#i like her so shes going to be part of the crew

[crystallinestars]

Just Confess Already! Part 2

Drabbles about Genshin men (or you) confessing with the help of a wingman. This is pure fluff.

Characters: Kazuha, Kinich, Ororon, Wanderer, and Cyno.

Part 1 here.

I apologize if the endings sound abrupt, I've edited and rewritten this many times, and at this point I just want to get this finally posted. I also apologize for the length, my writing style has changed since part 1.

🍁 Kazuha

Everyone and their mother at The Crux could tell you and Kazuha had a thing for each other. The way you guys spent most of your free time in each other’s company discussing poetry or music, the way Kazuha always volunteered to help you with your tasks, how you took care of Kazuha when he got drunk, and just the overall subtle romantic tension about your pair tipped off pretty much everyone.

Though Beidou didn’t want to pry into the love lives of her crew, she’d sometimes catch glimpses of you and Kazuha chatting up in the crow’s nest of the ship and noted that the way you smiled at each other was endearing. Otherwise, she paid little attention to it, thinking it was only a matter of time until one of you confessed and you guys became an official couple.

However, that time never came. The two of you pussyfooted around the topic of laying bare your feelings, and everyone at The Crux was getting a little annoyed that you were stuck in the pining phase. There was a limit to how long Beidou could tolerate watching you give each other pining glances without snapping and telling you two to get together already.

One time when you were out on an errand, Beidou and her crew invited Kazuha for a drink. The friendly and cheerful atmosphere prompted some members to share their life stories, and the topic breached romance. Someone asked Kazuha why he hadn’t confessed to you yet, and the drunken ronin answered that he treasured your friendship and didn’t want to jeopardize it in case you didn’t feel the same way.

Beidou could only scoff at his excuse. It was so obvious that you liked him back, and since when was Kazuha such a coward? He could go up against the Raiden Shogun’s deadly Musou no Hitotachi, but had his tail between his legs at the prospect of admitting he loved you to your face? Preposterous! Moreover, she had to tell her crew to settle down because they were creating a spectacle out of your crushes on each other and making bets on which one of you would confess first (she betted on you).

If Kazuha was too much of a coward, Beidou thought, then maybe you’d be braver.

That same evening, she happened to find you alone in your cabin and took the opportunity to bring up the issue of your longtime crush on Kazuha. Though she was no expert on romance, Beidou wanted to help you. She got you to open up and confide in her, patiently listening while you expressed your fears about confessing to Kazuha. You also didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him, so Beidou stated outright that he returned your feelings. If you didn’t believe her, then see for yourself.

With that, she pried open a window in the cabin. Over the gentle lapping of the waves, you heard the crew’s laughter up on the deck, and the faint sound of Kazuha’s familiar voice. It was a little difficult to hear what he was saying over the crew’s chatter, and his speech was slightly slurred, but you made out a few words. He frequently spoke your name while reciting a few clumsy haikus. But they weren’t just any random poems about the sea or sky—they were love haikus.

Beidou patted your shoulder and told you to have courage instead of wasting your life wondering about what-ifs and regretting not doing anything.

Over the following days, Beidou sent you and Kazuha out on joint errands in Liyue Harbour. The errands themselves weren’t all that important, but they served as good excuses to give you two some alone time. Kazuha was no fool and quickly deduced that Beidou was setting you two up on purpose, but he wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity to spend more time with you.

Beidou hoped something would finally change by the time you returned, and sure enough, when she spotted you and Kazuha walking back to the ship, she smiled. The two of you were holding hands and smiling warmly at each other, a good sign that your once-suppressed feelings were now in the open. Naturally, the rest of the crew noticed the change as well and grew excited when you confirmed that you and Kazuha were now in a romantic relationship.

That night, they brought out the good wine and food to congratulate you and Kazuha on finally getting together. Most of the Crux’s crew joined on the festivities, with some members being nosy and asking you for details on how it happened and who confessed first.

When you admitted to confessing first, Beidou smugly accepted her winnings and took a big swig of her drink before yelling out a cheer. Her crew followed suit in toasting and cheering much to your and Kazuha’s embarrassment, but it was all in good fun. Beidou made sure to make it up to you by distracting the crew with a drinking game and sending you a wink as she allowed you and Kazuha to make a quiet escape from the party. The Crux gang would have plenty of time to tease you in the future—for now, you and Kazuha deserved to enjoy this newfound relationship without others poking their noses where they don’t belong. Beidou would make sure of it.

🟩 Kinich

Kinich’s relationship with you perplexed K’uhul Ajaw. The Almighty Dragonlord couldn’t pinpoint when it happened, but something between you two changed. Recently, Kinich had been giving you discounts whenever you asked for his help, and sometimes even did things for you for free. Kinich the Malipo giving someone special treatment? Unheard of! And on top of all that, his servant had been visiting you more frequently during downtime, and there was also that strange glint in Kinich’s eyes whenever he looked at you, something akin to endearment—

Oh.

Kinich liked you.

Oh, this was going to be good!

Ajaw’s diabolical nature wouldn’t let him keep Kinich’s feelings for you a secret. The next time you came to hang out with their duo, the saurian waved his little stubby arms and ran his mouth as soon as you were within earshot. “Hey, human! Our lowly servant has developed romantic feelings for you like some sort of prepubescent schoolboy! Isn’t that a riot?” and cackled, thinking Kinich would be thoroughly humiliated and put in his place.

To Ajaw’s dismay, instead of looking disgusted by the news, you appeared… hopeful? A tad surprised by his outburst, but was that hope shining in your eyes? To Ajaw’s even greater dismay, Kinich lacked any sort of outward reaction to having his crush on you vocalized so brazenly. Instead, the saurian hunter told you to ignore Ajaw’s nonsensical words in his usual calm manner, before smacking the pixelated menace away for a timeout. Right before he got locked away, Ajaw managed to catch a glimpse of disappointment in your eyes when Kinich brushed the situation aside as if it were nothing.

That day, K’uhul Ajaw realized that Kinich’s feelings were not one-sided like he originally thought. You liked Kinich too. The mere thought of you two acting all lovey-dovey with each other was sickening, but the saurian figured poking fun at you and Kinich would be a good source of entertainment.

After that day, Ajaw became even more insufferable. Every chance he got, he’d swoop in with a taunting remark and make fun either you, Kinich, or both.

One time while accompanying Kinich through a dense forest, you slipped on a wet tree root and were sent falling towards the ground. However, Kinich swiftly caught you and pulled you to his chest to help stabilize you. Ajaw had a field day laughing and crowing about how scandalous you were for practically throwing yourself at Kinich like that. Were you that desperate to be in his arms? Disgusting!

The saurian also used every opportunity he could find to reveal all of Kinich’s secrets to you. Did you know Kinich gave you special treatment? No? Are you blind?! Can’t you tell he does stuff for you for free? Why do you think he brings you game and wild berries free of charge every once in a while--to show off how good he is at hunting?! Have you at least noticed Kinich smiled more and acted softer towards you, or are you really that blind? He doesn’t treat anyone else that way, you know! …And so on and so forth, though most of his attempts to out Kinich are interrupted by the man himself locking Ajaw away before the dragon reveals too much.

As fun as it was to watch your pair’s awkward attempts at showing signs of affection for each other, Ajaw eventually grew frustrated with standing witness to the mutual pining that never progressed anywhere. It made the little saurian’s blood boil with annoyance.

Whenever he and Kinich were alone, Ajaw would complain that the hunter should stop being a dimwit and a coward and just confess to you already! How could he not see that you obviously liked him back?! Seriously, how bad was his luck to end up with such an imbecile for a servant?!

Kinich coolly rejected Ajaw’s insistence for confessing his feelings. It was not in his nature to recklessly rush into the unknown—he needed to carefully analyze and weigh his options before coming to a sound decision. As such, his relationship with you was not to be rushed. This didn’t sit well with Ajaw, but no matter what he said, Kinich stubbornly refused to listen.

The Dragonlord’s patience reached a breaking point during one fateful day. It was getting dark, and Kinich had offered to escort you home. Once you were safely at your doorstep, you made the bold move of kissing Kinich’s cheek in thanks. For a split moment, Ajaw swore there was palpable romantic tension between you as your and Kinich’s eyes met (gross). Kinich glanced at your lips, looking as if he wanted to lean in and kiss you (doubly gross) and Ajaw prepared himself to make disgusted gagging noises, except… nothing happened. With a seldom seen blush on his cheeks, Kinich awkwardly cleared his throat and bid you goodnight, preparing to leave.

Ajaw exploded.

“This is painful to watch! You two were clearly made for each other—both equally cowardly and blind to each other’s feelings! Just admit you like each other already; you’re not fooling anyone! Kinich, you cowardly, brainless, insufferable insect—just lean in for that kiss, you obviously want to! And you! Stop waffling and just spit out that you like Kinich already! Agh, watching you two is torture! What did the great K’uhul Ajaw do to deserve this fate?!” he yelled, turning red in the face.

Kinich promptly locked Ajaw away, for which the saurian would later chew him out once he was free, but not before interrogating you and the hunter about whether you finally confessed. Once Kinich revealed that yes, you had talked it out and admitted your mutual feelings for each other and were now in a relationship, Ajaw could finally feel some sense of peace regarding the situation.

Feeling proud of his contributions, Ajaw puffed out his chest and told you and Kinich to pucker up and kiss his feet in worship, for only with the help of the Almighty Dragonlord K’uhul Ajaw has your relationship progressed instead of stagnating like swamp water.

Though the saurian relic continued to be an annoyance, even Kinich had to admit that Ajaw played a part in getting you together. Though not in the form of worship or foot kissing, Kinich did repay the favor by procuring some quenepa berries and other fruits that Ajaw liked, hosting a small feast as a thank you. Though Ajaw complained about being scammed, the snacks did the trick of improving his mood and keeping him occupied while you and Kinich had some precious time to yourselves.

🦇 Ororon

Ever since you and Ororon were children, Citlali observed that the two of you got along well. So well, in fact, that Ororon had developed a little crush on you. He would pluck flowers from a nearby meadow to give you, follow you around like a loyal puppy, and one time, Ororon told Citlali that he hoped to marry you one day.

Citlali couldn’t help but find Ororon’s crush on you adorable, and a part of her anticipated the day when you both grew up and got married. She had no doubt you would make the sweetest couple among the Masters of the Night-Wind.

Ororon’s attraction to you persisted into adulthood. At that point, Citlali could no longer call it a cute little crush— “Love” was a more apt description for how Ororon felt towards you, even if he tried to hide the depth of his attachment to you. He was content to stay as just your friend and not risk ruining the close bond you had in case you didn’t return his feelings. Citlali was a little frustrated that Ororon continued to pine for you without doing anything about it, but she knew better than to force the stubborn boy to do something he didn’t want to. If you were both happy with the way things were, then why change them?

However, during one of her rare trips to the market for some divination supplies, Citlali overheard a conversation between two tribespeople. The topic of conversation was about love, and one of the men bashfully admitted that he thought you were pretty and that he hoped to ask you out on a date soon. This news washed over Citlali like a bucket of cold water as worry seized her heart.

This wasn’t the first time others had expressed romantic interest in you. After all, you’ve always had a bit of a reputation among the Masters of the Night-Wind for being attractive, so it wasn’t surprising others had an eye on you. However, now that you were an independent adult, it wouldn’t be strange for you to look for a partner to settle down with, right? Knowing Ororon, the dimwit wouldn’t ever think to confess, and what if someone else confessed before he did and stole your heart?

Citlali didn’t want to force you to choose Ororon, but she didn’t want things to end without her beloved grandson at least taking a shot at winning you over. The last thing she wanted was for Ororon to be left heartbroken and disappointed all because he let the chance to be with you slip from his fingers.

With these troubled thoughts, Citlali sought out Ororon and announced that he needed to stop dawdling and actively pursue you unless he wanted to watch your heart get stolen by somebody else. Citlali’s sudden proclamation confused Ororon, so she explained that he’s not the only one who is in love with you and that there’s a risk of you choosing someone else to spend your life with.

As she expected, Ororon stubbornly refused to go along with her urging, saying that who you wanted to end up with was your choice and he would respect it. Though he said that, Citlali could see it on Ororon’s face that the mere thought of you falling for someone else hurt him, and she couldn’t help but feel bad for her grandson.

After much convincing and reassurance, Citlali got Ororon to agree to court you and promised to come up with a plan to help him in this endeavour. There was, however, one major problem: how were two socially awkward outcasts supposed to win someone’s heart? Having never been courted herself, Citlali had no past experiences to draw from when designing her plan, but it shouldn’t be too hard, right? She’d read a lot of romance novels imported from Inazuma, so maybe if she got Ororon to do some of the same things the male leads did, then it would curry your favour? Regardless, it was worth a shot.

The plan was for Ororon to prove his worth as a suitable partner by giving you gifts, compliments, and always being there for you no matter what it was. In Ororon’s opinion, he was already doing all of these things for you as a friend, but Citlali insisted that his actions needed to be infused with romance to distinguish them from gestures of friendship. Her grandson was still reluctant to actively court you, but he had promised to try and try he did. Except, his approach subverted Citlali’s expectations.

When it came to giving gifts, instead of presenting jewellery, woven scrolls, or useful gadgets, the young man gifted you game he had caught in the wild and the best selection of produce from his garden. Citlali could only facepalm when Ororon told her which gifts he planned to give you, but she also knew he put genuine thought into them. Ororon handpicked the nicest veggies he could find in his garden and personally delivered them to your doorstep instead of sending Ifa like he normally would. Citlali told him that giving gifts in person held more meaning, and Ororon appeared to have taken her words to heart.

Ororon also gifted you flowers much like he did when you were little. However, this time he didn’t give you flowers plucked from the wild. Instead, he gifted you potted plants that he had also grown in his garden. “They will live and look pretty for longer,” he told you, then received a flick to the forehead once Citlali found out what he did.

His compliments were no better. Saying things like his vegetables grew better whenever you visited his home and spoke to his plants or your presence being calming for the aphids, was the best Ororon could do. Citlali admonished him for these strange compliments, but to Ororon, that was the highest praise anyone could receive. After all, you were an amazing person, and even his plants and aphids sensed it.

Ororon’s courtship was unconventional to say the least, and granny Itztli worried whether her grandson made a favorable impression on you. To help improve Ororon’s image in your eyes, Citlali sought you out more often to put in a good word for her grandson and get you to see him as a man. She highlighted Ororon’s good points to you, commenting how Ororon is a bit peculiar, but he’s also kind, resourceful, accepting, gentle, and so much more. A truly good kid. He would make an excellent romantic partner, wouldn’t you agree?

