#it cold be just a little blink-and-you-miss-it continuity error

[pynkhues]

(x)

Oh my gosh, okay okay okay, anon, I've had a few wines after a friend popped by unexpectedly, sorry in advance, but she's gone now so hear me out, haha. I'm putting my crime scene investigations hat on and I can tell you after watching the scene *mumbles indecipherably* times, Lestat has at least two visible bites in the scene on his throat, not one. We all tend to look at the one on the left, but he actually has one lower on the right too.

I feel like I'm presenting evidence in a court of law right now, haha, but I've lightened the cap a bit, so hopefully you can see the one we're all normally talking about on the left here, but then, on the right, you get a hint of blood? (And you can actuall see it in that gifset too)

And when he tilts his head towards Claudia, oh! There it is! Second bite:

Which brings me back to the scene itself, and I hear you, I think maybe it was meant to be the upper left bite scarring there, BUT I'll also counter with the very fun (to me, haha) argument that the first bite we saw through the window was actually a different bite entirely given Louis seemed to go for the join of Lestat's neck and shoulder, which in the aftermath scene, would be covered by his shirt.

In other words, I think Louis bit him more than once, and I want to have been a fly on the wall in the make up team's meeting as they decided when and where to place the bites / bruises / wounding.

But anyway, YES, I love on soooo many levels that the show broadcasts that they have insane sex in Lestat's lover's house, probably break her bed, given the bruising, only for Louis to immediately take Lestat home and declare it's time, after five years, for a family meeting? Deranged behaviour! And he's there smelling at the very least like the Mississippi River and clearly glowed up from vampire / soulmate blood after years recovering on a strict animal diet, and Lestat's there looking well fucked and fed on, and their daughter is forced to just sit there and act like this is Completely Fine. A resentment probably aggravated by the fact that we know Louis threw Lestat's coffin out the window, so presumably they're sharing one tonight! She deserved to murder them both so many times over, but honestly never more so than this night!

[weirdversethestrange]

(Well, saw the vote for the stories, both ones shots are tied. So I’ll be making stories for both. First up, Nova and Polterglitch. The story continues below)

Starry Memories

The swampy grounds of SwapFell’s Waterfall was always a little uncomfortable. It was always either too cold or too unstable to really stand on properly. Some areas were so dark that the only thing that one could really see was the echo flowers rooted in the ground or the crystals in the ceiling acting as faux stars for the monsters who were trapped under the mountain. For any other universe, this would have been normal, what was different though was the fact that two glitched skeletons were currently staying in the purple marshlands.

Nova leans against the wall of what was once a portal. It had been several days since the events of the multiverse attacking him and getting separated from 404. It was hard for him, losing a friend like that. He had already lost Error due to the strings of Fate and now 404 to the grasps of the multiverse. What scared him the most was the fact that while fighting, he could hear the whispers of Fate. That damn higher being was encouraging him…encouraging him to hurt the au’s. His mind was going into a spiral the more he thought about this…just how easily he lost control of his actions due to his anger.

“Nova.” Called out a familiar ghostly voice. This broke Nova from his thoughts, he looks over to the ghostly Error Sans he had brought along on his quest to avenge said ghost. Nova blinks a few times and shakes his skull as he leans back against the wall again, a small sigh escaping from his mouth through closed teeth.

“Sorry Error, I was just thinking”

“I would assume so. You always get a certain expression when you’re deep in thought. Like…an angry bunny.” Nova would cross his arms a little at hearing that comment from Polterglitch. His star shaped eyelights flicker in slight annoyance as the ghostly skeleton looks down at him. He could tell Polterglitch was trying to make him feel a little at ease despite the situation.

“I do not. How dare you compare me to a bunny.” Polterglitch would chuckle slightly. He knew that something was on Nova’s mind that was bothering him. He didn’t want Nova feeling that way. That would only lead Nightmare to their location just by negative feelings alone. But…he also had to be careful with how positivity was handled as well with Dream now being an enemy as well. Damn squid was using his friends to go after them. He gives a soft smile and puts a hand on Nova’s right shoulder. He had gotten use to Outer or well Nova enough before hand that felt comfortable enough to touch and hold the other skeleton or let the other hold him.

“What? Would you prefer if I called you a marshmallow instead? Little star candy?” Polterglitch said playfully. He knew that his teasing was working to get Nova’s mind off of the situation as the smaller skeleton seems to get a tad flustered by this. This would earn Polterglitch a glare from the starry skeleton, small star shaped glitches appearing around the smaller one, usually only occurs if an emotion was coming in strongly.

“You’re about to get a face full of your own scarf, Strings.” Nova commented as he gives the scarf around his neck a playful tug, causing the ghostly glitch to grunt a little bit at feeling the tug on the object keeping him earthbound. Polterglitch would look at Nova with a small smile seeing the other huff and chuckle a little. Good, he was helping his partner feel better a little. The skeleton ghost sits down next to Nova and leans on him a bit.

“Been a while since ya called me Strings. Kinda missed it, ya know? Should I start calling you Star again or should I save that for…something else?” Polterglitch asked as he glances over to Nova as the other fiddles with the scarf. Nova would think for a moment. Has it really been that long since he last called Polterglitch by that nickname?

“I guess we can save them for like…code names or something? Ya know, like how we use to anytime you were visiting Outertale and another AU was visiting. Heh, remember all the excuses I used to get a signal to you that someone was there and you needed to hide? Stars what was one…?”

“Hmmm…’I need to tie my shoe strings.’ was one. Another was ohhhh ‘My jacket’s drawstrings are uneven.’ Yeah, I memorized a lot of them, Star.” The skeleton ghost would say with a huff. He did not miss those days…always feeling on edge at being caught and Outer being in constant danger of being called a “multiverse traitor” all because he actually would listen to what the destroyer had to say and giving him a place to stay. He could tell Nova didn’t miss that aspect of the past…but…he could tell he missed being well…Outer.

Polterglitch would soon lay down in the grass and look up at the crystal filled ceiling. Nova would look down at the ghost next to him before laying down besides him. The feeling of wet grass wasn’t ideal, but it’s better than something like rocks or a ground full of attacks. Nova would look up at the ceiling, the sparkling gems catching his eye sockets. It would remind the space dwelling skeleton of home, but…he knew they were just rocks in a stone cage.

“I…do miss home a lot. I kinda forget that my home has the luxury of actual stars in the sky.”

“You home is very lucky to have that. Most universes don’t. It’s one of the reasons why I visited your home in the first place. And then the stars lead me to you.” Nova would smile a little at this as he looks at Polterglitch and then back up to the ceiling. Polterglitch would smile as he looks at the ceiling alongside his partner. He would then speak up.

“Don’t worry…we’ll make it home. You’ll be able to see the stars again and Fate won’t be able to bother us.”

“I know…Thank you, Error…” Polterglitch would nod as he looks up and then scoots a little closer to Nova, he slowly moves his hand closer to Nova’s hand with a little bit of hesitance before finally grabbing the other’s hand and intertwining his phalanges with Nova’s. He squeezes the smaller skeleton’s hand to reassure that everything will be alright.

