#i'm always torn with these two and stuck in a back and forth of not liking them as friends. or as a ship. vs actually liking them together

[sungbeam]

𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲

ji changmin x gn!reader

1.3k words, est. relationship au, hurt/comfort, minor fluff but more angst?, a bit of silliness, mentions of work pressures, neck kisses, intimacy, mentions of playful biting, pretty much not beta'd or proofread (past my bedtime; written in an hour)

a/n: @kimsohn saw some of the goofiness first <3 ily (*breathes in deeply* idk what im doing guys. anyways, this belongs in the category labeled "i get yappy and sappy when im existentially exhausted")

In the dark, the clock on top of the oven screamed “3:22AM” in angry, red light. You stumbled past it, vision blurry and footsteps as quiet as you could make them against the hardwood. Your bones ached to the marrow and you could feel the blood throbbing violently in your skull; you could not sleep.

It had been three hours of tossing and turning before you completely gave up and slipped out into the kitchen. Usually, it wasn't too difficult for you to fall asleep, but alas, there would always be exceptions.

You managed to find the opened bag of tangerines on the kitchen counter, the orange, wiry mesh already torn from the last person who'd grabbed one to snack on. As your eyes grew accustomed to the dark, you dug your nail into its skin and began to peel it open.

Through your daze, you just barely registered the sound of the bedroom door opening—footsteps followed after and came closer; they weren't trying to stay quiet like you were, as there wasn't any reason to anymore. Hands patted you down from your shoulders to your arms until they could settle comfortably around your waist; his body slid flush against your back like a puzzle piece, still warm from being in bed. Hair tickled the underside of your jaw as he nestled his chin into the crook of your shoulder, the ghost of his breath fanning across your skin like a caress, relieved.

“Did I wake you?” You murmured, forcing yourself awake a little as you felt him lean more of his weight against you.

A low hum. “Bed got cold.”

The corners of your mouth tilted upward as you stuck a piece of fruit into your mouth—it was summer; the bed couldn't have been cold. Juice spilled over your tongue in a comfortingly sweet tang, and you went for another. “Sorry, love. Do you want some?” You asked, holding onto a piece of tangerine.

“Mm-mm,” Changmin hummed, shaking his head with a slight movement. You felt his arms give your body a squeeze. “Are you okay?” He asked, voice small.

You shoveled the remainder of the tangerine half into your mouth, hands reaching for another one to keep yourself busy as you chewed, then swallowed. “Tired.”

“Is it the thing?”

Just the thought of the thing—the project you were given charge of at work—made you wish the ground would swallow you up. Your hands stilled on the orange.

The project was the first you were given a manager role for, as they thought it appropriate because you came up with the idea, but it seemed to only be an excuse to overload you with every Herculean task they could think of. You were practically chained to your cubicle desk until day's end, only leaving to go to the bathroom and attend another god forsaken meeting. Where home was supposed to be for rest, you were often slumped over the dining table, stressing yourself silver.

The thought of Monday… no, you couldn't think of Monday. You'd gone so long working on this thing—how could they make you loathe an idea that you proposed?

At your lack of an answer, there came a small breath against your neck. His thumb gently rubbed your side back and forth, the ebb and flow of the tide. “I'm sorry, baby. I know it doesn't mean much, but I'm proud of you.”

“It does mean something,” you countered quietly, and moved one of your hands to place it over his that rested over your stomach. “I'm just—I hate it here sometimes.”

The two of you seemed to sigh at once, your chests raising up then deflating in tandem. It made the knots in your shoulders loosen for just a moment, and you could release some of the strain keeping you tight and awake.

“One more,” he coaxed lowly. “In—”

You both slowly pulled air up through your nose to fill the caverns in your chests.

“—Out.”

As all things came and went, so too did this breath.

“Good,” he murmured, his lips pressing something sweet against your throat.

You were too tired to cry, but you might have just then. Sometimes it was just a project, but other times it was everything to you. It was born from your two hands, your brains, your back, your bones. Plenty of blood, sweat, and tears had seeped into every proposal and presentation, but you could never tell if it was enough. Would it ever be enough?

Changmin's head shifted as you snuck another piece of orange past your lips. “Remember,” he said, “when we were in college, and I let you text girls on my Hinge?”

Your mouth sweetened into a smile at the memory. “It was only because I let you text the guy who'd given me his number.”

“He was so lame—he clearly just wanted you to go see that new Stephen King movie so he could hold your hand.” You could feel him roll his eyes in the dark, though his voice remained syrupy with sleep.

You held back a snort. “That's the point, hon. If I remember correctly, the pick-up lines I used on those girls actually worked.”

“Crazy.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. You chewed on the next piece of fruit, swallowing it down before speaking again. “At least one of us has game.”

You felt the light pressure of his teeth against your shoulder, and you let out a surprised laugh. You didn't jerk away though—awfully used to your partner's strange language of affection—but you did push back against his forehead in lighthearted reprimand. “We talked about the biting.”

“Yeah, and you said you liked it.”

It was a good thing you didn't have fruit in your mouth. You warmed the slice of orange in your palm as you let the heat leave your cheeks and your neck. He could undoubtedly feel how flushed you were, and he seemed to preen at it.

“Gotcha,” he said smugly, and the smile on his lips molded against your skin as he left a kiss behind your ear. He nuzzled his nose there, too, fingers dancing along your side.

“I love you,” he said next. These words were quiet again. “I hate seeing you like this.”

You knew he meant the state he found you in—hunched over in the dark, eyes glazed over, and dread thrashing in your ears to fill the silence. The laughter that lit up your face just now had been his doing, his attempt at easing all of that burden.

You laid your head against his. “I love you, too.” You hated feeling this way, but some things had to be done. You had to see this one through, and you would.

“Don't run yourself ragged for this,” he said, as if reading your mind. “Can't let you lose yourself.”

The corners of your eyes prickled, your vision going blurry again. Your chewing slowed and you finished the last of the orange in your hands to clear the way for him to grab your fingers to intertwine them with his. He rocked your bodies slowly, dreamily—he was the gentle swaying of the waves beneath the raft you laid upon—and he was keeping you above water.

“Senior year of high school—” a miniscule break in his own voice, “—when college decisions came out… you didn't speak for so long, didn't eat. It was so quiet, and I—I didn't know how to help you.” Back then, the two of you were only labeled as best friends; you still hadn't decided if what you had back then was what you had now, but it was love in some form of the word and feeling. You supposed in every phase of knowing Ji Changmin, what you felt for him was love. “Can I help you now, please? How can I help you?”

You sucked in a breath and it came out trembling. “I'm just tired.”

“Yeah.”

“Just—that’s all. Just be here with me.”

You could feel his slight nod that turned into a tuck into your shoulder. Your pulse fluttered beneath the brush of his lips, his hands tightening around you. (I'm not going anywhere, not without you.)

In a night quickly dissolving into daylight, he held you and held you and held you.

tbz m.list

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[katerina-marie]

The Tragedy of a Duality

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader and (Past) Ryomen Sukuna x Female Reader

Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3, Chp 4, Chp 5, Chp 6, Chp 7 (Final)

In the present, you are a sorcerer and the cherished wife of the Honored One. In an era long gone, remembered by only one, you were ordinarily human and the beloved bride of the King of Curses. How fitting it would be, in an evening of destruction, to have your heart torn in two.

Content: JJK Universe and Canon Events (tho tweaked to incorporate reader), Fluff, Angst, Flashbacks, Ambiguous ending, Violence, Death, Female reader but left descriptively vague, No use of y/n, True Form Sukuna in the past, Itadori Yuji is Sukuna's vessel in the present but nothing inappropriate b/n reader and Itadori as the vessel.

WC: 4.4k

A/N: Me, drafting this post: Eh, it's probably not that bad. I'm just a baby when it comes to angst.

The Final Chapter

Just like the surrounding camp, the inside of your tent is mostly quiet and settled. Your breathing has just begun to even out, and you rest on your stomach with your face pressed into the crook of Sukuna’s shoulder. Two of his hands are tucked behind his head while one cups your rear and the tips of nails on his right tickle the skin of your hip. The two you bask in the warmth of each other and the last tingles of shared pleasure. 

“Sukuna,” you whisper, letting your lips brush across the skin of his chest. You feel his answering hum under your cheek at the same time it reaches your ears, and his hand slides upwards to rub at the small of your back. “What are we going to do when we return home?” 

“Whatever pleases you,” he replies instantly, and you smile.

“If I want to go see the ocean after we have recovered from our travels?”

“Then I will take you to it when the weather turns warm.” Sukuna pauses in consideration. “But do not ask me to frolic in the water.”

You giggle, but it turns into a pleasant sigh when he kneads the muscles of your back. Your eyes feel heavy and you nestle in closer to him.

“If I want to plant every flower in existence in the gardens outside our chambers?” 

“Then I shall send the gardeners to the ends of the earth to procure every such type for you.” 

“And if I want—,”

Sukuna interrupts you by pressing his lips against yours and pulling you up further onto his chest. When you break apart, his fingers trail down your cheek and then grab a hold of your chin so he can tip it upwards so you meet his eyes. You think they are the gentlest they have ever looked.

“Whatever you desire, whatever you seek—ask it of me and I shall give it to you. There is no limit to what I would do for you.” His words fill your chest with effervescent joy, and you murmur back gratitude and adoration. 

“Whatever we do not accomplish will wait for us in the next life, and the one after that, and so forth. I will always find you.” Sukuna’s last words to you follow you into sleep, so it is no wonder how you dream of your days with him. 

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

Weekends at home with Satoru are your favorite. 

The two of you sleep soundly into the morning, and it is always a toss up of whether or not you can slip from Satoru’s grip without waking him up. You consider it a mild success if you’re able to brew a cup of coffee and take the first sip before he is wrapping his arms around your shoulders to pull you back against his chest. You rest your head against his shoulder and he steals a drink of your coffee. He feigns retching just like he always does, his appetite only whetted by sugar and more sugar.

Sunshine spills in through your windows and bathes the kitchen and living room in soft morning light. The sink drips ever so slightly because you missed shutting it off completely, and soft music filters in from a little speaker you keep on the counter. Stuck to the side of the fridge is a small calendar, and you are thrilled that it finally reads “October.”

“What should we do today?”  

Satoru makes a contented sound as he sets your mug on the counter in front of you. “It’ll be cool outside today. We can go for a walk?” he offers. His hands skate up over your hips to squeeze gently at your waist.

The idea is tempting. Autumn has always been your favorite time of year, and the prospect of feeling the briskness of the air on your skin excites you like no other. But you have more fantastical ideas in mind.

“If I want to take a trip north to have that dish we had on our honeymoon?” you ask playfully. Satoru chuckles in your ear and nips at it in a way that has you squirming.

“I think we could probably make it there and back in time for class on Monday.” His lips dip to your neck, and you lean your head back farther to allow him to reach more skin.

“And if I want to hop on a plane and lie on a beach somewhere warm?”

Satoru pauses this time and lifts his head. 

“I think we could make that work,” he says slowly. “Things have been quiet at school lately and I could force—I mean ask—Nanami to cover the first year’s training for a couple days.” 

Quiet is accurate. Sukuna has hidden himself away, and you don’t know how to feel about it when you know it’s because of you.

Satoru’s hands wander, and you bat at them, giggling at the way his fingers sneak under your shirt to tickle at the skin on your stomach. His laughter is rich and never fails to set your heart alight. When one hand reaches up to tilt your cheek in his direction so he can kiss you, you melt against him. 

“If I want to spend all day in bed with you?” you ask, breathless in the best of ways, and maybe such grand vacations can wait. 

Satoru turns you in an instant and wastes no time in dragging you back towards the room the two of you just left, and there is a wicked gleam in the blue of his eyes that matches the grin rounding his cheeks. 

“Who am I to ever deny you?” 

You kiss him fiercely because Satoru has never denied you anything, and you are too lost in him to be aware of anything else, to consider doing anything beyond twining all of yourself with him. After all, you know there is nothing but time for the two of you to accomplish everything you want together. 

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

Everywhere you look, the city you love is nothing but carnage. Bodies lay strewn across one another in piles of mangled gore and puddles of blood threaten to soak your shoes. You sprint over asphalt and each step deeper into Shibuya sends blistering panic through your body. There’s a pull in your chest that began just minutes ago and intensifies exponentially. It’s urging you forward to somewhere…someone. There are images in your head you cannot quite understand or make clarity of, but what you know them to be is an unequivocal truth. The memories come to you in fragmented pieces that you can’t connect together yet. You’re losing count of how many fingers Itadori Yuji is somehow consuming, and your focus is being split into inordinate directions.

“Do you have a habit of stealing fruit that doesn't belong to you?” 

The only sound left in the normally busy station is your frantic breathing and the slapping of your shoes on tile. Your eyes sweep over various entrances and exits, and there are multiple staircases slicked with blood of human and cursed kind. Rationality is fading, allowing for fear to drive your decisions, and you decide to move further down into the station.

Four arms and too many eyes. It should repulse you, send you fleeing, but something about him is enticing. He looks at you as though he thinks the same.

A long stairway looms in front of you and you take them two at a time, your hand gripping the railing to keep you upright when a step lands wrong or your balance tips forward. What is real and what is memory are superimposed together in front of your eyes, and trying to discern between the two has you staggering. 

“Wed yourself to me.” 

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, reality takes over your vision and the sight in front of you stalls your feet. Dozens of curses lay torn to pieces and scattered all over the pristine white floors. There is viscera painting the walls and cylindrical columns, and in the middle of it all, a glimpse of something strikes you with great sadness.

“Did you miss me while I was gone? I have returned to you now.”

Your chin quivers, and you suddenly wish that your talent for being able to recall seemingly useless details relating to the people you care most about didn’t work as well as it did. You hate the way you can instantly pick out a pair of perfectly polished, mahogany-colored dress shoes that still gleam under fluorescent lights, if only because they are the one thing that allows you to identify what remains of Nanami Kento. 

There’s a forest that looks so familiar in the way it offers shelter from the rain and bears fruit you like to eat. Once, long ago, someone large and powerful weaved through its trees as he stalked you in the night. In your most recent memory, it’s decorated with glowing bulbs of light and saw you wed another. 

A sob rips through your clenched teeth as memories flash before your eyes again, but this time they don’t take the form of an age long gone. Instead, you reminisce on the image of an always-weary smile and kind brown eyes. There is echoing laughter, and you remember the comforting pressure of a reassuring hand and a friend who cared for others more than he would like to let on.

If you know anything about Nanami Kento, it’s certainly that someone else is alive because of him and where he lay. And if the mounting pressure in your chest didn’t drive you to press onwards, you’d take the time to fall to your knees and mourn a man who didn’t deserve the fate that befell him. But neither did you take a pause just a few minutes earlier when you first arrived in the city and stumbled around a street corner to see familiar bodies laid out on cots. You recognized the black suit Ijichi always wore even though it was riddled and torn with puncture wounds. You couldn’t miss the way Shoko was hovering over Fushiguro as he lay unmoving. Behind them a ways, a white sheet was tucked up almost entirely over a half mangled face, and bile stung your throat at the chestnut bob that was splayed out around it. 

You couldn’t stop then and didn’t stop now. Not when Satoru isn’t answering his phone and you are manic in your desperation to find him. Not when something ancient and primal is driving you towards a being you almost have no memory of, yet the marrow of your bones and sinew threading your muscles ache to remember him. There are students, some still children and others just barely not, who will suffer from the events of today. Dear friends and peers lay broken and beaten, and there are those that will never get up. Tears blur your vision and your feet slip as you take off again. 

“Come to me, when you feel so inclined, and I will always be willing to let you find me.” 

All of this steals your breath and claims your focus, and maybe that’s why you don’t hear a once familiar voice or register Satoru’s exclamation of someone’s name. By the time you skid around a corner and the station opens up, what lies before you is unfathomable, and you stop. The dark hair of a friend you thought was gone and buried is jarring and unexpected. Across from Suguru, Satoru’s face is crumpled and broken, and he is forced to his knees and tangled up in something you don’t understand. You go to call for him, not thinking in any sensible way, and his name only halfway slips out before there is a pressure at your chest and you realize a fatal mistake has been made.

“When you are caught off guard, you freeze, even if I would always remind you that it makes for bad prey.”

It’s a horrid habit, most unbecoming of a sorcerer, and it’s unfortunate—now that memory serves you—how you never seemed to grow out of it. 

A patchwork face of pale skin and blue hair takes up most of your field of vision, and you slowly look down to see the hand resting between your breasts. The noise around you has started to fade away, and your attention is drawn to the flicker of white-hot pain somewhere beneath your ribs. Those fingers begin to curl against your sternum, the tips digging into the fabric of your blouse, and the noise that escapes your lips is strained and might just sound like someone’s name. 

Did you always know what it feels like to have steel part your flesh? 

Pain and pressure are mounting, and something is keeping you upright as your chest threatens to cave in on itself. Your eyes flicker over the shoulder of the curse that stands in front of you, but the devastated look on Satoru’s face as he screams your name has you wishing you had closed them instead. 

It’s alarming to feel how hot your blood is as it pours down your chest. 

Satoru’s voice reaches a fever pitch. The lights seem to flicker, but it’s more likely your vision is going because blood is starting to paint your front scarlett. In the distance, though it’s nearing, a thundering roar of regret and retribution shakes the ground and the very walls surrounding you all. But something inside of you is being ripped in two, and all you can think of last is how fitting it seems.

