mumbled.

Aziraphale smiled and let him go. There would be an offer later, like there always was, to delete whatever parts of the video Crowley was in.

Since the apocalypse and all the trouble that came with it, Crowley had been jumpy. He would wake in the middle of the night from nightmares. He would stop breathing if he saw a tall man with a square jaw in a gray suit (and though he didn’t need to breathe, it still felt wrong not being able to). But Aziraphale was always there to soothe him back to sleep or guide him away from the stranger that triggered such strong feelings. And every night he made a homemade meal, telling Crowley on bad days, “you’ll feel better if you eat.”

Crowley hated that he was always right.

Even if he picked at his dinner and had Aziraphale tut at him for only eating a few bites, Aziraphale was right.

“Now, if you don’t have a husband to give you feedback, you can be your own critic.”

Crowley shook his head as he laid his basket and tools on the countertop a safe ways away from the camera. He grabbed a handful of thyme, rinsing it and laying it on a clean towel. Aziraphale would decide what to do with it later.

“Remember that the food you make doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to be loved.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. He grabbed basil.

Aziraphale’s videos were always met with overwhelming positivity. The viewers, when not writing about Crowley, wrote about how Aziraphale taught them what their parents hadn’t, how they were living on their own for the first time and were slowly learning how to support themselves, how they had had unhealthy relationships with food for years but Aziraphale was helping them change that. To any other demon, it would be sickening. But Crowley was proud of his angel.

Without Heaven, Aziraphale was still performing his good deeds with the freedom to add his own twist. Heaven would never approve of Aziraphale’s new hobby. They hated food. They hated Earthly pleasures. They wouldn’t be able to see that Aziraphale was a great angel when left to his own devices.

“My dear, are you ready for dinner?”

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley’s waist.

“Is the camera off?”

Crowley hated how his voice sounded. It was quiet. It was meek.

“Of course, my dear,” Aziraphale said. Crowley relaxed. “Dinner?”

“Let me finish this. I’ll only be a minute.”

Aziraphale hummed in agreement and waited exactly three seconds before kissing Crowley’s neck. It wasn’t a sweet peck. It wasn’t a kiss that said: “this is the only place I can kiss you at the moment, but I don’t care because I love every inch of you.”

It was a kiss that Aziraphale knew would make Crowley’s knees go weak. He dropped his basil.

Aziraphale was also just enough of a bad angel to keep things interesting.

                                                            ~

It was the middle of December when the weather turned too cold for Crowley’s well-being.

Having been a snake, he still kept some of the traits. For starters, his yellow eyes were always going to be around. That he didn’t mind (Aziraphale told him multiple times he loved them). What he did mind was that when the cold crept through their cottage and assaulted him when he stepped outside, he grew sluggish and tired and found trouble eating. He really found trouble eating that winter.  

Aziraphale fussed over his cheekbones as they became gaunter. He touched Crowley’s hip bones, which protruded more than they had, and sighed. He caught Crowley when he swayed during a too-long fast and begged him to have a bite of something--just a bite--while he helped him sit.  

But they knew it wasn’t just the cold that had Crowley in such a state. He hadn’t been the sickly thin mess in winters previous.

It was the increasing panic attacks and restless nights and nightmares that angelic miracles couldn’t always stop. It was the awful anxiety that made Crowley’s hands shake and stomach cramp with nausea if he thought about holy water or Hellfire for too long. It was the absence of the relief they had expected South Downs to give them.

The cold just added more intensity to it. It was bad timing.

Aziraphale tucked a hot water bottle against Crowley before pulling the blankets close again. Crowley burrowed into his cocoon of quilts and Aziraphale’s sweater he had stolen weeks ago, curling around the new heat as it worked away aches. He was content where he was on the sofa, pleasantly drowsy and warm for once. He hadn’t moved since early that morning when he declared the spot as his when he stumbled down the stairs, exhausted after another sleepless night.

“Will I disturb you if I cook?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley shook his head. “Go for it, angel.”

“I’ll make your favorite. Maybe you’ll manage to eat in a couple of hours.”

Crowley didn’t bother hiding his smile. Despite his growing anxiety in the past few months, he found himself smiling more because with every bad moment there was Aziraphale being gentle and doting.

Aziraphale kissed him on the forehead and brushed his temple. “Rest for now. Have sweet dreams.”

And Aziraphale left with a little angelic magic beginning to settle over him.

