#i just wanted to check out some songs but i wound up watching the whole thing in three minute clips on youtube… whoops..

[skywitchmaja]

over the course of this beauty and the beast/disney music hyperfixation many [youtubers] have talked about the evil tim curry pipe organ and the french bernadette peters tree topper angel, but nobody prepared me for jeff bennett aka johnny bravo aka kowalaki, the tall penguin of madagascar, voicing an axe with the hammiest yiddish accent i have ever heard.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Fifteen

Steve’s left bloody smears on the tiles, but the bleeding does seem to have turned a little more sluggish; he’s too frightened now to pull his sock away, he’s pretty sure it’s stuck to the wounds where the blood has started to crust over.

From the floor, Steve manages to reach up for the phone, it rings nearly a dozen times, but Steve persists. He knows Hopper will assume it’s an emergency.

Steve hates doing this, but he definitely can’t drive. Just the thought of making it to the car on his own makes him cringe, and the dull, thudding pain is radiating out to the rest of his foot.

“Hopper.”

“Hop. Sorry. I think I need some help.”

“On my way.”

The doctor frowns at Steve spectacularly, “a raccoon?”

“I know, wild right?”

“So that means he definitely needs a tetanus,” Hopper says unhelpfully from where he’s perched on the other side of the treatment room. He’s got a coffee in a Styrofoam cup and an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Steve hisses as the doctor uses some saline to loosen the sock, peeling it away from the wound, “I’ll give you something to numb the area, and then it will need some stitches. An x-ray might-”

“Nah,” Steve interjects, “stitch me up, I need to get home.”

The doctor has that look on her face again. From the other side of the room, Hopper sighs, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Steve can hear El and Eddie from where he’s standing in the kitchen. El’s been teaching him stuff again; today she’s taught him the ABC song. They rush through when they get to the ‘LMNOP’ part, making Steve smile.

“Okay Steve, we’re ready!” El shouts for him from the next room, and Steve goes in.

The furniture's been moved out of the way, Eddie lying on his back in the middle of the room. He’s laying on a white sheet, the long point of his tale stark black against the material. Next to his hip, there’s a pair of legs. They stand perfectly fine on their own, disembodied, rounds of flat pale skin on top, where they end at the thighs.

Eddie looks over smiling, “oh good, you’ve brought it.”

Steve looks down. In his hand he’s holding a saw.

Steve wakes, flailing. He’s gasping for air, trying to orientate himself. Panicking.

He’s sitting. It takes him a few confused seconds, but it all comes flooding back. Fuck, his neck hurts, and his back.

Just a dream he thinks on repeat to himself. Just a dream just a dream just a dream.

His foot. His foot is still up on the coffee table, “Steve, come on, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“What,” he manages to croak out.

“Here, drink this,” Robin hands him a half glass of tepid water, Steve downs it, “you had a nightmare.”

There’s a towel and a bag of peas draped over Steve’s ankle; trying to cool the area. Keep the swelling down, or whatever. The peas are melted now, the bag sagging in either direction with the weight of the mush inside.

The sight of it makes a sob catch in Steve’s chest, it comes out in a huge shudder, and Steve’s only vaguely worried he’ll never be able to walk the frozen isle in the store again. That he will cry spontaneously every time someone offers him a pear.

“When did you get here?”

“Mom dropped me off, Hopper wanted someone to watch you. He’s going to go check on El.”

Steve’s head feels muzzy. Too much has happened. They didn’t get home until the early hours, and Steve’s blinking in the full light of day that’s streaming into the lounge. “Where is he now?”

“Back yard.”

That takes a second to process, “no.”

Steve pulls his foot down, wobbling as he stands, leaving the towel and peas abandoned, “Steve, hang on.”

The dressing and stitches feel like they’re pulling as Steve takes a few tentative steps, the whole end of his foot feels like it’s burning, Steve moves until he can see Hopper; he can see him from the back, he’s smoking and looking down into the pool.

“Robs, get him away from there, please. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” she says, holding her hands out like she’s dealing with a skittish animal, she goes to the door, opening it and calling, “Hopper, he’s up!”

Hopper comes back in, dropping the end of his cigarette and stamping it out with his boot on his way in, “kid, are you sure he went into the pool?”

The implication of Hopper's question has Steve’s moving before he can really think about it, Robin calling after him that he’s got nothing on his feet, that it’s cold out. Steve ignores her. He has to walk funny, keeping all his weight on his heel on the left foot, but he makes it work. He sees why Hoppers asking; the water of the pool is opaque white.

It looks like the whole thing is filled with milk.

Hopper leaves to go and check on El. Steve’s glad, he did cause Hopper to have to leave her in the middle of the night, and that’s not fair on El, she might be worried.

Steve’s had maybe a couple of hours sleep on the couch, passing out when they got back from hospital. “You don’t have to do that,” he tells Robin; she’s scrubbing at the bloody smears Steve’s left on the kitchen tile.

“It’s fine, and it’s not like you’re in any condition to do it. What the fuck Steve, Hopper said he bit off two toes??”

Steve looks down at where the dressing’s covering his foot, “yeah.” Robin sits back on her haunches, bloody rag in hand, glaring. “He said that...if he eats Demogorgon, then that’s what he becomes. And if he eats Demodog, he becomes one of those so…”

“So you let him eat some of you instead? Because that’s the sane response-”

“I love him, Robs.”

She sighs, “I figured.”

Robin spends most of the day. She talks him into eating some toast; he balks at the thought of soup. Steve takes his pain killers and his antibiotics under Robins close supervision. They have the TV on, and Steve sleeps more.

She tells him to come away when he spends too much time staring out of the window.

Robin has to go that evening; she only does because Steve swears on everything she can think of that he will be fine. He will eat some eggs. He will take his pills. He’s not a complete invalid.

Robin leaves him after what is probably a ten minute hug, and a promise that she will sell Keith on Steve’s 'family emergency.'

The eggs are sitting heavy in Steve’s stomach when he hobbles outside. He managed to get a sock on over his dressing, but couldn’t bare the thought of anything else pressing on his wound, so he goes out like that. Just in socks.

He has a coat on at least, and takes the blanket, knocking snow off a pool lounger and moving it to the edge of the pool so he can sit with his feet up, wrapped in the blanket. The water still hasn’t frozen; but it is darker than it was. It’s turned a sort of pale mucky brown, like someone's mixed some dirt in.

Or chocolate milk.

Steve sits, and he waits, and he cries quietly.

Eventually the cold gets too much, and he heads back inside to try and sleep on the couch.

Steve stares blankly at the unlit Christmas tree, and considers dragging the thing outside and setting fucking fire to it.

He hasn’t cried since he woke up, which is a new current record, and he doesn’t understand where the anger has come from...but he thinks he might prefer it. It’s not fair. Nothing about this is fair, and it fills Steve with a rage he doesn’t think he’s ever experienced before.

Hopper sits opposite Steve, leaning forward, his hands dangling loose between his knees, and Steve knows that this is Hoppers ‘I’m trying to be kind, or sympathetic, or understanding face,’ Steve also knows he’s not going to like whatever is about to come out of Hopper's mouth and he’s already angry about it.

“Kid, I really think we should drain the pool.”

“No.”

Hopper takes a deep breath, “son,” and that one word fills Steve with a rage so complete he feels utterly still. Utterly calm. He’s completely empty, in that moment, except for the rage, “if we don’t, his body will rot into the water, and if you want to be able to bury him? Then-”

“Out.”

“-what?”

“Out,” Steve stands, and he speaks calmly and levelly, “get out of my house. Right now.”

Hopper doesn’t stand, he spreads his hands in a non threatening gesture, “El says she’s can’t feel him, kid, he’s gone-”

“Get the fuck out of my house!” Steve screams at him, suddenly full to brimming, his hears his pounding, breaths sharp, “I said get out!”

Hopper sighs. He looks at Steve with...pity on his face, but he gets up, and he leaves.

The water is so dark now it looks nearly black. Murky and shitty. There are black, choking vines growing up the inside of the tiles; clinging to the sides of the pool. Some of them are long enough to creep up over the edge, like The Upside Down is bleeding into Hawkins again. Steve is reminded viscerally of Barb Holland, and he hates it.

The phone is ringing. Steve ignores it until it stops.

It makes him itchy, ignoring the phone. It’s too ingrained in him that something could be wrong. It’s an emergency. The kids might need him.

It starts ringing again; Steve answers it this time, but only as a preventative measure. If he doesn’t answer it, whoever it is might show up, and Steve would really rather not right now.

“Hey, Steve.” Robs is uncharacteristically quiet. Reserved. “So...it’s Christmas tomorrow and, I know you said you didn’t want to come for the day but...what about in the evening? Just for a little bit?” She asks, hopefully. “Mom says we can save you some leftovers, you know.”

“Yeah...yeah, that’s really kind and everything Rob...” Steve trails off scrubbing at his face. He’s got a fair bit of stubble going on, and he only showered this morning because even he could pick up on the fact that he stank.

She sighs quietly, “have you been eating? Taking your meds?”

“I...yeah. Some. And finished the antibiotics.”

“Good. That’s good. You want me to come over then?”

“Uhm. No. No that’s fine you, you should have a nice Christmas with your family, okay? We can talk after.”

“Steve…”

“I know, Robs, I know, but I’ll be fine,” Steve tells her with a confidence he doesn’t feel.

“Okay, well, I’ll call tomorrow. Love you, Dingus.”

“Love you too Birdie.”

There are thick black vines growing up the legs of Steve’s pool chair; he ignores them. He climbs into position, wrapping himself in his blanket. He has a beer, his pills are finished now, so he can’t see the harm.

“I had a shower Eds, sure you’re pleased to hear that. Took the dressing off my foot, and it looks fine, you didn’t hurt me, not really.” Steve tacks on, “not ow,” out of habit.

Steve sips his beer, pulling the blanket tighter around his legs, and not thinking about Eddie's tail doing the same, “I’m supposed to have an appointment to get the stitches out, but it’s not until like the twenty seventh, or something, you know, everything being shut for Christmas. Which is tomorrow, by the way.”

Steve sighs, “anyway, I probably won’t go, it really doesn’t look so bad now, I think I could get them out with nail scissors and some tweezers, so I might just do that.”

Steve sips his beer, watching the laden pale clouds scud along overhead, “I think it might snow again, that’d be nice, right? White Christmas and all that stuff.”

Steve sighs again, and quietly admits, “I think you would have really liked Christmas. You get like, gifts and stuff-”

There’s a frantic splash in the pool, Steve’s up as quick as he can, fighting with his blanket, his beer bottle falling, forgotten, and rolling away on the tiles, getting caught on a vine.

Steve’s flooded with adrenaline, heart beating so fast, he doesn't register the chill as he scrambles up, stepping to the edge of the pool.

Eddie’s on the steps, he’s covered in so much slime and shit from the pool it's hard to see him, but Steve doesn’t care how dirty it is, he’s knee deep and helping to haul Eddie out the rest of the way.

He has no hair; but he does have legs, and he takes a stumbled step with Steve before collapsing to the ground. He can’t breathe, he’s bent over, on his hands and knees, choking. Steve’s lifeguard first aid training kicks in before he can really think about it; fueled by adrenaline, he braces Eddie with an arm about his middle, then using the palm of his hand he delivers one hard upward blow between Eddie’s shoulder blades.

Eddie splutters, but there’s nothing, so Steve does it again. Suddenly, like a seal has been broken, Eddie coughs up what might be nearly a pint of fluid, yellow and green and streaked with pink blood, it splatters loudly on the ground.

Eddie drags in a huge breath; it might be the most beautiful sound Steve’s ever heard.

They collapse down again, Eddie shivering like crazy, his teeth chattering; Steve grabs his blanket, covering Eddie. He’s naked and covered in gross shit, completely hairless, and has long gangly legs. Steve doesn’t pay attention to any of it really. Just Eddie. Eddie’s here.

He smells fucking awful, but Steve doesn’t care, Steve bundles him up and pulls him close, “Eddie, are you okay?”

Eddie blinks, his eyes crusted with gack from the pool, pink and puffy and sore looking around the lids, the whites bloodshot to fuck, his voice a raspy mess, the words broken by how violently his teeth are chattering, “Eddidie good bad.”

Steve bursts into tears.

Part Seventeen

[gabbytbll]

˙⋆✮𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍'𝐒✮⋆˙ + 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄'𝐒

FLUFF〰

word count: 882

masters list 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭

Authors note: i have been obsessed with this man recently so what else to do except make something for this fine man eheh. But i don't feel like this should be NSFW as I'm not in the mood for that but i hope u still like it!! im going to open requests soon on Sunday! don't worry to the people who requested Ima bang them out since i feel bad i left y'all for so long even tho i was having internet problems!!

─────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────

Note: Master list has been updated with people from demon slayer! Next update ill add Jujutsu Kaisen!

i was listening to this song while making it and i thought it fit!

no warning's♡

• Giyuu is very quiet so i feel like he would randomly hug you from behind or randomly show up to where you are just to check on you or just to listen to you talk because we all know he's a listener.

• Giyuu loves to give you your favorite food whenever he's free he likes to say it brings the both of you closer than ever!

• He is the type of guy that is protective of you so he keeps watch on you at all times because he's worried you will get hurt like Sabito did, he hates for you to get hurt he thinks it is his responsibility when ever you need medical

• I feel like he might try to learn how to heal wounds and medical from Shinobu to help you whenever you or him is hurt, It definitely took him a while to understand everything Shinobu tells him

「∘˙○˚.•」 Giyuu pointed at a light-colored vial filled with a slimy texture. "But what does this do?" Giyuu said is a small whisper. Shinobu's right eyebrow twitches as she quietly let out a puff of air in anger. As she turns to look to her left at Giyuu. "Tomioka-San i already told you what that did, do you not listen Tomioka-San?" Shinobu said with a tiny smile while poking his arm with her finger. Giyuu look's down slightly with an unreadable expression. "Im sorry Shinobu" Giyuu said. She lets out a hum as she turns back to point at the colored vial with an unreadable expression. " You put this on the wound's before you wrap it with gauze, so it can heal faster!" Shinobu said with a serious expression. Shinobu looks back at Giyuu and poked him lightly. "Now Tomioka-San don't put too much on the wound or the gauze will not hold up right like it's supposed to!" Shinobu said with a serious expression. Giyuu nodded with a determined expression

• After He learns about how take help you when your hurt He would help you with all your wounds even your small cut's it doesn't matter to him, He just loves taking care of you

• He would love to do missions with you if you're a Hashira, i like to think he doesn't like to do missions alone but since the other Hashira's don't really like him, he has to bear with it but ever since you been joining him on mission's i feel like he would be much happier

• Some time's he loves to take you out to eat to spend more time with you and to talk about some things while the both of you were away to catch up

• I feel like he would randomly buy you clothes that he likes would look nice on you even tho u might not wear it, he is even ok if you just hang it up somewhere!

「∘˙○˚.•」 Giyuu was walking towards your home with an almost unnoticeable smile. He also had some bad? in his hands. He saw you look out your window to see him coming towards you. He felt his heart skip a beat. Your smile.. Your beautiful smile. Your smile lights up his whole day. He walks fast towards you in a hurry to reach you. As soon as he reached your door you open it before he could knock. "Giyuuu-sannn! how have you been? i hope you been really good! I was making some food do you want some?" You said in a hurry with a big smile. You opened the door more so he could come in and sit down with you. "Do You need anything Giyuu? i have some tea!" You said as you were walking thru the house to the kitchen. Giyuu started to follow you after he closed you door shut. "Um can i have some tea please?" Giyuu said while putting down the bag gently on the table. You turn to look at him after you got his tea ready. "Hey what's that? did you get me something?" You said with an excited tone of voice. Giyuu softly smiled and nodded his head yes. Your eyes light up in excitement as you hurried to look in the bag. You took out a (f/c) kimono that is perfectly your size. "WOWW! this is so pretty Giyuu-san! where did you find this?" You said while jumping up and down in excitement while hugging the kimono. Giyuu let out a small chuckle at your reaction.

