#i just think. the way they both refused to die for so long

[neoameba]

"You're not right! I'm right! And I'm Uzumaki Naru-" "Shut up, dummy."

Kids!Uzumaki Naruto w/a Male!reader

Summary: "These kids... [Name] wasn't like that, his friendship with Naruto changed him. Or maybe he was always a bit mischievous and Naruto just let it out. Anyway, it's good to see them together again... I think." - Kakashi Hatake

It's just that they understand each other very well. It's not that Naruto doesn't have friends, he has a lot. But none of them understand him as well as [Name]. The boy was always with him, even when he discovered that Naruto had the nine tails beast inside him. But beyond that, they shared the same single neuron that they both had. They had the same sense of humor and made the same jokes, they even looked like the same person.

It was part of everyday life to see [Name] and Naruto Uzumaki around Konoha, whether on the rooftops playing and eating, or on the streets, playing pranks on people and sometimes, making a mess of everything around. No one was surprised by this anymore, but that doesn't mean people don't run away when they see this duo.

So Naruto and [Name]'s happiness was noticeable when they found out that they were on the same team. Well, a team should only have 3 kids, but honestly, it's better to have two chaotic kids in the same place than one on each team.

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But, it wasn't always like this. Naruto was always a brat, but [Name] was different. He was so quiet and shy. He didn't get bullied like Naruto, but he feared it with all his heart. He didn't make any noise and for a long time people thought he was mute. He was afraid of being judged, of being excluded and so he ended up excluding himself first.

Maybe that's why he got along so well with Naruto. The two were complete opposites at first, and Naruto was like a sun to [Name's] moon. He made the shy boy's personality shine. [Name] knows that this is the main reason why he loves Naruto, his personality is everything to him and his way is honestly amazing.

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[Name]'s parents, Kakashi, Sakura, Iruka, and many other people don't know if Naruto and [Name]'s friendship is that good. Well, they have to put up with the two's pranks all the time. And Iruka, Kakashi, and [Name]'s parents can't stand the boys talking about themselves all the time anymore.

"Iruka sensei, today [Name] and I climbed onto the fourth Hokage's head and-" "Naruto, you haven't even touched your ramen... It's already cold."- Iruka, who doesn't even care about the things Naruto and [Name] do anymore, he just wants Naruto to eat soon because he can't stand hearing the boy's stomach growl while he ignores his hunger to talk about his best friend.

...

So just imagine everyone's surprise when...

...

"[Name] San...? Why aren't you talking to Naruto?" Sakura looked genuinely worried. Naruto was standing aloof and clearly refusing to talk to [Name], while the boy looked completely sullen. Even Sasuke noticed this and for the first time in a long time he spoke to Naruto without telling him to stop yelling. Well, he didn't because Naruto simply wasn't yelling, he was just serious and didn't say much. "Hmph, I won't talk about him, not even to him. I don't want to hear anything about him."

Kakashi was close to the two kids, reading a weird book while taking care of them on his day off. Despite being unconcerned, even he looked at Sakura with wide eyes, which were returned by the girl. Looking at Sasuke, he also seemed surprised as he talked to Naruto. Sakura couldn't tell what was going on here, but it was definitely about Naruto and [Name]'s friendship.

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The three reunited later. They loved the silence and calm that the fight between Naruto and [Name] had given, but it was much better to see the two boys being friends. Sakura was the first to speak in the circle. "Kakashi sensei, Sasuke kun... I know we were finally at peace now that Naruto and [Name] stopped talking, but they need to be together again." Kakashi agreed, and soon began to think about what could happen between the two boys so that they would no longer talk. The trio was silent for a few seconds, but Sasuke was willing to speak his mind. "I don't think it's anything serious." The pink-haired girl and the team's sensei immediately raised an eyebrow. "... It's like you don't know the two of them. They agree on everything, but when they disagree on something, they always end up arguing."

Kakashi seemed to think again, and came to a slightly different conclusion. "I believe the discussion was more serious this time. They've never gone so long without talking to each other." The trio comes to a conclusion: They fought over something they disagreed on, and now they don't want to talk anymore.

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Meanwhile, the two brats returned home, and unfortunately for both of them... They lived in neighboring houses. The whole time, they didn't look at each other and had their arms crossed, trying to avoid simply looking at each other. "You know it's wrong. You live it, so you know better than I do that it's not fair." He needed to speak, he had to win this argument and convince Naruto. "You don't know anything about my life, I like my house and the way it is!"

[Name] wouldn't take that for an answer. Yes, the reason for the argument was more than a bad board game that [Name] liked and wanted to play all the time. The boy saw Naruto's situation, and knew that he deserved something much better than what he was living. But Naruto didn't see it negatively. He always had the bare minimum (and sometimes not even that), so for him, the bare minimum was enough.

They enter their respective houses, still fighting. Naruto throws himself on his bed and stays silent, while [Name] runs to his room and locks himself there, without greeting anyone in his house. The situation was serious.

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It was a new day. Kakashi, Sasuke, and Sakura spent the entire night coming up with a plan to bring [Name] and Naruto together again. When Sakura had to leave because of her parents, Kakashi and Sasuke began to put the plan into action. It was simple, because the two boys didn't have enough brains to realize it was a trap. It was simple: lock the two boys in the same room. They wouldn't make enough effort to get out of there just so they wouldn't talk, Kakashi was sure.

The new day arrives, Sasuke went to call Naruto for Kakashi's 'new' training, while Sakura went to take [Name] to show her new move that she learned from Kakashi. The two fell, and when they arrived at the place (which was something like a small house with a lot of junk behind Kakashi's house), were locked together. Naruto and [Name] only heard the door lock close as they turned to face each other. They ran to open the door, but only heard a "I'll only open it when you're friends again."

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For a long time, they remained silent. Deep down, they knew that they wanted to resolve things, because they had enough strength and power to break down that door or the fragile roof of that little house. But they didn't do that. Kakashi, Sakura and Sasuke couldn't hear anything coming from the room, and Sakura even considered calling a Hyuuga to use the byakugan and see what was going on in there. Time passed slowly for them.

Meanwhile, Naruto and [Name] finally talked. "...Naruto?" "What is it?!" The boy sighed, and seemed to want to give up on the conversation for a few seconds, but soon continued. "Sorry."

Naruto looked at him for the first time, he seemed surprised. It was the first time [Name] had apologized for something. Normally neither of them did, and they just went back to being friends normally. "You're right, I shouldn't interfere in your life. It's just that I can't find it normal that you have to eat only noodles and milk that are almost always expired. That's not fair, you shouldn't live like this." And for a few seconds, Naruto even looked like he wanted to cry. He missed his best friend. He wastes no time in throwing himself at [Name], nearly making him fall. "... I'm sorry too, okay? You only want the best for me and I treated you with so much contempt..." There, it didn't even sound like Naruto speaking. That came from his soul.

They stay in each other's arms for a while. They were tired of so much arguing and being apart, this distance wasn't good for them. It's not like Naruto will understand what [Name] is thinking right away, and it will take him a while to get used to the idea that he needs to cry out for a better life. He just needs his friend for that. His best friend.

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The next day, the two were already doing crazy things around the village, running around Konoha and messing everything up. Kakashi didn't even listen to people's complaints, because in a way, everyone was happy that the two were back together. He remembers when he opened that door because his curiosity piqued him, and saw the two hugging. Of course, they let go of the hug immediately and Naruto almost fell to the floor in embarrassment. At least it's a happy memory for the two of them, without any fighting. Sakura looked irritated with the two, as usual. But Kakashi knew the girl, and knew that she was very happy with the two of them too. Sasuke seemed neutral, but if you have good eyes, you will see a smile.

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:

It was refreshing to see these kids happy again, and together. Naruto and [Name] are complementary pieces, they can't live without each other.

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:

Author's notes: It can be read as ftm! Reader, since there are obviously no genitalia being specified. It could be interpreted as a romance between the two, but I didn't want to make it explicit to be more open to interpretation. They would simply give their lives for each other, they are best friends because they complete each other.

[enslaughts]

thinking about tommy and joel mirrors. how they're both survivors to the bone, but while joel is gritted bite and blood and skin of his teeth scrabble to keep his loved ones breathing as long as he does, tommy is water and dandelions through cement and shape - shifting into whatever shape he needs to keep going. how tommy takes on joel's shape the moment he's gone, going gray and angry after watching his family die in front of him, an understanding like the first dawn after a storm. he gets gray and angry and bitter, something tommy never was. it was a core strain of he and joel's differences, this inability to let go of things like redemption and healing and hope in the face of an indifferent world. if joel lost that when sarah was killed in his arms, tommy loses his with joel, because he was right there. he was there. not maria, not ellie, joel wasn't even toughing it alone, at the beginning of the end. just tommy. useless, unconscious tommy, and joel's would - be killers, and his would - be daughter.

and finally tommy finds it, followed in his brother's footsteps. to honor him, in its own, terrible way. or just to grieve. he finally finds the one thing he can't heal from. and ellie turns those eyes on him and all he can see is sarah, dead, both of them, dead, and ellie too if he doesn't do this for her, for joel, for himself. if it were you or me, joel would be halfway to seattle already. ellie asks this of him when he still has it in him to say no, and almost a year later, he'll do the same to her. because he's alive. he's alive because of joel, even if he thinks it wasn't worth it, and so is ellie. they're in it together, until tommy isn't, can't, and it's the lowest point of his life ; to come to ellie with it. limping and half - blind, he'd rather do it himself, but he can't, and he's so ashamed. that after everything joel ever did for him, he can't do this for joel. after being one of the very last reasons joel did the things tommy resented him for, for him, to keep them both alive. after years of bearing that, and then setting it down. letting it go, in favor of worrying it's because tommy split that joel will finally reach the end of his luck. alone, from infected, a stray bullet, eating his own. but he finds a reason to keep going again and it's not tommy this time, it's this girl. and only then does he die, and tommy has to ask her to avenge him.

tommy doesn't know if joel would do that for him. a part of him imagines, even after waking to his broken, mortal body, that joel would always be able to do it himself. that if it were tommy dead and joel alive, he wouldn't get himself shot in the leg and then in the head, confined to the limits of his own body. that it wouldn't matter if he did ; he'd somehow drag himself to the ends of the earth for the people he cares about. but in his mind, tommy's his brother's keeper, try as he did to let it go, now more than ever that he's lost him. too little, too late. but he's old, and joel was a part of him. and he sees this life that ellie's built despite all of it, this little slice of heaven despite the hell she's been through, alive even though joel is dead, life going on, growing through the cement, what joel killed and died for ellie to have, and tommy doesn't have it anymore. the script has flipped, somehow, and tommy can't do anything about it with a body that's already reaped what this path he can't even walk to the end has sowed. in trying to avenge joel, he's destroying the very thing he died for : ellie's peace. because tommy has none. because it's his fault that he has to even ask her, that he can't do it himself, that joel is dead. and he can't live with it, he just can't, even if it means asking this of his daughter. because tommy can't die either. not after everything joel sacrificed to keep him alive. there's no way out for tommy, and right on cue, the exception, of course, is ellie. ellie, who already has the weight of the world on her shoulders. ellie, who tommy asks to bear the weight of his too, brother like brother, right on cue. one last ode to joel.

love is just so heavy. it didn't used to be.

[good-beanswrites]

If it's okay with you, could you write a drabble about the hypothetical aftermath of Amane getting attacked by Kotoko?

Welp thank you pal for making me absolutely insane with this request 👍 I ran through a few hypotheticals and realized I had to shift some things around since there were so many absolutely tragic outcomes. I worked something out but damn if it didn’t make me emotional to think about how uniquely rough Amane has it. Even making sure she's in a good place at the end, this got pretty serious, so warnings for child abuse and cult references. 

(So in canon, Kotoko goes in order and attacks Fuuta, but Kazui steps in. Then she attacks Mahiru while he’s distracted with his injuries. She’s about to attack Amane, but Mikoto gets in the way (my hc that he did it on purpose survives!). By the time they reach a draw, Kazui is back, and the two of them can prevent Kotoko from any further action against Amane. Sticking to this apparent system of three attacks and one rescue, I’m just shuffling around the injuries for this story. Fuuta’s attack went unnoticed, and he’s in the same state as canon Mahiru. Mikoto steps in before Kotoko can fight Mahiru, so Mappi’s the one who get out physically unscathed. While Mikoto checks on Mahiru, recovers himself, or discovers Fuuta, Kotoko is able to attack Amane next. Kazui comes to help, but not before she leaves Amane looking like canon Fuuta.)

Mahiru could practically feel her heart shatter into a million pieces when Amane finally cried in front of her. She hadn’t shed a single tear yesterday – it was the shock, Shidou said. Mahiru was skeptical. After all, she had been shocked, too, and cried plenty.

Amane woke as she came in with breakfast. She took a moment to survey herself, bandages peeking out from beneath her pajamas and an eyepatch securely over her right eye. As calmly as one might say “good morning,” she started to cry. Mahiru might have missed it, if Amane hadn’t wiped at her good eye with her sleeve.

“Oh, sweetheart…!” Mahiru rushed over to her. “It’s okay, I’m here.” She wanted nothing more than to wrap the girl in a secure embrace, but she remembered the mass of bandages that were around her chest. Shidou had mentioned broken ribs and bruises. It took everything in her not to cry along with Amane, at the thought.