Her pushiness flustered you, but it also allowed Citlali to gauge how you felt about Ororon, and she had to contain her excitement when she pieced together that you loved him back. In her giddiness, she urged Ororon to confess.

When the day of the confession came, Citlali hid among some trees while keeping an eye on you and Ororon. She didn’t intent to spy, but the anxiety over how the confession would go made her antsy and she couldn’t sit still at home. She watched as Ororon offered you a basket of his finest produce and finally professed his love. The confession came out awkward because he tried to recite what he practiced with Citlali a few days prior, and he seemed to realize this because Ororon then took your hand and placed it against his chest. Using his own words this time, Ororon explained that he genuinely did love you, and the racing of his heart should be proof enough that you were more than just a friend in his eyes. However, it was alright if you didn’t feel the same way about him.

Citlali had to clamp her hands over her mouth to hold back from squealing in giddiness as she watched you reciprocate Ororon’s feelings. She would later apologize for spying since she knew it was wrong, but it filled her with joy to witness the blossoming of love between you. In some ways, this was better than any romance novel she had read in all her years of living, and it warmed her heart to see you both so happy.

Even if it was a childhood fantasy, perhaps Ororon’s wish of marrying you was not that far off now? Citlali certainly hoped so.

☂️ Wanderer

Nahida was no expert on romance, but she had observed enough couples during her 500-year-long imprisonment to know what romantic attraction looked like. The strange air surrounding you and Wanderer must have been that, she speculated, as she watched Wanderer hand you a box of your favorite foods with the flimsy excuse of having made too much. For your part, you seemed genuinely touched by the gesture despite Wanderer’s grumbling, much to Nahida’s delight. Wanderer’s prickly personality pushed some people away, but not you. You stayed by his side and gave him the companionship he needed, helping Wanderer open up and heal from his trauma.

It was clear you deeply cared for the young man, and a little peek into your mind confirmed to Nahida that yes, you did love him romantically. She couldn’t read Wanderer’s mind since he blocked all her attempts to do so, but she didn’t need mindreading to conclude that he loved you too.

When she next spoke with Wanderer, she carefully asked if he loved you. Wanderer’s response was a gruff “No” and “Stop asking”, however Nahida could tell he wasn’t being honest with his feelings. If he didn’t love you, then why did he treat you differently compared to everyone else? His manner of speech is gentler when with you, and despite all his grumbling he still complies with all your requests no matter how irritating he may find them. Not to mention, he spends most of his free time in your company, goes out of his way to make you little gifts and cook your favorite dishes. Surely all these behaviours were proof that you were someone special to him?

Being effectively cornered, the puppet had no choice except to come clean about his hidden feelings. With scowl and a blush on his cheeks, Wanderer reluctantly admitted that yes, he likes you, but it was none of Nahida’s business and she’d better stay out of it.

Despite Wanderer’s warning, the Dendro Archon wanted to help get you together. She felt confident that if both of you put in a little effort, a beautiful romance could blossom between you. Still, she didn’t want to outright reveal your feelings for each other. She believed that each of you should relay these intimate feelings yourselves. All Nahida would do is give you a gentle nudge in the right direction.

To help her with this task, Nahida sought help from a few Aranara and asked them to keep an eye on you and Wanderer and report any meaningful details that could help her bring you together. Through her little helpers, Nahida learned the full extent of Wanderer’s affections for you, and she couldn’t help but smile at how sweet he was, especially when it came to you.

Using this acquired knowledge, the Dendro Archon frequently brought up Wanderer in your conversations with her to explain the thoughtfulness behind some of his gifts and words. For as frank as he usually was with people, Wanderer was more close-lipped about the true extent of his feelings, so Nahida had some work cut out for her in making you realize how much he truly cared about you.

For example, the next time Wanderer gave you your favorite food with the excuse that he’d made too much, Nahida revealed to you that he actually spent several days perfecting the recipe before finally giving the dish to you.

That hand-made bracelet he gifted you, saying he got it for free during an arts and crafts event he visited? Wanderer actually made it himself during that event and used beads of your favorite colors. The Aranara watched him spend a lot of time crafting that bracelet with the greatest care, but Nahida left that part out.

In addition, she would subtly drop hints for you to invite Wanderer to hang out more often. For example, the Zubayr Theater was hosting a play and Nahida heard there was a discount if you bought two tickets. Why don’t you go and invite Wanderer to come with you?

As for Wanderer, she discreetly told him that you once mentioned wanting to try out a new drink at Puspa Cafe but had nobody to go with, so why not be a good friend and take you there himself? Wanderer initially objected, but ultimately caved in and invited you to the Café while commenting that a certain annoying sprout said you wanted to try a new drink there, though deep down he glad for the opportunity to spend more time with you. Nahida could tell by the way Wanderer went out of his way to spoil you that day, buying you anything you wanted and keeping you company until the sun set.

Little by little, Nahida softened Wanderer towards the possibility of being in a romantic relationship with you, and helped you gather the courage to confess. Wanderer was unlikely to ever confess first, so the responsibility rested on your shoulders. She could tell you were nervous about laying bare your feelings, but she reassured you that things would go well. You only needed to take that leap of faith.

When you finally confessed, Nahida and the Aranara secretly observed the scene from behind a nearby corner, curious to see how things would go while also quietly cheering you on (not that you knew). When a flustered Wanderer accepted your confession, Nahida was overjoyed. She had fun guiding both of you towards this moment, but the satisfaction of knowing you could finally be together the way you always wished was rewarding in its own way. Even when Wanderer later confronted her about spying on you during your confession and scolded her for it, the little Archon’s happiness didn’t wane. She looked forward to seeing what your newfound relationship would blossom into, and had no doubt it would be something beautiful and pure, just like your love for each other.

👁️‍🗨️ Cyno

It was no secret to Tighnari that you and Cyno liked each other. He had known about your mutual crushes as far back as your student days at the Akademiya where you first met. You became fast friends with him and Cyno, but Tighnari couldn’t help but think Cyno was a bit more special to you than you let on. After all, you were one of the few who wasn’t intimidated by Cyno’s perpetual stern facial expressions and actively sought him out, and who actually laughed at his lame jokes.

Tighnari also knew about Cyno’s crush on you since his friend confided about it to him. Not that Cyno needed to say anything because Tighnari could see his attraction to you clear as day. Cyno’s eyes lit up whenever he saw you in the distance, he tried to act “cooler” in your presence in an attempt to impress you, and Tighnari swore that if Cyno had a tail, it would have wagged like a dog’s every time you laughed at his jokes.

Though he knew about your mutual romantic attraction to each other, Tighnari didn’t want to stick his nose into your love lives. He figured you guys would resolve everything yourselves in due time.

However, nothing changed even after you guys graduated. Your group remained close friends and saw each other regularly, but Tighnari was starting to lose his patience with how you and Cyno hopelessly pined for each other. He had already lost count of the number of times each of you came to him for advice on how to win the other over.

Cyno asked Tighnari’s opinion on a lot of things: Would you like his newest joke? Would you be okay with Cyno volunteering to be your bodyguard for your upcoming desert excursion? Which of his limited edition TCG cards best represented you? Cyno wanted to express how much you meant to him by giving you a card that reminded him of you.

You were no better. Tighnari had lost count of the number of times you approached him with questions about Cyno’s work schedule. Your excuse was that you wanted to plan hangouts with him, Collei, and Cyno during their days off, but Tighnari knew there was another reason why you asked about Cyno’s schedule in particular. He had half a mind to tell you to ask Cyno yourself because it was obvious that you just wanted to spend more time with the General Mahamatra. You also pestered Tighnari with questions about Cyno’s TCG deck. Much like his friend, you wanted to express your appreciation for Cyno by giving him cards he didn’t have yet.

Seriously, you two were a match made in heaven…

Tighnari would have found your mutual crushes on each other endearing, if only he wasn’t stuck being the middleman. As it stood, Tighnari wanted nothing more than to throttle both of you for pussyfooting around your feelings and getting him caught up in being your messenger. He was on the brink of snapping and sitting you both down to explain that your feelings were mutual, so just hurry up and get together already.

That’s why the next time Cyno approached him with another question about you, Tighnari took the opportunity to convince his friend to confess. He and Collei assured Cyno that you liked him a lot, and urged him to tell you his feelings. Cyno was hesitant but did seem to want some closure about whether you liked him back or not, so Tighnari gave him an incentive. How about the next time he played TCG with you, you guys set some stakes? Why not have a rule that the loser must tell the winner a secret? If Cyno lost, he would have to confess.

Cyno wasn’t fond of the idea initially, but agreed after some contemplation, acknowledging that this method would be effective in giving him that necessary push. Still, Tighnari could tell Cyno was nervous about confessing, so he volunteered to come along as moral support, much to Cyno’s gratitude.

That was how Tighnari and Collei found themselves at Puspa Cafe, sitting a few tables away from you and Cyno, hidden from your line of sight. Tighnari tutored Collei while Cyno played that fateful round of TCG against you, but the Forest Ranger kept a close eye on his friend. Though he didn’t want to get too invested in Cyno’s love life, even he couldn’t help but grow anxious as he watched the TCG match end with Cyno’s loss.

Although Tighnari was too far away to hear what Cyno was saying, he could tell the moment of confession had come. Now, the ball was in your court.

You looked stunned by whatever Cyno said, but soon smiled and said something that made Cyno mirror the happy expression on your face and reach out to hold your hand. Though he couldn’t hear, Tighnari knew you had reciprocated his feelings. Even Collei quietly fawned over how cute you both looked. It had been a long journey, but he was truly happy for his friend. Out of everyone, Cyno was happiest with you, and Tighnari hoped you would continue to make him happy for many years to come.

With everything ending well, Tighnari beckoned Collei and discreetly left the cafe before you or Cyno noticed. As happy as he was for you guys, he dreaded the possibility of Cyno coercing them into a TCG match. With how elated his friend must be right now, it was only a matter of time until Cyno called him and Collei over for a new game to celebrate you accepting his feelings. In Tighnari’s opinion, you guys deserved to have some proper time to yourselves to explore your feelings and new relationship without him and Collei serving as thirdwheels. That, and he just really didn’t want to sit through another hour of watching Cyno show off for you.

[tayraedoll]

The Devil at Play

You are a new sinner at the hotel; you are shy but you finally open up after a couple drinks at the bar. Angel Dust steers the conversation to his favorite spicy topic, little do you know there is someone else who is intently listening in.

My first attempt at a Lucifer fic! Let me know what you think <3

Word count: 3,824

18+ MDNI

TW: Alcohol, swearing, drunken shenanigans, sharing a bed, use of s3x toys, rose suction stimulator, fingering, fluff

"Say, is that a mirror in y'er pocket? Cuz I can see myself getting in y'er pants", Angel seductively wagged his eyebrows at Husk, making the feline roll his eyes and take another swig from his bottle.

You smiled into your second cosmopolitan, trying to suppress the giggle that wanted to bubble up. It had been two weeks since you joined the Hazbin Hotel crew and you finally felt comfortable enough to join the others for a drink at the bar. You were never the most social person in life, and that trait followed you into the afterlife. You had spent most of your nights by yourself either in your room or in a quiet part of the hotel like the library. You didn't have anything against the other residents, you were just super self-conscious in social situations. But you were determined to befriend the others and took the leap to finally put yourself out there a bit.

Charlie was definitely the easiest to be around, her bubbly personality made you feel at ease. You also did not have to talk much in her presence, the girl spoke a million words a minute which allowed you to largely just sit there and listen to her rambling. Vaggie was also alright, she wasn't nearly as talkative as her girlfriend but she had a calmness about her. Niffty and Husk mostly just ignored you, they'd briefly acknowledge your presence before getting caught up in their own worlds again. It took a few days for you to warm up to Angel Dust, his crude humor initially made you uncomfortable. But he saw how truly uneasy you were so he never directed those remarks at you which helped tremendously. Now, you were just as content in his presence as you were Charlie's. You honestly stayed clear of Alastor when you could, alarm bells would blare in your head when he was around and your stomach would flip nauseatingly. He was definitely outwardly sweet, but your gut told you not to trust him so you vowed to keep the deer demon at arms distance.

The only resident that you just could not get a read on at all was the King of Hell himself. Lucifer was always so distant, you couldn't recall a single actual conversation shared between the two of you in your entire time at the hotel. Although he didn't necessarily make you feel unwelcome, you did not think he was particularly fond of you either. Part of you wanted to confront him, ask him what his problem with you was; but the other part of you figured the only thing worse than the Devil's cold shoulder would be his wrath. Unwilling to risk angering the fallen angel, you resigned yourself to the act of pretending the other person didn't exist.

'God he was pathetic, two weeks have gone by and he still hadn't mustered the courage to talk to you!', Lucifer thought to himself. Every time he took the initial step to finally strike up a conversation he would inevitably psych himself out of it; he was afraid of coming off weird or worse- desperate. The Devil used to be a smooth talker, but Lilith walking out on him wreaked havoc on his self-esteem. Now, it seemed all he could do is watch you from afar, perpetually tongue-tied and timorous.

He swirled his whiskey around in the glass, watching the amber liquid intently as he tried to come up with yet another reason to talk to you. He sighed heavily, maybe he should just go to bed instead and save himself any more embarrassment.

"So Whispers," Lucifer perked up at hearing Angel's nickname for you, he thought it was positively adorable, "what does it take to make you scream?" Lucifer nearly choked on his whiskey, struggling to stifle his cough in his jacket.

You felt your face heat up, you swished your cosmo before downing the whole thing in one gulp. The alcohol in your system was making you more brazen, with a determined hum to yourself you set the glass back down with a little more force than necessary before turning to face the pornstar.

"You know what? I don't think I ever have. I think that is just some ploy pornos use to make sex seem better than it actually is", you smirk at the stunned look in the spider's eyes, his jaw practically unhinged with how low it dropped.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa timeout here Whispers! Are you tellin me you ain't ever orgasmed before?!", Angel narrowed his eyes at you, trying to detect any hint of deception.

"No- I mean I have! It's just...it's never been like what porn makes it look like! You know- like the 'can't walk straight, seeing stars, and brain won't function anymore' kind. In reality, it's a lot more subtle than that. That's all I'm saying", you shrug and look around the bar to escape Angel's look of complete horror. Your eyes find Lucifer's across the bar- he is staring right at you with such intensity you felt his eyes bore right into your very soul. You swallow dryly and turn back to Angel, his aghast expression was much preferable to Lucifer's fierce staring contest.