Crowley closed his eyes, curling up as tight as he could. He could hear Aziraphale trying to be quiet in the kitchen, gently setting pots and pans down and arranging whatever else he was miracling into existence.

“This recipe is a little more challenging,” Crowley heard. “But I thought it would be perfect for the season. My dear husband is under the weather, and I expect many of you are as well right now. Or maybe you know someone who is, and you’d like to make them a meal.”

Crowley could imagine the comments pouring in the second Aziraphale would post the video. Humans were so pitying and adoring of others when they were ill. They’d praise Aziraphale for being so thoughtful. They’d hope for Crowley to recover. It would be, if Crowley were to be honest, disgusting.

“It’s a light soup, so it’s wonderful for someone who has a touch of influenza.”

But Aziraphale deserved that praise. It was the praise Crowley felt too exhausted to give. If he wasn’t sleeping (or laying in bed trying desperately to fall asleep) every second he could, he would write an entire book to Aziraphale, telling him how wonderful he was and how little Crowley deserved such a caring, attentive angel. Once spring came, he would start to rebuild his garden. He would make it bigger than the year before--more room for berries and herbs. He’d let Aziraphale have whatever he wanted. And maybe he’d yell at his plants less.

Or maybe not that last one.

They’d never grow without discipline.

“My dear Anthony loves this soup. He first tried it at the Ritz years ago. I remember the first time I tried making it for him…”

And that was why everyone loved Aziraphale’s videos. 10 minutes were dedicated to telling a story about when he ate the meal for the first time--usually with Crowley, usually not within the last 100 years. He kept certain details out. They didn’t want his audience to know that they were immortal beings.

Maybe Crowley would dig up the grass in the front of the cottage and put in flower beds. Flowers weren’t necessarily his thing, but Aziraphale always admired them on walks. He’d oh so gently touch the petals and lean in to smell them. He’d tell Crowley to do the same, and Crowley would find himself doing it just to humor his angel.

Crowley fell asleep thinking of daffodils lining the front door, listening to Aziraphale list ingredients.

He dreamt of guiding Aziraphale’s hands through the dirt and helping him place bulbs in neat lines. The sun beat down on them, and though Crowley couldn’t feel it, he welcomed it. Aziraphale’s smile was bright, and he was proud of the little mounds in the soil.

There was no more shaking hands or uneven breathing. Crowley felt well again. Aziraphale openly touched him as people walked by, and Crowley laughed when they joked about the dirt and grass stains on Aziraphale’s pale suit that he still insisted on wearing.

They moved to the kitchen where fresh vegetables awaited them. Aziraphale took Crowley’s hands this time, helping him cut peppers and scrape out the seeds.

He woke up to Aziraphale leaning over him.

“I’m sorry, my dear, I lost track of time. This has gone cold.”

Aziraphale pulled the water bottle out of Crowley’s grip. It had turned cold, and Crowley could feel cramps returning.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Aziraphale lifted the blankets again to slide the water bottle--now satisfyingly burning as Crowley liked it--into Crowley’s waiting arms.

“I made you tea,” he said. “We still had just enough leaves left from when I made them a month ago.”

Crowley remembered the tea video. Aziraphale had felt adventurous and set out to cut up the herbs Crowley had been growing in their window sill (the only thing he could manage to grow in cold). The leaves turned out fine without any miracle, though Crowley’s plants saw better days after being butchered.

But the tea Aziraphale made from it was ridiculously amazing. It was earthy and rich. Every cup was perfect.

The newest steaming mug was right by Crowley’s head.

“I thought you might like it before we try dinner.”

Crowley sat up. He kept the water bottle close.

“How was filming?”

Aziraphale sat next to him. Crowley took advantage and rested against him. Much better than the water bottle.

“It was splendid. I’m thinking that everyone might be ready to try more complicated dishes. I’ll have to see what they think of this one. I know they’ll do their best, but there is no need to stress them out.”

Crowley had tried his hardest to explain that many of his viewers didn’t attempt every dish Aziraphale made and they didn’t watch them in chronological order. They simply watched because they were fond of him. But Aziraphale never seemed to understand, insisting that surely they must all be interested in cooking.

Crowley took a sip of his tea. The heat traveled down his throat to his stomach where it began easing knots.

“Remind me. Have you already made a video on crepes?”

Aziraphale huffed. “Of course, I have. It was one of the first. But they didn’t compare to what’s made in Paris. I gave a full disclaimer at the start of the video.”