“I can get you another ice pack, if you need. Or more medicine.” Her mind spun with ways to help with pain. Many of the first aid supplies had been used to keep Fuuta from the brink of death, but surely there were extras to spare for Amane. 

The girl just shook her head. 

She muttered, “I can’t… I…I’m going to be punished, I’m going to be punished…”

“No! You’re safe now.” Mahiru placed her hands gently on Amane’s arms. “Kotoko’s not coming back. We’re all watching over you. You’re safe. She’s not going to hurt you anymore.” 

“That’s not…” Amane pulled away. Her voice stayed level, despite hiccups interrupting her. A hand reached up to her eyepatch. “It’s this. It’s all of this. It’s sinful. I took it off last night, but he must have…” She started unwrapping it. “They’re going to punish me...” 

With a careful motion, Mahiru held it in place and took Amane’s hands into her own. She’d been picking up on the signs ever since they arrived here together, and a final wave of understanding washed over her. 

“I can’t let you do that.”

Amane’s expression twisted, though words came out far more frantic than fiery. “Let me go.” 

Mahiru didn’t. “I’m sorry. Amane, you need this treatment.”

“That is not your decision to make. That is not any human’s decision to make.”

Mahiru pressed her lips together. “I know. But I can’t watch as you… I can’t sit by again while someone…” She was careful not to apply any pressure, but she could no longer fight the urge to gather Amane up in her arms. “You don’t need to be afraid of those people, anymore.”

“I’m not afraid.” Amane hiccuped. “They love me, and I love them. I need to be good for them.”

“I love you, and I don’t want to see you in pain.”

“You just pity me because I’m young.”

“Why does your age matter? You are a lovely young woman – you are my friend – and I can’t bear to see you in pain.”

The two sat in silence for a moment. Mahiru doubted she would take that as an answer; Amane had refused to call any of the others her friend. At least she didn’t argue. In fact, it seemed she was leaning into the embrace a bit more. She sighed a shaky breath into Mahiru’s uniform.

“Listen, Amane. Can you do me a favor? I’m trying to be a good girl, too. To make up for something awful, I need to make sure you’re alright. Can you help me? Can we be good together?”

A long pause followed. Amane’s voice spoke up, ever so gently.

“I suppose I can consider it.” She added quickly, “for the sake of your redemption. Of course.”

“Of course.”

[thebibliosphere]

Whenever I talk about the medical neglect and ableism I've encountered as a victim of the healthcare system, there's always some cockwaffle who feels entitled to come into my inbox and make the argument of "not all doctors" while talking about how "people like them" (because it's always someone in a field of medicine who does this) are doing their best and it's really hard because so many people fake being ill to get on welfare (Yikes), but like, yeah, obviously #not all doctors, because if all doctors were negligent, bullying scum bags, I'd be dead.

But here's the thing: while I truly believe that the majority of doctors are doing their best in a system stacked against them and their patients, their presence does not negate the mass harm caused by the bad ones. And there are far more bad ones than you realize.

Fuck, John Oliver literally did a segment on this last week:

Yes, the truly bad, malicious doctors are in the minority. Most are just horrifically burned out and fighting a losing battle against a system, killing both them and their patients through a lack of funding and resources and profound overwork.

But the malicious ones do exist, and they will go out of their way to harm patients who don't kowtow to them.

I almost lost my life because when I was in my early twenties, I told a doctor I didn't think she was listening to me, and I disagreed with her assessment of my mental health (she was not a mental health doctor, and I was there for heart palpitations and chronic pain). She retaliated by putting "non-compliant" in my file.

There was also a fun little "doesn't show respect" note too that lives rent-free in my head because I know I wasn't rude. I was polite. I just didn't agree with her, and my refusal to accept her off-handed comment that "you probably have bipolar or BPD" (again, I was there for heart palpitations and chronic pain) meant I was "refusing care."

I wasn't. I just refused to be slapped with a mood/personality disorder when I was there because I kept fucking fainting when I stood up.

(Spoiler alert: it was dysautonomia)

That "non-compliant" marker followed me around for years. It followed me across an ocean and effectively ensured that any doctor I saw was going to treat me like absolute dogshit because no one wants to help Difficult Patients. It wasn't until I was so undeniably ill, literally on the brink of death, that anyone helped me.

I'm alive because of a good doctor. And all the good ones that came after him because of him.

So, I know they exist. You don't have to tell me that.

But I really fucking need you to acknowledge the bad ones and that you're part of a system with a long, long history of abusing minorities and vulnerable people. I need you to acknowledge that because it's the only way we're going to survive this godforsaken nightmare and make things better.

So yeah, #notalldoctors, but if you feel the need to say that because someone talking about being literally left to die by the medical system hurts your feelings, I'm going to have to ask you to take a step back and ask yourself if you're going into medicine for the right reasons.

Namely: do you want to help people, even the "difficult" ones?

Even the ones who might disagree with you?

Even if they're on welfare?

Even if they'll never get "better" in a way that means "cured"?

Just a thought. But hey, what do I know. I'm just someone who experienced hemolytic anemia because doctors kept telling me I was anxious and needed to exercise more 🤷‍♀️.

[hxney-lemcn]

Passionate Hearts — Overblots x gn! reader

summery: what making out with the overblots is like.

tw: steamy-ish, this is as steamy as I'll ever get (not much at all lmao)

a/n: idk where this came from. Idek how good this is. I don't even like writing steamy stuff so this kinda reads more artistic somehow?? Idk

wc: 1.3k (~ 185 per character)

Master List

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

How uncouth of him. He can’t seem to stop you as you continue to enchant him with your lovely kisses. Riddle is nothing but a lovesick fool when it comes to you, and it becomes apparent as your kiss becomes more fervent. He’s a blushing mess as you seem to be unable to pull away. His heart is a stuttering mess, and he never wants you to stop. No matter how passionate your kisses become, it's still gentle. The way he caresses your face is soft, his lips caressing yours so lovely that you feel weak in the knees. And when you pull away, finally getting your fill of his love, you both are a bit of a mess. Hair slightly disheveled, clothes a bit crooked, lips a bit puffy. You couldn’t complain though, it wasn’t every day that you saw the Heartslabyul housewarden so unkempt. Riddle also didn’t seem to mind so much, as long as you only do such actions behind closed doors. He doesn’t think he could handle the embarrassment if Ace or Deuce caught you both in such an intimate act.

❥ Leona Kingscholar

Unlike Riddle, Leona is ruthless when it comes to your more passionate moments. Fervent kisses turn wild with lips being bit and prodding tongues. It feels like you’re being devoured every time and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You had never seen him so passionate about something until he refused to let your lips part. He loved the way you felt, your soft lips puffy with abuse, hair tangled between his fingers. Leona was addicted to your taste and he isn’t shy about it. Sure, he is a bit lazy, beckoning you to come closer to him, but he’ll leave you breathless and wanting more by the end. It isn’t fair how unaffected he seems after he’s done, pulling you closer for a nap (he needed to re-energize after all that labor). His silky hair was barely rustled, his clothes as messy as they normally were. The only evidence of your actions was his slightly puffy lips. Don’t worry though, people know he’s yours with the way he’ll kiss you anywhere anytime. Leona isn’t afraid to put some runts in their place.

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

Azul has a love-hate relationship with the idea of kissing you. On one hand, he can’t live without your lips slotted on his, on the other…he hates how vulnerable he feels. Though that feeling dissipates quickly when he’s suddenly surrounded with you. Your touch, your smell, you love. He’s a greedy man and he’ll take any attention from you he can get. His kisses turn desperate quickly, like he’d die if you were to pull away. Azul is a bit more of a messy kisser than he’d like to admit. His desperation for your love overpowers any of his other thoughts and he finds himself scrambling for purchase, holding onto you for dear life. Azul looks at you with so much love when you pull away you feel like your heart is about to explode. As much as he’d like to continue, he forlornly concludes that you both can’t stay like this forever. Perhaps another time, you’re always welcome in his VIP room at the lounge after all…just make sure Jade and Floyd don’t notice your disheveled appearance as you exit. 

❥ Jamil Viper

It wasn’t often that Jamil indulged in such acts. Let himself be so vulnerable. But as you continued to leave sweet short kisses, he found his resolve crumbling. It scared him that you were able to make him give in so easily, but he trusted you, something that not many people had. His kisses feel a bit controlling, his hand pressed against the back of your neck keeping you in place. Jamil’s kisses are slow and deliberate. Every action has its purpose, and he loves to take his time and savor you. You find yourself hypnotized without his signature spell. Despite the deeply intimate act, he’s still tender with you. Jamil isn’t touchy with you often, so he’ll make sure you know how much he loves you. He hates to admit how he doesn’t want to stop, but his break is almost over. You’re more messy looking than he is at the end, and Jamil can’t help but look smug. People won’t catch you in the act, but it raises some eyebrows when you come out of Jamil’s room a little more messy than when you entered. 

❥ Vil Schoenheit

You lucky bastard. Another one that doesn’t indulge in such actions often. Vil doesn’t like to admit how much you get to him. The fact that he restrains from any physical affection with you mixed with how much he wants to drown you in love…yeah lets say he finds himself releasing his pent up emotions on your poor lips. He only allows such acts when you're both unwinding for the day, and you are not allowed to leave any evidence (he has an image to uphold). Vil kisses you with so much passion you’re left breathless with the first one, and he won’t hold up either. You seriously question his remark of you being his first partner because the way he kisses you makes him feel like an expert. He looks like a God (always) by the end. Eyes dilated, chest heaving, golden hair barely out of place (but enough to make your heart flutter, you did that). Once you both slow down, he’ll pepper your face with kisses wishing you a good night's rest as he plays with your hair…you're not sure if you could sleep after that. 

❥ Idia Shroud

You will always be the one to initiate such intimate acts. As much as he wants to, he’s too shy. An innocent kiss going a little farther as Idia couldn’t resist the temptation that was you. And as your lips locked, Idia found his nervous energy leaving him as his mind melted into a goop. His kisses are inexperienced, teeth clashing with yours (he didn’t mean too), but he’ll learn over time. He can be a fast learner, and who wouldn’t want to get some practice in? (Idia is more willing than you’d think). He gets a bit uncharacteristically confident the longer you two kiss. Pressing your lips together more firmly, shaking hands holding onto your figure, small whimpers swallowed by your awaiting mouth. Both of you are flustered beyond imagination by the end, warm cheeks and fast beating hearts, shaky breaths. Just like that, Idia finds himself short circuiting. You were just so amazing, lovely, warm…you were gonna kill him one day. Don’t even think of doing anything like that in public though, he might actually die (and cry and never go outside again). 

❥ Malleus Draconia

Every time you shared a kiss it would be one of passion. Malleus loves you so much he felt the need to express it, make sure you clearly understood how much you meant to him. But you would have to be the one to push further, as Malleus usually left it at one kiss, he wanted you to set the pace. He won’t back down if you continue to kiss him, his actions will become more possessive. Hands that cradled your cheeks move to the back of your head, his kisses becoming more hungry. He basks in your warmth, in your love, in your being. He loses himself in you, and he internally thanks you for allowing himself to indulge in your love. Malleus isn’t foolish enough to think it's appropriate for such actions to be indulged in with others present…but he also finds himself uncaring. He loves you, and if you wish it, who was he to deny? (Sebek will be so stunned that he can’t get any words out). Not to mention how exhilarating to see the fae prince’s composure shattered. Pink cheeks, dilated eyes, puffy lips…oh what a sight indeed.

[helaintoloki]

Hey I want to request something since I saw your request was open. So can you do a fic where five and y/n ( they are already married) end up in the deli with the other fives.

Basically there are only few fives that have a y/n but she's died in their timeline. So basically it's just the other fives wanting to know more about her abd the fives telling their stories of their y/n

Y/n absolutely loves the attention she almost sequeled when she saw the other fives lol.

a/n: so this actually ended up turning into a more depressing piece than i planned LOL but the original intention is there

warnings: language, angst, mentions of death, light amount of fluff

summary: your search for answers leads you to a deli with multiple versions of your husband inside

As the danger of the impending apocalypse finally begins to sink in for Five, he realizes he needs to get you somewhere safe until he figures out a way to stop the world from ending. Thus, while his siblings continued to fight off the monstrous cleanse that was Ben and Jennifer, Five quickly grabbed hold of you and jumped you both to the only place he could think of.

You stumble over your own feet as your body adjusts to being dropped into a new setting, your hand quickly raising to shield your eyes from the bright neons that hang above you as you take in your surroundings. A subway car comes to a screeching halt in front you, and before you can protest Five is quickly ushering you inside.

“Five, where are we?” You demand, completely disoriented from having been transported away from the fight without warning and preoccupied with worry at the thought of your family fighting against the Cleanse without you both present. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you somewhere safe where you can stay until I figure out how to undo this mess,” he instructs you hastily, his lips pulling back into an exasperated frown at your resistance to enter the subway car. He doesn’t have time for you to fight him on this, his siblings need him, and he needs you away from the fight. Though you’re skilled at combat and wickedly smart, you don’t have powers, and Five can’t risk something happening to you while he’s preoccupied with saving the world.

“You’re leaving me?!” You exclaim in distress as panic immediately begins to take over your rational mind. You push against him harder to move away from the train, but despite all your efforts the boy doesn’t budge.