"Sweet Satan Babycakes, I don't think you've EVER had GOOD sex before! Don't worry, we will fix this! I will get you set up with an online dating profile and we will get you laid by the end of the week", Angel reached for your phone- which you were thankfully able to grab first you shuddered to think about what the pornstar would write for a dating profile.

"Thanks Angel but I am not really wanting to meet anyone right now. Besides, I promise you I am more than capable of taking care of myself", you shoot him a wink. "I'm off to bed, goodnight everyone!" After the resounding chorus of 'goodnights' from the other guests you make your way to the stairs, completely unaware of the yellow eyes that followed your every step until you were out of sight.

An hour later you were freshly showered and changed into your comfiest PJ's; you were about to get into bed when there was a knock at your door. You sighed heavily, you swear if Angel was at your door with a picture of a dude on a dating app you were going to to shave all of fluff right off. Half-stomping to the door you open it roughly, "Angel really, I'm ser-". Your eyes became wide as saucers, it was not Angel at your door as you expected but Lucifer himself. "Uhhh...what can I do for you Luc- I mean your majesty?!" Heat spread throughout your face and neck, no doubt you were tomato red right now.

"Luc-ifers f-fine sweet-art", he slurred back. You raise a brow and appraise the Devil before you; he was utterly disheveled- his shirt untucked, vest and tie pulled open, hair a wild mess like his hands kept running through it, and his eyes were completely glazed over. The angel was completely shit-faced and standing at your door in the middle of the night- great. But WHY was he here? And did he really need to get absolutely hammered in order to talk to you? Your smile faltered, that thought stung more than you cared to admit.

"Sooo uhh Lucifer, is there something I can help you with?" you cock your head to the side questioningly.

The blonde beamed at you with the brightest smile, your heart becoming a puddle in your chest at the sight, "Yes! Y/N, would you do me the date of going on an honor with me? Wait-what?"

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped you, he was too stinkin cute, "Maaayyybe we should revisit this conversation tomorrow when you have sobered up."

"NO!", he suddenly wrapped his fingers around your shoulders, you let out a gasp of surprise as you stared into his wild eyes. "I-I'm so sorry. You're right, I just...don't know if I'll have the courage to." Your heart broke, he looked close to tears and was having a hard time looking you in the eyes. "I've been trying to talk to your for weeks...I'm such a coward", he sniffed and moved to pull away from you, however, you were quick to grab hold of him and wrap him in a tight hug.

"It's okay, I have a hard time talking to others as well. That doesn't make you a coward", you feel him wrap his arms around you in return, you vow to hold him for as long as he needed.

After several minutes he shifted more of his weight onto you, making you stumble and readjust so neither of you fell. "Hey Lucifer?", you were met with silence. "Lucifer!", this time you got a small snore. Fantastic, now he was asleep practically on top of you. Now what were you supposed to do about this? You looked around, no one was in the hallway, likely everyone had gone to bed already. You sighed, you were not strong enough to carry him up three flights of stairs to his room, nor could you just leave him on the hallway floor. Your only liable option was to bring him into your room and share the bed, it was at least big enough that you could share it without needing to touch each other.

You half-dragged/half-carried the King of Hell to your bed and set him on the edge. You took the time to remove his shoes before tucking his legs under the covers and bringing the comforter up to his chin. He had a soft smile on his face, it was the first time you had ever seen him look peaceful. You smiled at him for a moment, "Goodnight Lucifer", you whispered. Your feet padded softly on the floor as you tiptoed to the other side of the bed, carefully slinking in so you wouldn't disturb his majesty. With a final glance at the angel beside you, you let your consciousness drift into dreams of yellow eyes and warm hugs.

Lucifer grumbled unhappily, pushing his face further into his pillow in an attempt to block out some of the light seeping in through the window. He just became aware of the pounding headache behind his eyes, Satan why did he drink so much?! Okay yea, perhaps the 4 whiskey sours he chugged before running to your room were a bit much...WAIT. He froze, memories suddenly crashing back into his mind. HE. HAD. COME. TO. YOUR. ROOM. Yellow eyes flew wide open- the baby blue comforter, the Verosika poster on the wall, and the side table full of make-up, perfume, and lotion were DEFINITELY not his. He slowly picked his head up and his breath caught in his throat- he was on top of you, hugging you koala-bear style, and what he thought was the comfiest pillow in existence was actually your left breast. HE WAS NUZZLING HIS FACE INTO YOUR BOSOM NOT EVEN 60 SECONDS AGO!

Thankfully, what was left of his lucky stars came together and you were not yet awake to find him in such a compromising position. However, with how he was wrapped around you there was a high chance that he would wake you by moving. Slowly, he extracted his arms from underneath you one at a time; he breathed a sigh of relief when he was safely moved over to "his" side of the bed. Now what? Did he just continue to lay here until you woke up? Would it be weirder if he watched you sleep or if he just left and made you wake up alone? Luckily (the the second time already this morning), his thoughts did not have to spiral for long before you stirred beside him. You groggily blinked the sleep from your beautiful eyes before gifting him with your radiant smile, "Good morning! Sleep well?"

The angel chuckled nervously, golden blush painting his cheeks as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, "Yea, better than I have for a while honestly. Thank you." You both fall into an uncomfortable silence, neither of you knowing where to go from here.

"So uhh.."

"About last night-"

You both stop, giving the other room to speak first which only led to more unpleasant silence.

"Ladies first."

"No, I insist, you first"

Lucifer coughed nervously, "I'm sorry for last night. I shouldn't have come to your room, especially in such an inebriated state. But thank you for not kicking me out or otherwise shunning me."

You gave him a small smile "Well, I couldn't just leave our king alone in the hallway. What kind of hostess would that have made me?" The king chuckled before you continued in a barely audible whisper, "Do you remember what you said last night?"

Lucifer's eyebrows scrunched together as he carded through his memories, trying to figure out what you could be referring to. His eyes went wide before he turned back to you,"Yes!"

You each just stared at each other for a bit, both equally flushed. Finally, you broke the silence, "Yes...you remember?"

"Oh! Golly, I am so sorry! Yes, I remember and YES I would still like to take you out on a date! I-if you would like to go that is...on a date...with me."

Your happy giggle sounded like music to his ears, you gently reached for is hand and intertwined your fingers together, "I'd love to. I mean, technically, we have already slept together", you shot him a wink.

Lucifer gave you a sultry smile, "Ah yes, I will make sure that I am sober next time so I can fully enjoy the experience." You laughed, getting up to collect your things to get ready for the day. Lucifer followed suit, patting around the bed for his phone; when he couldn't find it he reached for the bedside table. Upon opening a drawer he found a peculiar device- it was in the shape of rose with an opening in the middle. Intrigued, the demon king pushed the "on" button and suction took place at the opening.

Lucifer's face turned a brilliant gold when he realized what he was holding. And it was just his luck that you happened to walk back over at that moment.

"So, what's on the ag-", you cut off when you saw your sex toy in the angel's hand; all you two could do was stare at each other- seemed you were doing that a lot lately. To break the tension, Lucifer said the first thing that came to mind.

"Does this make you scream?"

Your mind was blank, all trains of thought came to an abrupt halt when you found THE KING OF HELL with your rose clitoral stimulator in hand. You couldn't comprehend the question he asked, "Er...what?"

"Well I-uh...I remember Angel asking what made you scream at the bar last night and you said nothing. I must admit that I agree with Angel on thinking you have never, ever had good sex if you've never lost composure."

"Oh really? And do you think that YOU could make me lose my composure?", you crossed your arms in front of you and smirked.

The king stared back at you with wide eyes, the beautiful caramel color taking over his face again. You slowly approached him until you were standing just an inch apart, "Show me."

It was like a switch was flipped at your words, Lucifer's hands were on your hips and he began walking you backwards towards the bed. When your legs hit the bed, he raised one hand to gently cup your cheek as he leaned in to leave a tender kiss on your lips. His lips were as smooth as satin and tasted like candied apples; you moaned sensually, which he took advantage of by delving his tongue into your mouth.

Suddenly, his hand still on your hip turned you around so your back was to him. He sat back on the bed, pulling you with him until you were sat between his legs with your back pressed to his chest; you could feel his heart beating erratically, his body hard- hinting at the chiseled musculature that lay underneath his clothing. The king's panting breaths gently rocked you forward; he nuzzled his face into your neck, planting soft kisses on your sensitive skin.

Your hands gripped onto his knees as his hands slowly moved up your sides and fondled your breasts through your clothes, another wanton moan escaping you.

"Oh my sweet Angel, losing control already? I haven't even begun to touch you yet", Lucifer's voice had dropped an octave, deep and rich like barrel-aged bourbon. You pushed your breasts into his hands as her expertly kneaded them. He lightly gripped your shoulders and pushed you forward just enough for him to get your shirt over your head, he took your bra off as well before pulling you back to rest against him once more.

"Now, let's see what other pretty sounds you can make", he turned the suction on at the lowest setting again, the sound of the buzzing toy filling the room. The devil began by moving the toy down your neck and across your collarbone, the slight suction making your skin tingle. As he made his way down your décolleté, your grip on his knees tightened and whimper passed through your lips. The moment the suction caught onto your hardened nipple your back arched almost painfully and your mouth popped open into a perfect "O".

"That's it gorgeous, just relax, let me take care of you."

He increased the suction on your nipple by one setting, his other hand masterfully pinching and tweaking your other nipple. Your thighs clamped together, hips gyrating desperately to get friction between your legs as the heat in your lower belly blossomed. Lucifer returned his lips to your neck, nipping your skin and leaving dark bruises in his wake. You cried out in a half-moan/half-sob, the coil tightening alarmingly fast. You bit down on your lip as you struggled to ground yourself in the overwhelming pleasure.

"Oh no, no, no Sweetheart. No holding back your tempting cries, I want to hear them all", he removed his fingers from your breast to dip a claw into your mouth to free your lip from your teeth. Returning his fingers to your aching nipple, he swirled the same claw that was just in your mouth around the sensitive bud. All the sensations were too much, with a scream, you came undone under his fingers. Your head hit the demon's shoulder as you caught your breath. Did he really just make you cum by only touching your nipples?!

Before you knew what was happening, the rose was moving down your navel towards your waist. You were not sure how or when it happened but you now found yourself completely bare. Instinctively, you attempted to close your knees to hide yourself only to be stopped by two strong legs wrapping around your thighs and forcing them apart.

"That was a fabulous first act Angel, but it's time for the grand finale", Lucifer had not dropped that sultry tone. Your core clenched upon hearing the promise of pleasure in his voice, slick leaking from your needy hole and ruining the bedsheets underneath you. His fingers trailed down your side, tickling your belly, before slipping between your folds. A loud gasp erupted from you as the king lazily circled your sensitive nub, "So wet for me, such a good girl. Are you ready for more?"

His fingers parted your folds, holding your outer labia apart to expose your clit while his other hand held the rose to hover just above your most sensitive spot. You knew it was coming, but a jolt of electricity still rocked your every nerve ending the moment the suction hit your pearl. Your thighs immediately tensed almost painfully, Lucifer's own legs keeping you spread-eagled; a high-pitched trill resounded throughout the room.

"Just like that Doll, keep those gorgeous sounds coming", Lucifer's fingers slid down your lower lips and two digits pushed into you, rubbing along your gummy walls until he found that perfect spot that had your head falling back on his chest again. His fingers set a long, smooth rhythm, brushing that sweet spot over and over again. The squelching sound of his fingers disappearing into your pussy accompanying your cries.

You had lost control of your voice, your lewd moans escaping you completely unbidden as your whole body coiled impossibly tight. Knowing how close you were, The Devil pressed the button to increase the suction just a bit more and the damn finally broke. You came with such a deafening scream there was no way it was not heard throughout the entire hotel. Your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen to your brain, sweat covering you in a thin sheen as you panted. You could officially say you were fucked until you couldn't think straight.

Lucifer set the rose to the side and wrapped his arms around you, rubbing soothing circles up and down your arms as you came down from your high. He planted adoring kisses on the hickies left on your neck and licking up the trails of sweat.

"So, do you still believe that screaming is just some ploy used in porn to fake pleasure?", the angel asked when your breathing finally returned to normal.

You giggled, "I'll admit, that was the best sex I have ever had."

"Oh Darling, you know I am the sin of pride right? There is no reason to inflate my ego like that", you could feel his smile against your skin. You twisted around to face him, pressing your lips to his.

"If I had known you were capable of that, I would have spoken to you a long time ago", you winked.

"Well, now I'm worried that no conversation will live up to your expectations", he chuckled.

"Hmm, somehow I highly doubt that."

At that moment, your stomach embarrassingly decided to join the conversation. Lucifer smiled wider "Do you like pancakes?"

"I could definitely go for some pancakes right now", you nodded.

Lucifer kissed your temple, "I'll meet you downstairs then!" With that, The Devil disappeared into a portal and left you to get dressed. You couldn't help but smile as you replayed the unexpected turn of events. You were really happy you decided to go to the bar last night.

[onepiecestarry]

A Different Kind of Pirate - Part 8

Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while, I went back to school and tbh nobody told me my second year in college or engineering would be this hard (they definitely did). But I’m making it thru! Only two more weeks T-T. But I checked on this story and saw 1.2k reads and never would’ve thought anyone would read this let alone that many of you (literally gonna cry). And I loved reading your comments. So here I am to update! I am sorry it took so long but I promise to actually finish it this time :) XOXO

Fluff, 1.7k words, lots of plot points glossed over from the manga/anime (sorry!)

Zoro x Reader

Masterlist

Part 8: A Samurai and a Florist

The next day you all convene to discuss the plan going forward. As you sit you watch Zoro making your tea, just how you like it, and coming to sit next to you, handing you your tea and placing his free arm around you. You lean into him quietly sipping on your tea while you wait for the rest of the crew. Once everyone was there Kin’emon started.

“We must go to Zou to reunite with your crew and find my friend! We will stop at Zou and continue to Wano after reuniting with everyone.” He exclaims.

The plans continue with the usual mapping and joking around. You all were not worried about getting to Zou, especially with Sanji there first to check everything out.

---- (Time skip past Zou events)

After the long process of getting to Zou, fighting, not fighting, fighting again, realizing Sanji’s gone, and finding Kin’emon’s friend was over you all realized you needed another plan.