“Oh, that’s right. I had to stop you from mentioning the Reign of Terror.” Crowley closed his eyes. “Mostly because humans frown upon people having happy memories of it.”

“It wasn’t as though I was talking about the revolution itself. Just the memories that coincidentally aligned with it. Dear, do try to stay awake long enough to eat. I’d love for you to have something tonight.”

Crowley hummed. “I’m not sleeping. Keep talking.”

Aziraphale was quiet, admitting his defeat to himself. Crowley would be asleep again within minutes.

“Anyways, I always tell them that the love surrounding the dishes is what makes it all the more special. That’s why it’s best to cook for someone you love…”

Crowley didn’t hear the rest of Aziraphale’s lecture. He returned to the summer garden.

                                                             ~

Spring was much kinder.

Crowley started his garden again.

He whispered a threat to every seed, telling them that they were for Aziraphale and therefore if they were a disappointment, the consequences would be dire. He had promised to stop yelling at the plants while he was outside in plain sight of passing neighbors. While Aziraphale made a list of the crops he’d like that year, he also made a list of conditions. Inside the cottage was fair game for yelling. All “punishments” had to be done in the shed. Crowley negotiated to be allowed to make an example of bad plants in front of the others at the beginning of the season (and since Aziraphale had never actually witnessed the “punishments” and was beginning to severely doubt that any true punishments were taking place, he allowed it).

Kneeling in front of the garden, detailing the many ways he learned to torture in Hell (a blatant lie as any demon who knew how often Crowley avoided seeing souls being tortured would tell you), he felt at peace. He heard Aziraphale step out the back door and smiled. His stomach flipped, but in a good way. He was excited to show Aziraphale the progress he had made and tell him about all the new plants they would have soon. He was excited to see Aziraphale clap his hands together and tell him how proud he was.

“Dear?”

Crowley turned around.

Aziraphale held the camera out. He had never learned how to zoom in and out and manually held the camera closer or further away instead.

“Angel,” Crowley whined, cheeks turning red.

He tried hiding his face, looking back down at the garden.

“Tell us what you’re doing,” Aziraphale said, sitting down in the grass next to Crowley.

“I’m starting the garden,” Crowley mumbled, still not facing the camera but not exactly minding it as much as he had in the past. “This is your bed. For all of, uh, the crops you need.”

“It’s looking wonderful, my dear. Almost as wonderful as you.”

Crowley didn’t want to imagine the blush the camera was picking up.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Aziraphale said, perhaps beginning to doubt his choice of surprising Crowley.

He began to stand. Crowley finally faced him.

“You don’t have to.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Do you really not mind?”

Crowley shook his head. He held his hand out. Aziraphale took it and sat back down.

“What are we growing this year, my love?”

Crowley’s chest tightened--but again, in a good way.

                                                                  ~

Crowley had just woken up. His new favorite part of summer was waking up to a breeze coming through the open windows and Aziraphale in the kitchen.

June had been treating the couple nicely. They began to enjoy walks through the town on sunny days, fingers laced together and nodding at neighbors who smiled at the eccentric couple who were finally debuting themselves. After their first walk, which included a short, polite yet nervous exchange of small talk with a neighbor about the weather, Aziraphale had kissed Crowley’s face a dozen times as he told him how proud he was. He had come a long way, Aziraphale told him.

Even the rainy days--and being in England, there were many--were beautiful for them. Crowley had grown to enjoy the sound of thunder, and Aziraphale was finding himself pleasantly pinned down by a sleeping Crowley on his lap more often.

Crowley made his way downstairs. He could smell whatever Aziraphale was baking, the sensation of warmth overcoming him as it always did.

“I understand it’s a special month for some of you, and I always see the comments thanking Anthony and me for being ourselves.”

Crowley stayed behind the wall of the hallway. He hadn’t realized Aziraphale was filming.

“I believe that we may have a little more history of rebelling than you’re all aware of. I’ve never acknowledged it before because, well, it is a bit difficult to bring up, but we do understand what it’s like to have to walk away from those who are supposed to be accepting of you. We have plenty of experience going against what we’ve been told is God’s plan, but we found ourselves happier doing so. And believe me, She doesn’t mind what humans are together romantically. I really don’t know where that rumor started.”

Crowley shook his head. To humans, Aziraphale sounded like a pious man that was very certain of his beliefs (and maybe a little crazy when he didn’t bother censoring himself as much as he should have).