“I will always find you.” 

How terribly he has cursed you.

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

Ryomen Sukuna finds it wholly unfair and unnecessarily cruel that on two separate occasions he has felt your heart stop beating—that this is twice now he has been incapable of making it to you in time.

Itadori Yuji is slumped back against a wall and something is being forced down his throat. The boy is just barely alive, and yet Sukuna thrashes against the boundaries of his control. You are here, and he is stuck. Another finger is consumed and Sukuna thinks he can get Itadori’s head to turn. Your heartbeat is frantic. One more finger, and if he strains hard enough, pointed fingernails spring from Itadori’s fingertips. Sukuna thinks he might hear you say his name, but it’s hushed and far away, and it could be his own wishful thinking. One last finger and Sukuna bursts forth, obliterating whatever—whoever—stands in his way. 

He can sense your panic and hear the way your white-haired lover screams your name. In desperation, he crashes through metal and brick, ripping down walls and plummeting through tiled floors in an effort to reach you. He sets Gojo Satoru free from the trap designed to seal him (it’s what you would have wanted, and Sukuna is weak to your whims) and destroys the two curses who had orchestrated this whole ordeal. However, once again, he is too far and too late, and there is nothing to do when you are dead before your body hits the floor. What remains of the crumbling train station goes eerily silent, and Sukuna knows he’ll spend the next thousand years hating himself again. 

When dust and debris clear from his vision at the same time he shakes it from his clothes, Sukuna sees Gojo stumble his way to you. There is a keening, wounded sound coming from his mouth and it overlaps with the way he gasps out your name. Even Sukuna can admit it’s painful to watch as he trips over bodies and staggers on hunks of sheetrock before he can fall to his knees beside you. Gojo is sobbing by the time he is able to slip his hands under your shoulders and lift your body up enough to clutch you to his chest. He moans and laments as he rocks you in his arms and Sukuna debates if putting him out of his misery would be the kinder thing to do. 

He waits a few feet back, still in the shadows and either ignored or unnoticed. As he sniffles and pants, your husband staggers to his feet with you in his arms and turns in Sukuna’s direction. There is blood seeping through your shirt from a cavity in your chest and your head hangs loosely just over the crook of his elbow. Your eyes are shut and his fingers grip desperately into your knees from where his hand is curled under them. He begins to walk dazedly, his footsteps stilted and unbalanced, and the sorcerer stares blankly ahead. 

Your body is limp and lifeless, and the way your legs swing slightly in time with his strides bring about memories that live fresh in Sukuna’s mind even though they are centuries and centuries old.

It is your neck this time, delicately flayed with fatal precision. The white nightgown he had peeled off of you hours before is saturated in a red so deep it will never wash out. It trickles down your shoulder to seep into the bedding under where you lay, and Sukuna is uncertain if he should be grateful that your eyes had slid shut in your final moments. Seeing them empty and dull as they now are would haunt him for all the days to come. 

He could do no more for you than slide his upper arms under your knees and below your head so that you are nestled in his arms. He carries you out from the tent, and the whole of the camp goes absolutely silent. 

There is nothing left by the time Sukuna is done. Trees laid flattened for miles and there are body parts strewn in branches and thrown against rocks. Ripped sheets of fabric rustle against the ground as a stiff wind catches them, and smoke pours up towards the blue-black of the sky. 

Sukuna does not feel anything else besides mind-numbing pain and searing loss. He sees no point in honoring your last request to consider the lives of worthless mortals. He has you no longer, and there is no one to prevent the complete decimation of everything around him. 

When Sukuna returns to his estate, alone and despondent, he takes one look at the flowers blooming in the garden and sets it all ablaze. 

When Gojo is nearly past him, Sukuna jerks forward involuntarily to take you into his own arms, but the snarl of utter hatred that twists the other sorcerer’s face nearly makes him step back. It’s then he remembers that you do not belong to him in this lifetime, that you have loved and married another, and again Sukuna has lost you in more ways than one. It sends something white-hot racing through each limb, erasing the same numbness that is familiar to him, and the earlier bloodshed is not enough to satiate the rage that overtakes him. He is a couple fingers more powerful and in control again, (though not soon enough), and at current, there is no one else near—nor capable—other than your widower husband. 

Sukuna imagines that the same hatred on Gojo’s face is reflected on his own, and maybe the two strongest sorcerers are bound to have it out for more reasons than one. Gojo probably blames him for the state of everything around him and for how you lay dead and cold. Sukuna craves to put a fist into your husband’s face because he had the opportunity to have you when he didn’t, and for failing to do what Sukuna also couldn’t.​​ There’s a mutual understanding between the two, and he lets Gojo pass behind him. 

Sukuna watches as he finds an alcove of fallen stone and places you gently under it. His fingers smooth down over your hair and his lips whisper declarations of love against your forehead when he leans down over you. It’s sickening and gut wrenching, not unlike what Sukuna did when he finally laid you to rest when it was his turn. It pains him greatly. You pain him greatly, and by the time Gojo whirls around, Sukuna is ready. 

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

The Honored One is still braced in a fighting stance though blood drips from his nose and parts of his clothing hang in tatters. The King of Curses has gashes that mar his arms and one that slices down over his right eye. Both of their chests expand with more effort than usual. Satoru has two fingers ready to twine with another, and Sukuna’s hands hover next to each other in front of his chest. They are surrounded by open night, having leveled the rest of the station in their fighting, and somewhere far off sirens blare and lights flicker. 

Gojo’s face is pale and wild, his eyes empty and devoid of everything, and for a split second Sukuna empathizes with him. He had felt the same lack of emotion a thousand years ago, experienced immense loss and knew nothing else but the pain of it. 

“You wish to close your eyes in the hopes that she is alive and waiting for you when you open them again,” Sukuna tells him, and his words are not gentle, but maybe understanding. 

Gojo offers no retort and barely moves, though his eyes do flicker once to where your body is lying a distance away, sheltered by the stone you lay under and the careful way they fought to avoid bringing about any more damage to you. 

“You wish to find her in death,” Sukuna continues. His voice is all knowing and authoritative, and his sympathies for his rival end here. “Yet, I am the one who finds her in life.” 

An elegant white brow springs upward. “You’ve lost her twice now. Do you think you’ll live long enough to see her a third time?”

Black tattoos twitch erratically as the some of the composure on Sukuna’s face slips, and he bares his teeth at the other sorcerer. “When I find her a third time, if you happen to be around, I suggest not getting in my way.” 

The laughter that pours out of Gojo again is hollow and maniacal and carries through the night until it trails off into emptiness. The two stare at each other, each with their own silent promises and resolute in their determination to see them finished. Immense power flickers over them both, but only one of them would walk away alive.

Gojo Satoru hopes to be victorious and spare you from death should what Ryomen Sukuna say is true and he lives long enough again to doom you a third time. 

Gojo Satoru cannot deny that he desperately wishes for what the King of Curses has just described. If only things were so simple, so that he could close his eyes and open them to see you next to him. Maybe this time, fate would be kinder to you both. 

Gojo Satoru isn’t sure if he wants to win this fight, yet duty burdens him. 

Ryomen Sukuna despairs at the thought of prowling the earth for another unknown amount of time while waiting to be reunited with you. He thinks of what could have happened if he had been whole, if there weren’t still pieces of him missing. Would you have given in to the lure of him and remembered what once was? Maybe then he could have saved you.

Ryomen Sukuna fears one possibility, and will forever ponder if his curse in life is to always lose you just after he’s found you. Would a brutal and sanguineous history always repeat itself? Until he can find out, there are countless cities to lay waste to and souls to torture, but years still pass rather slowly when one is deprived of the thing they want most. 

Ryomen Sukuna wonders which of the two of them would find you first, should he and the white-haired sorcerer both perish. Perhaps they’re destined to battle for you then, too.

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

Many, Many Years Ago

Hidden away in the desolate countryside, a being sits by candlelight to chronicle the life of their master. They escaped the chaos of his demise, wrought by his own doing and the cowardice of pathetic mortals, and are now waiting for the day of his return. In the meantime, they take it upon themselves to ensure that history is recorded with pinpoint accuracy. 

There are minor adjustments to be made however, if for nothing more than to maintain their master’s legacy as something well respected. There is no need for the dalliances of a woman to mar the pages of an otherwise heroic tale, and leaving evidence of such weakness would be a disservice on their part.

Uraume has already deigned themselves once with the responsibility of removing such hindrances from their master’s focus. It would be of no trouble for them to serve Sukuna-sama in such a way again.

An unfortunate and momentary affliction, Uraume thinks, and then they swirl their brush into black ink and begin to write.

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

Epilogue

Consciousness comes to you on the tail of a wayward breeze. It is cool against your skin and flows from behind where dusky night has settled into the sky. In front of you, the last remnants of a blushed orange sunset begin to dip below the trees and blacken their silhouettes. With it, warmth bleeds away. 

You blink at the sight of it, and even that feels slow and languid. You step forward and the grass that hovers above your ankles rustles and cracks beneath your feet. Awareness is not sudden but trickles in with every point of connection between the sole of your foot and the ground. 

Pink and white, faceless bodies, and odd echoing voices.

You walk further and let your fingertips tap and twitch in the empty air by your sides until your nail digs into your skin.

Old and new, landscapes that vary so differently in what views they offer, and they feel so very far from one another.

You stop without realizing it, and a man calls out your name. You perceive it as your own right then, but every detail that would fill in a composite picture for what it means still slips in gradually. You first turn your head enough to focus on the outline of a horizon just to your right, then again to glance over your shoulder and allow the first glimpse of your profile to whoever stands behind you. 

The pitter patter of rain and the warmth of someone’s arms. 

Consciousness and awareness do not heed the passing seconds as something to be considered significant. Perhaps, by the time you shift your weight into your heels and allow the beckoning of the presence behind you to steal your attention, recognition will have returned to you. Maybe then, the face that awaits you won’t seem so unfamiliar. 

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

A big thank you to everyone who read and left comments for this story! I had such fun writing it, and I hope you all enjoyed it.

Now, I'm off to find something soft and fluffy because I have thoroughly hurt my own feelings <3

Taglist: @kalopsia-flaneur ; @kafanizdakicokiyi ; @rosso-seta ; @lululala06

[hell-drabbles]

I've been binging your Embittered Companion AU and with the new story event I've been having brainrot so fucking bad. This might be a bit inaccurate to the lore since I'm only towards the end of Chapter two. (The game is fun, but it also really fucking drags.)

I also took some liberties with the angelification of the reader.

I'm apologizing in advance for my rambling.

Hurt with no comfort and gore coming right up, be warned!

Spoiler warning for the current Story Event!

You know how Lucifer made himself fall because he ripped out his wings? Make that the reader/companion when they are aware/lucid after they were turned into an angel.

The charm the angels used to turn them into an angel had been flawed. Their angelification could never be truly be completed from the very beginning. It was meant for devils after all, and they were never a devil to begin with, being human through and through. It had left them inbetween, stuck being angel and human, both at the same but neither in a single breath. It left them torn between their humanity and the Angelic Grace forced on them. It left their mind broken, the few moments where their mind resembled being whole enough to remember who they were so very rare and so very short. But that was enough. Because in those moments were long enough for them to remember their friends left behind. They would not let themselves be used to hurt those they cared for. No more will they let themselves be treated like a puppet and thosr angels their puppeteer.

That moment of lucidity was just long enough to rip out those wretched feathered wings. They dig their nails into their fragile skin, their own blood painting their hands and body as it splits apart underneath their own hands. It hurts, the feelings of the muscles ripping and the tendons snapping. But the pain is nothing to the agony of the holy light always burning behind their eyelids and the loud choir of angels they were never supposed to hear beckoning them to join the masses always ringing in their ears. So they claw at the bones that were never supposed to sprout from their body, the wings that were never supposed to be attached to their back.

They fall from the Heavens, leaving the wretched beings that think only themselves deserving of God.

They fall. Finally silence, finally there is darkness where previously those grating screams were heard and the painful holy light glowed without mercy.

So they fall from the Heavens, past the Earth were they were born and lived and to Hell.

They are a bright streak across the red sky. They burn like a star falling, their body breaking apart.

Their scattered memories flash across their mind as they fall.

It's been months since they were turned. They remember seeing Ra-On and those devils that always sticked to him like glue. They remember hurting the devils and being used for Ra-On's torment by those damned angels that kept them on a leash for so long.

What would Ra-On think, seeing them now? What would poor Mhinyeok think, left behind on Earth like he was?

Maybe they would think them dead. It feels very much like they are dying, they think with some dark humour for their current situation as their consciousness fades to black as they slam into the ground with the force of a thousand suns, burning alive and spilling rivulets of red and glowing white-gold on the grass beneath them.

Awaken ye, you who has been reborn twice.

The You who is not Human, neither Angel, nor Devil now and yet all three the very same, You who no longer belongs to any place.

For You have been made anew, this Your third Dawning after Your Life ended twice.

Come forth, return to those You wished to protect.

I hoped you liked this and let me know what you thought of this! It was a fun writing practice and great way to get those thoughts rattling in my brain out.

Heheheh oh I love the good ol hurt with no comfort. Just, blast me with that angst. I'm glad to see that people love the Embittered Companion AU as much as they do. I was a little worried initially that it would set people off, since I'm aware of how protective people are of self-insert MC's but I'm glad there are people that have the same reservations as me.

Anyways, hohoho, here's a drabble that popped in my head. Warning: we be exploring the body of the Companion after they made impact on the ground.

Nothing and no one came to gather what lay in the center of that great crater. The only visitors were rain, snow and hail. Isn't it strange, though, to see that no matter how much times passes, the body within continues to bleed? You were in pieces, consciousness no longer a part of the waking world, and yet you continue to bleed.

Perhaps you would think it strange, if you were awake at all. But you weren't. You were simply there, still, as time moves ever forward. As grass, once singed, regrew back. As birds flew over and picked at what pieces were left of your clothing to make for their nests. As bugs began to make new homes near and around your body.

Nature, no matter what you may be, will never treat you any differently. Be you a devil, an angel, or a human, the earth will seek to swallow all the same. The flora and fauna would treat you as another thing of everyday life.

Perhaps, such treatment would've made you happy, at least for a time.

Nothing, in all your barely hanging on pieces, grew back. But nothing rotted further either.

Instead, your blood continues to flow, red sinking to the bottom, white slithering to the top. All the same to the plants growing around you, for they care for nothing but more nutrients.

The sun rose high in the sky, blind to way it highlights all of your broken limbs. The moon loomed over, oblivious to the pulsing, painful pieces of your wings. Celestial bodies, useless to you, but they continue to exist nonetheless.

Time passes and you continue to lay, not found or touched by anyone.

But then, there was a voice.

Your blood lost all its white shine, lost all its red luster.

Then you opened your eyes.

[donationwayne]

here's my confession (I'm kind of hooked on you) CHAPTER THREE

Pairing: Buddie || 20.4k/109k || Chapter 3/19 ||

My fic for the @118bigbang ! CHAPTER THREE BABYEEE!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME

DILF EDDIE strikes again.

This week: Buck has bisexual thoughts, has dinner with bathena, gets wine drunk with karen and hen, and eddie crashes a date!

________

SNIP

Buck spends the morning pacing back and forth. He’s anxious and jittery all afternoon, and by the time evening comes around, his body is tremoring like a Chihuahua that's gotten into a copious amount of caffeine. He stops by the liquor store and loads his basket with about 6 bottles of wine. Two for Karen, two for Hen, and two for him. He’s packed his pajamas just in case because he’s pretty sure he’s going to need plenty of liquid courage this evening, which meant he would be sleeping on the couch for sure.

It was one thing to tell Hen and Karen he’d discovered he was bisexual—it was another to admit he'd had the realization then slept with the man within two hours of meeting them. He isn't planning on disclosing Eddie’s identity just in case. Plus, Buck wasn’t even sure if Eddie was actively out, and Buck didn't want to be the guy who outed him. They never discussed it at work, especially since it wasn’t something that came up in normal conversation.

He’s also not quite ready to confess to Hen and Karen that he’s been keeping his whole thing under wraps for two fucking months. Hen’s eyebrows go up when she sees the armfuls of wine that he arrives with. He gives his best charming, boyish smile that is definitely not laced with anxiety. Everything was going to be perfectly fine. Buck knows he has nothing to worry about, and yet his stomach is still in knots.

“Wow,” Hens exclaims, letting him into the house. “That is certainly a lot of wine.”

Coming out to Josh hadn’t felt huge because he’d basically just blurted the entire thing out to him a handful hours after it happened. This was another thing entirely—Buck has had plenty of time to really consider what he was feeling in the moment. Bisexual. He half expected to feel differently after labeling the new facet of his identity. Through the years, he's slept with plenty of women, not to mention been incredibly attracted to them. He's still attracted to women; only he's also learned that he's equally as attracted to men; he just never realized that unknown feeling had been attraction. It feels like it should be a more physical change since mentally his entire world had shifted on its axis.

Of course, there was always this blurry line of appreciation for other men—he’d never been entirely sure if he’d simply been attracted to their body type—the muscles and personality or if he’d wanted that for himself. He’d always thought it was the latter until, well, Eddie. The man had single handedly reshaped the entire way Buck viewed the world.

“Nice to see you too, Hen,” Buck calls over his shoulder as he heads for the dining room.

“Should we call Bobby?” Karen asks Hen, also very openly judging the amount of wine he’d brought with him. She was torn between amusement and concern.

