#i should try to liken his appearance to other things like maybe likening his eyes to a jar of honey or some shit idk

[gothsuguru]

i need to try and describe suguru in a way that isn’t just “sexy pierced tatted big-chested dilf with low-lidded amber eyes and a sultry gaze”

[ddarker-dreams]

Sweet Talkin’. Yan Dabi x Reader [COMM]

There’s been an abnormal amount of sirens tonight.

It should be unnerving -- and to an extent it is -- but this isn’t what keeps you awake. Not that, or even the dogs barking outside accompanied with an occasional derogatory yell. With a heavy heart, you can say that you’ve gotten used to all of that noise. No, it’s something different that steals you from the welcoming comfort of a deep slumber. 

The thing that truly keeps you up is the anticipation of what is to come. Or more precisely, who. 

The bright glow of your phone strains your tired eyes, but it’s your best shot at finding entertainment. Squinting at the blinding light, exhaustion seeps into your being despite your best efforts to ward it off. No matter how much caffeine you drink later on in the day, it’s not enough to to thwart your natural inclinations to sleep.

For most, nighttime is a relaxing time of day that’s coveted. It brings a time of solitude, to reflect and rest up for the next day. While you wish you could return to the days where you felt like that, it’s long behind you now. Instead, you evade sleep, in fear of what could occur when you’re in the defenseless state. 

An illusion of control is better than none at all.

“You’re gonna get dark circles under those pretty eyes if you keep staying up this late.” 

A deep voice rumbles from the entrance to your shared room, one that you instantly recognize. Even in your groggy state, your emotions heighten in his presence. Turning off your phone and placing it down, you stretch your arms out, a yawn leaving your lips in the process.  

So he’s back. 

“Yeah, yeah…” you grumble back, caring little for the teasing comment. After feeling around your nightstand, a click resonates, light illuminating your room. Once your eyes adjust, you spot your unwelcome visitor, who makes himself at home. Dabi walks towards you, your bed creaking under his added weight as he sits down. Untying his shoes, he throws them carelessly in the corner.

Sensing your staring, he looks over his shoulder and grins at you. “Awe, you miss me or somethin’? How cute.” 

A groan leaves your lips, and you reach to throw a pillow at him. He easily deflects it with a snicker, working on taking his shirt off next. At least now that he’s back you feel more inclined to sleep, knowing that he can’t sneak up on you. Splatters of dark vermilion catch your attention, mouth curling downwards into a frown. 

If there’s anything you’ve learned in your time with Dabi, it’s that you shouldn’t ask where the blood stains come from. Ignorance is bliss, right? It’s still an unnerving sight, especially since you know it isn’t his. 

The relationship you two share is nothing if not unconventional. His occupation -- if you can even call it that -- has him coming and going at unholy times at night. Sleep is difficult to come by, not knowing when he might make an appearance. It’s what leads you to stay up some nights, a preferable experience to tossing and turning with anxious thoughts plaguing you.

As long as you stay in your designated place, Dabi holds true to his promise of doing you no harm. Thinly veiled threats under the pretense of being your “roommate” lead you to the current day, an awkward routine settling in. For all it’s worth, it could be worse. You’re acutely aware of what Dabi is capable of, having seen the ashes of corpses blurred out in the news. 

Why he’s taken a liken to you is beyond you. It still beats dying, only by a sliver. 

“There are some leftovers in the fridge,” you tap your phone, reading the time. Three in the morning. Great, and you have work tomorrow too. “I think I’ll give sleeping a shot now that you’re back.” 

Dabi raises an eyebrow at this, a fresh shirt without blood stains now on. “You always sleep when I get back. It hurts my feelings. What, am I not good enough company?”  

‘If I’m being honest, not really.’

He grins at how you shiver, lazily crawling over to be by your side. His sudden presence fills your nose with unknown scents, ranging from smoke to burnt leather. Underneath is hints of his cologne, all mixing together to disorient you further. Dabi loves riling you up, testing the limits of what you can handle. 

You take a deep breath, hugging your knees to your chest. As long as you don’t let it get to you, it’ll be fine. He always gets bored eventually, leaving you to do as you please. That’s what you’ll aim for.

“It’s not that. I just have stuff to do tomorrow, and I don’t like being exhausted. It’s my long shift.” 

His trademark grin melts away, furrowing eyebrows and a grimace taking its place. Mentioning your life outside of him is a tricky battle, and you can’t help but regret mentioning it. Being in a sleep deprived state is a major disadvantage in your interactions with him.

“This again? I thought I told you to quit. Rent or whatever won’t be an issue, I’ll handle it.” Dabi scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your bare shoulder. His skin feels rough against yours, coarse hands rubbing circles into  you. You bite your lip at the sensation, hair on the back of your neck standing. 

“I... I like my job. Sure, it can be irritating at times, but it gives me something to do during the day. I’d go stir crazy without something concrete to focus on.” The words are heartfelt, unfiltered. When he responds in silence you worry you’ve made a mistake, upsetting him with your defiance.

He huffs against your neck, lifting his head and shooting you a displeased look.  His voice is a low murmur, one that reverberates into the core of your very being. “Always making trouble for me..." 

Dabi’s grip around you tightens, and you gulp thickly. With how casual he speaks to you, it can be easy to forget the major power imbalance. Instead of greeting you with insults, or worse, he lightly flicks your forehead.

You blink, baffled.

“Don’t most people hate their jobs? I figured you’d be jumping at the idea of having more free time, or whatever. So you can focus on other things.” 

It’s not a confession you were expecting, your cheeks flushing at the considerate nature of his words. While it’s true quitting your job is an appealing thought, it creates a semblance of balance within your now chaotic life. Helping you stick to a schedule, in the same way school used to. 

Now feeling confident in expressing yourself, your taut muscles relax into his touch. “I’m too tired to think about it properly, if I’m being honest. I don’t know how you can stay up this late all the time without losing it.” 

Deflecting from the previous topic makes you feel better. If Dabi notices your intentions he doesn’t point them out, allowing you to take control of the conversation without complaint. He must prefer it over when you’d just shake and cry in his presence.

“You get used to it, sweetheart,” he drums his fingers against you, smirking. “I’ll make a night owl outta you yet.” 

Any implications in his words go straight over your head.

“As tempting an offer as that is, I think I’ll pass. ” 

He shrugs at your indifference, removing his arms from your frame. The lack of enveloping warmth causes you to shiver, Dabi searching through his bag. You peak over his shoulder out of curiosity, his scarred hands settling on an object which he pulls out. 

It’s a copy of Animal Crossing, in all of its beautiful glory. You wipe your eyes, unsure if what you’re seeing is reality.

“W-what?” you guffaw before your brain has the chance to stop you, jaw agape and head tilted. Dabi places it on your lap, and returns to his previous position of holding you. There’s clear amusement in his eyes at your stunned state, relishing in your every reaction.

“Did I get the wrong thing? This is that game you wanted, isn’t it?” 

It had to have been a week or so ago. You lamented to him about not being able to afford this, not even realizing he was giving it any attention. To think he remembered, and acted on it for your sake... is a touching sensation. Maybe he is capable of selflessness after all.

The cute box art puts a smile on your face, one that Dabi stares at. 

“I have to say, I’m surprised,” you pick it up, looking at the back with wide eyes. “Did the cashier give you a funny look when you picked this out?” 

‘I really need to start thinking before I speak.’

He shakes his head at your blunt comment, not taking any offense. “I didn’t get it that way.”

‘Oh, well... better not ask more than necessary. There’s no blood on it so at least that’s a good sign.’

Wiggling free from his grip, you rotate your legs over the side of the bed, intent on getting your switch. An opportunity like this must be taken advantage of, and you’ve wanted to play this game for some time now. Dabi must’ve read your mind, and pulls you back to him with little effort before you get the chance. 

“If I remember correctly, you said you were tired just a few minutes ago.” 

He plucks the game from your fingers, and places it on the side furthest from you. What a cruel world this is, to have paradise so close and yet so far. You can’t help the pout that forms at his actions.

“The situation changed, I’m wide awake now.” you explain to an unmoved Dabi, launching over his lap to get your coveted game back. He picks it up, lifting it over your head with a chuckle. So that’s how it’s going to be. 

Defeat settling in, you retreat for now. A sigh leaves your lips, arms crossing over your chest. You should’ve known better, Dabi has made it clear to you that he wants your attention. Looks like you’ll have to wait until after work to get a taste of Animal Crossing. 

There’s a glint of mischievous in his azure eyes, one that you’ve seen more often than you wish. Dabi sighs in mock hurt, placing a hand over his heart. “Not even so much as a thank you for my efforts. That’s cold, babe. Real cold.” 

“I’m sorry, you’re right. Thank you, it means a lot.” 

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “That’s not what I was looking for. Try again, sweetheart.” 

A flurry of thoughts fly through your mind, all competing with one another to offer a solution. Does he want money for it? He should know that you’re not capable of producing that amount, or you would’ve bought the game for yourself. Dabi gives you a moment to think, before offering the answer to you.

He puts his pointer finger on your lip, maintaining eye contact while doing so. 

“Oh, t-that.”

“So glad to see that you’re finally catching on.” 

It could be the summer heat winning over your AC, the room suddenly feeling warmer than it did a few moments prior. You look down at your blankets, focusing on anything other than the person in front of you. This level of teasing is nothing new with Dabi, he always manages to fluster you. 

He sits, relaxed, waiting for you to make a move. There aren’t any other options that you can think of, so you give into what he wants. Moving closer to his face, you feel his warm breath fanning against your skin. Your hand twitches, pressing against his chest to offer balance.

Squeezing your eyes closed, you tilt your head, soft lips brushing over his own. All of your movements are hesitant, your entire body feeling like it’s on fire. Heart pounding violently against your chest, you move to pull back. Only to discover his hand on the back of your head is stopping you from doing so.

Dabi slants his lips back over your own, nibbling your bottom lip. You freeze, the unexpected affection leaving you incapable of reacting. It’s when you squeak that he finally loosens his grip, opening his eyes to take in your embarrassed countenance. 

All things considered, it wasn’t an unpleasant experience. 

You cover your burning face with your shaking hands, feeling the warmth emanating off of you. He makes it even worse by chuckling, the low rumble filling you with indignation. There never is hope of catching a break with Dabi. 

“You might be the one with a fire quirk after all,” he leans forward, placing a hand against your hot forehead. “Mm... that look you’re giving me is too much. You have to be doing it on purpose at this point.” 

Fed up with his relentless teasing, you smack his hand away and purse your lips. He props his arms behind his head, letting you glare at him to your heart’s content. From his lack of reaction, you get the feeling he isn’t too intimidated by you. 

“Whatever, I’m going to bed,” you huff, returning to your side and pulling up the blankets. He doesn’t make a move to stop you, and you take the opportunity to lay down on your side. Refusing to look at him, you focus on the wall. 

Dabi pokes your cheek, which you ignore. 

He lets out a long sigh at your antics, joining you underneath the covers. You hear shuffling behind you, and can’t help but wonder what it is that he’s up to. Maybe he’s succumbing to his own exhaustion, and will let you sleep in peace? What a perfect world it’d be if that’s the case.

The thought is entertained for three seconds before you’re pulled against his firm chest from behind, toned arms snaking around your torso and staying there. His body is always so warm. It doesn’t help that you’re already embarrassed from before. Dabi grumbles something incoherent, placing his head in the crook of your neck. 

Accepting the situation for what it is, you stop moving. He reaches over you to turn off the light, and darkness surrounds you once more. All you can hear are your own labored breaths, and rapidly pounding heart. It might be impossible to sleep like this. 

You’ll call out of work for tomorrow. 

“... Dabi?” you whisper, voice soft and barely audible. He grunts in response, nuzzling further into your neck. For the past few months, there’s been a thought that haunts you at every turn. One that you can never find an answer to, and have been too frightened to investigate beyond your own musings.

It’d be easy to play this off as sexual attraction alone, yet a voice in the back of your head says otherwise. That what Dabi feels for you goes beyond that, into a sinister territory that you want desperately to avoid. Why is it he’s patient -- borderline kind -- with you, yet cruel to everyone else? None of it makes logical sense, his actions erratic and seemingly without reason.

Maybe you shouldn’t know. Still, you ask, against your better judgement. 

“Why do you like me so much?” 

You feel how he smiles against the skin of your neck, the sensation stirring up unknown emotions within. He squeezes you against him once, letting out a low hum as he considers your words. While waiting for him to speak, you hold in a breath. 

“Dunno. Just do,” Dabi offers a noncommittal response, one that leaves you greatly unsatisfied. It seems he’s not even aware of it himself, the effect you have on him unlike anything he’s ever experienced. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” 

“... Alright, I won’t.” 

“Good. Now get some sleep, before I ask you to kiss me again.” 

[tatooedlaura-blog]

End of the Road

post-Redux/Redux 2

... their moments ... from now on ... Our Moments: Chapter 1: Five Words (post-Leonard Betts) Chapter 2: Sidebar Nonsense (post-Memento Mori) Chapter 3: Interim (floating somewhere around Unrequited) Chapter 4: Max 2.0 (post-Tempus Fugit/Max) Chapter 5: Shadowed Grey Eyes Chapter 6: The Warmest Thing I Own Chapter 7: Fancy Paper Napkins ​ Chapter 8: End of the Road (post-Redux/Redux 2)

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

He put her through hell the next two weeks and finally, seeing her on the other side of the hospital window, he splintered, leaning forward, unable to breath, overwhelming sorrow manifesting in yelled demands of people who couldn’t answer his pleas.

He thought he was quiet at her bedside that night, the world bearing down on both of them, but as he sobbed into her sheets, he felt her hand drift though his hair, nails lightly scratching scalp, “it might be a little tight, but I think we’ll both fit if we try.”

Mess that he was, he stood, dragged his hands over his face to clear away at least some of the nonsense before disappearing to blow his nose on some toilet paper from the bathroom. Coming back in, he shuffled towards her, whispering, “I snuck in. What if I fall asleep and can’t sneak back out?”

“I’m dying, Mulder. I can do what I want and right now, I want you in here with me.”

Deep breath of acceptance at her now-undeniable retort, he did as ordered, wedging himself behind her, back to front, arm hesitant over her belly, full length curl around her. He could feel her ribs against his forearm, her bony hip under his elbow, sharp shoulder blades pressing his chest, “we need to get you a milkshake.”

“If I could keep one down, I’d send you right now but puking up ice cream will just ruin it.”

“I see your point.” Sniffing latent snot back up his nose, he apologized, then, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Soaking up his warmth like a sponge, “I’m not sleeping that well these days anyway, and …” running off into oblivion, she finished the sentence a moment later, “well, I’d rather spend all the time I can with you, even if it’s at whatever the hell time it is and in a hospital bed.”

“A good cuddle does have its merits.”

That got a smile from her, “thank you.”

“For what?”

This time she found the words she couldn’t after he made her dinner, “for doing all those things that a partner would do; that a husband, a best friend, that family would do.”

Well, that made his heart break for the hundredth time that day, and mouth to neck yet again, his words rustled her hair and vibrated her soul, “well, you are my partner and my best friend, which makes us family and I think I fit the category of work husband so I’ve got all the bases covered.”

Reaching for his hand, she pulled it up to her face, kissing his knuckles before tucking it under her cheek, “we need to talk about a few things.”

“No, we really don’t.”

“Yes, we do. Let me take the fall, please? I need to know you’re okay once I’m gone.”

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

“We can have that argument tomorrow. Right now, just let me enjoy this, all right?”

She heard his mental screams of ‘Stop It!’ and she did, nodding against his hand, “all right but tomorrow, you’re listening to me.”

Wanting to cocoon her, tuck her inside himself, hide her away so the cancer and the fear and the reality of it all couldn’t find her, he hugged her closer, spooned behind her tight, “maybe.” That’s as good as she would get tonight and accepting it, she did her best to forget everything but the moment. A pleasant ‘hmm’ purred out a minute later and, hearing it as well as feeling it against his chest, “what was that for?”

Not realizing she’d made the sound until it was too late, “living in my moment, Mulder.”

“Our moment.”

For half a second, she wanted to cry, “You’re right. Our moment.”

&&&&&&&&&

He was gone when she woke up, the nurse checking on her telling her quietly, “he snuck out about 20 minutes ago.” Seeing her still sleepy look of disappointment, she smiled, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you; he’ll be back.”

Alone a moment later, she tried to work herself into a rage because he left without saying good-bye and without talking to her like she’d asked but, in the end, it was Mulder and she really should have expected it. Returning to her side, facing the door, she shut her eyes, imagining he was still behind her.

&&&&&&&&&&

He appeared the next day, glass vial offering a last-ditch effort in his fight to save her. He watched her argue with her family, fight her doctors, grasp onto a fading hope without which, she would be forced to make him sit, discuss funeral arrangements, ask him to give up while holding her hand.

&&&&&&&&&&

First Skinner left her room, then her brother, then, finally, Maggie, who gave him a hug and told him, without words but the slightest of head nods, that Scully was inside waiting for him. He gave it another minute, still processing, still gripping the bloody picture, still marveling at the news that was, indeed, real.

Opening her door slowly, the first thing he saw was not a smile but her piercing gaze that ranged in interpretation, over the years, from raging irritation to unbridled happiness. Todays was more of a confused relief bordering on reserved elation, “Mom says you’ve been sitting in the hallway.”

“Your mother deserved the first hug.”

“Are you going to be my third?”

“Patience, woman. I give you a hug now, we’ll both be crying for the next hour.” Shooting her his first mischievous grin in months, “I am breaking all kinds of rules still being here. Three people have asked me to leave already.”