“It’s only temporary, I promise you,” he assures you, and when you shove him hard in the chest once more he tightly takes hold of your hands and brings them to his lips to comfort you. “I’ll take you somewhere nice, somewhere with a beautiful house and a garden full of strawberry bushes. I found it while exploring other timelines in search of clues on how to prevent the apocalypse, I know it’s safe because I went there alone. You can stay in the house until this is all over and I’ll come back for you.”

“Five, what if…” you swallow harshly as tears begin to well in your eyes, your emotions overtaking you at the thought of this being goodbye, “…what if you don’t come back?”

Five refuses to meet your gaze when the question leaves your lips. He’d never lie to you, and he knows he can’t guarantee he’ll live long enough to join you in the peaceful timeline he’d found, but he doesn’t have the heart to voice this to you. How can he look you in your tear filled eyes and tell you that this might be the last time you’ll be together as husband and wife?

Sighing, he releases your hands in exchange for cupping your face so that he may brush away the tears that slide down your warm cheeks. He hopes that one day you’ll be able to understand that every moment leading up to this has been for you, and he would happily die a hundred times over if it meant keeping you safe. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

You open your mouth to argue only to snap it shut when your gaze falls over his shoulder and lands on another figure in the subway. You blink away your tears to get a better view and are left speechless when you realize you’re staring back at the face of your husband.

But how can that be when he’s standing right in front of you?

Noticing your change in demeanor, Five follows your gaze and spots the lookalike that stands across the way from you both. His features contort into confusion as you both watch the second Five offer you a wave in greeting before disappearing down the stairs. Exchanging looks of uncertainty, Five and yourself immediately rush after the doppelgänger to figure out just what exactly is going on.

Your quick chase leads you both to the front doors of a deli, the dazzling sign above welcoming you warmly as you cautiously open the doors and set foot into Max’s despite Five’s protests to wait. If this other Five has the answers you need to return home safely together, then you’ll stop at nothing to get them.

Your originally confident demeanor quickly dwindles when the restaurant becomes deathly silent upon your entry. While you only expected to see one Five, you now find about twenty of them staring intently at you as you slowly walk towards the lookalike from the subway that waves you over to his table. Five is quick to rush after you and place a protective arm around your waist; you’re not the only one unsettled by their stares, and he feels uncharacteristically territorial in the presence of himself.

“Have a seat,” the subway lookalike offers with a gesture towards the empty space across from him, and you’re both quick to slide into the cushions at his command. “I’m glad you found me.”

“What is this place?” Your husband demands impatiently as another Five dressed in a waiter’s uniform approaches your table with three cups of coffee in hand.

“This is where all the Fives come after they decide to give up on figuring out a way to stop the apocalypse.”

As he speaks, a plate of pie is suddenly placed in front of you, and before you can even open your mouth to question it, the waiter offers you wink and assures you, “It’s on the house.”

Picking up the fork, your eyes widen in surprise as you realize what specific dessert has been given to you. Looking up at the Five across from you, you ask, “How did he know that-“

“Pumpkin pie is your favorite?” The lookalike finishes for you with an amused smile before leaning back to take a drink of his coffee. “We all know that, because we all know you.”

“Me?” You repeat quietly, brows drawn together in confusion as you look to your husband who seems rather displeased with all of the attention you’re getting. He never once thought to think of himself as potential competition over you, but it figures. Who better than himself to sweep you off your feet?

“Mind telling me why you all seem to have such a great interest in my wife?” Five demands with a wry smile, eyes blazing with annoyance and a subtle hint of jealousy.

“‘Your’ wife?” The Five behind the deli counter scoffs in amusement. “Take a number, pal.”

“What deli Five means to say is that each and every one of us has our own y/n in our own perspective timelines,” the boy across from you clarifies before gesturing to the the back of the shop. Your eyes widen in shock as you take in all the various pictures of yourself that line the wall from top to bottom, and it takes you a moment to process the fact that various versions of you have existed throughout time unbeknownst to you.

“My y/n was a trained assassin,” the Five at the table next to you describes with a dreamy smile before biting into his sandwich.

“Mine was sent alongside Hazel and Cha Cha to kill me,” another voices while pulling down the collar of his shirt to showcase the ghastly scar on his chest. “She gave me this along with three beautiful kids before I screwed it all up with this end of the world bullshit.”

“If you all care so much about her then why did you give up trying to save the world?” Your husband protests in agitation. Your search for answers is going absolutely nowhere, and you’re both left with more questions than solutions. If these doppelgängers were really meant to be him from different timelines, then why did they quit so easily? His sole purpose, his entire being, was doing everything in his power to ensure the safety of his family. Come hell or high water, Five would always be willing to get his hands dirty if it meant you and his siblings lived to see another day. So why weren’t they doing the same? “Why come here instead of preventing the apocalypse so she has the chance to live a safe and happy life even if it means you can’t be in it?”

A forlorn silence fills the deli at his question, and now none of the Fives can find it in themselves to look at you. Their features are almost shameful, their eyes full of guilt and their shoulders full of tension as no one dares to answer.

“When us Fives find a way to save the world, y/n is the one that pays the price,” the boy across from you discloses somberly before tilting his head to meet your gaze. Looking at you is like looking at a ghost, and he has to stop himself from reaching out to you as if you are his own. “The Handler killed my y/n after discovering my betrayal of the Commission.”

Another Five raises a woeful hand before announcing, “Viktor killed my y/n on accident with his bow after he discovered his powers.”

“My wife took a bullet for me because she thought my life was worth more than her own.”

“Dad had y/n disposed of in my timeline because he saw her as a distraction to me and my siblings.”

“Cha Cha tracked us down, found our home, and burned it to the ground with y/n still in it while I was away trying to save the world.”

You swallow harshly and ignore the knots in your stomach at hearing all the violent ways in which other versions of you had met their end. Your heart aches at learning what these men have been through and how much they’ve lost, but it also makes you begin to wonder if your fate will be worse than any story they can come up with. Sensing your discomfort, Five wraps a comforting arm around your figure and pulls you closer into his side.

“No matter how many times I traveled back to make it right, the result was the same,” the boy across from you relents in a desolate tone. “If I couldn’t even keep the most important woman in my life safe then how could I expect myself to save the world?”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you murmur softly, taking it upon yourself to reach across for his hand and offer your comfort. “I’m sorry for all of your losses. But as a y/n myself, I don’t think she would have wanted you to give up. She would have wanted you to keep going in spite of her death because that’s what she loved about you- your strength and your resilience when it comes to saving the people you care about.”

“God, you sound just like her,” he comments with a doleful laugh before shaking his head and pulling his hand away. “Believe me, I did everything I could. But no matter what we do, there’s no escaping the apocalypse.”

“So that’s it? There’s nothing we can do?” Five retorts in disbelief. This was all a complete waste of his time. He’s nowhere near close to preventing the Cleanse, and you’re still not somewhere safe away from the impending apocalypse.

“You can enjoy the time you have left with your y/n,” the lookalike instructs firmly, the other Fives in the deli nodding along. “You got lucky, you still have your wife, so why don’t you do us all a favor and take her somewhere nice?”

“I’m not giving up on this,” your husband argues before hastily rising from his seat in the booth. “There has to be a way to save the world, and I won’t stop until I figure it out myself.”

You watch him stalk out of the deli with purpose as he slams the door open and begins to formulate his next move. The room is silent other than the bell that jingles above the door, and you take this as your cue to leave.

“I should probably go after him,” you admit with a meek smile before scooting your way out of the booth. The Five from the subway rises to meet you, and he can’t help but to carefully cup your face in his hands and admire your features for just a moment. This might be the last time he’ll ever get to see you in person, and he’d like to commit every detail of you to memory from the reflection of the light in your eye to the smell of your perfume.

“If he ever gives you any trouble, you know where to find us,” he instructs you firmly before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and releasing you from his hold. Smiling faintly, you return the gesture by chastely pressing your lips to his cheek before rushing off after your husband.

Who would have guessed that in every timeline, in every possible version of himself to exist, Five’s love for you knows no bounds.

[bittersw33t-lotus]

Surprise

Ghosting pt. 1

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader

Cw: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of abortion, angst, arguments, abandonment, younger Simon, story takes place when he’s 25 and you’re 23.

Part 2 here

“kids?”

“What about them?”

“Would you ever want any?”

It was yours and Simon your one year anniversary. It was nothing special, just some takeout and card games with a movie playing in the back. You don’t know how the conversation of your futures came to be but you both knew it had to be said at some point in your relationship. You asked what Simon planned to do once he got older and retired from the military. He asked you questions about your plans as you grew older. That’s when you decided to be the one to bring up the very question that tends to either strain or strengthen a relation, children.

“No. Hard pass. I don’t do well with them nor do I want any of my own.” He never meant to say it with such a rude tone but It didn’t bother you much. You knew that there was a deeper reason why with the way his brows furrowed and the tension in the shoulders. You wanted him to elaborate more but you decided against it.

“Yeah I’m not too keen on children. At least right now anyways.” You said placing down your card on the table as Simon continued to examine his cards to find a way to defeat you. He looked at you as you spoke your last words as you kept your eyes on your cards. You liked kids to a certain extent and wouldn’t mind one later on in your life as you settle down or just none at all. You tried not to let Simons words get to you, since you don’t mind a childless life, as long as you had Simon by your side, but sometimes there would be days where you felt lonely without Simon when he’s deployed to his job. There’s also days where you fear he’ll never come back home and you’d be left with nothing to remember him by but memories, pictures and his possessions. A kid would be something that not only would be a piece of him that breathes and moves but they would be the physical embodiment of yours and Simons’ love, something that would keep you two tied to each other.

As nice as a child with Simon would be, you respected his wishes and you would have to come to terms with it. It’ll just be you and Simon, growing old together in a little house on the far side of town where no one can bother you and it’ll just be you, your grumpy (eventual) husband and your animals to keep you company. Yeah, you could live with that.

Hopefully, if he doesn’t die on the job…

“It’ll just be the two of us and a bunch of animals.”

That’s how you’d thought it be. Until it wasn’t.

You sat there on your bed holding the white stick in your hand. The pink plus sign was burning your eyes. You could feel your stomach churning. What the hell were you gonna do? You were panicking. You had been throwing up the past few days, Simon suggested you’d go see a doctor worried you ate something bad or caught some stomach bug but you refused and said you’d be fine thinking it go away within a few days however more things surfaced on your body that caught your attention. You breast grew a cup bigger and felt sore as hell, you assumed it was due to your period, it was due to arrive in a week anyway but you still found it abnormal that your breast swelled up so much. When the week passed you figured it was delayed due to your little stomach bug but another week passed. That’s when the thoughts hit you. You couldn’t be right? There’s no way you could be pregnant. You and Simon were always careful.

That same day of realization you went to the drug store just to be sure. You brought three sticks and each one came out with the same pink plus sign appearing on the little box. What the hell were you gonna do? How were you going to tell Simon? Maybe you don’t. You can just get an abortion and get it over with. Well, maybe it’s best if you tell him either way. But the more you thought about the baby, the more harder it seemed for you to think about getting rid of it.

You never really made your decision on not having kids, you figured that when it happens it happens, but what about now? Simon doesn’t want a baby, but you’re pregnant with the child you created with the love of your life, Yours and Simons baby…

Tears prick your eyes as you stared at the stick. What are you going to do?

Simon was out drinking with his ‘comrades’ so you had some time to yourself before he came back. You needed to plan a time when you’d tell him. But you were beyond terrified. You know having this baby was putting your relationship with Simon at risk. But this was just as much of his doing as yours, but at the same time, your IUD should’ve prevented this from happening.

You tired to gain the courage in the past couple days since you’ve found out, to tell him but you never could. For days Simon could tell something was bothering you, and it wasn’t the sickness you had. It was something that was clouding your mind. He could see in your eyes that something was troubling you.

Simon had just returned to home from the bar, feeling dreadful about having to be deployed once again here in a couple of days, he doesn’t want to leave you. He hates it, he hated leaving you here all alone, he can’t be there to protect you, hold you and love you but his job makes it worth it if it means you get everything you deserve. Even if he isn’t around for long periods at a time.

As he walks into the house you greet him with a smile, he’s a little tipsy but just barely since he still had to drive home, he did enjoy his time with Price, Soap and Gaz though. Even if he didn’t outright admit it.

“How’d it go?” You asked him as you approach him with a small smile. You’re too nervous to give him his usual greeting kiss which made Simon’s suspicions of your worry confirmed.

“It was fine, not too shabby and the boys were okay as usual. I need to ask you something.” He said glancing your direction aa he looks into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind, he cups your face gently as he approached you. He saw your body tense up, you tried to save yourself by quickly relaxing before Simon could see but it was too late, he already did. That was his que. “There’s something bothering you, I can see it. You know you can’t hide things from me and I understand you don’t wanna talk about it but at least let me help you the way you help me.”

Your throat grew dry, ‘Shit.’ You thought. You could feel your anxiety flow through your nerves as your hand began to tremble slightly. Your silence worried Simon. “Yn…” He called out but you stood silent.