“Hello to you as well, Karen.” Buck grumbled. “These aren’t all for me, obviously. I told you I’d be supplying booze. Also, dinner smells delicious.”

“I see you’ve lost the boot. Are you coming back to us soon?”

“Not as soon as I’d like,” Buck confesses. "I’ve still got a few months of PT, but I’ll be back before you know it.”

“So you’re not jumping ship then?” Hen confirms.

“No, you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not,” Buck threatens.

__________________

[wajjs]

Hey, can we talk about the underrated (correct me if im wrong) friendship between Hal and Clark. Like people rarely talk about that, or I've been living under a rock.

I mean, I guess it depends on the versions of the characters you stick to, because them being actually friends (instead of just “coworkers”) isn't something that's consistent in the ever changing canon.

The most clear example I can think of right now is the tone differences between The List (Action Comics #606) and how their relationship is later shown in Legend of The Green Flame.

(Action Comics #606)

“I don’t mean to presume to tell you how to run your shop, Hal, but it looks pretty bad. Do you need a hand with something? −Okay, Hal. As long as you’re sure.”

“He’s sooo polite. I feel like my dad just chewed me out.”

It’s kind of an ongoing theme during this time in comics to have them shown as Clark being better than / above Hal, and Hal being an idiot that fumbles through being a hero. So of course Clark is patronizing! He doesn’t really treat Hal as an equal here, rather he approaches the conversation as if he’s talking to a rookie that’s yet to get their shit together.

The point behind The List is that Hal slowly discovers he truly does not have friends left. He doesn’t have anyone he can go to when shit hits the fan. This issue always makes me think of the song “Nobody knows you when you’re down and out” (my favorite version is by Eric Clapton)

Then I began to fall so low Lost all my good friends, and nowhere to go I get my hands on a dollar again I'm gonna hang on to it 'til that old eagle grins Because nobody knows you When you're down and out In your pocket, not one penny And as for friends, you don't have many

I say that’s the main meaning of this issue because it becomes pretty clear through Hal’s internal dialogue:

“And I’m running out of friends. Carter, John and Arthur were never my friends... Barry’s dead... Bruce pretends to be...”

In contrast waltzes in Legend of The Green Flame, that directly refers to this and shows Hal and Clark’s relationship in a different light.

“Hal... The last time you called... I’m sorry I couldn’t see you. I had a lot on my mind.”

“Hal, is something wrong?”

“Yeah. Yeah, something’s wrong. I need advice.”

“What are friends for? Spill it.”

Here they are portrayed in a way to show that they’re on equal terms, one isn’t inherently better than the other. The patronizing tone, the “I’m disappointed in you” kind of fatherly dialogue, they’re all swapped for an interaction in which Clark is shown to care for Hal’s general wellbeing—without any judgement getting in the way.

Hal is still struggling with the reality that some people just don’t care, can’t care, about being a helping hand when one’s in deep shit and struggling to see it through. Which is why you can take this as a “fix it” of sorts if you want, while also taking it as all heroes being infallibly human, which means that at times they will have shitty reactions and do and say things that aren’t nice.

At the same time, I feel like it’s fair to point out that Clark’s interest in helping out Hal is purely cordial. It’s the right thing to do, the good thing to do, and Clark is all about doing the good right thing.

[stardustbee]

hey bee 🐝 for the drabble challenge, for maul or savage pls!!!! 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 two options:

18. "some people are just worth it to suffer for."

or

30. "let's keep it a secret."

((angst mode has been activated))

Oh darling Honeymoon… first of all thanks for sending these! It was really fun writing!

My vocabulary does not know the word "or"...Specially not if you send in a request! So here have them both my Honey ♡♡

I hope you like this little drapple I have done 😳🤗 (with some things that I was to shy to post yet 🙊)

Warnings: Minors DNI! mention of blood, injuries, mention of violence, biting, choking, vaginal fingering, pet name and what ever I forgot please tell me!

Note: As always I apologise for every typing mistake done here! As usual I translate it from my native language to English 😊😊

Ship challenge promt list

18. "some people are just worth it to suffer for." - Savage x fem!reader

It was clear that something like this would happen. Something had to happen one day. You knew what you were getting into, so why are you crying? Your hand swam in his and you tried everything you could to help him. Blood ran down the piece of cloth you were holding against his stomach. "It's okay..." gasped the big, yellow Zabrak. Savage Opress, hurt by gutter scum for wanting to protect you, his precious little flower. He had managed that though, but in the rush he didn't notice the second attacker with the blade. And so it has to come as it is now. A blade stuck into the stomach of the mighty Zabrak. Still, the attackers lied dead and beheaded somewhere in the underground of the city. 

"I'm so sorry..." you whimper and sob. You had torn a piece of fabric from your top and were trying to somehow make a makeshift bandage. Savage stroked your head and looked at you. Then he put your hand under your chin and kissed you. "Some people are just worth it to suffer for." Your sobs diminished somewhat, but your worried face was still there. He wiped the tears from your cheeks and kissed you again, this time on the forehead. "You don't think that little bit will kill me, do you, little flower?" he brought out spitefully. Crying again, you wrinkle your nose and wrap your arms around the Zabrak's massive body a little brutally. A loud, pained growl escaped his mouth as a sharp, hot pain shot through him from throwing your full weight against him and the wound. You cried into his chest for a long time and Savage couldn't keep the smile from his lips despite the pain and your obvious concern.

30. "let's keep it a secret." Crime Lord!Maul x fem!reader

You were just done. Your first time in a long time and then with a Zabrak. And not just anyone, no, you had to meet the leader of "Crimson Dawn", by accident. When you ended up in the bedroom of the galaxy's greatest crime lord, Maul, you didn't want to think about it. 

You were still surprised, happily surprised, at what a man with a cybernetic crotch can do. So wild, so much to offer. He fucked you like and wild animal and his stamina didn't seem to have an end.

You naively thought, that you could sneak out and let this behind you. Getting involved with men like that is just not a good idea. Sneaking away an even worse one. You were collecting your clothes. Every inch of your body hurts. Bites, bruises and endless hours of both of you giving the other the highest peak of pleasure someone can imagine. A hand wrapped around your neck and you were pulled back onto the bed with pressure. "Where are you going?" His voice was cold and dark and he pulled the words out of his mouth uncomfortably. Sweat pooled on your forehead and your mouth was dry. 

"Lord Maul..." you just managed to get out. The pressure grew. "That wasn't the answer to my question." Your eyes twitched back and forth nervously. There has to be some way out...you have to say something. 

"Say what you want to say, pet." He released his grip so you could speak. You had started stammering something and explained that since you were both respected by people it wouldn't be good to see the two of you. Questions would be asked and rumors would be spread. So you said, "Let's keep it a secret." 

Clever, you thought, but once again you didn't think about who you were dealing with. Another squeeze around your neck, this time it was like a ghost hand reaching for you. "Me? A secret?" Maul pulled you closer to him with a mere wave of his hand. His face was very close to yours now and you could feel his breath. "Look at me. Look at you. I'm far from done with you." He gently stroked your cheek, your neck, then your breasts to your clit, that was still so sensitive and neatly reacted to the touch. Forcefully he put two of his fingers inside without giving you any mercy. "That's not our little secret. Everyone should see who you belong to. You belong to me." He pushed you back onto the bed and placed himself between your spread legs. You could feel the cold of his cybernetic legs. He bites your neck and you feel yourself dying for him again, again and after some really long hour's, again. 

Everyone in the building could hear what he did to you that night and nobody even tried or thought of interrupting you two.

This sure would not be a secret to the underworld of "Crimson Dawn".

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

Tagging some people how might be interested ♡

@justalittletomato @eyecandyeoz @by-the-primes @moonstrider9904 @kimageddon @oh-three @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @nxctuaryninetythree @dinsverdika @hellseggcarton @darthmaussy

[missamyrisa2]

do you have any tickles for a naughty girl who's ticklish all over, but specifically on her butt, breasts, and private area, and is very ticklish with feathers? she gets particularly flustered and embarrassed when she's restrained naked with her arms up and her legs spread and pulled up to expose all her most ticklish spots, and she blushes a lot when she's verbally teased while she's being tickled. thank you!

(another old old ask and I don't know, I was looking out the window thinking of meadows and somehow ended up with the madness you find here~<3)

I always have endless tickles for such delightfully sensitive and adorable giggly girls. Particularly one who has stumbled into my giggly web~ and that's no metaphor, you find yourself drawn to these shiny threads hanging over a dip in the meadow. They're so inviting and glistening in the gentle sunbeams peering through the canopy above. You could swear you heard a snicker, but it matters not. There's shinies to explore ahead of you. Quickly you find as you teeter down the rope-like structure that something is amiss. The threads become stickier as you move towards the center, and before the dots connect in your mind, your shoes have been stuck so thoroughly that your feet lift clean out. In the next two panicked steps, your socks are stripped, the sensation of them being taken inspires a nervous giggle. The glittering prizes in the center are so close now, and the threads are converging to make progressing easier. And yet, with another step, your foot is ensnared and you're down on a knee. You thrash and struggle. The sound of fabric being torn is heard. Whatever magic coats this web allows it to easily snag your top and bottom, and in a final desperation, you lunge forward to find both are left behind and you're clad only in your undergarments. Sadly, they too will join your discarded cottony heap, as a sudden tremble in the web causes you to fall flat forward, followed by an unceremonious bounce to sail your helpless now-naked body into a spot just out of reach from the center.

An eternity passes, only the soft sound of the wilds can be heard. That is, until a shuffling sensation rings in your ears. A pile of fluff and pink descends from above. I'm hanging from a thread, giggling down at you. "Why, lookie what we have here. Another fair maiden has stumbled into my lovely web. Ooh, and look, you've lost your clothes haven't you?" I glide down and step cleanly around your stuck form, striking a victorious pose in my long fluffy elegant pink gown, covered in a glittering pattern starting at my belly and extending outward like eight shiny legs. "You look so cute and yummy like this my sweetheart. What's your name?" I nod and coo, pacing around, studying your reactions. "Mmhmm. Adorable. No, I can't let you go just yet. I simply can't. Miss Amy is gonna eat you up, oh my yes." With a smirk, I trace my nails up my bodice and my outfit gently quakes. Four appendages spring forth from my backside, long feathery tendrils each ending in an impossibly soft and currently trembling tip, waving back and forth tauntingly. "Tell me little bug, are you ticklish?"

I lean in, beaming down over you. My extra feathered friends begin tracing your sides - two starting at your underarms, the bottom two at your hips. They work up and down, flittering and testing and probing. When they meet at your ribs they begin fluttering madly. "What an exquisite body. So ticklish too." I let the top pair drift up and start swirling over your nipples in fluffy teasing circles. The bottom pair split to dip alternately into your navel. I reach down with my nails and caress your cheek, trace your neck, and start stroking towards your giggle buttons. "Coochie coo. Let it all out. I'm gonna take all your giggles tonight. You can laugh, you can cry. I'll take all your emotions~" I speak assuredly, sweetly, and just a bit deviously as I wrest all those sensations from your body. My lower feather tools dart down to begin merrily stroking your thighs, caressing in long strides from above the knees to your inner crevice. While I thoroughly tickle your underboobs with the feathers, my nails begin stroking each nipple, playfully working and rubbing them to a stiff satisfaction. "And you love your tickles, I can tell. Aww, poor thing, you love the tickles so much and yet they make you so crazy huh?"

With your body warmed up, I tug thoughtfully on the webbing around you. At once the section holding your body shifts, disconnecting from the larger web as I separate particular threads and attach them above. My feathers continue to tease at your breasts and trace your abdomen and occasionally stroke your outer girlihood as your body is moved and positioned. When all is said and done, you find yourself suspended before me, your feet poking through the hanging web, arms pinned above, and legs spread. I circle around you from below, your body floating at my chest level. "Ahh, perfect." I lean in to capture your ear, my cool breath teasing as all four feathers dance on your breasts, stroking your aroused nipples and fluffing all over the sideboob and underboob. "There's no escape for you now." I flick my tongue at your earlobe and start planting teasing kisses there while my feathers torment your boobs and nipples, encircling them and coating them with teasing fluff. I reach into the pink tickly piles to firmly grasp each mound, lovingly gently squeezing to work you up, and then snicker as the feathers come down to tickle your buttons mercilessly. "Tickle tickle on your buttons~ give me all your giggles now, all of them. You will surrender yourself to me, and laugh to my pleasure. I will make you feel so good and you'll want every tickle I give~"

I flutter my nails down your sides, and work past your hips, reaching beneath the web to begin tracing the curve of your butt. "I know a ticklish rump when I see one~ aren't you soo glad you stopped by my web today little gigglebug?" I playfully pinch and stroke and spread my graspy nails on your cheeks down there, cackling at your helpless struggles and ticklish laughs. "What's wrong? Can't get out? A big bad pink spider is, is tickling you? Poor baby." I taunt, sending a feather to start gliding up and down the crack between your cheeks. I chuckle darkly and grasp your butt, holding you gently open so more feathers can join, swishing in a long train to play on that most sensitive region. But even those desperate silly giggles cannot satiate my appetite long, for next I pop up in a convenient gap in the web, right before your girly parts between your spread and lifted legs. "My goodness. You could heat an entire village with that oven!" I giggle at your blushing reaction and start humming happily as my feathers trace down your thighs and begin earnestly exploring your royal lips, up and down the exquisite landscape, the soft supple tips creeping closer and closer to the entrance. "Hmm. How do we open this magical chamber I wonder. Ahh, yes." I wiggle a single finger at you menacingly, holding it up and descending slowly between your legs.

"The magical doorbell of course." I glide my finger tip to your clitty and hold it for a moment, letting your body stiffen and writhe before slowly beginning to rub in tight circles. "Ding~dong" I giggle. The feathers are dancing wildly at your inner thighs and your lips. "Diiiing~donggg" I laugh and sing, rubbing faster with my light touches. The feathers torment your girly parts, shivering with tickly intent, their fibers turning your entire royal area to a fluffy pile. But my finger never stops. "I promise it's not a ding dong ditch!" I cackle, following your every buck and thrust until I have you melted in my grasp. And then my other hand finally arrives, and ever so daintily opens your lips. "Hm. Seems the royal chamber is open." I muse, clicking my tongue as the feathers make their way to tickle your inner lips and start playing in the entrance, dancing with impunity on these most private grounds. "And alas, I cannot stop ringing the royal doorbell!" I hold your lips and let a feather begin tickling your clit, darting in from the side, tracing carefully on its tiny surface. My hands are only there now to hold you, all the touches are impossibly light, the most fleeting yet heavy of tickles at your royal button and inside, creeping further and further. One of the feathers is twisting itself up, turning into a soft frilly tendril~ you know where it's going. The ridiculously soft sensation glides inside, parting your wetness and hugging intentionally to every part of your inner walls. I nod knowingly and coo, mostly all business now for your most desperate moaning laughs. I'm soaking up every reaction, exerting so much concentration to keep your tickles so divine.

The feather inside arrives at its destination. The most royal of tickle buttons, the treasure you were lured into this web for. But the outer tickles do not cease. Your clit is treated to two dancing feathers on its outer edges, taking turns to kiss the sides as a third darts in from above. The work in a changing pattern to land little edging tickles on your throbbing button, and sometimes they simply float nearby for a moment. I hold your girly parts firmly. "Stay~" I instruct sternly when you begin bucking too wildly. The feather inside begins stroking your g spot, the tip like an elegant soft girly finger tapping so curiously. It taps with a steady teasing pulse, occasionally giving such a tickly shock with a long wild stroke, and then goes back to the calmed touch. I'm not letting you rush into these sensations. I drip these royal tickles to your body as slowly as I possibly can muster. I move one hand to tease your nipples, nails stroking and tweaking them, occasionally fluttering at the sides to make your buttons dance. I draw out your moans and devour every reaction with that beaming smile, knowing grins, and unrelenting smirks. "Mmmhm. Go ahead. Tell me all about it. How does it feel? I know, gigglebug, I know. You're gonna cum for me and there's nothing you can do about it. You're my little plaything and I'm gonna play with you forever and ever. And you're just gonna love my sisters, oh yes you are." I giggle, my feathers picking up speed. I would keep you in suspense forever, but I also long to feel and see your body overtaken. "Don't fight it~ the ticklegasm is coming. And I'm gonna tickle you all the way through."

When you finally release, my feathers naturally do not stop. One remains to tease your clit as I hold it lovingly, rubbing softly. The tendril inside begins gliding in and out, reaching in to tease your button for a moment before sliding out, pausing and going right back in to commit the same deed. My fingers dance madly at your belly, pinching and grasping, darting into your navel. I work your ticklegasm right into the post-orgasm tickles and refuse to relent. I bounce up onto the web next to you, and resume my torment, eyes glowing. "Yeah, you want that feather fucking don't ya? My sweet gigglebug." My feathered appendages are a blur, or maybe it's just the post ticklegasm fuzzies. They're playing at your royal area, shuffling duties, sliding in to test your button again, dancing over your clitty, twisting around each nipple to playfully massage. My nails skip about with jumpy tickles, catching your motions with tickles at your hips and sides, under your arms and along your neck. "Can't get away~ you can't get away~ it's just tickles all the way down. And at the bottom, more tickles~" I can't help but snicker when we rush right into another ticklegasm, and yet the tickles still don't stop. I ring your royal doorbell all over again when you start to fade. I bring you back from the brink with tickles upon tickles, and we make the journey together once more. I hold your hands for support at times. The sun is long gone and the moon smiles from above. It's nothing but the best tickles for my special gigglebug.