(Author’s Note: Goodness, okay so this idea was originally for part 27 of Star Bound after Nova and 404 got separated but decided that maybe it didn’t quite fit with the tone I was going for originally. Polterglitch didn’t seem to be in character for what I wanted him as since I still wanted him to be a little more protective and sarcastic and still have qualities that the original Error Sans has. The story itself does dive headfirst into mentioning that Error and Outer were together before the events of Fate and the two becoming Polterglitch and Nova. I wanted to save that for later or have small mentions of the two being close and have the audience piece together or spin together what that may have been like for Error and Outer in the past. Hope y’all enjoyed.)

(Characters used: Error Sans by CrayonQueen/LoverofPiggies, Outer Sans by 2mi127, Nova Sans and Polterglitch by Weirdverse/Weirdversethestrange Fate by Harrish6)

[thatonegirlwhowrites]

eddie munson x popular reader where they are in a secret relationship and the jock do something mean to the hellfire club and reader stands up for them. maybe jason doesn't take it very well and Eddie then stands up for the reader. Fluffy ending.

Thanks in advance!!

Blush || Eddie Munson

Summary: Reader finds herself in a bit of trouble after standing up for her boyfriend, and Eddie has no intention of letting Jason Carver continue to be an asshole to his girl.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Popular!Reader

Warnings: violence, angst, fluff, no major volume two spoilers, JASON, bullying, a little bit of blood, grammatical errors.

Notes: loved this idea sm!

1.7k words

Masterlist

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Three more hours.

Only three more hours until you could leave this godforsaken hellhole that is Hawkins High and finally enjoy some time with your boyfriend, Eddie Munson.

You two were most certainly an unlikely pair and the last thing you expected was to fall for the boy who apparently ran a cult. Of course, that was very far from the truth as you were quick to learn that Eddie Munson was the gentlest person you had ever met. Despite the hardships he faced in and out of school, he was always the one to make sure everyone else was okay. Which was also why he convinced you to keep your sprouting relationship a secret.

You wanted nothing more than to show everyone how proud you were to be dating Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, but he was quick to realize your school life would be turned completely upside down if people knew you were associated with each other. You had hesitantly accepted the rule, but it didn't mean it hurt any less when you heard every popular kid talk down on the entire hellfire club and especially Eddie.

Nonetheless, you pushed through because come every Friday afternoon you could drop the peppy cheerleader facade and just be yourself whilst spending time with the boy you loved. Sometimes you would go to his trailer, and other times he would come over to your house. Your mom had grown to love Eddie and had also been completely convinced she knew who her future son-in-law was going to be.

“Yo, Y/n!” you heard a loud voice coming from your right.

You blinked harshly a few times, bringing yourself back into reality and out of your wandering thoughts.

“Uh sorry, what's going on?” You sighed, looking towards Jason as you realized he was the one to say your name.

It was hard to miss the eye roll that came from him, but you ultimately decided to ignore it.

“If you would have been listening like I asked everyone to do twenty minutes ago, you would know what's going on.” His voice was sharp and cold. Jason had always disliked you ever since you helped Chrissy realize how terrible her boyfriend truly was to her and everyone else. He knew that you weren't like the rest of the popular kids, and that bothered him to no end.

“I am so very sorry.” You sarcastically smiled and almost started to lay your head over on the lunchroom table until he began speaking again, “You know it's fine, I just wanted to make sure you were payin’ attention when we dump a bucket of water on the entire fucking satanic cult over there.” He smirked.

“W-What.” You immediately perked up just as three jocks dropped water-filled buckets over your boyfriend of all of his friends, efficiently ruining their clothes and food.

The lunchroom was filled with gasps, and you could see the anger practically steaming from Eddie.

Maybe it was the fact that you had already had a bad day, or maybe it was the fact that Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler looked just a little too sad now that their clothes had been ruined, but you had officially had enough of the bullshit.

“Jesus Christ, do you guys have to be such dicks all of the fucking time?” You stood up harshly as you pushed your lunch tray hard enough for it to fall right into Jason's lap. You hadn't really meant for that to happen, but you weren't complaining that it did.

“What the fuck.” Jason was now the one fuming as he jumped up from his seat and headed right for you. You hadn't been expecting him to come up behind you, but you were sorely mistaken as his foot caught yours, sending you falling nose first into the ground.

You hit the cafeteria floor with a thud, and as if that wasn't embarrassing enough, Jason had poured the remainder of the water right onto you.

Jason had half expected the lunchroom to fill with laughter, but it was dead silent as all eyes were focused on what had just happened, turns out tripping a very well-liked girl and pouring water on her, wasn’t the best look.

You were still in shock over the events that just happened as you clutched your throbbing nose, feeling a bit of blood beginning to fall over your top lip.

That’s all it took for Eddie to lose any kind of composure that he was hanging onto. Within seconds he was in Jason's face,” You know I can deal with the bullshit, but when it comes to her, you don’t fucking wanna go there.” His jaw was clenched so tight, that he thought it might snap.

Despite the pain you were currently in, you couldn't ignore the feeling in your stomach as Eddie stood up for you, much like you had tried to do for him a few moments ago.

Jason only laughed at the sudden bravery from Eddie, “Go sit back down freak, this has nothing to do with you. I don't know if you have been in your little cult fantasy land for too long or whatever, but she doesn't want anything to do with you.” Jason said with an unsettling amount of confidence like he actually knew you.

You had managed to stand up on your feet again, a few steps behind Eddie, “Actually Jason it does concern him considering he is my boyfriend.” You were loud and proud with the label, hoping every single person in the lunchroom heard it, and you were sure they did since there was basically a crowd formed around the three of you.

Eddie looked back at you for a moment, concern was clearly written all over his face at the sight of blood coming from your nose but you gave him the best reassuring smile you could muster.

Eddie wanted nothing more than to swoop you up in his arms, but he wanted to make sure something like this never happened again.

“Let's make something clear here Carver, you ever lay a fucking finger on her pretty little head again, and i’ll fucking cut it off.” His blood was boiling and Eddie fully meant every word that had just come out of his mouth.

He would do absolutely anything to protect you.

“You won’t do shit Munson, you’re a fucking cowar-” Jason was harshly cut off when a sharp swing to the face knocked him to the ground, blood now pouring out of his nose.

You felt a bit guilty, but you couldn't help the satisfaction that swarmed your body seeing him rolling on the ground with a bloody nose instead of you.

“Sorry, what was that? I think you got cut off there.” Eddie was now bent down closer to the floor so he could make eye contact with the blonde boy on the ground. “Choose your next words wisely Jason. After all, I could do a lot worse than punching you in the face considering I'm in a satanic cult, right?”

Jason's eyes got a bit wide then, “I g-got it freak. Get away from me.”

Eddie was content enough with that answer as he hurriedly turned around to you, his eyes running over your body to make sure you weren't seriously hurt.

“Cmon sweetheart, let's get you to the nurse.” His voice immediately took on a gentle tone as he wrapped his arm tightly around your waist and assisted you out of the lunchroom as everyone stood there wide-eyed with several jaws dropped to the floor.

The privateness of the hallways was a relief, away from prying eyes.