• He sometime crashes at your place because its closer from his mission when he's done then his own, plus he would rather sleep at your place anyways

• He would randomly come in your house and scare you on accident because he's so quite sometimes you won't even know he was there until you find simmered salmon with daikon randomly on your kitchen table

• He loves to leave random things in your house if u don't find him by the time he leaves you to go do a mission or check on something

• He loves to leave you flower's next to your bed whenever you're feeling down or not feeling well, he also loves to make you soup and food that will help you get over your sickness

「∘˙○˚.•」 You let out a puff of air out of your nose out of frustration. You just came back from a mission, and you were dead tired. What sucks is you haven't got to see your friends yet today either. As you finally get close to your home, all you were thinking about is to get a shower and go to sleep. You walk thru your door after you open it, all you can smell is food? was someone is your house?. You let out a small hum in confusion at the smell. You carefully walk around the house to check if someone was in your house just to make sure there was no intruder's. You finally react the kitchen to see Giyuu asleep on the table with his head down with salmon and daikon next to his head half ate. You shake your head while chuckling accidentally waking up Giyuu in the process. As Giyuu lifts his head up alerted at your chuckle. He sees you standing near him with a tired smile after finding him asleep on your table. "Oh sorry (Y/n) i feel asleep and your house was closer than mine" Giyuu said softly in a tired tone. You let out a small hum before you talk "It's ok Giyuu-san your always welcomed in here" You said while moving his food to put away knowing he was about to go to sleep again. "Giyuu-san do you want to come to my bedroom and sleep? or do you want to go to sleep in the living room?" You said while looking at him. He sat there thinking for a second. Giyuu gives a small nod and say's "I'll come sleep in the bedroom with you". You nod at him with a smile. You wave for him to follow you as you start to walk towards your bedroom to go to sleep. As the both of you reach the bedroom you go in first to show him where to sleep. "Here you sleep here while i go and get a shower" You said while making his bed quickly hoping he will be comfortable in it. "Ok than you (Y/n) i hope you don't mind me sleeping in here" Giyuu said is a tired whisper. Giyuu moves to finally lay down and get comfortable while waiting for your answer. You let out a small laugh at his question. "Oh Giyuu-san your always welcomed in my house please do get comfortable I'm going to go get a shower" You said in a soft voice while getting up to move. Giyuu lets out a small hum as he was half asleep. "Sleep well Giyuu-san" You said as you bend over to kiss his forehead.

Welp i hope you like it i worked hard and there will be mistakes! make sure you like and reblog to support me thank you for reading!!⛱

©️ gabbytbll. do not copy, repost, or translate across other sites. do not copy my sentence structures, plot or characterization.

[strniohoeee]

Poignant Pt. 2

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: After not seeing Matt for 4 months he finally reaches out, and wants to talk to Y/N…..he expresses certain feelings, but will Y/N feel the same?🫀

Warnings⚠️: None just cute or whatever I guess angst? This one’s short but still hope you enjoy it🫶🏽

Song for imagine: It Will Rain- Bruno Mars

Read Poignant Pt. 1 here

And pick up these broken pieces

Til I’m bleeding

If that’ll make you mine

Matt Stromboli🤭

-How about in this lifetime?🪻

I smiled down at his text, and went to answer him.

-Hey Matt

-Hey Y/N. How you been?

-I’ve been good. Just been working on myself for these past few months

-I’ve been thinking about you, do you think about me still?

-Of course I do Matt….

-We should see each other again

-I don’t know…that might open some wounds

-Wounds?

-Yeah, I’m not sure I’m ready to see you again

-Why not?

-I’m scared

-lmao scared of what??

-scared that when I see you my feelings will still be there

-that’s not a scary thing

-yeah it is….especially if the feelings aren’t mutual

-but what if they are?

-you don’t know that Matt. You might think you like me, but that’s not always the case

-Come see me please?

-where? And what time?

-tonight, the burger spot on the pier…6:30??

-yeah sure I’ll be there, see ya Matt

-see you later

Later on that day I had gotten ready to see Matt. I wasn’t sure how to feel. I felt like I still had feelings, but I also felt like I just missed him as a whole, as my friend. I wasn’t sure how seeing his face was going to affect me.

I had Ubered to the pier, and I got there at about 6:25, so I walked to the restaurant. My nerves making me nauseous and anxious.

I got to the restaurant, and told them I was meeting someone so I walked until I spotted Matt. My stomach instantly churning. I walked to the booth and sat down

“Hi” I said looking at him

“Hey Y/N” he said smiling at me, that goddamn smile

“It’s been so long,” I said looking at his face. How can someone change so much in four months

“It has. You look great” he said looking at me

“Thank you. You look great too” I said smiling at him

“Thank you..nothings change” he said laughing a little bit

“You just look so different” I said looking at him

“Could be the hair, or the tattoos” he said looking down at his hair

“Yeah it could be” I said nodding at him

We had gotten dinner and barely spoke…this weird tension always in between us….I just didn’t know how to feel at all. Did I like him or did I not?

We walked on the pier and sat down watching the sunset

“I um I’m not sure what to say” Matt said quietly

“I mean you don’t have to say anything” I told him

“No I do. I just don’t like how that day went” he said looking out to the waves

“It’s okay Matt. We’ve grown from it, and I’m okay. It was needed” I said looking over at him

“I just…man I don’t know. As soon as you left I felt this pain in my chest” he said blinking

“Well I left all you guys” I said looking at the water too

“I feel like I made the wrong decision” he said

“I don’t think you did. I think some part of you feels bad for rejecting me, and you’re making yourself like me, but I just think you miss your friend” I said to him

“Do you still like me?” He asked still not looking at me

“I’m not sure Matt. I came here wondering how I’d feel and if all those feelings would come back, but I uh I feel at peace” I said still looking at the waves

“I really like you” he blurted out

“I don’t think you do. You like the idea of me, but you don’t actually like me” I told him

“Stop hurting yourself by denying it. I fucking like you” he said shaking his head

“Matt, we haven't seen each other for four months. How can you just now say you like me” I said defeated

“Because I've always liked you, and I was so dumb to see that….it has always been you” he said

“Matt….” I said looking over at him

“It really has, and I’m such an idiot for taking so long to realize. I checked everyday if you’d be active on social media, if you’d comment on anything, my finger hovered over your contact. I so badly wanted to call you everyday, but I just couldn’t” he said shaking his head

“I’m glad you didn’t call.” I said to him

“What?” He said looking at me

“I feel like if you called me you would’ve kept me on this string of false hope. I needed to be away from you” I told him truthfully

“I was so stupid” he said

“It’s okay.” I said to him

“I want you, and only you” he said looking at me

“Don’t say things you don’t mean” I said looking at him

“I mean it okay! Stop pushing me away” he said getting a little upset

“I don’t want to get hurt again” I said looking down

“I would never do that to you….again” he said

“I don’t know” I said shaking my head

“Please Y/N” he said pleading

“Matt I don’t know that I see myself with you” I told him

“Kiss me, and tell me you don’t feel the same” he said

I looked up at him, looking into his eyes searching for an answer, but I didn’t find one.

I reluctantly leaned in and connected our lips. It was a kiss that made the whole world stop, it made all my problems float away….Its Matt it’s always been him, and I never wanted to pull away. With him I felt safe and loved

We pulled away, and looked at each other

“Tell me you don’t feel the same, and I will walk out of your life for good, and never bother you again” he said looking into my eyes

“Matt it’s you….it will always be you” I said smiling before pulling him in again, crashing our lips together

Kissing Matt felt like stepping outside into an empty field on a warm evening while watching a beautiful sunset overhead. This kid was my sunset….hes mine, he’s my safety net

“I’m never leaving you” he said rubbing my cheek

“I’d hope not” I said leaning into his touch

“Come home with me” he said

“Of course Matt” I whispered before we got up, and headed out to Matt’s car. Getting in and heading to the triplets house.

I guess Matt’s mine in this lifetime, and in another🪻

The End

I want to write another sad imagine, but nothing pertaining to death of the triplets….Im thinking like an actual….yk what let me not explain my ideas I wanna make yall cry ��🏽🤭 anywhooo hope you liked this one💋

-J💅🏽

[crazystargirl]

overheated ☆

pairing ☆ - ethan landry x reader

word count ☆ - 0.7k !

a/n ☆ - my sister chose the song for this one and it took forever to come up with an idea for it but finally figured it out, plz send ideas for the songs tho bc i literally have no clue what i'm doing more than half the time 💀

"i don't really know why you went there"

your roommate, anika, had dragged you to some lame frat party since her friends were going and she saw you moping around in the dorm

you were only really close to her and ethan who was in your econ class

you made a beeline towards ethan after a bit since anika left you to go hang out with her girlfriend which you didn't mind since you didn't expect her to stay with you the whole time

you see ethan standing with chad who was probably trying to get ethan to go and date someone

"hey ethan!" you say, coming over to the boys

ethan sees you stumble and a bit and holds onto your waist to make sure you don't fall over

"hey y/n" chad looks at ethan with a shocked expression since he knew ethan wasn't the type to just touch a girl randomly

after a while, chad had ran off, probably to find himself someone while you and ethan were sitting on a chair together, you on the chair and him on the arm of it

you see him check a text and look annoyed, quickly wiping the expression off his face when he sees you staring

"what happened?" you ask looking up at ethan, somewhat drunk at this point

"nothing…i have to go now, go home with anika ok?" ethan says, getting up and giving you a hug and leaving quickly

you're confused since you didn't know where ethan went and why he went alone since he usually always left with a party with the friend group or chad

"i kinda don't care, you wanna kill me"

you decided to go home about 10 minutes after ethan left, quickly letting anika know so she wouldn't worry

you didn't really care at this point why ethan had left early and were more concerned about getting home quickly

unknown to you, ethan was watching you walk home, didn't you know not to walk alone while intoxicated?

as much as he wanted to go over there and walk you home, that wouldn't match his personality right now

he was in his ghostface costume and had quickly fled the alley he was in after killing a group of kids there

he did feel the urge to kill someone else tonight and you certainly were playing the part of a victim right now but he couldn't bring himself to do it since he would ruin the plan

"you wanna hurt me"

after that night, ethan had been brainstorming different ways to kill the victims and unfortunately whenever he thought of a victim, you were always the first person who came to mind

sweet little y/n was just so vulnerable that night and would've probably been the perfect victim to kill if he didn't love you so damn much

his dad had told him not to get attached to anyone and when quinn had found out he was somewhat obsessed with y/n, saying she was shocked was an understatement 

quinn knew ethan loved her and was chill with it since y/n was going to have to die eventually but she never expected her dorky nerdy brother wanting to hurt y/n so badly

honestly ethan knew his ideas were fucked up but wouldn't it be fun to have someone to just hurt? and then after he could take care of her wounds and cuddle with her

ethan had tried to convince his dad before to let him keep y/n but he said no everytime. wayne knew of ethan's attachment and once he found out he immediately told quinn that she would be the one to kill y/n because god knows what ethan would do

"stop bein' flirty"

ethan often flirted with you in order to get your attention but you seemed oblivious to his attempts until Tara pointed it out to you

ever since she told you, you would always get flustered whenever he flirted or sent you a sweet text

"it's kinda workin'"

more and more everyday, you fell for ethan landry's flirty remarks

mindy had told you to be careful around since he seemed like the person most likely to be ghostface

you didn't really listen to her, brushing off her remarks everytime as just her suspicions nature

and poor you, quinn knew that you were falling for her psycho brother and there was absolutely nothing she could do. she knew that you'd have to go eventually but she didn't think ethan torturing you before your death would do any good

after all she was still your best friend

taglist ☆ - @xyzstar, @gwenlore, @dizscreams, @kaesworldxx, @urmomcomsiimiamour, @nonniesworld, @chemtr4ilz, @abodyhasbeenfound

lmk if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

©insidethepalemoonlight || do NOT copy or repost without my permission

[kiss-theggoat]

Didn’t Think I’d Leave You All Alone on the Subway, Did You? PT. 2

Ghostface x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: It’s been a month since you were attacked on the subway, and you thought you were safe from the Ghostface killer. But a threatening phone call proves you wrong. (Reader has female anatomy, but no pronouns used)

Warnings: Violence, a little smutty this time (somewhat non-con, reader is a little into it, a little not), Ghostface is obsessed with you

You laid your head down against the armrest of your sofa, sighing and pressing buttons aimlessly on the remote. Nothing on the TV interested you, and you were bored of the mindless scrolling you’d been doing for the past hour on your phone. It was almost 11 P.M. at this point, and all you’d done was eat leftovers and lay down. You groaned as you sat up, your abdominal muscles still sore from your injury.

You made your way into the kitchen, flipping the light switch on in order to search your cabinets for something to snack on. You were in the mood for… something sweet. You hummed a song as you opened your fridge, spotting a leftover piece of chocolate cake from one of your best friends birthday parties. Perfect. You took the plate out, got a fork, and leaned against the counter, eating thoughtlessly while staring out the sliding glass doors into your backyard.

Your entire body jolted as you heard your phone ring on the couch. You set your fork down and shuffled into the living room, where your phone lit up. Unknown Caller. You furrowed your brow, but let it ring. It’s probably a scam, and you were in no mood. You turned your heel to go back to your cake, but noticed that your phone immediately began to ring again. Maybe it was important?

You grabbed your phone and clicked the green button, holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Nice to see you again.”

You’d recognize his voice from anywhere. Raspy but smooth, and threatening all at the same time. Your hands went clammy, face pale, and you immediately flashed back to the memories. Laying face down on the dirty subway floor, open wound seeping your life into the ground of New York. Watching him walk away, mocking you. Losing consciousness, only regaining it when an EMT placed an oxygen mask over your face.

You heard a breathy chuckle over the line. “Aww, cat got your tongue?”

You tried to sound confident, brave, but your sentence came out shaky and terrified. “What do you want,” you stuttered.

“To finish what I started. But, it’s such a nice night, I figured we’d have some fun first.”

Your whole body spun, mentally checking your locks. The blinds in your kitchen were open, where you were just eating. A shiver went down your spine as you slowly crept towards your sliding glass door. It was locked, thank god, but you knew if he was out there, he had a beautiful view of you inside.

“If you shut those blinds, I will slit your throat before you can even tell me to stop.” He growled, making your hand stop inches away from the fabric. You peered outside, and knew that with the lights on, he could see you better than you could see him.

“Okay… I won’t shut the blinds.” You said softly, cursing yourself again for sounding so scared. You instead took a step to the side, hitting the light-switch to the kitchen. Next to it was the porch light, which you also switched on. Now, you were in the dark and knew he couldn’t see you as well as he could before. You heard him laugh.

“Hm, smart one. Should we test that?”

“Test what?”

“Your smarts. I want to play a little game. I ask you a question, you get it right and I leave you alone. You get it wrong…”

You peered outside, squinting. Wherever he was hiding, it was a damn good spot.

“What if I don’t want to play?”

“Then you forfeit. You forfeit, you die.”

You gulped, crouching down to be hidden behind your kitchen cabinets and talking barely above a whisper, you responded. “Not really a fair game, is it?”

“Nothing ever is. Your first question is easy. What shirt were you wearing the last time we saw each other?”

The hangnail on your thumb began to bleed as you yanked it with your teeth. “It was a…uhm…a”

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re stumped on question one? Maybe this won’t be as fun as I thought!” He cackled.

“A…white button up. I was coming home from work.”

“Very good!” He sounded excited, his voice jumping an octave as if he were encouraging a child. “Question number two…. A little harder this time. When was the last time I was inside your home?”

Your blood turned to ice. Your eyes widened as your hand covered your mouth. Tears welled in your eyes and your heart hammered against your ribs. You’d been in the hospital for the last few weeks, so there was no telling how many times he had broken in. You began to slowly crawl out of your kitchen, staying as low to the ground as you could.

“That isn’t fair. I haven’t been here.” You whispered. You finally made it around your wall into the living room, where the lights were on but the blinds were closed.

“Ohh, yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry,” he clicked his tongue, pretending like he actually felt sorry for you. “Good thing I’ve prepared an alternate question. Which room…of your house am I currently in?”

You stopped moving, hands trembling and blood rushing past your eardrums loud enough to distort his voice. The fear that ran through you was inhumane. The only thing that gave you some sort of comfort was knowing that if he was inside, you could run outside. You stood up as quick as your body would let you and sprinted towards your back door. Your socks slipped against the tile but you panted as you shakily flipped the lock, throwing the door open with all your strength. Your phone had long been left behind on the floor, and you sprinted out onto your porch, ready to jump into the sanctuary of your yard when you felt strong arms wrap around your waist and fling your body back towards the door like a rag doll. Your shoulder hit the door frame before you landed on the ground, half in your house and half out. The bottom guard of the back door painfully dug into your ribs but you scrambled to push yourself away from him. His boots thumped against the creaky wood as he walked towards you.