The new day dawns, and you slumber comfortably on a pile of your clothes in the meadow, freshly mended beneath your naked twitching body. The web is gone, you rest in the divot where it once sat. Perhaps a dream, but there is no denying the absolutely divine residual tremble you feel on your royal parts~

[timbertumbr]

Perspective (Ninjago Kai X Reader) Requested

Here you are anon! Sorry if it isn't a Ninja you prefer-

Might have some spoilers if you don't know who Misako is. 

DEFINITE spoilers to the end of season 2.

"Your ability is powerful. But to gain people's trust you need to break their perspective about you. Some may see your gift as an ability capable of destruction and chaos which makes them fear you. Others, myself included, may see your gift as a way to help make the world a better place. So, sugar or cream?" This. The very words that convinced you to join the Ninjas side and the very words you desperately hold onto during your lowest moments. 

It's all about perspective. No matter how many times you've helped the Ninja save the city, some people still don't trust you. Kai especially. The hot head and the "looks" of the team according to him. 

He's always been one to jump into action and ask questions later. Always been the type of person to jump to conclusions and hold onto them for dear life. 

While he may be the most skeptical of the group, doesn't mean most of the ninja didn't treat you with the same skepticism as Kai.

The only people that seem to trust you these days are Sensei Wu, Misako, Zane, and Lloyd. 

Speaking of Misako, you were currently helping her with her latest archeological find while the Ninja were on a mission per her instruction.

"Tiny pickaxe," 

"Got it," 

"Fossil brush," 

"Here ya go," 

"Trowel," 

"Ace of spades, you win," Misako chuckled at the lame joke. You peer over her shoulder while she works.

"What do you think it is?" 

"Well, if it's been stuck in the walls of a heavily guarded chamber for thousands of years, it has to either be something valuable, powerful, or both," You hum in acknowledgment before a loud thud echoed the room, making Misako jump and drop the tiny pickaxe. It fell to the floor as the two of you turned to the door to see the Ninja covered in soot and torn clothes.

"YOU! YOU TRICKED US!" Kai yells, storming into the room and pointing an accusing finger towards you.

"Huh?" 

"Don't 'huh' us! You know exactly what you did!" Jay chipped in. Zane looked back and forth at his teammates.

"Perhaps it would be wise to freshen up and rest. A near-death experience can-" 

"NOT NOW ZANE!" Kai yells. Cole grimaces, inhaling sharply through his teeth before backing out of the room. 

"Kai please-" 

"HOW CAN YOU ALL BE SO BLIND?! THEY TRICKED US INTO GOING INTO THAT DEATH TRAP AND YOU'RE TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN?!" Kai cuts Lloyd off, absolutely furious.

"Kai-" 

"No! They PLANNED this! They wanted us to go in blind to get rid of us! They should've never been invited to the team in the first place and stay in their little evil lair! Once a demon, always a demon," The room went completely silent as Lloyd looked at Kai like he was the dumbest person alive.

"I… I'm… going to get some air," You mumbled before swiftly walking past them and onto the deck of the bounty.

"Kai. I get it, you're angry. But that was literally the DUMBEST thing that ever came out of your mouth," Lloyd grumbles.

"Wha-"

"Lloyd is right. Saying someone never changes is inaccurate. Lloyd is a perfect example of this," Zane chips in.

"And Garmadon. Well, he was originally good, then bad, then good again, but the point is he did change. Multiple times!" Jay points out, feeling a tad guilty for snapping at you.

"And Y/N wasn't the one who told us to go there, my mother did," Misako nods.

"He's right. And if I had known how dangerous it was, I wouldn't have sent you. Y/N as well, no matter how much you perceive them as the villain," Kai looked around and realized he was in the wrong and knew what he had to do.

"Fine, I messed up. I'll apologize," Kai grumbles, leaving the room. They then turned their attention to Jay who looked nervous.

"Okay! Fine! I messed up too! I'll go make an apology gift!" He scrambles out of the room while the trio looked at each other proudly.

____________

You leaned on the bounty looking down at Ninjago city. You were contemplating if you should just pack your bags and leave if that's what they want. You didn't even consider joining till Sensei Wu said his piece.

Kai's words were the straw that broke the camel's back. While contemplating, you realized you did very little to help the team. Why did Wu want you again? For your potential?

Nodding to yourself, you turn around to start packing when you see Kai approaching you. You frown upon seeing his conflicted expression.

"Uh… hey?" -_- Really Kai? That's what made you so conflicted. Shaking your head, you begin walking.

"Hey, where are you going?" Kai asks, confused.

"Leaving," You respond curtly, Kai follows you with a raised brow.

"Well, can you at least hear me out?" 

"I don't want to hear it," Kai was taken aback by how cold you were being. You're usually friendly and patient with everyone, even if they are skeptical. Kai's guilt started to swallow him whole, he caused this.

"Please?" It was a feeble attempt, one that was said just above a whisper and so upset that you'd think a child said it. You pause and sigh, turning around to face the hothead, a sign for him to get on with it.

"Look, I'm sorry for what I said and I have no excuse for it. It was… out of line..." Kai muttered, looking at his feet.

"Okay," You turn on your heel and continue walking while Kai stares at you in shock. 

"Wait, where are you going?!" Kai asks, confused and a little scared.

"I already told you that I'm leaving, for good," Kai's eyes widened in realization, you were leaving the team.

"WHAT?! No, you can't!" 

"First you want me to leave then you want me to stay, can't you make up your mind FOR ONCE?!" You snapped, turning to face him with tears brimming around your eyes.

"Hey, I said I was sorry, didn't I?!" Kai snaps back.

"An apology doesn't just fix everything! I'm done! I'm done being treated like I just murdered someone every day, no matter what I do to show that I'm not what people think I am! I'm done being defined by my abilities that I didn't even ask for! I'm done…" You couldn't stop the emotions and the tears from flooding, once you started you couldn't stop. You wipe at your eyes in a feeble attempt to stop the tears while Kai stared, his guilt consumed him and then some.

"Y/N," He called out, gaining your attention. He extended a hand, a small flame erupting from his palm and waving wildly, a symbol of both their current emotions.

"'Perspective is everything.' That's what Wu said. Some may see this fire as a cause for pain, destruction, and chaos. But to others it warms a house on a winter's night, it's a signal to let those know you need help. 

It's more than just a little flame. And I should've been seeing you the same way. There are good and bad qualities in every person. I've been obsessing over the bad because of my perspective on you. When I should've been looking at both your good traits and flaws equally. 

You said ‘an apology doesn't fix everything,’ right. Well, then what about a thank you? Thank you for being so patient. Thank you for putting up with this for so long even though you didn't deserve it. Thank you for being strong, brave, and kind. Thank you…" Kai trailed off, looking down at the ground in embarrassment while putting out the fire. You stared at him in amazement.

"Ah, that got… long," He muttered. You snicker and then start laughing.

"Th-That's the most thoughtful thing since I got here… and the smartest," You half-joked, earning a playful glare while he smirked.

"Thank you, Kai," He merely shrugged.

"Yeah, yeah. What are friends for?" You perked up at his words.

"I'm your friend?" 

"Well, now you are. Only if you want to though," You smiled.

"I'd love to be your friend Kai," 

"Aww, maaaaan! How am I gonna top that?!" You and Kai turn to see Jay holding a box while muttering to himself. The two of you burst out laughing. It'll take time to repair/make the bonds of friendship, but with a new friend by your side, you're sure to gain the rest of the team's trust.

[fangirlandiknowit101]

Looking through old notebooks i used for writing and found this summary:

"You've got two choices, Sasuke. Fight, and risk losing everyone and everything you've ever cared about, or trust me and only lose half."

When living in a lie might be the only way to protect the truth, and one mistake could bring a fate worse than death, Sasuke begins to wish he'd never encountered love...