She’d been prepared to talk for a few minutes, then go to sleep but suddenly, that wasn’t cutting it anymore, “You want to go for a drive?”

Finally approaching her, he pressed his thighs against the edge of the bed, leaning just enough forward but keeping his hands in his pockets, schoolboy asking a question of his favorite girl, “your place or mine?”

She hadn’t even thought that far ahead in the discussion but now that it was out there, hanging in the air, she gave him a smile, “your place. We haven’t been there in awhile.”

“Luckily I just changed the sheets a few days ago.”

Holding eye contact, swearing for one second she could actually see into his soul, she found herself moving her legs, bumping into Mulder as she sat upright, slid off the bed, “go find me my clothes.”

They didn’t so much sneak from the hospital as walk out, quietly, Scully’s bag in Mulder’s one hand, Mulder’s other on her back, pressed to muscle and bone, fingers loose-gripping the back of her shirt. No one said a word, elevator their immediate destination, anywhere else in the world their quest. The air was balmy, the breeze light, and Scully stopped the moment the automatic doors shut behind her, inhaling deep.

Mulder, nearly knocking her over, suddenly panicked, “what? What’s wrong?”

Her head spun, giddy and light, “just … overwhelmed for a minute.”

“Do you need to go back inside?”

Shaking her head vehemently, “no … no, I just … your place, please.”

“Food first?”

“No. I … that’s too much right now.” Looking up at her partner, suddenly exhausted, “a bed would be nice and some drugs when we get to your place.”

“Home it is, then.” He valeted the car, tucked her inside, and drove away, aiming towards his apartment. She was dozing by the second turn and fully asleep by the time he pulled up to the curb. Crouching beside her open passenger door, hand on thigh, voice low, he began coaxing her in a soft voice reserved for just such occasions, “hey, Scully? Wake up. We’re here and you’ve gotta stay awake long enough to deal with the front steps and the elevator.”

Blinking her eyes open, they rolled around for a moment before focusing, “okay. Don’t let me fall down.”

“Never.”

He wanted to laugh at her swaying walk, likening it to her drunken trek a year ago at her mother’s surprise birthday party. Not saying that aloud, however, he steered her to his door then inside.

He set her bag down, then took her coat, hanging it before heading toward the kitchen for a glass of water so she could take her meds and lay down. Asking over his shoulder what type of pain killer she wanted, he glanced back when she didn’t answer. Finding her still rooted to her spot beside the hat rack, he stopped, took in the tears already rolling, then held out his hand, waving her towards him, “come here.” She did, shuffling, leaving shoes behind and walking into him, the collision backing him up a few steps. Accepting the momentum, he continued moving, sitting down on the arm of the couch, level with her now, arms tight around her neck, her face hidden in his shirt, “what’s wrong?”

“It can’t be real, Mulder. It can’t. It shouldn’t have worked.”

“But it did. You saw the scans.”

“But what if I go to sleep tonight and wake up tomorrow and it’s back?”

Shifting her away, he settled hands on cheeks, thumbs against eyebrows, painting over them lightly, absently, as he tilted her head to meet her tear-y gaze, “it won’t be but if it is, but it won’t be, we will figure it out … together … all right? We got here once and we can do it again … but we won’t have to, so don’t worry about it.”

Her hands were around his wrists, “I think you just gave me a headache.”

“I’ve been giving you headaches for four years now. What’s new?”

“This.” Leaning in, she kissed him, barely brushing his lips but setting his world on fire in the process, “I’ve got, to sound trite, a new lease on life and I’m not wasting it.” Kissing him again, before swaying dangerously to one side, “but I am going to ask that we sleep through a little bit of it because if I don’t lay down soon, I’m going to end up on your floor.”

He wiped the few remaining tears from her cheeks before he kissed her back, light but claiming, “do you mind some company?”

“I have never minded your company.” Yawning, she turned white, an immediate sweat beading on her upper lip, “but I need to lay down … now.”

Walking her to the bed, he gave her a shirt and some shorts, some drugs and a glass of water, then, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Returning with a second blanket, he found her curled, body imprint stamped on ‘her’ side of the bed forevermore. His giddiness in the moment nearly made him laugh but containing it, he settled beside her, spare blanket at their feet. His hand went to her forehead, thumb in gentle circles between her eyebrows.

It was gone.

He had her back.

And he wasn’t going to waste a minute of the time they had left.

Which was a lot longer than they’d had mere hours earlier.

He didn’t fall asleep for hours.

Watching her breathe.

&&&&&&&&&&

Neither should have been awake but when Mulder opened his eyes, he found himself staring at an empty pillow and equally empty bed. Squinting towards the dawn-grey living room and the darkened bathroom, he looked over his shoulder, finding his target standing by the open window, leaning on the frame.

Rolling over, he tucked the pillow under his head, yawning, then watching her for a minute before she felt his eyes on her and turned towards him, quiet.

His mind was open and slow, filters off, walls down, and in that very moment, the only thing he had left in the world to say was “I love you.”

Her slow spreading smile lit up the darkening room, thunder rumbling as a storm moved in. It stopped just shy of a full-on grin, then dropped back to slightly upturn lip curl, sigh deep, eyes closing for a moment to collect the proper words from the universe, before sending them drifting across to him slow and steady, “and I … finally have the time … to love you back.”

Mulder’s smile spread at the same speed hers did, pushing into the pillow, squashing face glowing, “is this another one of our moments?”

“They are all our moments from now on, Mulder. All of them.”

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 54

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

Things somehow weren't exactly awkward between Ruby and I now that she knew how I felt and I knew she felt something back. Somehow we were still able to work closely together. I suppose that was what she meant by just needing more time. She was just worried and confused about Jaune. Which I understood.

I was still laying awake at night confused about my feelings for Jaune myself. So I wasn't exactly casting stones at her about it. Plus she promised she'd be ready to return my feelings eventually. So it was not like she'd rejected my emotions. She just needed a moment to breath.

I could deliver her that. I would deliver her that. She deserved that from me. I could be as patient as she needed me to be. I also just needed her to know. I wasn't going to be able to hide it from her forever.

Maybe things would be different if what had happened with Jaune was different. If whatever happened at Haven hadn't happened. It hurt that Ruby and I still didn't know for sure what I felt about it. My upbringing wasn’t one that led me to be in touch with my emotions.

I knew where Blake and Yang and Qrow still stood on the issue. They saw him as a traitor who turned on us. Blake in particular likened him to Adam, her own ex who eventually turned on her ideals of what the White Fang should be.

And it wasn't like Jaune wasn't a killer. He was. But had he crossed the line into being addicted to murder to solve his problems was the key question. Because Yang was a killer too and nobody doubted her. Blake, too, had killed during her stint in the White Fang and she was above suspicion. It was then just a question of whether he killed when the situation called for it or if he killed because he felt like it.

It was a scary thought and the image of him kicking one of Don Corneo's men in the head replayed in my mind over and over again.

It depended on what had happened to him at Haven, didn't it? Ruby, I knew, was still holding out for the best, whatever that may be. And in my heart I coveted the same thing. I wanted Jaune to be innocent. Even if it meant something horrible had happened to him. Perhaps that was cruel of me. Perhaps it was hopeful of me. Perhaps it was a lot of things of me.

"You mentioned you were attacked in Argus, right Ruby?" I asked her as she reclined on her bed and read from her comics.

Her hair looked good in the early morning light of Atlas as she kicked her feet up like a schoolgirl. She was adorable to watch.

"These blonde, blue eyed girls," she nodded. She looked over at me, her eyes were little silver mirrors. The light of dawn rebounded around and off of them.

"Did you catch any of their semblances?" I asked.

"The one I fought had this blue and red being that fought with her. It made her attacks stronger. Oscar and Qrow fought one which had a violet lightning semblance that made her faster, I think."

"That sounds a lot like Jaune's Limit Breaker. Doesn't it?"

"Maybe…"

"Is it possible that they are his sisters."

"Maybe. They might be the right age for it. But…"

"But then they should have known we didn't have the relic, if they were working for Salem, that is."

Who were those girls that attacked my friends in Argus? We'd talked about it a little before now and their powers were not dissimilar to Jaune's but they were after the relic. Something they should have known we didn't have. We'd talked about it as a group a little. I was curious about it a little more.

And they were young, young enough to fit into that category of how old he'd told Ruby his sisters were. If they were in league with Salem and looking for the relic didn't that mean Jaune had to be too?

But then they should have known that we didn't have it. It made no sense unless Jaune wasn't in league with Salem.

"How could Jaune simultaneously be working with her and not?" Ruby asked. She was reaching a similar conclusion as I was. She was always a little clever.

She also understood people preternaturally. She had a sixth sense about it. I wouldn't be surprised if she was able to pick people out of a line up based on their semblances. She was a powerful empath. Not as strong as Ren had been who's semblance had been tied to emotions, but she was good.

The power of aura gave her a supernatural sense of the emotions of those around her. It was why I'd abandoned trying to hide what I felt for her. She'd have been able to feel it eventually.

Something was afoot when it came to Jaune, something worrying. I knew she was thinking it too.

"You're thinking about Jaune, aren't you Weiss."

"A little," I confessed. "I don't understand what happened."

"You and me both." She put her comics down. She walked over and traced her hands through my hair. It felt nice so I leaned into her touch and let out a contented hum. "Blake doesn't believe us about him."

"She never got to meet him in Mistral," I defended. "She may know Adam but she never saw the new Jaune."

"Their semblances are concerning to me. If they're similar then they are similar," Ruby murmured. "They have to be, that scares me."

"That doesn't have to be a bad thing like she thinks. There were things about Adam that she herself used to like and souls are complicated business," I tried to refute. "Semblances are confusing and Jaune's is hardly the only one I've seen where the user has to stand still. I stand nearly still while I’m doing summonings."

She rubbed her face in my hair and laid on top of me in the bed. I turned around and put an arm around her and squeezed her close to me. She sighed as I did and we laid together on my bed.

I stroked her pretty red and black hair and she burrowed into the crook of my arm. Her little hourglass shape fit snuggly next to mine and I kissed her forehead. I just lay there stroking her and staring at her. It was a comforting moment, unbroken by interruptions and I had the pleasure of just staring at her as she rested with her eyes closed.

In that moment it didn't much feel like she was leading me on. It felt like that promise that she would be ready to return my feelings. One day, soon, she would be ready to give back to me what I wanted from her. She gave me a light blush and returned me a sigh.

I would miss this. If anything happened, losing moments like this would break my cold lonely heart.

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We met up in the briefing room and I saw Winter again. She was working on a data pad with a rough sketch of Atlas's newest hostile person of interest. Cloud Strife. I thought the sketch looked roughly familiar. Around the eyes and the bridge of the nose, maybe. The spiky hair and diamond piercings looked like no one I had ever met, however. He had a Mistrali look to him in the sketch as well.

"Still working on Cloud Strife, I see."

"Indeed. He burned down a building recently and killed thirty people. They were all gang members but still, murder is murder." Winter sighed. "He's working with Neapolitan and getting involved with the local gangs. It breathes of Roman Torchwick which is more than a touch concerning. The last thing Atlas needs is someone stirring the gangs up and mixing the pot."

"We've killed gang members too, " I muttered. "We got involved in the local mafia infighting in Mistral."

"Yeah, ever heard of Don Corneo. We killed some of his men," Yang followed me up.

"Killing in the line of duty isn't the same as murder." Winter shot us down. "What you went through is a tragedy in the course of securing the maidens and the relics. It isn't the same as gang warfare over drugs and prostitution."

Yang just shrugged like she couldn't really bring herself to believe it. I hadn't killed anyone and couldn't really speak to it.

"Perhaps you require counseling. You are young," Winter murmured softly.

"I don't need to see a shrink," Yang said.

"It's hardly anything to be ashamed of. I had to attend counseling when I was younger and killed for the first time," Winter confessed. "It's part of what we do. We all go through it. There are trained professionals to help us handle it. It's part of military life, at least in the Atlas military. Though perhaps you are handling it better than most. This is the first I'm hearing about it." She gave me an interested look.

"I've never killed. It was my job to torture the Don for information," I told her. "It was Jaune's operation."

"Perhaps more concerning than I thought. Torture and the turncoat. Perhaps I should prescribe you therapy. Torture is often as traumatic for the torturer as for the victim."

"I'm doing just fine, thank you," I instead insisted. "Don Corneo was a disgusting waste and I have no regrets."

"I see…" I could tell she was still worried in her distant way. I embraced the feeling of my older sibling's worry. It was oddly nice to bask in. I wasn't sure what Ruby was always complaining about. I was just glad she wasn't offering me therapy for Jaune.

I wasn't sure how to handle that odd ball of feelings and I didn't want to talk about them with some stranger. Plus I was sure that almost no matter what the topic was our problem child would probably come up. Even if it was just discussing torturing the Don.

Winter flickered over some other images on her data pad. It was two way so I couldn't help but see.

"Is that… Tyrian?" I asked.

"You know this person?" Winter asked. "He was a known mass murderer."

She reversed the image on the data pad for me.

I nodded. "He was in Mistral. He's the Scorpion faunus I told you about. The agent of Salem."

"I see." Winter scrolled through her report. "I was only just beginning to look at this statement regarding him. It appears he is a prospect for the description you provided. Scorpion faunus, claw like weapons, a metallic prosthesis for a tail. He's a match."

I stared at the photograph of Tyrian with blood at the corner of his lips. He was still smiling with a faint grin on his mouth and in his eyes.

"He's dead?" I asked, I examined the image. I'd fought him in Mistral. He was incredibly fast. And he fought with all of his five limbs in play. It made for a difficult opponent. He was easily the most dangerous enemy I had ever faced in real combat.

"He is. He was killed by Cloud Strife. Or someone with a similar weapon. Most likely him, however. A broadsword, to the chest. A mass murderer like Tyrian Callows would have been bad for Strife's business and that of his allies. He intervened and cut off Salem's influence at the knees."

"Strife is that dangerous?" Yang asked. "Who would have thought?"

"Indeed, Strife is making quite the name for himself and he's proving near impossible to catch with Neapolitan working for him. She's an illusionist and talented at that." Winter replied. "We don't even have a good image of him."

"A broadsword…" I murmured. I tried to connect it with the familiar portrait of Cloud Strife. It was possible, however unlikely, that Jaune did this. Tall, blonde hair, and blue eyes. If nothing else Jaune was similar to Strife. Winter had my description of Jaune, though. I was sure that if it was him, then she'd be closing the noose on him already. For good or for ill.

"What's the mission today?" Ruby asked. Maybe she was thinking the same thing I was and wanted the conversation to move along. Or maybe she was just genuinely asking.

"Grimm in a dust mine near where Amity is being repaired. You're being teamed up with the Ace Ops to clear them out."

"Anything special or just an infestation in general," Blake took the mission dossier from Winter and began to read. I got my own copy and started to leaf through it.

"There's been reports of a rather old giest. It is something to be wary of when you go in," Winter answered. "The classified nature of this mission is what calls for you all. It could be relatively minor and not worth all your skills. Or it could prove necessary."

I read through and looked at the map of the dust mines. It was entirely possible things could get rough in there with no means of supplying one another with quick aid.

"And this is close to where Amity is being worked on," I asked.

"It's nearby. As you can see we'll be dropping you all in. So have a landing strategy prepared."

"This dust mine… it belongs to the Schnee corporation." Blake murmured. She met my eye.

I looked through the dossier and found what she was looking at.

"It used to. It was seized by Atlas under imminent domain," my sister returned. "And it was promptly closed. We couldn't afford leaks about what's going on with Amity and we needed the space."

"And all that untouched dust will be needed for the first phase of the tower's launch," Clover continued for Winter. "Atlas huntsmen are already at work clearing out the surrounding tundra but that Giest evaded destruction and took refuge in the mines; it also took several lives. It's smart. It's old. It's dangerous. The works."

"The mines are an absolute maze from all the excavation they did back in the day. There's all kinds of tunnels it can move between. So, if we're going to kill this thing, we're going to have to split up and corner it. Pin it down, then drop the hammer on it," Clover continued.

I nodded at him while he projected a map of the mines for us. It had one enormous chamber and a series of off-shooting tunnels.  

"We need to get this done before any of the other workers or soldiers get hurt. Any questions?" He finished crisply.

I closed the dossier. We had none.

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With the help of Ace Ops destroying the giest was easy enough. They cornered it in the largest chamber and picked away at its body. To tell the truth it didn't seem like Ace Ops needed much of our help. They were all fast and strong and they operated well as a team. It made me a little jealous. Sure we worked well together, but that well? Perhaps not.

We exited the mine all together and soldiers rushed in behind us to start to secure the place and start getting dust unloaded and ready for the launch.

"Ruby, Qrow? May I speak to you both for a moment?" It was Ironwood standing by a bunch of military trucks. He'd been talking to Clover. That just left Yang, Blake, and I on an airstrip. A plane bearing the SDC logo came descending down on the strip we were on.

"So let me get this straight James." My father came striding out of the airship. His face was red with rage. I hated that look. I was it's target more than once. "In addition to this nonsensical embargo of yours crippling my business, you've also decided you have the authority to commandeer private property. When the council hears about this you will never-"

"Actually I've already informed them. As this is now the site of a classified military operation. It didn't even require a vote." Ironwood ran my father over easily.

"Didn't require a vote?!"

"You might want to brush up on council law before you lose this upcoming election, Jacques; now, I've allowed you to land here once as a courtesy. The next time won't be a friendly reception."

"Lately you seem to forget who your friends really are. I'm going to get that council seat, James and maybe then you'll…" he noticed me standing there in my new blue outfit.  "You… you roped my missing daughter into these schemes of yours too? How long has she been back in Atlas? Does Winter know about this-"

"It was my decision to leave you. It was my decision to come back. Or have you forgotten all about that?"