You flipped onto your stomach and went to push yourself upwards before you felt the cold and rough tread of a boot press against the skin between your shoulder blades, pushing you painfully back to the floor. You groaned as you tried to squirm away from his grip.

“No answer…” he sucked his teeth disapprovingly, “means you forfeit.”

You started screaming as loud as you could. Not knowing what else to do, a scream seemed like the best answer, and it was, until his hands wrapped tight around your throat, suffocating your shriek into a pathetic gasp.

He grabbed your shoulder with one hand, other still on your throat, and flipped you on your back. He was on you in an instant. He straddled your thighs, keeping them still while his hands gripped your wrists, holding them right above your head. He leaned down and his cold mask touched the side of your face.

“If you scream, I will tear your vocal cords out with my teeth…” He whispered, gravelly voice sounding so much more threatening in person than on the phone.

You panted as a result of the struggle, closing your eyes tight. You didn’t want to look at him, and you were convinced all he had left to do was finish what he started. Instead of a cold knife, you felt a hand on your chest, near your collar bone. Your eyes slowly opened to the sight of his, more like the ghostly masks, eyes that bore into yours.

One hand held both of your wrists and the other wandered your smooth skin beneath the loose t- shirt you’d chosen to wear for bed. He started at your clavicle and slowly made his way down to your chest, grabbing at you and playing with you as he pleased. You turned your head away from him, conflicted at the way his touch made you feel. On one hand he was terrifying. A strong man seemingly made to kill, hunting you like a predator chasing wounded prey. On the other hand, the way he so easily restrained yet caressed your skin had your heart racing for another reason.

The cold air from your open back door traced your curves as he slowly pushed your shirt up over your breasts, only the moonlight illuminating your radiant skin. Your chest heaved, which he liked to see. He reached down, unsheathing his blade, and brought it back up to your chest, where he traced the soft steel down in between the cups of your bra. You shuddered at the feeling. Knowing that this weapon had stabbed you only a month ago just inches below where it lay now gave you goosebumps. The fresh scar on your belly gleamed in the moonlight, reminding him of his handiwork.

He shifted his weight, legs now sliding down your thighs and calves. At this point, your hands were free, but now that he had his knife out, you had no intention of moving them. He sat his full weight down on your ankles, making you wince. The gloves covering his fingers were rough as they traced up your thigh and began to sneak beneath your pajama shorts, leaving heat in their wake.

“Yesterday…” he whispered, his voice raising pins and needles on your skin.

You looked into his ghostly eyes with a look of horror. You watched helplessly as he slipped his hands under the waistband of your shorts.

“What…”

“The answer.”

It hit you. That’s the last time he was here. He had been here yesterday and you hadn’t noticed. He let out a groan as he leaned down, inhaling the sweat and fear off of you.

“I watched you sleep…” his hand grazed your inner thigh and subconsciously, you spread them. “You always leave your bathroom window unlocked.”

[dreadsuitsamus]

Chicago Part 2 | Renji Abarai x Reader |

part one

author's note: after a long time trying to continue this, i've decided it's best if i just do a part 3 instead to cap this off, rather than try to push it all into one section. like in part one, this is heavily based on music by the band highly suspect, which i will always recommend you check out! the songs chicago, vanity, and wolf (which happen to be my top 3 highly suspect songs haha) are the ones mentioned in this fic and i recommend giving them a listen just to get a bit more understanding for the things mentioned in this fic.

pairing: renji abarai x fem!reader

warnings: smoking, mentions of drug use and overdoses, rockstar!renji au, angst

The stage lights are hot against his skin, and Renji's already torn off his shirt and tossed it to the fans screaming in the crowd some time ago. It's been a long string of shows in this tour and he's been out of it most of the time, not that you'd be able to tell through his performances. He's as good as ever, still passionate and still following his soul with every word he sings. It's all he's ever known.

It's an outdoor venue tonight, and it's scorching hot as the show nears its close. Sweat drips off of him and his long, vivacious scarlet locks of hair cling to his back and torso, the cameras on him catching every little detail as he approaches the mic stand again and the lights dim as the last song slows. He's outright refused to perform Chicago the entire rest of the tour, much to the band manager's and fans alike chagrin. Ever since that afternoon he last saw you, where he begged you and you still walked away from him, he can't possibly get through the song without wanting to scream and cry and curse the day he met you.

All the other songs he wrote about you are still fair game, though.

"And I have searched my soul, yeah, for you, it's true." His lips practically kiss the mic and his long, dark lashes brush against his skin as he closes his eyes to hide from the cameras and lights alike. "But nothing ever comes out right. And I swear, I'm headed back to the other side, yeah."

Vanity, he thinks. At least I was honest.

"I can't sit around and watch us both die." His voice rings out, so vulnerable and broken and no matter how many times he sings this song or thinks about you and the good times that are years in the past, he can't help feeling choked up. "Oh no—"

"I cannot watch us both die." Renji says to you as he stares out of the window, rain falling gently as a tear slips down his cheek.

You must hate him by now, if for nothing else than surely for using a line from his breakup speech to you in a song that has been heard by millions.

"Oh no, not I. You know I've gotta try." The following cry is directly from his soul, so beautiful and powerful and he's never screamed so gorgeously in his entire career. Goosebumps litter his tattooed body and the little hairs on his neck stand on end at the feeling— the whole reason for the cameras in the first place is that they're making an edit of the tour, and there's no doubt in his mind that this performance will get a complete video of its own uploaded. It's an older song from album's past that newer listeners likely wouldn't know; what a way to introduce them to his most painful memories.

"I need you here." A damned tear slips past him, and he just knows his face is plastered on the big screens of the venue— even without them, the people in the lawn seats could figure out he's a wounded man. The agony in his voice is more than enough; the lyrics and tears just hammer the point home for those that need to be told explicitly that he's a sad, lonely, broken man.

Crying for the public is starting to become his thing, and he hates what it's doing to his image. But this is the last song of the last show of the tour, and after this… He doesn't get to sing about you for a while. The other band members want a break and it's more than reasonable, he knows. They have families, husbands and wives and happy relationships that deserve tending. He's bitter, but not outwardly enough to try and deny them their love.

He can always go solo for a while, if he really wants to torture himself.

"I've tried and I'll try again. You are my friend. This is not the end."

Maybe he'll go break his own heart again instead. By the time the rest of the band is ready to reconvene, he may just have their next album written. It's been a whirlwind in the months following Chicago, and if there's one thing he's been able to learn during his career, it's that his fans love his pain just as much as they love how he parties. They'll listen to almost anything he wants to talk about— Fucking, fighting, crying, it's all the same to them. His self-destructive misery makes them feel better about their own lives, after all. It's as addicting as cocaine to hear a man spill out his life's woes alongside an insane guitar solo.

He thinks maybe he should keep some of the songs he writes for other people, just to fuck with his fans a bit. Imagine if he didn't sell that one song to Ariana Grande? The reactions would be priceless.

You'd be able to call him out easily though. You're one of the very few people in this world that really sees through the bullshit and knows his passion for what it is.

But why couldn't you accept it? Accept him?

"I can't keep doing this, Renji! Sex, drugs, rock 'n roll— that's your thing! Not mine."

"Well tell me you liked the sex, at least."

Mm, actually he understands entirely why you couldn't.

The crowd cheers and screams and snaps their blurry little photos no one will look at as the music finishes out, and without sparing anyone a glance or thanking everybody for a wonderfully successful tour, Renji's lighting a smoke and walking off stage. It's a dick move but he'll get away with it, as is immediately proven by how they don't stop cheering as he walks out of their view.

The music video finishes off with a shot of Renji walking away, his toned back hidden by the curtain of his fiery red hair. It's gotten so much longer since the first time you saw him. He's always been a gorgeous man, truly. If you could love him on looks alone, you'd still be together now.

With an hour left before the diner closes, you've got a single customer in the entire place and you certainly hope to God he'll tip you well as you approach him with a plastered-on smile to pour him his odd request of a fresh cup of coffee at this late hour. Making ends meet has been rough, and your poor momma works just as hard as you do— you don't know what you'd give if it meant she could finally relax and put her feet up, knowing she'll be taken care of and that you'll be okay too.

Your last guest is handsome at least, with flaming hair that sits around his shoulders and with facial tattoos that surprisingly aren't ugly! You didn't think it could be done, but this random man in the diner has proven you wrong. His hairline puts anime's most prideful loser to shame, but he's still incredibly cute. He's got a napkin out and writes in complete chicken scratch, and his lips move softly as he notates what's on his mind.

"'Hey momma, it's me, your oldest son.'" He murmurs to himself, and oh good lord he's in a band, isn't he? With mommy issues on top of that??

"Your food will be out shortly." You tell him softly, not trying to break his flow. And his eyes never leave the napkin as he keeps writing, but just as you walk away he speaks.

"How late is this place open?"

You glance over your shoulder at him. "Just until midnight."

He nods to himself, scribbling down another lyric. "More than enough time. Thank you."

"Of course, sir."

"Renji."

"He did tip well, at least." You mutter and close out the video as you push away the memory; that night changed your life for several years. How dumb you were in those days! Skipped town with a man you only just met, and a budding rockstar of all people. Your poor mother was worried sick until he returned you home several weeks later, but in the end it had to have been worth it for her— Renji bought her a beautiful house at the very first opportunity he had.

The very house you're currently all alone and watching your former fiancé's music videos in.

In your recommended section is a video you must've seen a thousand times by now. It's an interview Renji had absolutely no business doing for several reasons— he was too famous for the interviewer, namely, not to mention he wasn't sober at all. They always catch him when he's under the influence, don't they? It's their best chance to squeeze out the juicy details of his broken life, their best chance to get real stories behind the pretty words he sings, and anger flickers deep in your soul at how abused he is by others. It's bad enough what he does to himself, but the way his pain is seen as a commodity for likes, views and clicks ignites a rage unlike anything else you've ever felt.

"Your new single, Wolf, what's it about?"

Renji takes a drag from his cigarette, flicking the ashy remains onto the floor. It's a dick move and he's not too fucked up to not realize it, but it's this fucking guy's own fault for inviting him. "Think it's pretty clear."

"Well from what I've interpreted, it's about heartbreak."

"It's about my fucking life being ruined, if you wanna get more specific."

"It's by your own hand though, correct? You've got quite the history of self-destruction, arrests, your drug and alcohol addictions…"

Renji groans to himself. "Can't a guy fuck up in peace? Yeah, sure. I did it to myself, 'cause fuck being happy. You think that's how I like to live?" He flicks away more ashes from the cigarette, not even bothering to take a pull from it now and far more interested in fucking up the flooring.

"Can I be honest with you?"

Renji snorts. "Sure. Nobody else is, so why not?"

"I do think that's how you like to live, Renji."

It's quiet for just a moment, but the redhead recovers with a small laugh. "Guess I deserve that."

"In 'Wolf', there's a lyric that stood out to me. "I was born to rock and now I gotta roll." This is after you say you've given someone your heart and soul— most people don't abandon such a commitment."

Renji's jaw ticks. Why the hell did he come on this show again? To be called out and humiliated on camera?? "I didn't do it for fun, or because I wanted to— I didn't have a choice. It was either stay with her and be happy and lose my goddamn self, or follow the music because I don't know who I am without it and lose her in the process."

"Why not find it? You could be a husband, a father… And still be a musician too."

"But will assholes like you still listen if I sing about tucking my kid in instead of screaming about my mommy issues? Hm? None of you fuckers want me or any other “celebrity” to be happy, ‘cause you don't get your money from that shit. What's gonna get you more views, huh? A picture of me getting married or my latest fuckin’ mugshot?"

For the first time, the interviewer is speechless and Renji flicks the remnants of his smoke at the man before walking off the set, swearing up a storm and kicking things over on his way out.

You sigh and look at the old, faded photo pinned to the corkboard on the wall. Even with the age of the polaroid, Renji's crimson hair still burns bright, just like his smile. His big, stupid mouth is curled into the prettiest smile you've ever seen, with teeth blindingly white despite his smoking habit. Still, you fondly drag your finger down the photo, smiling so gently that your eyes only crinkle softly. The day this photo was taken was amazing, and no matter the tension or the burned bridge between you now, the memory of that day and the good times you had all the time during that era raises your spirits as needed.

The ticking of the clock on the wall reminds you of yourself— it's time you get ready for work at the diner. You never thought you'd be working until midnight at a shitty diner again after you left Chicago all those years ago, but time is nothing but a flat circle, it seems. With a sigh, you pull on your uniform and tie the laces of your matching pink sneakers.

But you don't make it past the front door's threshold before your phone's ringing from a number you haven't communicated with in quite some time.

"Ichigo?" You haven't been too particularly close with him in several years— he was always Renji's friend and rival, though you did have a mean streak on Snapchat still going several years after starting it. "If this is about our streak, I'll send it when I get to work."

"It's not." His voice is somber, and the sound of his sends your skin in a carefully crawling panic. "I just thought you should know about Renji."

"... What about Renji?"

"He's in the hospital."

He hates needles.

"Is he acting up?" If he's acting a fool, he's fine and there's no real need to worry.

But then Ichigo wouldn't be calling, would he?

"He overdosed last night during a party." Ichigo murmurs quietly. “I know it's asking a lot, but… Can I fly you to California?"

Ichigo counts the seconds of silence as you contemplate the idea. He's right, it is asking a lot. Your past with Renji is muddied and his obvious remaining love for you isn't enough to erase that terrible history, even with your own heart constantly pouring out love for the man at every single glimpse of him. He was born to rock and he had to roll; isn't that what he sang?

‘And I’m, I'm burying my pain into somebody else.’ He sang that, too.

"What purpose do you think that'll serve?" Your murmur isn't cold nor laced with any sort of venom or loathing; you're already just a soft breeze away from caving in and calling the diner (again) to tell them you're skipping town for a while— for Renji. It's ultimately Ichigo that'll make the decision that determines if your mother returns from her bridge session to an empty house and a Post-It note with too few details on it.

History repeats itself in the oddest of ways, in the most unexpected of times.

"Renji needs someone." Ichigo's pleading is pitiful and awfully unlike him; desperation doesn't suit him one bit. "A lot of things have changed that you don't know about… I can't look after him anymore."

"Look after him?" A sly, mischievous little smile tilts your lips at how you recall the old days with the old group, where Renji and Ichigo went head-to-head on the dumbest arguments, stupid ideas and drinking contests just about every day and night. "You remember yourself in a much better light than I do."

Despite himself, your old friend laughs on the other end. "I'm a father now, with responsibilities! That old way of life is behind me."

You laugh with him and step back into the house, jogging upstairs to your bedroom once again. "Give me my flight details as soon as you can."

"Thank you."

That old Polaroid on the wall brings a spark to your heart this time, rather than the feeling of emptiness and nostalgia it usually does.

"Baby, I met you in downtown Chicago." You sing under your breath, just as your phone lights up with the information that sets a fire up under your ass to pack quickly— that jerk chose a flight that departs in three hours!

[starscatteredsky]

hey could we get tips for slashers? specifically from the early/mid 80s, we have like three of these fuckers including myself. - Ghost (It/Scream)

tips for slashers

pt: tips for slashers

heyy fellow slashers!! yeah we’ve got a few kicking around as well, nice to see others!

get a costume of yourself!! doesn’t matter if it’s cheap or cheesy, that’s kind of the whole charm of old slashers!

watch all the old slashers, all the old horror movies!

get something like a faux butterfly knife to fidget and play with, it feels comfortingly dangerous but also is completely legal and safe for others! (also they’re just super fun to learn)

if you’ve got time or feel like it, apply to work at a scare house or maze nearby during october. it’s so much fun, and can feel amazing to get to scare people again

collect clothes, trinkets, and jewellery of yourself or other slashers

try harsh, dark makeup looks (sharp eyeliner and contours, dark blacks/silvers/bloody reds, etc)

try out horror sfx makeup if you want. wounds, creepy faces, general horror, there’s a lot you can do with it

listen to some music from the time. the 80s has so many different amazing sounds to connect you to the height of slasher time (our personal favourite is 80s speedmetal)

get some fake blood and have fun with it (put it on clothes, props, yourself, anything you want) it’s super fun, and readily available during halloween

involve yourself in an alt culture that you enjoy, slashers and horror are often greatly appreciated and associated with alt cultures

check out if ice nine kills has a song about your source! they do songs about all kinds of horror, and they’re amazing at it. i CANNOT stop listening to “your number’s up”, their scream song!

try out voice acting to work on a slasher/horror voice

do things that remind you of your source (ex, camping for friday the 13th, calling people or talking about horror movies for scream, practice lucid dreaming for nightmare on elm street, etc)

happy to help other slashers, hope you find these helpful! -🔪

Requests open!!!