“Nevertheless, it is hard to give it all up. You do lose a part of your identity and you have to rebuild that. And maybe Anthony knows a bit more about being rejected and falling--falling out with those who are supposed to love you, I mean.”

Crowley rested his head against the wall. It took a special demon to be a fallen angel and be a traitor to Hell.

“He has had an awfully rough time with it all, but he’s overcoming it. I’m very proud of him. He’s found where he truly belongs, and we’re both much happier.”

There was a pause.

“And the joy I feel being with him finally--here, in this little home we’ve made for ourselves--is indescribable. I couldn’t imagine myself anywhere else. I do hope the rest of you are able to find similar happiness.”  

Crowley changed his clothes and fixed his hair with a snap of his fingers.

“Anyways, that’s why I’ve decided that scones would be perfect this morning--”

Aziraphale was cut off by the weight of a demon crashing into him. Crowley spun him around and wrapped his arms around him, pressing their hips together.

“Good morning, angel.”

“Good morning, dear.” Aziraphale looked taken aback. “The camera is on--”

“Screw the camera.”

He pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s, taking a long moment to savor it. Every anxiety-inducing thought of the wrong person watching them was momentarily gone. He didn’t care about the people on the other side of the screen. He only thought about holding Aziraphale right there.

Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s face and pulled away.

“I love you very dearly,” he said.

“I think I love you even more.”

Crowley kissed him again.

Aziraphale’s hands moved to Crowley’s shoulders, then his waist, then lower.

“Alright, camera has to go,” Crowley said, breathless.

A wave of his hand and Aziraphale turned off the camera and the oven.  

Truly an awful angel.

(These are the people who asked to be tagged/who I think wanted to be tagged

@frenchibi @thegryffindorbookworm @odysseyinink @misstylersmith @fairkid-forever @a-person-in-the-rain )

[alanna-artroid]

Cookies I Have From Cookie Run So Far! (And My Thoughts On Them)

Alright, I’ve gotten pretty far in Cookie Run: Oven Break, and I felt the need to share my thoughts on all the adorable cookies I’ve unlocked so far. So far, I have 50/100, so I’d say I’m making good progress. On to the list!

GingerBrave: The bravest boy. If this was a show, he’d clearly be the main character. I recently got him a little suit, so now he’s a gentleman! 

GingerBright: Sweet little lady. She looks like she’d be nice to get a coffee with or help you with homework. I definitely ship her with Brave, no doubt about it.

Strawberry Cookie: Precious baby! She’s super shy and I am compelled to protect her at all costs. Her pet is also a Tamagotchi, so she must be a gamer! Sweet!

Skater Cookie: HE WAS A SK8TER BOI! SHE SAID SEE YA LATER BOI! 

Zombie Cookie: This is one of the fastest zombies I’ve ever seen. They seem like a nice guy overall though.

Princess Cookie: Heck yes, a mischievous princess! Those are the best! I love her dress and hair bows. I bet she just pretends to get kidnapped for the lols.

Pilot Cookie: Is it just me, or is this little old man smaller than most of the other cookies? Whatever, he’s got a cute mustache and he’s adorable. Go and fly!

Vampire Cookie: As a vampire nerd, I immediately adored this guy. I will gladly give him grape juice and chill with him under the light of the moon. 

Gumball Cookie: Is this was Splatoon is like? This boi has a lot of chaotic energy and I like him.

Pistachio Cookie: I love this warrior woman so dang much. Look at that minty green hair! Her power is also SUPER helpful. She a speedy knight!

Pancake Cookie: HE’S A FLYING SQUIRREL! HE’S TOO CUTE I CAN’T EVEN! LET ME HUG THIS TINY CHILD!!!

Peppermint Cookie: Sweet baby. Good baby. My mom would probably adore this baby. (She loves mint and she’s not even a big sweets person.)

Muscle Cookie: As a lesbian, I’m not into big abs and muscles, but he’d probably be a good gym partner. Don’t mess with him is all I can say.

Cherry Cookie: Little Red Riding Hood got some bombs! I hope she and Gumball can go cause chaos on the weekends.

Hero Cookie: Precious nerdy boi with science! I saw his Island of Memories intro and his bond with Jellyco Cube is just the sweetest thing! Follow your superhero dreams, my baby!