SasuNaru, alternate canonverse

And i'm like... damn. And there's a 1k first chapter intro written, I put it under the cut. All of this to sulk over the fact that i never wrote it all out lol. Once again i wish stories could write themselves😔

~~~

When heavy rain turned into a steady drizzle Sasuke sighed, chin resting on his bent-up knee and eyes scanning the foggy mountain slope below. They’d found shelter underneath a protruding rock, agreeing to wait since they weren’t in a particular hurry. Already the chill was beginning to invade his body, something he noticed only because he’d spent the past few days of their trip over in the hot and pleasantly dry Land of Wind.

They’d only been running a few hours since they crossed the border, but they might as well have been on the other side of the world considering the drastic change in climate.

“I still don’t like those guards,” he muttered, thinking back to the procedure at the border.

Their allegiance with Ame might be a little on the shaky side, but he still couldn’t understand why they had to be treated as potential criminals every time they came and went.

“You’ll get used to them.”

Sasuke glanced to the side, his brother sitting cool and composed as always, deep voice seemingly never affected by anything that happened around him. He may love his brother to death, but there were times when he could get on his nerves like no one else. With one exception, possibly.

“I’ve been passing that border back and forth for the past, I don’t know, six years? If I’d get used to them it should have happened already.”

“Yes, well, thinking about the amount of times you’ve avoided passing them altogether, it’s not surprising you would feel a little worried.”

Sasuke ground his teeth, glaring at the innocent landscape instead, droplets hitting the moss in front of him. He hatedhaving to sneak in and out all the time. Oh, he knew being a ninja was all about being secretive and hidden, but they were living in dreary, constant rain at someone else’s mercy, and they weren’t even allowed free passage over the borders of a country that didn’t even have a fucking name!

“Sasuke…” his brother said softly, warning or perhaps reminding him of the situation they were in.

“We should keep moving,” he pointed out instead of answering, standing up and brushing some dirt off his pants.

Itachi simply nodded, dark eyes too knowing as they briefly met his, which only served to aggravate him more. Before stepping out into the light rain he closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, trying not to think of better places to be than a cold, faraway mountain at dusk. He could feel it in his fingertips, the itch to turn around and go back, the ache inside his heart that he tried so hard to leave behind those godforsaken lines between countries.

Every time was more difficult than the previous one, but squaring his shoulders he stepped out, turning left instead of right, jaw tense and eyes determined.

An hour later they were home, and he thought the word with guilt ridden contempt. It plagued him as he greeted his mother’s kind smile, struggling to get out of shoes that were yet again starting to feel too small.

“You sure grow fast,” she sighed, and he averted his eyes, torn between a sense of helplessness and anger.

It wasn’t his fault they were stuck in this awful place, but his mother was trying her best with the limited resources they had.

“Sorry,” he muttered, kissing her cheek before heading inside their small house, sticking his head into the living room to greet his father with a nod.

It wasn’t until he’d reached his own room that he allowed his shoulders to relax slightly, sinking down to sit on his narrow bed. The walls were undecorated, not even painted, showing the rough wood and the dampness of the outside world breaking through in one corner. He could still remember seeing it for the first time, barely eight years old and proud, jumping onto the bed with a big smile on his face. The memory was hazy, and one of the oldest he had.

The only thing that stood out more that day in his memory was standing in front of the crudely built village gate, staring up at the words in wonder. Uchiwagakure, the Hidden Fan Village, their clan symbol painted in red and white adorning the gate doors. Itachi had told him later, whispered it to him as he laid in bed and tried to sleep, that Uchiwa could also mean family if written in a different way, and that their name, Uchiha, was a word play on both meanings.

He hadn’t understood at the time why Itachi’s eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he told him, but now he thought he could understand better. He’d grown up believing in his father, in his mother, in their clan and in the pride the Uchiha name brought with it.

And now, at the age of seventeen, his brain told him to still believe, still be loyal and make his parents proud as a future leading member of the clan.

His heart, however…

Startled by a faint shuffling noise underneath his bed he frowned, leaning down to peek underneath it. Biting down a frustrated noise he rolled his eyes, trying to ignore his quickening pulse. He stretched a hand out, allowing the too-large-to-be-considered-normal frog to leap onto it.

“I told him not to send anything in at least two weeks,” he hissed at it, the frog shrugging at his complaint as if he’d heard it all before and still couldn’t do anything about it.

Muttering to himself about idiots who couldn’t ever listen to simple instructions, Sasuke accepted the tiny scroll the frog rolled out of its mouth using its tongue, not even flinching anymore at the fact that frog saliva coated the outside of it. He’d complained about that, too, but of course getting nothing in response but a sheepish grin and an apologetic chuckle.

As his eyes eagerly scanned the words scrawled onto the paper he had to swallow against the tightness in his throat. Only that particular moron was able to write such boorishly sentimental crap and get a reaction out of him.

If only, he thought, if only I didn’t need to live in this lie anymore…

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Even The Grinch Needs A Sidekick

Summary- 4k Mike (Me from Playing It Cool) x You. You have been busy, and today is no different. A children's Christmas Party at the hospital where you work is taking up all your time. Mike calls in Scott for some culinary help so you can have a relaxing night. Mike also finds a new friend and brings him home. Fluff. I really don’t think there are any warnings, but if you all pick up on something, go ahead and let me know. The lovely divider made by @firefly-graphics​ Happy Holiday Everyone

A/N- This wasn’t what I had planned for this chapter. But you know what, sometimes the story just does what it wants, damned if the writer wants that. I do love it though. 

Previous Chapter- Tonight It’s Scrooge McDuck

You tugged on your scrubs, having pulled out your favorite pair with The Grinch dressed as Santa Claus, Max with his single antler and little Cindy Lou Who with her red Christmas bauble. You hummed while grabbing your bell earrings when Mike came into the bedroom, glancing at you all dressed up for the hospital. “What's the occasion?” He questioned while turning you around and looking you up and down. 

“A group of us are going down into the children's ward to hand out some presents. I know I'm not supposed to wear the decorated scrubs, but it's once a year. Tomorrow I will go back to those boring as fuck ones.” You leaned up to kiss him swiftly before stepping around him. “But I'm going to be late, and I have an order of cookies to pick up on my way to work.” 

Mike followed you out, unlike you, he wasn't in a rush anywhere. It was a few days before Christmas and just as he had promised, he was about halfway done with Brian's script. The detective drama story line spoke to him a bit more than the rom-com scripts he was stuck with last time, and was finding it a hell of a lot easier to spend his day thinking about. 

You were busy packing a bag with some stuff you had picked up for the kids, and Mike grabbed a bagel he wrapped earlier, toasted lightly with cream cheese as well as a to go mug of coffee, you were distracted and listing off your to-dos when he handed them to you. “Don't forget to eat, and I got dinner tonight.” 

“Oh thank you, I know i have been all over the place the past week.” You paused when you saw what he had and took them to set the mug beside your bag, and pack away the bagel while continuing to talk to him. “You know… tonight is Chopped, and I shouldn’t be late tonight.” You bit your lip in a grin and turned to face him. “We might be able to beat our record.” Hinting at a bedroom game you two played, just for the hell of it.

Mike's eyes crinkled in the corner knowing well what you were playing at, reaching out to grab the front of your shirt and ease you forward into his arms, a grin softening his features as he wiggled his brows. “Think we will beat our time tonight. It's been awhile since we’ve messed around.” His hands slid down to cup your ass cheeks through your scrubs, making you arch into him, and you chuckled while easing your arms around his neck and tilting your head to press your lips to his, teasing darts of the tongue dragging against his bottom lip before pulling away, not letting the kiss get to that deep needing way. That has caused you to be late before and you weren’t going to let yourself be late today.

“That will have to wait till tonight Mike.” You wink at him as he groans as if waiting was not in his plan. “See you later tonight, and smile Baby, no being a Grinch just before Christmas.” You shouldered your bag and backed to the door to stay out of his reach, and slipped out the door with a grin. Mike snapped the door open as you were heading down the stairs. 

“Love you to Y/N” He shouted, and you waved back at him before disappearing from sight. Mike closed the door behind him, and pulled out his phone to scroll through his contacts. Hitting Scott’s name, he pressed dial and waited through the rings before a groggy voice answered. 

“What Man, it's 7 am, what in the hell do you already want Mike?” Scott snapped out and Mike grinned hearing his best friend. 

“Good Morning to you to Scott, are you still up for helping me tonight?” Mike asked and Scott groaned out a yes before hanging up. Whistling Mike grabbed a piece of toast and went to his computer to get to work. A text came through a short time later, a grocery list for Mike to pick up. 

Mike was coming back from the store with the ingredients Scott sent him a list of when he heard something shuffling in an alleyway he was passing. His head tilted when he heard the whimper that shifted into a scared woof, and Mike turned partially into the dirty alleyway, a particularly smelly dumpster half blocked it from sight and the light bright street seemed to grow into a darker ominous presence the further he stepped in, listening intently for that noise again. “Hello?” He asked cautiously, and all that filled his mind was somebody stashed behind the disgusting dumpster, and then he would be pulled into questioning by the cops… 

I really gotta stop watching those dramas Y/N liked so much he thought to himself as he peered into the edge of the dumpster to see nothing then dirty black garbage bags that had been torn into. Nothing unusual. But under the dumpster came a whine, rather pathetic, and Mike looked down between his feet to see a black nose with streaked white fur peek out with a loud sniff against his shoe, and a tilt had it grabbing at his shoelaces that were half hanging loose. “Hey!” he exclaimed and backed up to see the nose disappear back under the dumpster.

 “Here boy… or girl, whatever you are.” Mike called while shifting to a kneel while setting his groceries aside and landing carefully on his palms to lean down and peek under the dumpster. At first there was nothing to see, but then a puppy was trying to wriggle its way out the other side, on its belly with its back legs stretched out behind him. 

Mike was quick to bolt around the dumpster to see the puppy almost out from underneath it. Covered in mud and who knows what else, his head much bigger than the rest of his body, Mike was able to nab the puppy on the nape of his neck and pick him up, which he hung there growling and barking, his hind end and tail curled up in the fetal position. “Okay little guy, just hold on. Promise not to bite me and I will quit holding you like this.” Mike folded his arm to cradle under the puppy’s backside, and let him lean against his chest. He weighed practically nothing, it seemed all his matted fur made him appear bigger then he actually was. Once he was supported, he quit squirming and studied the man. All while Mike studied him back, now unsure of what to do with him. 

Big brown eyes started to droop as a wet black nose bopped against Mikes, and that sealed the deal. Sure there apartment didn't allow dogs but Mike couldn't just leave him there. “Guess you're coming home with me. I already know Y/N will be thrilled.” He grabbed his bag of groceries and made his way back to the apartment, sure to rush up the three flights of stairs and try to shift puppy, and groceries into one arm to get his keys. The puppy ended up wriggling in his arm and he set him down between his shoes to dig out his keys from his pants pocket while the wide eyed mutt peeked around his leg and bounded down the hallway, yipping. “No! Boy get back here.” Mike shoved the door open, along with the groceries before he sprinted after the fleeing canine to get him back. Scooping him up, he rushed back towards his door when the neighbor poked her head out. “Mike, what are you doing?” 

“Uh nothing Mrs. Beatrix… Sorry to have bothered you.” He waved one handed over his shoulder while trying to contain the squirming pup in his arms. Once he dipped into the apartment, half tripping over the bag of groceries, Mike slammed the door shut and set the puppy down, who dropped nose to the floor and started weaving back and forth. 

“Listen man… if this is gonna work out, you have to help out.” Mike said, kicking off his tennis shoes and grabbing the bag to bring to the kitchen, right behind him was the pitter patter of nails on linoleum and while he was emptying the bag of stuff for Scott, a pair of paws pressed against the back of his calves. A loud whine issued, and looking over his shoulder, he chuckled. “Hungry, arnt ya kiddo? Okay, lets see if Y/N has any ham left over from the night before.” He turned and searched the fridge, the puppy right there with his head stuck in it as well. 

It was much later when Scott came over, Mike was working on his script as well as keeping an eye on the new house guest when his ears perked to Scott entering the apartment, his arms filled as well with a couple bags that he set down. 

“Uuuh, are you babysitting someone's dog?” Scott asked curiously while his shoes were getting inspected. And Mike snapped his laptop shut to look over the edge of his desk at them. 

“No, I found him wedged under a dumpster. I couldn’t leave him there.” Mike dropped his hand and gave a soft whistle, which the pup gave Scott one last sniff before barreling back to Mike which scooped him up into his lap, scratching behind his ears. 

“What do you think Y/N will say?” Scott dropped his bags onto the counter and started to unpack and add his ingredients with the stuff Mike had picked up earlier. 

“I think she will be secretly thrilled.” Mike ruffled the pups ears and then set him back down on the floor. He moved to a stand and crossed into the kitchen to scrub his hands clean. “She loves dogs and watch her insist we keep him.” 

“Even when your landlord doesn't allow dogs here?” Scott was asking with a slight laugh while peeling open all the spices, and Mike took his time making faces down at the pup while drying his hands. 

“Eh, hes hardly around and we will figure it out. Besides, I would like to get out of this building, nothing ever works. Last week the hot water was out for the hundredth time it seems. This block always loses power first and last to get it back. Time for an upgrade, Brian already has another script for me to work on after this one finishes. If I really work on it, I should be done right after Christmas.” 

Scott grimaced a bit, but kept himself turned away from Mike while listening to him. “You know… a break afterwards might not be a bad thing, You’ve been writing steadily since before October. I know you're on a streak, but you have to come up for air sometime.” 

Mike shrugged at Scott. “Hey, I gotta take the pieces where I can get them right? Money is good and getting my name known will help in the long run. It's nothing I can’t handle. I know I’ve been distant a bit with Y/N, why you are here today, teaching me how to roast a chicken.” 

“I don’t know how you convinced me to do this. What person doesn't know how to cook a meal for their partner? You two have been dating for two years and this is the first time?” He scolded Mike while grabbing vegetables to give a rinse in the sink. The pup had planted himself between the two men, his ears perked while swinging his head back and forth to listen. 

“Take out, out to dinner, breakfast? I don't know, it just hasn’t happened. But tonight my man, with your help, I’m changing that. Y/N has been working hard the last couple weeks, and I know this will make her feel special.” Mike rolled up his sleeves, preparing to help Scott with whatever he needed while winking at their guest. “And who better to help me then you? You and Neil took all those cooking classes together. So what is on the menu tonight?” Mike leaned in to look at a bag, which Scott shooed him out and reached in pulling out the last thing Mike expected, a whole chicken. 

“Roast chicken, garlic baby red potatoes, a nice side salad, and rolls. You really can't get easier than that, and it speaks sophisticated.” Scott informed him while placing the chicken in the sink. 

“Easy? Dude that's a whole damn bird.” Mike scoffed while coming around the counter. “What do you want me to do with it?” 

Scott was already going through the kitchen, grabbing cooking pans and aluminum foil. “Well you can start with unwrapping the chicken and giving it a rinse.” 

Mike gave the chicken a look and took a breath. “No big deal, right pupper?” Mike directed at the puppy, who yipped in excitement and tipped his head back to give a cheeky howl, making both the men laugh at his reaction. 

The crash course into cooking had Mike's head spinning. Scott had him chopping, dicing, sprinkling seasonings, tossing stuff together and when he finally got the pans into the oven, he took a deep breath. “Okay what's next?” Mike was now on his toes, ready for the next project but Scott was busy washing his hands. 

“Now you wait an hour, check it by popping one of the legs near the joint and seeing if the juices run clear. Also let it rest when you take it out for good, or else it will be dry as hell.” Scott informed while drying his hands. “Also you need to get cleaned up. And give the poor dog a bath.” Scott leaned down where the puppy scooted away from Mike and sniffed at his fingers, giving them a lick first and then a playful bite which Scott shook his finger loose from the tiny teeth. Mike watched a moment before checking his phone. 

“Y/N will be home soon, so I will get on that. I bet he's a pretty cute pup under all that dirt.” Mike leaned down to pick him up, and Scott straightened, grabbing his reusable grocery bags and tucked them under his arm. 

“Text me tomorrow to let me know how it came out and we on for Saturday at the bowling alley?” Scott approached the door and Mike followed, turning the pup around to wave his paw at Scott.

“Yes Uncle Scott.” Mike mimicked in a joking high pitched voice, leaving Scott rolling his eyes at his friend. 

“Bite him would ya? You still got those sharp baby teeth.” Scott let himself out and Mike twisted the puppy once more to face him. 

“What an ass huh?” Which rewarded him with a resounding woof in agreement and a nip at the end of his nose. “God damn it, you weren't supposed to listen to him.” Mike grumbled while retreating to the bathroom, knowing the timer would let him know when to check on the chicken. “Okay, what's safe to use on you?” he questioned while setting the pup down in the bathtub and pulled out his phone to google while starting to put warm water in the tub. 

You trudged up the apartment's stairs, a few gift bags hanging off your arm from some of the long time residents at the hospital. You were exhausted and really looking forward to opening up that bottle of wine you’ve been saving and crashing on the couch with Mike. 

Jingling keys from your coat pocket and letting yourself in, the first thing that you noticed was the smell of chicken and potatoes wafting in from the kitchen, making your stomach roll in hunger and your mouth water. Following your nose, you went to drop off your bags when you called out “Mike? Where you at?” You had expected him to be in front of his glowing computer screen, where he usually was when in the middle of writing a script, but not tonight. 

“Will you stop it? I'M IN HERE.” You heard him call from down the hallway, and after you toed off your shoes, you started down to hear something whining and splashing. 

“Mike… what's going on?” You question as you stop at the bathroom doorway to see something you never expected to see. Mike was kneeling next to the tub and hanging off the edge was soggy paws and a soapy puppy giving the most pitiful look up at him while wagging his tail, sending a trail of water and soap spreading all over the room. 

“I said cut that out!” Mike wailed while reaching to catch the tail and squeeze out the excess water from it before letting it go, which just started the sloppy wagging again and a howl now while Mike attempted to rinse him off. “Welcome home Baby.” 

You just melt at the scene, grabbing a towel off the counter and unfolding it while Mike moves to a stand, picking the soaked dripping pup with him and you go to wrap him up in the fluffy towel. “Mike, where did you find this sweet baby?” You croon as you go to gently rub him dry, cupping his face and smiling at him. 

“Well… Under a dumpster a few blocks away.” Mike let you take the pup in your arms as your gently swaying him back and forth, still crooning and nuzzling him while hes giving licks to the tip of your nose. “I couldn't leave him there.” 

“Absolutely not.” You turned to leave the bathroom, leaving Mike to drain and rinse the tub while you brought your new friend out to the living room. Having him still wrapped in a towel, you settled on the couch and started to unwrap him from the towel, seeing his little yawns as he curled up on your scrub clad thighs. “Who would just leave you out there all alone little baby?” 

Mike finished up, taking a quick peek at his chicken, which had turned a deep golden brown, and the scent of sage and butter wafted from the open oven. Pulling it out, he listened to you talking to the puppy while setting it on the counter to let it sit before cutting into it. 