[image description:

a DNI banner with the background being the promotional image for Little Nightmares 2. The writing reads:

"DNI: radqueers, proshippers, radfems/TERFs, antikin/antitherian, homophobic/ ableist/ anti ACAB/ transphobic/ rasist/ antisemitic/ xenophobic/ antitheist/ anti athiest/ bigoted in any fashion, NSFW/sh/ed/cringe centered blog, fakeclaimer

Before you interact: We are pro mspec gays/lesbians, anti endo/tulpa "systems", enjoy MCYT/DSMP, pro self diagnoses with extensive research, multiple alters are punks/ anarchists"

end description]

[holdmytesseract]

How about

Congratulations! Magnus Martinsson (or Tom or anyone really) line - "I guess it's the price of love, I know it's not cheap." Song: Ultra violet by U2.

a/n: Getting inspiration for this took me a little while, but in the end I had an idea - and I absolutely love it! 😄 Hope you like it too, nonny! And thank you! ☺️

Warnings: police things, mentions of injuries, guns and some violence, fluff

Word Count: 1070

Tagging: @lulubelle814 @km-ffluv @eleniblue @muddyorbs @loz-3 @vbecker10 @jennyggggrrr @mochie85 @chantsdemarins @multifandom-worlds @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @loki-laufeyson-1054 @lovingchoices14 @simping-for-marvel @stupidthoughtsinwriting @vanilla-daydreaming @lou12346789 @evelyn-kingsley @lady-rose-moon @the-princess-of-loki @acefeather2002

Lyric-Drabble-Mania Masterlist

Based on this song:

Lifesaver

"Mags, what's wrong? You've been so quiet the whole day..." You asked your colleague and boyfriend, while putting on your bullet proof vest. The man with the curly, blonde hair huffed out a breath, worried blue eyes meeting yours. "I... I don't want you to go with us to the cash handover." You frowned. "Why?" Magnus sighed, running a hand through his luscious curls. "Because it's dangerous, min älskling. I don't want you to put your life on the line." The frown on your face turned into a compassionate look. "Oh Mags... I understand you, I really do, but it's my job. Just like it's yours." You stepped closer to him and placed your hands on his bullet proof vest clad chest. "Besides, I could say the same. You put your life on the line as well. Not just me." "I know, but-" "No buts. It's our job. We have to do it. Both, me and you; keep each other safe. We can't retreat from this." Magnus hung his head, but started to nod. "Yes, you're right."

An hour later, you were huddled up behind a tree; gun drawn and heart pounding in your chest. Magnus was only a few feet away from you, hiding behind a thick tree as well. You were silently watching the cash handover and had the order from Kurt to stay put and only intervene if something would go wrong. You and Magnus were so to speak the backup. You really hoped, that neither of you had to act and intervene, but of course, it wasn't going how you wished...

The two men you were after - who held one of your colleagues as a hostage, looked through Kurt's plan. Suddenly things went out of hand and they were escaping with screeching tyres. Then you heard a gunshot, firing from beside you. Magnus. He had hit one of their tyres, making sure they didn't get far. You looked over at him, who gave you a nod, panting. "Let's get going! I'll be right behind you, just checking in on Kurt and the others." "Alright." You nodded and started to run through the woods, into the direction the car headed.

You found it about five minutes later. They crashed, drove against a tree. You approached the damaged car cautiously, step after step. Carefully checking the front and back seats, you found just one of the two men. The driver. He was unconscious, with a gashing wound on his head. The other man was gone. All you had left to check was the trunk. That he was hiding there was most unlikely, but maybe they hid your colleague in there. After ordering an ambulance over your walkie-talkie, you circled back around the car and quickly opened the trunk. Nothing. A sigh left your lips, before you took a deep breath.

You never felt pain, though. The bullet never hit you. Confused and blinking you opened your eyes, which widened immediately. It hit Magnus.

Just as you wanted to close the trunk again, you heard a gun click behind you. Shit. "Det är över! Kasta din pistol och vänd långsamt! Händerna ovanför huvudet!" You had no choice. The man was right. It was over. So, you did what he said and threw away your gun, lifted your hands above your head and turned around slowly, facing him. The man had his gun pointed at you, hand shaking. You felt your heart speeding up once again, breath labouring. You were trained for this and yet you fought the urge to ran – which would have most likely been your death sentence. Words were all you had left, so you decided to use them. "Det behöver inte gå ner så här. Vi kan-" You tried to talk sense into the man, but he didn't listen, interrupted you immediately. "Ja det har." He rasped, before readjusting his aim, ready to shoot. After that, everything happened so fast. The man pulled the trigger, causing you to close your eyes, ready to feel the impact from the bullet. Then you heard another gunshot - and Magnus's voice, yelling from somewhere near you.

Your brain needed a moment to catch up, everything around you happening in slow motion. Another one of your colleagues had shot the man, while Kurt came running towards your hurt boyfriend, who laid on the hard ground in front of you, bleeding. Magnus had thrown himself into the shot. He had risked his life in order to save your life. In that moment, you realised. "Oh gods," you mumbled, stumbling forwards to your knees beside Kurt, who already was about to give Magnus first aid. "I-Is he...?" Your words got stuck in your throat. You weren't able to say it. Kurt shook his head. "No, he luckily isn't." You then checked on Magnus body as well, tears blurring your vision. The man had shot him in his shoulder and he had hit his head as he fell, as a wound on the back of his head told you. That was why Magnus was unconscious. You were like petrified, didn't know what to do. You were shocked, staring at your boyfriend's wound, which was bleeding - a lot.

Everything happened in a blur from that point on. About an hour later, you found yourself sitting on a chair beside the hospital bed, Magnus was laying in, eyes fixated on the man you loved, waiting for him to wake up. He did, luckily, after quite a while...

The blonde-haired man blinked his eyes open, groaning. "Mags... Hey..." You whispered, smiling. He needed a minute to adjust. "What happened?" You pressed your lips into thin line, smiling an uptight smile. "You got shot. Threw yourself in front of me, saving me." A loopy smile crept up your boyfriend's face. "Right... I remember." You shook your head, frowning. "Why did you do this? You could've died..." A small laugh escaped his lips. "I just did what you said, min älskling... Keeping each other safe... I kept you safe." Damn... You inhaled sharply. "Y-Yes, but-" He meekly shook his head. "No buts. I had to. Besides, I love you - and sometimes you do stupid things when you're in love, you know..." Magnus smiled again, dazzling blue eyes meeting yours, as he reached for your hand. "I guess it's the price of love... I know it's not cheap - but I am gladly willing to pay it as often as I have to."

Translation:

> "Det är över! Kasta din pistol och vänd långsamt! Händerna ovanför huvudet!" means in English "It's over! Drop your gun and turn slowly! Hands above your head!"

> "Det behöver inte gå ner så här. Vi kan-" means in English "It doesn't have to go down like this. We can-"

> "Ja det har." means in English "Yes it has."

> min älskling = my darling

[salternateunreality2]

MDZS aka SephZack adventures update: episodes 14-23 SHUT UP I'M AN ADULT I CAN WATCH 9 EPISODES IN A ROW IF MY BABIES ARE IN DANGER

Cough

Anyway

Spoilers...

------

Zack: let's fight the tortoise of slaughter!!!!

Sephiroth: *stares in besotted wtf*

Zack: no, it'll be super cool, we can kill it and get the glory and solve the mystery and most importantly, I won't be bored waiting for Genesis to get back!

Sephiroth: *stares in besotted 'bruh, my leg is broke, you ribs is broke, we both got open wounds, we're starving to death, and you want to fight a giant tortoise'*

Zack: no really, I checked and we can't get out, so I'mma be super bored. Come onnnnnn, it'll be fun! 🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶♥️🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

Sephiroth: ...this is going to be our entire relationship, isn't it? Ok.

Zack: YESSSSSS, after we make some weapons, I'll jump into its shell because apparently that's a thing I can do!

Sephiroth: ...ok

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

The fight with the dick head (literally) Tortoise of Slaughter (solid naming decision) goes great, but Zack succumbs to the infection he undoubtedly got from SWIMMING WITH AN OPEN WOUND AND PROBABLY BROKEN RIBS, THEN RUNNING AROUND THE FESTERING INNARDS OF A TORTOISE OF SLAUGHTER.

Sure, the evil sword energy probably didn't help, and I'm sure canon is saying "um, actually" as we speak, but come on, Zack. The magic grass you packed into your boo's leg wound next to the weirdly short, unsanitary sticks was limited.

---------

The whole fight, Zack is battling with the evil sword miasma, and Sephiroth is making this face:

It's very cute, I am HERE for it.

--------

Zack: 😵

Sephiroth: 😦😦😦😦 you have a fever!!!

Salty: gee I wonder why

Zack: mmm sing me a song

Salty: how about medical treatment, such as getting you out of the wet clothes, sharing spiritual energy, prying your hands off the evil sword that made you sick...

Sephiroth: ok *sings in simp*

Zack: 🥴😵‍💫 what's that song called?

Sephiroth: Wangxian, our ship name, but I don't say it out loud so the Chinese censors are happy ❤️

Zack: ❤️😵‍💫🥴🐶❤️😵

Salty: ffs, if cuteness could cure stupidity, we wouldn't be in this situation, but as it is, keep trying to fix his stupidity/fever with adorableness, it's working for my shipping heart.

---------

The next [way too many] episodes:

------

Then Wen Ning aka Cloud comes in clutch! Wen Ning is baby, and he is BEST BABY EVER ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🐥

-------

Some quick plot points:

Genesis gets degradation, Zack gets him out of it.

Gen's girlfriend helps because she's nice (?) like that.

Gen's parents die.

A war happens with zombie degradation clones.

Zack gets yeeted by the villains into a den of unmitigated horror (not Hojo's labs, but just as nasty).

Everything sucks.

I sat on the toilet to cry into my shirt, not knowing why. It was because I watched the sad thing in my room and the toilet was the only place where the sad wasn't happening. Also it took me a full several hours to realize watching a sad thing made me sad #neurodivergence #isfun #andquirky!

THEN THE BOYS GOT BACK TOGETHER FUCK YEAH!!!!!

---------

Sephiroth: you should probably not fuck around with this newfound angry spirit power...

Zack: remember my cute puppy face?

Sephiroth: fuck

Zack: 🐶

Sephiroth: 🥴

Genesis: STOP MAKING EYES AT EACH OTHER. FUCK OR GET TO WORK!

Angeal (btw he's alive): they are so fucking cute

Zack's sister: dude they so are ❤️

Genesis: we are at WAR

Angeal: I'm gonna be a bridesmaid

Zack's sister: GASP we should get matching outfits!

Genesis: 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

--------

Zack: *waits until the LAST minute to whip out his fancy angry spirit powers* Hey Idiot Poop Face, how bout that?!

Idiot Poop Face: 🤬 *chokes Zack* *it's not kinky*

Sephiroth; *is jealous anyway* *catches bb Zack as he passes out from using angry spirit powers and being choked* *my dude was like half a football field away* *then he appeared out of nowhere to catch his boo*

Salty: *clicks rewind several times because it's fucking adorable*

[typingatlightspeed]

TF2 Fanfic - Someone Else's Song Chapter 2

A whole week of cracking away at N.G.'s mystery letter yields no leads, so Spy creeps out of his smoking room to put boots to pavement and do some more hands-on espionage. Meanwhile, Engie has some meaningful conversations about his chances.

Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Ao3 Link!

Really want a grilled cheese after writing this chapter tho. :/

---------

Spy awoke with a snort, lifting his head from the surface of his desk, a small piece of notepaper stuck to his chin by a patch of dried drool. He swatted it away and tugged the handkerchief from his pocket, using it to wipe his face. He checked his watch. Eight A.M. He sighed. He had fallen asleep sometime before late night had transitioned to early morning, it seemed. His eyes scanned the desk in front of him.

The surface was scattered with papers. Laying at its centre was original letter itself, which had been tested with every solution to reveal invisible ink that Spy could think of. Sitting around were several copies penned by Spy with different notes and marks calling out different letters, words, and turns of phrase, no definitive patterns to be found. Keys for every major cipher in common and uncommon use decorated the periphery. Several examples of the other mercenaries' handwriting were stacked up to be analyzed versus the two letters that N.G. had written, to try and eke out anything from the deeply opaque clue. Spy leaned back in his chair and stretched, having been hunched over for hours. With a weary groan, he took out and lit a cigarette. He puffed a long drag and looked dimly at his fruitless work.

It had been days of this, hammering away at a diamond with a chisel made of tin, no closer to an answer than when he'd picked the letter up in the first place. Staring bleary-eyed at his work wasn't about to spontaneously spawn epiphany. He needed to stretch his legs. And get a coffee. And a shower.

Engineer's work stool had been squeaking near-constantly for the past hour. He wasn't even aware of it, but it was doing it, and constantly. The heel of his boot rested hooked on the bar that circumnavigated the stool's legs, forming a footrest for the man perched atop it, and the toe of that boot was bouncing, making the stool squeal with each jerky movement. Engineer did not notice this. He was too engrossed in the project on his drafting table. Or more accurately, with what was churning away inside his brain while he pretended to be able to get any work done at said drafting table.

The slam of gloved hands on his workbench startled him out of his reverie, and he looked over to see Pyro glowering at him, an oxyacetylene torch clamped to the bench and lit, a small pile of cinders beside it. Engineer reeled back in spite of the good ten feet that separated them. "Somethin' wrong?"

"I'm trying to burn things over here, but bouncing your leg is making that chair sound like we've got upstairs neighbours that just learned what sex was! If you don't stop that racket I'm going to burn down this entire base, starting with myself."

A sheepish smile crossed Engineer's face, and he stilled his leg. "Sorry, Py. I'm just awful wound up."

"I couldn't tell," Pyro shot back, hands settling on his hips. "Spy, huh?"

"It's been a doggone week and he's been playin' it so close to the chest he may as well start coughin' up cards." He shook his head, setting his pencil down and pulling off his hardhat to scratch at his stubbly scalp.

Pyro took a moment to turn off the oxyacetylene torch and flopped onto a rolling stool, gliding over to his friend. "You think he's figured it out?"

"If he has, he ain't said a word about it." Engineer sighed, shaking his head. "Which feels about as good as just bein' shot down, if I'm honest. Maybe I should just be glad he was tactful enough to not just turn me down in front of everyone, or make fun of me for it."

"That's an awful thing to think about the guy you've got a crush on," Pyro chastised.

"It ain't a crush!" Engineer barked. "It's just...interest. Attraction."

"Attraction you expressed by writing him a love letter."

"It was your idea!"

"It's a crush."

"You make me sound like a damn teenager findin' out what love means for the first time."

Pyro tilted his head to the side. "Is that how Spy makes you feel?"

Engineer went silent, considering that for a moment. He sighed. "Fair enough."

A giggle bubbled its way out of Pyro's mask, and he gently clapped his hands in delight. "But here's the thing: Spy, for all of his class and charisma, is pretty forthright. He wouldn't just let things lie. If he wanted to reject you, he'd communicate it somehow , regardless of what level of cruelty he chose to use, right?"

"I s'pose."

"So that means somehow he still hasn't figured the damn thing out a whole week later. I think you covered your tracks too well somehow."

Engineer couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Spy's the kind o' fella who reads so far past the surface he drowns in the details. He'd cut a tree in half to count the rings without even realizin' he's in a damn forest. If I know him half as well as I hope I do, he's probably been burnin' the midnight oil when the answer's plain as day in front o' him."

"Is Spy really that dumb?"

"He ain't dumb at all," Engineer said warmly, a laugh threatening to edge into his voice, "he's too smart's the problem.

*

"I tell you this," Heavy said, setting down his bottle of oil and picking up a rag. "After you use mayonnaise, you will not use butter again. It is life-changer."

Sniper frowned, shaking his head. "I dunno, mate. Mayo for a grilled cheese?"

"I did not believe at first either. But it brown more even, make flavour more...," the giant searched for the right word, "rich? I think is how to say?"