‘It’s now or never, i can’t hide this forever, not when I start to show.” You thought, Simons hand gently rubbed your cheekbones which brought your attention back to him. Your teary gaze met his concerned ones. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry…” You quivered out. You tried to keep your composure but the hormones betrayed your body. “For what? What happened love?” He grew more worried as the tears rolled down your face. He wiped them away with his fingers as he cradled your face, as you both stare into the others gaze. “You promise you won’t be mad, I’m scared you’re gonna hate me, leave me and…” You whisper but Simon cuts you off as he leaned down to take your lips into a soft but passionate kiss, pulling away you look at him such vulnerability as you wrap your hands around Simons wrist gently. “I won’t.” He whispers back to you, his eyes filled with concern and love in his eyes. It makes your heart break thinking about what can happen next.

Your breath hitched before you inhaled and closed your eyes leaning into Simons touch. “I’m pregnant…” it was silent for a hot second. You felt his hands stiffen up but quickly relax as he looked a bit surprised. Your IUD should’ve been working, but he can’t blame you, there’s still a small chance.

“Have you made an appointment?” He asked after a long silence.

“For what?” You look up nervously, your guts telling you things were going downhill soon now, it’s too late you’ve already made up your mind.

“To get rid of it.” He asks you confused but something was telling him something else is going on. It was dead silence after that, you didn’t even need to say anything, the look in your eyes were enough to tell Simon what your intentions were. His hands were stiff it almost felt like a mannequins hands were placed on your face but then they were quickly snatched away from your grasp and face. You gasped lightly at the action. He took two long strides away from you, his eyes were slightly wide and had a blank look in them as he stared at you.

You wanted to call out to him but his eyes alone were enough to tell you that he was about to run. Your heart throbbed and your stomach began to churn again. More tears began to flow and obscure your vision. “Simon…” You called out to him, you refrained from walking towards him, terrified that one wrong move and he’d run and leave you in the dust. But it seemed to trigger him.

His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes began to show frustration. “No.” He shook his head as you sobbed. “Dammit yn I thought we established this. You promised!” He began to raise his voice, his fear coming to light. Not only was your relationship beginning to strain but you were planning to bring a child into this world. His child. All he could think about was his father and his family something he doesn’t want to experience or risk history to repeat itself.

“I’m sorry Simon but I never made a promise! But I truly didn’t mean for this to happened but it did and when I thought about having an abortion I couldn’t bear that thought of it. I know what we had in mind was to not have any kids but I can’t bring myself to get rid of our baby.”

“No we agreed that we’d have no kids, for Christ sake, I’m always at base and deployed. I can die and leave you to raise a baby alone. And I’m not ready to care for a baby, nor did I ever plan on having one.” He didn’t yell but his voice sounded distant like he was guarded. Like how he used to be when you first met him back in high school, stiff as a stone with years and layers of built up walls around him to keep anybody out from his heart and mind, a troubled Simon who was haunted by his abusive father wanting to save his mother and brother the ones who are now six feet under. One that took you years to slowly tear down and let him trust you with more than one few but big bumble in the road but in the end you never gave up on him and always stuck by his side. “I can’t do this.” He didn’t sound like your Simon anymore. He sounded like Ghost now. The Ghost he separated you from, the Ghost that was cold hearted and never cared about anything or anyone else but getting his priorities done and missions finished.

Your breath hitched. “What do you mean?” Your voice quivered. Ghost didn’t even bother to answer you he made his way to the bedroom. “Simon please!” You treaded after him, your anxiety surfacing again.

You walked into the bedroom to see him reaching into the closet and pulling out his bag, already packed with all the gears and items he needed for his deployment. Slumping the strap over his shoulder as you watched made your throat tighten.

It was nothing but silence the whole time as you watched Simon pack away a last minute items he’d need. You watched as he began to tie on his boots. “You’re right,” you finally spoke. Your voice soft as you tried not to let out a sob. “You don’t have to do this, you can keep doing what you do. I’ll keep the baby without you.” Simon just sat there listening to you as he kept his gaze glued to the ground. You couldn’t see what he was thinking with his Balaclava on now but you could see his fists clenched tightly. “I won’t make you go through this but just know, I still love you Simon, but I want this baby. You won’t hear from me asking you for anything at all. Just know once you walk out that door. I’ll be gone, unless you say something Simon...” you stand there staring at him hoping he’ll say something… anything. A sliver of wanting to be around at least or try to work something out but you know it’ll never come. He’s Simon, Ghost, he’s not, and may never be, mentally prepared nor does he have a lifestyle fit enough to raise a baby. Without a single noise Simon gets up and walks past you to the bedroom door, you watch his back, he doesn’t spare you a single glance before he walks out without another word.

After a few seconds, you hear his boots stomp down the stairs, the door opening and slamming shut. Your que to finally let all your sobbing out easing the pain in your throat. You sat on the floor holding your stomach. You were really on your own now. Just you and your baby.

You were lucky you managed to gain contact with your older sister, Stacy, she and her husband had welcomed you into their home with no hesitation, surprisingly. Granted you and your sister had some mending to do but it was mostly cause by your parents. Your mother had always founds way to turn you and your sister against one another when you two were younger. You both always fought and tried to better the other for praise of your mother she’d always compared one over the other, “Your sister is skinner than you,” “You eat like a pig, your sister eats better than you,” “your sister this” or “your sister that”. You mother always tried to make you two compete against the other that both physically and mentally damaged you both.

Your father never bothered with you two, you could never talk to him without every conversation ending in a some form of abuse or never in the right mindset being constantly high off his mind with drugs. But as you grew older you began to see the things your mother did to you and your sister but you never took the chance to make amends, your sister met her then boyfriend and ran away with him the first chance she got, you did the same when you met Simon.

“Are you alright?” She approaches you as you got out the car. The moment you came face to face with her you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and brushed into tears. “I’m sorry!” You cried out. “It’s okay.” She hushes you and cradled your head. “No it’s not, I should’ve talked to you, we should’ve made up long ago but I ran off…”

“And so did I!” She cut you off. “I was the one that ran off first, I was the one who left you in the dust for some guy that turned out to be a fraud. I chose a man over my own sister but I was too dumb to see it. We both made mistakes but now that we’re here, let’s take this chance to make it right.” She wiped your tears from your face. “Now tell me what wrong?” She asks you as you take a deep breath. “Simon left me.” You say, your sisters eyes widen in surprise and sympathy. “Well technically I left but we decided that we were through.”

“Why, what happened?” She asks you as she began to guide you to her house. As you make your way in you wipe your eyes as you think about the memory.

“I’m pregnant.” You start off, your sister is caught off guard and stunned, but she doesn’t speak and allows you to continue. “I found out not too long ago.”

You sister looks at you in shock. “Is that why… Simon…” she tries to ask, you know what she’s saying before you nod answering her question.

“Yeah, we’ve had the talk before. We agreed on no kids because he didn’t want any, me, I wasn’t too sure at the time but now, now I know, I do want this kid.” You say as you lay a hand on your stomach. “I don’t know what to do know. I told him and shit just went down hill. He made his choice and I made mine. I left home, he left because he’s currently on deployment but he’s made his choice not to be in the baby’s life. I gave him the choice to leave because I don’t want to force him into this since he never wanted any in the beginning.” You say, you sit on the soft couch as you both settled on conversing in the living room.

“He’s in the military?” She asks him a bit surprised, she’s still trying to process all this new information about your current situation and your now ex-boyfriend.

You nod your head and rub your eyes feeling the fatigue catch up to you from the past couple of days. You’ve nearly gotten a wink of sleep ever since Simon left, the past two days you were packing up all your things that you needed and wanted to take with you into your car, and you were stressing about where’d you go and be staying up until your Stacy, thankfully, responded back to you and offered you a place to stay at her house. “Yeah, he doesn’t tell me much about it. But from what I’ve seen every time he came back, it was always bad. He’d come home with bruises, sometimes wounds that sometimes looked to be fatal. It always scares me every time he goes, and I sometimes never know when he’ll be back, or if he’ll come back at all.” You explain to her. You leave out the part where he’d be a shell of himself, like a ghost possessing Simon, so unemotional, and you can never forget how scary it was seeing how empty his eyes looked sometimes.

Stacy looks at you, she’s processing all this and trying to her best to listen but she can tell that’s it’s a lot for her to take in. You don’t blame her, you two haven’t seen each other er for over five years, so there’s a lot of catching up to do. “I promise you I’ll only be here for a few months. I’ll find a place to stay for the baby and I before they’re born, we’ll be out of your hair soon.” You tell her quickly trying to reassure her that it’s only temporary and you’re not going to take advantage of your sister’s kindness and willing to help you out, you don’t wanna have the burden of having her worry about you and have a baby in the house. You’ve already become enough of a burden for Simon with the baby.

Stacy shakes her head and gently takes your hand and gently squeezes it. “Don’t worry about it. Take as much time as you need to get back on your feet. You got a kid to worry about now. And granted, it may be hard but I believe in you. You’re a strong woman, I know you can get through this, you always do. And even if you don’t, I’ll always be here to help you.” She says as she smiles at you fondly.

You feel so grateful for her. Your hormones have you all over the place both emotionally and physically. You’re on the verge of tears as you engulf Stacy into a hug once again. “Thanks Stac.” You say, your voice threatening to crack into a sob.

Stacy smiles at you and hugs you back. “Don’t thank me, you’re my little sister, family looks out for one another. Real family.”

꧁——————————꧂

Im debating if this series should have a twist to it. So stay tuned :)

[loveyouprongs]

did my heart love till now?

remus lupin x fem!reader | she’s a hopeless romantic who loves halloween. he loves her. or at least he very, very, strongly likes her in a way he’s never liked anyone else. enough to wear matching costumes

upcoming content: fluff! mentions of alcohol. lmk if you think i missed anything

authors note: i hope you like this! romeo & juliet is my favorite play and the 1996 film is my favorite movie! and remus is my favorite boy :’)!

word count: 2k

masterlist

remus had been staring at himself in the mirror for so long his reflection was starting to blur, like a watercolor painting made up of the soft brown of his hair, his pale complexion, and shining silver. he felt like a fool. “a lovesick fool,” james would say, but in this moment, he just felt like a fool. period.

“hey moony, have you decided what you’re going to be for halloween yet?” sirius asked as soon as he and james barged into their shared apartment. remus tore his gaze from his book at the sound of his best friend’s unnatural sounding greeting, loud and jilted as if he’d been practicing it.

“…no, wh-“

“well look no further!” james very enthusiastically exclaimed, pulling a brown bag out from behind his back which promptly fell to the ground, the contents now hanging between him and sirius. it was a knights armor. metal shoulder pads atop a slinky silver long sleeve top with chains resting across the chest.

“what the fuck is that?”

“your halloween costume!” james said as if it were obvious.

remus could do nothing but look at his two friends, who he cared for very deeply, as if they were right idiots.

“don’t you get it?” sirius asked, “it’s romeo!”

remus then felt his face red, heat rising to his cheeks all the way to his ears and he knew he couldn’t play dumb to get out of this.

last week at dinner you had said that you were planning on dressing as juliet for halloween. “from the movie of course!”

“isn’t that part of a couples costume?” marlene asked, “are you bringing a mystery man with you to my party?”

at that, remus tensed, his shoulders instinctively rising to his ears and his heart quickened waiting for your response. he hung out with you pretty much every day, you’re tight knit friend group always sharing at least one meal together. he felt like he would know if you had a boyfriend, but he was still feeling queasy waiting for your answer.

“no mystery men with me! i guess it could be a couple’s costume, but it’s so pretty, i don’t mind doing it solo.”

remus felt his body relax and continued to pick at his food, stealing glances at you whenever he could, missing the mischievous looks being traded between james and sirius.

“i am not wearing that,” remus said resolutely.

“why not? girls love this stuff!” sirius responded, tossing the costume on remus’ lap. he refused to touch it, as if any sign that he openly had feelings for you would somehow come back to bite him in the ass. it rested on his legs like an anchor.

“you want me to surprise her with a matching costume? that’s pathetic.”

“it’s sweet!” james stressed.

“yeah, and she’s always so heart eyed over that gooey romance shit, you show up in this and she’ll be begging for it!”

sirius’ crude comments was met with a smack in the head from james and an unimpressed stare from remus.

“remus, i’m telling you, this is a perfect idea! she’s single and dressing as one half of the greatest couples in history, if you show up as the other half, oh it’ll be like straight out of the pictures!” james swooned. remus felt his heart soften at his overdramatic friend, who he knew was just trying to help him be happy, but his nerves overpowered any convincing.

“you do know they both die at the end, right? kill themselves, even. not sure that’s a message i want to send.” remus muttered, standing up from the couch to go to his room, tired of his friend’s antics.

“you’ll never get a date by just staring at her, mate!” james called out, “and she’s well fit, too! you’re time is running out and you know it!” sirius added as remus walked down the hall, the metal costume in tow, only to be shoved in his closet.

but as halloween inched closer and his feelings for you only grew stronger, james and sirius’ words echoed in his head. he could never get the thought of your soft voice and sweet smile out of his mind, he liked you. so much.

you were always the one who kept listening to him when whatever he was saying was drowned out by the group. always spoke to him in dulcet tones, especially when you felt he had a headache. you were smart and funny and kind, not to mention beautiful. beautiful in a way that reminded him of the princesses and angels he would read about in books when he was a child. soft and warm, a glow seemingly always emanating from your figure.

remus would be content with just looking at you for the rest of his life, he thinks (deep down in the back of his brain, terrified of the strength of his own feelings) but it would be nice to do it without the feat of getting caught by your stare, or his friends taking the mick out of him afterwards.

so here he stood, his torso slightly weighed down by the heavy detailing, but it fit him well nonetheless. it was almost time for them to leave for marlene’s and remus could hear his friends in the living room. he had to make a decision soon.