“Wine?” He called out while pulling out your favorite glass, already knowing the answer when you resounded a yes from the other room. Pouring it, he went back in to sit down next to you, handing you the wine and tossing his arm over your shoulder to pull you in closer. Tucking in his side, you hummed softly while softly petting the snoring pup in your lap. 

“We should think about what we're going to do with him.” You sigh a bit, scritching behind his ear while he twisted in your lap and went belly up, your fingers tickling along the pink of his belly. 

Mike considered it, letting his own fingers trail along your shoulder. “Why not keep him? We only have a few months left of our lease. About time we move right? Maybe something bigger.” 

You had never heard Mike talk like this, like in the future setting. He had always been in the moment, by the seat of your pants kind of man, and you were always a bit nervous to even bring up the future with him. You cleared your throat a bit while looking up at him, straightening a bit, which jostled the puppy just a bit and woke him up with a whining yawn, stretching in your lap. “You really want that Mike?” You searched his face and he shrugged, a tinge of pink along the top of his cheeks. 

“Well I wouldn't mention it if I didn't Y/N.” He teased while reaching for the pup who started to wriggle around in your lap, and set him down on the floor before pushing himself to a stand. “Come, I actually made a real dinner and you still gotta tell me about work. Did that intern drive you crazy today?” He efficiently changed the subject, which you let him. Slipping into his hold, you went to help him in the kitchen. Leaning over the counter as he transferred the chicken, you inhaled deeply. 

“You made this Mike?” you asked incredulously with an arched brow, waiting for him to confess that it was an order in and he made it look homemade, but he smirked at you while starting to carve. 

“I will have you know I made this myself.” 

You gave him the look, the one that demanded the ultimate truth. 

“With Scotts help, okay. But I did the work.” Mike plucked a piece of chicken loose and held it to you, which you popped in your mouth, licking at your lip and grinning at how it tasted. Reaching for another piece and plucking a piece to give to the puppy waiting patiently at your foot. “Scott just instructed me on what to do.” 

“His classes are paying off. Maybe he can become our free instructor.” You joked while going around the counter to finish helping Mike get stuff ready and for the first time in a while you two sat at the table instead of crashing in front of the tv with junk food. Soon plates were pushed aside, full from the excellent food and tired after the long day, you went to take a quick shower while Mike cleaned up the kitchen. 

Coming back out dressed in sleep shorts and a tank, you found Mike laying on the couch with the puppy standing on his back legs, front paws on the couch trying to jump up. Mike scooped him up onto the couch with him, whispering to him. “Looks like your staying boy, what are we going to name you? Buster? You almost look like a Buster.” You approached the couch and Mike shifted enough so you could lay down along his side, half wedged on him and between the couch, laying your head on Mike's shoulder. 

“Hmmm, what about Scout?” You wiggle your nose at the puppy, who efficiently ignored both names, proceeding to chew on Mike's shirt, the Christmas lights on the tree being the only glow in the room. You smiled and whispered out. “Hey Max… look at me.” 

Which the brown and white puppy immediately perked up, and Mike shook his head. “Max? Why Max?” 

You grinned while watching Max perk up every time Mike said his name, your giggle muffled against his shirt. “We needed a Christmas dog name.” Then you hummed out Your A Mean One Mr.Grinch. “Max can be your sidekick now Mr.Grinch.” 

Mike gave a laugh, running his fingers along your hips, making you laugh out and trying to pull away. Max growled out, barreling against you and Mike to tug at Mikes hand, and you grasped the pup to set him aside gently so that you two rough housing didn’t end up getting him hurt. 

“Seems like he is more your sidekick Baby.” Mike smirked as he pulled you in closer to him, flushing kisses against your neck and rubbing up and down your back. You settled back in against his chest. “Ready for bed?” He asked, calculating how many hours were left so he could write a bit after you fell asleep. 

“Mmhh, it was such a nice evening, I hate to end it so soon.” You tilted your head up to press your lips to his and Mike pushed up to a sit. 

“We will pick it up tomorrow. Besides, I should probably take the rugrat out to potty, now that it’s dark out.” 

Your arms eased around his neck and you gave him a more passionate loving kiss in thank you, and eased up. “I will see you when you come back up Mike.” Max sat there watching the two of you and you ruffled Max’s ears, then headed to the bedroom. Mike watched you go down the hallway and then looked to see Max had ditched him to go check out the tree, sniffing excitedly when Mike's eyes sprang wide to see him pop a squat. 

“Max! No!” Mike yelled, springing up to catch the pup. 

[stareiiez]

Mephistophelian Summer

Chapter 1.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 𝟚.𝟡𝕜

𝔸/ℕ: Hello, Hello! <3 Tonight at 1:11 am I bring you the first chapter of my horror au! There’s no horror going on right now, it’s just setting up the basis for the reason why and where the horror of this fic takes place. 

Warnings: Cursing and Foul words, that’s about it! 

𝑀𝑒𝑝𝘩𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝𝘩𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑛: adj: showing the cunning or ingenuity or                                       wickedness typical of a devil; also see:                                                                  devilish; diabolic; diabolical; mephistophelean; evil.

The ticking of the bell that hit 11:30 am, it seemed the clock's noise rang in Tucker's mind louder than the students' chatter and laughter that rang in his classroom. His head was propped up on both of the palms of his hands as his dark brown eyes narrowed in on the white clock's face. It seemed like the large and small hand of the clock seemed to move slower than normal, just because it was prolonging the students of Vallahala High. Summer would begin right when the clock would strike noon, and the early release would grant sweet sweet freedom for the next three months of blissful vacation. Tucker couldn't help but grin at the plan that was forming in his head-on just how he would spend his summertime. Unlike most of his peers would get summer jobs to save up money, Tucker would be wasting his time with his group of friends doing everything and going anywhere he wanted without a care in his world.

A  smooth grin spread over his lips as his eyes got a little hazy from his daydreams. It wasn't until his summer daydreams were ruined by the vibrating phone in his jeans back pocket. The bright cellphone screen lit up with multiple messages from the group chat him and his friends had created a few years back. In this chat, conversations ranged from absolute chaotic mindnumbing interactions to the dissecting every little thing about their lives and beyond their home planet. Usually, Grif would insinuate these conversations when he would smoke two or three joints and spam the group chat with his otherworldly conversations.

His phone screen lit up from already ten or more messages from the said group chat. Without care, Tucker settled back into his seat and unlocked his phone. The teacher didn't care, it was the last day of school and they too might be counting down the minutes for summer vacation. Until next week when they would go back to teaching some poor sorry sap of students that didn't manage to pass both fall and spring semester with the best grades in the world. Thank god his future goal major wasn't education.

Fellow Delinquiants, and Dick and Carolina.

11:37 am Dickhead 1: So what's this about some big summer plans?

11:37 am David: Summer plans? I was applying for that summer job you know-

11:39 am Stoner McGee: Work? During freedom? You make me tired.

11: 39 am David: Well... Carolina is getting a summer job with me too-

11:40 am Tucker: BOOOOO you both suck ass

11: 40 am Tucker: Listen assholes, there's no work this summer; because we are going camping.

11:41 am Redhead: We are doing what?

11:43 am Tucker: Relax, I'll let you all in on my plan when we get out of this hellhole.

11:46 am Dick: The outdoors seems fun!

11:48 am Sis: Camping? Are you on crack Tucker?

11:49 am Donut: If we're camping I vote on bringing food!

Well, at least some people were on board with the idea. Before he could read any more group text messages Tucker slipped his phone back into his pocket and sighed contently. This summer was going to be the best thing to happen to him in a while. Ever since he concluded that he was for sure graduating next year, and a few of his friends had already planned their future that didn't seem to involve him, it was starting to sound shitty. Call him a pussy, or bully him but he had abandonment issues. He hated being alone or being left behind, that's why most of his time was at least spent with at least his group of friends or at least one of his friends. He needed to feel secure and safe, and by god did they make him feel like he had a second family. This summer was the last summer he could spend normally without the stress of college looming over his shoulder, or friends coming and going. He wanted to have fun and take charge of the rest of his youth before it was forever locked away in the state of some four-year hell of education so he can get a job.

Once the clock finally hit 12, Tucker had sprung up from his seat like something struck him. His backpack was slung over his right shoulder and he all but ran out of the classroom along with the other excited students. Papers were flung in the air, and screams and chatter filled the air. Notebooks were flung, textbooks were thrown in the trash and homework filled binders were torn apart. The papers scattered and fluttered through the air in a victorious motion. Tucker jogged through the halls, his body weaving through bodies and moving fluidly with the masses of people who were making their escape through the school's front doors.

The large wooden doors were flung open and the ruckus filled the open air, classmates ran all over. Some made their ways to their cars, some stuck around to say goodbye to their friends, or others sprinted into the aligned school buses that awaited to take them home for the last time in the school year. The bright sunny, noon air shined upon Tucker as he inhaled his first noseful of fresh air. 'Ah freedom, so that's what it smells like.'

A content sigh slipped past his lips while he leaned back against the school statue of its mascot. One large puma that has it's back arched and teeth bare. They just changed to the Pumas after some big back and forth argument in the school district of Blood Gulch High should accept and appreciate their mascot if it was a warthog. The school cringed as well as the student body when they first found out that their school teams were about to be known as the Blood Gulch Warthogs. They wanted to be feared and at least have some kind of ring to it, so the school board decided on naming Blood Gulch, The Blood Gulch Pumas. It was pretty stupid to argue over some type of animal that resembles their school if it was up to Tucker. This highschool reminded him of chihuahuas. All talk and not enough bite.

"Hey man." A male voice spoke up before Tucker could bask in his summer freedom for a little longer. The male tilted his head to greet the new presence, and couldn't help but grin.

David 'Washington.' stood before him. All dark brown hair, with the blonde dye that was accenting the tips of his spiky hair. The blonde dyed tips were part of a half tipsy dare at the beginning of the junior year and Carolina had managed to do a decent job in dying his hair correctly. Wash, at first nearly died at the sight of his new hair. Then slowly for a week he slowly accepted the blonde accenting the dark brown of his natural hair color. Even his parents thought it looked nice and even joked that he should go full blonde, something that Wash had somewhat considered but never went through with it yet. He casually slipped the second strap of his backpack over his left shoulder, and his large palms grasped the two straps contently.

"Where's the rest of the guys?" Tucker asked once he reciprocated his greeting to one of his best friends.

"Carolina is dragging Church here since I'm sure Allison is trying to shove her tongue down his throat by now. Grif is going to drive his little sister home and then meet up with us with Simmons, Donut, and Frank."

"Why exclude Sis? She's always the life of the party." Tucker frowned.

A small scoff as a shy grin slipped over David's lips, "Please? Her? She's that and a whole ass hurricane."

"Exactly why she's invited with us to these summer plans of mine." Tucker grinned, a little more cooly than needed.

"Right, what kind of plans are we-"

"Hey! I said I'm going goddamnit!" Another voice cut in, this one pitched up higher in distress as a few grunts left his lips.

Both males tore their attention away from each other to watch a fiery redheaded girl grab a dark-haired male by the back of his shirt towards the two. The dark-haired male's arms were flailing about as he fought to keep up with the long-legged strides that the redheaded female took to meet the two boys.

"I can walk on my own, you know?! You're embarrassing me." The male hissed as the female finally unhanded him, her long pale arms crossed over her chest as her nose lifted slightly in the air with a huff.

"Really? Seems like you couldn't walk straight after you seemed to be having your soul sucked out of you by the blonde bitch." The girl growled back, anger set in her bright green eyes.

"Told you," Wash whispered to Tucker, making the other snort with amusement. It was cut short when the green-eyed gaze was sliced over to the two instead, silencing any ore commentary about her little brother.

"Just because you're only 30 minutes older than me, does not mean you can just drag me anywhere." The dark-haired male huffed more, he stood up straight and fixed the black-framed glasses on his nose. His duller green eyes were narrowed in a glare at his sibling.

"Church always glad to see you," Tucker commented, his eyes swept over the pasty-skinned male. A shit-eating smile took over his features as he caught the smear of dark red covering his entire mouth and one place on his neck. 'My man.' Tucker thought slimly.

"Hey, Leonard you got a little.." Wash spoke up, his finger pointing to his mouth. A small blush adorned his freckle splattered cheekbones and nose, his eyes quickly averting when realization dawned on the other's face.

The smear of the lipstick only colored the redhead's face in a little more irritation than necessary. The tension hung over the four heads, and with Carolina nearly on verge of bringing all hell loose to her little brother and his girlfriend. Wash cleared his throat and shot Tucker a look, one that had Tucker shoving his hand in his back pocket and fishing his car keys out

“Let's get some lunch fuckers." He said, returning Wash's look, and lead the three to his car.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Slim's Pickens, a dinner that has better food than its cursed name, had the best food in probably the whole town. The radio station lulled in the background of the diner. Chatter, silverware clinking against plates was comforting in a way, this one diner had the aura of 'Welcome Home.' and that was one of the reasons why it was the group's favorite spot to hang out at. Tucker had his feet propped up on the chair next to him as he scrolled on his phone, his eyes scouring through a few text messages he sent to Grif. He had been pestering and frankly pissing off his friend, to get the rest of his friend group to the diner. He was too impatient to lay down his big summer plan. With a groan, Tucker shut his phone screen off and tossed his head back over the chair's back.

"What is it with you today? You're so jumpy and you practically shoved us into your car." Wash commented, his gaze was on Tucker for a while now. He was watching the impatience grow more and more on Tucker's features, and it only made him snort in amusement.

"You nearly hit seven cars on your way here, and nearly ran through two red lights," Carolina added, her head was propped up on her hand and a single eyebrow rose in judgment.

"You will know when the other idiots are here." Tucker huffed, his eyes roamed over to Carolina. The once pissed off look on her face from her little brother was far gone, thanks to her practically forcing him to clean off the marks and lipstick stains Tex had left on his face.

"Well if you're going to play the waiting game, I am going to order something to eat." Carolina hummed, before picking up the menu and leaned over the table to David. Their chatter over what sounded better to eat, or certain prices.

20 minutes later, a clean Church, and plates of fries and other items of food that was placed before the four; Grif, Sister, Simmons, Donut, and Frank Dufrense had joined them. Finally.

"Alright, asshole tell me why you nearly made me get in a car crash from all your stupid texts," Grif said as he plopped down in the chair in front of Tucker. He didn't hesitate to steal a curly fry from Wash's plate and shove it in his mouth. His dark eyebrow rose as he chewed.

Tucker frowned before answering. "I already figured out what we are going to do this summer."

"If you're bringing up that camping trip-"

"Yes I am bringing it up, come on! It'll be so fucking great. Us, a private lake, privacy, alcohol. All the works!"

"Woo! Par-tay! Let's get it!" Sis cheered, her hands flinging up in the air as an excited grin split across her lips. Her eyes sparkled at the thought of getting shit-faced and puking her guts out in the crystal clear lake; then go skinny dipping in the waters at the dead of night.

"Oh no, the hell you aren't! No parties! You're three years younger and so underage." Grif bit out, his gaze fixed on his sibling that was sitting at the far end of the table right in front of Carolina. His voice ruining the enthusiastic expression on Sister's face.

"You're not my mom! Don't tell me what to do!"

"I'll kick your ass like our mom, I'll break my lazy rule of not doing shit just for you."

"Where exactly are we going to go do this if we agree?" Simmons pipped up from beside Grif.

"A place I always camped at with my Dad during the summer. It's called Tahoe Wood but I call it paradise."

"Tahoe Wood? You mean as in that endless fucking woods that most people get lost in Tahoe Wood?" Church commented, his voice sounding not too pleased in the slightest.

"You have me as a guide, come on I know that place like the back of my hand." Tucker scoffed.

"I am just brimming with confidence that nothing shitty will happen to us."

"Hey! Fuck you man!"

"Tucker, how long are we going to stay there?" Frank "Doc" cut in before Tucker or Church could further curse each other out in the diner.

It's happened at least once or twice, and each time the two were escorted outside by the waiters and left outside to cool off. They were allowed back inside once they at least said sorry to each other. They were treated like little kids for being in high school, but it came from a place of fondness. The employees all came to know the friend group well since they used the diner to hang out and eat almost once or twice every week.

"One week tops, think of it as a 'fuck you school' getaway." Tucker shrugged, his eyes watched as Grif stole a few more fries from Wash's plate. How the dyed blonde male didn't scold the other from stealing his food away more than once was a shock. "When are you and Carolina getting those summer jobs?" Tucker asked Wash.

"Sometime in the second week of June." Wash glanced at Carolina for confirmation.

"Since it is the last week of May, let's do this shit! Come on! Start the summer with a fucking bang!" Tucker pleaded, the palms of his hands smacking the table in the emphasis of his words. Plates clanged and silverware rattled from the vibrations, the noise drew several eyes of customers that were contently eating to glance over at the group.

"If we agree to this stupid trip will you shut up?" Church hissed, his eyes darting to the customers in the diner then back to Tucker. His pale green eyes were sharp and slightly cold as a wave of annoyance washed over his features.

Only when Church was pissed, annoyed, or just slightly miffed he looked like Carolina. He was the spitting image of their father, just like Carolina was a spitting image of their mother. Except Carolina had dyed her naturally blonde hair a fire engine red when she turned 16 and kept it red from since then on.

"Yes," Tucker said, rather smugly.

"Then yes! Now shut up."

"Hey! You don't speak for the rest of us. Camping sounds boring, and tiring work." Grif complained.

"Grif, shut up! I'm not going to hear Tucker complain for another hour about this trip. You go, or my sister is kicking your ass to Tahoe Wood and back!" Church hissed under his breath.

Well at least Tucker was satisfied, he would simply grin to himself as Grif bickered with Church. The two were bent over Carolina and Simmons that were sitting next to them. Donut and "Doc" were frankly content on conversating and adding in friendly banter to the swelling argument between the two males. It didn't help that both Grif and Church would yell at Donut or Doc to 'shut up and butt the fuck out' before going back to their argument.

This is going to be the best vacation ever.

[politics-notmything]

Hello! I came here from Wattpad and I wanted to ask you if you can do prompt 12 of the Prompt List? Maybe like........ Anne gets pregnant and she's afraid Parr's gonna leave her? (Sorry if I'm being rude, this is my second day on Tumblr and I still don't know how to work things out)

I can’t pretend it’s okay when it’s not. (Part 1)

hiiiii I’m so happy you found me on wattpad and this is an amazing idea! I LOVE! And I hope you like! 

TW for, mentions of rape, pregnancy, homophobia, language and violence. - PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU MIGHT BE AFFECTED BY ANY OF THESE THINGS! - 

Prompt: “Please, please don’t leave me!”

“Cathy?” Anne breathed, they were in her girlfriend’s room, in Cathy’s bed and she was under Cathy’s arm. Her girlfriend’s arm. 

She didn’t want to fuck that man but he cornered her in an alley as she was walking back from the theatre alone. He had asked for a ‘good time’ but Anne just kept on walking, he was too strong and wouldn’t back down, and no one came to help even if Anne had used all of her remaining energy screaming. She held her hand to her stomach to remember the weeks that followed. Anne didn’t want to eat or sleep, she kept on getting flashbacks to that night and terrible mood swings, but It was on the night that she threw up did the realisation hit her that she could possibly be pregnant with that man’s child. Kitty was always there, she heard Anne crying in her room and comforted her, Kitty also ran out to the local pharmacy to get a pregnancy test for Anne and the results came back positive. Obviously. Anne always had the worst of luck. She didn’t even know if Cathy wanted a baby, they never got that far. Sure, she’d given birth to Mae in the past but maybe she didn’t want another child the two weren’t married yet! Anne had just planned where she was going to hold the engagement and found the money to pay off the ring. Shit, the ring. 