Fairy Cookie: I didn’t know Tinkerbell was in this game! Also, I got her a bee costume and that looks super cute on her. Love her hair bun.

Werewolf Cookie: ULTIMATE FLOOF! Doggo here has a lot of angst and I worry for him. Maybe Vampire Cookie can teach him to chill? That’d be nice.

Rockstar Cookie: Oh, the songs I could sing right here. High tier rocker boy. Loving that flowing white hair. Rock on, buddy!

Soda Cookie: Go-to starter for my Breakout runs. I love him very much, he’s super cute! Let me go to the beach with this righteous dude! 

Dark Enchantress Cookie: Oooooh, she is GORGEOUS!!! I love her design~! I’ll be sure to invite her to any fancy balls I might have, as to avoid any Maleficent scenarios with this savage woman.

Moon Rabbit Cookie: My spirit animal! I love how she constantly munches while she runs. This girl is such a mood for me. Cute little bunny ears~!

Space Doughnut: Awww, look at this alien dork! Their design is very cute, and I love how their expression of >:3.

Macaron Cookie: Such a sweetie pie! Why must they all be so adorable?! She’s a little drummer girl! That is too precious! Look at her dress and hat!!!

Pink Choco Cookie: She reminds me of a show I watched when I was younger. It was about a space girl, does anyone remember it? This girl will save the day, I can tell! 

Avocado Cookie: Strong girl on the loose! My pun-loving friends would adore this cookie. And she’s a blacksmith, which is always cool.

Whipped Cream Cookie: Elegant ballerino!! He’s definitely one of my favorites! Such a beautiful boi~! I love his design so much, and he’s very useful. <3 <3 <3

Blackberry Cookie: Yeeees! Gothic girl for the win! She is SO dang pretty! I am WEAK for gothic lolitas, and she even has ghost buddies! I bet she’ll love spooky games like Luigi’s Mansion and Hollow Knight.

Lemon Cookie: Edgy boi is trying way too hard to be Shadow the Hedgehog. I mean, can you SMILE for once dude? It’ll take me a while to bond with this guy.

Salt Cookie: He strikes me as a wise old man you’d find meditating at the top of a mountain, or in his case on a boat in the ocean. I bet he has lots of knowledge to share.

Squid Ink Cookie: AWWWWW, SWEET BABY SQUID!!! Guys, I think they might be my favorite! They’re so squishy and mighty, and they need all my love and huggles!!! Don’t be sad baby, I’ll be your friend! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Lime Cookie: Beach girl! She’s like Lemon Cookie, but slightly nicer! I really like her hair and beach ball. Very cool girl.

Ninja Cookie: FINALLY! SOMEONE WITH MORE THAN TWO JUMPS!!! I went kind of crazy with his jumping powers at first. He’s super cool. Not sure why his pet is a ghost though.

Pomegranate Cookie: Oooh, I love Asian fashion~! Look how fancy and elegant she is! Her story concerns me, and I’m worried about her.

Angel Cookie: Good cookie, sweet cookie. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. It looks like they trust the devil boy, which is beyond kind of them. I love it when angels get along with demons. Defy angle roles!!!

Devil Cookie: Speaking of, they’re a cute little bean too! I love the naughty demon trope, and this cutie is so mischievous! Call Angel your “rival” all you want, I’m still shipping you dorks.

Roll Cake Cookie: Imagine, if you will, the world’s biggest game of Whack-A-Mole! With that hammer, this boy would win without question.

Popcorn Cookie: I’d be happy to go with this girl to the movie theater! Also, I love how she had popcorn for hair buns. She seems like she’d be up for a fun time!

Carrot Cookie: Oh my lordy, her ponytails are carrots. The artists for this game are so clever. Strong but tiny farmer, I approve.

Ion Cookie Robot: Yes! A robot! I love robots, and this cookie is no exception! Definitely one of my favorites, up there with Whipped Cream Cookie. They’re super powerful too, and REALLY useful in Breakout and Trophy runs.

Dino-Sour Cookie: Gee Dino-Sour, how come Devsisters let you have two pets? Very cool punk boy. I can see him going to Rockstar Cookie’s concert.

Plum Cookie: Aren’t plums purple though? This boy is one tough cookie! Look at his karate moves! Honestly, I thought he was a girl at first. Why must these boys be so pretty?!

Yogurt Cream Cookie: PRINCE ALI! FABULOUS HE! ALI ABABWUA~!