"Yeh," Sniper confirmed with a nod, finishing laying out the pieces of his rifle on the worktable of the armory. "Right, next time you're fixin' one, throw one on for me. I'll try it. If I like it, I'll teach you my special grilled cheese recipe."

"Special grilled cheese?" Heavy asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"The secret is ham, apples, and a runny fried egg," Sniper said with a conspiratorial grin. "But you gotta poach the apples in cinnamon and sugar first, so it's almost like applesauce or pie fillin' without the corn starch."

"Is sandvich really still grilled cheese at this point?"

"Dunno, but what I can tell you is that it's delicious."

"Will keep this in mind," Heavy agreed with a nod. If making Sniper a normal sandwich got Sniper to make him a fancy sandwich, he wasn't about to turn it down. Especially if ham was involved.

Spy suppressed a sigh. He stood, cloaked, leaning against the door to the armory as his teammates chatted sporadically as they maintenanced their guns. Everyone made time to clean and work on their weapons at some point every few days, though Heavy was a fixture, pampering his darling Sascha as a daily ritual and making him easy to find for anyone seeking him out. It was one of the rare times one could catch the giant for a casual conversation.

Apparently this time, Sniper had seen fit to use his time with Heavy to talk about food. It was one of the universal languages, Spy supposed.

It didn't help him at all in his effort to eavesdrop on the team for clues, though. At least, not until...

Sniper looked back over his shoulder, and Spy froze, invisible and silent and far enough away that any lingering scent of smoke on him wouldn't be detected. "So, you think Spy's cracked the code yet?"

Heavy chuckled. "Don't know. There are many common ciphers used. He has lot of work to do to eliminate them all."

"Probably spent the whole week neck-deep in cryptography for nothin'."

Heavy shook his head. "It is funny. Spy is too smart to be so stupid sometimes."

Spy frowned at the insult, trying not to let it bother him too much. Heavy didn't know enough English to speak delicately.

"Look how his kid turned out. Apple don't fall too far from the tree."

"You are mean to Scout. Thought you are Scout's friend."

Sniper shrugged with a laugh. "Mate, if anyone's qualified to rib the little gremlin it's 'is mates. I'd expect no less from 'im in turn."

Heavy shook his head, realizing that perhaps he'd spent so long only socializing with his family that the urge to banter had grown rusty. Certainly, he remembered teasing his friends in college mercilessly, and laughing when they did the same in kind. "This is fair."

"Either way, I hope all of this gets figured out soon, else N.G.'s gonna 'ave a heart attack from waitin' on tenterhooks." Sniper took up the barrel of his rifle in one hand. "Pass that brush?"

Heavy handed his teammate a brush with a nod and a grunt, and silence fell as they worked.

Spy lingered a little longer, but soon slunk away with a silent sigh. It seemed like Heavy and Sniper had an idea of who this mysterious N.G. was, that it was neither of them, and from the way they spoke, it was an obvious thing to them. He didn't know whether he should be insulted or not, stymied in the search as he was. The way they talked, it was clear that he was looking too hard , which only frustrated him more. Had he wasted all of his time on a line of thought that lead nowhere?

Fine.

If cryptography would get him nowhere, he would do things the old-fashioned way: pure surveillance. Already, skulking him in the shadows had gotten him that much, a half-step closer and Sniper crossed off the list, so perhaps it was time for a bit of the human touch.

*

Coffee. Medic needed coffee. Those chupacrabra kidneys weren't going to be used to filter irradiated echidna blood on their own, and Medic just knew his hands weren't going to be steady enough for the suture work he'd need to do after an all-nighter unless he had at least a little more caffiene to keep him going. Once he had the data he needed he could finally crash out and sleep. Just a little longer.

With a yawn, he pushed open the door to mess, a little surprised to find Spy there, leaning against the counter on which the communal industrial-sized coffee maker sat, an overlarge mug in his hand. He looked almost as tired as Medic felt, and judging by the dark circles under his eyes, he, too, had been neglecting sleep in the pursuit of knowledge. Medic smiled fondly and waved as he approached.

"Spy! It is nice to see you outside of the battlefield for the first time this week," he teased, snagging a mug and dumping an unconscionable amount of sugar into it before filling it with coffee. "You've spent so much of your liberty time working in your office, I was worried you'd turned into me!" He tittered, then added milk enough that the beverage began to match his skin tone, and snatched a spoon to stir it with.

Spy tried and failed to not make a face as he watched Medic mangle his coffee. "It is a smoking room, but you're not incorrect. I have been working, though the way I currently feel, I can no longer say it is tirelessly."

Medic grinned at that, a soft, "hoo," of a laugh puffing out of him. "So how does the search for your secret admirer go?"

"Secret admirer; you make it sound like we're children."

"You received a love note from someone with a crush on you."

Spy pouted in reply.

Medic tittered. "It's sweet, really. Romance is childish, isn't it? At it's root?"

"Your idea of romance is very different from mine, then."

"Think about it: Naked emotion making your heart race, your palms sweat, your brain positively swim with oxytocin, manifesting as giddy delight? Your body's reaction is as brazen and free of guile as children speaking plainly, 'I like you,' wouldn't you say?"

Spy eyed Medic for a long moment, waiting for some unhinged or dismissive follow-up. When none came, he shrugged a shoulder. "Fair enough, I suppose." He sipped his coffee, sneaking a sidelong glance at his companion, a bit disarmed by the fanciful soft side he had revealed.

Was he wrong in discounting Medic so swiftly? What if it was him? Would it be so bad, to be loved by a man who could heal your every wound, every ailment, make you stronger, faster, better, more healthy and hale than nature could ever offer of its own accord?

In sickness and in health indeed.

But Medic was married to science. It was his husband, his work his wife. His greatest passion could never be devoted to a mere man, no matter how extraordinary. A lover would have to be satisfied always being the runner-up in Medic's heart and life.

Spy couldn't imagine being satisfied with that. Even he had tried to put his work aside once, his love of a woman far stronger than the love of his life's calling. Sadly, that calling was not about to be so quickly turned aside.

But he couldn't blame Medic, either. Brilliance often brought with it a certain single-mindedness. Medic and his experiments. Heavy and his guns. Only Engineer seemed able to pull himself away from his hyperfocus, powerful and self-destructive as it was, still taking time for playing guitar and cookouts and nights sitting under the stars, enjoying the quiet beauty of nature when he thought the rest of the team had gone to bed and he'd been left alone to his own devices, unaware that Spy would often rest against the wall beside the door to the porch, cloaked and sharing in the moment of peace. Each man contained multitudes, but only Engineer could pull himself away from his work with enough regularity to place that fact on display. And rustic though he may be, Spy couldn't deny that there was a bucolic charm to his non-work interests.

Spy looked back to Medic, who was smiling at him over the rim of his mug. He realized that he'd been caught spacing out for a moment as his brain churned away. Medic tittered as their eyes met.

"I almost forgot: there is also the telltale rush of blood to the capillaries of the face, causing erubescene," he teased, "or blushing , as you might know it." He gestured gently to Spy, who realized to his own dismay that his cheeks had grown hot as his mind had drifted.

Spy cleared his throat, straightening his posture like it would hide the pink peeking above his mask from the taller man. "Yes, well, thank you, Docteur. But I should be getting back to it. Mysteries do not solve themselves."

Medic took another sip to contain his giggles. "Of course! Good luck, Spy, and I hope the real thing turns out as lovely as your fantasies!"

Spy grumbled out a vague thanks as he set down his empty mug and slunk out of the room in a small huff.

N.G. definitely wasn't Medic. He got far more enjoyment out of needling him, both literally and metaphorically, than any romance would offer.

*

Scout sat back from his drawing, pen tapping against his lip as he regarded the shape of the car he was sketching out. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't place what. Then again, he also wasn't used to drawing at a forty-five degree angle. "Draftin' tables are weird," he said, looking past said drafting table to where Engineer was seated on a rolling shop stool, hunched behind a dispenser, its wires spilling out as he went at something inside with a pair of pliers.

"Takes some gettin' used to, I'll admit," Engineer replied absently.

"Yeah."

Silence fell for a long moment as Scout scratched down a few more lines onto his notebook. "So, you bend Spy over the workbench yet?"

Engineer dropped his pliers, sputtering in surprise, his face going red in an instant. "What the hell is wrong with you askin' somethin' like that?"

"Seriously? No? Don't tell me 'e still ain't figured it out! Shit, man, you might as well just tell 'im at this point, if 'e's too dumb to pick up on it after a whole-ass week."

"He ain't dumb."

"Yeah okay," Scout snorted.

"It also ain't your business."

"Why not? Man, if two 'a my coworkers're gonna be all kissyface an' shit all the time an' bangin' in the off hours in the base where we all live which ain't got soundproofin' , that's gonna turn into my business at some point. What if Spy's a screamer? Especially with what you're packin'!"

"...what I'm packin?" "We all shower together; ain't nobody not noticed you swing pipe, Engie."

"You little pecker checker."

"I was scopin' out the competition."

"Competition for what?"

"I dunno; not Spy though, I'll tell you that. He's your problem. Least, he will be once you just go nut up an' tell 'im."

Engineer set down his pliers and stared hard at Scout. "Like how you told Miss Paulin'?"

Scout stammered a bit before crossing his arms across his chest. "This ain't about me."

"First time you've ever said that about anythin'," Engineer shot with a smirk.

"Look, I don't get why you're into 'im, but you are. A guy don't write another guy a freakin' love letter if 'e ain't down bad for 'im."

"The letter was Pyro's idea. Said 'e was sick of watchin' me pinin' away in silence. And now I'm in this mess."

Scout smiled a little at that. It explained a lot. A love letter didn't really seem Engineer's style, which probably wasn't helping Spy solve things. "What, were you just never gonna say nothin'?"

"Spy's a refined fella. He wouldn't go for a country boy like me if I just up and said somethin' to 'im."

"You kiddin' me? You've got more PhDs than there are guys on base! You can play guitar! Chicks dig smart artsy guys."

"Scout, Spy's a man."

"Do guys who like guys dig smart, artsy guys?" Scout asked, rolling his hand like he was waiting for Engineer to catch up with him.

Engineer stared for a long moment, unable to argue. "S'pose so."

"See? Look just 'cause you're all yee-haw an' axle grease don't mean that ain't what 'e's into, Eng. Like yeah, I bet he'd totally wanna bang a dude just like 'imself, but maybe that ain't all, yeah? Maybe he likes a guy who's stronger an' more manly than 'im, yanno? Hold 'im in 'is big arms, make 'im feel safe..."

Engineer lifted an eyebrow.

"I mean girls like that, so maybe guys who like guys do?" Scout recovered, gesturing broadly with his arms.

"Maybe they do," Engineer huffed out with a laugh. Scout was right. It was entirely possible that Spy would be interested in what he had to offer. He was aloof, but that didn't mean he didn't find anything attractive in any of them The man maintained a standoffish facade with the whole team, buts it was his own brand of professionalism, likely to make up for what an immature little shit he could be on the field when he thought nobody was looking.

Engineer was looking, and what he saw made him laugh. It was endearing, really, to see the cool, aloof cat of a man doing voices and chucking insults the same as the rest of them. He wasn't really above it all, in spite of how he tried to play.

"Look, I ain't got a dog in the race, Eng. So I can tell ya square: anyone with eyes can see you're a catch, man. You're built, you're handy, you play guitar an' sing an' know how to cook. Plus, you're rich. Like crazy rich. Like not just built yourself up rich but Daddy's Money rich on top 'a that. Fuck around money rich. If you were into girls they'd be tearin' each other's hair out tryin' to get to you! An' I bet Spy sees that too. Guy sees everythin', yanno?"

Engineer chuckled at that. Scout wasn't exactly great at navigating it, but the spirit was there, and he appreciated being hyped up a bit. "Thank ya kindly," he said demurely, laying a hand over his heart. "But him seein' everythin's why I ain't piped up yet. I want 'im to figure it out, act on 'is own initiative. Ain't the same if I confront 'im with it, feels like. Plus, the man loves his ego stroked. Bein' able to solve the puzzle'll go toward that, I reckon."

"I don't get it. Figured with guys you could just circumvent all that pussy-footin' around shit. 'Hey, gorgeous. We both got dicks; wanna do it?'"

"And that's why you ain't had a date of any gender long as I known you."

"Man, I ain't had a date 'cause we're stuck livin' in a base in the middle 'a fuckall nowhere!" Scout barked, indignant. His expression turned to a pout as the only reply he received was Engineer's signature wheezy chuckle.

*

"We're bloody terrible at this game," Demoman huffed, watching his horseshoe land a full foot away from the stake.

"You have no depth perception, of course you're terrible!" Soldier barked, lining up his shot. He let his horseshoe fly, only for it to overshoot the stake by at least two feet. "Too much mustard on that one."

"And ye can barely see out from under the brim o' that helmet," Demoman huffed. "I'll have ye ken me aim's close enough. Can hit a runnin' Scout with a pipe at twenty paces nae danger!"

"I thought close enough was supposed to work for horseshoes and hand grenades! You're one for two, maggot!" "Shut it!" Demoman's lip curled up into a snarl as he lined up his next shot. He swung his arm and released the horseshoe, which fell limply to the dirt just barely inside of the pit, two and a half feet from the stake. "Crud!"

Soldier hacked out a laugh, doubling over to brace himself on his thighs to keep standing.

Demoman stood there pouting at him, arms crossed over his chest. 'I'm too sober's the problem. Nae had a drink in almost an hour. The double vision's the trick, ye ken."

Spy watched from the porch, posted against one of the supports holding up its bockety, sun-rotted roof. He was getting fidgety from spending a while without cigarettes, trying not to get made by scent, but he kept his shaking hands hidden in the pockets of his trousers. The last thing he wanted was to jitter so much that the motion of his cloak could be seen.

As expected, there wasn't much to eavesdrop on with Demoman and Soldier, the two of them spending most of their words to roast one another with the sort of viciousness only close friendship could elicit. It did warm Spy's heart a bit, in spite of it all. At least that whole business with the BLU Soldier hadn't dulled this friendship or made things awkward. Though he suspected neither man had the emotional intelligence to realize why it could get weird. Ignorance may truly be bliss after all.

Either way, while it was certainly entertaining to watch, it wasn't really getting him anywhere. He suspected as much, but due diligence made it just seem right to see if two of the most loose-lipped men on the team would let anything slip. Given Demoman's known interest in men, it could make him more prone to gossiping about the base's newest potential homosexual romance.

Assuming Spy was right and he hadn't written the letter himself.

With a sigh, Spy pushed off of the support, deciding to cut his losses and go try to see if he could talk Pyro in enough circles to spill something. The arsonist clearly knew something, or at least liked the drama enough to be working on figuring it out as well. Either way, it was likely to be more fruitful than watching the most tragic lawn game he'd ever witnessed.

A creak sounded from the old, dry-rotted wood. Then the roof groaned . Spy's head snapped back to look up a moment before a rotten chunk of the structure fell. He leapt, rolling across the concrete paddock of the porch, and narrowly missed the rain of wood and shingles as the whole corner of the roof gave way and collapsed with a clatter and crunch. His cloak sputtered and dropped, leaving him on one hand and his knees, staring wide-eyed at the wreckage.

"Oi! Spy! Ye alright?" Demoman called, jogging over.

"Y-yes, thank you," Spy replied, climbing to his feet and dusting off his trousers.

"Knew that thing's days were numbered, but I didnae realize just how close tae the end it was," the bomber mused, looking over the damage.

"Why didn't Engie fix it?" Soldier asked, ambling over, utterly calm.

"'Cause he fixes everythin' else on this bloody base, and he cannae be everywhere all the time," Demoman reasoned, a bit shamefully.

"He's reliable and capable, but even he is but one man," Spy mused, taking out a cigarette and lighting it with relief. If his hands weren't already shaking, they definitely would be now.

"We need two of him," Soldier concluded, slapping his fist down into his open palm.

"How're ye gonnae do that?" Demoman replied with a smirk, egging Soldier on.

"He could make a clone of himself! I bet he could reprogram Respawn to do it!" Soldier grinned broadly, proud of his idea.

"Aye, that's definitely how that works." Demoman rested his hands on his hips and had a chuckle. "So Spy, ye out here eavesdroppin', or was that," he gestured to the wreckage that was the corner of the porch, "just a wee coincidence."

Spy sighed. Demoman was too canny for his own good sometimes. "If you're accusing me of dropping eaves, I assure you, that ," he, too, gestured to the destroyed porch roof, "was not my intention."