"If you think I'm one to forget anything, girl,  then you've misjudged the man your father is."

"Believe me, I know exactly the kind of man you are." I folded my arms over my chest and I stared my father down. He was abusive, emotionally and physically. He was a coward who ran from his own name. He had no right to talk to me that way. I wasn't his doll. Never again.

"How dare you speak to me that way, I have half a mind to-"

"Half a mind to what, Jacques?" Ironwood interrupted my father again.

My father growled and did up his sleeve. "You know, your mother was devastated when you left." I glowered up at him.  "Didn't leave her room for days. You know how she gets when she's upset."

My mother… she knew the sort of man she was marrying. On one level I felt pity for her, on the next I couldn't help but feel that she was getting what she deserved. She knew who my father was. She had to have. And she married him anyway. Still… still I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Which was what I knew my father wanted.

I felt some disgust at myself and at his emotional manipulation. He was always like this. I should have known I could never take the high road with him stooping so low.

He turned away from me and back to Ironwood. "I knew one day you would overextend your reach. I didn't come here to beg for an abandoned mine. I came here to thank you. For personally handing me the noose to hang you. You'll regret this." He turned back to me. Ruby had come up and was holding my hand. Rubbing little circles of comfort into it.

I squeezed her fingers back and she threaded hers between mine. It was small, but it was ours. No one else could take that from me.

"So these are the little friends you threw everything away for." He always reached for the low blow. He was predictable like that. Knowing that didn't make it any easier to deal with, however.

"Not friends. Family." I returned.

He stalked back to his ship past Ironwood with a growl.

I let a sigh escape me as his ship departed.  

A military vehicle pulled up in his spot and Winter popped her head out. Glaring up at father's ship.

"Winter, oh now you show up. You just missed father."

"Oh I wouldn't say I missed him," she returned. She felt rather the same about father as I did. That was healthy to know.

I was not alone.

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-WG

[trashogram]

Ryuk/Reader 5 

Not too sure if anyone is still interested in these or wants to be tagged? I’ll be crossposting them on AO3 though. 

Your friend was beaming, up until she looked down and saw your glossy shoes. You crossed your arms as May’s face fell, not at all ready for the obvious browbeating.

“You’re wearing those?” She asked. Her brow was knitted as she stepped forward, whirling around to face you again once you’d closed the door behind them.

“If I actually do dance, I don’t want to break my ankle trying.” You pointed at May warningly. “And I don’t want to come home and have to soak bloody feet in the tub before bed.”

“It’s not gonna get that bad!” Your friend said.

She scoffed at you while making herself cozy, promptly slumping onto your sofa and pulling her bag out to rummage. You felt a stab of hurt at her dismissiveness, but instantly berated yourself. You were way too sensitive; May didn’t mean to make you feel bad.

Ryuk was standing idly in the background, staring from the dining room table. He hadn’t said much since you’d come out of your room, not that he could unless you wanted May to think you were (way) too far gone. It didn’t phase you as your stomach was twisting unrelentingly.

You felt sick. That was despite knowing that going out to a public place tonight, with a friend, wasn’t the dire crisis you’d been making it out to be. Going out wasn’t exactly your style - but neither was turning down your friend when they asked you for anything.

You knew, deep, deep down, that your inability to say ‘no’ was a real problem, but May was one of your only friends. She was outgoing and chatty, and she actually acted her age instead of like a recluse. Her vibrance made you feel light-hearted, able to set aside weighty thoughts and behave like nothing mattered.

*

It was a solid hour and a half before May had run off into the crowd and left you sitting in a booth.

May had left her drink unattended, but you didn’t feel too bad about offering it up. Your friend was already buzzing by the time they’d gotten in, and while the drinks were scammer-worthy expensive, you knew that May would hardly miss this one.

“Try this!” You said, sliding your back up the booth to gain some height with May’s discarded drink in your hand.

The martini glass floated out of your grasp as you watched Ryuk eye the liquid inside, unceremoniously dumping it into his maw.  

“Eugh.” Ryuk grunted, some of the liquid leaking out of his wide mouth and dribbling down his face.

“What?” You shouted over the music. “You don’t like it? It’s apple-flavored!”

Ryuk’s nose scrunched in an empathetic look of disgust, and you failed to cover your laughter as you took the glass he’d held out at arms length. “Nothing about that tastes like an apple.”

You matched his melodrama with a pout of your own.

“Aww, come on! You’re being so picky.” You traded the near-empty glass for your own, still full and sloshing up to him to half-ass a toast. “It's good! You just have no taste.”

Ryuk’s golden eyes gleamed as they rested upon your open, ruddy face. He didn’t say anything more, just laughed. The sound sent a pleasant shiver crawl down your spine, while you likened it to the crackling that came when lightning struck the earth.

You smiled, feeling lightheaded with the alcohol and the fondness amix in your system. Perhaps he was the stuff of nightmares to most people, but to you, Ryuk had become a friend. And although you were unsure of whether or not you could consider your feelings reciprocated, just the thought made you happy.

You drank in his appearance. The multicolored lights bounced off the various silver bobbles that hung off his suit. His belt in particular caught the pinks and greens from above, and you studied it. It was a pretty badass belt, but it was also a practical utility even for a god of death. It was the only thing holding up his pants and loincloth as, unlike his upper body, there didn’t appear to be any stitchings between them and his skin.

He could probably take them off.

The smile on your face slowly disappeared when said thought didn’t go away immediately. Heat bloomed beneath your cheeks, and you ducked your head to stare down at the grimy table, imagination lost to far off, inappropriate places. That regular queasy sensation of considering something taboo was still there, in your brain, but the wild atmosphere laid the excitement on thick and the sense diminished.      

You looked away, back out into the crowd of people, all of them completely unaware of your conundrum - as was your otherworldly companion perched overhead. There were couples in your field of vision, including May and some guy. Everything was cast in darkness down here, but you could make out the sight of your friend throwing caution to the wind and grinding on him.

Without the barrier of clothing, you were sure that May and Whateverhisnamewas wouldn’t have any trouble getting right down to it in the middle of the dancefloor.  

Eyes glazing over, your attention leapt to the heat growing in your belly. The past few weeks had given you more insight into the way the shinigami felt about you. You could be wrong, of course, but you were sure that if you asked, Ryuk would definitely take his pants off for you.

You brought a hand up to your mouth, pretending to prop yourself up by the chin to hide the gasp that escaped from your lips, even with the music drowning everything out.

The alcohol was slowly working its way through your system, you finally reassured yourself, and that was likely what was causing these intrusive thoughts. Maybe this was the strange but necessary way in which your brain was telling you that you’d hit your limit.  

Pushing away the glass, with its malty-green liquid all out of fizz, you started to slide out of the booth and address Ryuk once more.

“Hey, I’m gonna tell May we’re going.” You called.

You rolled your eyes as Ryuk leaned down, hand cupping over one ear as he made a show of not being able to understand you over the noise. You thoughtlessly swatted at his leg, inhibitions temporarily abandoned.

Ryuk looked at you. “Done for the night?”

Had you been sober, you might’ve questioned why he wasn’t throwing a fit over not staying longer. It hadn’t been too long, and often if you were too quick to jump at going home, your deathly partner would whine about how un-fun you were. That had to be especially applicable after you’d withheld the information about this weekend excursion -- Ryuk had vocalized how fascinating he found the idea once it finally escaped your lips… But he’d been quiet as soon as May arrived and hadn’t said more than a few words at a time since.

You hiccuped. “Just gotta say bye.”

Ryuk’s orbish eyes flashed as he looked off to the side, probably to help you find your way in the crowd, and you were momentarily preoccupied by whether or not you should ask May to leave with you. You doubted she would, but who knows? You didn’t want to leave her in a terrible situation if she was trapped --

With a startled yelp, you tripped on your way out of the booth, not accounting for the lift that you’d had to jump onto beforehand just to get into this ridiculous seating arrangement. You fell forward, sensible shoes scuffling the edge of the raised platform and one of your hands banging the underside of the table while you tried to grab onto whatever you could.

Tough luck, but even with Ryuk cackling in your ear, you registered one of his large, taloned hand instinctively snatching you by your arm.

Your eyes narrowed as you concentrated on having your feet planted firmly on the ground floor, and at the sudden dual set of voices confusing your already impaired senses.

Your shinigami was saying your name - or had started to - when another male voice rendered him silent.

“You good?” Suddenly there was a man beside you, arm outstretched and making you squeak as he used it to press you to him. He was either under the impression that you needed the support, or wanted to give you the impression that you needed it.

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was much too close, and Ryuk’s grip on your arm had disappeared.

*

“You sure do like looking at the human world, don’t you?”

The shinigami had his back turned to Armonia Justin whole kneeling down on the ground made of sand and dust. The name above his head rippled, but he was otherwise unresponsive.

“I suppose that makes sense.” Justin continued. “I don’t remember being as new as you. I’m not even sure if Shinigami can be considered young… but I’m sure that if I were young, the humans would distract me as well.”

Silence followed his words. It wasn’t much of an attempt at conversation, but then Justin didn’t care too much if he was entertaining their newest member or not. It was, in fact, a little annoying to put up with this arrogant shinigami and his bold refusal to integrate into their realm.

But then, the King had seemed so gleeful at the idea of this new guy. He’d laughed as though enjoying an inside joke while putting the body together.

Armonia Justin sat as he always did, perched on a golden throne. He was no king himself, but there was some truth to being of a more divine position in his case. He knew more than a lot of the others of his kind did.

A breeze blew by, rolling stagnant air about. “I’m not looking at the world.”

“Huh?” Justin asked.

“I’m not looking at the world.” The name above the Shinigami - Helios - rippled again as his tone changed to one of irritation.

“No? What else would you be doing while looking into that pool, then?” Justin snapped back.

“Searching.” Helios shrugged his shoulders beneath the overcoat he’d been bequeathed. “I heard that another death note was dropped into the human world.”

Justin paused, then began snickering. “Aha, yes, that did happen. I’m surprised you weren’t there to watch the show. I believe the death god who ‘dropped’ it was of interest to you at one point?”

“Are you trying to help him find it?”

It actually startled Armonia Justin when Helios snorted. He sounded as arrogant as ever, but some wounds had been scratched and the posture of the newborn tightened considerably.

“Like I would ever help Ryuk.” Helios shook his head. “No, no. I want to see who picked it up.” 

[millytempesta]

Mine and only.

Chapter 2, chapter 3.

Paring: Bokuto Koutarou X reader

Rating:  fluff.

Summary: After another date went horribly wrong, all that (y/n) wished for was for the only man in her life that ever understand her, to become a human.Little did she knows that her pet owl wished for the same thing, and that magically their dream became true.

Warnings: This story will contai SMUT.

A/n: I realized that this chapter is a little rushed, it’s the first time I’m writing somethin, sorry. Also I'm already sorry for all the spell and grammar error, english is not my first language.

Tapping sound is all that can be heard around the office.

Tap tap tap…“Ugh…” a groan can be heard from one of the desks.“My head is killing me…” (e/c) eyes scan the office, almost empty at this hour of the day.The clock shows 8.45 pm ‘Only 15 more minutes left and I’ll finally be able to go back home’. Her eyes land back on her desk, where a small frame is situated. Her small hand takes hold of it, studying the picture inside of it. A dreamy smile appeared on her pink lips. ‘My Bo, he must be worried I’m this late… I need to finish this quickly!’. With a look of determination the (h/c) haired girl turned back to her computer and started typing again.

‘For my Bo!’

“And.... Done!”, with a satisfied nod, she turns off the computer, ready to finally head back home. ‘I should stop by the store to buy some of Bo’s favourite food as a sorry, and maybe some more wine for the weekend’ she thinks happily, moving to the elevator, but before she could even get near it a squeaky voice calls her name. "(Y/n)! (Y/n)! Wait, I need to tell you something!!!” The blond girl jogged to her with a huge smile on her face. With a sigh, the (h/c) haired girl turned to face her, already knowing what was going to come. “You are not going home, are you?”

“… Yes…?” A whine escapes from the younger girl in front of her. “But it’s Friday night, we don’t have work tomorrow and the day after! Come to have a drink with me and my friends, you’ll have more fun!” With an apologetical smile, she answered “I’m sorry Ichika-chan, but I’m too tired today… Maybe the next time okay?”

But was only met with a disappointed look “You always say so, but never come… You know, in my group of friends there are a lot of hotties, I bet you’ll find someone of your likening”. “I’m not-” the blond girl waved her off “Yeah yeah, you are interested in dating at the moment, because you all heart belongs to Bo… Yeah same story every time, when will you change your mind? You are already 25, you won’t be young forever you know? It’s now that you need to experiment, to truly live your life. Not passing all your time playing the housewife, you can do that once you’ll have your kids.” Green eyes lock on (e/c), searching for something that apparently she did not find, since a defeated sigh escapes from her lips. “Look, I don’t like to nag you every time, I am just worried about you… Since that guy accident happened you stopped going out, closing yourself in your apartment with Bo… You know I like him, but I miss my friend, and I want too some time to spend with her, getting drunk, doing stupid things and talking about sex experience of the night before”. Guilt starts expanding in the older girl for making her friend worry so much and making her feel left alone.

(Y/n) didn’t have many friends, they all stubbed her in the back. Ichika was the only constant in her life, way before she met Bo. She knew about this point that all the little girl said was only for the best, that’s why she always found it almost impossible saying no to her. With a sigh she locks eyes with her “I promise you I’ll come tomorrow night out okay?”. A huge grin spreaded on Ichika’s face, happy that her friend decided to spend some quality time together. “Hey I’m counting on it, I’ll tell the guys too. We are gonna have so much fun tomorrow!!”. With a last hug and excited exchange of location and time, the two went their separate ways back home.

After stopping by the shop, (Y/n) finally arrived home. Opening the door she announced herself “Booo, I’m hoome”. A loud flap sound can be heard before a big gray and black mass of feathers appeared from the bedroom door. “CRIP”. A big horned owl made his way towards the girl, who is waiting for him with her arms wide open. Yes, the guy who is stuck on her head 24/7 is none other than her lively and cuddly pet owl.(Y/n) and Bo met 1 years ago, during her morning jog in the park, where she heard his screaming. A dog had one of his wings in his mouth, shaking the poor bird from side to side. She couldn’t leave him there, so she runned to him and scared the dog away. Turning back, she felt like an electric shock runned through her, when yellow eyes met her (e/c) ones. It was like in that moment, a bond formed between the two, proved when the injured animal itself moved closer to her, letting the girl lift him in her warm embrace. It was only natural for her to take the pet in her home, taking care of his healing and loving him beyond any other relationship that she ever had. In exchange, the horned owl, once healed, didn’t once leave her side, always waiting for her to come back home, and going out hunting for treasure to show her on her return.

“Hi big boy! I missed you so much!” she says sweetly, stroking the bird’s head who is resting on her chest. With an annoyed tone, the owl looked at her “HOOT!” Trying to calm the bird stroking under his chin,“I know, I’m late… I’m sorry, I had lots of work to do” she tried to explain. But that seemed to don’t convince him, as he took a step back and opened his wings to her “Hoot hoot!” showing how he was not happy about it. Fidgeting with her hands, the girl looked at the owl through her lashes, and with her best pout she continued “But I bought you your favorite for tonight… Will you forgive me?”. At that the howl started jumping happily “Hooooooot!!”

A giggle escapes her at the cute image of her happy pet. Moving to the kitchen, she started unpacking the groceries, taking out the rabbit for her pet, and the vegetables to prepare her pasta. After some cooking, she placed their food on their plates and moved to the sofa, where her olw was waiting for her. “HoooOOooT!” he started jumping as soon as he saw her with the food. Giggling she sat on the floor, placing his plate next to her “Calm down, or you’ll spill it everywhere!”. Ignoring her warning, he started devouring the food, sending bits of it everywhere. Shaking her head she turned and started eating her food “At least I know you like it, cooking for you always brings me so much satisfaction”. In response she received a purred like “hoooot”, emphasizing her point.

After they both finished she sat on the sofa, bird laying on her tummy, watching some action movie on the tv, Bo’s favourite.

When the scene with the main character kissing came, a sigh escaped the girl’s lips. “Hoot?” a curious sound came from the big feathers-like-tummy-warmer. Without looking at him she started talking “You know… I miss it…”. Looking down at the confused yellow eyes she continued “I miss being kissed, touched… I miss being in love, being for once the one pampered” Turning back to the screen, another sigh escapes her “I’m going out tomorrow night, I might pass the night out if I’ll find someone…”.

“CRIP” Suddenly the bird stood up and flapped his wings. “Hey I’m coming back in the morning okay? And we’ll have a cuddle day together-” The bird interrupted her flying away in the bedroom “Booo, please, it’s only tomorrow night” no response. After some seconds, worried, she made her way in the room, but found it empty. It’s not the first time the bird went out, so she tried brushing it off and decided to go to sleep, knowing he would be back and cuddling next to her. But after one hour of waiting under the covers, alone, she started panicking.

Bo always came back during night time, never letting her sleep alone. Moving to the window, relief washed on her, seeing her pet sitting on the big tree in their garden. She could swear she saw her bird in an emo-like mode, pouting at her when their eyes met. “Bo… What are you doing there? C’mon, get inside” she said using her sweet voice. The owl seemed conflicted if giving up on his sulking state, but apparently deciding she didn’t deserve his time that night, he turned his back to her. “Bo… I can’t sleep without you… Please… I need you next to me…” at that his ears perked up and, rotating his head of 180°, he looked back at her. Smiling, knowing she already won, she finally said “You are the cutest bird, and best horned owl I ever saw, and I loooOOOoove you!! Can you now come and cuddle on the bed?”. Pumping his chest out -provoking her to roll her eyes- he quickly made his way on the bet, jumping in a way that meant for her to get into bed with him. “I’m coming, I’m coming” she said giggling. Cuddling near the soft feathers, her eyes became heavier. With a yawn she gave her the good night and before falling into the land of dreamland, a whispered “I love you Bo” made his way out of her.