Anne had bought a beautiful tanzanite ring for Parr, It was pure silver and housed a perfectly cut gem and Anne made sure to have Cathy’s favourite quote, ‘love is free’ engraved around the side but what if Cathy didn’t want to marry a whore, she was perfect in Anne’s eyes and shouldn’t have to marry the monstrous, gremlin-like Anne, she deserved more, someone better. 

“yea?” Cathy hummed, snapping Anne out of her thoughts. 

“do you love me?” Anne asked shyly.

“Annie, there is no one else I’ve ever loved more! Not Thomas, not Henry, just you and only you. You’re my whole world, Anne!”

Anne gulped, she could feel the bile rise up in her stomach but held it down. She didn’t want Cathy to see her like this, defenceless, torn, broken.

“Cathy I’ve made a terrible mistake,” Anne’s voice broke and Cathy went to comfort her girlfriend but Anne pulled back, “I love you so much Catherine Parr but I don’t know how you could ever love someone like me!” Tears flooded Anne’s dark green eyes and the confusion on Cathy’s delicate face told her to tell the truth. “Cathy, I’m pregnant!” 

Catherine’s face fell, her mind couldn’t quite process what Anne had just said and neither could the other queen. Anne had never said them allowed to anyone before and now she heard the truth, all the feeling she had inside came pouring out. The dam had burst and Anne was a sobbing mess on Cathy’s bed. 

“How did this happen?” Cathy didn’t know why she was shaking so much, her voice was monotone and she needed to know the whole story, was this Anne getting carried away after drinking too much or something worse. 

“I, I was walking home from the theatre,” Anne blabbed between deep breaths and wiping away her tears, ‘I was like he was waiting for me, he had large pupils and stunk of alcohol and booze. He asked me to fuck him but I turned him down, I said I had a girlfriend waiting for me and home and left him to it.” Anne had composed herself a little bit more now. She was still shaking and crying but her words were more audible. “He continued to follow me, he said he could turn me back and he-” Anne didn’t want to say the words.

“He did what? What did he do to you, Annie?” Cathy’s tone went from worried to desperate.  

“he, he, he forced himself onto me.” Anne sobbed, “he raped me, Cathy he raped me!” Anne screamed out the final words and broke down again.

Cathy rushed over to her girlfriend and held her tightly in her arms and wiped away her tears, she rocked Anne back and forth stroking her hair and telling her that it was going to be okay over and over again. 

“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t stop him.” Anne sobbed into Cathy’s chest, “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want to I tried to get away I really did, Please, please don’t leave me! I asked him to use protection…” 

Cathy cupped Anne’s cheek and looked into her bloodshot eyes, “What else happened?” 

“I asked him to use a condom but he said he didn’t need it. That’s when I tried to run but he held me down.” 

“Have you tested?” Cathy asked slowly, “I’m not mad, I just want to know.” 

“Please, please don’t leave me.” A single tear fell down Anne’s cheek. 

Cathy held a quivering hand against Anne’s stomach as she processed the message. “Baby,” She addressed Anne, “I love you till the end’s of the earth, you’re amazing at everything you do and deserve the world and more! Of course, I won’t leave you! I never will! I love you more than the stars love the night, your the light in my darkness and my soulmate for the rest of my life. So, you’re stuck with me because I’m not going anywhere. I’m so sorry for what you had to deal with and everything will face during these nine months but I love you and will always support you. Whatever you choose, I will stand by your side because I love you, Anne Boleyn.” 

Anne smiled, Cathy had always been the best with words and she embraced Anne in a tight hug, kissing her forehead.

‘I love you too, Catherine Parr.” 

[join-the-club-weve-got-jackets]

Klelijah or Klebekah? Klarcel or Klope? :D

Klelijah or Klebekah: Anything but these two ships, please! This is like asking someone to pick their favorite child. But seriously, I've spent a lot of time this evening thinking about this one. I've gone back and forth a lot, even as I write this. How to decide between Klaus and his big brother or Klaus and his little sister? Especially when there are so many things I love and am caused great pain by with both of these relationships.

If you look at it, Elijah and Rebekah both stuck with Klaus in their own ways. With Rebekah, she stuck with him through all the good times and the bad. Through all the positives and negatives, all the love and hate between them. No matter how toxic their relationship got or how much she may have believed that he could never change, she could never truly leave him. With Elijah, he may not have always stayed with Klaus the way Rebekah did, but he is the one who always held on to the hope that Klaus could be redeemed and that the brother they knew grewing up was still inside there somewhere. No matter what terrible things Klaus did (minus a few instances), Elijah would eventually be able to forgive him and stand by his side once again, like they had done time and time again through the ages. Even if Rebekah was Klaus's favorite, once he finally learned to let her go, it was Elijah that he struggled to function without. So I am still just so incredibly torn between these two.

I think the deciding factor to me is Rebekah leaving in season one. I loved their stuff up until that point and that arc with Rebekah finally being set free was beautifully done. But ultimately, we got to see so much less of Rebekah and Klebekah because of this, especially toward the later seasons. In those seasons, she just guest-starred in a couple episodes and had the majority of her scenes with Marcel anyway. Whereas we had Elijah around for the entire show, so we got to see five whole seasons of Klelijah content and development, to the point that they ended up dying together. So after much deliberation, I'm going to go with Klelijah.

Klarcel or Klope: On the other hand, this one had a clear winner. As much as I love the very layered, complex relationship between Klaus and Marcel, anyone who follows me should know by now that Klope owns my heart and soul. Take from this what you will, but I have always had a soft spot for special/interesting, positive, and heartwarming father-daughter relationships. For OUAT, I loved Charming and Emma. For the short-lived Life Unexpected, I loved Baze and Lux. For Baby Daddy, I loved watching Ben with Emma. And I'm sure there are many others. But a fucked-up, murderous, thousand-year-old hybrid and his magical, miracle baby girl who teaches him unconditional love, now you don't get much more special than that in my eyes. It's because I love Klaus and Hope's relationship as deeply as I do though, that I am so hurt at times by how the TO writers handled them and by how things are going on the spinoff.

[fan-clan-fun]

Skyclan Reborn Chapter 4: The Mother

Sidenote, this is the next installment of my Skyclan AU. Im posting this chapter because I want to keep it going and see if anyone is still interested in it. Previous chapters are tagged #skyclanreborn and should be easy to search on the blog.

He regretted agreeing to this.

While he couldnt avoid his promise to Pansy to visit the clowder forever, he had decided that visiting them at night would be much more dangerous for him, so he had waited for the open light of day to approach them.

The mixed scents of the clowder just reached his nose, but he stood respectfully at the edge of what he knew to be their territory, in a cluttered grassy alleyway which was their main entrance. Even as he debated whether he should stay or turn back, one of their patrols rounded the bend, and stiffened at the site of him.

One of the shecats, a bristling brown tabby, he didn't recognize, but the other, bigger black female he knew. Raven. He was pretty sure he had a small scar hidden under the fur by his jaw from a warning swipe she gave him once.

Just because he was allowed near the clowder did not mean they took kindly to him getting too close to the younger kits.

“Oh, it's you.” She said drily, her tail swishing back and forth in irritation. “Wonderful. Cricket, go tell the Mother that her wayward son has dropped by for a visit.” 

The younger female looked confused, her fur flattening as she hesitated. “Uh, okay Raven.” She glanced at both of them once more, but scurried away as Raven had suggested.

Sky took this as an invitation to step forward. When he did he caught the female's scent. “Oh, congratulations, I hope your little ones are doing well.”

This earned him a withering glare. “You should know better than anyone how much that is not your business. How's Shiloh? I see she hasn't accompanied you.” Her tail could have hurt him from how vehemently it lashed.”Worried she would finally come to her senses and leave you once she saw a sensible and civilized living situation?”

“Her kits are due in a half moons time. She's started a nest already in a quiet little place.” He mewed. “I've just come to see how mother is getting along.”

Raven narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “Mind you don't lead any others astray, or I'll personally drive you out with your tail between your legs like a dog.”

A shudder passed through Sky's fur and he simply mumbled “Yes ma'am,” and followed her towards the courtyard.

He was always immensely impressed at how his mother ran things. She only had about six or seven queens and a few young adults, but there was always someone hunting, always someone watching the kits. She took turns doing both herself, though she most often cared for kits. In fact when he entered the courtyard she was entertaining three of them, who were between the ages of  two to four moons, weaned but not independent.

A queen sunned herself in the corner of the courtyard, the brown tabby lazily opening her eyes every once in while in the direction of the kits before the Mother. The tang of milk and nursing mothers hung in the air, but he didn't even so much as twitch in that direction. They would have torn him to shreds if he had.

As he approached her the kits scampered back to their mother, clamoring about how one had caught a ladybug and it tasted yucky. Before him, The Mother stretched, the blue of her fur almost the exact same shade as his, but speckled and brindled with cream and patches of white  on her paws and chin.

“Ah Sky, back again? Most of my sons have moved on to a new place. It almost seems as if you are stuck in the past darling.” The words were smooth, gentle, but a warning. Four visits from a kit long grown was a bit excessive.

“I thought you should know that Shiloh is doing quite well. She will kit soon enough,” he said quickly, trying to fill the void her stare had left.

 The  lovely pale queen stretched again, this time unsheathing her claws. “Oh? I hope you make sure to treat her and those kits well. She would be within her rights to mark you if you didn't.”

This was getting out of paw. “I just came because I w-wanted to see if you have any kits who are going to be leaving soon. I'm… rebuilding Skyclan, like Gramma Rain used to talk about.” He stumbled over his quick words.

As abruptly as the sense of menace had appeared, it was gone replaced with amusement and incredulity as his mother rumbled a loud laughing purr. “My dear kit,” he ignored the insult, “Those stories are ancient, from your Grammas mother. I know you are fond of stories, but you have a mate and kits to care for now. Time to get your head out of the clouds, Sky.” She turned as if in dismissal but he held his ground. 

“Please! Just… let me talk to some of the older kits, the ones who will be leaving soon. They don't have to join me, but I can at least give them an option.” 

There was a moment of silence, in which he could almost feel Ravens claws sinking into his back to drag him away. But before she could, the Mother sighed. “Very well… I never could deny my eldest son. And it seems you may have found an interested party after all.” She waved her plumed tail at two young cats who had appeared from behind a building nearby. One male and one female. It was the shecat who approached.

Her dappled gray pelt marked him as kit to one of his sisters, similar in shade to his own. “I'm Ash. I heard what you said. You're looking for cats? Will you take my brother and I? We would rather not be separated.”

Indeed the cream tom she indicated looked very uncomfortable and uncertain, though he gave Sky a friendly twitch of the whispers and a warm blink. 

Ash addressed him again. “I'm not quite sure what a clan is, I've only heard some of the stories. But if it's like a clowder where both toms and shecats can be together without harming each other. We'd be glad to do so.”

Sky was so surprised he kind of stared at her in shock before babbling an affirmative. “Of course! Yes! Sure! We can get you a nest and then we can teach you to hunt and fight and--”

“Good,” The Mother’s quiet voice cut through Sky’s words like a tooth through a mouse’s neck. “Now that that is settled you can be on your way. Ash, Barley, let your mother know, and then our blessings be with you.” She turned away with an air of finality that sent an odd shiver down Sky's spine.

It was only later, as he was halfway home and chattering to the two young cats, getting to know them and talk to them, that he realized he had forgotten one of his main goals in speaking to his mother. He still wasn't quite sure how clan names worked, or how clans were structured. Oh well, he would just have to bumble it on his own somehow.

[cyberwavelit]

Gamer's Debt (Short Story)

"Crap, all I wanted was the gold chest so I can buy some extra lives. If I don't get any more extra lives, I'll lose all my gold when I die. How am I supposed to win if I have to pay for every damn thing?" Joden stepped down the ramp of his Blourgan cruiser and surveyed the alien landscape. It was barren except for the remains of a small village that he had just annihilated with a two-ton necro-missile.

"That's life. People are generally selfish, impatient, and insecure. Game companies use these weaknesses to motivate players. Maybe you shouldn't have blown up the village, is all I'm saying." The pilot of the cruiser, Jershamalama, spoke through his comm.

"But how does anyone get the hell out of this game if they can never win? I've been stuck in this hell hole for thirty days! My body’s back in the real world, rotting away.”

"Hey, you wanted to play, didn't you? Maybe if we travel to a non-npc sector we can trade off some of this junk we get every time we kill an enemy.” His pilot stared at him from the cockpit.

Joden looked back, “I feel like a slave. That garbage is only worth a pinto cent. It’ll take decades to get to the end game. And besides, that's if we can take off with all that junk. It'll take us a few hours to get back into the atmosphere. It's like a Fetch-22."

"You mean a fetch quest?"

"Yeah, something like that." said Joden taking out his cent-o-meter. It consumed his health bar as it scanned the surrounding sector. His eyes darted around his visor interface, looking at all the blips and bubbles that pinged. “I wish I could afford the Super Hyper Gold Jetpack that all the booster players use.”

“They only release that on the first Wednesday of every other month with a sign-on fee, an option to buy stocks in EternaEntertinament, a monthly fee, a mental evaluation, and maintenance fees when your able to grab it from one of the random places it spawns, like the Hell planet Infernum or the planet Madness Descent. Plus, I hear they only give you like a 3 second jump.”

“What?!” He nearly tripped over a crumpled alien body. “You can’t be serious. My mom’s going to kill me. I told her I was going to school. I figured I could just sign up for a few games, try my hand at Galactic Teamslayer, and be back at the rent-a-plex by nine. That was a month ago!”

“Relax. They won’t even notice you’re gone. Most parents have been sucked into this new thing called Binge Child Raising. EternaEntertinament created it too. It’s a simulation where adults can raise children and not have them become reclusive, angst-ridden failures. They’re really gouging everyone for money, real and fake, young and old.”

Joden was too focused on the horizon where a few blips were going off. They were purple, which meant that they were low-value targets. Everything seemed to be purple. “I never asked--how long you been here?”

“You shoulda seen it when it was it first came out. The servers would never load and you had to sit there, in the darkness, watching a timer run out as they patched their simulation. It was like holding your breath under water.” The pilot sucked his teeth. “Hang on a sec. Have to rate the game again—after this ad.”

“Yeah, I hate doing this every hour.” The astronaut picked up a child’s toy from the clutched hand of a sloblarian. “Wonder what this is worth. I heard that we used to play with things like this, not just video games where you pay to win. Up, hang on a sec, got an ad playing.”

Joden’s reality changed. He was sitting on a park bench. A duck came up to him, honking and pulling at his pants. The countdown to the end of the ad appeared in his peripheral. It quaked and quaked until Joden threw down a few coins to skip it.

Back in game world he was still holding the toy. He threw it down with distain and a lack of remembrance for such physical trifles.

He was then asked to rate the game. He voted as he always had, giving it a one-star out of three. There was a chime and a message: “We’re sorry you’re not enjoying your time in our game world. Perhaps if you were more openminded and understanding of the fact that you may not always get what you want, you might have a better experience with our merchandise. Please lower your expectations. Thank you.”

Joden coughed to drown out the message he had heard a hundred times. “I’m so tired of game companies stealing from us. Don’t they realize that it’ll only make the game suffer?”

“Yeah,” responded the pilot, “let’s go steal something.”

“I’m so tired, Jersh. I just want to go somewhere where we can kill an alien race and grind their bones into dust. What’s so wrong with that?”

“If you only knew, kid. On its launch the game world wasn’t even finished. Eterna used the gamers to construct most of the planets using the build-and-play incentive. Those gamers signed a contract that said that they had to make at least four hundred ‘products’ before they could actually the game. They called it the ‘fix-it-later’ release. The products they were referring to was one galaxy. Those designer gamers are probably still waiting…”

“Four hund--?” Joden held up his fist to the pilot, who had been watching from the ship’s windshield. “That’s extortion!”

“Welcome to the world. They get away with it because it’s a game world. You can do anything in the game world like gambling, murder, blackmail, forced labor, and forced sodomy. Nothing’s real so nothing matters.”

The astronaut had disembarked about five hundred meters from the ship. Steam bellowed from its worn exhaust. “Why did you call me kid? How old are you? I mean I know you have the same avatar as me…”

“Age doesn’t matter either. Yeah, I couldn’t afford the customizations either.” Jersh tapped his helmet. “So, I guess we both have the same face.”

“And same weapons, gear, armor, boots, ships, weapon skins, and abilities.” He noticed a large oval blob on his visor’s HUD. It was moving closer behind a small series of stone pillars.

“Oh no, I have the blue-skinned Rigormortis rifle. It’s got this badass blue stripe on the side. Cost me 20,000 gold, 200 platinum, and 4 of my lifesaving’s accounts. If I didn’t have this stripe, I’d probably go insane or worse, color blind.”

“Shut up, dude. Something’s coming. I think it’s a surviving sloblarian. I hear they get angro really quick. I don’t want to die here, man. I never bought a 600-gold resurrection pack. It’ll take sixty days to load back in…”

Jersh responded, sounding distracted, “You’re fine. Just cap it in the head or something.”

The purple blob was twenty meters away. If it wanted to attack it would have to come out into the open and charge him. He could tell there was movement but it was more restless than threatening. Joden took out his rifle and fired at the rock tower. The gun exploded in his hands, sending his obliterated fingers in multiple directions.

“Ah damnit! I forgot about the maintenance fee!”

The figure bounded from the pillar and slunk slowly towards the enemy astronaut. It skulked across the yellow, Phallusian sand with its omni-dexterous flippers. Arriving to the hunched-over human its tugged at his spacesuit and motioned for him to come closer.

“Gross dude, it wants to talk to me. What should I do?” The rounded head bobbed up and down like a rubbery ball. It seemed to be injured or at least miserable.

Joden heard distinct crunching noises emanating from the pilot’s mouth. “IDK. Step on it I guess.”

The polymorphous blob at his feet opened its crevice-like mouth and appeared to gasp for air. But it wasn’t gasping. It was whispering. He leaned down and listened.

“Dunk…prrray…Donk pppreeeey.” It was saying, and gargled as its lips flapped. “Doooonnk plllaaaaay. Chooose nut to pprraaaaay. Fyind sumting essl to do wilth yourg tyhme.”

“Oh, hell no!” shouted the man, as he squashed the creature’s face with his boot. It was like stepping on a water balloon filled with pebbles. He looked at where his hands used to be and screamed into the sky. “What does it all mean? Why do I always have to be punished! I’ve been in the same place for too long!”

"It's not good to live in a dream.” More crunching came from the ship. “You sometimes forget what life is like."

Virtual blood splashed onto the dry dirt from his nubs. A few splatters mixed with the alien’s internal fluids. The reflective pool at his feet showed his avatar’s face, the same face of his pilots. He searched rapidly for any signs of wealth or material possession. There was nothing but ooze and viscera. Tattered cloth around the dead alien’s head was smushed and torn.  

He turned toward the ship with a look of bewilderment. “How many gamers are trapped here? We can’t be the only ones. This game isn’t anything like what they advertised. They lied to us! Who would want to be stuck in this perpetual nightmare of pay-to-play, pay-to-build, pay-to-live, pay-to-pay mechanics?”

“I don’t think you get it.” The pilot was still eating. “Companies do this to consumers because consumers let them. The general belief is that consumers are very smart but when’s the last time you heard someone say: ‘I won’t buy that because it goes against my code of ethics?’ None, no one’s ever said that. People like spending money. It’s in our blood. Its our nature to trust rich people. They seem to have all the right answers even when they don’t. They make the truths that we all follow. Besides, how could they get all that money if they had bad intentions.”