“Hold on a second Eddie.” You needed a moment to catch your breath, a moment in peace.

Eddie took this as an indicator that you were in pain, leading him to start panicking a bit, “What's hurting? I-Is it your leg? Your nose? Y-Your-.”

You were quick to cut off his spiral with a soft kiss on his lips. You tiptoed just enough to be able to reach his face as your hands snaked around him for comfort.

Eddie hummed in satisfaction, practically melting into you.

“Nothing hurts. In fact, I feel great and I think we should just skip the nurse's office and the rest of the school day to be honest.” You smile lovingly as you peer right into his big brown eyes.

“Are you sure you're okay?” He cautiously ran his eyes over your face again as he wiped the remainder of the blood off from under your nose.

“I am more than okay Eddie Munson.” You gripped his hand tightly as you started leading him to the exit. He happily followed you.

He looked over at you for a moment, “I'm sorry I got so mad earlier, a-and if I scared you o-or-.”

Your heart cracked slightly at the sadness in his voice, “Babe, don’t ever apologize for putting Jason Carver in his fucking spot. Plus I thought it was kinda hot. You know, you threatening to curse him and all.” You lightly shrugged as Eddie let out a bit of a snort, “They are all so gullible,”

And with that, you guys finally made it out of the school building and to Eddie's van where you proceeded to call your mom and tell her what happened, and you fully expected Eddie to be met with a big hug whenever you guys got back to your house.

“I swear I really think my mom might love you more than she loves me.” You giggled out, leaving Eddie laughing right along with you.

“What can I say? I guess I'm just a charmer.” A playful smirk resided on his face for the rest of the ride, as your hands were still tightly clamped together all the way up until you guys pulled into the driveway

“I love you, Eddie.” You sweetly spoke before getting out.

“I love you too Sweetheart.” a strong blush found its way onto Eddie's face.

You couldn't help but point it out, “It's not very metal of you to be blushing like that Munson.”

The redness only got worse, “You're making it worse.” He felt the warmness of his cheeks with his hands as he pouted.

“I'm sorry baby.”

“I forgive you.” Eddie kissed you gently on the lips.

Despite the events that had happened today, you both couldn't be happier.

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[imekitty]

Grave Error II

Follow-up to this ficlet.

Fun fact: I first tried writing this like a month after writing the first ficlet and struggled so much that I ended up rage quitting in tears. But now a couple years later, I gave it another try!

-----

Maddie stared at the three headstones before her. Her son. Her husband. Her daughter. She was the last one standing in this cemetery now.

But someone was watching her.

“I know you’re there,” said Maddie. “You might as well show yourself.”

Nothing happened for a moment. Then Phantom fizzled into view several feet away.

“You’ve grown since the last time I saw you.” Maddie smiled at him, noting his broadened shoulders and height.

Phantom ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I don’t age as quickly in this form, but I guess have grown a little, huh?”

“In this form? As opposed to what?” asked Maddie. “A human form?”

Phantom gazed at the graves, his lips thinning. Maddie looked down at her withered hands speckled with liver spots.

“I look old, don’t I?” She chuckled. “But I know that’s no surprise to you. You’ve been coming here to watch us when we visit for many years now.”

Phantom gripped one of his wrists, wringing it.

“You just always stayed invisible,” said Maddie. “But I knew you were there. Every time.”

“I just wanted to—”

“Don’t.” Maddie shook her head. “I don’t want to hear your reason.”

A breeze rushed past. Maddie tightened her coat around her.

“But you might as well come closer.” She kept her eyes on the headstones. “Stand next to me. I’m too old to do anything to you now anyway.”

Phantom hesitated before taking slow steps toward her, his boots crunching over dead leaves. He stopped by her side and faced the headstones.

“You really knew I was there?” he asked. “Every time you came?”

“Mmm hmm. I could tell.”

“But then why didn’t you say anything to me before?”

“I had nothing to say to you. And I didn’t want Jazz or Jack to know you were there spying on us. Jack would’ve wanted to hunt you down, capture you.”

Maddie could see Phantom’s bright glow on the edge of her vision as she continued to stare ahead.

“And I just wanted to forget about you,” she murmured.

“Forget about me?” Phantom looked down at himself before raising his eyes again. “But then why are you talking to me now?”

Maddie shrugged. “This is the first time I’ve had to come here alone. And I suppose maybe I didn’t want to be alone.”

They stared at the headstones in silence for some time.

“My entire family.” Maddie felt her throat tightening and tried to breathe to open it. “They all left before me. I just never thought I’d be the last to go.”

Phantom folded his arms and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “How… I mean, what happened to them?”

“Why do you want to know?”

Maddie looked at him. Phantom kept his head down.

“I just thought you would’ve known already,” said Maddie. “With how much you like to spy on us.”

“I wasn’t spying on you.”

“Then what do you call watching us invisibly every time we came here?”

Phantom blinked a few times, still staring at the ground. “It was the only way I could see you. Because I can’t leave Amity Park. Whenever I try, something just...holds me back. It won’t let me go.”

“Because your ghostly obsession is tied to this town,” said Maddie.

Phantom did not reply.

“But why would you want to leave?” asked Maddie. “Why would you want to see us?”

“You know why.”

Phantom continued keeping his gaze to the ground. Even with his slowed aging, Maddie could see tired lines around his eyes and mouth.

“I still see reports about you when I check the Amity Park news,” said Maddie. “You’re still saving the town, still making those silly jokes and puns while you do it.”

Half of Phantom’s mouth curved up. “Yeah, well, it’s all I have now. I… I have nothing else. Not since…”

He glanced at her before returning his gaze to the ground.

“So you’ve been reading about me?” he asked. “You’ve been...thinking about me?”

“Does that stroke your ego, Phantom? Satisfy your obsession to be a beloved hero?”

“That’s not it.”

They stayed silent for a moment, staring at the headstones.

“I found their obituaries online,” said Phantom. “But neither of them gave the cause of death.”

“I didn’t want to disclose that.”

“Please tell me.” Phantom gripped his elbows tightly. “I would really like to know. Please.”

Maddie sighed. “Jack went first. Heart attack. We had known it was coming for some time. He had been struggling with his blood pressure for years and was terrible at eating healthy. He always ended up cheating with tons of fudge.”

“He never could resist fudge.”

Maddie quirked a brow. Phantom was smiling wistfully.

“Jazz caught pneumonia one day.” Maddie faced forward again, reading her daughter’s name etched in stone. “No idea where it came from. She was in the hospital a few weeks. We all thought she had beaten it when she moved into transitional care. But then she took a turn and was just...gone.”

Heavy tears sprang to her eyes, too hard to hold back.

“I knew I’d probably outlive Jack.” Her voice faltered. “He was overweight and ate all the wrong things. But my children… I never thought I’d be burying them too. Certainly not both of them.”

Her body shook, her old legs barely able to support her convulsions. Phantom stepped closer and held his arm out to her. She took it without thinking and leaned on him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to leave you so soon.”

Maddie wiped away her tears with her fingers. “Are you really still trying to convince me you’re my son?”

“You still don’t believe me?”