Alchemist Cookie: Look, it’s Twilight Sparkle! Apparently, Vampire boy is her brother? I really like her hair braids(?), I just wish she’d loosen up a bit. She seems like a nice girl.

Roguefort Cookie: Aaaah yeah, elegant thief! This cookie is the coolest! I love this aesthetic so much~! Blue cheese has never been so fancy. Just look at this charmer, stealing hearts!

Pitaya Dragon Cookie: OOOOOhohoho! THIS is what I’m TALKING about! Look at this beast, they’re GLORIOUS! They’ve probably killed a bunch of people, but They’re crazy powerful and I adore them.

Knight Cookie: This guy is SO much fun to play as! He just won’t stop, he’s too fast!!! I couldn’t stop laughing once I found out just how fast this knight could go! Somehow he controls better than Pistachio? I don’t know, I love him!

Birthday Cake Cookie: TOO PRECIOUS FOR WORDS! SHE’S SO DANG CUTE!!! Also, her “Bonus Time” changes to “Happy B Day” and I... I just can’t! She’s the sweetest thing!!! <3 <3 <3

Cocoa Cookie: Awww, look at this sweet baby! I wanna snuggle her! Her design looks so warm and comfy. I have plenty of hot chocolate to give her. <3

Raspberry Mousse Cookie: Ah yes, the pretty boy that got me into this game in the first place. Along with Squid Ink, he’s probably my favorite. There’s a reason he has the highest affection so far with me. I just adore his design, and he’s very powerful! I will ALWAYS have him ready for Breakout and Trophy Runs. Well worth all the hype. <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Rose Cookie: Finally, we have this lovely lady. Everyone is shipping her with Raspberry, and rightfully so. She is a high-quality woman that makes gay men straight and straight girls lesbian. Look at that outfit! And those dance moves!

Aaaand that’s everybody for now! I’ll update this once I get more Cookies. So far, I like most of them a lot. Anybody got some favorites they’d like to share? I’m still new to this game, but I’m happy to hear what others have to say!

UPDATE 1: 

I went back and fixed all the gender mistakes I made. (I’m so sorry! D:) Also, I got a few more cookies! So here we go!

Walnut Cookie: Precious detective baby! The newest update is only making her cuter! Probably the shortest of the bunch, and I adore her design~! <3

Cinnamon Cookie: Super useful power so far, and they have a really cool cape! Those cards are very handy! (I promise I’ll pay attention to the genders of these cookies from now on! I don’t want to misgender anyone again!)

Sparkling Cookie: Oooh, a sparkling cider cookie! That’s honestly the only boozy thing I enjoy drinking. He is super classy and seems like the life of the party. He strikes me as a Great Gatsby kind of host.

Moonlight Cookie: OOOOOOOH~! LOOK at this GODDESS! I love the nighttime/dreamy aesthetic. This girl has Luna’s hair and a wizard’s outfit, high tier cookie!

White Choco Cookie: This game sure likes it’s knights, huh? This girl is a fine lady and apparently, she attracts all the lesbians. Can’t say I blame those girls, I do love that hairstyle. 

Spinach Cookie: Aaand the newest cookie to hit the scene, this girl! I have never met someone so dedicated to vegetables, so I have to applaud that. She’s a super sweet girl, and I hope we find who stole her precious vegetables!!!

UPDATE 2:

More Cookies! It’s been a while since I’ve updated this, so I have quite a bit to share. On to the new ones!

Mustard Cookie: Look at this punk girl! Street artist on the loose in the streets! I always admire people and characters in this style, so I’m supporting this rebel all the way!

Herb Cookie: Now THIS guy is everywhere! It seems the fandom really likes him, and I can see why. He seems like a very nice boy, with a sweet plant baby. I like the leaf hair, very cool.

Sea Fairy Cookie: I love how everything on her flows. Her hair, her dress, she’s so beautiful~! I will say though, Legendaries are SO DANG HARD to level up and get affection with! WHY?!

Cream Puff Cookie: Awwww, look at this precious baby girl~! Look at her soft hair and little dress! I almost feel bad running with the super cute ones, I don’t want them to get hurt! 

Matcha Cookie: Oooooh, all these ancient-looking cookies have the coolest designs! She’s probably insane, darkness will do that to ya, but she seems harmless so I like her!

Ice Candy Cookie: This chick could crush me like a grape and I don’t know how to feel about that. Hopefully, she’s only savage on the ice rink. I do NOT want to mess with this girl.