“y’coming, moony?” james asked through the door.

remus took a deep breath, biting off a square of chocolate. he could do this. it was halloween! you’re supposed to be in a costume. and the film was popular enough, he figured, that he could play it off as a coincidence if things went south.

“…yeah, i’m coming.” he stepped out the door and walked down the hall, rolling his eyes at james’ loud gasp.

“oh my god you’re wearing it!” james practically screeched.

“don’t make me change my mind.”

“oh remus, you’re so handsome!” sirius teased in a high pitched voice, “please be my romeo!”

“for it is the east, and juliet is the sun!” james recited.

“that’s it, i’m changing!” remus exclaimed, only to be dragged back by his waist and walked out the door.

remus was hit by the noise of the party as soon as marlene swung the door open. her eyes trailed down james’ superhero outfit, sirius dressed as patrick bateman, and then remus, her face exploding in an open mouth smile. “reeeeemussss!!!!” she squealed, clearly already on her way to drunk, “you’re such a sweetheart!” she cooed, remus’ cheeks reddening more than he thought possible.

“isn’t he just? now let us in marls, it’s fucking freezing out here!” sirius said, and with a pat on the back, he and james were emerged in the crowd.

“she isn’t here yet, remus, but oh my god she’s going to love it,”

as the night went on remus had practically glued himself to marlene’s increasingly wasted side all night, no sign of james or sirius (who he would bet money are upstairs with dates, or each other), and more importantly no sign of you. he was feeling more foolish by the minute, the metal top growing uncomfortable against his sweaty skin.

disappointed was pooling in his stomach as marlene was nodding off on his shoulder, or so he thought, but he was brought out of his thoughts when a loud yelp escaped her. “you’re here! finally!”

marlene jumped up and stumbled over to a vision in white. flowing silk draped over your body, delicate, feathered wings pinned to your back. excess fabric tied around your waist, framing you beautifully. stunningly. remus felt like he was having an out of body experience, watching himself stand frozen in the middle of the living room, mouth slightly agape, willing himself to do anything other than stare.

“REEEEMUS LOOK! LOOK WHO IT IS!” marlene shout-whispered, shoving you towards him.

you felt your breath escape you at the sight. remus, tall and sweet, looking down at you, his tussled hair dancing across his forehead and his long fingers reached up to brush it out of his eyes, hand trembling. you weren’t fully convinced you weren’t dreaming.

“she, she’s pretty out of it,” he spoke softly, referring to marlene who was now dancing with a lamp.

“y-you look, i-i really like your costume, obviously” you murmured, fiddling with your hands, resisting the urge to run your hand down his sculpted cheeks.

ever since you met him, you believed remus was one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen. and then once you got to know him, got to experience first hand his limitless kindness, his witty remarks that always put the boys teasing to shame, and his rare barking laugh that only comes out when he finds something really funny (you elicited it from him once and have spent forever chasing that high).

all your friends said he had a thing for you. that he was always staring at you with soft, hooded eyes, move his plans around for you whenever you asked to study together, rest his jacket on the seat next to him so it would appear taken so no one else would sit down it it until you came.

but you were both famously mild-mannered, shy to a fault, and your feelings never rose to the surface, but the same couldn’t be said for right now.

“oh, thank you,” remus responded, “i thought it would be nice if we could match.”

a giggle escaped you at that and you looked down, unable to meet his eye, you both wearing twin smiles.

absolutely thrilled with your reaction, remus bent his body in half, tilting his head up to catch your gaze, eyes filled with hope, “what’d y’think?”

“i think you look very dashing, rem, i didn’t know you were a shakespeare fan.”

“hmm, not so much,” with a deep breath he let out, “i’m a fan of you, though”

the neon lights flashing over you both contributed to the bubble you found yourselves in. the rowdy guests nothing but white noise as you felt your heart pound against your chest over the soft spoken boy.

“really?” it slipped out. deep seeded insecurity worming it’s way to the forefront as you were positively overwhelmed with confronting your feelings… and that who you had them for.

remus’ heart splintered a little at your warbling ask, “yes” he let out, easy as breathing, “of course.” he placed a large hand on your shoulder, his thumb dancing on the edge of your collarbone.

“i’m a fan of you, too. more than anyone else,” you whispered with a step closer, your white ballet flats lightly knocking against the tips of his black boots, the space between you dwindling.

“aren’t i lucky,” remus murmured wistfully, “to have an angel say that about me”

with that you couldn’t take it anymore and pressed your lips to his, immediately getting lost in the sparks. unsure of what to do with your arms, you awkwardly placed them on remus’ forearms, as if you were holding him still in place. he smiled against your lips, the breath escaping from his chuckle dancing across your face as he lightly dragged your hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders.

you melted as he pulled you in, you gasped as he ran his tongue against your bottom lip, you chased after his lips when he pulled away with a stuttering breath. “y’have to give me a minute angel, or m’heart’s going to give out,”

you giggled, knowing exactly how he felt as he tucked his face into your neck.

“oi oi, c’mon lupin! what did i tell ya! i knew you could do it!” sirius shouted from across the room, thrusting his cup in the air in congratulations.

“oh christ,” remus muttered, his annoyance dissipating with your laugh.

“you are a lover, moony! borrow *hic* cupid's wings and soar with *hic* them above common ground!” james, although very drunk and hiccuping, recited.

all remus could do was roll his eyes, he had everything he wanted right in front of him. after he was done kissing you until the sun came up (and a little bit more after that), he could figure out when the fuck james seemingly memorized romeo and juliet.

[evilminji]

You know what I think would be neat?

Loki, the Sky Walker himself, when he fell beyond the trees branches but before that Purple fucker could get him... felt A path, much like the hidden ones he'd wandered for YEARS, and franticly tries to catch himself.

After all, he let go in a moment of incredible emotional distress. But that moment passes. The fear kicks in. The natural, strategist's, "survival at all costs" primal drive starts SCREAMING. You grab for the ledge. Try to STOP your fall.

But~!

What if? What he was FEELING?

Was a Natural Fuckin Portal.

And Loki is no slouch! He manages to change his trajectory. His mind is still in shambles, he's an emotional wreck, mascara probably running, just? Having THE WORST month or so of his life. He's too pretty for this bullshit, he would insist, if he wasn't FALLING THROUGH THE VOID.

He's made some choices.

They may have been ill advised.

Possibly even terrible ideas, actually.

But he's come too far to die NOW. And if his brother's insane adventures and hare brained schemes haven't killed him, then THIS sure as shit won't be putting him in an graves. He refuses to allow it.

He expects to slam face first into alien dirt. At speed. It? Is going to HURT, he knows.

But that is not what happens.

He passes through a yawning portal, into Veridian skys, and slams face first into the back of passing youth. Knock BOTH of them from the sky and through several nearby floating islands.

He nearly gets punched for it.

The boy only stopping, fist merely moments from his faces, when he seems to finally register the state Loki is in. The next thing Loki knows? He's being rushed off Yeti healers. A FUSS is being made.

The youth is strong arming him into being a guest in his... frankly ALARMING home.

Loki likes the Gothic one. She seems like she bites. But the boy's parents BAFFLE him. The boy, "Danny" just? Showed up with him? And declared he was a "visiting Fenton Cousin"? SURELY that can not WORK! Boy, they are your PARENTS, they know better then YOU who is and is not rela-.....

How did that work.

No, HOW DID THAT WORK? Child answer me. And explain the violent cold meats.

Just? Loki, intellectually stimulated, like a cat in a fresh new environment. Removed from stressors. Not the strongest being around by far, but enjoying the challenge none the less. Fulfilling his life long trained role of "king's advisory" in an almost relaxed Highly Sarcastic Uncle On Vacation Who Is Also A Semi-Feral Cat sorta way to this new Child King he found.

Loved and respected for Being Loki. Just Loki. No preconceived notions to fulfill, no roles he must play, just... Be Loki.

Best part? Asgard and Thor and such? Irrelevant! Their own closed system far, far away. He's finally FREE of the shadow Asgard casts. He's taken "starting over in a new country to escape a toxic home life" to a whole new weight class unique just to him. The dude is THRIVING.

And? I bet he REALLY enjoys tormenting Vlad.

@ailithnight @hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @nerdpoe

[kombuuuu]

Miles 42 headcanons?

no one asked but i’ll deliver !!

Miles!42 x Fem!Reader random headcanons

also a lot of snippets :)

You/Reader: Blue

Miles Morales: Purple

Mama Rio/Rio Morales: Pink

Uncle Aaron/Aaron Morales: Orange

Random/stranger: Black

—

gift giving love language duhhh

Will have you walk with him through malls and whatever you look at for a second too long he buys

You don’t catch on until you’re both eating at a nice restaurant, absentmindedly staring at some plant when a lull in conversation happens.

He purchases the plant.

“Fuck you mean I can’t buy it?”

“Sir, the plants aren’t for sale, this is a dining establishment.”

“Establish the fact I’m gettin’ that plant.”

“Sir—“

50 bucks down and a plant 🆙

He will damn right die if you refuse him. He’ll get all grumpy and pouty when you say he should save for a house, not for you.

convinced you just get shy when bought things (you do).

is even more motivated to buy things

“Miles, baby, you need to save up. Not spend on me!”

“This would look so good on you, Ma.”

“Are you listening??”

“Fuck, and this.”

“Oh my god.”

gets so jealous it’s unbelievable

but only when someone goes too far with you

it’s like 1–100 real quick

he’s not usually the prowling type (ha)

but when someone pushes the line he loses his shit

other than that he’s a supportive bbg all the way

“Wanna go home with me, butterface?”

“Fuck you just say?”

“Nothing homie just get outta here.”

“Say that shit again ‘homie’.”

“Chill the fuck out. Let the lady speak for herself.”

“I’ll fucking speak for my girl all I want, homeboy.”

maybe got a liiiiittle bit of an anger issue

guy went home with a broken nose and a missing tooth

better hope he can afford fill ins

he would never get mad at you though

he gets frustrated you don’t listen sometimes, but it’s never to the point of anger

feel like he has the patience of a fucking SAINT

calm and collected baby u know the deal

“Mami, we gonna have a problem?”

“”

“Didn’t think so.”

a SWEETHEART at times

stand by him being raised right

mama rio taught him to be a romantic

wanted him to take after his dad

so flowers and gifts and chocolates

followed by lovin of any kind

probably a baby for affection but doesn’t show it

so when you get all emotional about being gifted roses for the first time

and hug him and smother him

give him stupid little kisses all over

he’s fainting

poor boy doesn’t know love like u show him

“Baby, are these for me?”

“Yeah, Chiquita. They okay?”

“Wh… They’re perfect.”

“Are you cryin’? I can return ‘em.”

“No! No, no, don’t do that.

I love them, C’mere.”

when you guys get rlly comfortable, like a year and some dating, he ends up getting more chatty

willingly talking w you for hours

feels like you’re the only person he can rlly do that with

rambles so rarely that you kind of just sit in awe when it happens

doesn’t catch himself until he’s trying to name your future kids

“I’ll marry you one day, we’ll have like two, three kids. Get all nice an cozy.

You want a boy or girl? I kinda want both. Definitely not girl first, never having a girl without a brother to protect ‘er.

You’d be such a good Mami.

What’d you wan’ name ‘em? I have a few ideas—“

“..”

“But you could choose the girl cause I don’t know any pretty names. And i’ll choose—“

“..”

“..”

“You gon’ let me keep goin?”

“I love your voice.”

“Tranquila, mami.”

Takes you to every family event he ever has

sits you regularly with Rio and Aaron

they insist you call them uncle and ma

you do, obviously

miles doesn’t need to meet your family if you don’t want him to, but if he ever does he’s totally suave with them

like weirdly smooth

able to get on ur carers good side quick

when you meet his extended family they’re just as loving

his whole family is this bright dash of colour

and you fit right the fuck in

“¡Oh, hija estás preciosa!”

“Dice la estrella de la fiesta!”

“You flatter me, Hija.”

“Miles, come get your girl.”

“You look nice too, Uncle Aaron.”

“..Thanks, kid.”

“Hey Mami, havin’ fun?”

“Aight, I’m out.”

when you find out he’s the prowler you’re not really shocked

he’s hella nervous to tell you and kinda puts it off for a while

as long as you’re not in harms way, nothin matters, yeah?

no

the guilt eats him alive

he’s already lost so much, if he doesn’t do things right with you, then loses you too

he’d probably lose himself

so he tells you

“The Prowler?”

“Yeah.”

“The.. Panther guy I keep seeing on the news-?”

“Mm.”

“Miles are you—

..—Are you killing people?”

“Mami, it’s not like that—“

“oh my god.”

“These men— I kill,”

“Oh my god, oh my god.”

“,They’re bad, you understand.”

“Miles..”

“[Name]. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.. Yeah I understand.”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.”

“…”

“Are you mad.”

“I’m not happy.”

“Okay.”

you’re kind of devastated he’s killing people

but you eventually get it

like it takes a while

say a month or so

but you forgive quick

i mean, who knows what those men are doing, right?