Demoman whooped out a laugh at that. "Ye should banter more, Spy. Ye got the touch!"

A soft, self-satisfied chuckle left Spy, and he took another long drag. "I've spent the majority of my liberty this week slaving away at that love letter. Some fresh air would do me good. At least, I thought so, until the porch tried to crush me."

"Ach, what's a bit o' mortal danger? It's good for the blood," Demoman dismissed with a laugh. He hopped up on the edge of the porch next to where Spy stood and patted the concrete paddock, inviting him to sit. Soldier climbed up on his other side, kicking his legs in the air.

With a moment's consideration, Spy shrugged and settled in beside Demoman, half-facing him with one leg up on the porch, the other hanging. "I assume you'd like to chat."

"Aye, aye. Surprised you're of a mind."

"Like I said, I've spent the entire week with no human interaction outside of combat, slamming my head against a puzzle." Spy took a drag and exhaled, looking off to the side. "Don't get used to this."

That made Demoman snort. Spy was ridiculous, preening like a cat and pretending to be above it all. It would be infuriating if it weren't so transparent. "Sure, aye, nae danger."

"So, have you figured out who it is, yet?" Soldier asked.

Spy sighed, thinking it obvious. If he had, why would he be here, sneaking around and almost dying to faulty construction? "No, I have not."

Soldier replied with a soft, "Hm."

"Dinnae let it get ye down," Demoman offered, clapping Spy on the shoulder then swiftly removing his hand after clocking the look of utter disdain that it elicited. "Honestly? A whole week o' radio silence after a note with barely a hint? It's strange, it is."

"Perhaps, but when presented with a mystery like this, what am I to do?"

"I ken ye've nae conclusion, but any theories?"

Spy took a long drag. "A few. Some more attractive than others."

Demoman chuckled at that. Fair enough. "Which ones're more attractive?"

"Fishing for compliments?" Spy teased with a smirk.

"If I'm still in competition I'd be more concerned about yer qualifications for wearin' that balaclava, mate. Ye ken me style, and sneakin' love notes isnae it."

"Didn't you and the BLU Soldier get together at a gun show?" Soldier asked.

"It's where we met and struck up a friendship," Demoman explained. "Wasn't 'til after we hit the bars, got good 'n liquored up, fought the cops, and laid low at a motel outside town that I kissed him. Was ready tae write it off as adrenaline until he kissed me back, and started slidin' his hand down me trews." He sighed fondly, as painful as the nostalgia was.

"Wait, you fucked on the first date?" Soldier asked.

"Did we have time tae consider there'd be another one?" Demoman reasoned. "I'm nae some blushin' flower, mate. I've got a braw lad askin' me tae blow his back out, I aim tae do it."

"You can't aim for shit," Soldier snorted, then fell into laughs as Demoman pushed him off the porch.

"Yes, well, I suppose the speed at which you move isn't quite compatible with writing notes," Spy said, rolling his eyes and trying to expel the mental image of Demoman fucking the BLU Soldier from his mind, even if it did answer the idle curiousity he had as to which of the bombastic, competitive men had been the bottom.

"Aye, aye, but still's tae the point: any o' those theoretical authors actually have a chance, mate? I imagine yer nae gonnae throw yerself at a lad just 'cause he's wrote ye a love note. So what's the best case scenario? Who'd actually have a shot? Who d'ye hope it is?"

Spy sat with that question for a long moment, taking a thoughtful drag of his cigarette. The pause was so pregnant Demoman fancied its water was about to break.

He hadn't really considered that. Not in earnest. Sure, he thought about the pros and cons of who it might be, whether it was preferable. But what would he really do once he discovered the answer? And what if it was an answer he didn't like? What if it was an answer he did? What was an answer he did? Who was he kidding? He hadn't gathered the thoughts in a cohesive manner, but in his gut, he already knew who he wanted it to be. His own wandering mind had taught him as much.

"Engineer," Spy sighed, looking away so as not to meet Demoman's eye. Out of the corner of his own vision, he caught a smile crossing the bomber's lips anyway.

"Good, you can get him to fix the porch," Soldier announced.

"Engie, aye?" Demoman said appraisingly, giving a little nod. "Ye've good taste, lad. Broad, braw bloke like that? Muscles for days and a bit soft? That voice? "

"Do I have competition?" Spy teased with a soft laugh, grateful that he hadn't been teased immediately for a rare moment of candidness.

"Ach, nae. I'd nae dare stand in yer way."

"In my way?" Spy asked, eyebrow lifted.

"Look, lad. It's clear ye want him tae be the answer. Which means yer sweet on him. Which means nae matter who this secret admirer o' yours is, what does matter is ye've yer eye on someone already. The matter's been breached, in so many words. Why nae just make a move?"

"And if he's not the author?"

"Then yer nae interested in the author anyway," Demoman reasoned. "Right?"

Spy nodded slowly, admitting it to himself. Any other candidate just didn't capture him the same way, didn't set his heart to racing and his mind to distraction like thoughts of the short Texan with his warm voice and strong hands and eleven hard-science PhDs. "Which leaves the question of whether Engineer would be interested," Spy pointed out, gesturing vaguely with his cigarette.

"You will not know the answer to that if you do not ask," Soldier said plainly. "If he did write it, then he is interested. If he did not, you can not know if he is interested unless you ask."

"Hate tae say it, but the lad's right," Demoman agreed, jerking a thumb at Soldier. "And say he's nae the author, and someone else's feelings get hurt: lad wrote ye a note so opaque even you o' all people couldn't crack it, and never followed up, dropped any other breadcrumbs, just sat back and let it lie. Can he really blame ye for followin' yer heart?"

"He snoozed, he lost!"

"Aye, exactly!"

Spy chewed on that thought for a moment and took another long drag to finish his cigarette, stubbing it out on the concrete porch as he exhaled. "Fair enough, I suppose."

"I ken the direct approach isnae yer wheelhouse, but sometimes, the only way out is through!"

"Yeah, go get 'im, Frenchie!"

Spy snorted out a soft laugh and shook his head. This was where he was getting his romantic advice? Still, he supposed, they weren't wrong.

[nellie-elizabeth]

The Legend of Vox Machina: Into Rimecleft (2x06)

Eyyyyy we're splitting the party, this should be good.

Cons:

Okay. So. Keyleth encouraging Vax to talk to the Matron of Ravens... I get why they added this little detail in, but to be honest it's a characterization change I'm not sure about. Keyleth in the streams has always  been very dismissive or even distrustful of the gods. It feels weird that she should be the one to gently nudge Vax towards exploring that relationship. Maybe I'm misremembering and Keyleth says something to him in the stream too, it's hundreds of hours of gameplay and character choices aren't always 100% consistent, but this just rang false for me as a Keyleth moment.

Literally I have no other complaints though, this episode is perfect.

Pros:

I've been saying that all the episodes could use a couple more minutes of breathing room, and this episode really helped by having a section where everyone's just walking on their journey to meet the second sphinx, and they have a chance to chat, to catch up. The aforementioned Vax and Keyleth moment happens there, and we have Pike worrying about Grog, we have the ADORABLE moment of Percy giving Vex his coat... he's so smitten, I love it. It just really gave the group a chance to breathe and check in with each other before their next big moment of tension.

Grog's nightmare at the start of the episode was so intense, and was mirrored so beautifully by the agonizing ending where he stabs Pike with Craven Edge! This is changed in circumstances to how it happened on the stream, although something similar did occur, and it's so brutal to see it play out! Travis is killing it in the voice acting department. He really only offered comic relief last season, but now he gets to shine.

That goes double for Scanlan - see, when I started watching Critical Role during campaign one, my original favorites were, quite predictably, the twins and Percy. Percy's got that anime angst thing going on, and then pretty quickly so does Vax, after the Sunken Tomb incident. But as I kept watching, slowly emerging to the forefront of my "favorite characters" list was... Scanlan Shorthalt. It's partly the genius of Sam Riegel. He's such a charismatic man, he can take the jokey little gnome bard character and just shatter you to pieces with what happens next. And since watching this show, they have the time and space to set that up properly... hot damn, this is one of my absolute favorite episodes of the whole show thus far.

To start, we see that Scanlan does have people checking in on him, in their own way. He's not as completely isolated as he pretends to be, it's just that his humor is deflecting people from noticing his pain. Grog offers to carry him to warm him up, and yeah it's a comedy beat, and yeah Grog is manhandling him, but that's Grog's way of showing he cares, too. And Pike wants to talk to him about Grog, and yeah she tells him off for making a dumb joke, but she was looking for some sincere conversation from him, and he was the one who failed to give it.

Then we get Kamaljiori. This is a significant shift from how this encounter went down on the stream. I actually laughed out loud when the sphinx just introduced himself, because let's just say that's definitely not how it went the first time around! I love how Kamaljiori's trials are similar to Osysa's, in that they both involve touching on the insecurities of the party members: Vex doesn't have family who cares about her other than Vax, Grog needs to find where his strength comes from, etc., but it's also different. They're finding fun ways to mix up all the different combat scenarios from the show, what with this being a one-on-one test of strength that's ultimately won by emotional damage.

Fucking Scanlan, pulling out a pop ballad to wound Kamaljiori's heart... and it's honestly such a good song? Sam has such a good voice, damn! I actually got goosebumps. It's such a funny twist, and so heartfelt, and Scanlan actually finds a friend who understands him on an emotional level, who he can joke around with but who understands there's a heart under all that, and that he's having a hard time. It's so heartwarming for Scanlan to find this, and he even gets his own Vestige out of the deal! Mythcarver. I like how they've added in the twist about Mythcarver being tied to all the other Vestiges, so it can lead them to find the others as we go.

And then... just to pile on the angst... looks like with Ripley's assist, Umbrasyl has found Vox Machina. This was such an epic showdown, and again it's increasing the menace of these dragons. We just watched how Vox Machina couldn't get a hit in on this Sphinx, and now Umbrasyl is able to go toe to toe with him! I was genuinely moved by Scanlan and "Kammi" defending each other during the fight. This ancient powerful being risked his life to protect his new little friend. In fact, he lost his life, after thanking Scanlan for letting him see Osysa once more before the end. This totally broke my heart!

And while we're all being sad about this Sphinx dying, meanwhile Grog is losing his battle to control Craven Edge, as he ferociously tackles Umbrasyl single-handed. Keyleth is trying to get a plane shift spell going, Grog is covered in Umbrasyl's blood and won't stop attacking, Pike tries to stop him and... gets impaled for her trouble! Gasp!

I'm actually really excited to see the Fey Realm stuff play out and the Westruun story also take strides, while our party is split up. It feels like it's a good opportunity to mix things up, and honestly will build to a really satisfying reunion in a few episodes!

A couple small things to call out: the Vax and Percy tension is still there simmering in the background. He's short with Percy about reading the runes, then shoulder-checks him on his way to go face the Sphinx. I'm obsessed with guilt-ridden Percy trying to make nice with Vax and just getting nowhere... I hope we get some of that in the next batch of episodes. Keyleth has a moment where she's hesitant about trying an unfamiliar spell, and Vax calls her "Kiki" and encourages her to try, and she is quite calm and more self-assured than we'd normally see her as she agrees to try. I love this! She's growing into her confidence more and more! Grog's attempts to hide what's happening with Craven Edge are very suspicious but also very funny. This week, he claims he was talking to the trees, to throw Pike off the scent.

And that's it! I can't believe this show keeps making me wait after such tense moments. Pike is seriously injured, Grog is drowning in guilt, the group is separated... can't wait to see more next week!

10/10

[abyssal-ali]

I have been Waiting for This

(That's a lyric from the song for this fic [Higher by The Score] but also applies to you eager readers haha)

Talia's POV of Burned my Wings. (Read Chapter 1 for more context; it's Jason's POV)

Rating: M [tw: non-graphic blood, violence, depression/bad mental state]

WC: ~3.7k

Many thanks to @skypalacearchitect who beta'ed for me and made this smoother!

Jason @ Jason deciding to have himself killed in front of Bruce:

The meme was kind of what inspired this whole fic, also suggested by Sky.

Dark Jason: get killed in front of Bruce

Jason: brilliant

Jason: TALIA!!! I HAVE A GREAT IDEA!!

(Talia: *headache intensifies*)

~~~

Bonus content from sky:

Bruce: she literally killed you!!!

Jason: I know, it was really funny

Bruce: 😡

Bruce: NOOOO

*showing anguish, devastation, trauma*

Jason watching the camera footage: *eating popcorn and laughing*

~~~~

5+1 Times Jason Gave Talia A Headache

Talia busied herself making tea in Jason's apartment while he slept quietly in the next room.

She'd broken in less than an hour ago after her mother's intuition pinged yesterday, letting her know one of her sons was doing or planning on doing something stupid, reckless, or both.

She had first checked on the son she actually had some control over, finding Damian going through stretching with his trainer.

"Ummi?" His wide, innocent eyes looked up at her as she laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I just wanted to see how your flexibility was improving, habibi. Have fun, and be good for your trainer."

Damian nodded, his cheeks still puffy with baby fat that she wanted to pinch sometimes.

She had finger-combed his hair out of his face and left the room, wondering what Jason was dreaming up now.

This specific feeling showing up this strongly usually meant that her oldest son was doing something that would cause her and Bruce and sometimes Father a headache.

1. The first time she experienced it, she had been uncertain about the cause.

A week later, she got a shaky phone call from Jason, who confessed that he'd decided to kill his latest trainer after finding out the man also dabbled in trafficking kids.

Oh, and since he hadn't completed his training with him, the trainer had overpowered him and managed to fatally wound Jason before succumbing to his own injuries.

Oh yeah, he was perfectly fine now, but he was pretty sure he'd died again? His voice had given out over the phone after he admitted it out loud and Talia immediately packed and flew to him.

Two days later she dropped him off to train with the All-Caste, hoping that they could help Jason with his existential crisis.

Talia had already suspected that Jason was semi-immortal, at least from young or violent deaths, but Jason was still recovering from his first death and this second one had made him spiral again. The poor boy was questioning his existence and if he was even supposed to be alive or if he was just a freak of nature, some vermin that just couldn't stay down, like a cockroach.

Talia was having none of that, but knew she was not equipped to properly help him work through it, so she called on Ducra and the All-Caste to help.

When Ra’s had found out what had happened with Jason, he had complained but eventually accepted it, and she talked him into renegotiating things.

They ended up both compromising. Talia agreed to take on more responsibilities in running the League despite her reluctance towards assassin work, and in exchange Ra’s would relax some policies regarding the Shadows.

Now those who wished to leave would be allowed to do so, with the agreement of surveillance to prevent them selling secrets, as opposed to Ra’s past policy of hunting down and killing any deserters.

They also came to an agreement about Damian.

Talia would allow Ra’s to give Damian more training but with concessions such as being allowed to take him to relax (and Jason, when he returned) whenever she wanted as long as it didn’t exceed a certain duration. Talia was glad they could take vacations more easily now.

After all, it's hard work organizing people's murders.

2. The second time her mother’s intuition tingled that badly, she immediately called Jason to her room.

He’d finished his training with Ducra and the All-Caste and returned home much calmer and more balanced.

She had an idea that this feeling was related to the small smirk that was constantly on his face since he’d returned.

"Jason, as thrilled as I am that you have returned and seem to be somewhat at peace now, why do I have this sense that you are plotting something?”

To his credit, he immediately spilled the beans. “I want to go back to Gotham.”

“Why?”

“To make Bruce kill the Joker.”

Talia sighed and languidly waved her hand at her desk. “Show me your plans.”

Three months later, once she had double-checked his plans, she and Damian waved him off as he flew back to Gotham.

This wasn’t going to end well.

Summoning her head guard, she ordered a contingent of Shadows to watch over Gotham and report any anomalies to her immediately. In an emergency, they were to jump in and help the new Red Hood. Revealing League affiliations was of no consequence if they could protect her eldest son.

3. Jason entered the living area from his workshop excitedly. Her niggling headache returned in full force.

“T, look! I modified my helmet to blow up if someone unauthorized tries to take it off!”

Talia gaped at him, wondering how her brilliant tactician had come up with such a…stupid idea.

"While it’s on your head?”

He nodded. “I’ll come back, but they won’t, so my ID will be perfectly safe! It’s brilliant!”

Talia supposed that at least he wasn’t viewing the gift of resurrection as a curse anymore. Still, she’d have to keep a closer eye on him to make sure he didn’t go around recklessly playing with such a delicate matter.