Joden used his character’s remaining strength to rush back towards the Blourgan cruiser. He felt a draft of air coming in the direction of the ship, and heard the engine roaring to life. “What the hell are you doing?”

The mercenary vessel hovered three feet off the ground and its nose pointed at the runner. Its pilot could be seen through the windshield, “Sorry newb, you’re becoming to be a real downer.”

“I thought you were my friend!” he whimpered, his nubs heaving back and forth.

The ship elevated to ten feet. “None of us are really friends. We’re all just trying to make a living. And I need one more kill for the Slayer Award. We’re all just numbers.”

As he came to the plateau where he had disembarked, he held up his invisible hands to shield his face. “I just want to go home! I just want to go home.”

A cybersonic laser beam burst from the cruiser’s forward cannons. He felt the hot bathing light of the beam and then felt nothing at all.

“I can’t get out…I can’t…” He awoke in darkness. A screen appeared that read the same message he received hundreds of times, “You have died. Looks like you have low gear and feeble weapons. Would you like to buy a booster pack?”

“No.” he responded.

“A looter box?”

“No!”

He said the same words over and over before. The message continued, “You have elected to refuse game-provided assistance. This is a poor decision. In order to continue gameplay without using game-provided assistance please insert thirty-seven-point-one resurrection tokens.”

He wanted to cry but said, “I don’t have any.”

The automated voice paused and spoke again after popping up a sixty-page form. “Well that sucks. In order to continue please complete the loan agreement in front of you. The loan is for $6,000. Sign here, here, and here.”

Joden lowered his shoulders and looked at his current debt. It read: “-387,000.” He breathed out, collapsing his chest, and grew red-faced. “No!” he shouted.  

There was another pause and the form disappeared. For several moments there was darkness and silence. “Very well.” The automated voice returned. “You have chosen reincarnation. Goodbye.”

“No!” he screamed defiantly. “No!”

Then, all of a sudden, he felt strange. He looked out through oddly-colored eyes. His hands had returned but they had three fingers instead of five. When he tried to speak, he could only gasp through what felt like a straw. The sand that he walked on grew hardened in his webbed feet. An alien girl danced toward him, carrying a toy. She hugged him with pencil-thin arms and turned towards the sky. Tattered robes fell along his arm and he patted the girl’s head. He looked up, to where the girl was gazing and saw a massive fireball break through the atmosphere. A necro-missile came out of the fiery plume, heading straight for their small, stony village. 

[kairi-chan]

Hellooo... so uhhh... do you ship ot3 BoruSaraMitsu? If you do, do you have a small fic for this particular shipper's heart and desires? I'm just really curious tho sorry in advance. Thank you veryyy much for reading this humble ask :D

Title: Fairy Tales

Rating: K

Genre: Friendship / Humor

Beta read by: @sandpancakecat

A/N: Not shippy as you have expected, darling. Definitely not small also, at 3,574 words. But definitely fluffy and funny friendship shenanigans. 

Dedicated to the people who always screamat me for not sleeping, eating, and taking care of myself. Thank you for alwaysbeing there for me and coming to my aid. It’s been a bad week for us, but we always stay present for each other and I’m so thankful for that. I’ve been writing this fic for nearly 2 weeks, all for you @shikastemari @lazymilkshakecolor @double–u :) 

Genin babies!

—

He tookin a ragged breath and gripped on tighter to his sword. The knight’s blond hairstuck on to his forehead, as sweat ran down his temples. The sight before himseemed akin to a nightmare. The tall grey walls were in shambles, and brightorange flames licked at the torn crests and flags, bearing the sigil of hishouse. He could not believe his eyes. As a boy, he thought his home to beimpregnable, but now, it was all starting to crumble and break, much like hisheart and spirits.

Theknight swallowed, seeking relief from a thirst he hadn’t noticed, but his mouthwas dry, and he found no reprieve. Hesitantly, he took a step forward, hisboots crunching the gravel under his feet. He did not want to look down, as hefeared he may see someone he knew lifeless on the ground. There was one personon his mind who he wished to see–to save–and hoped with all his heart thatthey were okay.

“Myprincess…” he uttered.

Sarada leaned in closer, her nose nearlybrushing the page as she continued to read. She was finally getting to the good parts! The slight romance in the bookwas well written, but far too slow paced. And the dilemma the knight had justdidn’t seem strong enough to drive the kind of character development that heneeded. The dragon’s story was interesting enough, and she liked the hint ofmagic that was sprinkled around the plot.

Unconsciously, she pushed her glasses back upthe bridge of her nose and forced herself to zone out the rest of theworld–meaning her two teammates who were playing soccer outside in herbackyard. They had finished training with Konohamaru fairly early, and Mitsukiand Boruto wanted to wait for Sasuke and Sakura to come home for more training.As for Sarada, she had been training well before the sun was up and wanted to usethis time to relax. Due to their time spent together, Sarada learned how totolerate Boruto and Mitsuki’s loud roughhousing.

For a moment, she looked outside the windowand spotted the two boys having fun, kicking a ball back and forth. It seemedthey were really getting into it, as she could sense with every round, theywere pumping more and more chakra to their legs. She shook her head from sideto side disapprovingly, making a bet to herself that someone was bound to gethurt if they get too carried away.

“Boys…” she muttered and then shrugged. Sheshifted her position on the couch in such a way that she faced the open windowa little more, in order to catch the cool spring breeze coming through. Shesmiled to herself and appreciated how the odds seemed to have been in her favorto read today.

Theknight lifted his gaze to the tower, to see a light shining within. Hopesparked within his heart, sending a wave of bravery and adrenaline through hisbody. He lifted his sword and his shield, preparing himself for anything as hedared to open the tall wooden door. What lay behind could have been anything.Looters? Bandits? The evil mage who created the dragons, or it worse–it couldhave been the beast itself.

The doorcreaked and echoed as the knight pushed it open, cautious for anything thatmight come to attack. The hall was dark, but the smell of burnt flesh and smokefilled his nostrils, unsettling him with every step he took. All his senseswere in overdrive. Despite the dying flames at the corners of the room, he feltcold and heard the sound of dripping water.

Howstrange… the knight thought.

A lowrumble started to echo, and slowly got louder and louder to a roar until itshook the ground, his body, and his resolve. Out of the white smoke, a pair ofbright yellow eyes revealed itself, and a forked tongue came forward, followedby a hiss.

Was thisthe same beast? The blood-curdling roar earlier seemed like it came from anotherworldly creature, but what presented itself before him was a largeserpentine creature with yellow eyes and white scales. It looked majestic bututterly villainous.

For amoment, the knight felt his knees shake before the creature. He wanted to runand save himself. However, before he could, the images of his princess flashedbefore his memory. Her sweet smile, and melodious laugh. With one, raggedbreath, he stilled himself and made a decision. He was going to fight, not onlyfor her but for his whole clan. His father, mother, sister…

Theknight gritted his teeth. He would do this—go all out for them. He couldn’t letthem down! Wordlessly, he widened his stance, raised his shield to cover hisbody, and lifted his eyes as well as his sword towards the beast. With one bigbreath, he opened his mouth and yelled as he ran towards the beast.

“AAAAAAAH!”

“SARADAAAAAA!”

“Huh?” The next thing she knew, the soccerball hit her right between the eyes and knocked her off the sofa.

.

.

.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Sarada’s head hurt, and there was a burningsensation on her forehead.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, yaknow?”

The noise was making her head hurt even more.Her brows knitted together and her mouth twisted as she tried to open her eyes.

A different voice floated towards her, calmer,this time. “Sarada, can you hear me?”

She grumbled out something incoherent as shetried to sit up and open her eyes. Her world was a blur, and it took her awhile to realize that she wasn’t wearing her glasses as she rubbed at her eyes.Before her, there were two blobs of color. One was blond, black and pink, theother blue and white. “Where are my glasses?”

No one responded for a few seconds andstarted to feel a little annoyed. “Do I really have to look for them myself?”

“Well… umm…” Boruto had a hard time speaking,for some reason.

Mitsuki lifted her palms up in the air andplaced down to plastic items on it. She didn’t need to have perfect vision toknow what was in her hands. Her glasses were snapped in half, the glass crackedand a chunk was missing. Her vision went from blurry blobs of color to nothingbut red.

Justgreat!

She let out a shout of frustration. “I’m goingto kill you!”

“I said I was sorry!” Boruto jumped up to his feet, genuinely afraid for hislife. Sarada with perfect vision was one thing, but a blind one? She could go on crushing and making craters aimlesslyand still harm her target. “I didn’tmean it I swear!”

She sniffed, and Boruto stopped yelling. Helooked down at her and felt horrible. It looked like she was going to cry. Hehated it when she cried.

Her hands were up, hiding her face. “I wasjust getting to the good parts…”

Mitsuki looked around and found a discardedbook on the floor. He flipped it open and scanned the page. “Were you readingthis?”

She didn’t look his way but she nodded herhead.

“What part were you in?” Mitsuki asked.

“Just when the knight was about to attack thedragon.”

“A knight?”Boruto’s voice lifted and his eyes lit up.

“Dragon?” Mitsuki gave Boruto a look and asmile grew on his face.

The blond boy grinned cheekily and nodded.Without a word, the two boys hoisted Sarada up and sat her back down on thesofa. She protested, but her complaints fell on deaf ears.

“Just sit down, we’ll read the rest out toyou, okay?” Boruto grinned and sat down on the center table, facing her.

Mitsuki nodded and sat down next to Boruto. Heopened the page and found where Sarada had left off. “We’ll take turns.”

“I’ll read out the knight’s parts!” Heannounced valiantly.

“And I the dragon.”Mitsuki’s emphasis on the last word sent chills down Sarada’s back. It was toofitting.

“Okay, fine.” She pouted. “But don’t thinkthis will make me forget that you kicked a ball at my face!”

“Alright, alright.” Boruto grinned. “I’ll buyyou an iced caramel macchiato later, okay?”

Sarada grinned victoriously and hugged apillow to her chest, wishing the throbbing on her forehead would stop. It wasdifferent reading the book herself, but she thought having it read out loudwould be fun, too. Like listening to an audiobook.

Boruto cleared his throat and tried to alterhis voice to go deeper, giving it a more dramatic flair. “The knight ranforward, wielding his weapon at the dragon. The beast snarled and lungedforward, trying to crush the knight. But he dodged and took the opportunity tostrike the beast, but was far too quick!”

Mitsuki took the book and read, “Theserpent-like creature slithered farther, gauging the knight from a distance.Perhaps it had slain a lot of warriors, but never was he faced with such avaliant foe. His forked tongue came darting out, and a low hissssing sound started to fill the hall.”

He then handed the book over to Boruto whogrinned, “You’re pretty good at this, Mitsuki!”

The boy grinned, and was about to respond butwas hushed by Sarada who demanded they stop chatting and keep reading. Borutopouted, and held one side of the book, letting Mitsuki hold the other side.They scootched closer together, and Boruto resumed his reading.

“The knight shook, feeling the fear creep upto chest once again but he stood firm!”Boruto jumped up and held his fist up in the air, pretending to be holding asword. “He raised his sword and resolve filled his blue eyes. I will not lose!” He ran into thekitchen and a few pots and pans crashed together, as he spoke. “I will do thisfor my family!” More clattering happened in the kitchen and Sarada and Mitsukitried to take a look at what he was doing.

“What are you doing?” Sarada demanded, but shegot no response from Boruto. 

Boruto came running back into the living room,a pasta strainer on his head, one hand holding on to a ladle and his other handgripped a pot cover, using it as a shield.

Mitsuki grinned and approached him, taking thebook from his clumsy hold, as he tried to balance it out with the ladle. Hetook in Boruto’s appearance once more and read from the book aloud, “The dragonstood taller,” as he read, Mitsuki’s posture straightened, and slowly, hislimbs started to elongate and his voice got deeper, “Hissssssing its tongue out at the knight, yellow eyes glinted withmalice and challenge.”

The two boys stood facing each other for a fewseconds, pausing for dramatic flair. The top of Mitsuki’s head was nearlytouching the ceiling, and Boruto’s eyes shone with determination, fullyabsorbing the role of the knight. He held up the lid to cover his chest andlifted the ladle overhead, poised to strike.

“Do your worse, you foul beast!” Boruto wasadlibbing now, as Mitsuki had dropped the book to the ground. The boys werereally getting into their role play, completely forgetting that they weresupposed to be reading it out to Sarada.

“AAAAAAAAAH!” Boruto shouted and ran towardsMitsuki, swinging the ladle from side to side. Mitsuki evaded his strikes withfluid, serpentine motions. He struck back, extending his arm and a pair ofwhite snakes flew out of his sleeve.

Boruto rolled to the right to dodge, legshitting the side table, knocking over some of the frames. The lampshade shookand the glass tingled as the table wobbled.

“What are you doing?” Sarada shrieked. Perhapsthe boys forgot, she may have been blind without her glasses, but she certainlywasn’t deaf. The ruckus they were making inside her home was starting to makeher panic. Her Mama and Papa would be home any minute! What would they say ifthe place was a mess? She tried to stand from the couch but fell back on thethrow pillows as Mitsuki darted for Boruto, knocking her over.

“You’ll pay for all of this, Dragon!” Borutoshouted. He pumped chakra to hisfeet as he planned to launch himself at Mitsuki as the final blow.

Mitsuki coiled in on himself, looking atstriking Boruto head on, as well.

They stared each other down, and then, struck.    

.

.

.

Sasuke and Sakura approached their home,carrying bags full of grocery for dinner. Their conversation was cut when theyheard something crash and break inside.

“What was that?” Concern shone in her eyes.

He opened his mouth to share his inference ashe opened the door but was cut off yet again when a loud shout and anothercrash echoed. It sounded like…

“Oh my god.” Sakura dropped the bags on thefloor, hurriedly removed her shoes and rushed inside.

The scene before her was horrible. Her livingroom was in ruins. The picture frames were all over the floor, knocked off thetables. The rug was in disarray and some of the throw pillows had been cutopen, the white stuffing bursting through. The lampshade lay forgotten on thefloor, a crack on the shade and the bulb.

“What happened?” She demanded.

Mitsuki had his serpents wound around Boruto’smidsection, holding his left arm down while his right hand held the ladle up.It clunked on the ground as soon as he saw Sakura. Sarada, on the other hand,was on the floor, groping around for what Sakura guessed were her brokenglasses to her left.

“Mama?” Sarada looked her way and squinted.

“H-hey there… Auntie Sakura… Y-you’re lookingas pretty as always, ya know?” Boruto laughed nervously.

The vein in her forehead throbbed. If Borutothought that he was going to get away with this by flattering her, he waswrong. Sakura was usually very kind and patient to the genins, but ruining herliving room was seriously pushing it.

“Sakura.” Her husband stood beside her,looking her way first, before slowly scanning the living room. If Sasuke wasshocked, he showed no signs of it on his face. His dark gaze landed on hisstudent and Mitsuki, looking at them from head to toe, and then back up again.Sasuke quirked a brow up, wordlessly commanding the boys to explain themselves.

Mitsuki retracted his snakes, setting Borutoback on his feet, the pasta strainer fell from his head, clattering down on thefloor. The loud sound made Boruto ground his teeth, bracing himself as well forthe scolding he was going to receive. Sasuke beating him at training was badenough, but Auntie Sakura’s scolding was legendary.

Sakura placed her hands on her hips “Well?”

Mitsuki was usually blissfully unaware aboutthings like these, but the hard look in Sakura’s eyes was enough to make himrealize they were in trouble.

The living room was silent, but oddly enough,it wasn’t the boys with their explaining that cut through, it was Sarada’svoice.

“Mama, Papa…” her voice was small andapologetic. “Boruto and Mitsuki were helping me.”

“Helping you?” Sakura echoed. “With what?”

“Reading my book…” Sarada explained. “You see…umm…” she opened her palms and revealed to them her broken glasses. “I wasalready at the good parts, and I just wanted to know what happened next soBoruto and Mitsuki decided to read it to me.”

Sakura pursed her lips. She wasn’t exactlyconvinced, and there was also the topic of how her glasses broke in the firstplace. Her instinct was to scold the three of them, but the way her daughterlooked so apologetic and Boruto looked like a struck puppy, made her lose herresolve. She sighed. “What am I going to do with the three of you?” A smallsmile on her face.

Sasuke smirked. “The two boys will clean upthis mess, of course.”

Mitsuki and Boruto looked at him,disbelievingly. Was that it? This was their only punishment?

“And then do laps around the Uchiha groundsuntil they can no longer run,” Sasuke added.

Boruto groaned but was relieved that was allthe punishment they were going to receive.

“Perhaps you should take Sarada to get a newpair of glasses, darling.” Sakura turned to him. “I’ll stay here and watch theboys.”

Sasuke smirked. “Aa.”

Father and daughter set out to the clinic,with Sasuke holding on to Sarada’s hand, carefully guiding her so she won’ttrip. Sakura, Mitsuki, and Boruto stayed behind, trying to salvage what theycould.

Sakura stood and gave a sermon as the two boysswept and segregated the broken pieces of decor and furniture. Mitsuki seemedto have taken it better, not saying a word, but Boruto kept a stubbornexpression on his face, his lower lip jutting out.

“Do you have something to say, Boruto?” Sakuraasked. Her tone wasn’t harsh, or cold, not even the usual reprimanding tonemothers take on. It was light, but it was clear as day that she wasn’t messingaround, either.

He stopped sweeping but his head still hunglow. Slowly, he looked at her. That stubborn look on his face was slowlystarting to melt and his lower lip shook.

The poor boy really was sorry, she could seethat. But she also wanted to hear something else from him.

“I didn’t mean to, auntie Sakura.” The way hisvoice cracked made her see him in another light, and she felt like she waslooking at his younger self, back when he was a toddler and covered in mud,scolded at for coming into the kitchen and getting the floor dirty. Sakura’sface softened, she really didn’t have the heart to stay angry at him.

“I’m sorry, we got carried away…” he loweredhis gaze, too embarrassed to keep looking at her.

Mitsuki silently watched the exchange. Hecontemplated if he should apologize as well but decided to wait for Sakura’sresponse first.

“I know you didn’t mean it, Boruto.” Sakurasmiled. “And I’m not angry. I just wanted to hear you apologize.”

Boruto snapped his gaze at her, tears poolingat the corner of his eyes, a smile slowly forming on his face.

Sakura grinned at him and then smirked. “Butdon’t think Hinata isn’t going to hear about this.”

That smile on Boruto’s face melted and wasreplaced by a look of horror. Not even all the gods in the sky could save himfrom his mother’s wrath.

.

.

.

Sarada came back home with her father, wearinga pair of temporary glasses until Karin could send her a new pair. She wasworried the entire time that her Mama might have been too hard on herteammates. Sarada felt sorry for them, even if this was technically theirfault. They were only trying to help.

“Don’t worry, Sarada,” Sasuke comforted her.“Sakura’s scary but she has a kind heart.”

She giggled at that, although she knew deepdown it was true.

Once they reached home, she could smell foodand heard lively chatter. Mitsuki was setting the table, and Boruto wasbringing the dishes over to the table.

“Welcome home,” Mitsuki greeted them both.

“Just in time!” Sakura grinned. “Dinner isready.”

The five of them sat down and enjoyed theirmeal. Her papa was right, Sarada had nothing to worry about. Boruto alsowhispered to her that her mama was scary, but he was relieved that she let themoff the hook.

“I’m in for it when I get home, though.”Boruto groaned, making Sarada and Mitsuki laugh.

After they had finished dinner, the three ofthem went back to the living room, Boruto and Mitsuki promised they would readto her, and they did.

Althoughthe knight did not slay the dragon, he was able to take the princess andescape. For now, he would consider this as a success, as he did not lose sightof what was more important—the precious people in his life. He could slay thedragon another day, but he would not risk the life of his love for his prideand revenge.

“Sounds like he has his priorities right,”Mitsuki commented.

“He’s not dumb, unlike most main characters,”Sarada agreed.

“Are you kidding?” Boruto was so shocked histeammates would say that. “If he just went straight for the heart he could havedone both!”

“And risk knocking the tower over? Theprincess would have died!” Sarada argued.

The two of them bickered on a little more,with Mitsuki smiling, enjoying their banter, as per usual.

Sasuke and Sakura listened in the kitchen, asthey enjoyed a cup of tea. They looked at each other with soft gazes, genuinelyhappy that their daughter has made very good friends.

“Kind of reminds me us three, don’t youthink?” Sakura smiled.

Sasuke took a sip of his tea, hiding a smallsmile on his lips. “Aa.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! 

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