“Alright, guys!” Nami yells at everyone sitting in a circle talking to get their attention. “Let's figure this out.” She says with a worried but determined look. “Okay we need to split up, half of us will go with Law’s crew and kin’emon and co. to Wano, and the other half will take the Sunny to Big Mom to get Sanji back, we just need to figure out who.” She explains.

“I’m going to get Sanji,” Luffy says with an unnaturally serious look on his face.

“Count me in too!” Says Brook, Chopper, Usopp, and some Minx.

“Okay, I’ll go with you guys to navigate the Sunny.

“Count me out, I ain’t savin' that shitty cook’s shitty life,” Zoro says leaning back on a tree. “And y/n is coming with me, the celestial dragons can’t get to her on Wano.” You hum in agreement at his statement.

“Alright then I think Zoro, y/n, Robin, and Frankie should go with Law, and we will all meet back up in Wano,” Nami says.

Everyone agrees and we all begin to pack to leave Zou. You become uneasy as you realize you’ll have to work with Law, nervous he’ll be upset about your last conversation. But you quickly shake it off knowing it can’t be avoided.

You get to Law’s ship with everyone else, Zoro is unusually close to you. You look up at him with a confused look as if asking ‘What’s up?’. He just nods over to Law and you nod in response, understanding he’s keeping him away from you.

Bepo showed you and the rest of the strawhats to an extra room you’d be using to sleep while traveling. As you walk in you see two small twin beds and two hammocks, four places to sleep, and five people.

Robin is already making one of the small beds for herself and Frankie and Usopp are getting comfortable in the hammock, so that leaves Zoro and you to the last twin bed. He didn’t even flinch, already on the bed getting comfortable and falling asleep. You giggle to yourself as you push him over to make room for yourself.

----

The days flew by quickly on your way to Wano, Zoro made sure that Law never came close to you, not that you were worried if he did. On the last day, you finally arrived, finding a cove to hide Law’s ship in and hiking up to a remote area to discuss your next steps.

That’s when Kin’emon revealed the reason you all were there, and how he and his friends had gotten there too. To say you were shocked was an understatement, but of course, Zoro had no reaction. You look at him dumbfounded that he's not the least bit confused or surprised.

“What? We’ve heard crazier.” He says nonchalantly.

“Have we?” You cross your arms in questioning.

“No, not at all.” He says leaning back on a rock. You giggle at his demeanor.

Your attention is taken from Zoro as Kin’emon starts to describe his plan.

“We will have all of you go undercover and spread these flyers to anyone with the crescent tattoo on their ankle. This message they will understand. Frankie, you will go undercover as a craftsman apprentice, and see if you can retrieve the blueprints of Kaido’s mansion from your boss. Robin, you will go undercover as a Geisha, your mission is to get close to the Shogun. Usopp, you will be a salesman and you will spread the flyers in the capitol. Zoro and y/n, you both will go undercover together as a samurai and flower shop owner. y/n I am putting Zoro with you to ensure he will not cause trouble as a foreign swordsman.” You giggle at Kin’emon’s comment.

“Hey! I don’t get into trouble… that often” Zoro whispers the last part. You laugh at his defense.

Kin’emon begins to hand out locations of apartments and houses we may stay at as well as stacks of flyers to hand out. Kin’emon then gives you all the clothes and hairstyles to fit in.

---

As you walk through the busy streets of the flower capital you smell all the delicious food stands nearby, watching people rush from building to building, as well as others on a casual stroll. You notice Zoro is beginning to turn in the wrong direction, so to prevent him from getting lost you grab his hand.

“I am not dealing with your directionless ass right now pretty boy, stay with me for the love of-”

“Don’t gotta ask me twice,” he says smirking down at you, making it obvious how okay he is with holding your hand.

You both continue to walk around looking for your assigned house, eventually finding it and entering. You look around at the sad wood falling apart, and the floor with torn mats.

“I guess that’ll make do.” You sigh. “Where’s the beds?” You question looking around.

“You mean bed. And probably a futon in the closet.” Zoro says looking through the cabinets in the kitchen.

You laugh at his correction of you and go to look for the futon, eventually finding it and setting it up with fresh sheets.

“Any food in there?” you yell over to Zoro.

“Nah, don’t think so,” Zoro says back.

“Alright, I guess we’ll have to go out and get some then. You sigh.

You make your way past the kitchen heading for the front door, but before you can take another step you are grabbed by your waist and twirled facing the other direction with Zoro leaning down towards your face, with a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“Where do you think you’re going.” He says teasingly.

“To the flower shop to see what I’m dealing with, and to get some food for dinner.” You lightly hit his chest, giggling.

“Hmm, I’ll come with.” He says letting you go.

---

Once you get to your stall, you realize that it's already stocked with most things you’d need thankfully. Suddenly the woman in the stall next to you comes over to speak to you.

“Hello darling, are you both new in town?” She says sweetly looking between you and Zoro.

“Yes, we are, we just got married and decided to move to the capital from our home village,” Zoro says before you could even think of responding. Realizing what he said, your cheeks flush pink at his words.

“Aw how cute, you two make a great couple, I must say. You will make beautiful children one day I’m sure.” The older woman says innocently smiling at the two of you. You nearly choke on air at her words, but Zoro hides you behind him, thanking the woman while ushering her back to her stall.

He comes back to you stuffing your face in your kimono’s sleeves hiding your bright red face. He lets out a hard laugh, grabbing your face and moving it to look at him, only making you blush harder. You lightly slap his arms away and begin to ready your flower stall as he laughs watching you.

You both decide to return home after “borrowing” some food, as Zoro calls it. You immediately begin to prep dinner when you return, making some rice and cutting some vegetables. Zoro announces he’s going to shower, you hum in response.

Suddenly, you turned around and pressed up against the counter with Zoro’s arms on either side of you. You get flustered at his actions trying to look away. Zoro leans down and whispers in your ear, “Want to join me, wife?” He asks in a deep tone. You freeze at his offer, face flushed with pink once again. He laughs at your reaction and backs off retreating to the bathroom. You quickly return to cutting vegetables to take your mind off it.

You finished making dinner as Zoro exited the bathroom. “Hey, dinner ready, go ahead and sit down. I’ll bring you a-” You stammer as you turn to look at a freshly showered Zoro with a towel barely hanging off his hips, leaving not much to the imagination. You stare for a good few seconds before you realize he’s laughing at you.

You set the small table while he changes, making sure to give him a nice large portion. As he sits down he looks at the food you made.

“Wait is this curry?” He asks excitedly.

“Yeah, I figured it would be easy and filling.” You casually say beginning to eat.

“I fucking love curry.” He says inhaling all of his food. You laugh at him, happy to know he likes the food you made.

Once you both finished, he washed the dishes while you showered. After your shower, you sat on the edge of the futon thinking about the day, when Zoro came in and practically tackled you down onto the bed. Both of you laughing as you recovered.

He grabbed onto your waist pulling you closer as you both go to bed. “Goodnight wife.” He whispers before you hear his soft snores filling the room. You melt into his touch at the thought of how much he loves to call you that, eventually allowing yourself to get lost in the comfort of sleep. 

[cryptid-killjoy]

Babyface was nodding like yeah what she said.

"Exactly."

He meant it though. He had not come to take her away. He'd gotten in the mind set before he stepped off the boat and he made up his mind when he gave Ellie his parting last words of just in case. He had no intentions of making Mazzie leave. He also had no intentions of making any decisions for Ellie. He was done thinking he knew what was best for anyone. That's what fucked things up.

Once both Ellie confirmed neither one of them were there to try and take her away Mazzie's body language started to relax. She still seemed at the ready, but after realizing zombies were on this island now that made sense to Babyface. He was just glad she started to talk to Ellie even if it wasn't to him right off.

"He's at the control center with the donkeys and our Papas."

Babyface's eyes bugged. "You mean the Coachman survived?"

"I didn't say that."

He glanced over at Ellie unsure what that meant.

"You mean? Honest John and Gideon? They're here?"

"Something like that. You'd be surprised who's here."

Mazzie was still focused on what Ellie said. How things went before. It made her stare at Babyface despite them saying they weren't going to try and make her leave.

"The Coachman's not happy with you. He was ready to give it all to you. He wants to know why we would trust you now?"

"I thought you said he didn't survive?"

"I didn't say that." Mazzie spoke stern and slow.

Babyface looked at Ellie more than once. He wasn't always the quickest on the uptake in these situations, but he understood something strange was going on.

A part of Babyface was hoping this conversation would play out a little differently. He was hoping for more wiggle room before he put all his cards on the table. He wasn't even completely sure he understood what was going on, but he decided he didn't care. He knew he made the decision before stepping foot off that boat. It had been in his head for months. If he ever had a do over, he knew what he would do. Here he was with a real do over.

"Look Mazzie, please. I don't know what the Beagle is going on here. I almost don't care. All I know is I wrecked it right up. I want to stay here with you like before. Just like we talked about. I don't want to be a donkey. I want to be like you. I'll stay. I'll take care of it with you."

He glanced back at Ellie with every other statement.

"You know I loved it here. That part doesn't have to change. What can I do to make it up to the island? I just want to stay with you."

That was the most disarming confrontation Mazzie could have been hit with. Several island boys started to pop up out of the candy woodworks as if the island itself understand the ramifications of the conversation.

"You'd stay?"

The half a dozen or so boys began to line up behind Mazzie. She waved a hand downward to stave them off. The island listened to Mazzie.

"Yes." He looked at Ellie again knowing this time around the boys were some extensions of the magic that was the Coachman's wife embodied in this cursed place. It was knowledge they didn't have the first time.

She looked passed Babyface to Ellie. "Is that why you're here too? You want to stay too?"

Babyface hadn't meant to put Ellie on the spot, but to him this was the only way. It was his only regret in his entire life. He didn't regret pulling the trigger, but he sure did regret fleeing the scene. He was so scared of becoming a donkey he left his crew behind.

Every Beagle for himself. Get out alive. That's all he could think at the time. Hindsight after juvie and seeing his mother made him realize there was another role a Beagle could take that was just admiral to the family. It was why he was in juvie. He took the fall. He was ready to take the fall now.

“It was probably some douchebag boy who was sent here,” Ellie said, resolutely. That, she could believe. There were so many here that were ripe for the taking. The boys that would probably come up with a game like ‘Poke the zombie’. Ten points if you get it’s stomach. Twenty points if you get it’s head.

She had her hand on Babyface’s back, the two of them using one another to steady themselves as they looked up at Maz. The hair was definitely a big change and Ellie thought back to the slumber parties that they had - how fun it would be to do something like that again and be girly and cute and braid each other’s hair now that hers was long enough. But that felt like a part of a Oogie-induced lifetime dream now. Making her yearn, making her nostalgic for something that probably would never happen.

All things considering - Mazzie’s reaction seemed fair from her point of view. They had tried to talk to her and Jax until they were blue in the face about how wrong the situation with the Magic Man was. But no words had been able to convince her. That’s why Babyface had did what he did. It seemed kind of foolish now to expect that just because their lives had changed - they had become street kids in other towns, misplaced, an orphan, losing a whole family - that her mind might have.

“We’re not here to take you away,” Ellie affirmed, with a nod of her head, her blue eyes trying to meet Mazzie’s darker ones. “We’ve just - we’ve been thinking about you. And how things went the last time around. And then there’s been this whole zombie epidemic and we had to leave New Orleans and -” She shrugged with a sigh. “It’s been this whole big thing.”

She looked up at the candy-canes again, that Mazzie had been climbing, and then asked one of the many questions that had a hold on her heart right now.

“Where is Jax?"

[void-ink-studios]

Rinse and Spit [Part 6] - A Mouthwashing AU

FINALLY, this chapter is written. Enjoy it y'all, there will be More Development next time.

The dynamics shift on the Tulpar as the crew carries on without a certain shadow. But where does Curly stand in these new dynamics?

And why can't he shake the feeling he's one mistake away from being next?

Content Warning:

PTSD episode is depicted

Word Count: 2,400

Anya had left after tending to his new injuries.  Curly almost found it funny that, by some cursed miracle, he could possibly get more hurt than he already was.

Presumably, she left to speak with Swansea and Daisuke.  That had been a long time ago.  He could hear, even through the heavy metal doors, that they were yelling.  Swansea raising his voice, Anya raising her voice, even Daisuke.

He knew what they were arguing about.

One Captain laid dead.  It was time to decide what happened to the other.

Curly had weighed in his head his chances.  Daisuke seemed to still like him, at the very least.  That’s one vote in his favor.  Swansea, on the other hand, didn’t seem like he’d spit on him if he was on fire.  That’s one vote against him.

That only left Anya.

Anya.  Who he utterly failed every chance he had to be a good leader for.  Who he abandoned to go save her attacker’s hide over protecting her.

He didn’t see the next few hours panning out well for him.

Take responsibility

So all he could do was wait.

And all the while, Jimmy was laying there.  A pool of blood had settled under his head and neck.  The entire room smelled metallic, with the stink of mouthwash mixing unpleasantly with it all.

It was at least easy for Curly to not look at him.  He’d learned to do that very well, not looking at Jimmy.

Instead, he could focus on what he was feeling.  The image of the scalpel so close to his eye burned into his mind.  The feeling of the saw’s teeth in his leg still radiated through his entire body.  The burn of vomit still sat sticky in his throat and mouth.

Maybe he should stop focusing on what he’s feeling.

He couldn’t look at the screen anymore.  He couldn’t listen to its buzzing anymore.

And yet, that’s all he could do.

That’s all he deserved to do.

When had this all gone so wrong?

Was Jimmy always a monster?  Curly didn’t know.  He knew that Anya and Jimmy’s relationship had started to fall apart, even before this hell of a voyage.  He had thought they were just arguing.

“There’s better nurses, you know.”

Jimmy played with the lighter in his hands, flicking it on and off, letting the lid make its little clicking sounds as he stared down at the floor.

“Excuse me,” Curly asked, looking up from the clipboard.  Jimmy had been silent for the entire inspection of the cockpit.  That was okay.  Curly had been doing this for years, he knew what to look for without his help.

“I’m just saying.  There’s gotta be better nurses working for Pony Express, right?  Ones who actually made it into medical school?  I mean, fuck, even school nurses need a degree, don’t they?  How come you don’t request one of those?”

Curly shrugged.  “I mean… It’s Pony.  I don’t think anyone with that much school debt is gonna be working in a dump like this, yeah?”

Curly tried to laugh.  Jimmy didn’t.  Curly clicked the pen uncomfortably.

“Plus, Pony offers medical school courses.  Don’t need a degree if they’re teaching you what you need themselves right?  That’s how you’re a pilot.”