(ur delulu but it’s ok)

he lets you have your space but talking with mama rio when she realises your absence knocks some sense into him

mans is going to GROVEL

he will fucking beg on his damn knees

knocks on your door and is already kneeling

will plead with you to come back to him

like i said a whole ass romantic

you know what’s romantic? a man who can get on his knees

he will suffocate you in gifts and affection

oh you like (insert sanrio esc character) ? look over there at that lifesize plushie woahhhh wonder who that’s forrrrrr

“Hello?”

“Mami, don’t close the door.”

“Miles, go home.”

“And please stop kneeling, the floor is dirty.”

“I’m not leaving ‘til you hear me out.”

looooong sigh

“Okay, fine— whatever, come inside. You have two minutes.”

“God, I missed you. You’re so beautiful Chiquita.”

“Three minutes.”

You talk it out easy, he’s a real smooth talker when he wants to be

“Okay Miles, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”

“Yeah, Ma. See you soon.”

“Wh—.. What is that?”

“Ohhh…”

“Why the fuck is it so big?”

“It said “Life Size” on the site? I was thinking like two feet tall.”

“You bought that?”

“Yeah.. I was thinkin’ you wouldn’t let me in. Would have to bribe you.”

“…That’s really cute.”

Annnnnd that’s all i can come up with i’ll probably do more later :P

[periprose]

Hi! :)

I’m craving some Logan Howlett angsty fluff and I really like your writing style… Do you think you could maybe do a fic where either Logan and reader are in the heat of the moment and his claws come out and he scratches her. Or where Logan has a nightmare and the same thing happens. Either way the reader ends up comforting him.

Thank you! 🩷 :)

Hi!! So sorry for getting to this so late 🥹 loved the idea btw :) ended up doing a bit of a mix of both? If that makes sense.

/

"Out with it."

Your voice rings out clearly among the X-Men, the throng of battle no longer around you all. It was a more exhausting battle than you would've thought, but nothing irks you more than knowing that Logan has been apparently thinking of you as someone to play babysitter to. He hadn't trusted you to make your final blow to the enemy, and instead scooped you away to safety before lashing out with his own claws.

Logan clearly has something to say to you, and you want to hear it. You're not going to let him escape again- the way he always does, nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge how he treats you.

Charles stiffens next to you in the helicarrier. Watching the tension, feeling the palpable heart-wrenching sensation between you and Logan. He doesn't know how you got to this point.

"Listen. Just because you didn't have it doesn't mean you're not a good X-Man-" Logan starts dismissively.

"But I did! I did have it!" You shout back at him, and then inhale carefully. "Nobody told you to rescue me, Logan. If I was about to die, then I was. I wanted that to be on my own terms."

"Don't talk like you're a fucking martyr when you've never had the privilege, kid." Logan's unnecessarily harsh tone has you flinching. "Do you know how many people I've seen die, for no good reason? Do you really want a bunch of Pentagon psychos to be your last memory?"

"Shut up." You shift in your seat, feeling small. "We don't get to choose when we die. Not like you."

Logan becomes visibly angered with that, the little taunt you've made towards his immortality. "That doesn't mean you have to go seek it out, dumbass."

"Oh really? Don't tell me you're getting soft, Logan." You glare at him, and Charles and Jean and Scott look at each other uncertainly. "Just because your life is so long doesn't mean the rest of us have forgotten what it means to be alive."

There's an unspoken, sudden charge in the air, now that you've mentioned what everyone else has the good sense to shut up about- Logan having lived so long and not caring about the consequences of his actions. Logan's eyes narrow until you feel sure that you've pushed him too far this time- he looks more animal than human, more Wolverine than ever- and you feel yourself inching forward, letting the anger of not being understood push you to fighting him- and Charles suddenly raises his hand in protest.

"Please, you two. I'm not sure what has transpired today, but I know you are better than choosing to have a physical altercation on a helicarrier flight." His calm, soothing tone makes you feel a little disappointed in yourself, and you settle back in your seat, refusing to meet his or Jean's glances of concern.

/

All you really wanted was an apology. A "Sorry, I won't do that again." Or even an explanation for why Logan keeps tabs on you all the time, never letting you be a real part of the X-Men, always safely on the sidelines. Were you just too weak?

Should you even be here?

You feel guilty for what you said to him. It's not a bad thing, you know, that Logan doesn't want you to get hurt- it's just that you want to do your job. You're not a kid.

It almost, almost justifies how you treated him, but even you know that was too far. You can't act as if you know Logan's life story- not even Charles or Jean would claim to do that, and they've searched his mind for memories several times.

Like it or not, the man was mysterious. He kept to himself on a lot of things, citing past hurt as his reason why- and you should've respected that.

"Maybe I am weak." You mutter to yourself, wondering why you can't restrain your emotions around Logan.

You're practicing shooting small, psionic blasts towards the target in your room- it's a great way to pass the time when you can't sleep- when you hear a groan, a shudder, an angry, deep growl-

It sounds like Logan. His room is right above yours, and the sounds are definitely coming from there- you hear him yell, and before you can stop yourself, you're bounding up the stairs to the third floor of the X-Mansion, bursting through his room's door with a ready hand, in case you need to fight.

/

Logan watches as you berate him in his dream.

Actually, it's not quite you- it's some venomous, evil, witch wearing your face. You giggle at him- you call him old- you don't take him seriously.

With every taunt, you fire another bright purple blast at him- and for once, his body doesn't heal instantaneously. He is getting old, getting hurt, watching as blood pools out of him. It's agonizingly painful.

He's going to die this time, without making it right with you- he's afraid that you're right about him, that he's a washed up sad old man who can't ever let people in.

"We don't need you anymore, Logan..." The not-you whispers softly, smiling a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Logan can't help but believe it.

His self preservation instincts kick in, and he launches forward, snarling, claws out with a sharp snikt sound. He feels that even though he'll regret your death, he'll miss you immensely, it's just one more tally mark to several others.

/

"Logan. Logan!"

You're leaning over Logan's sweaty, clammy body in his bed. You watch as his hands fist in the sheets, and he tosses and turns in agony- you breathe in hesitation, in fear that he's not going to be okay- he grunts suddenly, and you're reminded of how Rogue tells you about his nightmares. They're frequent.

How out of touch could you have been today?

You gently-yet-firmly grab Logan's arm, shaking, and his arms move forward in a self-defense mechanism that seems practiced, as if he's been attacked in his sleep before, and before you can move away, there's a sharp snikt sound, a quick wave of claws, and a searing pain in your side.

It all happens before you can even blink. You fall off to the side, on the floor, writhing in pain. Logan's claws just nicked your side, it's essentially a scratch- but the pain is so much worse than you're expecting, and you fall to the floor again as you try to get up.

You breathe in harshly, holding back a sob, as you feel wet blood pooling through the side of your night dress.

"Jesus Christ." Logan pounces off the bed, waking to blood all over his claws, and he's leaning over your body, as you blink up at him hesitantly. He immediately panics, lifting you up and resting you on his squatted thighs. "Kid! Hey, kid, don't close your eyes-"

"..." You're just barely hanging on, but you listen.

And Logan feels that same sense of shame he felt when he attacked Rogue, when Jean "died", every single time he had accidentally unsheathed his claws towards someone who didn't deserve it.

Doubly so, considering it's like his terrible nightmare has come to life. But you absolutely didn't do anything wrong- he can't believe he was so angry with you.

He calls for help, in a slightly broken tone, and no one seems to be coming.

"Just a scratch." You try, but Logan shakes his head.

"No, no, no." Logan spits out. "How could I- I never meant to-"

"I'm sorry, Logan." You cough, and Logan feels awful that you're apologizing while bleeding out due to his actions. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not some unreliable old man who doesn't care..."

You flinch at a sudden, sharp pain, and Logan motions for you to stop talking, but you keep going.

"If anything, you're the opposite. You're there for me. And I'm sorry that I got so... so angry at you for that." You mutter to yourself, not aware of how Logan hangs onto your words. "You're protecting me from making mistakes, and I'm grateful."

"No, kid. You had a point before." Logan interjects, but you shake your head.

"Did I? Or was I being a brat?" You grimace at yourself.

"You did have a point. I was being selfish," Logan shakes his head and then swallows that urge to push you away. "I don't always know how to leave people well enough alone. Sometimes I'm too much."

He hesitates, and then continues on. "Like, I treat you as if you're a nuisance, right? But I always... I always want you next to me. And I know I should just sort my shit out like an adult. But I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Of what happens. What always happens." Logan sighs in defeat. "I fall in love, and they die. I find my people, and they leave me because I'm such a jackass. There's too much surrounding me that just... ruins everything."

"No, no. I won't leave." You tighten your hand around Logan's, and he, despite wanting to say that you're wounded because of him, believes you. He's so grateful to hear you say it- he had no idea that's what was weighing on him so badly.

He loves you, he knows he does. Logan has never been the best with feelings, but for once, he's glad he was honest.

The first thing Scott sees when he finally makes his way to Logan's room, from all the way across the X-Mansion, is Logan whispering "I'm sorry," and... he thinks (he's not 100% sure), "I love you," to your very forlorn, softly curved-around-him body.

It's a very tender moment, and Scott feels he should leave.

Then Logan presses a firm, shaky kiss on your forehead, and then your lips, and you, with your limited reserve of energy, kiss him back, and then Scott interjects with:

"Hey!...?"

He seems taken aback as you both look at him. "I heard screaming? What is this, some sort of weird cult sacrificial scenario?"

"Logan... had a... nightmare..." You wince, and Scott sees the red on your night gown. "I need... medical attention."

"On it." Scott glances at Logan for permission, and he's currently trying to push all these mushy feelings back into his chest where they belong, and he wants to be there to help you in the clinic, but he's flustered with everything that's happened and he can only hand you to Scott without looking at him.

Scott smirks to himself as he runs you to the clinic of the X-Mansion.

"You and Logan, huh? I knew there was something in that fight today." Scott remarks as you cling to him.

"It's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to figure it out, but yeah." You blush. "Has everyone else...?"

"Jean's been running a bet for the last year." Scott laughs. "She says you both are two sides of the same coin."

You can't help but agree.

[erindrinkstea]

Please Please Please

Poly! Dark! 141 x Reader

TW: Dark Themes, Spicy Themes, Possessive Behaviour, Obsessive Behaviour, Violence, Blood, Death

Description, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Main Masterlist | CoD Masterlist

Note: Hey, I'm back to my usual postings!

For a moment, you swore that you could hear frantic voices from the back of your subconscious. You swore that those voices sounded a lot like your teammates in the 141.

But they couldn't be them. Not with the way they sounded so distraught, begging and crying for your life. You almost felt flattered.

"Lieutenant. Bullet. Birdie. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I haven't been a good sargeant to you, a good friend and fuck- I've been a horrible person overall. Please. Let me correct my wrongs and stay alive."

"You're going to be alright, Bullet. I swear on it. You're not leaving us anytime soon, that's a promise."

"Don't die on us, Bullet."

"Fuck- lovie, I'm so fucking sorry. I shouldn't have lost focus on the field. Please. Look, you can shoot me again in the throat if it'll make you feel better, just- make sure you'll make it out alive to do it, yeah?"

You laughed in the back of your mind. The last voice reminded you of your scottish sargeant, what a johnny thing to say.

"What a Bullet thing to do. Laughing even on the brink of desth."

You blinked at the new but familiar voice. "Cori?" Your old sargeant.

"I must be in hell if I'm seeing you." You joked and the sargeant, kicked at your head as you were lying on the ground.

Sitting up, you noticed that you were in a blank void. A white space with nothing but you and your sargeant, your old friend.

"Believe it or not, Cap and I made it heaven actually. Don't know how we were able to sneak in but surprise." Cori joked and you smiled softly at how easily you two eased into banter despite the long years.

"What are you doing joining us so soon by the way?" Cori crouched down, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face. "Cap's gonna be angry if she hears about this."

You winced almost, "Can't you keep this a secret?" you pleaded. Soulmate or not- she'll find a way to kill you a second time if she finds out that you die so early. She always rained down hell whenever you were too reckless on certain missions.

"I don't know how you could keep your death a secret to another dead person, bullet. You're bound to meet sooner or later." Cori snickered.

"Ah fuck." You crossed your arms, preparing to face the wrath of your Captain. Only to find that your body was currently blinking, phasing in and out oddly. "What?"

"Oh." Cori looked surprised but pleased nonetheless. "Looks like you won't have to worry about facing Cap's wrath." He chuckles.

"They're really fighting to bring you back yknow." You didn't know who Cori was referring to. Who they are?

"Think your duty as Lieutenant is still far from over, Bullet." Cori pats your shoulder before you completely phased away from him.

The warmth on your shoulder was comforting even for a moment.

The panic was quick to run through their veins once they saw you go limp. They were assured you were not yet dead when they picked up a faint heartbeat.

A million thoughts ran through their heads as they rushed you to evac. Ghost yelling at Nik once they took their positions inside the helicopter. Price immediately contacting Laswell to prepare all the medics for your arrival. Soap holding onto one hand while Gaz held onto the other, both men pleading and talking to your unconscious form.

They usually wouldn't bother with your existence. They tolerated you as a teammate but refused to acknowledge you properly as their Lieutenant.

The 141 was a close pack, with loyalties that ran as deep as the ocean. So when they first met you, your bullet making a shot through Soap's throat. They were quick to build a resentment against you, quick to hold onto a grudge.