This night couldn’t go worse.

She knew that going out was going to be a total mess. She knew she had to stay at home with Bo, watching some action film and eating meat all day.

But no… She decided to go out…

And now she found herself having to kick out the guy she met that night, who was screaming like a mad man at her, saying the worst offences she ever heard, in complete contrast with the world he was telling her when he was trying to get in her pants, because he tried to hurt her pet. On his defense Bo tried to attack him, having seen him as an intruder on his territory and a threat for her owner, probably not understanding the moans that escaped her while he pushed her against the wall. But she couldn’t find in her to be worried about the man, who risked his eye probably, when he tried to grab Bo’s wings as a defence from his claws. All she could see was her lovely pet, risking to be seriously harmed from a stupid madman. And now she found herself with a sulking owl and a man screaming at her door at 1 in the morning. She’ll have to deal with all the noise complaints tomorrow. “I’m sorry… I should have known better to take a stranger in the house”. No response from the bird, who was now under the small table, back turned to her. “I put you in danger, when I promised you no harm would have come to you in my presence” Her voice started shaking. Still no response. A tear fell from her eyes “I am so sorry Bo” a sob escaped her. Closing her eyes, she let herself cry, knowing how much she fuked up, and that maybe her pet would never trust her again. A soft and warm wing spread across her back, followed by a softer head nugging at her harm. “Hoot…” he sounded so fragile. She turned and looked back at him “I am sorry Bo, it won’t happen again”. The owl nugged his head under her arm, making her space for him to cuddle her side. “Hoooot” the purring-like sound made her smile, a reassurance for her that he was no more mad.

Taking him on her arms, she made her way to the bed, laying down with the soft animal on her chest. That night she fell asleep with the weight on her body increasing, and with the most beautiful voice whispering in her ear a soft “I love you (Y/n), I promise you I’ll protect you from all those men”.

[hazymultiverse]

Ok um... could I ask for Bruno using his stand abilities in bed 😏 I’m always thinking about what he could do with those zippers dhdkdjdj,, Maybe Sticky Fingers himself is there too, its up to you 👀

This was gonna originally go a different direction, but then the ‘Bruno is super weird’ post came around on my dash and I decided to go with this angle instead. Enjoy!

—

Sex with Bruno is never uneventful.

You’d quickly come to the realization on the first date that this man wasn’t exactly the everyday joe on the street, and that you had, in fact, agreed to a date with the man who was currently testing out different melodies of whistling to see if certain patterns would encourage the sparrow to hop into his hand to eat the seeds he was offering.

You’d be lying however, if you said it hadn’t endeared him to your heart immediately.

Throughout your relationship, you had also gotten used to the odd schedule of his work, both in him leaving for day trips or overnights at short notice, or when someone stopped him on the street to ask for his help, or opinion on something. You didn’t mind, knowing his heart and longing to help others was one of the reasons you fell more in love with him every day, and that if it ever interfered with your plans or your date, that he would make it up to you in any way he knew how.

When the phone rang while you two were enjoying each other’s company in bed was another matter.

You were tangled in the covers, thin sheet stuck to your bodies with the sheen of sweat that had built up on the two of you. Both lovers paid it no mind however, continuing to run their hands over each other’s skin, bodies smoothly rolling against each other in slow deep thrusts.

The two of you were laughing, he had likened a squeal you made (his hand had been a bit cold) to the sound of a certain gull he had seen on the wharf the week prior, sending you into a fit of giggles between kisses, only encouraged when he reassured you that you were “Far prettier than any gull he’d ever seen.”

A bit odd for dirty talk, but not the strangest thing you’d ever heard him say.

After the laughter had died down, he’d put a bit more concentration into fucking you, still gentle and sweet, but with a bit more urgency, relishing in your sighs and moans as you nuzzled into him, mouthing at the skin of his collarbone.

Rolling over to be on top of you, he gazed down at you, dark hair framing his face as he leaned down to kiss you.

With the change of angle, his cock dragged against a sweet spot inside of you, causing you to gasp out his name and clutch his back, prompting him to let out an amused hum of, “oh, you like that?”

“Oh, please, mmm!” You keened against him, pleasure making your brain go fuzzy around the edges as you felt a tight sensation building in your very core.

“Are you getting close for me darling? You’re making such pretty faces-“

He stilled against you as a loud trill of a phone rang from the bedside table.

Letting out a sigh, Bruno started to get up, your legs and arms wrapping around him with a whine.

“No no no, come on don’t go I’m so close, they can wait!” You pleaded, but to no avail.

“Tesoro, you know I have to take this, just- gimme a moment- there.”

Closing your eyes and throwing your head back in the pillows in frustration, you didn’t notice what Bruno was doing until he had gotten up, snatching up the phone with a quick “Bucciarati here.”

It took a moment, until you shifted your legs, to realize that somehow, despite being across the room, he was still inside of you.

Sitting up with a hand flying down to your entrance, fingers brushing against the metal of a zipper.

You sat dumbfounded for a moment, trying to come to terms with the fact your boyfriend had, in fact, unzipped his dick and left it in your pussy while he took a phone call.

This wasn’t the first time he had used his stand in the bedroom, but in the past it had usually been to take your clothes off faster, or to zip open the bedroom wall to carry you inside, refusing to put you down to open the door like a normal person.

Sticky fingers had made a few appearances as well, but not exactly like this.

Testing the waters, you clenched, watching as Bruno’s eyes fluttered shut a moment before shooting you a mischievous look.

Reaching down again, as soon as you touched the zipper, a hand gripped yours, Sticky Fingers manifesting beside you.

“Hey there handsome, it’s been a while.” You greeted him warmly, the stand raising your arm to press a soft kiss to your wrist. You lowered your voice, “Bruno sent you over to make sure I keep it in, didn’t he?”

“Ari!” He gave a firm nod.

You settled back into the bed, brushing your hair back from your face, mussed from previous activities. Stretching out and then shooting a grin to Sticky Fingers, who was still watching you intently.

“Guess we just gotta keep ourselves busy until he’s done.”

Your hand wandered down, reaching no farther than your clit as you began to stroke and tease yourself, a soft hum leaving your lips as your eyes fluttered shut.

A second hand joined yours, your lovers stand beginning to caress your body with practiced care.

Soon you pulled your fingers away, allowing him to control the pace completely, Bruno’s voice fading into the background as you were drawn back into the warm lull of pleasure.

Sticky had a better idea, however, as his other hand reached to grab his users cock, pulling it out of you, and slowly sliding it back in, essentially using it like a toy to fuck you, quickly choosing a faster pace, watching your back arch as you gripped the sheets.

Bruno obviously hadn’t been expecting that, and nearly doubled over with a choked gasp, quickly and breathlessly assuring the voice on the phone, “Oh no, I’m fine, just- ah- tripped on something. Y-you know, we could probably go over most of this in person, it’s rather late- oh? Yes that would be fine, I’ll meet with you tomorrow. Yes sir, thank you. Good night.”

With the phone hung up, he rushed back over to the two of you, catching your face in a deep, passionate kiss, his stand slowing down a bit, the pace a languid rocking of the wrist.

“You,” He pointed at his stand, “Were supposed to keep her out of trouble, not make your own.”

“Oh don’t blame Sticky, he was just having a bit of fun.” You defended, cupping the stands face, “Weren’t you? You just wanted to make me feel so good, and you did, you’re doing such a good job”

Your breathy praise put a smile on his face, Sticky Fingers looking smugly at Bruno, the latter shaking his head good naturedly.

“Well lightning shouldn’t strike twice, so we should be uninterrupted now.” Your lover dismissed his stand, crawling back between your legs with a grin, “Let’s pick up where we left off.”

[sourbat]

Nategaar R or U (Sorry (I'm not sorry) I keep sending you Nategaar I really love how you write it)

R: Romance Under the Stars

Wow. I actually have something to say about this. 

Warning: Set during Galaktikon

The Falcon could not withstand the heat that ripped through earth’s atmosphere, and the sound of metal turning, massive plates groaning and giving under the increasing pressure, could be heard all throughout the ship. And yet it persisted, chasing after the increasing heatwave that only grew more tumultuous and unbearable, turning the band’s one way ride into a giant, flying oven; a coffin that would no doubt cook them alive if there weren’t other, greater issues at hand. A wave of demonic evil swept across the darkening skies, igniting the dwindling oxygen in an immense flurry of wild fire that struck the Falcon’s side. Emergency lights flashed, and amidst the chaos, the cracking glass panels and increasing light as the Falcon drew nearer its goal, all Nathan could think about was how nice the stars looked tonight.

Stars of prophecies aside, just about everything else in the sky appeared the same. Each bright dot flickered, shining a once insignificant beacon of hope, now so impactful as time began to drag. Nathan could feel it slipping before him, coming to a still as his eyes locked with what he hoped was part of the dipper. He didn’t care which one it was, so long as there was something recognizable within the black, empty sea of space.

Skwisgaar’s hand squeezed his. “What ams you lookinks at?”

“The stars,” Nathan answered without breaking contact.

A final decision had been made, though it’s unclear when each member gained their resolve. Nathan’s confident Toki and Pickles’ made theirs before setting foot on the Falcon, and Murderface, despite his lamenting, had become increasingly determined on the ride up. Nathan knew this was it, accepted it as such, but Skwisgaar by his side, wavered.

“Remember when we passed out drunk looking at stars?” He mentioned it absentmindedly, as a filler to help cover the dread he was sure Skwisgaar was feeling. Skwisgaar squeezing his hand? No, should be the other way around. Or maybe Skwisgaar was trying to reassure him… did any of it matter now? 

Skwisgaar uttered an airy chuckle. “We does that all the times, Nathans.”

True. Nathan cannot count the times he and Skwisgaar passed out drunk during “x” activity, and when Skwisgaar brought it up, was almost taken aback by the remark. Then Skwisgaar laughed–actually laughed–at Nathan, and also at his own comment. It was a hearty, boisterous laugh, one so powerful it clogged Nathan’s overwhelmed senses. A laugh that deafened the flaring alarm. A row of shiny, white teeth that blinded the red flashing lights.  

“Sorry,” Skwisgaar said, shaking his laughter away with a few sharp flicks of his head. Each one produces a serene, blond flash that Nathan greatly preferred over the impending lightning storm. “I was just thinkinks. All of them silly memories…” Skwisgaar’s eyed began to strain, and his bottom lip sank. Nathan gripped Skwisgaar’s hand, sending a silent, but firm order to finish the comment, no matter how painful. Skwisgaar’s head shakes a nod. “I thinks I will miss thems very much.”

“Yeah, well.” Nathan stopped. He stared at the vast, darkening sky, watching the blue begin to sink beneath them, replaced with the black void of space. A sharp pain shot through his heart at the sight of the millions of stars across the universe. Stars that he wished on, counted, and stars that lighted him the way home. Stars that shined when he and Skwisgaar kissed, glimmered when they fell in love, and stars that ignited in fury whenever they performed. The agony persisted, and Nathan relinquished his hand from Skwisgaar to pull him close. Their hips bumped, and Skwisgaar wrapped his arm round Nathan’s waist, and although the screen was almost completely warped from the mounting pressure and heat, the two remained together and stared at their battered version of the night sky. “They were all good,” Nathan stated, feeling Skwisgaar’s cheek brush against his. “Each one of them.”

 Skwisgaar rested his head on Nathan’s shoulder. “Mhmm.”

Time continues to slow, coming to a near standstill. Nathan’s sure he’ll need to call the band to order soon, though when is still up in the air. Air? Sky? They were in space now. They were all amongst the stars. He and Skwisgaar were surrounded by the stars. Nothing mattered now. Not even time.

Time… 

“Skwisgaar?” 

“Yeah, Nathans?”

“I…think.” Nathan’s throat tightened. Skwisgaar shifted, pressing his weight into Nathan. “I think I’m really going to miss that,” he confessed, and felt Skwisgaar’s hair drape and spill over his shoulder as he turned to stare up at him. “Us. Together. Doing shit like that.”

The moment’s ruined, Nathan thought. Soiled with too much emotion. Stupid feelings that raised up fear and doubt, longing and so many unspoken words Nathan failed to get across with his lyrics, messages that could only be relayed through private stares or hands reaching and sending notes of desire. Now as not the time for doubt, for second-guessing and silently pleading for time to just freeze so that he could properly formulate the words he needed to say.

But Nathan knew he could have a million years, and it would never be enough to fix the pain in his chest, and in a few seconds, he would have no choice but to let Skwisgaar go.

Skwisgaar pressed his chin into Nathan’s shoulder. “Nathans?”

“Yeah?”

His lips pursed into a thinning, pale crescent. “Them stars looks very beau-tificals.”

Nathan hissed, stopping an exhale from turning into a groan, then gave Skwisgaar a sharp nod. “Yeah,” he said, then turned, brushing his nose across Skwisgaar’s silken crown. Nathan pushed his lips into the center, producing an audible kiss that could be heard through the vibrating metal. “You’re not half-bad looking yourself.” 

Skwisgaar’s arms squeezed his waist. “I could say them same things abouts you.”

Time. Nathan remembered a time where a lightyear was unfathomable, when such distances could only be “explained” with fancy programs and numbers. Formulas had always been meaningless to him; it was only through experience that Nathan could truly understand the meaning behind such terms. As the Falcon continued forward, disregarding pieces of its tearing wing, or outer layer chipping away, Nathan finally got what it meant for something to stretch on and on, maybe even forever.   

Perhaps this will last forever, Nathan pondered as the weight of his body began to lift. How perfect would it be if he and Skwisgaar’s final seconds together could last a million lightyears, could spread across the cosmos and be seen and wished upon forever? Was that too gay, or just too much for ask for? 

The Falcon’s front peeled under the heat, and finally gave way, and the massive beast ahead unleashed a final blast of lightning towards them.

And then they ascended.

Just as planned, they united against the demon, and with their combined powers, pushed back the evil storm with one of their own. Dethlights flashed across space, swallowing up the lightning, thunder and flames. Their powers fighting, consuming and mixing with Salacia’s resulted in a massive reaction. Metal melted, evaporated under the unfathomable heat that coursed through Nathan’s entire being, that sweltered and scorched each band member. Just like the Falcon before them, they persisted, consuming all the evil in their path.

Such combined power proved to be too much, and as Nathan began to feel his every atom give under the intense, magical force, somehow found and pulled Skwisgaar into his chest, embracing him one final time before their physical forms ceased to exist. A massive pentagram filled the sky, burning through the booming thunderclouds. The pentagram remained for some time, fending off the residual magic that once threatened the planet, spreading across the damaged atmosphere and blanketing it with its force. It soon vanished, replaced with the promising formation of rain clouds that healed the planet with its soothing rain.

That, too, ended.

The clouds shifted, shrank and returned to the sea from which they came, unveiling the magnificent array of purple and white. Stars glowed, radiated across the clear night sky, shining their brilliant light over earth, and other, greater pieces shot across the cosmos, stretching long tails of burning light and vanishing once they breached the atmosphere.

Underneath an old, abandoned wooden set of high school bleachers, Nathan drunkenly peered outward, head lifted to the sky. His heavy jaw sank, and a harsh stare turned agape at the many shooting stars that birthed and died before him. He rested a hand against the ancient, rusted support beams. A single, massive light burst through the sky, soaring across Nathan’s line of view before disappearing into the darkness. Its sudden death sent a peculiar, if not melancholic, sensation up Nathan’s spine. 

“What ams you lookinks at?”

Somewhat startled, Nathan turned around, facing Skwisgaar. The man sat under one of the better covered portions, and was nursing the last of the cold cans they had taken with them on their objectiveless adventure. Despite sequestering under the more covered portion of the bleachers, the man’s long hair was drenched, sticking to parts of his face. Under the shadowed frame, Nathan likened Skwisgaar to a handsome phantom, an angelic, but haunting figure that could lure him into the dark recess of the bleacher if he so commanded.

“A star,” he answered without breaking contact.

Skwisgaar’ eyes reflected, glowed menacingly like a tomcats under the shadows. “Instead of lookinks at silly stars, we coulds be... admiring each others more, ja?” He slipped his arms over a leg, then rested his chin on top of his knee as Nathan drew closer. “After alls,” Skwisgaar continued, voice dropping into a sultry whisper as Nathan’s eyes set upon his glowing form, “one day we wills be real stars…” 

[simsadventures]

Duties: Chapter 1: The Naughty Prince

Summary: Thor is the oldest son of Odin, king of Asgard. He should be coronated a king, as his father is losing his powers, but Thor seems to care about one thing only: all the women in the court and outside of it. He needs to realise what being king means and that he has some duties he must fulfil.

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, Medieval AU, implied smut, Thor is a piece of shit here, basically, historically inaccurate language (can’t seem to get a hang of it), no reader in this one, we will have to wait for that

Word Count: 1754

A/N: It’s finally here! So excited to share this story with you guys, even though I know that Thor does not have as much love here as Bucky. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is just an introductory chapter, more action coming in future parts. If you’d like to see something happen in the future parts, let me know and I’ll see what I can do :) REBLOGS and COMMENTS are always welcomed :) xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

The sound of laughter could be heard from Thor’s room. Loki, his brother, stood listening behind the closed door, trying to determine how many were in his brother’s room this time. So far he could count 3 women and Thor, although he could not be too sure about the number of women. Loki remembered all too clearly the last time he had to fetch his brother he thought it was only Thor and one woman, but when he entered his chambers, there were actually 4 beautiful girls laying spread on the furs, Thor in the middle of them.