Maddie sighed deeply and did not look at him as she continued holding his arm. “No.”

Phantom’s shoulders lowered, his head fell.

“But I think I might like to pretend you’re my son. Just for now. If you don’t mind.”

Phantom raised his head. She did not return his gaze.

“I don’t mind.”

She tugged on his arm in the direction of a nearby bench. He led the way, escorting her, supporting her.

They sat together for some time. Maddie kept her hold on his arm. And when she grew tired, she lay her head on his shoulder.

And when he lay his head against hers, she allowed it.

The moments were long and quiet. Cold breezes rustled the few leaves left in the trees.

“I’ve missed you, Mom,” murmured Phantom.

Maddie sat up and studied his face. His eyes shone with tears.

She let go of his arm and stood. She walked away from him and never looked back.

And then a fourth grave appeared next to the others.

Danny read the names on each headstone. His sister, his father, his mother.

Finally together again.

He stood in front of his own grave and considered phasing through the ground into his casket to lie with his bones.

[haworthiaace]

Magic misfits! Did I update the masterpost specifically because of this fic? yes absolutely. A busy day for Scar, featuring TFC and some good ol’ Scar appreciation :]

The start of a new season was always interesting.

While TFC didn’t enjoy having to start from scratch every year or so; having gotten used to the comforts of late season riches, he did love the sheer amount of interaction that came with a new season. TFC was content to hear gossip about the others’ shenanigans while he stuck to what he was best at: mining. Some of the others called it cheating to use his earthbending down in the tunnels, but he called it cheating to be able to shapeshift, or use magic crystals, or any of the other crazy things the other hermits could do, so it evened out.

When he wasn’t down in his mine, TFC watched as all the other hermits scrambled to make the most impressive buildings and contraptions in as little time as possible. Many of his servermates placed more importance on finishing their creations than actually gathering necessities such as tools and armour. 

As if to prove this observation, the Boatem village appeared on the other side of the nether portal, populated with structures that were much too large considering it had only been three weeks since they arrived in this world. There was also a… tree? At least that’s what it looked like; a thin oak tree stretching up past the clouds and out of view. Looks like Mumbo and Grian were up to no good already.

“TFC! Up here!” Scar’s voice came from somewhere above TFC’s head, and he looked up to see the wizard (although he no longer wore his robe and hat) standing on a balcony extending from a truly massive wagon, one hand on the railing and the other extended above his head, waving enthusiastically at TFC.

He climbed the ladder up the side of the wagon, entering a sparse storage room. Knowing Scar, he either hadn’t bothered to move in yet or lost all of his things in a cave somewhere. Despite his powerful crystal magic, Scar still managed to die more than any other hermit, so the second option was more likely.

“Well hello there! Welcome to my humble abode, please take a seat.” Scar led TFC to a balcony, where he gestured towards a table and two folding chairs. Scar sat down, crossing his legs and folding his arms in his lap. “So, what brings you to our little village today?”

TFC raised an eyebrow at the question, confusion evident in his voice. “Because you invited me? We were supposed to have tea today.” 

Scar jolted in his seat, then proceeded to scramble out of said seat. “I’ll be right back! I have to go… feed Jellie!” This was quite obviously a lie seeing as Jellie hadn’t returned from her between seasons interdimensional travels yet. TFC’s laughter chased Scar into the wagon, where he frantically prepared the tea that he was totally planning on making because he definitely remembered his plans for the day. 

After about five minutes of mildly concerning crashing sounds, Scar returned with two steaming mugs of tea (decorated with cat faces, of course) and a plate of chocolate chip cookies - Stress’ recipe if TFC wasn’t mistaken. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, appreciating the tea and cookies. 

“So, how are you holding up this season, Scar?” TFC took a sip of green tea, looking out at the horizon.

“Oh you know, the usual. I don’t have my village anymore, but the magical misfits still come seeking my help.” He brought a cookie to his mouth and bit off half of it. “Not that I mind helping people!” He swallowed his mouthful before continuing. “XB was here last week convinced that he left his coat in season seven, but turns out it just ended up in one of Joe’s boxes.” He chuckled to himself, wiping crumbs off of his jacket as TFC stared at the distant ocean, lost in thought.

TFC broke the silence that had fallen. “You’re a good man, y’know that?” The wizard in question looked at TFC in surprise. He was used to ‘thank you’s, but the personal compliment caught him off guard. “You’ve created a safe space for folks from all sorts of places, and you’ve saved quite a few of them from bad people.” 

Scar looked down, smiling at his cup of tea. He spoke quietly, a departure from his usual boisterousness. “Thanks TFC, that means a lot.”

-

Scar was in the middle of catching TFC up on what he missed from day one when something red and very fast crashed into the balcony. The something in question turned out to be Grian, shimmering wings protruding from his back. Something must have been wrong, since winged hermits tended to refrain from flying early in the season, in the name of fairness.

“Scar we need your- Oh heeey, I didn’t know you had company over!” He leaned on the railing, his urgency replaced with a forced cheerfulness as he (quite obviously) pretended nothing was wrong. What was probably supposed to be an easygoing smile stretched too wide, and his voice was more high pitched than usual. “How’s it goin’?”

Scar, completely oblivious, responded excitedly. “Oh, I was just telling TFC here about our adventure in the geode with Cleo!”

Grian’s uncomfortable smile grew wider, and his eyebrows furrowed. “That sounds great, do you think you’ll be done anytime soon?”

“Oh well, I’m not too sure. It depends on when we finish all of these cookies.”

“Oh that’s just wonderful,” Grian’s wings started to twitch behind him, “did you make those yourself?”

Scar took a breath, preparing for a tangent when TFC cut in, showing the poor fairy some mercy. “Alright Grian, out with it. What’s wrong?” Scar stared at Grian, somehow surprised that this wasn’t a completely ordinary visit.

Grian let out a long sigh. “Thank you so much TFC.” He turned his gaze to Scar. “We need a little help with curse breaking.”

Scar set down his mug and gave Grian his full attention, preparing himself for whatever strange curse one of the fairies had set on some poor hermit. “Really? How are you two cursing people already? It hasn’t even been a month!”

Grian’s tangent was accompanied by wild hand gestures that made it difficult to follow what he was saying. “Well, Pearl came up behind Mumbo and spooked him, he shouted something about not sneaking up on him, and now whenever he turns his back on her she teleports directly in front of him.” Grian looked nervously over his shoulder in the direction of Mumbo’s van. TFC followed his gaze, and burst into laughter again.

Mumbo was standing a few feet away from his campfire, spinning in circles and doubling over in laughter as Pearl kept popping up in front of him. 

Scar pushed himself up from his chair, TFC followed suit. The pair headed to the door while Grian flew back down, Scar giving TFC a sort of briefing. “Alright, let’s go figure out what exactly Mumbo did before Pearl starts feeling particularly vengeful.”

-

It took two hours and a lot of trial and error (with TFC giving supremely unhelpful tips), but eventually Pearl could stand behind Mumbo again. At some point Scar accidentally applied the effect to both Grian and Mumbo, and he had to beg the two not to create a space time anomaly. But it was all fixed now, and TFC was sure Pearl’s revenge would be swift and cruel.