Curly regretted it the second it left his mouth.

“Yeah.  I get it.  I owe it all to you.  Consider me fucking thankful.”

He didn’t look at Jimmy, but he could feel the glare burning into his head.  “...Sorry.  But, why bring this up anyway?  I like Anya.”

Jimmy didn’t respond, just huffed and leaned as far back as he could in his pilot’s seat.  Curly heard the click of the lighter, and Jimmy take a dragging breath.

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“You know there’s no smoking on Pony property.  I’ve told you that a million times now.  It’s my ass they chew for that, you know.”

“You and Pony can bite me.”

Curly sighed, running a hand down his face.

“Look.  I’m sorry for what I said.  My point was Pony gives people chances.  It gave you a chance, and you like being a pilot, right?  So, it’s fair Anya’s got a chance too.  And she’s a damn good nurse.”

Curly finally looked at Jimmy.  He was never really good at reading the man’s expressions.

“I guess.”  Jimmy finally cracked a little bit of a smile.  “I do like being in control for once in my life.”

Curly turned that memory over in his head a lot.  That had to have been a hint.  He should have pushed more.  Should have questioned it more.  It was so obvious.  A red flag he missed.  One of many…

Even lifeless, Curly could feel Jimmy’s gaze burning him.

At least Curly wasn’t alone anymore.

He finally brought himself to look at Jimmy.  The color had completely drained from his face.  His eyes were unseeing, staring at nothing, yet everything at the same time.

He didn’t know how long he sat there until the door opened again.

He couldn’t look.  He wondered how they’d do it.  The ax?  The gun?  Something else?  He didn’t know.  But maybe a selfish part of him is at least glad it’ll all be over soon.

I hope this hurts

“...You got lucky.”

That was Swansea.  There was a sound of a thud, and something dragging over the metal floor.  He finally turned his head to watch Swansea drag Jimmy’s body away.  The older man didn’t look the Captain in the eye.

“Very lucky.”

Curly watched as Swansea dragged the former pilot away, Anya entering soon after.  That’s odd… She already took care of his injuries, didn’t she?  She looked tired.  And sad.

Anya looked at him.  For a very long time.  He looked away.

“...Try to get some sleep, Captain.”

She reached behind Curly’s head, fluffing up the pillow a little before she took her old seat next to him.

Curly didn’t move.  He didn’t look at her.  He tried to breathe as quietly as possible.  Because… Well, if he moved, it might break whatever spell has come over the Med Bay.

Anya was back…

The days carried on like that.  Anya was back at his side.  She wasn’t as chatty with him as she was at the beginning but… She seemed at ease.

You know why.

She carried on with her duties.  She changed Curly’s bandages, cleaned him, and brought him more IV calories… Curly didn’t know how she’d managed that, he had zero faith that Pony would have packed something that helpful. She had something about that, long ago.  Something about how Swansea rigged the fabricator.

She even started chatting with him again.  Just a little bit.  But it was something.  Something to listen to that made Curly feel like he wasn’t just a pile of raw meat on the table.

She even became the one to give him his pain killers.

When she first approached him with a pill bottle, Curly hated how much he flinched.  Anya just looked at him, her eyes full of sadness and regret.

“It’s… It’s okay now, Captain.  I can manage this.”

She was far more gentle in giving him the pills than Jimmy was.  She sat him up, she eased his mouth open, she was careful and delicate with her fingers.  She even gave him a glass of water to help it down.

Curly trusted her.  He knew he shouldn’t, knew he didn’t deserve to feel at ease around her, but he did.  She very easily could have made this all more painful than it needed to be, and she’d have the right.

But she never did.

She set him back down as gently as she lifted him up.  Yet Curly still felt ghosts of hands on his neck.  Of fingers probing the back of his throat.  Of nails digging under his bandages.  He watched her for movement.  For signs of vengeance.

But nothing ever came of his watching.

She read her books quietly.  Listened to her music and smiled.  She laughed when Daisuke poked his head into the Med Bay.  She didn’t tense up whenever the door opened anymore.  She looked happier than even before the crash.

Take responsibility

He wished he could feel as at ease as she seemed to.  Curly heard the metal doors slide open, a familiar, gruff voice filling him with dread.

“Anya, please, take some time to rest.”

“Swansea-”  Curly could see Anya standing a bit behind him.  She looked worried.  She was wringing her hands together, her gaze flicking between the older man and the captain.

“I promise.  You know I’m good for it.”  Swansea had his back to Curly.  He wished he could see the expressions on his face.  Or, maybe it was better he didn’t.

She held eye contact with Curly for a very long time before she finally nodded.

“...Okay.”

The door closed again, Swansea taking a deep breath, before finally turning around.

The two men stared at each other for a long time.  Curly was certain he could hear his own heart beat picking up speed.

“...Anya needs sleep.  You need meds.  I’m filling in for her.”

Please no…

Curly watched as Swansea strolled over to the desk with the pain killers.  He looked at the bottle intensely.

“Paracetamol?  This shit is for fevers.  Joint aches.  You can’t be getting much from this, can you?”

Curly waited a few moments.  For what, he wasn’t sure.  Maybe for him to dump the few painkillers he had down the drain.  Or maybe for him to threaten him.

But it didn’t happen.

“Whatever helps, I guess.  That’s what Anya said.”

Swansea turned back around, a pill in his hand.  His expression looked generally bored.  Maybe annoyed.

I hope this hurts

Curly couldn’t help but start to shake.

Swansea hated him.  Granted, for a good reason.  But Swansea hated him, and was now approaching him with a pill.

“You’re real lucky Anya has a soft spot for you right now.”  He sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his free hand.  “You got us into this fucking mess.  And now we’re taking care of you.  Isn’t it the Captain’s job to take care of the crew?”

I hope this hurts

Swansea was standing over Curly now.

Curly knew what Swansea looked like.  He’d been looking at that tired face for almost 8 years.  He knew what he looked like.  He knew his receding hairline, his full face and thick neck, his pot belly and stocky limbs.

So why did his hair suddenly look longer?  Why did his face and limbs suddenly look thinner?

“Whatever.”

Why did his eyes look so empty?

“I hope these make you fucking feel better.”

I hope this hurts

Jimmy was standing over him.  He was smiling his empty smile and standing over him, reaching towards him.  Of course.  Of course Anya killing him had to be a dream.  He couldn’t escape it that easily.

He couldn’t dodge responsibility that easily.

Take responsibility.

There were hands on him.  A voice talking to him.

No, no, please no…

He flailed his limbs.  It wouldn’t help, it never did, it only ever made things worse, but he had to do something.  He couldn’t go back to this nightmare.  No matter how much he deserved it.  No matter how much he knew Anya’s gentleness was too good for him.  He couldn’t go back.

“...urly!  Curly!  Stop!”

Suddenly he was being held.  Tightly.  A hug?  Anya?

He could smell something metallic, something like oil and sweat.

Swansea…

Curly froze in Swansea’s grip.  The man was hugging him.  Or maybe he was trying to hold him together.

“Are you done?”

Curly couldn’t see his face.  And he wasn’t about to lift his head to check.

“Stop fucking staring at me.”

He couldn’t place the tone in Swansea’s voice.  He wasn’t sure when he got so bad at reading people.  Then he felt the ghosts of hands on his throat.  Maybe he was never good at reading people.

The captain then realized he was asked a question.

Answer the question, you won’t be hit as hard.

Curly nodded, his body still slightly shaking.

Swansea’s grip gently released, an arm moving to support his back to keep him sitting up.  The engineer seemed to be feeling for something.  His fingers traced along his side, feeling his ribs through the hospital gown.

“Jesus…”

Curly didn’t know if he was meant to respond to him.  He usually had to guess with Jimmy, but he at least knew what to expect from Jimmy.

He didn’t know what Swansea would have in store.

Gently, although not as gently as Anya, Swansea tilted Curly’s head back and opened his mouth.  The captain couldn’t help but flinch again.

“Hey.  Curls.  Look at me.”

Curly shook his head.

“Can you look at me?”

Take responsibility

Curly slowly turned his eye to finally look at Swansea.  The man’s expression was harsh but… something seemed tempered.  Softer than before.  Frustrated, maybe conflicted.

“Look, I don’t know what he did to you.  Fucked up shit, probably, if you were freaking out that badly.  But I’m not him.  Yeah, I’m pissed at you.  But I’m not going to hurt you.”

Curly still didn’t move.  The two looked at each other for a long time.

“Can I give you your medicine now?  It’s probably not doing too much, but hey.  It’s something, right?”

The captain waited for Swansea to move.  Get angry.  Say something about how ungrateful he’s being.  To do… Something. 

“Gotta give me a nod, bub.”

Curly hesitated another moment before nodding.  Swansea sighed, nodding back.  He tilted the captain’s head back, gently feeding the pill down his throat, and helping it down with some water.  Swansea wasn’t as delicate as Anya.  But it was probably due more to his broad and callused fingers than… malice.

Swansea set him back down softly, making sure his head reached the pillow.

“Goodnight.  Get some sleep.  Daisuke’s been working on something for you.  Won’t tell me what it is, but says it’s going to be ‘super important.’  Whatever that means.  So… I guess be ready for that.”

Curly was only half listening.  A part of him was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.  For Swansea to say that one last thing to make sure he remembered his place in the pecking order.

But he didn’t.

“...Jimmy’s not here anymore.  You can relax a little.”

And he left.

Curly listened to the static buzz for a long time.  He felt tears stinging the side of his face long before he realized he was crying.

He swallowed the sobs down, even though it hurt his chest.  He clamped his mouth as closed as he could manage, until his teeth hurt.

He had only just gotten this small blessing of peace.

He was not going to ruin it by bothering them anymore.

[slushrottweiler]

As much as I enjoyed the "good" ending of Veilguard, I'll admit it doesn't quite fit my Lavellan's dynamic with Solas. She's just so... nice. So forgiving.

But my Lavellan is ANGRY. And I want Solas to grovel for her forgiveness.

She's so so angry and it hurts so much because she's been angry for years but she can't stop loving him. So I have come up with my own head canon.

It's a mix between the trick ending and the good ending, when Rook, Lavellan and the veilguard crew have to subdue Solas with the fake dagger and only when he claims that mortals can't judge him Lavellan goes, " Well fuck you I know who can" and summons Mythal with Morrigan.

We get the break down and Mythal showing him that he can be forgiven and that the crimes they committed are not on him alone, but declares that he must atone. So she sentences him to be bound to the Veil, to sooth the blight in the Fade as atonement. And he agrees to go.

But all the mortals are like " Ahhhh... we're just sending him away? What if he's lying. He's been lying this whole time."

So Lavellan says she will go. She will be his Jailor. And that's when Solas starts resisting. No, she can't come with him. Where he is going is terrible, he can't trap her with him. But my Lavellan is sick of Solas making decisions for her, sick of him thinking his way is the only way and he is always right. So she cuts herself with the dagger and is bound with him and he's sobbing while they're both dragged into the Fade.

And slowly, over time, whilst exploring the Fade and soothing the Blight; they fall in love all over again. Solas earns back her forgiveness and eventually her trust. They fight the darkest horrors together and he shows her the most beautiful parts of the Fade. And she sees him become that Wisdom spirit she fell in love with. Just better now. So they explore the Fade together, making the world a better place the right way.

[paingoes]

Rubies - Orientation

(Content: living weapon whumpee, recovery, past trauma, past abuse, implied child abuse, implied physical abuse, crying, comfort)

“I want to stay here.”

“You could retire. Haven’t you done enough?”

Delta flinched at that last part. A quick glance up told him Apollo hadn’t meant it that way, but it had still stung in the moment. Not that he could object to it, in either context.

“But you wouldn’t be there,” Delta said softly. “Apollo, I don’t know anyone else. Where am I supposed to go?”

“You’d meet new people. It’s not an island.”

“I want to stay with you.” He placed one hand delicately over Apollo’s wrist and could tell he’d surprised him with the contact. For a second, he thought he’d done something terrible. He’d gotten comfortable enough holding onto Kitty, reaching out for her, but that was her. He shouldn’t have - he flinched -

Apollo sighed gently, rubbing the pad of his thumb in circles on the back of his hand. He had to know what it meant for him, the enormity of what he was suggesting. For Delta to leave. To be alone again.

“It’s your choice,” Apollo relented. “Nobody’s going to force you. Levon’s hoping you’ll stay too. I can tell.”

Delta felt warmer just as soon as he said it.

~

“Yessssssssssss,” Kitty hissed excitedly, practically skipping through the doorway of her room. Theirroom, as she was so eager to point out. “Roomiesssssss!!!!!”

“Just don’t ask her what happened to the last one,” Levon said, holding Delta’s only bag on his hip. It was a light bag. He didn’t need to bring it for him. But they both still insisted that Delta was fragile, that he didn’t need to carry anything.

“She was in love with me.” Kitty said. “It became too much for her.”

“Not how I remember it,” Levon said, placing the bag down on the ground. Delta thanked him quietly, bowing his head, still unsure what to do with himself when the two of them were talking. He tried to go unnoticed.

“You want top bunk?” Kitty asked, foiling his efforts. Her olive green eyes glowed excitedly at the prospect. 

Top bunk. The only memories it called up were of yellowed pages in a brightly lit facility. Children’s books with lives so foreign it might as well have been a different universe. Something soft and playful and totally unavailable to any of them. Summer camp.

“It’s your choice,” Delta murmured, unwilling to commit to any preference, much too scared to overstep. “It’s your room.”

“Our room!” She insisted. Her tail swiped the counter excitedly, knocking most of her things onto the ground.

~

“You can’t tell anyone,” she would say later, down in the caverns, and not to him.

Iza’s crew stared blankly back at her, making Kitty wish that she was here to do it herself.

“I mean it,” she said. “It’s top, top secret. No one can know. And it’s only the three of you, so we’ll know if it gets out.”

Willow was pale and fearful, eyes wide like a doll that had just come to life. “He’s really staying, then?”

“He’s my roommate,” Kitty answered, smiling slyly.

“What’s he going to tell people?” Cass asked. “I mean, he has an accent. Are you going to invent a whole new backstory for him? What’s the plan?”

“Just don’t talk about the psychic thing. If anyone asks, you never met him. OK?” She asked, wondering if she needed to throw in a threat for efficacy.

“Yeah. OK. Whatever.” Cass agreed. “Still think it’s weird that you’re just, like, keeping him around as a pet? Shouldn’t he be in rehab or something?”