Loki sighed heavily and knocked loudly, but no response came from behind the doors. He braced himself and knocked again, this time with more power so that his brother could hear him from the maze of laughter and whispers coming from the chambers. Still nothing. Loki regretted the day he was born, and with that thought, he opened the door. The sight in front of him disgusted him severely, and he was sure he would never get the image out of his brain.

His brother, the mighty Thor, the person who was likened to the God of Thunder, for his famous battles won with his worthy hammer, was now surrounded by tangled limbs of multiple women. Thor was on his back, and his body was sticky with some liquid- Loki presumed it was honey, and the women (Loki counted 5, that was a record) were sucking on his skin and laughing and giggling. Loki almost gagged at sight and turned around swiftly, wanting to do nothing more than to run away and never to return. But he had to deliver his father’s message, just like always.

“Loki, brother! I am delighted to see you! Have you come to join us this beautiful evening?” Thor was smirking, the Omegas around him still latched onto his skin.

“Firstly, it is already morning, my dearest brother. And secondly, I would rather cut off my own hand than to join you in bed. Anyway, I came here for our father sent me. He wishes to speak with you.”

“Ha! And he sent you to tell me? Don’t we have thralls anymore? Or guards? Does he have to send the prince to tell me that he would like to have a heart-to-heart with me? This is getting ridiculous, seriously.”

Loki rolled his eyes but refrained from comments. He knew it would be useless to say anything to his obviously drunk brother. Loki did not give his brother another look and walked out of his chambers. He was not too sure if Thor would follow, but Loki was sure of one thing. He was not returning to his rooms. Hopefully, ever again.

—-

It took another three hours for Thor to finally appear in front of his father’s office. He knew Odin would be there, he always was. He would think of all the great battle plans there, and when necessary, he would even hide there from the wrath of his wife, Queen Frigga. Odin loved his wife, but there were certain moments in marriage when he knew it would be better if he cleared away from her sight for some hours.

Thor had a smug smirk splayed on his handsome face as he knocked on his father’s private chambers. When he heard the silent “enter”, he threw open the door and waltzed in. Odin was sitting on his mahogany chair, facing away from Thor, scribbling something down.

“You wanted to see me, father?” Thor asked as he sat down on the nearest chair. But Odin did not answer. He kept to himself, which only made the ever impatient Alpha grunt.

“I think I shall come later, you are too busy, oh mighty Odin,” Thor said, picking on his nails, kicking his boots on his father’s desk. If only Thor cared a little more about his surroundings, he would feel that the atmosphere was growing thicker by the second. Odin, Alpha himself, might have been old, but he was still the king of his kingdom, and nobody, not even his son, would disrespect him.

The low growl that left Odin’s throat, however, did nothing to Thor, who still acted oblivious. It was when he dared to kick off the dirt from his boots on his father’s papers that Odin lost it. He abruptly stood up and grabbed the collar of Thor’s linen shirt in his fist, bringing Thor to his level. Odin’s eyes were glowing angrily, and for the first time in a long time, he did not have any funny comebacks to offer.

“Who do you think you are? Last time I checked, I am still the king of Asgard, and you’re still nothing more than a prince. How dare you disrespect me so? How dare you disrespect your whole family so?”

Thor wanted to roll his eyes at his father’s overdramatic behaviour, but he felt that it would not end well for him. “Does our family care for a little dirt on your table, father?”

Smack. The slap Odin delivered on his son’s cheek could be probably heard even outside of the chambers. “Quit speaking, you brat! What I mean is your constant orgies, or what should I call your encounters with multiple Betas and Omegas. The whole country knows of your activities, and it keeps putting a bad light on the whole family and the whole kingdom. It needs to stop immediately.”

“Father, you cannot be serious, I-“

“SILENCE! I have had enough of your constant replies. You’re the heir to the thrown, and still, you act as a farmer’s son. You have duties, Thor, which you obviously still do not realise, but they are here, lurking, and you can no longer ignore them. I solely wished to punish you by sending you to negotiation with Midgard, but that would be insufficient. If you wish to be the king, you will have to find a suitable Omega and marry her. Otherwise, I still have the power to pass the thrown to you brother, who, might I assure you, looks and acts more like a king than you ever have!”

This was an unexpected turn of events. Thor believed his father only wished to pester him for his behaviour, a thing he did quite often lately, but this seemed to be much more serious. And the image of marriage scared Thor more than any battlefield he ever had to fight on.

“But father, I thought you insisted on us finding our true mates? And I’m doing so by eliminating women from our kingdom. And I do it thoroughly,” Thor said with a smirk, remembering all the times he laid with women from his country, enjoying all they had to offer.

“Oh, I’m aware of your thoroughness, do not worry about that. My order stands, do not argue with me. You can go around the country, hell, I will speak to all our neighbouring kingdoms to ensure you could travel through them and maybe your mate resides somewhere behind our borders. I do not care. But true mate or not, you have 3 months to come back with the future queen on your arm. Do you understand?”

And Thor could do nothing more than to nod and walk out of the chambers with his head hanging between his shoulders. This had to be the worst day of his whole existence. He was sure of it.

—-

Thor was sitting in his chambers, thinking of his life’s decisions. He was suddenly very aware of every time his father called him to remind him of his duties, but he never (well, until now) took him seriously. He always felt like he was his father’s favourite and, therefore, could get away with much more than his brother. And it seemed to have been the case for a long time.

When the two brothers used to play, breaking something in the process, it was always Loki was punished more. And for the longest time, Loki was pulling tricks on everyone around him, trying to get at least some attention of his father. But that changed when he met his true mate, an Omega called Sif. She was a fierce worrier, despite her presentation and the moment Loki saw her, he was smitten. It took his lady a little longer, but now, after 2 years of being mated, they were inseparable.

They still did not produce any offsprings, enjoying their alone time, as they used to say. Thor would not admit this to anyone, especially not his brother, but he was sometimes jealous of what Loki found in Sif. Their love blossomed, they could count on each other, both in life and on the battlefield, and Thor had to admit that were they to become the King and the Queen, Asgard would thrive.

Thor sighed heavily and looked out of the window. He could see multiple Omegas in the gardens, and he recognised them as the women who were caught in his chambers earlier that morning. They were all looking his way, and they waved at him, smiling. But Thor could not reciprocate their smiles. His heart suddenly too heavy.

Growing up, he always thought he’d be the good son, the one his father could be proud of. But lately, he lost his way, and he was not sure whether, or how to turn his act around. He knew that he would have to do so, eventually, but the idea of marriage set a weird dread in his bones. He has slept with so many women during the last few months that he could not imagine being faithful to just one. And maybe if he didn’t marry his true mate, binding him to her, he wouldn’t have to be faithful.

An idea sparked in his mind, but as fast as it got there, Thor knew he should get rid of it. He thought of marrying the first girl that would stumble his way, letting go of the idea of true mates, the forever love, and all of that. But something deep inside him made him uneasy. He did not know where his mate was, or even if his mate existed, but the idea of some Omega, waiting for him to claim her and the disappointment coursing her veins when she would realise that he already claimed somebody else made him let go of this dream.

He would have to do as his father said, even if he hated the very thought of it with his whole being.

/Next Chapter >

Duties:

@kenzieam​ @the-soulofdevil​ @thelonglostavenger @beatrice-of-messina​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @rohaintahquil​ @youngdreamer3214​ @the-walking-daryl​ @jaxyboy246​ 

Marvel Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @lumar014​ @ptrs-prkrs​

Thor Taglist

@owlyannah​

Forever Tag:

@eileenalone​ @sasbb23​ @p8tn0lish​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @waiting4inspiration​ @caswinchester2000​ @mogaruke​ @justthatfangirloverthere​

If your name is crossed out, tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason, I’m sorry.

If you’d like to be tagged comment/message/send an ask. If you like the story, please reblog :) any comments are appreciated, even the critical ones. Always a space to get better, so let me know what you guys think.

[abloomntime]

A Bloom In Time Ch28 Welcome To Mafia Town P2

(I headcannon the place the Twilight Bell takes you is the Horizon Moonjumper lives in.)

Poppy had stared in front of her when the man yelled and slammed the door behind him. Stopping and staring for a while confused, but she just shrugged it off and started off again. She hadn't taken more than three and a half steps when the door flew back open with an even louder BANG and with more force enough to vibrate the glass of the door and windows of the building and the three stopped and stared at the next wild sight that graced their vision. One- Two-......NO! Around ten men in blue suits marched right out of the door and like some military, marched in a rythume and rows of two fives. Before all turning on their heels and effectively blocking their way to the other side of the docks with all of them staring, but they weren't the only ones. The men working on the docks and one or two that were just casually walking past them just stopped and stared at what was going on. Hattie immediately scowled and brandished her trusty umbrella out of nowhere ready to battle, and Bow shrunk back behind Poppy's legs as a man different from all the others stepped out of the doorway. Instantly Poppy got the feeling this guy had a bad attitude by the way he walked around like he owned the place and the fact. This man had a giant black mustache and goatee, and was a good foot shorter in height compared to every other man there as he walked in front of them. He wore an apron like the rest of the men around here, but with a giant red coat with gold trim, and like Cookie a chef's hat that wobbled with his every step. He marched until he was right in the middle of the dock blocking their way and stood in a stance with his hands on his hips.

"So. We meet again Kid With The Hat!," he shouted in a deep male voice also different compared to the other men she's heard, "And this time you brought along more people from your strange world! You dare show your face here again after what you and your friend did!?"

"Who's that?," Poppy asked glancing down at Hattie's stiff form.

"That's the Mafia Boss," Hattie warned pointing her umbrella right at him, "He used to be stuck in a jar, but after Snatcher made a deal with him for those death wish contracts, he's gone back to being a big bully!!"

".....I'm sorry. He used to be a what and turned back into what after Snatcher did what??"

She didn't get an answer from anyone as the man marched right up to the small group of girls and Poppy watched with a scowl as he made a big scene of 'manly' stomping his footsteps all the way towards them until he was just shy of a foot or two. Hattie still in that 'make one more move and I'll end you' stance but not doing anything as he just stood there in front of them and Bow now clutching her with like an iron trap and pressing her forehead to Poppy's leg. The man wasn't even that tall. Not including his hat, his head came to just barely above her shoulders as he continued to stand in that stance-.....And Poppy couldn't help but get a strange feeling of deja vu at seeing this man. He looked somewhat familiar. A good few tense moments went pass as nether spoke until he made the first sentence.

"Red haired lady! Are you the one who stopped my men from doing jobs?," he asked staring directly at Poppy.

"If by jobs ya mean I asked them nicely to stop harrassin' a poor defenseless ol' man and then defended mahself when one your goons started the fight, then I sure did buckaroo!," she snapped back with that country sass that once made Snatcher's living heart skip a beat. "And what if I did or not? Sounds ta me they'd be better off not doing any jobs if all they do is harass poor people all day for money like they got nothin' else to do!!"

"HA!! Is orders from me!!", he challenged back.

"Well. Then I guess you're one insecure power hungry spoiled rich boy if I had ever seen one!! Did yer mama not teach ya any manners!?"

The entirety of the mafia men watching either gasped or looked on with shocked faces that someone let alone a woman, would dare talk to Mafia Boss that way, and the boss didn't seem to take a liken to that either.

"How rude! You must be very lost lady with the red hair. You're in the heart of our town! STANDING BEFORE THE MOST POWERFUL MAN YOU WILL EVER WITNESS!!" He smirked when some of men cheered their boss on proudly. "In Mafia Town Mafia Boss makes the rules!"

"Well then." Poppy gave a look that one would give if someone had something dum like fish were secretly birds that flew underwater. "I guess ya'll can consider me a rule breaker because anyone wo gives those orders aren't a man or very powerful if ya'll need to hassle money from an old man to keep stable income!!"

The silence was astounding as the Mafia Boss just stared at her flabbergasted and paused. Poppy still staring at him so done with this entire man baby's show off attitude, if he wanted to cause trouble then she could and WOULD dish some of it back into his face well cooked with a side of sass. He still stared at her for what seemed like an eternity before he chuckled and that smile returned to his face.

"You know. I have not seen a woman like you since we left original mafia island with Women Mafia. You dare speak back to Mafia? You have guts, Red Hair Lady.....Mafia like that in a woman.~"

".....What?," Poppy asked. It was the only thing she could force out at that moment.

"What?," Hattie asked just as confused.

"WWWHHHHHAAAAATTTTT?!," SNATCHER roared from the shadow he was stuck in. Yellow eyes narrowing and mouth suddenly becoming more jagged with fangs. "OOP!!" Poppy had taken a step back in shock and stepped in the middle of his face.

If anyone had heard Snatcher's loud yell, and most likely did, they ignored it in favor of watching the awkward interaction between the two adults. And the Mafia Boss leaned closer to her. "Mafia likes strong fight in women. Pretty Red Haired Lady has much fighting spirit!"

Poppy was stunned as she stood there staring at this smaller man with a jaw slightly dropped. Was this guy SERIOUSLY FLIRTING with HER?! After she smashed one of his guys to the ground and slapped another's hand?? Was he SERIOUSLY doing this?? Apparently so because Bow had lift her head enough to look at what was going on and her and Hattie exchanged a look as if they were telepathically asking each other what the world was happening. But no one could've seen what was coming from the furious ghost who moved his face and was GLARING dangerously at the Mafia Boss. He hadn't done anything yet finding amusement in Poppy throwing back her own stubborness into this situation with always made things amusing enough for him wanting to watch, especially since he missed her last dish out of sass back. But now he had quickly turned from amused to FURIOUS with that famous temper he was known for. But it turned from valcanic to NUCLEAR when the mafia boss grabbed Poppy's free hand even making her flinch and blink at the sudden action looking at him with a scowl.....Then realization flashed in her eyes.

"Wait a gosh darn moment.....I know you! I saw your paintin' in the art gallery." And she saw his face spray painted all over everything around town too! That's where she had seen him before!

"So you are familiar with Mafia's greatness? Mafia is greatly flattered.~" Pulling her hand up to his face with that smile like he was about to kiss her hand-

An animalistic like snarl pierced the air and something dark blocked out the son over the three girls and some presence hovered over them that made the Mafia Boss's and Mafia Mens' eyes widen as pure terror poured over them in waves like the ocean as the very large ghosts hunched over the ladies, his face a twisted one of pure rage as he stared the tiny man dead in the eyes. Poppy just stared at the ghost jumping when his enlarged claws gripped her shoulders as he pointed those fangs at the man. ....Her arm slipping away from the man.

"YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH BUDDY!!," he absolutely ROARED out the loudest Poppy had heard him thus far, "YOU WANT TO DIE A SECOND TIME!? OR MAYBE I SHOULD EAT YOUR SOUL!!!" The Mafia Boss yelled and stumbled back away from the shadow monster threatening to eat him and yells came from all sides from the men who either ran down the paths leading from the docks or back into the open resturaunt to escape the shadow monster that had suddenly just appeared. Only annoying Snatcher more that these pathetic fools would even try to act like they had a chance with her. "That's it! WE'RE LEAVING!! NOW!!"

The teleporting worked as quickly as any other time he did it. Purple energy completely took over the world around them like the many times he's done this before and swallowed them all whole. Poppy closed her eyes when purple invaded her vision and the air suddenly shifted again much more aggressive and quickly than any other time she's experienced this kind of thing. A second later she landed onto her side and shoulder with a thud and 'OOF!!' onto soft carpet and a moment after the purple dissappeared leaving the familiar sight of a little alien's space ship and the windows of space. Next to her was the basket tossed over on it's side and half it's contents spilt out onto the floor, mostly the apples that just bounced out of the sack and rolled out onto the carpeted floors. She groaned and forced herself onto her back and sat up, looking up to the figure of the deeply scowling ghost staring back out the window and down at the planet. Hattie was sat on the floor next to him pushing the hat off her face and Bow sitting up next to her.

"Ow. Quick exit much?," she asked Snatcher who looked at her.

"Hey! I just saved your sorry behind from unwanted advances from a total fool! Your welcome!!"

She smiled. "Yeah. To be honest I was 'bout ta deck that mustached peckneck myself. Glad I didn't have to waste any energy of that." She slowly stood up and brushed herself off smiling. "Great timin' purple onion."

"Hmph.....Thanks." He crossed his arms and began to calm down a bit. The raised fluff and extended claws slowly smoothing back to their normal look. Watching silently as she turned and started to pick up the basket and all the things that tumbled out of it. "What are you planning on doing with those anyways?"

"Uh. Put them in that fancy fridge of yours," she said not looking up from her lil clean up. Making sure not of the food got damaged. It'd be a waste if she spent so much on them only for them to be ruined. Thankfully on closer inspection it didn't seem anything was wrong. Fish still wrapped up. Bacon still in package. And the milk bottle wasn't cracked or spilt. Thank goodness. Standing back up with the basket of food she turned to the kitchen.

"Now do you see what I meant about their being danger at every corner around here?," Snatcher asked following behind her as she walked. "It's dangerous and trouble!"

"I appreciate the heads up, but you don't have to watch me over." He opened his mouth- "I SAID I appreciate it." She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. "And what happened just proved your point a lil bit, but I am NOT a kid or need a babysitter. Sooner or later I gotta make a livin' on mah own after I pay off mah debts while you're helping me. And I mean it when I say thank ya but don't feel like you have to take time out of your day worryin' about me. I can take care of myself."