Scar made his way back up to the balcony, and the two continued their conversation. It was a good thing Scar had enchanted his mugs, something he had done back in season seven after his drinks kept getting abandoned and going cold.

After a few hours of peace (other than both Mumbo and Grian’s bases abruptly flipping upside down while the boys were inside), the pair was interrupted again by a voice behind them.

“Howdy, Scar. Oh, and howdy to you as well, TFC!”

Neither of them had heard Joe coming, so Scar jumped about a foot in the air while TFC nearly spat out his tea. It turned out that Cleo was there as well, looking quite a bit angrier than Joe, although that wasn’t too uncommon.

“Oh my goodness, Joe you scared the life out of me!” Scar held a hand to his chest and caught his breath as Cleo got right to business.

“Sorry about that Scar,” her voice was flat, and it was safe to assume that she was not, in fact, sorry about that. “But we have an emergency. It’s completely Joe’s fault, he-”

Joe smoothly stepped in front of his companion as he cut her off, “I wouldn’t say it’s entirely my fault, old magic is a fickle thing-”

Cleo shoved Joe aside, stepping in front once again. “He revived my leg!” She raised a foot off the ground and gestured at it with both hands.

Sure enough, both TFC and Scar looked down to see that Cleo’s right leg was significantly more flesh-coloured than the left, restored to what it presumably once was. 

Scar’s lingering panic was instantly replaced by an amused grin as he gestured to the leg in question. “Cleo, why don’t you just get your leg reinfected? It’s not like zombies are hard to come by.”

The pair stood still, just blinking. (Completely in sync, it was eerie) 

Cleo rounded on Joe and punched at his shoulder just as he raised a hand to deflect her fist. “How did you not think of that Joe?! I thought you knew everything there was to know about-” She gestured wildly about for a moment. “Everything?!”

“Shouldn’t you be some sort of zombie expert by now? How is that my responsibility?” The argument continued as the pair went back into the wagon and down the ladder. As they walked off, presumably to go find a cave, something occurred to TFC. He cupped his hands around his mouth to yell down at them.

“Cleo!” She turned around. “Don’t use Joe as bait!” 

She snapped her finger like a defeated cartoon villain, as Joe turned to face her and presumably gave her grief for this evil plot.

-

It was only about five minutes after Cleo and Joe left (preceded by twenty minutes of arguing) that the next problem arrived, as it often did, in the form of Zedaph, Impulse, and Tango arriving on the shore of the village. TFC found this odd, seeing as how everyone was now connected by nether portals, but he assumed there would be an explanation shortly, even if it didn’t make a lick of sense.

Impulse shouted up from the ground, the three of them clustered near the front of the wagon. “TFC, we need your help!” Well that was a surprise, not many people asked for his assistance other than Scar. “We made an oopsie and Cleo said we could find you here!”

As every hermit knew, ‘oopsie’ was a versatile word with these three. It could mean anything between making a minor mistake in a build to banishing Impulse for the fifth time. “What happened this time?” TFC stood up and made his way down the ladder, since shouting down at them wasn’t very efficient and they didn’t seem inclined to come up.

Impulse started twisting his hands together while Zedaph and Tango tried their best to look innocent behind him. It didn’t work. “Weeell, Tango wanted a terraforming job done around his base, so we made a little deal for it.” 

Oh boy. Not much good came out of magical deals, yet the other hermits continued to make them with each other. Demonic deals were especially tricky since the demon didn’t have precise control over their end of the deal, not that it stopped these three. “Tango offered me his first beacon in exchange for the job, and it turns out that a beacon is worth a lot more than I thought- it’s probably easier if we show you.”

“Quick FYI guys: firsts are very valuable in deals! It applies to you as well Impulse, not just the fae!” Scar called helpfully from his still seated position on the balcony.

-

They all ended up going over to Tango’s house/ shop, which was literally buried in a mound of dirt and stone, along with about three quarters of Bdubs’ giant moon house. That explains why they didn’t use the nether. 

The earth was offended after being touched by demonic magic, but after a long negotiation TFC managed to convince it that Impulse meant no harm, and it was happy to return to its prior state. Tango was mildly annoyed that he would have to do the terraforming himself and give Impulse a beacon, but it was better than the wrath he would have faced from Bdubs.

By the time TFC and Scar returned to the Boatem village, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon. While TFC admired the beauty of it, Scar just looked disappointed. 

“I’m sorry.”

TFC raised an eyebrow at the wizard, a frown making its way onto his face. “What do you mean you’re sorry? Did you do something to the tea?” 

Despite TFC’s attempted joke, Scar still stared at his perfectly polished shoes. “This was supposed to be a nice relaxing day to catch up, and people were just showing up left and right. I mean, we hardly got to spend any time together! Maybe I shouldn’t invite people over with all this wizard stuff going on.”

“But we did spend time together.” TFC’s rough hand landed on Scar’s shoulder, the latter looking up at the former, startled by the contact.

“Well yeah we had tea for a while but-”

TFC had to cut off Scar’s rambling or he would never get to his point. “Yes we had tea, but I’m talking about the rest of the day.” Scar seemed genuinely confused at this. “I helped you un-curse Pearl,” he did air quotes on the word ‘helped,’ “We watched Joe and Cleo argue together, and you came with us to fix Tango’s house.” Of course he didn’t do much other than laugh at Tango’s misfortune, but it was the thought that counted. “Just ‘cause it didn’t go to plan doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good time.” After all, not much went according to plan on the hermitcraft server.

Now Scar was smiling. “So I didn’t ruin the day with magical misfits?”

“Not at all.” TFC reached for his mug and emptied it one last time, then stretched before heading out. “But now I gotta get going. I don’t like my chances against the mobs with my crappy iron gear.”

Scar waved once more as TFC disappeared into the nether portal. “Goodnight TFC! And thanks again, for everything!”

TFC smiled as he made his way through the nether tunnels back home. Scar did a lot more for the hermits than he realized, allowing them to be free with their magic in a way they couldn’t back home, TFC included. He’d created a home for all sorts of ‘magic misfits’ as Scar put it, and he performed an invaluable service, whether he realized it or not.

He’s a good kid. Just needs some reminding every once in a while. 