She sighed. “I can’t stop you, can I?”

“Well, I mean, you could…”

She shook her head. “Although some of your ideas…give me pause…I still support them. You are certainly trustworthy and trained enough for me to support them. I just wish you weren’t so reckless with this blessing you have.”

Jason put the helmet down carefully. “I really appreciate how much you trust me, T. I’ll try to keep my life-endangering stunts to a minimum, okay?”

4. Talia lifted the binoculars to her eyes.

Jason was two buildings over, a gun to Joker’s head and a gun to Bruce’s.

This was it, the final showdown after months of red herrings and cold trails and petty obstacles that Jason had thrown at Bruce.

Her grip on the binoculars tightened as she watched Bruce throw the batarang, almost as if it was in slow-motion. It knocked the gun back in Jason’s hand and she winced sympathetically, knowing the pain of a blast injury well.

The Joker started laughing on the floor as Jason’s backup plan he had set up in advance finally kicked in, and the timer for the detonation for a major explosive went off.

The building turned to rubble in a cloud of fire and smoke.

Talia dropped the binoculars and turned to her waiting squad of Shadows, barking orders impatiently.

It was a good thing she had decided to come to Gotham to watch the showdown.

As she led the Shadows to the building, she saw Bruce digging through the rubble, torn wires sparking and smoke drifting creating a moody atmosphere.

She halted, waiting to see what Bruce would do, and barely held back the wrathful urge to confront him when she saw him hauling the Joker out of the debris, but saving Jason was more important, especially as it seemed no one else would. She could ruminate on Bruce’s failures as a parent later.

The red in her vision was not only from the hazy flames licking around the concrete.

As soon as Bruce was gone, she followed the tracker to Jason’s limp form and began moving the rubble covering him.

She would not let him die in another explosion, would not let him die from betrayal of another parent.

~~~~~

Jason’s eyes cracked open a little while after the doctor on her staff had pronounced him as fixed up as he could manage and she had tucked him into bed.

“T?” he rasped, his eyelids heavy.

“I’m here, habibi. I dug you out of the wreckage and took you to the closest base to treat you. It’s only been a few hours.”

“You were watching?”

“I do not trust Bruce as much as I once did; he has changed greatly.” She wiped a cool, damp cloth over his face. “How are you feeling?”

“I think I hyperven’ilated an’ passed out from the PTSD. Thanks fer gettin’ me out, T.”

“Always. Do you want to return to the League?”

He shut his eyes and nodded. “F’r now, yeah.”

Once he fell asleep, Talia called Ra’s and asked him to prepare for their return. She would not be letting Jason and Damian out of her sight for a while.

5. “You are the most stubborn person I know,” Talia sighed, pacing her room impatiently.

“Why must you return to Gotham? You will always have a place here, and you are more than welcome to it!”

Jason looked down at his feet, spread in an at-ease stance. “I have to go back.”

“Did you not get the closure you wanted? Why must you return to such a cursed place that bodes you no goodwill?”

His fists tightened and loosened in a subtle pattern Talia recognized as a breathing technique.

“I have to go back,” he repeated stubbornly. “I need to deal with the power vacuum Red Hood leaving caused, at the very least. I promised those people help and I meant it! I know you understand obligations to help the innocent, T.”

Slightly irritated at his persuasive speaking and slightly proud of his argument, she acquiesced.

He managed to convince her to let him stay every single time she visited, and he spent the next two years in an on-again/off-again conflict with the Bats.

Every time she visited him, she noticed how heavily the animosity between him and the Bats weighed on him. Several times she found him crying or raging about something Bruce had said; occasionally he was doing both.

Every single time she reminded him of his permanent spot with her or in the League, he reiterated his thanks but chose to stay in Gotham for the crumbs of hope that Bruce tossed his way.

It pained her to see her son suffering so much because of his completely understandable desire for a relationship with his father. She understood it all too well.

Talia’s displeasure with Bruce’s actions grew every time she visited Jason and found out what had happened this time.

It seemed that once Bruce had grudgingly allowed Jason to work with him and the other Bats, he discovered some of the skills Jason specialized in. He didn’t appear to be above associating and working with a Rogue when they could help him, calling Jason in to work with him and then berating him once the mission was over for morally dubious actions Jason had performed under the Bat mantle.

She worried for Jason’s cognitive dissonance, as when he was with her he discussed how unwelcome he felt, but on her next visit he recounted how he’d done everything to Bruce’s specifications just to be a part of the pack for that mission.

+1. Talia moved around Jason’s kitchen quietly as she made tea and planned her speech, glad he appeared to be sleeping soundly.

She had decided that it wasn’t healthy for Jason to continue in Gotham and was resolved to speak with him about his health.

She wanted to be proud of him for trying to save innocent people, but she could not bear this cost to his mental and emotional health such close proximity with Bruce was causing her son. He could save people anywhere else in the world, couldn’t he?

This was the longest stretch she had gone without seeing Jason since the explosion, and she was a little concerned for him.

She heard Jason get up and poured the tea into two mugs.

He paused as he saw who was in his kitchen, then placed his knife on the counter and greeted her confusedly.

“Talia? Why are you here? I thought you were with Damian?”

“I had a feeling my oldest son was plotting something and needed my help.” She left the mugs on the counter and embraced him warmly, glad to see him looking so peaceful…and devious. Oh dear. She sipped her tea, hoping the herbs would prevent the headache she could already feel oncoming.

They sat down to eat and Talia decided that she had waited long enough. She leveled a solemn look at him, and she had to admit, she enjoyed his slightly guilty wince.

“Jason. You are not one to hold back your thoughts, habibi. What is it?”

He met her gaze squarely. “I want to perform a little experiment on Bruce, and I'd like your help.”

She looked him over calculatingly. “Go on.”

“Bruce said some things last night...I almost shot him somewhere he'd have a hard time recovering from. But then I thought, he's still never recovered from the first time I died. That's what this is all about, anyways, so what if I do something to him he'll never recover from.”

Talia stopped eating and wrinkled her brow as she stared at him, analyzing his body language.

Jason continued, “I want you to kill me in front of Bruce.”

She stood up, pressing her mouth into a firm line. “I did not save my son from that man's brutality just to kill him myself.”

How could he ask this of her, knowing how dearly she valued his life? She had gone to some great lengths to support him in his seemingly insane plans, but this was too far.

She paused her anger to finish hearing him out.

“Look, T, I'm not sayin' this lightly. I know what death is like better than most. But I need to know exactly how he feels about me, if I can realistically continue to work in Gotham or not. You and I know I'll come back, but he doesn't. I- he seems like he wants me dead and gone, so he can still mourn Robin-me. I need to know for myself.”

Talia stood in front of him, carefully scrutinizing his body language and facial expressions.

“...this is not a situation like the aftermath of your showdown?”

She had been seriously worried he would test the limits of his abilities and had made him live in her quarters for the first while after they returned to the League.

“No, T, I'm not askin' this 'cause I want to die. I'm askin' because I want to live. I don't feel like I'm really living around the Bats, always keeping an eye out for a potential problem and what I'll be blamed for next. But...I need to know just how big of a chance I have to live with them. And how much they'll look for me if I leave. I'm not asking this of you lightly, T. Feel free to say no; I'll understand.”

She felt seriously conflicted, but his words rang truthful, and he’d not yet lied to her.

“I must think about this, Jason. But if you leave, I will always help you, whether they chase you or not.”

Jason smiled and hugged her. “I know. Thanks, Talia. Take your time, I have drama to plan anyways.”

He left the room, heading for his workshop, and she stared after him, contemplating.

~~~~~

The next Saturday evening, while Jason washed the dishes and Talia dried them, she casually brought up his request.

“I’ll help you with your plan, habibi.”

Jason turned to her, dripping a few suds on the tile floor. “I’m mentally stable enough to handle you killing me?” he asked wryly.

Her lips thinned subtly in displeasure, but she was long used to his ways of speech and his use of humour as a defence.

“Something like that. Are the dramatics of your plan sufficiently plotted?”

“Almost. I was thinking I’d confront Bruce in the Batcave, if possible with his little sidekicks there so he can’t hide anything from them anymore, and then you come in and hug me and stab me in the back.”

Talia frowned. “That is a dishonourable method of killing, especially for my son.”

“I know! It’s a visual aid to show Bruce just what he did to me!” Jason whipped a page of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. “I have some ideas for my last words to him. Ideally, they’re the last I’ll ever say, so I want them to be suitably dramatic and memorable. Here’s my top choice.”

He cleared his throat and read off in his stage voice. “This knife hurts less than all the times you stabbed me figuratively in the back with your words and inactions. My blood is on your hands.”

He looked up at her. “I was thinking you could explain what that means and then use the others’ outrage to escape with my body. I think it’s a nice ending, leaving him with actual guilt. He blames himself for my first death, but that’s not what I blame him for and he just won’t get it.”

Talia sighed, giving in to his wishes. She let her targets have their last words or wishes when she could, how could she deny her own son when she was the one killing him?

“Very well.”