"And what if you need help-"

"You'll be the very first one I'll trust to help me." With one last smile she turned back and walked the rest of the way up the ramp and into the kitchen to put away the fruits of their adventure. Leaving Snatcher there floating and staring after her, Hattie suddenly running past him into the kitchen to presumably help and still sat there. "What do you have in yer hat?," Poppy said from beyond the kitchen doors. "Coconuts? Where'd ya get those?"

"On the palm trees on the beach," Hattie proudly stated.

He didn't even notice Bow standing next to him until he spoke. "Are you ok?"

".....Yeah. I'll be fine." He turned and started floating off towards the windows in the control room. "Tell Poppy I'm heading back. And if she decides to go somewhere let me KNOW." He floated towards the window as she watched and he disappeared into a cloud of purple.

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The minions walking around doing their normal routes barely paid attention to their own boss who was currently sitting back in his giant arm chair reading the book in his hands. How Black Holes Are Made And How To Avoid Them. The same one he started in the attic. Once he started reading a book he always made sure to finish it, no matter what opinion he had on it. To him why start it if you won't finish it. 'Sides, the kid wouldn't miss a book she never read from her dark attic. A deep frown On his face and irritation seeping from him as he read a 3 step process about how stars specifically were affected by the darkness of a black hole. ....When footsteps approuched he didn't look up and just kept the scowl on his face.

"So you finally showed up huh?," he asked in an annoyed tone.

"Oh relax. You knew I was coming."

He finally looked up to the smiling pink witch in front of her. "Yes. ....BUT I DIDN'T THINK YOU'D MENTION MOONBOY RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER!!!" He yelled out in anger. "WHAT THE PECK DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?! I THOUGHT WE AGREED YOU WOULDN'T TELL HER OR THAT CORPSE ANYTHING!!!"

"And I didn't tell ANYONE anything," she argued back waving a hand. "All I did was mention his name ONCE. It's not like I went 'Here! Let me spill all the secrets of these ghosts to you and tell Moonjumper all about you'. She probably already forgotten what I said by now." Hazelle walked over until she was right in front of him and sat down on the footstool he always kept in front of his armchair, and looked up to meet his eyes with a blank look. "And I thought YOU were going to talk to HER about him."

"What!? I did talk to her!"

She blinked in surprise. ".....Wait. You did what now? Really?"

"YES!!"

"........" Her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed as she gazed at him suspiciously. "Ok. What exactly did you tell her?"

Snatcher paused for a moment that scowl paving away for a slightly worried look. "I mean-.....Nothing she didn't ask me-"

"Uh huh. And WHAT did she ask you?," she pressed further with that face backing him into a corner he couldn't escape.

"The usual questions you asked when we first met along with everyone ELSE I let live. Where do ghosts come from? How did I die? Things like that."

"And how did you answer?" He remained silent staring down at her and that deadpanned stare turned into a glare and he flinched when Hazelle pointed at her. "You tell me what you told her, Snatcher! I swear! I know this is a sensitive topic but it concerns someone else BESIDES you too and Im not talking about Moonjumper!!"

"Alright! Alright!!".....He sighed and made an almost guilty look that people made when they REALLY did not want to do something. "She asked about how ghosts are formed and I said I don't know which isn't a lie. I don't have any idea. She also asked me if I really ate souls-" Hazelle snorted and he frowned again. "Hey! I couldn't eat other ghosts! That's ridiculous!"

"Is that all she asked?," Hazelle questioned a slight amused from that last sentence.

"I- Uh- W-Well- I mean I don't know if I would consider those actually questions persay- OW!!" His tail pulled itself away when she lightly kicked his tail and gave him a death glare that gave him the impression to just get on with it. "Alright. FINE!! She asked me why I helped her, and how I died.....A-And...If her old prince friend was a ghost too."

Silence rang out as Hazelle blinked eyes going wide and Snatcher looking back down to the book in his lap even though he wasn't reading it anymore. The two old friends still stayed like that for the lonest time and sat there in silence so deathening you could've heard Vanessa yelling 'PRINCE!!' from the few miles away she was in that frozen prison.

"What did you say?"

"What?" he looked up with a dumbfounded look blinking.

Hazelle have him a serious look again but it was a lil softer. "I said WHAT did you tell her? You must've told her something, otherwise you wouldn't have been with her at the meathead's market if it could even be called that. Did you tell her the truth? I sure pecking hope so."

"OF COURSE I DID!! I WOULDN'T LIE TO HER!!"

"Even when you tricked her into that contract?"

"HEY! That was for safety purposes! So it was for a good cause. She's still a free spirit."

"WHAT DID YOU TELL HER YOU PECKING NOODLE!?"

"ALRIGHT!! I TOLD I FROZE TO DEATH BUT NOTHING BEYOND THAT EVEN IF I DID EXPLAIN THE CAUSE OF IT!! AND I TOLD HER MOST GHOSTS DIDN'T HAVE MEMORIES!! SO NO!! I DIDN'T LIE TO HER!! HAPPY?!" He glared at her like he would anything that irritated him.

Hazelle still stared at him with that scowl quietly eyeing him up and down deducting if he was telling the truth or not. "....So....She knows how you died?

"Yes," he growled out.

"So, she knows who you were?"

His face went back to that almost guilty look. "Uh-.....Well not exactly-"

"Not exactly!?" Hazelle face palmed with a groan. "I thought you said you told her how you died."

"I did!"

"And she knows about you freezing to death in the basement?"

"Yes!"

"Then HOW does she NOT know you if you told her?," she demanded peeking at him. "You're confusing me worse than a rubix cude!"

"She asked how the prince friend died and I told her just like her. Locked in a room until the cold kicked in. I just told her I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, which also wasn't a lie, so I never lied."

"........Wait a minute." She looked up fully to him. "Let me get this straight. You told her how YOU died and how her friend which is ALSO YOU died, but told her in a way that didn't let her know YOU ARE YOU?!....That's not helping your situation at all!!!"

"HEY!! What was I supposed to do?! It was sprung on me out of no where!, "he argued back.

"I don't know! Tell her the truth!?"

"I did!"

"SNATCHER!!" Hazelle suddenly stood up and jabbed a poke into his chest with an all too serious look. "Not telling her the WHOLE truth is just as bad! She's gonna think you're two different people!....Well technically you are- But the point is, she's going to see you and her friend as two different individuals which is just gonna bite you in the butt later!"

"Give me some time! I'm still trying to get used to this. If you haven't forgotten there's two people who'll be affected by this."

"........" She sighed and shook her head, backing off and crossing her arms. "Well....You did talk and that's something in of itself considering how pecking stubborn your butt can be. That's a step in the right direction at least." Hazelle gave him a pleading look. "Look. I'm proud you're feeling more open around her, but PLEASE take my advice and don't burn your bridges when the fire can be avoided."

".....Fine. Just....Not now."

Knowing it was no use to press it any further for now. Arguing forever with this stubborn spirit was like trying to drain a dried out an already empty bathtub. Impossible. "Fine. But was there anything else she told you?"

He rolled his eyes with a small smile. "Oh yes. She got into some kind of trouble with that old windbag of a bird and broke something. Now she has to pay it off by being in another fool's play."

".......Seriously!?," she smiled now raising an eyebrow. "I have to stick around you lot more often. I'm missing all the juicy details.~.....In fact that doesn't sound like a bad idea."

"Don't push your luck." Those yellow eyes narrowed.

''I won't. In fact I've been quite helpful with this whole 'My Lover Came Back From The Dead' cliche skit. I haven't said a word."

"And make sure you KEEP it that way!" Snatcher growled and his grip on his book became tighter. If that corpse found out who KNOWS what he'll try to pull. Especially if he spilt all the details to her before he could explain. He didn't see any good outcome from that!

Hazelle waved a hand. "I promise. Witch's honor. Timmy can vouch for that."

He suddenly blanked out.....Timmy...That BOY!! Moonjumper's little oh so polite princey!! He narrowed his eyes again. "And tell that kid not to flap his gums either!"

"Who? Timmy? What would he even talk about? He barely even knows her and only met her for like, two minutes. There's absolutely nothing to worry about with him," She assured him.

Snatcher still didn't look convinced as he looked out the opening of his home out into the woods. "Where is he anyways?"

"We finished our magic training for today so I dropped him off home." snatcher huffed and Hazelle rolled her eyes. "Look. Even if he did say something about her, how much could he say? Your girls have a babysitter? You got a new helper? A woman beat up the mafia? Nothing that really translates to 'Hey! This is the girl you two used to be in love with'."

He hummed. Well....She had a point. When you put it that way, there really was nothing too much to worry about if Moonboy found out about him having a 'helper' or 'babysitter'. He'd never in another thousand years guess it was Poppy of all people. As long as he kept away everything would be fine.

"Besides. What's the worse that could happen?"

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The beautiful silence of the horizon was a rather lonely one when he was all here by himself...Well that's not true. He wasn't always by himself. There was a few of Snatcher's minions forever lost he swiped back in the day, and a few ancient Alpine Goat spirits that occupied the place way longer than he's ever been there, but none of them spoke much, and he always enjoyed the polite company of strangers. Unfortunately those couldn't be forced as he found out rather quickly, but after a long time he didn't need to force those when he finally found a small little family of his own. Timmy was such a polite and good boy. The child he's always wanted if it weren't for HER!! He even had his hair color he used to have when he was a living being like his darling son. Of course he would provide him with all he needs forever as no one else would, and besides his wonderful boy, their was those delightful girls and Snatcher. Snatcher was.....Ok. Being an inferior half of him but nevermind that. He would never know what those dears saw in him. And Hazelle was a nice lady, wonderful. Always knew her way around magic and was a good teacher for his timmy.

The fingers worked like magic knitting the red threads he could summon at will together in the beginnings of a scarf for..someone. He didn't know yet, it was just a nice hobby to pass the time in this vast plain of being while waiting for Timmy to return from his daily lessons with Hazelle. Especially since as of lately he wasn't really feeling up to going out much since that little incident with the tramatizing time piece and Snatcher's oh so splendid idea. He was SO glad to have been transported back here straight away after that, he couldn't BARE to even face Vanessa at any given moment or time. Let's just say he was more than happy to stay here far, FAR away from that crazy peckneck and listen to silence for a good long while. He was more than happy to spend his time knitting away and taking his time to go back out there again.

Click, click, click.

The spirit's red eyes and knitting fingers focused on the small scarf on hand, the only sounds being the clicking of those knitting needles and the chains permanantly clamped on his wrists....And the approuching small footsteps coming right for him. A smile gracing his pale features and those red eyes looking up without stopping those knitting hand.

"Welcome home, Timmy. Were you good while you were out?," the ghost asked the child as he casually walked up to him.

Timmy smiled and nodded. "You betcha! Had a real laugh today actually!"

A clawed, chained hand patted his head before the spirit turned back to his peaceful work. "Good boy. I'm so happy."

"Ran into Bow and Hattie too." He said watching as his ghostly guardian worked along. "They had this new lady with 'em. Never seen her before tho. She threw a Mafia right over her shoulder and dunked him like a ball in a basket, she did when he tried to punch her!"

"Oh really? Hm. That doesn't sound very lady like. " But he still smiled hearing one of those meatheaded brutes had gotten a taste of his own medicine. "But trying to punch a lady isn't very good either, so I guess he had it coming."

"Yeah! It was a real good show! Hattie said something about her being their new nanny or somethin'."

Click, click,click.

"...Oh?" He paused and looked down at him now catching his attention. Snatcher..got those little darlings a nanny? Snatcher? Well, well, well. It seems that shadow finally had a smart idea for once in his existance. Those girls could use someone to look after them when he was off calling everyone fools or doing some other ridiculous thing like that. The edgylord noodle. "Well it seems he had one good brainstorm out of all that hair."

"Mmhm." Timmy was still curiously watching as he went back to summoning threads outta no where and knitting them into something. The next thing he said was just a casual comment thrown into the conversation. "She seemed like a nice person. I think she said her name was Poppy. Like those pretty flowers growing in the Alpine Alps, yeah."

Click, click, cli-

Any limited sounds coming from the moving of the knitting needles and chains came to sudden abrupt halt at that one word. Timmy noticing the sudden stopping of motion from the ghost blinked and looked up at his face. His pale face was frozen staring blankly at his unmoving hands and those red eyes wide. After staring a few seconds into the abyss, Timmy was just about to ask him if he was ok, but the ghost slowly looked at him stopping that.

"Pardon me for asking, but.....Who did you say she was?"

"Uh...Poppy..I think." Timmy reached up to scratch his head. "I'm not sure. Wasn't paying much attention to be honest."

"Tell me, what did she look like?," he said rather quickly giving the boy his fool attention.

"Um..." Timmy crunched his face in thought. "..I don't remember much. Didn't spend much time there, but she was pale with long, red hair."

Moonjumper just stared at him wide eyed for a long silent moment. No......NO! It couldn't be!....Could it? There wasn't any possible way she-...Not after all these years. No. No it must've been some kind of weird strange coincidence. Some other long red haired pale lady sharing the same name. It was quite possible. There was a lot of Philips on his father's side of the family. There was a great chance of a woman with her characteristics having the same name. It couldn't be even remotely slightly possible......Could it?

"Hey. Are you alright there?"

He blinked. "Uh...Y-Yes. Thank you.....But...Please, tell me all you can about this lady?"

[frozenartscapes]

Count Varley loomed over her like he always did. Bernadetta shrank into herself, trying to make herself as small as possible. Maybe he’ll lose interest if he can’t see her.

“More failure, I see,” he growled, reaching down and grabbing her roughly by the wrist, “We will have to do something about that, won’t we?”

She couldn’t even remember why she had to return home to speak with her father. She was far too frightened to think clearly. “F...Father, please!” she begged, “I...I can be good, I swear! Just give me one more chance!”

“I’m through giving you chances,” he said, producing an old rope from behind his back and moving to tie her hands together, “When I’m done with you, no one will ever remember you existed, you miserable little cretin.”

“Hey! Look who’s talking.”

Bernadetta felt the blood leave her face. No. She can’t be here right now. Doesn’t she know what he can do to people like her? Her mind raced back to the little servant boy she befriended, and his poor, broken body at her feet after her father found out.

Dorothea, however, didn’t even flinch under Count Varley’s gaze as his menacing eyes locked onto her. “What did you say, peasant?” he hissed.

“I believe she likened you to a cretin,” Petra said, stepping out from behind Dorothea with a knife drawn, “And while I might not be familiar with that word, there are plenty I can think of to describe you.”

Count Varley scoffed. “Ah. The ‘Princess’ of Brigid,” he sneered mockingly, “I’m surprised that place is cultured enough to even have a monarchy.”

“You’re damn right it is! Certainly more cultured than you, you old bastard!” Caspar’s booming voice made him spin around. Bernadetta felt his grip on her tighten, but fear was starting to creep into his face.

“I would suggest releasing our friend,” Lindhardt said with a tired sigh, “I’d rather not have to, but I will resort to drastic measures if I must. And I know everyone else will, too.”

“I really must insist you do as we say, Count Varley. It would be a great dishonour to House Varley should we have to deal with you.”

Count Varley glared at the newcomer. “Von Aegir,” he spat, “You little nuisance! Our noble Houses have been allies for centuries. You dare defy that now all for my miserable little spawn?”

“Say any more despicable things like that, and they’ll be the last you’ll ever say.” Hubert’s cold, unforgiving voice was enough to finally scare him into releasing Bernadetta.

Bernadetta wasted no time, scooting back on the floor as far from her father as she could get. She was stopped suddenly when she collided with something firm, rigid, unmovable. At first she thought it was a wall. But then the obstacle shifted behind her, and a gentle, gloved hand came to rest on her shoulder.

Her eyes met warm, soft lilac eyes and a comforting smile to match. Bernadetta stared up at her, at the future Emperor, mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find her words. Edelgard merely nodded, giving confirmation to her teammate’s unspoken question.

Her face changed then, as she looked away. As Edelgard’s focus fell on Count Varley, Bernadetta watched her change from the future Emperor to the Emperor. Proud and fierce and bold and powerful. She stepped forward, producing an iron axe from behind her back, and displayed it across Bernadetta’s front, separating her from her father. Edelgard might be short, but she was unmovable now: a wall between Bernadetta and her abusive father.

It was the first time Bernadetta had ever seen her father look small.

“Count Varley,” Edelgard stated, her voice as strong and authoritative as her Empire, “It has come to my attention that all is not well in your Household.” She brandished her axe - a heavy, sharp, deadly thing she hoisted around as if it were as light as a feather. “I think it’s high time we have a little chat about it.”

---

Bernadetta awoke from her dream with a smile on her face. That was...odd. Normally her dreams were terrifying. Twisted, distorted memories of her horrid father and all the things he had done to her.

But this dream...hadn’t been that.

She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so well-rested. She practically leapt out of bed, breathing in a deep sigh of relief. So this is was a good night’s rest felt like! No wonder people recommended it!

She had so much pep and energy in her that morning that she hadn’t even realized she had happily made it about halfway to her morning class and hadn’t once worried about being outside her room. She even said hi to someone! Someone she didn’t know!

Goddess, what was happening to her?

She entered her classroom to find all of the other Black Eagles already there. Hubert and Ferdinand appeared to be bickering about something. Lindhardt was sound asleep at his desk and Caspar was attempting to balance an apple on his head without waking him. Petra was going over her notes, but paused to give her a happy wave of greeting, which Bernadetta shyly returned.

“Bern! There you are!” Dorothea’s eager voice surprised her, causing her to jump a little, but the songstress didn’t seem to notice. “You weren’t at breakfast this morning and they had made those muffins I know you love so much so I swipe a couple extra. Here!” She produced a small brown paper bag, the scent of those heavenly strawberry muffins strong enough to permeate the paper.