[feralnumberfive]

The Rewatch Academy: Episode 2 of Season 1

“Run Boy Run”

I am in no way a good analyst so my little analysis and speculations probably sound a bit goofy or pretty wild and probably mean nothing at all. Everything I put into this post about each episode is purely what I noticed or thought, whether it's funny or serious. I will be making jokes, so please just leave it at that (in no way am I trying to make fun of an actor and or character!) I am also in no way saying I noticed this stuff first. This is just what I noticed while rewatching these episodes

☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂

1x01 | 1x02 | 1x03 | 1x04

☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂

☂ Ben is a tired boy leaning on his chair

☂ Luther and Allison please stop making googly eyes at each other 

☂ Five really woke up and chose violence that day huh

☂ Diego already knows shit is about to go down and it’s so funny

☂ I love that Reginald doesn’t even scold Five for stabbing the table

☂ Five: “I have a question.” blah blah blah Veggie is talking Five: “I want to time travel.” That’s not a question, Five

☂ It’s interesting to see young Five blinking/jumping compared to older Five. Even at this age, 13, he says that he’s still practicing his spatial jumps. Young Five needs to clench his fists and almost squeeze his eyes shut just to concentrate. Older Five simply just teleports without effort and is able to casually blink even as he’s just walking. Five probably practiced teleporting a lot in the apocalypse 

☂ Someone else pointed this out, but all of the other Umbrellas are frozen for a for a second as Five teleports next to Reginald. While that freeze is just editing, and possibly a small error, this is another example of how Five’s spatial teleporting doesn’t make a noise. Luther, Diego, and Allison only look at Five when he begins talking to Reginald. Grace notices Five right away because he is in her line of sight while Luther and Diego were looking at where Five was sitting and Allison had her head down eating

☂ “The effects it might have on your body, even your mind, are far too unpredictable.” Harsh foreshadowing 

☂ The “Run Boy Run” scene is one of the best musical moments in all of the show. It gave me chills when I first heard it, and the fact that all of the lyrics that play during that part match so perfectly with it make it even better. Tomorrow is another day being sung as Five travels into 2019 is just too good 

☂ Imagine how scared you have to be to call out to your p.o.s father

☂ The instant regret immediately falls onto his face and he kneels in front of the Academy

☂ I love how in the first few episodes Five’s hair is styled exactly as it was when he was an old man and when he was actually 13. Over the rest of the season and the second season it just gets more disheveled and floppier 

☂ “You think I didn’t try everything to get back to my family?” Ahhhh there we go, one of my favorite Five lines. This here is probably when I truly fell in love with his character. He spent 45 years just trying to survive and attempting to get back to his family. He would have spent more too if the Handler hadn’t taken him in

☂ Vanya is genuinely trying to understand what happened and Five was being a little asshole. C’mon, bud, she’s just confused and hasn’t seen you in forever

☂ This Five and Vanya scene melts my heart (simply as a sibling relationship!!) She doesn’t care anymore if she understands, she just wants him to stay because she hasn’t seen him in a while. Even Five understands that as his demeanor quickly changes from being frustrated to gently telling her “Night.” He watches her as she leaves, also partially realizing that he hasn’t seen her in a while too

☂ Why didn’t Five just teleport outside of Vanya’s apartment?? That would have been the stealthiest thing

☂ “All quick and efficient skills.” A little note on Five’s level of skill of slaughtering the Commission agents in Griddy’s

☂ Diego said he bought his police badge on Ebay, so computers do exist in the UA universe

☂ “By the way, this thing might look like a botched robbery, but my gut’s telling me something else is going on here.”  Yeah, and that something else is your brother

☂ I want Claire to meet her uncles and aunt so bad

☂ So Ben has a ghostly puzzle book and pen he can use? Because if they were real Pogo would have been able to see them just floating in the air. What other ghostly items can Ben summon? (I believe this is more so just an error but it’s fun to think about)

☂  “I-I found it at a playground, actually. Must have just *click* popped out.” An underrated Five line

☂ Five immediately becomes aggressive at the thought of losing the eye, something he found clutched in the hand of his dead brother and was a clue to what caused the death of his siblings and the end of the world

☂ Just now noticed that you can see Diego up on the second floor being led down to where Patch is in the police station

☂ I really like that they added in the little tidbit about a cold case Five created 81 years ago

☂ I miss Patch. She deserved better and more screen time

☂ Hey, Diego might have been thrown out of the Police Academy but at least he’s still in The Umbrella Academy!

☂ Hearing Patch talk to Diego really made me realize that the Umbrellas weren’t even necessary for helping with crime. It was just Reginald’s way of training them

☂ Love the shot of Luther looking at Diego’s cross-stitch and the camera lining it up so it’s like he’s wearing the mask

☂ Five lying just to keep Vanya away and to continue on with his goal hurts. His goal is saving the world and his family, but I don’t think he actually took in what Vanya was saying to him or maybe he recognized the offer but shoved all of his feelings down. She was reaching out to actually get him some help and he lied to her to avoid that. Maybe he doesn’t care and is just blinded by his ultimate goal. Save the world and family first, then process your feelings and genuinely communicate with your siblings 

☂ Don’t worry Klaus, I would have let you wear that outfit

☂ When Cha-Cha questions “Five” aka the poor tow truck guy, she asks him about “The London job in ‘66.” I believe she is referring to the Shepherd’s Bush murders where three policemen were murdered

☂ Hazel replying “Not from what I’ve heard.” when Cha-Cha asks if he thinks Five is a whimperer shows that Five definitely had a reputation in the Commission for probably being a cold and stoic guy

☂ Vanya is just trying to help, chill Allison 😭. You haven’t seen her in years, what do you know about her?

☂ Klaus would really slap his brother in the face to get drug money

☂ Another example of Five not making noise when he teleports is when he blinks into the taxi and Klaus didn’t notice that he had left until he turned to look where Five was. On the other hand though the taxi driver does jump as Five suddenly appears in the car. However, I believe that might be from the driver noticing Five in a mirror in the car

☂ I wonder what languages the Hargreeves siblings know. Vanya didn’t understand Leonard’s German. You think Reginald would have taught them multiple languages or maybe she forgot it if she was taught it

☂ I don’t know why but Luther just siting there and reading a book and almost getting hit by the knife is really funny to me

☂ Yeah Diego doesn’t have to prove his innocence, but it would have saved a lot of trouble

☂ Rewatching the scene with Leonard talking to Vanya about his father is just disturbing when you already know what happened to him and how he’s lying just to try to be more relatable

☂ I heard a rumor that smoking is bad for you ❌

☂ Vanya calling to make sure Allison is okay even though she hurt her makes me sad. She’s so nice and thoughtful

☂ The old man can’t even reunite with his wife before he gets hunted down

☂ The shot of Hazel and Cha-Cha putting on their masks in the dark with the music is 👌👌

☂ Again, Cha-Cha isn’t able to hear Five as he teleports next to her and slices her arm. She might not have noticed him though because he was very quick to attack her

☂ Five really went through all of that just to bring his wife home

☂ I think it’s an easily blocked out part because we already know what Allison has to say and it’s exciting, but Luther is apologizing about accusing Diego and causing issues amongst his siblings

☂ Five is just so defeated and emotionally tired that he doesn’t allow Luther to touch him. In fact, he very quickly and aggressively grabs Luther’s wrist. You can tell Five is a little out of it and I believe it was more so his subconscious stopping Luther. Five doesn’t want help, he’s going to carry the burden of figuring out who ended the world and killed his family as far as he can by himself

☂ “There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing any of you can do.” Are such heavy lines. Five is so emotionally and mentally tired at the end of the day and he sounds like he’s about to breakdown. He’s replaying the moment he found his siblings’ corpses. They weren’t able to stop the person who ended the world. Luther is offering his help, but Five is denying it. Luther couldn’t stop the person who ended the world. None of his siblings were able to stop that person. He’s telling himself that they can’t help and he’s telling Luther and Allison that too. Five wants to be alone to figure out who this person is. His siblings can’t help him

☂ Five coming across the corpses of his siblings is just heartbreaking. He first stumbles across three adults lying in the rubble. One of them is holding an eye. He goes to shake the man in all black, having a tiny bit hope that miraculously he is still alive. He stumbles across another body only to back away with tears in his eyes as he spots the tattoo on the man’s arm and realizes who these people are

☂☂☂☂☂☂☂

Feel free to comment or reblog with things you have noticed too!