There were times where they felt warmth or awe at your small acts for them. With your little cooked meals, your aromatic teas, and your short notes. There were also scenarios where'd you'd stitch Ghost's balaclava when it rips or you'd patch Gaz up so gently when you're out in the field.

It was flattering to them but they always brushed off the butterflies, they'd shrug of the colorful fireworks. Refusing to acknowledge that they actually liked you because of a stupid grudge that you tried hard to make up for.

Now that stupid grudge might actually make them lose you. That drove them into a spiral- knowing that they might lose you and they haven't even done shit to make up for their mistakes.

"They're going to be fine. Bullet's strong. One of the damn best Lieutenants that I know." Gaz mumbled. He didn't know who he was trying to convince- Soap, him or maybe both of them.

"Please, Please. Make it out alive, birdie. Please."

[disaster-writer]

Ethereous

Pairing: King!Trueform!Sukuna x Reader

Summary: While handing out sentences to criminals, you’re brought in to receive your punishment though King Sukuna has different plans to deal with your crime

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Smut, non-con, slight gore, Sukuna has two pp’s, double penetration, anal, squirting, hella size kink, suicidal thoughts, reader has long hair and is described as small in comparison to Trueform Sukuna

A/N: This is a royalty AU but don’t look too closely for any historical accuracies, this was mainly about the smut

“Next,” Sukuna demanded disinterestedly, cheek resting atop his fist as he reclined leisurely on his throne.

The guards were quick to drag in the next criminal.

”Kudo Yoshimi,” Uraume announced, just as disinterestedly as their King, “Found drunk and exposing himself to a group of young women.”

Sukuna barked out a laugh, getting a look at the old man that was chained and trembling in front of him, in a deep bow. “Thought you’d show them what you’re working with, eh?” Another chuckle bubbled from his throat, “Castrate him. Next.”

The old man lifted his head in a panic, ”But my King—“ Sukuna waved his hand and the man stopped speaking as his head was cleanly sliced from his neck. 

“Next.” The King of Curses demanded more firmly, watching his body crumble beneath him.

The guards quickly cleaned up the carnage as the next criminal was brought in.

Uraume spoke your name but little made it past the King’s ears as his eyes landed on the delicate creature that was brought in.

A sight for sore eyes, that was for sure.

Sukuna always did wonder why the criminals were rarely women, especially attractive women. It would have made these hearings so much more enjoyable.

He watched the guards force you into a kneel, bending you over and keeping your forehead firmly pressed into the ground.

The corner of Sukuna’s mouth quirked up. 

Curious.

”Step away from her.”

The guards did as commanded and Sukuna watched in rapt attention as you lifted your head and stared your King straight in his eye.

He hummed knowingly.

You wanted to die.

It came as no surprise to Uraume and the more seasoned guards when Sukuna made no move to kill you. His licentious nature was common knowledge, and here was a young, pretty thing being served up on a platter for the King.

Sukuna eyed you, drinking in every last inch and detail of you. 

You stood in a tattered, white nightgown caked and stained in aged blood. Hair unbound and cascading freely, much like the prostitutes he regularly found in the brothels. So delicate and fragile looking but with eyes as fierce and sharp as a blade.

You looked like a kitten with her fangs bared.

”And what has this little one done?”

”She murdered both her mother and father.”

”Hm.”

A silence thickened in the room as Sukuna mulled over his thoughts— so many ways to punish you with a crime like that.

Then there was also your lack of respect which deserved a different sentencing in and of itself.

”What do you think I should do to you, little one?”

He watched amusedly as your jaw ticked. 

“What you would do to any other peasant who committed the same crime.” You spat with such vitriol that the King was forced to admit:

He was impressed.

Grown men have trembled and cried in his presence before. He’s had nobles piss themselves from the fear he struck within their hearts.

”Do you crave death?”

”I have earned it.”

”And what if I were to tell you,” Sukuna shifted in his seat, giving you his complete undivided attention as he leaned forward in interest, “I had a different punishment in mind.”

Ah, there it was.

A slight furrow to your brow, eyes flashing with unease. 

Only for it to disappear.

”Strip her,” he commanded the guards, “I would like to see this beauty unclothed.” 

Your gaze had hardened further, mouth pursing into a little pout as two guards flanked you, hauling you back up to your feet.

Sukuna grinned mockingly at you, reveling in the fact you refused to break his gaze as you stood firmly on your feet all the while the guards stripped you of your nightgown and undergarments. 

The King had been the first one to break, tearing his eyes away from yours in favor of gazing upon your nude figure.

You really were a sight for sore eyes. He eyed your curves, dipped and rounded in all the right places. Particularly liking the plush of your thighs. Nipples stood stiff, pebbled in the cool air, breasts rising and falling with each of your breaths. A patch of hair hid your womanhood from his prying eyes— but no matter, once he had you in his bedchambers every part of you was sure to be bared.

In another life you could have been royalty with looks like those, he was sure. Or perhaps you could have been something else all together. 

You could have been one of those seductresses the fairytales so often warned about, luring both boys and men to their deaths.

But instead you had been born to a lowly peasant family.

Lucky him.

The King of Curses stood up from his throne and closed the distance that separated him from his new object of interest.

He towered over you in both height and width. You had to jut your chin upwards just to look him in the eyes.

He had crossed one pair of arms across his chest while a third hand took a lock of hair between his fingers. 

“Where was she found?” Sukuna asked.

”In her home on the outskirts of the city.”

”The outskirts, hm?” He hummed, gripping your chin and angling your head every which way to get a good look at you. “The poorest of the poor. You must have been a real gem all the way out there. Tell me, little one, how many suitors do you have?”

You didn’t answer.

“More than two?”

“… Yes.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest at your reply.

”Are you a prostitute?”

You sneered at the King, “I would have killed myself before I was that desperate.”

It seemed he had touched a nerve.

”And why is that? You could have turned a pretty coin by working in a brothel. Would have given you buckets of gold if I ever stumbled upon a delicate thing such as yourself.”

“I would rather become a penniless old maid before letting monsters like you touch me,” you spat.

He laughed loudly at your words. “Must have been nice to have a choice, murderess.” He took a step back, “Take her to my chambers,” he commanded, turning back around and making his way to his throne once again. “Let’s finish these hearings quickly. Next.”

—

The pattering of rain existed in the far distance as the King of Curses gazed upon you within the quiet, dimmed room.

You kneeled on his bed, head cast down since he had stepped inside and dismissed the guards. 

Perhaps you regretted not showing him the proper respect earlier.

He did wish you’d look at him now, standing completely bare before you, both of his thick cocks hanging heavy and hard all on display just for you after having shed his robe the moment he saw your naked form once more.

Gooseflesh pimpled along your skin— you must have been freezing in his cold chambers for the few hours you had waited. He bet those lovely perky buds of yours were still stiff and hard as they were earlier, shame he couldn’t tell as you hid your nakedness the best you could behind your hair. 

“You refuse to look upon me now little one?”

You shrunk further in on yourself at the low, gravelly timbre of his voice.

”Why not kill me?” 

“Now why would I do that?” He hummed, reaching a hand out and capturing a lock of hair once more.

”Everyone said you would,” you breathed out, hands fisting against your thighs.

”You should be grateful,” he tugged lightly on your hair, “A beauty like you shouldn’t die so young.”

You sniffled— it made his cocks twitch, listening to your suffering.

”You’re letting me live… because I’m pretty?” 

“Is that not the answer you desired?”

”You would have sentenced anyone else to death. I should be no different— I’ve earned it.”

He sighed, dropping the lock of hair. Your mind seemed to be a whirlwind at the moment, concerning yourself with things he quite frankly didn’t give two shits about.

”Beauty is a currency, little one. And you have overpaid your toll.” He kneeled against the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. His finger slipped beneath your chin, jutting it upwards.

Your eyes locked with his. Watery and vulnerable, lashes clumping together with your tears. It was such a stark difference from earlier that it stole his breath. “Overpaid indeed.”

He sealed his lips against yours, claiming your mouth in a bruising clash of teeth and tongue, pushing you backwards into the plush bedding beneath you.

You whimpered, the sweet little sound being swallowed by the King.

You didn’t fight or struggle against him to which he found both shocking and pleasing, but you didn’t participate either. You simply allowed him to lick into your mouth and nip at your lips.

He pulled away slightly, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his grin as one hand stroked your cheek and another pair maneuvered your legs around his waist.

”Are you a virgin, little one?”

You tore your gaze away from him, features blank, hiding any emotion you had dared to show him just minutes before.

”No.”

”And who did you give it to? One of your many suitors?”

”It was stolen from me. I apologize, my King, but you are hardly the first man to rape me.” You spat bitterly.

He hummed, a soft chuckle of sorts as his long, pointed thumbnail traced beneath your eye. “But I’m sure to be the last.”

You shrieked, losing your composure at the sensation suddenly felt between your legs. You grasped at the bed sheets, looking to Sukuna for an answer.

”Don’t tell me you are unaware of the rumors?” He taunted.

Your eyes widened at the implication as the feeling of a large moistened tongue lapped between your folds, another strangled cry releasing from your lips.

If that one was true, then—

You attempted to look down, but his manhood had been hidden by the ruffled bed sheets. ”Does that mean?”

“All in due time, little one.”

Your head fell back into the soft pillows, softer than any pillow you had laid your head upon, but unable to appreciate it in it’s fullness as the wet muscle nestled between your legs laved over your clit.

You chewed at your bottom lip, attempting to hold back your wanton moans. 

“Tell me,” he hummed, sucking bruises along your unblemished neck, “Why did you do it?”

You didn’t answer—couldn’t- not while his second mouth worked against you as all four of his hands grasped and kneaded any and all exposed flesh they could reach.

It was— dizzying.

”I’ve asked you a question,” he stated firmly, nipping at your neck.

You opened your mouth to provide an answer but an unrestrained moan tumbled free instead as he began to suck on your clit. The sensation stealing the breath from your lungs.

You blinked quickly in an attempt to stifle your tears.

It shouldn’t feel good.

“You don’t want to anger me little one.” He murmured warningly.

”They— mmh, they sold me too— ah- a brothel!” You choked out, before biting into your lip once more, tasting blood on your tongue.

”And you found death preferable to that fate,” he hummed in understanding.

The irony was not lost on either of you.

You were such a delicate little thing beneath him, being dwarfed deliciously by him. Sukuna found it quite the mystery as to how you weren’t eaten up sooner.

He liked how desperately you tried to hold back your cries, and he’d entertain you in that venture for now.

But he would break you by the time he was through with you tonight. He was sure to have you in tears, moaning freely as you took his cocks.

But this little game was entertaining as well.

You began to pant like a bitch in heat as he continued to suck and flick at your clit, a sheen of sweat now layering your skin. Hips twitching against his abdomen, if it wasn’t for the firm hold he had on you he was sure you’d be halfway up the headboard by now.

His gaze travelled down the length of your neck before landing on your breasts. Little buds just as stiff as he remembered.

He dipped a head down, latching onto the pert nipple and sucking on it with a groan against your chest.

He continued his ministrations, not necessarily working you towards an end, pulling back every time you were close to cumming. You didn’t understand why he was drawing this out longer than it had to be.

Your breath hitched at what followed. The wet muscle between your legs licked lower and lower—

“What are you— AH!” Your eyes flew open, entire body going stiff as a board, trying in vain to pull away from his tongue as he licked over your puckered rim. “Why there—!?” You exclaimed, hands releasing the bed sheets as you tried to push him away.

He chuckled lowly, as you yelped once more while he began to press the tip of the muscle inside, past the fluttering hole. He released your nipple with a wet smack, grinning “Gotta get her ready too~” he lilted, taunted, admiring how your face screwed up in panic at the unfamiliar sensation.

He watched as the realization dawned on you and real, tangible fear flooded your features. 

“No, I don’t— I can’t do that-“

”Of course you can, little one.” He stroked your hair, voice dripping in patronization. “You have two precious little holes down there and I have all the time in the world to stretch them open for me.”

You couldn’t hold the tears back this time, letting them paint your face in shiny trails only for Sukuna to lick them up before shoving his tongue back into your mouth.

You trembled beneath him as he spent a cruel amount of time playing with you, stretching you open. Bringing you to the brink of an orgasm and taking it away just as quickly.

This was what madness felt like.

You were sure of it.

You were caught in a daze, time had become nonexistent, trying and failing to hang onto any of your senses. 

But they were all flooded and overwhelmed by him.

You hardly recognized the feeling of a cock stroking through your folds after what felt like hours of only his mouth until the thick tip breached your entrance.

Your glassy eyes found his. 

He groaned softly with a breath as he slowly pushed in an inch of his throbbing cock, captivated by you once more— caught under some sort of spell that any weaker man would have crumbled under. “You have,” he breathed, cupping your jaw and once again stroking his thumbnail beneath your eye, “The most bewitching eyes— how many men have fallen to their demise under your power?” He lowered his face to yours, trailing a nose along your cheek.

”Power?” You sniffled, staring off behind him, “This isn’t power.”

”Hm,” he hummed, pressing another inch into you, listening to the prettiest whimper get caught in your throat. “It’s a power you haven’t learned to use properly. Like a child who has been handed a sword but never taught how to wield. Born in a better situation, you would have figured out how to make men kill for you— a cleverer woman would have never had to kill her parents by her own hand.”

Your face screwed up in discomfort, breath catching as a hand began guiding his second cock into your other hole.