He looked at his paper again, failing to hide the little smile he always made when she gave into his desires. “I think this might need a bit of tweaking, though…”

~~~~~

“Jason? Why are you here? You stormed out last Saturday and haven’t been very active lately.” Bruce greeted Jason, confused.

Talia raised the volume of her comm to better hear the conversation, so she’d know her cue.

“I had something I wanted to say to you, Bruce.” Jason’s voice came through louder.

“Which is?” Bruce sounded irritated.

“I want to work with you. You were my first family, and you helped me live longer and better than I would’ve as a kid on the street. I’ve come to terms with the fact that we will always share opposing viewpoints on certain subjects, but I still respect that you have a code. I’ve even compromised on my own views when I could to make myself appear in a more palatable light.”

Talia felt proud of how even Jason’s voice was, though she knew how hard this was going to be for him.

“But why is it always me compromising? I’m more than willing to accept your unwillingness to kill, but why must you be so coldly against anyone killing? Even if I stopped killing permanently, you’d never see me accurately, would you? I’d always be viewed through a blood-red lens. I would never be your son.”

“Once a killer, always a killer. You enjoy these executions you perform, Jason. My son died when he was fifteen.”

Talia’s anger flared to life, furious at the hypocrisy of the man she had once loved. He had come to train with her father, he had loved her, he had fathered Damian with her (although he did not know of Damian’s existence and hopefully never would), he worked with heroes that did kill or subscribed to a different belief than his, namely, that some people deserved to die, and he had the gall to say that to his son?!

She tapped in Jason’s passcode to the Cave and strode in, covering her anger with a thin layer of false calm, steeling herself for what she was about to do.

“Thank you for confirming my hypothesis.” The tiny quiver in Jason’s voice was quickly masked.

“Habibi.”

“What are you doing here, Talia? How did you get in?” Bruce asked angrily, and Talia barely restrained her scornful laugh, turning it into a carefree one instead. He had no right to be angry with her or Jason right now.

“I just had one final thing to accomplish before I left Gotham for good.” She turned to Jason.

“If this will hurt you after or you just can’t do it, I’ll understand,” he whispered.

“I appreciate your concern, habibi, but I will be alright. This is for you.” She wrapped her arms around him tightly.

She could do this for him, give him the actual closure he needed.

She lifted the dagger and heard the shocked gasps from the peanut gallery.

"Don't come any closer or I'll slit his throat," she warned, sure that Bruce at least would consider her capable of it, the ironic fact that she's about to stab Jason not lost on her.

"Or maybe you would prefer that I finish what you started," she taunted Bruce.

“Goodbye, Bruce. I will leave Gotham for good, and I sincerely hope we never see each other again."

The shocked crowd of his coworkers finally moved. Richard was the one to speak. “What does that mean, Talia? Finishing what Bruce started?” His voice was tinged with suspicion at what she had just hinted at.

Good, he was not in agreement with Bruce's treatment of Jason, perhaps even considered him wrong to be so cruel to Jason.

She smiled bitterly at him. “I would tell you to ask your father, but I do not believe he would tell you the full story. When the Red Hood confronted Batman with the Joker two years ago, he gave an ultimatum. Batman was to shoot him, or the Joker. Batman chose to walk away, then knocked the gun out of Hood’s hand with a batarang, causing it to misfire and be damaged. Explosives that Hood had prepared then denotated and blew the building up.

“Batman headed for the rubble and dug through until he found the Joker, whom he then made sure survived. He did not extend the same grace to his own son, whom he told his biggest regret was not saving him the first time. He simply left after finding the Joker. If I had not been watching the scenario out of curiosity, I would not have arrived in time to dig Hood out of the rubble myself and make sure he got medical attention. Batman did not later return to the wreckage to either save Hood or make sure he had not survived,” Talia spat.

“I love you, Ummi.” Jason said, quiet enough only she heard.

“I love you, ya albi.”

She took a deep, steadying breath and raised the dagger in her hand, swiftly piercing him through the heart.

She knew exactly where to aim to kill him with minimal pain and suffering, ending this quickly. He had a few minutes, at most.

He lurched a little in her arms, turning to face the man they had both once loved.

“This knife in my back hurts less than the figurative one you shredded me with time after time. Congratulations, Bruce, your son is dead.” He choked and spat scarlet blood at Bruce’s feet. “His blood is on your hands.”

Bruce stared at him, then the blood, still stunned at the spectacle.

Talia had considered this solely for Jason’s benefit, but seeing the emotions flit across Bruce’s face as he looked at the morbid tableau gave her a small, satisfied feeling.

Regret this, Bruce. This is all on you.

Jason’s shallow breaths had stopped after his parting words to Bruce.

Her hand rested tenderly over his eyes, brushing his eyelids closed.

I will see you soon, ya albi, happy and healthy.

She stood, brushing her robes into a semblance of neatness, disregarding the cacophanous tirade now coming from the Bats.

Her contingent of Shadows filed out of the Cave's shadows, blocking her off from the furious Bats and engaging them in combat to distract them from pursuing her.

The Cave devolved into chaos, and Talia took full advantage of that fact to gently lay Jason’s body on the ground and run to Jason’s bike and hightail it out of Gotham.

~○~○~○~

Taglist open

@tw-jumpscare you requested MOAR?

[ultraericthered]

Anime Update V3 11

From Me To You - So we've got Sawako and Kazehaya seated next to each other now and the homeroom teacher has been replaced by what looks like a grown-up Gary Oak (same voice as the teacher in March Comes In Like A Lion, but it works for this one too), so Sawako offers to help with after-class activities, in doing so meeting new friends named Endo and Hirano. Things seem to be going Sawako's way now, with more students coming around to seeing and liking the real her, and even bearing witness to a genuine sweet, heartfelt smile from her. I was wondering when the real conflict was going to kick in, as this all seemed too good to be true, and lo and behold, Yano and Yoshida overhear some girls talking about alleged deinquent acts from their previous school years, and when asked where they heard these rumors, they say Sawako told them!

Hunter x Hunter - Much of this episode moved in slow motion as Gon's group charged past Luppi (who exchanges blows with Shoot and transforms into a more muscluar, multi-limbed, multi-eyed, fugly looking appearance), Pitou moves ahead of Netero and Zeno in order to alert Meruem, and poor Komugi takes the brunt of the roof dropping down onto her and Meruem. But Mereum takes the whole thing with remarkable calm, healing Komugi's wounds and then just...walking right past Netero and Zeno as though they're nothing.

SHUFFLE! - Rin and Kaede tried to move on with their lives while coping with the absence of Primula. Sia and Nerine learn from their fathers more about the truth of Primula's condition and how she's not likely to come back from it, but keep it a secret from Rim and the others until it comes out in the open when Rin gets it out of the God and Devil kings. There's only one real cure, and Rin wants to find it, with his friends gathering together to put a plan of action together. However, Nerine seems triggered by the whole thing and runs out!

The Case Files of Lord El-Melloi II - A lovely little girls shopping day gone unexpectedly awry, with Gray, Reines, and Luvia hanging together at a department store that Luvia owns when a bounded field is created via a magical security malfunction. It wasn't much in the way of a mystery or even an adventure, but it was just so much fun watching these three different personalities working off each other in a situation Waver wasn't present in, and getting to witness Luvia unleash her ferocious wrestling moves again was a treat. While Lauren Landa greatly improved her voice acting for Luvia compared to before, I don't much like Luvia's character model in this show, it doesn't look as good. After a good, sincere gal pals moment between Reines and Gray, and some talk of Iskandr, we check back in on Waver to find he's recieved an ominous letter from Rail Zeppelin...

KonoSuba - None this week. Need a break from their madness.

Symphogear XV - The series finale for not just this season, but for the entirety of Symphogear, and as such they did everything needed to make it a worthy finale. Carol resurfaces to fight back against Shem-Ha, who uses the world's computer networks to have Yggdrasil cover the entire globe in a barrier, Noble Red use the last of their remaining strength and life force to do something that lives up to the first part of their name for a change, all of humanity joins together to hold back Shem-Ha's hacking virus, the Symphogears fight a beyond epic final battle against Shem-Ha and then even after she's been terminated and Miku has been freed they need to destroy the core of Yggdrasil with a united Climax Song that brings out the spirits of every dead character that still resides within the girls' hearts and songs. During the escape from the exploding core, as expected, Shem-Ha returns for one last scare and tries to drag Hibiki and Miku down to Hell with her, but the two girls manage to shut her down with their words and the strength of their idealistic resolve and their love, prompting her to entrust the future of mankind in their hands. And just to cap it off in the best imaginable way, the final scene sees Hibiki and Miku watching the stars once again, but this time they're just about to finally confess to one another their true feelings. <3

Eureka Seven - Finally got a full account of how Holland met Eureka and why they defected from commiting war crimes and anti-Coralian acts for the military, and in the process so much about how and why Holland has been the way he's been for much of the series is explained with few words to spare (like, his big brother physically abused him - now we see where he picked that up from!), and we can understand why this current mission matters so much to him. Talho also drops the bombshell of now being pregnant with Holland's child, we get some angst and development from Moondoggy of all people, and Dewey has the lead Voderac monk brought before him, hoping to force his hand in deciding the future of the planet.

[kandadiff]

Van Der Wulff : small comforts

~

The dank wetness of the cell seemed to seep into all your pours. Besides occasional soft voices, or the clinking of some technology from past the bars of the cell or the bird song drifting in muffled tones from outside - the area was silent. You were left alone for what seemed like hours with just the booze and vape to keep you company. The room was humid so you soon stopped puffing on the vape, the heat and smoke causing you to cough so roughly your throat hurt. To pass the time, your attention was brought to the Vodka bottle that Abigail left.

You were nearly done with the bottle when you realized it had to be laced. You were way drunker then you normally would be. The floor under you started to sway and it seemed everything around you started to pulsate. Your stomach lurched and you felt like you were about to vomit. You needed to throw up. Your eyes slowly looked at the exposed toilet in the corner of the cell and you started to crawl to it. Except another lurch of your stomach demanded faster movement. You attempted to stand up but instead fell into the stone wall. You hissed but tried to move towards the toilet. But the heat of the room and whatever drugs were laced in the vodka were fully working against you. The next step you took made you once again stumble into the wall. You sucked in a deep breath in the false hope it would help you steady yourself. You waited a few moments, and took another step just as bile burned your throat. You fell face first into the railing of the bed. 

~

The sound of music caused you to come out of your dreamless state. As soon as you opened your eyes, your heart speed up and you froze. The humidity was gone, now replaced by the cool air that came from the buzzing AC propped into a window. A window? You didn't want to fully get up, scared at wholes was in the room. Instead you looked around seeing you were indeed not in the cell any more. Besides the ac, the room had a soft queen bed, which you were laying on, a dresser, a chair and a desk where a man stood with his back to you. Immediately, you sucked in a breath knowing you didn't know this man. Your eyes darted around to the window seeing the sparkling night sky signifying you had to be out for a couple of hours. Your eyes then shot to the door, though it was closed you saw the shadows of men just on the other side.

The window would be your escape route. You attempted to get up but as soon as you sat up the pounding in your head stopped you. A searing white pain shot at you from behind your right eye making you yelp, squeezing your eyes shut and catching the attention of the man.

"Careful!" The man rushed to you with a gauze pad smelling of peroxide. You opened your eyes and gasped. The pain in your head was the only reason you knew you weren't dreaming. Their pressing a glauze to your head was Austin.

"Austin?" you let out a hiss when the peroxide hit your wound. His kind brown eyes locking with yours. "Where?" your throat was dry and do to the coughing fit of the vape your voice came out just above a whisper.

"You're in my room." he said gently. "You hit your head pretty hard. You scared Samantha." He let out a small laugh. "thank god Abigail sent her to check on you. The stitches won't leave a mark when they heal but it will hurt for about 2 weeks." When he lowered his hand you saw the white of the gauze tinted pink with your blood. He gave you a sad smile before quickly getting up. He made his way over to the desk grabbing a water bottle and handing it to you. "Sorry, you must be thirsty." You thanked him watching him move back over to the desk where a medical bag was.

You gratefully took the water, chugging it down as fast as you could, reveling in the cool relief that it gave your throat. "Austin," your voice was quiet but clearer. "I need to get out of here." He looked back at you a small scowl on his face.

"There is no escape Adi." he frowned. "Not until the boss lets you go."

~ ~ ~ ~

I took the medicine Lloyd's on call doctor gave me. Within a few minutes I was knocked out, lost in vivid dreams of Luther. In them I was once again locked in the basement, with chains weighing me down I tried to run and squeeze out of my chains but they painfully squeezed my sides leaving deep marks. I felt Luther behind me, his red aura spilling into mine. "YOU KILLED MY BROTHER!" he screamed and no matter where I ran there he was. His hands shot out and closed around my throat tightening until I couldn't breathe. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU BITCH!" I clawed at his face and hands but he was laughing as i struggled to breathe. He let go for just a moment and I screamed just as he started to shake me. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

I was pulled out of unconsciousness from my own wild thrashing. The sheets were tangling my limbs and a cold sheen of sweat stuck to my body. I tried to calm the crazed beating of my heartbeat in my ears while my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room and memories flooded back. I let out a sigh of relief. I was with Lloyd. He was in the room just across from me.

After realizing I was not going to go back to sleep, I got up and crossed the hallway to his room. I knocked nervously causing the door to creak open but it was empty. Sighing and not wanting to think how much I already missed having Lloyd around me, I made my way over to the empty living room. I cuddled not the couch turning on the TV attempting to distract myself from my nightmare.

I heard the door open about 2 hours later while some rerun of George Lopez was playing. I had long lost interest in the TV and turned toward the door. Lloyd was speaking to his right hand man, Seb, clearly annoyed, the entire aura around him red with anger. He was about to say something else when Seb pointed out my eyes poking out from the couch.

Lloyd eyes immediately softened "Are you okay?" He called out to me. I nodded and he looked at Seb, whispering a few things and the other man left us alone. He made his way over to me, I turned back to the TV.

I felt him putting a blanket over me and a sense of calmness washed over me. All the tension I had been feeling from my dream and the racing of my mind was quelled. He put his arms over me while wrapping me in the fluffy afghan. He was warm and smelled like the outside which told me since leaving me with Jamie, he was out all night probably looking for Luther. I tried to push those thoughts out of my head just enjoying the cocoon of safety that his presence offered. I was so deep in my comfort I didn't realize he was talking to me. "What?" I asked slightly blushing.

He chuckled. "Did you sleep?"

I snuggled into the blanket and leaned back on the couch shaking my head. "Not much, I - um - I kept having nightmares." He nodded looking away from me and I bit my lip embarrassed, the silence making it worse.

"I'm sorry." he said breaking the lull. "I should have come earlier."

"Its not your fault." I said turning towards him. "I-" I sighed "I'm sorry I freaked out on you on Christmas Eve." He opened his mouth to speak but I took his hand to make him look at me. "you're right I shouldn't have expected you to tell me that. It wasn't fair."

"I should have said something anyway."

I chuckled and looked at my hand still holding his. "And" I added "I should have let you handle him the moment you knew something was up. I thought threats could stop him. Clearly" I motioned to my face. "It didn't work." he reached up to my face, tenderly pressing the pads of his fingers to the fading bruise around my eye.

"Does it hurt?"

"A little." I admitted.

"I did try." He admitted and I raised an eyebrow. He looked up at me with a small smile. "Thats why I was in New York. I had a friend of mine offer him a very good position at NYU and have him in a terrible accident." He smiled wider when I laughed. "It would have been tragic." he winked but soon his smile faded and he shook his head. "The bastard wouldn't take it though. I was going to just end him myself but when I got back to town he was gone. I had no idea he was Mexico." I nodded. "When I saw you were here, I thought you just needed a break but as soon as I realized he was the one to sign you out of school while being out himself."

"Hes such a fucking creep." I grimaced leaning into loud. He moved so I was comfortably adjusted into his side. We sat like that for a few minutes until something hit me. "Lloyd?"

"Yes, sunshine?" he asked looking down at me.

I sat up "How'd you know I was in Mexico? Luther said he didn't tell anyone, thats why no one was looking for me." Lloyd looked at me as though he was unsure of how I would react to what he had to say. "Don't lie." I warned with a smile.

He chuckled and fingered the necklace he reunited me with that was hanging around my neck. "I told you, your mother wanted me to protect you and Robin. But you, sunshine, go wherever the wind takes you and that is fun but its hard to constantly keep track of." He turned over the locket and pressed on the red ruby that was the cat eyes. "There was a tracker in it but it was long since deactivated. I updated it before I gave it back to you." He said slowly as though weighing his words in his mind and nervous to my reaction to them.

At first I didn’t do anything and he grew nervous, though his face remained stoic. The necklace felt heavy around my neck but not oppressive. Luther had tried to drill on my head that I had no hope, that no one was looking for a frequent runaway. But Lloyd was he knew where I was and he came to save me like he always would. He knew something was wrong and immediately had a way to find me thanks to Harley. Emotions overcame me and I felt tears burn my eyes before I threw myself onto Lloyd hugging him tightly. As though on an instinct his arms wrapped around me. “Thank you.” I squealed out as I silently cried in his arms. He rubbed my back and held me tightly.

-

[morefandomscenarios]

The ways they tell you they ❤love❤ you

Luffy

Clinging onto you like a koala (a very adorable koala, if I may add).

Always including you in his 'team' whenever you find new places to explore.

Making up random songs about you and randomly singing it out of nowhere.

"[name]'s great~ strong and smart and awesome~ huggable and soft and delicious~"

"L-Luffy... We're trying to sneak past the guards, unnoticed, remember??"

Eating the stuff you don't like off your plates without being told.

Whenever you share your desserts with him and Sanji finds out, he never fails to stretch his head to give you a big smooch before running away from the angry blonde.

Waking you up to raid the fridge in the middle of the night.

Trusting you with his hat before he jumps into any tough battles.

Always, and I mean always coming to you first to bear-hug you the moment he wins against a strong opponent.

Sanji

Food, snacks, desserts, cocktails on hot days and warm cups of chocolate with extra marshmallows on cold nights.

Serenading you in public.

Attentively listens to you with undivided attention when you talk to him about anything.

Always making sure he's in a presentable state before seeing you.

Leaving small post-it notes on your mirror.

"You look beautiful today too, darling ♡"

"I hope you have a good day today, my love."

"Good evening, my dearest sunshine. The sun might have gone to rest today, but I am so glad that your light never fades."

Keeping all the post-it notes attached to the fridge from you in a box in his room.

Always checking with the vendors where to find the ingredients for your favorite food first, whenever they have to resupply.

Slow dancing with you under the stars when everyone else is asleep.

Zoro

Sparring with you and giving you feedback on your fighting style, especially on the parts you're weak/struggling with.

Sharing the best nap spots in Sunny with you.

Not drinking your sake when you ask him to hold it for you.... most of the time.

"Wait, is this the last bottle?"

"...."

"............"

"Just... one sip.... should be fine, right...?"

Silently guarding your door whenever he's not on watch duty at night.

Dragging you away to a quieter place under the excuse that he needs you for something whenever he notices you getting overwhelmed in public.

Pulling you to a safer path before you bump onto something or someone.

Letting you tend to his wounds when he doesn't want to go to Chopper because it's not a big deal.

Buying you a matching earring when you offhandedly told him you wanted one that looks just like his.

Ace

Kissing you at least ten times a day (preferably fifteen, maybe twenty on sad days).

Having his arms around your shoulder whenever you're walking around a new town exploring.

Calling you with pet names.

"Babe, I'm hugryyyyy!"

"[nameeee] you're the cutest, prettiest sweetest pumpkin please can I have a hug!!"

"Thatch, have you seen my sweeth-- I mean [name]?" "Your sweetheart should be on the deck, lover boy. Now shoo, I've got a lunch to cook."

Pulling you behind his back whenever some pirates come asking for trouble, attracted to the insignia tattooed to his back.

Making a fool of himself just to make you smile.

Cries when you cry and laughs when you laugh. The whole crew believes you have some sort of telepathic connection to each other.

Seeking you out whenever he has nightmares, and letting you hold him when he's at his most vulnerable.

Law

Complaining whenever you're fussing him about his health but obediently following your instructions to sit / lay down / bend down as you take care of him.

Nagging Constantly reminding you to eat, drink, and get enough sleep. Oh the irony.

Discreet kisses on your forehead whenever you pass by each other in the submarine and no one's around.

Letting you nap on Bepo in his place although he wanted to take his nap himself.

Letting you steal his hat and not using his power to steal it back, instead waiting for you to bring it back to him and leaning forward so you can place it back on top of his head.

Sharing his coffee whenever he brews one from himself.

Naturally moving closer to you whenever he notices you visibly getting anxious or uncomfortable.

"You alright?"

"... Better, now that you're here. Thanks."

"Hmm."

Allowing you to link your index finger to his pinky whenever you're in public.

Kid

Wolf-whistling whenever you walk by him on the deck.

Decking the new recruits right on their face and throwing them overboard when they copied the same gesture.

"Well then maybe you shouldn't-"

"Shut up! I'm trying to be romantic here!"

"You think that's being--" Killer sighs and shakes his head, "... Nevermind."

Oh, there's a sea king nearby? Perfect. Die, bitch.

Giving you random hand-built things that you don't need or know what to do with most of the time (how the hell does one care for a crystal terrarium?? And what kind of cursed wood carvings is he giving you this time??).

Letting you borrow his tools (he doesn't let anyone else touch it - they're his babies).

Applying your makeup and entrusting you to apply his makeup.

Never failing to sit still on his bed while listening to your voice as you're applying sunscreen to his exposed skin in the morning, reminding him for the thousandth time about how he'll get sunburnt out there with how pale he is.

Getting you the same coat as his own (and grinning proudly when you wear it everywhere).

Tucking you in bed and kissing you good night whenever you fell asleep waiting for him to finish his work on the ship.

Killer

Making sure you're out of harm's way first when Kid starts rampaging.

Patting your head lovingly in the morning and bumping your foreheads together. It's his version of a morning kiss.

Brewing your favorite type of coffee/tea so it'll be ready when you wake up.

Remembering every small details he's heard from you before and using it when he has to (yes, you like blue but not that blue).

Hugging you close while you cry and silently nods to show that he's listening as you vent to him about your problems.

Tag teaming with you to tackle his first mate duties, including but not limited to: making sure the crew members aren't killing each other, keeping the ship (mostly) functional, checking in with everyone to ensure they're doing their jobs right for the week, and of course, saving Kid before he gets into too much trouble.

"Did you check on Heat and Wire? They were at each other's throats two days ago."

"Yeah, they're fine now. I asked them to settle their petty fight."

"..... You forced them to shake hands and hug, didn't you?"

"Well, if it works, it works, right?!"

Sharing his premium shampoo and conditioner with you.

Taking extra care with your bed and with washing your laundry whenever he's on cleaning duty.

Shanks

Always holding your hand when you're nearby.

Meeting your eyes across the deck and throwing a wink or blowing a kiss into your direction.

Twirling you round and round and round until you're dizzy and have to lean onto him for support on every banquets where he asks you for a dance (read: every parties).

Humming and gently tapping his fingers against your waist on sleepless nights. Might as well enjoy the moment if you can't sleep, right?

Always running to you for help when Benn is being 'mean' to him.

"[naaaaame], Grumpy is scolding me agaiiiiin!"

"[name], this is why I keep saying you spoil him too much."

Teasing you. Constantly. 24/7. I'm sorry dear, that's just part of the package.

Collecting photos and articles of you to hang them up on his room's walls (some old articles about Roger and Luffy's latest poster are pinned up too, but you have your own section).

Leaving you alone, no questions asked, when he senses that you need some alone time to yourself, and welcoming you back with a big smile when you jump back into his arm.