[pillowfluffs]

Wake Up | Lee Jeno

Pairing: Jeno X Reader (gender neutral) ft dreamies

Genre: cuteness

Author’s Note: based on this tiktok that called me single in 5 different languages ;-; 

the hand is really like throwing me off for some reason

The time said it was almost noon and Jeno was still asleep soundly in bed

He usually woke up a little before, around the same time, or even a little after you did but so far he rarely slept in

The other members had already woke up and Renjun already began to make breakfast alongside Chenle and Jisung to his aid

Mark and Haechan was still washing up and Jaemin just sat across the table from you, drinking his coffee with his espresso shots

Jeno must’ve been very very tired for him to still be asleep this late

But it made sense they all just finished recording their new music video, Go, for this upcoming comeback

And they travelled out of the country for a music video

And from what they told you, it was very exhausting and it took two whole days with little room for error and rest in between

Ofc this part is just part of the story. Idk how long they actually spend recording

And since they recorded in a different country, they were all pretty jet lagged, specifically Jeno who had it the worst

He had trouble sleeping on the plane ride back

but since it was a comeback, this meant many different promotions on the different shows and then dance practices that were already scheduled to come up soon

It took a lot to be an idol and to be so young in the industry too with little free time

“If Jeno doesn’t wake up, he won’t get any waffles,” Renjun warned to which you took this as your queue to wake him

“Will I get any if I go wake him?” You teased already knowing you would get some

Renjun and you had been close friends since you met everyone else, almost your brother

“We’ll see,” he smiled but you knew you would or you would make him make more for you

But you were also surprised how awake they all were but then again, they were probably more tired than they were showing

Like they were trained to

Wearing one of Jeno’s super oversized shirts, you made your way through the dorm towards his room at the end of the hall

You opened his door to smell his cologne mixed with his natural scent fill your nose

It was such a pleasant smell, you loved it

He slept on his back, his bare upper body exposed with one arm stretched over his pillows above his head with the other slung over his stomach

His blanket draped over his legs

From the doorway, you could see his chest slowly rising and falling with each breath he took

You crawled beside him from. The foot of the bed and laid on top of him, propping yourself by your arms  

“Jeno, it’s time to wake up,” you peppered featherlike kisses to his cheek, the heat from his body going into your body as you laid on his stomach

This only stirred him a little bit, getting him to hum in his deep sleep

“Jeno,” you dragged out a bit louder, “it’s time for breakfast.”

“Mmmm...” was all you got from him as he wrapped his arms around your form on him, cuddling you

Your face was suddenly squished between his arms and his bare chest as he continued to sleep

“Food time,” you mumbled into his skin, stretching your neck to kiss his jaw, rubbing the side of his arm

There really was no use

He was drained and could most likely sleep for another couple hours but he should stay awake and then sleep at night to fix his jet lag

“Wake up,” your voice soft against his skin as you rubbed his arm

But this only made him turn on his side, his hold still on you as he draped one of his legs beneath the blanket over yours

He rendered you immobile, all except your other hand

“Just a bit longer,” the first words he was able to speak to you

But his voice was barely there with how sleepy he was

“You’ll miss the breakfast Renjun made,” you said

“It’s fine,” he said breathily as he rested his chin to the crown of your head. “Mm, you’re so warm,” he said as he somehow fell even deeper into sleep

There really was no way you could wake him up

But a bit longer wouldn’t hurt, right?

You stroked your hand over his bare back, drawing light lines with the pads of your finger over his smooth skin

There was something about the way he held you that began to make you feel tired too

You ended up yawning more and more the longer you stayed in his embrace, surrounded by his smell

His weight on your body that was able to lull you to sleep faster than any weighted blanket or melatonin could

Your light strokes gradually slowed down to a stop as your eyes grew heavier, your body relaxing into his

“Wake up!” The sound of Renjun’s voice was loud enough that startled you, making you jump in his embrace that was able to finally wake up Jeno

“You came in here like half an hour ago to wake him up, how did you fall asleep with him?”

The room was suddenly filled with laughter as you woke up to find the other dreamies surrounding the two of you

Jaemin taking pictures to tease the two of you in the future with

“Wash up and go eat the waffles before they go cold,” Renjun scolded as he still wore his apron, waving his spatula menacingly at the stretching Jeno

“And put some clothes on!” He said as they all left the room, leaving the two of you

“Good morning,” he said as he blinked down to you, remnants of sleep evident in his low morning voice

“Good afternoon,” you smiled up to him, pressing a smiling kiss to his cheek, making him squeeze his arms around your waist, turning his body with you still in your grasp