You gnawed on your lip, digging your nails into his arms as you tried to mull over his words. “B-beauty— ngh— is a curse.” You gasped out at the incredibly large and painful stretch both his cocks had inflicted.

His grin widened, teeth poking out, “Exactly.”

In one slow yet fluid motion he pushed into your cunt and ass.

Your back arched, body going stiff once more as you clung to him for stability. Your breath caught in your throat struggling to breathe through this inconceivable sensation. 

You had never been so full, stretched so wide you were convinced he’d tear you in two if he began fucking you— he was too big, too much.

You trembled like a leaf beneath his much larger and opposing frame, a fresh wave of tears pricking, stinging at your eyes.

It hurt.

You tilted your head, nose bumping against his own. Your eyes, the eyes he seemed to be going mad over, searched his desperately. ”My King— please, I can’t. Please show me mercy.”

A chuckle bubbled up in his throat as he grinned amusedly as you. His lower pair of arms grasped you by the back of your thighs and pushed them upwards, pressing them into your tits.

You were nothing more than a rag doll to him and the idea that he thought you possessed any sort of power tasted bitter on the back of your tongue.

”And why…” He began, sitting back up, now staring at where is two cocks disappeared into your tight holes with a rumble of delight deep within his chest, “…would I do that, murderess?”

He provided little warning before reeling his hips back and pushing back in with a forceful thrust that had any sort of control you had over your own vocal cords disappear as you cried on his cocks.

It was only fitting, you supposed, that the punishment for your crime was to have the King of Curses himself fuck you into unconsciousness.

You’ve heard stories of his concubines while growing up. He has had countless of them but none lasting more than a year before he was ultimately finished with them, slicing them up after cumming in them for the last time.

You would not allow yourself to succumb to the same fate.

The wet slaps of skin smacking against skin mixed with his grunts and your uncontrollable yelps made you want to curl up, the repetitive filthy sounds making you sick.

Why couldn’t he have just killed you.

”I think you might just be the tightest and prettiest little thing I’ve ever stuck my cocks into,” he growled, driving his hips harder against yours, forcing a broken sob free from your lips, body jolting upwards with each of his thrusts, “A goddess for my own pleasure.”

”G-goddesses are— hngh— worshipped!” You choked out.

”Is this not worshipping?” He grunted, pressing your thighs further into your chest, leaning his weight into you and speeding up his thrusts. “I believe if you saw how I treated my concubines, you’d think this was the highest form of worship.” 

You didn’t know what to say, not that you even could as he forced out higher and higher pitched whimpers and cries from your lips.

”How did you kill them, little one? C’mon, hah— tell me,” he growled, suddenly lifting your legs and putting you into a mating press— mounting you like a beast.

”I— hm!” You choked as one of his hands winded between your legs and played with your clit, rolling it beneath the pad of his thumb. His face was close to yours once more, sharp gaze searching your tearful one. “We— ah— w-we had an ax!” 

The King quirked an eyebrow in interest, the idea of you lifting and swinging an ax hard enough to kill your own parents amused him. You would have had to hit them more than once, no doubt.

He found the image of you standing above your parents, holding an ax, covered in their blood startlingly arousing.

Perhaps he’d hunt down the men that had raped you in the past and watch you kill them yourself before he fucked you… or perhaps he’d make them watch him fuck you first before having you kill them. 

His mind reeled with the possibilities.

“A goddess indeed.”

He continued his brutal thrusts into you, the stretch still feeling wildly unnatural even as some of the pain subsided. 

You were close.

And you hated it.

You screwed your eyes shut as both holes fluttered and clenched around his cocks, only forcing Sukuna to grow rougher with you, which in turn drove you closer to your end.

And this time he didn’t pull your orgasm away from you as he did when he used his tongue, instead he found you teetering along the edge of oblivion and pushed you off without hesitation.

The air was knocked out of you, causing your back to arch almost inhumanly so as your vision went stark white. Your cunt clenched around him like a vice, barely registering the wet splashes that escaped you and hit your skin.

He fucked you like an animal during your seemingly endless fall. He groaned out curses and praises about your cunt, repeating over and over again how the gods he hadn’t believed in sent him a goddess to play with— to worship in his own sick way.

His own orgasm hit him harder than any jujutsu technique ever had.

You were better than any of his concubines— milking him like he had never cum before, strings of white painting your womb and he had even entertained the thought of his very own brat growing within you, knocking up a goddess.

Your power was unmatched.

He had crushed you beneath his weight after his orgasm subsided, never having felt so weak in his life. 

The idea was unthinkable— The King of Curses weak.

”What are you, little one?” He whispered breathlessly against your neck.

His tone had taken you aback even within the hazy daze your mind was caught up in, he sounded so reverent. 

“‘M nothing b-but a peasant… with a pretty face,” you panted.

”Hm,” he hummed, breathing against your neck. “If I find you were sent to distract me… I will cut you down without hesitation.”

Your breath had caught in your throat. “You’ll only be giving me what I want.”

”A goddess who is a murderess… and craves death herself,” he dragged his nose along your neck, moving upwards until his lips caressed your ear, “Perhaps you are even fit to be my Queen.”

You stared at the canopy above you, absorbing his words. What you had said next had only earned you a patronizing chuckle and a kiss to your neck.

”Perhaps I’ll just kill myself then.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Practice II

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You practice with your mums

You are a keeper.

You've been a keeper since you were a child. You were always going to be a keeper, deep down. One day, you are going to be the greatest keeper in the world. One day, you might even be the greatest keeper in history.

But right now, you are not.

You are just a girl in her backyard with inflatable people blocking your view of Pernille and her wicked shot.

She chips it over your line and you jump up to meet it.

Pernille and Magda aren't keepers. They have never been keepers. They will never be keepers.

But they're trying, for you.

They're trying to think like keepers.

"Do you think you organised them right?" Magda asks from the side," Your defenders?"

Today has been tactical training.

You'd seen keepers organising their lines at games before. You'd seen keepers throughout your childhood yell out orders before.

You'd never really been a yeller though. You weren't confrontational. You weren't loud. You weren't a leader.

"Well...I got the ball?"

Magda nods. "Okay. Let's run it again."

Pernille goes to take her kick again but squares the ball to Magda waiting in your empty middle. She shots in one touch and you scramble from where you thought the ball was coming from to get a brief glove on it.

Her shot is hard and fast but you manage to just graze it with your hand and roll it to the side.

"And now you've conceded a corner," Pernille says.

"Well," You pant, still laying on the ground," I couldn't exactly grab it."

"You need to trust your wall and be ready for the shot to come from elsewhere. Nine times out of ten, they'll send in a cross rather than a shot," Pernille continues," You need to be ready."

You're pretty sure your shoulder is bruised from the amount of times you've had to go to the ground with a ball.

Pernille used to pull back the power of her shots when you had a kick around but now she doesn't. All gloves are off and a few times you've felt a little winded after gathering one of her strikes.

But you wanted this so you're going to take advantage and repeat it again and again until you think you're ready.

Magda has been helping you with your tactics and it's with her that you find yourself now, staring out as Pernille waits to take a penalty.

"Half of it is guesswork," Magda says into your ear, standing behind you so you can both stare at your Momma," But when you're in a team, there'll have been analysis and things but right now, I want you to study the way she's moving. I want you to look at her run up and the way she's positioned herself. Some of it's subconscious. She doesn't even notice it but you have to."

You nod.

Pernille takes her penalty.

You go the right way and save it.

"Good," Magda says," But make sure you wait as long as possible. She's studying you like you're studying her. If you give an indication of what way you're going then they'll go the opposite direction.

You groan. "And everyone does this?"

"Not everyone," Pernille laughs," Only the good players."

You huff, pushing off the ground. "Alright. Let's go again."

You're hot and sweaty when practice for the day is finally over and fall face first onto the sofa.

"Hey." Magda swats you with a tea towel. "Shower, please. I don't need that sweat all over my new cushions."

"Leave me here to die," You reply, remaining where you are.

Magda's hands are on you, trying to roll you off but you go rigid in an effort to delay her. You lock up all your muscles and go stiff as a board and Magda has to bite back her own laughter at how stubborn you're being all of a sudden.

"Come on!" She says," Off! Get off!"

"No," You reply with a small laugh," If I move I'll get cramp."

"You'll got cramp because you've gone all stiff. Go and shower!" She tries to rock your body around but you refuse to even give her an inch to work with.

"No!"

Finally, she rolls you off and you flop onto your back on the carpet.

"I'm telling Momma!" You're up like a shot, running up the stairs.

Magda laughs after you. "I thought that if you moved, you'd get cramp!"

[vague-magnus-archives]

This is like… the Flesh, but silly- “They’re Made Out Of Meat” by Terry Bisson. He was an author who wrote a lot of really cool stuff and just died recently- while I can’t currently find the link to the original story, here’s the version I copied to tumblr-

"They're made out of meat."

"Meat?"

"Meat. They're made out of meat."

"Meat?"

"There's no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They're completely meat."

  "That's impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars?"

"They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don't come from them. The signals come from machines."

"So who made the machines? That's who we want to contact."

"They made the machines. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Meat made the machines."

  "That's ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You're asking me to believe in sentient meat."

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in that sector and they're made out of meat." "Maybe they're like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage."

"Nope. They're born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn't take long. Do you have any idea what's the life span of meat?"

"Spare me. Okay, maybe they're only part meat. You know, like the weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside."

"Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They're meat all the way through."

"No brain?"

"Oh, there's a brain all right. It's just that the brain is made out of meat! That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"So ... what does the thinking?"

"You're not understanding, are you? You're refusing to deal with what I'm telling you.  The brain does the thinking. The meat."

"Thinking meat! You're asking me to believe in thinking meat!"

"Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat.   The meat is the whole deal! Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?"

"Omigod. You're serious then. They're made out of meat."

"Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And they've been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years."

"Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?"

"First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The usual."

"We're supposed to talk to meat."

"That's the idea. That's the message they're sending out by radio. 'Hello.  Anyone out there. Anybody home.' That sort of thing."

"They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?" "Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat."

"I thought you just told me they used radio."

"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other.   They can even sing by squirting air through their meat."

"Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?"

"Officially or unofficially?"

"Both."

"Officially, we are required to contact, welcome and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe, without prejudice, fear or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing."

"I was hoping you would say that."

"It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?"

"I agree one hundred percent. What's there to say? 'Hello, meat.   How's it going?' But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?"

"Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can't live on them. And being meat, they can only travel through C space.  Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact."

"So we just pretend there's no one home in the Universe."

"That's it."  

"Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You're sure they won't remember?"

"They'll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we're just a dream to them."

"A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat's dream."

"And we marked the entire sector unoccupied."

"Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?"

"Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again."

"They always come around."

"And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone ..."

[pippin-katz]

You know, everyone says that Edwin is a brat, but I have to disagree. Edwin is a bitch, 100% but he's not a brat. You know who is a brat?

CHARLES.

Think about this for a second!

Charles tells the little girl that Edwin’s thing is to “play hard ball” as he’s about to do it, being cheeky and giving away the game. They save Crystal, find out she has some sort of amnesia, and he immediately says she can stay at their office without asking Edwin if it’s okay. And Edwin doesn’t even argue! He’s like, "okay, we don’t usually do that, what the hell, but guess this is a thing right now”.

They bring her back to their office, and he tries to explain that this it’s a bad idea, but notably tries to whisper so as not to wake her up. Even though Edwin doesn't like her and doesn't want her there, he's considerate. Edwin’s entire routine and safe space has been upended by this living girl, so he’s understandably stressed and in a bad mood, but Charles is like, “you’re being bitchy, so I’m gonna go out with Crystal”. They get back and Edwin’s still upset, and then Charles is like, “btw she’s gonna stay” without asking Edwin AGAIN! And AGAIN he doesn’t argue! He immediately asks how long she’s staying for!

Then Crystal reads Becky’s poster and Charles wants to go overseas for a living client, which is all new and Edwin even says that it’s all happening too fast, and they STILL GO! Charles throws Edwin's own worries about Death back at him despite brushing him off earlier, and pulls the guilt trip card of letting Becky die, in front of Crystal, and fucking smiles because he knows he’s won.

And Edwin? He just fucking sighs.

And then once they’re in Port Townsend, Charles sides with Crystal at every turn. He tells Crystal they can find a different way to get the information when the entire point of bringing her was for her powers. He calls Edwin a show-off when he mirror hops, and says it not as an insult, but also without his usual fondness. He says himself that possessing the living "sets off all sorts of alarm bells in the Afterlife", proceeds to do it anyway, then brushes off Edwin’s worries of the consequences. When Crystal yells at them about being scared, he puts her feelings above Edwin’s, who has already been pushed completely out of his comfort zone, and is taking an extra personal risk getting involved with a demon considering he’s on the run from Hell. Even when Crystal’s revealed to have lied about David, and Edwin’s having a complete breakdown, Charles still brings it back around to Crystal.

And this is all just the FIRST EPISODE!!

They are both totally devoted to each other, unquestioningly, but Charles has Edwin literally wrapped around his finger. There's nothing he could ask him to do that he would refuse. He might bitch about it or resist it initially, but he always does what Charles wants in the end.

And Charles seems oblivious and all too aware at the same time. I don't think he has a grasp of how much Edwin would do or how far Edwin would go for him. But he smiles at him and knows he'll cave, and he uses that.

If one of them is a brat, it's fucking Charles.

(ko-fi)