Cherry Blossom Cookie: Awww, look how pretty she is~! Cherry blossoms are always so lovely, and this girl embodies that. She has a PARASOL for crying out loud, I CAN’T EVEN!!

Grapefruit Cookie: This game sure likes sports, huh? She seems really cool, I love her colors! Do you think she’d play Skate 3? Hopefully, she’d get a laugh out of that game.

Pirate Cookie: This guy has been a long time coming. I’ve been curious about him since the Breakout episode. He’s pretty neat, I appreciate how he naturally comes with an extra revive.

Kumiho Cookie: Cool! A Kitsune! I love the spin on the concept of cookies. Let this marshmallow fox live out her reverse-furry dream! I’m loving her design too, look at that hair! 

Marshmallow Cookie: Oh cute! Another marching band cookie! According to her story, she and Macaron had a falling out. I hope they can reconcile and be friends again. :(

Dark Choco Cookie: WE’VE REACHED MAXIMUM EDGE! WITH OREO SHOULDER PADS!!! Interesting how he’s still trying to be a hero, which is a nice spin on the “I have evil powers so now I’m evil” trope. Here’s hoping he stays strong.

Fire Spirit Cookie: Ah yes, the classic lord of fire. A staple for any fantasy story that includes the elements. Again, it’s impossible to get the affection for these guys.

Mala Sauce Cookie: Yay! I got Pitaya’s girlfriend! I always love it when there’s a tribe/society of warriors and the WOMAN is the strongest one there. Heck yes! This warrior lady is a badass!

Firecracker Cookie: I didn’t know I was invited to a rave party! Love the neon colors on this cookie, that’s something this game really excels at.

UPDATE 3:

I’ve reached 90 cookies! I’m on the homestretch!!!

Cheesecake Cookie: OH MY LORDY LOOK HOW FANCY SHE IS! I adore her already! Fancy ladies are the best ladies!

Kiwi Cookie: This game REALLY likes sports. He looks cool, can’t complain.

Yoga Cookie: Awww, a pretzel is trying to be loose! I’ve done yoga a few times, and it is very good for your body. Nice colors, simple design, nice.

Dr. Wasabi Cookie: I’d reference some mad scientist, but I know a lot of them so we’d be here for a while. Her combi generator has been very helpful.

Tiger Lily Cookie: IT’S THE EYE OF THE TIGER IT’S THE THRILL OF THE NIGHT, RISING UP TO THE CHALLENGE OF OUR RIVALS!

Chili Pepper Cookie: Uh oh, this one’s a troublemaker! I really like her hair, it’s very bright. Secure your pockets around this chick, that’s for sure.

Millennial Tree Cookie: These cookies are too pretty, I keep thinking they’re girls! This guy is so beautiful~ truly a being of nature!

DJ Cookie: Ooooh, I love her design~. Rainbow colors will win me over every time. And look! She’s wearing a Bi Pride shirt! This girl is awesome! I like how her special power is basically tiny Guitar Hero.

Snow Sugar Cookie: Soft baby, sweet baby. Looks very cuddly. Their level was very helpful during Sandwich Cookie’s event in getting frozen jellies. Those blue bears aren’t easy to come by!

Fig Cookie: CENTAUR! I wasn’t expecting one of those here! She’s such a sweetie pie~. Since everything and anything is allowed in this game, can we get mermaids or harpies next?

Cotton Candy Cookie: PRECIOUS BABY! She’s so gosh darn cute, I can’t take it! I personally can relate to falling in love with things so easily. And there are official plushies of her now! ONE DAY I WILL BRING HER HOME!

Purple Yam Cookie: Bro needs a chill pill. Not ONCE have I seen this guy smile yet. And I thought Lemon needed to lighten up. Milk seems to care about him though, so I guess he can’t be that bad.

Milk Cookie: The softest of warriors! Look how cute he is~! I adore him! Plus he really shines in the stories. I can only assume Yam is his boyfriend or something. Am I wrong about that?

Cyborg Cookie: Hey! I saw the storybook for this one! I’m surprised I haven’t unlocked this “Aloe Cookie” yet. Are they still in this game? I can’t find them on the chart. Anyway, Cyborg is cool. Very nice design.

Mango Cookie: Newest baby! I love him, and would love to learn all about the islands from him! I’m gonna say it, I already ship him with Ananas Cookie, no questions asked.