“Kitty just wants someone to clean her NEET cave,” Rene said.

Her eyes flickered up. She pushed herself up off the stack of boxes and stalked slowly and deliberately towards him. He tensed — and she only stopped when her face hovered a few inches from his own.

“Take it back,” she said.

“Fucking hell, Kat, I was joking,” he responded, seeming to shrink away, too proud to formally retreat.

“Take it back,” she repeated slower.

“Okay, fine. I take it back. Damn.”

She smiled again, sliding back to her place atop the boxes.

“Not gonna tell, right?” she asked, both ears pressed back in challenge.

~

Delta did end up cleaning, though. He wanted to be useful. He’d gotten in the habit. And the room did need it, truthfully. He hated to touch her stuff without permission. Almost every surface of the room was covered in her trinkets — figurines, dead animals in amber, microcontrollers. He moved them carefully just to clean off the shelves they rested on top of, then immediately replaced them.

He didn’t know if he meant to punish himself doing it, but she had fussed over him when she found him. Secretly, he thought she must have been relieved. It’d been a mess before — and after months without use, it’d only gotten worse. He turned the air filter on for her, obliging her when she told him to shower, to rest.

The top bunk was his, but more often than not he spent the day down on her level. He leaned back against the plaster wall, legs folding underneath him on the soft mattress in a way that still felt deeply unnatural, especially with her next to him. She propped her tablet up on the bed to show him all she was working on. She had been working all throughout the months she was told to do the opposite — and she thought it was important that he know. She’d poached him for IT. He was fine with that. He was so scared he might be useless to them without his powers, scared that without them all he’d be good for was cleaning, drudge jobs, set dressing. He could’ve been a servant if he was trained. But he could’ve been anything if he was trained.

As they came to find out, he knew the basics of most things. He knew a bit of everything, especially about what he was forbidden to know. They blew through the basic courses, but he still wanted firm footing before he had to start. Before he met anyone else.

“You can still rest,” she said, seeing the yawn he failed to suppress, “If we’re going too fast. You don’t have to start right away.”

“I don’t want to freeload,” he said, a bit self-consciously.

“You’ve done enough,” she said, “Galatea would pay your rent for the rest of your life if you asked for it.”

“I wouldn’t ask for that.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t ask for anything, would you?” She teased. He blushed at that. He wouldn’t.

~

It got harder at night. He didn’t know why. He’d spent enough time in that endless, starry void to have adjusted to it. He thought of the port windows just to help him fall asleep.

But it was at night that the fear crept into him — and some deep dread, its mouth yawning, the size of the planet. He paced the halls fitfully at night, still amazed that he was allowed to walk them, amazed they would let him go unsupervised. Theirs was a cavernous base — and he knew the locks for the outer doors. He could walk out whenever he wanted. There was nowhere for him to go, but that nowhere was free to him. 

He opened the door to stare out into the blackness, the point where the gas lights could not reach, the darkness that started right where the trees began. He did not know what he was looking for. A dread. An emptiness.

He clambered up the ladder to the top bunk. He had the same bedding each room started with, then another weighted blanket, a gift. He crawled beneath it, grateful for the warmth, almost able to melt into it. Kitty was still out. He turned all the lights off and he left the window open. When he slept, he pretended he was in a cavern, deep beneath the ocean.

~

His face was wet when he woke up and the room was still dark. He tried to blink himself awake, but his thoughts remained foggy and unalert, his vision slightly blurred. Green eyes hovered close to him, right beyond the wooden cage of the bed.

“Delta?” she said softly. It was so painful. He had never heard anyone handle his name so carefully. He did not move, peeking up at her dark form through the nest of blankets.

“…You were crying,” she whispered.

He winced in shame, almost burying himself further into the sheets. He couldn’t. Weakly, he extended one wrist to her in offering. He just hoped she would get it over with. That he wouldn’t be in so much pain he couldn’t sleep after.

She took his hand gingerly, interlacing her fingers in between his.

“Can I…” She trailed off. He nodded dimly, not caring what it was. She could do whatever she wanted and he never would have stopped her.

She crawled over him, sliding herself in between him and the wall, then beneath the blanket. His eyes widened slightly as she slipped one arm over him, pulling him in closer to her. It didn’t hurt. She hadn’t hurt him for crying. Right. She never did.

“Okay?” she asked softly.

“Mmhm.” He nodded, his mouth still not forming words.

She pressed her forehead in between his shoulder blades, purring a soft rumble that still filled the entire room.

He wiped at his eyes again as the crying started back up. He tried to be quiet, but she didn’t seem to mind.

~

“Do you ever want to talk about it?” she asked over breakfast. 

“…I did talk about it,” he said. “There was a trial. I don’t know if you remember.”

She shrugged, popping the last of the strawberry stem into her mouth.

“Silas is a prick,” she said. “That’s not what I meant.”

He didn’t respond to that, idly twirling the flower petals in between his fingers, still not touching his food.

“Did they hurt you for crying?” she asked when he did not offer it up.

“I never cried much in the first place.”

He was always so quick to defend them still. He knew better than to do it in court, but in private, it was always his first reaction.

“Because you weren’t allowed?” She looked up just to catch him shrugging again. 

After a while, he explained: “I don’t mind that they did. I thought it was childish. I never…had a problem with it until now.”

He wiped his eyes in an absent reflex, though they were dry now. Across the table, Kitty seemed skeptical.

“Is that what they told you? That it was childish?”

“Yeah. It is.”

Trying not to offend her, though he hadn’t seen her cry yet, he added: “It is if it’s me.”

“How old were you when they said that?” She asked plainly.

He didn’t answer. Internally, he was a bit annoyed by the gotcha in her voice. He guessed it showed in his expression, because she stopped pressing at it. Though she showed no offense, he felt guilty in the intervening silence.

“I don’t know how to talk about it,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. No one’s ever asked. I don’t have any practice.”

“You haven’t eaten,” she noticed. 

Reluctantly, a bit chastened, he began to peel at the fruit’s flesh. The pulp tinted his nails red.

“I’m trying,” he said. 

“I know,” she said back. “I’m patient, you know. I waited months to find you.”

He thought back to them. The months spent on the server, his only window to a kinder world. He thought of her on the other side of it. The image of her before had always been dreamlike and immaterial. He had never imagined her in the flesh. He’d have never thought to one day be sitting across the breakfast table from her, with bright fruit against the china and an endless wilderness at her back.