“Oh, Dorothea! Thank you!” Bernadetta said happily, “I...I don’t know what to say, really! I mean... I did miss breakfast! You didn’t have to just because I-”

“Bernadetta, it’s ok,” Dorothea assured her, pushing the bag into her hands before she could protest anymore, “I just wanted to look out for you. That’s what friends do, right?”

“R...right...” Friends. She should have panicked at that. She...she shouldn’t be friends with someone like Dorothea, for Dorothea’s own safety. And yet...

“Bernadetta. Good morning,” Edelgard’s voice was calm and cool as always, but her eyes were warm, “I trust you slept well?”

Bernadetta glanced around the room again. At her classmates. Her fellow Eagles. Her friends. People who would drop everything to protect her, and who she would find the courage to protect as best she could.

The people who had appeared in her nightmare last night, and stopped it from being a nightmare.

“Yeah,” she replied, a large smile on her face, “I had the best dream!”

---

AN: From my list of things I wish we could have seen but would have taken way too much work to produce in FE3H: The Black Eagles (or whatever House Bernadetta gets recruited to) going to have a little “chat” with Count Varley after they learn what the bastard did to Bernie.

I have a feeling Edelgard, in particular, wouldn’t exactly be very pleased to hear it.

[p1nkwitch]

If I may one last director's cut: And the Nightmare Collapses? 👁️

Ask as many as you want i dont mind.

Oh my monster au, what to say? I had this in the backburner for a few months now. Originally i was going to make a series of one shots from different characters perspectives.

So first it was going to be Jon waking up from the coma and realizing that everyone were monsters but him sort of like a walking dead scenario. I had the clear picture of him seeing Georgie in her hald deaf state being like, what the fuck happened???

Now the entire idea came to mind with how pissed off i was at everyone in season four acting like Jon was the worst for no discernable reason. Like, Melanie, Basira and Georgie, all treated him in different levels rather cruely. Georgie wasnt so mean, but she was playing blind eye to the whole thing being fucked.

So Jon is the only one who remains human because he tries so hard to keep his humanity despite everything. While everyone else becomes more monstruos, Basira and Melanie in particularly were much more affected, i had a clear vision of a slaughter Mel. But had to keep it brief since Georgie wouldnt want to dwell on her becoming a monster, since now she had no way to deny it. Daisy gets a pass because while on the coffin she regains her humanity by her regret of what she became, its why her changes are minimal in the text.

The other one shots were supposed to be from Elias and Peter perspective with the last being them reuniting.

Now my original idea had no reasoning as to why they were monsters all out sudden. Its not until i realized the potential of the entities just dropping in a world similar enough where they already existed and they end up overcharging, while still carrying the vestigies of the apocalipse that i went like-

Hoy fuck.

Ultimately i am happy with the one shot the way it came out, with Elias being able to see, he was capable of tying up those little threads i wanted to make and make the reference to having an anchor. Anchors tie you to humanity, people are fundamentaly capable of good if they wish too, kindness even in the face of despair, destroys the horrors of the world.

The world wont fix itself, but you adapt and grown and try to make it better.

Now as for the story itself? I just wanted to go buck wild with the scenery of reality fracturing itself and Elias just losing it while perceiving the horrors and understanding far more than possible.

I like eldritch horror i just dont use it enough, or horror shorts in general, maybe i should put up the small ones i made in tumblr they are like a paragraph long each.

For realsies, I really like the idea of monster Elias for several reasons and i wanted to go with it. I have another different take on this verse of how things pan out too, but i will see eventually if i want to write it. There is... also the horny aspec of Peter being, as the fic implies, a monster fucker, not really he just loves Elias whatever shape he comes even if its some weird owl spider thing. If i ever feel brave enough to go thought it in an extra will shall see.

Anyways Jonah goes through life replacing people while manipulating them and toying with their sanity like he did to the ogElias in his interview. Despite being beholding, as per the soup theory, at this point he also represents the stranger, web and spiral fairly well. I have a soft soft for him losing the ability to recognize himself after a while. Because as i pointed out? He kept sort of a more or less stable life, sure, but it must be jarring having to go from one face to another, to have to pretend to be someone else, at least enough that its not glaringly obvious that something is wrong.

So he loses it. The fears overcharge and it all stacks up on him, causing his transformation to be so strong, it ends up consuming him. Not only that but he is vain too, so to be changed into something so horryifing it breaks something else in him, it gives him the idea that no one could want him now, he cant make people do as he says like this, he doesnt know himself and now no one would want to know him anyways. The more he changes the more he loses his sense of self, its not only him, he was so many people it feels weird to be just him, it doesnt fit anymore, so through the story he starts to use they until its what he mainly uses at the end, because he grows and its happy with it by the very end.

His body changes when he doubts himself, the more time it passes the more he forgets. Now the main reason he didnt become a puddle of ink and die, was because as i mentioned he thought about being alone, and it made him think of Peter, that was his last connection, the last thread to a humanity he wasnt sure he still had. When he thinks that he loves him, even if a little, its enough to let him move.

That small lifeline is what actually saved him and what kept him more or less stable for longer that he would have otherwise. Same goes to Peter whos last action before becoming one with his siblings was pick up the phone, the same though went through him, its why even if he was already at the brink of being melded he kept himself alive for longer.

Then there was the idea of copies.

Because, eyes? just the eyes?? I know it works with supernatural energy but, the doubt, the idea or posibility that Jonah Magnus actually died the moment he transplanted his eyes the first time and that Beholding merely put the copied memories of Jonah that it reatained into the new body was such a good concept, i have a special love for it, to not be sure if you are you, but ultimately chosing to live your life despite knowing that you may not be the real one.

I like to point out at the end that he does, that he is the original and that he is not a copy but... its not really proof, Jonah wants to believe it is. Wether is true or not? Thats up to anyone.

Also his monster concept, i toyed with a few options, and ended up adding it somewhat in the final product, originally he was going to be sort of an owl monster sort of mixed with a cat, no not for the joke, i saw really nice fanart of owlcats and i was in love. But as it is i went with something similar to his body in the afterlife beach party.

Instead of tar it was the ink of the letters he wrote, the static remains because he doesnt know his face anymore and he wont again. The fur... i just wanted something nice for later when Peter made his appearence, less sticky more fluffy. 8 arms like a spider, more eyes because of beholding- you get it.

Speaking of Peter!!

Here is the deal, i know or at least believe that the curruption? Is the oposite of the lonely and viceversa. Wanting to be alone vs being consumed by what you love? Perfect.

So the Lukases become amalgamations of fog trapped in a hive mind that they cant escape from. Forced to be together and then to be alone once someone manages to impose themselves like Nathaniel did. Peter could have theorically left his siblings become him, after Elias saw them, but in this, the closenes they shared was enought that he could not do it. <3<3

I wanted to play with the fact that being stuck with so many people, mainly his sisters while slowly melding into one, made him switch from pronouns feeling comfortable in all of them. Lydia, Judith and Clara were all nice and accidentaly he wanted to feel that nice, so he switches more often to her. It too, because at one point he was litreally nothing since the rest were rather happy being one.

Reality check comes and they all realize that, oh shit we fucked him up. Hence the road trip, unfortunately the melding was inevitable, either they became one or someone took charge. Still it gives them time to bond too, which adds to the decision to let them stay with him despite everything. Peter plays into a similar idea, but from a different perspective, you lose yoursef but become a different person. Luka is all of them being at peace with being one, being happy and wanting the same thing, but still mantaining some way to be apart. If i was being sappy i would liken it to a fusion in Steven Universe.

It wasnt as such at first, but later once Peter is the main body they can do it with less fear of dissapearing. It is also true that his feelings bleed out onto them and likewise to him. Its hard being a single being while simultaniously be 5 people in one.

They do love Elias, except for Clara who is mostly just enjoying the company while judging everyones tastes. It is also true that if this hadnt happened they would never have tried it. But life works oddly. Plus they are happy.

The world cant be fixed, but life sort of goes on and people adjust as they can.

Final note? I really, reeeeally wanted to have JME corpses just drop and have everyone freak out. There was a brief idea of having them alive and react to what they did to the world, but i did not want to deal with that many explanations. So yeah, they are dead.

AGAIN SORRY FOR GOING OFF!!! I NEED TO BE STOPPED.

D:

If you want to ask something in particular go ahead i have the ideas still fresh for this one in my head.

[thesoftdumbass]

sincerity is scary ~ 2

Lance Tucker x reader

word count: 1,400

warnings: language, mentions of sex, jealousy and a tiny bit of angst

summary: Lance makes a promise to himself, then. If you want to keep this relationship the way it is, then he’ll leave it alone and take you in any way that you allow him. But if you’re willing to become more, Lance would love to show you that he can be vulnerable and affectionate, reputation and callous pretense be damned.

this is the song that inspired this fic

> masterlist 

part one 

You arrive home from work, taking off your shoes at the entrance and moving toward the laundry room to take off your work clothes when there’s a knock at the door.

But I just got home.

Sighing, you take the few steps back to the front door and peer through the peephole, a little surprised to see Lance standing on the other side. It’s been two weeks since your last hookup that ended in you practically running from his place and you’ve not spent any time together since. You’ve seen each other in the building and exchanged hellos, and it’s not that you’ve been avoiding him but, well, you’ve been avoiding him. Still unsure of whatever changed between you the last time you were together, you’ve all but decided that the little bit of tenderness that Lance showed you was a fluke. He was tipsy and sated and he must have just cuddled you because you were there still. That’s it. That’s all that happened.

Flipping the locks, you open the door and walk away, giving Lance the freedom to walk in and close the door behind him. “Hey Tucker, what’s up?”

He’s no stranger to making himself comfortable in your place, so while you’re once again on your quest for comfy clothes, he walks over to your couch and plops himself down dramatically. “I’m starving!” 

You snort to yourself, coming to a stop in the middle of the living room, but go with it. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, let’s go out and get some food. My treat.”

“You know, I would, but that would be cutting into my ‘sit at home in pajamas’ time. It’s a real shame…” Your reluctance is only half for show, but you always feel the need to give him at least a little bit of a hard time. 

He laughs, seeing through your act. “Come on, we haven’t hung out in forever!” You avert your eyes, humming noncommittally.

Lance stands from the couch then, walking until he’s in front of you and ducking his head until he can look you in the eye. “Hey, we don’t have to go out if you don’t want to. We could order in and watch that show you love. I just wanted to spend time with you cause it’s been a while.”

Sincerity shines through his voice, and you can’t help but bend to his request. A smile slowly works its way onto your lips as your eyes brighten at the thought.

“Yeah, okay.” Lance celebrates with an excited little shout, happiness making itself known in his usual dramatic fashion, and you laugh. “But you’re taking me to Thai Smile, I’ve been craving my usual.”

“Deal!”

“I’m gonna go get changed, I’ve been itching to get out of my work clothes,” you mention, moving to walk past him and into your bedroom when Lance leaves a playful smack to your bottom. The offended scoff you let out sounds fake even to your ears, but you shake your head and narrow your eyes at him anyways.

“I’ll wait for you.”

Lance cringes at the unintended deeper meaning behind his words as you disappear behind your bedroom door. It’s completely true, but you don’t have to know that. He had made it home at a good time today, and since neither of you work tomorrow, he’d decided to try and spend time with you. He can tell you’ve been keeping your distance, but he couldn’t handle if the two of you let your friendship become awkward. When Lance heard you walk past his place to your own, he jumped up, grabbing his wallet and shoes and rushing to greet you. Luckily it went in his favor and now you are spending the evening together. Lance doesn’t have plans beyond dinner, but he’ll be happy to follow your lead.

“My mouth is still burning,” Lance complains as he reaches for the Thai iced tea that you’re sharing, sucking down a few big gulps before you stop him by pulling the drink away.

“You’re supposed to sip this, you’ll make yourself sick if you chug it,” you laugh. “Besides, that’s what you get for ordering an 8 on the spice scale.”

“Well last time I got a 4 and it wasn’t spicy enough, so this time I upped it,” he tries to defend himself.

“Aw sweetheart,” you coo in a teasingly sweet tone, “you’re dumb.”

Lance’s lips, still tingly from the outrageous amount of chili flakes in his food, pull up at the sides at your teasing. He reaches for the drink again with his right hand as you walk back home, transferring the tea into his left, and you allow it. With his right hand now free, he reaches down and entwines his fingers with yours.

You continue walking the way that you were, though now trying to will your face not to turn hot at this new turn in events. As Lance starts to talk about work and how it’s going with one of the new trainers he’s hired at the gym, you try to listen, but your mind wanders away from you. This is not the first time that Lance has casually shown you affection, and this time you can’t help but get your hopes up. If this is a sign that the dynamic between you is changing, you’ll take it. You decide that when you get back home, you’re going to try and broach the subject with Lance and get at least an idea of how he feels. Your mind made up, you tune back in to what Lance is saying, mind clear and focused on the man beside you.

It’s a few minutes later when you hear your name being called by a familiar voice that you look up, coming to a stop in front of someone you know from work and dropping Lance’s hand.

“Oh Avery, hey! How are you,” you ask, a picture of politeness.

“I’m good. Wow, it’s been a while, huh?” The man looks you over, seemingly noting any changes in appearance since you’d last seen each other. He catches the glare that Lance is sending him out of the corner of his eye, turning his eyes back to your face quickly after that.

“Yeah, I’ve not seen you since you got that transfer, right?”

“That sounds about right,” he chuckles. 

The two of you chat for a couple minutes before Avery glances at his watch, eyes lingering on the time. “I’m gonna let you get back to your evening, but we’ll catch up later, okay?”

“Sounds good, I’ll talk to you later.” 

You resume your walk home, sensing Lance moving with you, though he remains silent. You try to make conversation a couple times, but Lance’s responses are either nonverbal or short and clipped. One time when your hands accidentally brush, he wrenches his hand away as though he’s been burned. It hurts, the way he’s withdrawn, and you don’t care to examine your feelings about it too closely. You only know you won’t like what you find.

By the time you reach your shared floor in your apartment building, you’re still unsuccessful in getting him to talk to you, so you try one last effort to get things back to normal. “Do you wanna come in and watch something? I’ve got Avatar: The Last Airbender queued up on Netflix,” you offer, stopping in front of your door.

“Nah, I’m good.” Lance continues on to his own door further down the hall and barely turns his head to speak to you, his response once again cold and makes your heart sink further in your chest. 

“Aww c’mon Tucker, I thought you wanted to hang out tonight,” is your last attempt at getting the night back to the light-hearted nature you’re used to.

Stopping in front of his door, Lance finally turns to face you after practically pretending you don’t exist for the past fifteen minutes. “I just remembered that I’ve gotta work tomorrow, so I should head to bed.”

“You never work on Saturdays, except during tournament season.”

Lance’s jaw ticks in irritation at you calling out his bullshit and your eyes harden at the disdain that you see on his face. “Yeah, well, I’ve gotta run some errands. Pick up new mats and such. But we’ll catch up later, okay?”

The sarcastic overture in his voice turns your head as you start to wonder what in the hell is wrong with him, with the two of you, but the words register just in time for the sound of his door closing to echo through the hallway.

Lance won’t admit that he might’ve shut his door with a little more force than was necessary, the noise likening to a slam resounding through his pounding head. He also won’t admit that he’s being petty, jealousy surging through him like a river. But that’s not right, right? 

He has no business being jealous. It’s not like you’ve laid a claim on each other. You’re friends with benefits, and even though Lance would like to become more than that in your eyes, it hasn’t happened yet. He can’t help it, though. That man was eyeing you like you were a prize and all the same you were making a nice conversation, unaware or maybe uncaring about the way that “Avery” obviously wanted you. Lance’s blood was boiling, but now that’s been reduced to a simmer, his bones aching with the feeling of not being good enough, not being wanted by you. What if his reluctance to be in a relationship up until now has put you off any feelings you might’ve had for him, and he’d lost his chance? 

Lance moves further into his apartment, placing his keys on the table and shaking his head of those thoughts. If you didn’t care about him at all, you wouldn’t have tried so hard to keep the night feeling normal. And what had Lance done? Act like an asshole, that’s what. He needs to apologize. Tonight he would give himself time to cool off further, and in the morning he would go to your place and apologize. Maybe if he brought coffee and muffins it would go even better and you both could have a conversation, clearing the air. His mind made up, Lance walks into the kitchen to throw out the remnants of the Thai iced tea, making his way to the bedroom as he solidifies the plan in his head.

He’s interrupted by several loud knocks on his door, brow furrowing as he looks through the peephole and finds you there, mouth set in a firm line and eyebrows drawn low in irritation. Well, there goes that plan.

Lance twists the door handle, apologies spilling from his mouth before he could even get it all the way open.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’ve been a jerk tonight and-”

“What crawled up your ass and died, Tucker?”

part 3 

author’s note: So it looks like I’ve found it in me to write some more for this! Be on the lookout for at least one more chapter coming soon. I know a lot of authors are participating in a fanfiction blackout during June (which I support), and there’s a lot of fucked-up stuff happening in the world, but if I don’t post this now, then I’m honestly going to forget to. Like always, I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to stick around and read when I post the next part!

Thank you for reading! Please leave likes and comments/reblogs and let me know if you liked it 🖤

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[cutietobio]

Can you do something (scenario or headcanons, which ever one is easier for this) with Daishou and reader being frenemies. Like they both act like they hate each other but in reality they both like each other. And whenever they are confronted by their friends about likening each other they just scoff and roll their eyes. When one of them see the other do that they feel kind of hurt and realize they like the other. (I feel that doesn't make sense, but I hope you get some of it, sorry) Thanks!

I felt like writing angst so I left it unresolved because I was kinda conflicted on how it should end. Please feel free to request a part 2!