“God fucking damn it,” he said as he felt his eyes begin to water again. She only laughed at his reaction. It wasn’t unkind.

~~~

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @floral-comet-whump @littlebookworm69

@lordcatwich @human-123-person @paperprinxe @whomeidontknowthem @chiswhumpcorner

@bacillusinfection @ichortwine @whump-queen @lumpywhump

@jumpywhumpywriter

[flowersandskeletons526]

"We Need A Tagger" - Warriors Concept Album Fanfic (Part 1/?)

okay so based off some of their interactions on the album, I am of the firm belief that Ajax was the one to recruit Rembrandt. This is my take on their first meeting and Rembrandt's initiation. Enjoy!

-------

Ajax sat at the table in the Warriors’ tiny apartment, holding a crumpled tissue under her still-bleeding nose. Cleon paced the kitchen around her as she muttered under her breath. In the other room, Cochise sat on the couch thumbing through a newspaper beside their newest addition, the stray Cleon found under the boardwalk and promptly promoted to second-in-command. Ajax was still a little sore about that, but Cleon made the argument that her number two needed to at least sometimes remain level-headed and Ajax couldn’t make a valid point against that. 

“For fuck’s sake, Ajax,” Cleon hissed. “When I said I wanted to expand our territory, I didn’t mean you should go off by yourself to annex two blocks!”

“I thought I was on our turf,” Ajax repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. “I swear, Cleon. I wasn’t picking a fight on purpose.”

“This time,” Cochise added.

“Fuck off.”

“If you thought someone was on our turf, you should've gotten us,” said Cleon.

“There were only three of them.”

“And only one of you!”

“Send your assistant on patrols with me if you’re worried about numbers.”

“Hey, fuck you, man!” Swan snapped.

Ajax leapt to her feet and was immediately pushed back into her seat by Cleon. “I made you an enforcer, not a scout,” she said. “You handle the issues the scouts bring in. You don’t go looking for them yourself.”

“We don’t have scouts,” Cochise pointed out. 

“I thought you were gonna talk to your friend that bartends at the Neptune Lounge. The one that’s always wearing that fucking hat.”

“Still trying to convince her.”

“Fuck.”

“We need a tagger,” Swan interjected. “Yeah, we need more members, but that’s just going to cause more problems for us if we don’t mark our borders.”

“For once,” said Ajax, “I agree with the sewer rat.”

“Dude! The fuck!”

“Cool it, you two,” Cleon warned. “Do you have any nominations?”

“I’ll find one,” Ajax offered.

“If you can find a decent tagger that isn’t already affiliated, you have my permission to bring ’em in to talk.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And no more fights!”

So ensued two weeks of fruitless searching for an unclaimed graffiti artist. Ajax went halfway insane with frustration by the end of the first week. Every time she found a new artist’s signature, she went back to report and was met with one denial or another. If they weren’t already running with a crew, it was because they were untrustworthy or had been jumped out of their old gang for some offense and Cleon didn’t want someone else’s scraps. 

Swan volunteered to go out for a few rounds with her. She knew more about the political side of things, Ajax could admit that, and since they’d both promised Cleon that they wouldn’t butt heads, the trips passed by in almost complete science. They were out late one evening, the sun setting over the ocean as they patrolled the boardwalk, when Swan stopped before a massive, impressively intricate and detailed graffiti mural sprayed across the front of a shuttered carnival booth.

She whistled as she looked over the painting. “Damn. Someone spent time on this.”

“There are a bunch of these,” Ajax said, standing beside her. “Talked to some of the carnies, they said the things pop up overnight, they get covered or washed off, and the next day there’s a whole new design.”

Swan hummed and nudged the bottom of the grate with her foot. Where she stepped, in gorgeous swirling script, was a signature. “Rembrandt,” she read aloud. “You tell Cleon?”

“Asked her, asked Cochise, asked everyone. No one knows who the guy is, just that he’s talented and prolific.”

“Well.” Swan shrugged. “Let’s find him.”

Easier said than done. When Ajax said no one knew, she meant no one. No one had a clue because no one ever saw the paintings go up. When Ajax explained her plight to the crew, the only help she got was, “You said you would find a tagger, so go find him.”

This resulted in Ajax walking the boardwalk in the dead of night, listening to the waves and her own footsteps and watching out for the sound of spray cans. Her unlucky streak finally broke one night walking past the abandoned parachute tower. She almost thought she was hearing a gas leak at first, a constant hissing from the other side of the structure. She realized it was spray paint when she heard the telltale rattle of a can being shaken.

Crouching low, she crept silently around the base of the tower. A small, slight figure wearing a respirator face mask held a can in each hand, arms flying as the graffiti artist raced through his work. Ajax watched in fascination as he dropped cans into his backpack and pulled out new colors without ever taking his eyes off his canvas, working only by the light of the moon and the city’s distant glow.

She straightened. She’d found the phantom tagger.

“Yo!” She called. The artist froze as she approached. She couldn’t see his eyes beneath his hood, only the mask. “Let me talk to you for a second.”

The artist grabbed his backpack and a paint can and bolted.

“Shit!”

Ajax took off in a chase after the artist. The little fucker was quick and agile, but Ajax was quicker and knew Coney Island like the back of her hand. “Stop!” she shouted. “I just want to talk!” He only ran faster.

Just as she thought she would run out of steam, the artist turned the corner into an alley. He hit the fence at the back hard and started to climb but Ajax had a major height advantage. She grabbed his backpack and yanked him down. He wheeled around, can in hand, and smashed her square in the face with it. 

He was quick but he wasn’t that strong. Ajax was certain the hit at least chipped a tooth, the taste of blood coating her tongue, but she wasn’t stunned. He tried to dart past her. She spun and snagged a fistful of his sleeve, then threw him backwards into the fence with enough force to knock the mask off his face. She wasn’t proud of it - she was trying to recruit the punk, after all - but her mouth hurt from the hit so she considered it a fair trade.

Ajax stood over the artist. On his ass with his back pressed to the fence, he raised a paint can and pointed it at her like a gun. His hand trembled so hard she thought he might drop his improvised weapon. His hood fell back. She finally got a good look at his face.

Staring up at her was a terrified young woman with the saddest deep brown eyes she’d ever seen. She had a busted lip halfway healed and short, wild curls framing her face. She didn’t even try to act tough; she wore the expression of someone who’d been in a similar position and knew she didn’t have the skill to fight her way out of it.

Ajax was violently aware of how dangerous she must have looked at that moment. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t proud of it.

“I’m not tagging,” the girl said before Ajax could get a word out. “I don’t run with anyone. I’m just painting. I swear I was only painting.”

Ajax tried to make her voice sound gentle. “I know. I know you’re not.” She wiped away the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. “Fuck. You really clocked me. Sorry for throwing you, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I’m not tagging,” the girl repeated. “I don’t-”

“I know! Calm down, I just want to talk. I’m not going to hurt you. Really.” She crouched down to the artist’s eye level. “You’re Rembrandt, right? That’s your signature?”

The girl lowered the can. “Yeah,” she said timidly. 

“Call me Ajax. I run with the Warriors.” She extended a hand to shake. Rembrandt didn’t take it. Fair enough. “You don’t have a crew, right? Did you ever run with one?”

“No.”

“Well, listen, we’re looking for a tagger-”

Red and blue lights illuminated the alley. Police sirens blared. Ajax shot to her feet.

“Shit! Why are the cops - wait! No, no, no, wait! Come back!”

But Rembrandt was already over the fence. Ajax roared in frustration and booked it, knowing she couldn’t risk getting jammed up by the cops again.

Mission failed, tail between her legs, Ajax ran home.

---------

“The artist’s a girl?” Cleon asked, huddled around the kitchen table with the rest of the gang. “Damn. I feel a little sexist now.” 

“Her paintings are amazing,” Ajax said. She was still a little breathless from her sprint back to the apartment. “And she’s insanely fast. No way the cops would ever catch her.”

“Apparently no way you could catch her, either.”

“She was listening to me. The cops scared her. That’s why she ran.”

“Take a breath, you look like you’re going to pass out,” said Swan. Ajax flipped her the bird, and she rolled her eyes. “You said she looked scared out of her mind. What makes you think you’re ever going to catch up to her again?”

“She has a point,” Cochise agreed. “Ajax, you know I love you, girl, but you’re not exactly the most, y’know, approachable person.”

“She was listening to me! If I can go out there again, I swear I can find her and get her to come back here and talk to us. Cleon, come on, have my back.” 

Cleon sighed and hung her head. “Alright,” she relented. “If you think you can get her, then go get her.”

So Ajax went.

She sat beside the unfinished painting for five nights straight. She made sure no one covered it or washed it away, hoping the graffiti artist would come back to finish her work, but Rembrandt never showed. When Ajax returned to the apartment in the morning, she was met with the same simple question: “Any luck?” And she would only shake her head before going to pass out in the room she shared with Cochise. Cleon suggested she call off the search by the fourth night of no results, but Ajax couldn’t bring herself to take a step back and she didn’t understand why. Maybe it was simply a sense of duty to succeed at this mission for her gang. Maybe it was the paintings. Maybe it was the fear in the girl’s eyes and the fact that there was so obviously someone beating on her that made Ajax want to find her so badly. 

Cleon offered to come with on the evening of the sixth day, an offer that Ajax declined. “I don’t want to show up with the crew behind me and freak her out,” she explained.

“Ajax, I really can’t afford to keep sending you out. We’ve got other jobs I need you for.”

“Two more nights. Give me a solid week.”

“You get tonight. And if you can’t find her, I’m calling it off. We’ll find another tagger.”

“Fine.”

“Be safe.”

Ajax wandered the boardwalk for a bit before parking herself in front of the unfinished mural. It hadn’t been touched. She sighed and shoved her hands in her vest pockets. This mission was a fucking bust. Two weeks of searching and a week of waiting around and she had nothing to show for it. It was already past midnight and she hadn’t seen a single sign of anyone being out there with her, let alone Rembrandt. She promised herself that she’d stay until dawn and after that, she would give up and call it quits. Still, it sucked. She hated leaving things unfinished.

She wasn’t sure when she dozed off, only that she woke with a start to the quiet patter of footsteps on the weathered wooden planks. She looked up to see the masked, hooded figure standing a little ways off and staring straight at her. She climbed slowly to her feet and raised her hands.

“I’m not packing,” she promised. “I’m here as a friend.”

Rembrandt removed her hood and pulled her mask down around her neck. In addition to the split lip, she now sported a black eye with a scabbed over cut on her cheek beneath it. She kept her left arm tucked in close to her side like it hurt to move it.

Ajax grimaced. “Holy shit, man. Is that-”

“It wasn’t from you. You didn’t throw me that hard,” Rembrandt said quietly. “What do you want from me?”

“My gang needs a tagger.”

“I’m not a tagger.”

“You’ve got more than enough skill to be one. Look, the Warriors are on our way to running Coney Island but first we need someone to define our borders. You said you just want to paint? We’d give you free reign to put up new murals anywhere you want and they wouldn’t keep getting taken down. And whatever’s going on with this…” Ajax gestured to her black eye, and she turned aside to hide it. “We could help with that, too.”

Rembrandt hesitated. “Why me? I can’t fight.”

“You wouldn’t need to, just need to run. That’s why they have me.” Ajax looked over her shoulder at the unfinished painting. She flashed a smile. “How long would it take you to finish this?”

She thought. “Thirty minutes max.”

“Great. I got your six.” Ajax stepped away from the wall and posted up behind the girl, who frowned quizzically at her. “Seriously. Finish it. Just promise you’ll come back to Warriors Headquarters with me when you’re done. My friend makes a great breakfast and our leader is a lot nicer than I am. She wants to meet you.”

Rembrandt only stared at the warrior. Ajax made a little go on gesture before returning to her watch position. She heard cans rattling behind her and the thud of a backpack hitting the boardwalk, then the hiss of spray paint. She waited a minute before glancing back. 

The graffiti artist had her mask back up over her face but left her hood off. She painted with one hand this time, moving slow, her presumably-injured arm hanging limp at her side. Ajax cringed a little internally. She was right; someone was definitely going after her. She caught a glimpse of Rembrandt’s expression, and despite looking like she’d lost a brawl, the look in her eyes was one of complete, pure, calm joy. She was truly in her element, surrounded by a cloud of spray paint, building the shape of the Wonder Wheel and the parachute tower with layers of a rainbow of colors. She added in tiny cartoon creatures running through the city. Ajax almost laughed. 

She leaned against the tower beside the painting. “You got anyone who’s gonna freak out if they think you’re missing?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Rembrandt replied without taking her eyes off her work.

“Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Any family?”

Rembrandt paused. She turned to Ajax, showing the deep bruise on her face, her eyes downcast as the joy faded and the sadness and fear replaced it. Ajax’s heart softened just a bit.

“Got it,” she said, and faced front again.

The sky was barely beginning to lighten by the time Rembrandt packed up her cans and stuck her mask in her backpack with them. Ajax stood beside her, admiring the painting. “Looks nice,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“So…? Will you come meet with the Warriors?”

Rembrandt shouldered her bag. She shifted her weight between her feet like a little bird ready to take off. Ajax was convinced she might run again and prepared herself for another chase, but Rembrandt buried her hands in the pockets of her hoodie and looked up at the enforcer.

“Who’s your leader?” the artist asked.

“Her name’s Cleon.”

Rembrandt blinked. “Like… like Cleon? Like the Cleon?”

“Yep. The Cleon,” said Ajax. God, the fucking ego boost this was going to give that woman would be astronomical.

“She wants to meet me?”

“Uh-huh. You coming or not?”

“But she’s like - wait, hang on! Yes, I’m coming!”

Ajax led her away from the beach, off the boardwalk and into the surrounding streets. Ajax always kept her head on a swivel, always, and apparently so did Rembrandt. She walked a half step behind Ajax, staying just slightly to the right in case she needed to take off and leave Ajax behind. Fuck, she was flighty. This early in the morning, not many people were out and about yet, but Rembrandt kept her hood up and looked down to hide her face. Ajax waved her hand by her side, and Rembrandt moved to walk directly behind her. She kept stepping on the back of Ajax’s shoes on accident, apologizing profusely each time, but she picked her head up, at least.

Ajax stopped Rembrandt outside the door to the apartment. “Stay behind me,” she said, “and don’t freak out. Cochise is a little loud and Swan’s got major resting bitch face but no one’s gonna go after you. You’re safe here.”

“Okay,” Rembrandt mumbled. 

They stepped inside. Cochise stood over the stove, stirring something in a pan and humming to herself. Swan sat on the couch with DJ Lynne Pen’s show playing quietly over the radio beside her. Cleon was on the phone listening to someone talk and scribbling notes in a small journal. Ajax reached over Rembrandt’s head to shut the door and hollered, “’Sup motherfuckers!” Rembrandt flinched.

Swan looked up with annoyance drawn across her face. “Who are you calling a motherfu-…” Her voice trailed. Cochise and Cleon turned to Ajax. Ajax stepped to the side and gestured to the girl standing next to her.

“Everyone,” she announced with a smile, “meet Rembrandt.”

No one spoke. Rembrandt waved sheepishly.

Cleon said into the phone, “I’ll call you back,” and hung up the receiver. 

“Wow,” said Cochise. “She actually exists.”

Swan stood, staring at Rembrandt’s black eye. “Ajax, what did you-”

“It’s not from her,” Rembrandt interjected. “Um, sorry. Hi.”

Cleon approached. Ajax nudged Rembrandt forward, but the artist backed up into the door instead. Cleon stopped where she was, raised her hands, and offered the same comforting smile that she had given Ajax and Cochise and Swan on all their first interactions. Above all, Cleon could get virtually anyone to calm down and listen to her. 

“Hey, nice to meet you,” she said gently. Ajax watched Rembrandt’s tensed shoulders come down just a fraction of an inch. “I’m Cleon. Rembrandt, right?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Want some breakfast?”

------

And that's the end of the first part! Stay tuned because I am going to continue this

[ii-neg-confessions]

Hello, I only recently found this blog and it finally clicked why everything in ii felt so off to me. So much undertoned bigotry.

I am going to use bullet points about my feelings so I don't go off trail.

1. I like the show but as in "this has potential, I like the concepts, I like the ideas and I like the characters to some extent. I just wish it was in the hands of actual good people and writers." I am not that shocked by the revelation that AE is horrible, I just assumed that was the case, I don't know them irl + when creators become popular they usually become scums (but AE was probably scums on earth way before their popularity.)

2. As a Southern Asian, I felt really weird about candle, especially silvercandle. And reading this blog it started to make sense, she's something about that area's (maybe just Asia in general, I wouldn't put it past AE to generalise the largest continent and all their countries) culture (? I hope i am making sense) and obviously Asia is still a big place and I can't speak for all plus I only watched the shit show of III once so I don't want to have to go through it again just for this point to make sense because you already know how horrid it is.

3. Bomb's character is ass, just an excuse to make fun of speech impediments (pls tell me I wrote it correctly) I don't have anything beyond him about that. So obviously it just feels like ablelism, actually no, it is ablelism. I am not disabled but I am sure that making the only part of a character his disability is not done in good faith.

4. The rep is dogshit. Not even enby and I feel bad for all the rep that gets praised to bits.

5. Weird writing choices, the plot points are alright ig, just wish they weren't written by bigots. (Someone pls rewrite this shitty show)

6. The whole Cabby thing just felt weird like really weird. Why is she antagonised for essentially doing what fan does and having a very valid reason to do it , it's her disability aid(? Maybe I am wrong but I do not respect the show enough to rewatch it)

7. Someone pls save Paper, he doesn't deserve this dog shit DID rep. I hate the implications that people who do face the problem he does are evil like is that the lesson you wanna teach kids? Like especially kids with mental disorders who might watch your show, actually who are watching your show?

8. The excuse of "it's a kids show" is dumb. Kids deserve content that teaches them something actually nice. The excuse that kids don't care about what you show them is exactly why we end up with adults like the meatheads on AE. These things, the shows they watch majorly affect these children. And I don't think a kid should carry the values of a fucking Zionist, and have that subtle not so subtle subtle bigotry in their mind. And obviously it's not just shows which affect them (duh) it's a combination of the media they consume, the adults around them and various other factors but media definitely affects a child's ideologies but I am definitely not smart enough to comment on that.

9. Obviously I am not really mad at a fictional show but I am mad at the very real people with real actions that have consequences, are continuing to be horrible and do not apologise for it.

Uh end note I guess, I hope the people on AE start changing now and if they don't then I hope they die choking on their lunches because they don't deserve to go out with things like murder, bombs, shit that will obviously be used to make you feel bad about them. I hope they get heart attacks and die.