DAISHOU

“What about (Name)?”

You pause at the mention of your name, stepping back behind the coverage of the corner you were just about to step out from. You peer behind the wall, eyes locking onto Daishou and a few of his idiot friends. Your jaw clenched in mild anger, of course, if anyone was talking about you behind your back, it was these goons. You debated walking away and not listening to whatever they had to say about you, but something urged you to stay - a sudden interest in what Daishou thought said about you when you weren’t in earshot. 

He was always quick to insult you face to face, but you couldn’t help but wonder...or perhaps hope that he didn’t do so when you weren’t around. 

“What about her?” Daishou sneered, his face crinkling up in obvious disgust - however, you didn’t pick up on how unnaturally forced his reaction appeared. Your heart dropped, not expecting good things to be said from here on out. You should have just taken the first sign that he wouldn’t say good things about you and left, but instead, your feet were glued to the spot, eager to hear more - no matter how much it hurt you.

“You’re always fighting with her, but come on, do you really hate her that much? Or maybe you’re both trying to hide the fact that you like each other,” his friend laughed out, and your eyes fell over to him. You swallowed nervously, his assumption is true - in your case, at least.

Daishou scoffed out in offence, crossing his arms. “Why would you think that you idiot? This isn’t playschool, I’m not mean to the girls I like,” Daishou rolled his eyes, “It’s true that I hate her that much, she’s annoying. So, don’t assume anything so stupid again.” 

His friend lifted his hands in mock surrender, “No need to get so defensive, Daishou,” his friend smirked. “Fine, I believe you. I won’t bring it up again.”

Daishou overlooked him in a second of silence, before dropping his crossed arms and allowing his facial features to soften up, “I suppose you’re not as dumb as you act. I can’t believe you brought me here to talk about crap, come on, let’s g-” Daishou’s words hitched in his throat as he caught a glimpse of you from behind the corner. As soon as you noticed you had been spotted, you took off.

Daishou was left feeling conflicted, should he run after you and prove that all he just said was a lie? He looked towards his friends, who stared at him with questioning gazes. 

“You alright man?” It seemed they didn’t notice you, Daishou bit the inside of his cheek, looking back towards where you had been standing - he was sure he caught a glimpse of tears in your eyes. 

[vincentvangodot]

Adapted from a twitter thread, my thoughts for Good Friday this year.

I'll never forget a conversation I saw on twitter years ago, between a theologian trying to explain that the scandal of the Cross is that Christ was crucified in exactly the manner of 'common criminals' and a layperson determined to 'esteem it higher' than earthly things. What Christ accomplished on the Cross is indeed above all else, and no one was claiming that other executions had the same eternal effect. But consider that He shared the hill with criminals whom He likened to Himself and welcomed into Heaven.

[The rest of this post will discuss capital punishment and state violence and killer cops, in case you reasonably wish not to see such things.]

Consider that crucifixion was equivalent to hanging or the firing squad or lethal injection. Consider, given its public nature, that it was equivalent to cops killing people in the street without due process. Consider that the Lord chose the death He would die.

"Whatsoever you do to the least of these, you do unto Me", He said, and proved it by coming in the form of 'the least of these', sharing His life and table with 'the least of these', dying as and among 'the least of these'. By refusing to connect the Cross to other crosses, the Crucifixion to other crucifixions, we become incapable of seeing Christ in modern victims of state violence. When the Romans killed Him, it wasn't for being G-d (they didn't think He was), but for being a problem.

(When we pretend anyone but the Roman state was responsible for His death we become complicit in millennia of Christian antisemitism and we need to stop that also.)

If you can't see Christ in Michael Brown, or George Floyd, or Tamir Rice, then in my opinion, you've missed His message entirely and should maybe start over. Remember that He was a criminal despite being without sin and you'll begin to get the picture. It's beyond me how anyone can see Him speaking to His mother from the Cross and act like He was the only one in that position. Like no one else has a family and a life they deserve to live, even if they're deemed criminals.

The Cross is more than a cross, for sure. But in appearance, form, and earthly consequence, it was identical, and that was the point. The ones who hewed the wood didn't know it would be a Cross, because He wasn't differentiated - he died as a common criminal. His own disciples didn't know He would rise, and most didn't believe Mary when she told them she'd seen Him, even though He'd explicitly told them He would return. And you want me to believe His death looked, to human eyes, different from the thieves next to him?

As with most of my posts and threads like this, I don't have a set ending. I'm not a priest or even a homilist, just extremely opinionated. It just feels blasphemous to be a Christian without working to end state violence, without seeing Christ in the victims.

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Pain

A/N: this was requested by @reddie-fangirl24​ thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

Summary:  Can you write a fix where Richie has to tend to Eddie’s wound. After being discharged from the hospital the wound still requires mending by doctors orders.

Being stabbed by an intergalactic monster, Eddie decided, was no fun at all. He groaned, trying to pull himself upright for the fifth fucking time, and he was getting irritated. It finally worked this time, though the stitches in his abdomen protested against the movement, and all Eddie really wanted to do was lie back down.

He was still so tired, even after a week of being discharged, and two weeks before that him being in the hospital. The doctor had warned him about the side effects of the medication, that it would make him dead tired and would make him feel like he was out of it, but the stab wound hurt way too much to go without it.

He was gradually taking less and less of the painkiller, but Eddie didn’t feel any more energized. He was crawling out of his skin. When he woke up in the hospital, both Richie and Myra by his bedside, he had mumbled that he wanted a divorce, before promptly falling back asleep. Richie later told him that Myra had a fit, and Richie himself had been freaking out, but all Eddie was aware of was utter and overwhelming contentment.

He had survived pennywise, claimed he wanted a divorce, and he was fairly certain that the man he had been in love with since he was twelve was in love with him too. Eddie was ready to jumpstart into his new life, to move out his stuff, to find a new job and to go on a vacation with his new boyfriend because goddamnit they deserved it.

After everything they had been through, they fucking deserved it. But it turns out that getting almost deadly wounded took a lot more energy than Eddie had accounted for, and so he spend his days in a haze, even despite the fact that he wanted to be fully aware of Richie at all times.

It made him feel guilty towards Richie, that he didn’t really do anything besides eat, sleep and get his bandages replaced. Which he couldn’t even do himself. It was Richie who needed to disinfect the giant scar just under his chest, and above his major organs.

Eddie didn’t really want him to do that. Not because he didn’t trust Richie, in fact Richie had never left his bedside when he was in the hospital, so he knew Richie was perfectly capable of doing it, but he didn’t want Richie to feel like his caregiver.

They were supposed to be in the honeymoon phase, the weeks were they couldn’t keep their hands of each other and would go on dates and actually do stuff together, but Eddie couldn’t. And he was getting tired and sick of not doing anything. Which is why he forces himself of the bed, stumbling towards the bathroom, hoping that the disinfect and cream lay there, because he was convinced he wouldn’t be able to walk towards the living room.

Richie’s t-shirt, in which he slept and so spent pretty much the entire day in, was sliding of his shoulders, but he didn’t bother trying to fix it. Eddie was already heaving, leaning against the wall with a huff.

He refuses to give up though, taking a second to prepare himself before walking forward again. He hopes there’s a long line at the supermarket, and that Richie won’t be home for a little while. If he saw Eddie out of bed he’d freak out.

When Eddie finally makes it out of the bathroom, he feels like could cry from happiness. He sits down harshly at the edge of the bathtub, wincing when it jolts his body, but at least he made it.

Their cat, which Richie annoyingly dubbed Mouse, much to his delight and Eddie’s annoyance, comes crawling up the bathtub next to him. For some reason the cat had taken a liken towards Eddie, and it was rare that Eddie woke up and Mouse wouldn’t be there.

Eddie grins and reaches out towards her, petting her soft fur. When Richie told him that he had a cat living in his house, Eddie had expected to be revolted by the furred beast, and he was convinced that the feeling would be mutual. Instead of that happening, he got home, and fell a little in love with Mouse, and Mouse fell a little bit in love with Eddie. Richie could relate.

Mouse looks up at Eddie, seemingly mocking him a little, as if she’s saying; ‘what are you going to do now you idiot’?

Eddie nearly laughs, thanking god that he’s home alone so Richie can’t see him being affectionate towards an animal.

He glances towards the clock on the wall, an ugly old brown colored thing that he inherited from his mother. It was the only thing he really took from Myra’s house, not because he was sentimentally attached to it, but because he somehow wanted to stick it to his mom.

Hanging something she was so fond off in their house, the house Richie and Eddie share, feels like a pretty big fuck you to her.  

The clock just strikes 3 p.m., and Eddie knows he has to hurry. Richie should be getting home in tops 30 minutes, and though Eddie wouldn’t be able to keep Richie from noticing he had been out of bed, he wanted to be back in it so he could avoid part of the lecture.

The lecture he’s expecting to get from Richie doesn’t fill him with as much dread as the one’s from his mother and Myra. Richie would never make him feel the way they did, but Eddie knew that Richie would at least want to be there when Eddie tried to get out of bed on his own for the first time, just in case something would go wrong. But if he had to stare up at the ceiling for one more hour, he would have lost it.

He hopes Richie will bring the cheeseballs he’s desperately craving, maybe if he’s lucky Eddie would be able to stay awake long enough to watch a movie with him. Eddie shakes his head determinately, he has to focus on the task at hand.

Without getting up from the his spot on the bathtub, he reaches forwards towards the cabinet. He’s seen Richie do it enough times to know by heart where he placed all the stuff. He has a little trouble opening the cabinet, his fingers just too short. He contemplates getting up, but he’s already tired and he wants to save his energy as much as possible. Mouse jumps up from beside him, running out of the room. ‘Thanks for your help’, Eddie yells after her, but he’s laughing while he says it.

He manages to lodge open the bathroom cupboard, a towel falling out as soon as he does. Eddie huffs, but he doesn’t try to pick it up, that would require his body to bend way more than he is capable of doing right now.

He’s already thinking about how he’s going to pester Richie about it, trying to grab all the products he need, when he abruptly loses his balance. Eddie yelps, his arms thrown up, grasping at air. It doesn’t help, he fall backwards into the bathtub, and though it’s not that deep, the fall causes him to groan out in agonizing pain, his wound feeling like it’s about to be ripped open. He lies at the bottom of the bath completely motionless, his legs thrown over the edge. In the living room, Mouse yelps at the ruckus coming from the bathroom.

He must have blacked out for a bit, for he wakes up to his face being liked by Mouse. It says enough about how bad he feels, when he doesn’t even try to push Mouse away. Instead, he starts crying. He thought his wound hurt bad before, but he had never felt this kind of pain before. He furiously wipes at his eyes, trying to stop to tears so he can think with a clear head, but the pain in his back is all consuming.

He suddenly really wishes that Richie would get home. Mouse must sense that something bad is opening, because Eddie doesn’t respond to any licks she gives, so she lays her head on Eddie’s arm, which is curled around his abdomen.

Eddie would be grateful if he could process it. He tries to get up, but the pain is too insistent, so he instead lies there, trying to take a peak at the clock, but not quite managing too. He can hear his mom cackling laughter. Her delight in his pain. It makes him want Richie even more.

When Eddie doesn’t hear anything ten minutes later, he knows that he needs to get up. He can’t lie in the position he’s fallen in without damaging anything, so he takes a deep breath and tries with all his might to get out. He screams, his voice nearly giving out under the sound.

‘Eddie’, he hears a worried voice bellow. He’s siting back in the position he’s started in, just with way more pain than before. ‘Richie’, he says quietly, watching as Mouse runs out of the bathroom again. Richie appears but a second later. His eyes widen when he sees Eddie. For a second his face turns pale white, and Eddie is worried he might pass out. He doesn’t thankfully.

He runs towards Eddie dropping op his knees and placing his hand right above Eddie’s healing wound. ‘Eds’, he mutters, his eyes darting all over Eddie, trying to access the damage. ‘I’m sorry’, Eddie whispers, feeling embarrassed and disappointed in himself. Richie look sup sharply, leaning forward and pressing his mount to Eddie’s quick and soft, trying to reassure him. He doesn’t speak, which is unlikely for him. It stresses Eddie out.

‘Okay baby, it’s okay. I’m going to get you back to bed.’ He waits for Eddie to nod, which he does, before sliding his arms under Eddie’s armpits and knees. He tries to keep himself as steady as possible, which Eddie finds sweet, even though his attempts don’t help much.

Eddie grips Richie shirt hard, to help with the pain, and Richie sobs when he sees it. ‘I’m sorry Eds, I’m going to do everything I can to make you feel better okay?’ Eddie doesn’t nod, but he does believe Richie when he says that.

When they reach the bed, again, and Richie has manages to discard Eddie, he gets up again, shushing him when Eddie whines. He promises he’ll be back in a minute, and then he runs, actually runs. Eddie laughs despite himself, knowing that he doesn’t have to go through the pain alone anymore. When Richie comes back with a whole hurray of stuff. Some of it is his usual tend to wound supplies, but he also has ice with him, Eddie’s medicine, a couple of movies, and Eddie’s cheeseballs.

Richie smiles at Eddie, trying to mask how worried his feeling. He gets some water, and then presents the medicine along with it. Eddie hesitates, knowing how tired the medicine will make him, but then he’s reminded of how much his injury is burning, so he takes it anyway.

He shuffles up a bit on the bed, giving enough room for Richie to change the bandages. Richie’s hand trembles, as it always does when he might hurt Eddie. Eddie is starting to get worried that Richie is mad at him, because he still hasn’t said much since arriving. It’s then that Richie speaks up.

‘Why would you do that Eds? If you wanted to do this yourself you could have just told me.’ He’s not making eye contact, still focusing on the task at hand. Eddie’s entire body starts to shake. He sighs.

‘I’m sorry Rich’, he hisses when Richie pulls off the last part. Richie smiles apologetic, saying sorry, and presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. It looks like his wound is bleeding a bit, and Eddie almost panics, before he realizes that it’s just the small scratch Mouse gave him that has reopened. He nearly cries out in relief.

‘I just didn’t want to always depend on you. You’re not my caretaker, and I feel really stupid about doing nothing all day and letting you do all the work. I just wanted to start doing it on my own.’

Eddie feels elated to talk about it, but he knows he owns Richie an explanation. He suddenly feels really guilty. Richie has been nothing but thoughtful to him, and he just said he didn’t need his help.

Richie smirks, and Eddie knows what is about to come out of his mouth. ‘It’s okay Eds, your mom always asked me to take care of her too.’

Eddie rolls his eyes hard, and Richie takes advantages of the Eddie’s distraction to pour the disinfection over his wounds. He turn serious all of  a sudden.

‘I’m sorry Eddie, if you wanted me to stop being so fussy. I just wanted to help. Look how about this, you starts cleaning your wound, and walk around and stuff, and I won’t help you unless you ask, but I get to be in the house with you. That way if anything happens I’m here. I’m sorry if I reminded you of your mom,’ Eddie tries to interject, but Richie doesn’t give him a change.

‘But next time please tell me, don’t do stuff likes this when you know you’re not ready. If you want me to leave then I’ll do that, I just love you too much for you to hurt yourself.’

Richie seems like he’s tearing up a bit, and so is Eddie, so he tries to diffuse the situation. ‘You big sap’, he says too Richie, pulling him forward to press his lips to Richie’s. Richie taste like strawberry’s, and something distinctively Richie, and Eddie can’t get enough.

‘Of course I don’t want you to go, I love you too idiot.’ Eddie says sincerely, maintaining eye contact to prove to Richie that he means it.  

‘Do you want to start today?’ Richie asks, grabbing the cream and new bandages. Eddie shakes his head, his eyes feeling very heavy.

‘No’, he yawns, the medicine has finally kicked in. He hears Richie chuckle, after he closes his eyes, and Richie gets to work. He can feel the cream being spread, and though it normally hurts, Richie is so careful that it feel kind of nice. It makes Eddie feels even more tired, but he tries very hard to stay awake. He wants to watch a movie with his boyfriend.

He falls asleep anyway.

He wakes up 4 hours later, when it’s already dark outside. He’s pressed against Richie side, having his hair played with. The pain is only slightly there. When Richie notices that he’s awake, he grins, dipping down to give Eddie a kiss.

‘Hey there sleeping beauty’, he teases, grabbing hold of three DVD’s on his side of the bed. He holds it up above Eddie’s head, and it takes a while before Eddie’s eyes can focus on the words. The shining, 16 wishes and Lilo and stitch. The choices are widely spread, but it’s something so Richie, Eddie can’t help but love it. He ends up chooses Lilo and Stitch, even though he knows he won’t stay awake long enough to watch all of it.

‘I’m sorry we haven’t been on an actual date yet. This supposed to be our honeymoon phase, what if I’ve ruined our relationship because of this?’, Eddie murmurs after Richie has put on the DVD, and grabbed the cheeseballs Eddie’s been craving all week. Usually, Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead eating in bed, but he knows that Richie would buy him a new bed of he wanted to, and he also knows he won’t be able to get out of bed.

‘Are you kidding me? Eds we’re hanging out all the time. Sure you’re asleep, but I’m not. I love this too. I mean, I hate that you’re hurt, but we are spending time together and it doesn’t matter what we’re doing. This is just as much a date as anything else is.’

Eddie smiles brightly feeling better thanks to Richie’s words. ‘Besides, the honeymoon phase? You mean the phase where you can’t stop touching each other? I’m pretty sure that has been us forever. Even when we were kids, I’m pretty sure that’s going to keep going, no matter how long we’re together. I swear your mom was so jealous when she says us together all the time.

‘And you’ve ruined it asshole,’ Eddie says, but he can’t help the fond feeling spreading through him. He’s lucky to have him.