Anyways something positive, to my knowledge, there is only one admin for this and all I gotta tell them is that they are doing great and I thank them.

Glad to be waking up people against this bullshit show and this bullshit crew

also thanks for following!

[agaypanic]

Benny Weir x witch(earth priestess) reader whose discreetly been helping the crew who thinks shes human and unaware; when shes caught using magic its a big “wait you seriously didn’t notice this before?” Moment from reader

Ps love your mbav fics, sad to see some characters are gonna leave your request list soon💜💜💜

Witch Reader With Benny Weir Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

***

You guys probably met through Grandma Weir

Like maybe you’re a granddaughter of one of her friends, and they needed help with something

Lemme shamelessly promo a fic of mine with a similar plot real quick

But anywayssss

The rest of your new friends don’t know that you’re a witch 

“So, how did you and Benny meet?” Sarah asked you as you settled into your chairs. Benny’s friends insisted on him inviting you to hang out with them at a pizza shop in town so they could get to know you. Although they loved Benny, they found it a little hard to believe that he had a girlfriend who lived in a neighboring town and went to another school. “He says you go to another school and all.”

“Yeah, I don’t see how he had the time to meet you when he’s always busy doing…” Erica trailed off, looking at Benny while wondering how to phrase the rest of her sentence. “Geek stuff.”

You chuckled at Benny’s annoyed expression, patting his shoulder before answering Sarah’s question. “We met through our grandmas, actually. Benny’s grandma invited mine over to catch up and do some…” Although you knew about the group’s supernatural identities, you weren’t sure if Benny had disclosed yours to them. Plus, you didn’t feel like openly talking about witchcraft in a pizza shop filled with likely normal people. “Girl stuff. And my grandma brought me along to meet Benny.”

“Yup. And I swept her right off her feet.” Your boyfriend smirked, slyly putting an arm around your shoulder. You snorted.

“Yeah, he did. Wasn’t looking where he was going, so he ran right into me and knocked me over.”

You quickly become part of the friend group

Traveling the short distance to Whitechapel to hang out quickly becomes part of your daily routine

You can tell they’re still a bit cautious around you

They don’t know you know about vampires, wizards, and all that spooky stuff

But you never find a reason to bring up the fact that you know or that you’re a witch, so you decide to just play along

Although they tried their best, your friends weren’t the best at being convincing or subtle. It was another regular night at the Morgan house. Everyone comes over to hang out and “babysit” Jane, and something weird or demonic happens, but it all gets resolved by the time Ethan’s parents come home from whatever obscure activity they were partaking in that night.

But this time, you were at the house too. And everyone, minus Benny, of course, didn’t know that you were aware of the supernatural. So they needed to get you away from all the zombified animals surrounding the house, caused by an incorrectly incanted spell by your boyfriend. Of course.

Benny and Ethan had ushered you up the stairs to Jane’s room, talking about how you should keep her company while they took care of an animal problem in the backyard. You tried to insist on helping, but Ethan was adamant that you stayed upstairs. Both you and Benny didn’t feel like explaining that you’d be fine when everyone else was so tense, so you quickly ended up agreeing.

Ethan knocked on Jane’s door before opening it without waiting for an answer and pushing you into the room. “Jane, we have to take care of something, so Y/n is gonna play with you. Don’t look out the window.”

When the boys left, you and Jane immediately looked out her window. Directly below you was a pack of various animals, growling and clawing at the house’s back door.

“Do you think this is Benny’s fault?” Jane asked nonchalantly. 

You looked at her in slight shock. “You know? About…”

The little girl nodded. “He’s a wizard, Ethan has visions, and Sarah, Erica, and Rory are vampires. No big deal.” You let out a little laugh of disbelief at her calmness. She must have known this for a long time. “Wanna play a game?”

“Sure. But first…” You looked back out the window, quickly muttering a spell that would tire the zombie animals, hoping it would make some retreat back to where they came from. “Might as well help them out a little.”

“You’re a witch?” Jane asked, pulling out Candyland. You nodded, sitting on the floor and helping her set up the game. “Cool.”

“It’ll be our little secret.” You say, holding up your pinky finger. She locked it with her own and nodded.

But eventually, secrets have to come out

You were at Benny’s house helping him with some work, both for school and for magic

The rest of your friends were coming over later

But you lost track of time, and they came in mid-spell

“Hey, kids.” Grandma Weir smiled at the bunch of teens standing at her front door. “Benny and Y/n are upstairs in his room doing some homework. Feel free to go on up.”

They all thanked her as they walked into the house, heading up the stairs to Benny’s room. Before they got to the door, Rory stopped them all.

“Wait.” He said quietly. “What if they’re making out in there or something?”

“Gross.” Erica grimaced at the thought.

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Who cares? Let’s just go in.”

“Fine,” Rory responded, putting his hand on the doorknob. “But if I get traumatized, it’s your fault.”

“Fine by me, just open the door.”

With vampire speed, Rory was in Benny’s room in the blink of an eye. But instead of looking horrified or amused from catching you and Benny in some kind of act, he looked beyond confused. 

“Oh, hey, Rory.”

“What the hell is she doing?!”

Everyone else rushed in, wondering what Rory could have possibly been looking at. The sight was definitely shocking, but not for the reason they assumed.

You and Benny stared at the group, not expecting all of them to barge in and look at you with such suspicion. You soon noticed that they were focused on a book that you were levitating as a demonstration for Benny. “What?”

Ethan pointed at the book. “What are you doing?”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you flick your wrist and send the book flying over to Benny, who reacts just fast enough to catch the object with his hand instead of his face. “Basic levitation spell.”

“Okay… Why are you doing that?”

“I think the better question is,” Sarah corrected, raising a brow in curiosity, “How are you doing that?”

You sat on the edge of Benny’s bed with a shrug. “I’m a witch.”

It took a second for the group to process that information. Once they did, they started to blurt out all sorts of questions. The main one being, why didn’t you tell them any sooner?

“Didn’t think I had to.” You answered honestly. “Have you guys really thought I’ve been a complete mortal this whole time? I do magic around you all the time.”

“You have?” Sarah questioned. “Like when?”

“Conjuring plates of food out of nowhere when I’m hungry, using speed spells to get to classes on time, busting open lockers or doors for jerks to run into before they can mess with you. I think the biggest thing I’ve done was send some of those zombie animals back to their graves that one night.”

“That was you?” Ethan asked, both impressed and shocked. “I thought Benny was just getting better at his magic.”

Erica snorted. “Yeah, like that’ll ever happen.”

***

Benny Weir Taglist: @batmandallyboy @june-julie

[kazxraval]

Everyone's changed. His head bobbled a little before he looked down at the knuckles on his skin. A pointless denial died as a small and disagreeable sound in his throat. Instead, a hand cupped over Emre's knuckles. Only a few seconds granted to inspect those eyes, ones he'd swam reverently through before, as well as Emre's current expression. "You have." Yes, the man with blood on his collar was the one who'd changed, Kaz's opinion.

Kaz cracked a smile, with fingers playing across Emre's swan neck. "It's nice to want something. Isn't it? We can look forward to it." As thought his simple desire to fuck would send them spinning through the fabric of time to the island again. The trip to Seattle was such a disaster, maybe the delay returning home was just another part of the dumpster fire.

If things felt unsettled to Emre, to Kaz it was a reality that he paid no mind to. Wouldn't matter much. All he really needed was to get back to the island.

Emre smartly tended to the disabled boat, with an attempt at the dead radio, and ultimately turned the vessel into a beacon before it could sink beneath the water. While Kaz's brawl with Georgie was asshort-lived as her ability to fight. When he subdued her sharp claws and bites, he handed over the knife she nicked him with to Emre. Fucking hell, Kaz! "It's alright." Well, Georgie wasn't necessarily, but that wasn't so important.

Emre brought the situation into a keen focus. No rafts. No... dolphins. "Think it's a random boat? What if she somehow got a message out to her contacts." The radio on the ship had been checked. "Did it look like someone fucked with the radio?" Was it possible she reached her connection first, and then damaged the equipment?

Kaz held on to Emre's smile for a minute. His gaze didn't go over the railing but out to the lights fast approaching. "You want us to pirate a ship?" A payment. Bargaining chips. Georgie groaned, groggy. Either the injured boat they were on or Feroze echoed their pain in the background too, although Kaz could barely tell the difference between the them.

"What if we told them that Feroze and Georgie were hurt when the boat wrecked? And we ask them for help." Of course, whatever ruse Emre decided worked best would be the one they'd go with.

"Fuck, Emre. I don't know about this one. Don't like it." His head hurt, the muscles in his neck killed him. Every bone in his body felt the weight of the entire trip. "I don't like you going into this blind either." There weren't a lot of options.

"Yeah. Yeah. Grab Feroze. Actually -- if you can bring him up here. I can help you too. May be easier for the other boat to see them both, yeah?" Just outside the bridge, he deposited Georgie but kept alert in case she faked it again. "And I can try to get some of the crew on board the lower deck." Maybe. It was the shakiest plan ever dreamed up. In his experience, best to prepare to jump on opportunities instead.

He tipped his head towards the strap of the spear gun, with the weapon thrown over a shoulder again. "Yeah. I'm good. I don't understand how you're gonna get onboard though. Without anyone noticing." He flashed a small smile. "Stealthy bastard, I know. I shouldn't even ask, hm?"

Why wouldn't they want yours? Kaz took a pause to look at Emre. "I have no idea" After a quick scan from Emre's wrist back up to his face again, "Other than that stupid tattoo having a meaning we don't know about." And then he began to wonder. "Why don't they want me?" His tone impartial. "What are you trying to say." A beat. "Got one prime organ over here." He grabbed himself to illustrate the touch of bleak humor.

They made a quick sweep below deck, to check the current damage and for anything else that might assist them. When it was time for Emre to prepare, Kaz kissed him quick. Then he waited. Feroze, in plain view, was going no where. And Georgie. Never would've guessed it would come to Kaz using her to bargain with. But, he'd never met anyone like Emre either.

As the other ship drew nearer, Kaz waved it down. Indicated where the similarly sized boat should pull up alongside the broken one. Noted five people were in view on deck. None of them looked particularly friendly. "Careful, we've hit something," Kaz called out. "We're taking on water, but slowly." Fuck if Kaz knew the exact details, but he winged it.

A short but gruff looking white guy with a shock of unruly ginger hair stepped forward, the apparent spokesman for the crew. His eyes scanned the boat, and then Kaz. 'We can see that.' His squint hardened momentarily. 'Your boat clipped the edge of a reef. How the hell did you possibly do that?'

"Equipment failure," Kaz bullshitted. "I'm looking to get some help. Hoping we can cut a deal." How would he know when Emre made it on board. Why the hell did he agree to letting Emre do that?

Kaz was an expert at maintaining a flat expression in the worst of times. But he stayed alert. Hoped to see a sign of Emre in his peripheral. Would the men who stood behind their 'captain' suddenly go wide-eyed as Emre snapped their necks or dragged a knife across their throats?

'A deal?' The captain repeated. 'By the looks of your boat, you better talk fast.'

The organ trafficker story didn't seem to go well with Kaz, and Emre wasn't quite sure why. But then, Emre didn't know this Georgina the way Kaz did. Something didn't add up for Kaz; but Emre pointed out, "It's been years, man. Decades. And this new world order as well...everyone's changed, haven't they." Emre's knuckles made a crescent along Kaz's arm to signify: including you.

How thrilling, to blurt whimsical things and see Kaz's eyes minutely flare white and bright. A smile on his lips that Emre decided was just for him, only for him. Words returned so smooth and clever, Emre could've dropped trou right there, if there weren't the silly little matter of surviving. Emre tilted his head back and groaned, long and throaty. "Fucking teleports! Why isn't it pulling us back yet. Fuck you make me so hot at the most inappropriate times, you know that? You bastard."

Not that it was even good to just zip back home. Nothing was resolved, nothing tidily wrapped in a neat package for Kaz! Everything - from brief, confounding glimpse of Priti in the city, to Georgina's organ trafficking - it was all so fucking messy and raw. And Kaz here, grimly cauterising every new bleeding as they sprung. How much more of this could he handle with his usual brand of stoic dismissal? His capacity seemed unending. It wasn't even taking it in stride; Kaz had a knack for rendering these titular people from his past - Priti, Georgina - completely irrelevant.

Like nothing hurt him. Like they couldn't hurt him.

But Kaz was human, and his capacity to love...Emre had witnessed and felt that first hand. Kaz's capacity of feel was immense, a maelstrom, one Emre was eager to get swept away in.

Kaz brought Emre back to current, with a pitiless lecture at Feroze. "Sometimes you scare me, my luv," Emre gently murmured, stroking Kaz's back again as they moved past Feroze's chilling position. (A position that Emre had put him in but...in Emre's mind, that was different. Not scary per se, just essential.)

They got to Georgina, and she confirmed before Emre could. He dashed to the captain to inspect but. Damn. Emre had intended to just incapacitate the man, but he'd botched it, and the wanker bled out. Emre keenly listened to Kaz and Georgina yelling at each other. Unbothered by the row, but trying to understand their twisted past, how it had fermented over the years, and bubbled open now.

Emre slid over to the console, grunting in frustration that the radio was somehow destroyed. He found switches for the navigational lights and flicked them on, knowing that it might attract whomever was coming for them; but counting on it now. Stranded out here in the water in a sinking, smoking, screaming yacht, it seemed like their best chance. More fighting, more violence; Emre could manage, and Kaz? Kaz would throw himself into the fray without question, when he'd already been so poorly beaten. What choice did they have, though.

Didn't it always boil down to that in the end?

A roar from behind Emre, and he turned in time to see Georgina free of her binds, leaping at Kaz. The struggle was tight and difficult for Emre to get a hand in - every time he tried to grab a fistful of Georgina's hair, she flipped aside. But Kaz solved it with his trusty fucking spear-gun - metal met flesh, and Georgina was down for the count. Kaz up on his feet in a flash, hauling Georgina up like a sack of potatoes. "Fucking hell, Kaz! Fuck! Fuck..."

Emre was shaking his head again at all of Kaz's questions. "No man. No life rafts. If we jump in the water, we won't survive." The water was freezing cold when Emre fell in, he could just imagine it now. "No dolphins coming for us this time. Kaz - " Emre turned to look at him. "Whoever's coming for us, their boat is our best chance, yeah?

Emre nodded to Georgina's deadweight. "And she's our bargaining chip. Fucking hell, someone in this fucking wasteland has got to hold some value to the others...! No offense, darling." A smile returned, but nothing felt as warm and melty-sweet, as Kaz's smile to him; nothing. "I'm sure Seattle was lovely. I would've loved to take the Urmilla tour."

It seemed there were boat lights in the distance, coming closer. Emre looked over the railing at Feroze. "Do you reckon he might have any value too? I'll fetch him."

Emre started down the ladder, his knives tucked into his waistband, A glance up at Kaz. "Still got your spear, yeah? When the other boat gets close, you greet them with Georgina and Feroze, stall them? I'll try and get on the boat and...." Emre licked his lips, thinking about Georgina's threats. They were coming for Emre, she said. Why not for Kaz's youthful organs too? What did Georgina know about Kaz? Or did she just want to keep Kaz for herself, like a prize or a pet?

"Well. They're not good people, are they? If they want my guts, I'll hand them their own." Ad then, Emre couldn't help but point out: "Why wouldn't they want yours?"

[toxaspot-wf]

Requiem poem 4- lich Mopuzr Raa

Netra Lohk Jahu

Decay Void Form

Carrion hordes trill their profane, From brooding gulfs are we beheld, Corporeal laws are unwit

Accord with eldritch plans, By that which bears no name, As suns and love retreat

[eats-a-berry]

ngl its wild seeing people say toshiro's reaction to chimera falin was because she was not longer "palatable" to him like yeah i would be freaking the fuck out if my former party members' attempt to save someone important to us turned her into a murderous chimera on a rampage who just killed all of our party members in front of us and only barely had any traces of herself left in her. i WOULD want to, y'know, let her rest instead of attempting to defy death by further mangling her beyond comprehension because these people have shown they have no idea what they're doing and have apparently caused a fate worse than death for her. it's pretty much just the flip side of the coin and "letting falin go" is, in fact, a lesson the crew has to learn by the end

i don't think faligon is falin's "true nature", i think it's an extreme end consequence of her issues: one where she has little free will, is on complete autopilot, and is controlled by another person.

[dykedvonte]

I also just realized that we really only get the 7 days before the crash to really see the people Curly and Anya were before the crash. It's not even the full seven days. We get the first two and the last two with a gap in the time for what could have gone down.

I just realized how vague it was and how quickly it all happened. They are such small moments and such short glimpses. She's only just told Curly two days before the crash. The next she told Jimmy and Curly had to confront him. It's further implied right after that conversation, Curly goes to collect himself and figure things out and Jimmy immediately crashes the ship, once he's far enough to not stop him, cause he knows Curly would never truly allow it to happen.

But he takes that as the okay to go ahead, because in the long time he's known Curly, that's always been the okay.

The difference in the gaps in the timeline really just paint a bigger less explained but more obvious picture.

[xchronicles]

I am so tired of seeing arguments against J/C, saying that Kate never wanted them together on Voyager because it would blah blah blah. Guess what? We are in agreement and we understand why it was necessary, especially when you consider the context of the time when the show was made. We fully support why it had to be done that way back then.

But times change; narratives and characters evolve, and views and perceptions shift. If anything, Voyager's inability to ever have two adult characters discuss their feelings ended up falling into another trap - they had Chakotay go after the 'prettier and younger' girl. You know what kind of message that sent to girls and women? You can have the most profound relationship in the universe with someone, yet he will still pick the prettier girl over you, even if they have nothing in common.

Prodigy had the perfect opportunity to subvert expectations by making them canon because, in retrospect, the 'will they, won't they' dynamic was predictable.

It was stated multiple times that they were afraid it would completely take over the show, but I don’t see almost anyone mentioning that this is exactly what happened with Wesley. Every podcast I listen to spends 50% of the time talking about Wesley, while the main Protostar crew is hardly ever discussed. J/C is also mentioned in passing. It all became about Wesley. In trying so hard to avoid falling into the imaginary J/C trap, they ended up in a much worse one, where all any Trek fan wants to talk about isn’t the Protostar kids or J/C, but Wesley and Wil Wheaton.

 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[fictionadventurer]

A Biltmore Christmas may be the first Hallmark movie to drive me to fanfic.