He could get used to waking up like this

~~~~~ Masterlist for more! Thank you for reading!

[anghraine]

“the voices of the sea” - fic

I wrote a thing! There might be errors, since I wrote it very quickly, but it was fun (in its way). It’s part of the Aranorverse, where the explicit throwbacks in LOTR (Aragorn, Denethor, Imrahil, and Faramir) are genderbent (as Aranor, Andreth, Imraphel, and Míriel).

In particular, it’s a very belated sequel to “cloven shield and broken sword,” in which Aranor found a dying Boromir:

She remembered him tugging at her leggings, demanding to know but what next? And she remembered him in Lothlórien, haughty and suspicious until he began to speak of Míriel, the sister he had loved and protected through all the days of their lives. Boromir the tall, the fair, the bold, had died, and his treasured sister lived on; what was Aranor’s grief to that?

May the news of his loss come to you swiftly and kindly, jewel-maiden!

The dream always began the same way.

Míriel stood in a city of white and gold, grander than Minas Tirith, grander even than Osgiliath of old, though its domes and towers were similar enough in form that she knew she looked upon the work of Dúnedain. Most of the people around her, however, belied the impression, with their bright hair and soft features—or so it had once seemed. They were handsome, but in a way that unsettled her, like overripe fruit covered in sweet cream. Some particularly disturbed her: tall men in long red tunics, leading lines of bound prisoners towards a building beneath a particularly large and glittering dome.

The prisoners would not have looked out of place in Minas Tirith. Míriel’s stomach turned as smoke trailed up from the dome.

The first time, she still knew not what she saw at this point. It was strange and disagreeable, but little worse, until the winds began to blow. Míriel’s black hair whipped around her face, rain splattering on her head and cheeks and the ground, where it pooled into large puddles. Nobody seemed to notice her. Men came running from what looked like a harbour, shouting things in a language she couldn’t quite understand; her impression of their thoughts was dark and clouded, enough that she shrank back. 

But she was not a shrinking sort of girl, not really. The prisoners had drawn her attention again; the red-robed men seemed to be distracted by the newcomers and the prisoners had seized the chance to struggle with their bonds. She ran over to them.

“Who are you? Do you come from Gondor?” she asked.

No one answered. No one so much as acknowledged her existence. But as the water splashed over her sandalled feet, the prisoners broke free and fled, chased futilely by only a few of the robed men. She caught a single familiar word amidst all the clamour: storm.

Yes, of course. It must have come on very unexpectedly; everyone appeared to be dressed very lightly for this kind of weather. Míriel was herself; her thin tunic soon soaked through, and her skin went numb. The sky grew darker; she almost thought she saw the shadow of some enormous creature flicker across it. And the steady fall of the rain turned into torrential sheets of water that blasted through the streets, scattering the people on them.

Míriel ran as quickly as she could, like the rest, but instead of retreating into houses or flying to the ships, she turned and scrambled towards the clearest sign of refuge: a mountain near the city, rising clear and pure above its buildings. Smoke puffed from its summit, which struck her as wrong in some way.

She was a child at the time, her steps short, but somehow or other, her feet brought her out of the city and to the side of the mountain before the driving wind and rain could wholly flood the city and its environs. Ahead of her, a small woman in an embroidered white tunic, with sparkling bracelets about her wrist and a golden collar at her throat, clambered up the sides of the mountain. The air was hot, hotter than it should be, but Míriel could think of nowhere else to go. She struggled up the mountain after the woman.

“Can you hear me?” she called out. “Let us help one another!”

To her surprise, the woman looked back—but her fair face, though not unsettling in the way of the others’, was filled with utter terror. She didn’t seem to see Míriel at all, her pale grey eyes wide and staring. 

Míriel followed her gaze, and gasped. Water was rushing out of the city and drowning the green valley below, rising with impossible swiftness. Míriel was not craven, but at that, she turned back to the mountainside and struggled to scramble up its ledges, ignoring the pebbles that pressed into her feet beneath her thin, drenched sandals. Now, she could not look back, and she ignored the horror that filled her mind.

They never did make it to the top of the mountain. But they reached a high enough point that Míriel could see past it. Water was flooding beyond it, too, pouring through forests and rising over hills from every direction.

Even as Míriel gazed upon it, the storming water splashed up into foamy waves that roared beneath them. This did not, however, prepare her for what happened next.

To the west, all the waves seemed to join together into one, towering and impossibly enormous. But it grew still larger, cascading up and up and up and up, above Míriel and the woman, above the mountain itself, above everything. The hills and valleys, forests and cities, all fell under its heavy shadow. Míriel’s very blood felt cold, her her breath coming in small, frightened pants as the wave’s inescapable darkness deepened.

The woman, clinging to rocks, screamed something that Míriel half-understood. Then the wave began to crash down on them.

In Míriel’s bedchamber, her eyes flew open. That time, the first time, she promptly burst into tears and cried until Boromir came running, thinking she was ill. He managed to console her, but within a few nights, the dream came again, and then again within a few nights of that. So it continued, on and on, through the years that followed.

The horror of it never really abated. Yet she grew accustomed to it, in a way: to the sight of Númenor in its most terrible hour, only made worse by the understanding of what came next and why, to the glimpses of her namesake, the rightful queen. Indeed, nothing but the wave itself left so strong a mark on her mind as Tar-Míriel’s face, so beautiful and so terrified.

She, Míriel of Gondor, would never forget her, or Númenor, or where the folly and evils of their people had led. She could never forget. Perhaps that was the purpose of the dream. Perhaps it was a warning of what victory could mean in the end, however improbable victory might seem in her waking hours. Perhaps it was something else yet. But it never stopped haunting her.

Nearly thirty years after the first dream, though, it changed. Míriel dreamed again of Armenelos and the Meneltarma and the shadow of death rising inexorably above all. But there was no waking. The wave slowly began to collapse over them, foam and droplets spattering her face before it reached her. Míriel stood tall and straight, refusing to cower, allowing herself no further weakness than blinking the water out of her face. She opened her eyes to more water, feeling it slosh about her bare ankles.

But it was now deep into night beneath a pale moon, just bright enough for her to see that the water in which she stood flowed smoothly past the familiar shores of the Anduin. The terror of the Downfall had shifted to an overwhelming sense of peace.

As she watched, she saw a small boat come floating up the river. In colour, it was a peculiar, shining grey; in design, she could not recognize it. Nor did she expect to, for it cast a dim light all around it. Though nobody appeared to be rowing or steering it, it continued on its serene course without interruption.

Míriel felt a distinct desire to draw nearer the boat, to understand what could possibly explain all this. She thought of resisting the desire; she might have—but it did not strike her as foul in the way of the Enemy’s arts, so she dared approach. 

The boat slowed as she came near, within hand’s reach of the prow. Her instincts warned her against touching it, but she saw illuminated water filling the boat, and a warrior who first appeared to be sleeping in it.

Míriel gasped.

“Boromir!”

She knew at a second glance that he was dead. Anyone might have, without need of fallen Númenor or any other powers of this world. His chest had been pierced with many wounds. His sword lay broken on his knee, and others at his feet. His black hair had been carefully laid over his shoulders. She recognized everything he wore except a lovely belt of linked golden leaves, and his face was not only restful, but beautiful, even more than in life.

She and her mother had already feared the worst, when they heard the echo of his horn coming from the north, unaccompanied by any news of him. But it was one thing to fear, and another to see.

“Where is your horn?” she asked, as if he might somehow answer. 

The boat kept floating under her gaze, drifting past where she stood in the water. 

“Where are you going?” she cried. “Oh, Boromir!”

It passed on, down the stream and fading into the night, towards the sea. Míriel stood alone in the water. No priest of Sauron, no Faithful prisoner, no doomed queen or frightened citizen intruded upon her notice. No brother, either. 

She tilted her head down to stare into the clear river-water, her reflection a dark blur at this hour. With her hair hanging loose around her face, obscuring the sight of the shore, it reminded her of peering into the waters near Dol Amroth on a calm night. Perhaps it had reminded her father of the sea he missed, too. Oh, the sea, the sea! Must it always be the sea?

She felt tears slide down her cheeks—as if the occasion required more water, when Boromir was gone and forever consigned to the fate of Men. They would never see him return. She would never feel his great embrace once more, nor listen to him with their mother, nor ride out to the Pelennor with him, nor ever again see him laugh among the knights of Dol Amroth. Míriel squeezed her eyes shut.

She pressed her fingers to her face, rubbing away tears, and opened her eyes again. She felt no surprise at the sight of her bedchamber in Minas Tirith. Yet she was not lying in bed but sitting upon it, her hands still pressed to her cheeks, as if she had actually woken some time before, or never slept at all. Míriel rose, shaking out her dry shift, and walked over to her window, which looked westwards.

Boromir had risked death constantly; it was his duty and right as Captain-General and heir to the Stewardship. She had always known this. She had certainly known it when he set out on his errand, driven by a dream of his own. Yet, in some way, she had not known—not understood—and now—

Now, she must tell their mother.

[honeycombalbedo]

Cryo Visions || Genshin Impact Theory (Part 1)

(This so long I have to separate it into 2-3 partss)

Reason for doing this?? I just really like cryo characters ok

So to begin we have to talk abt why visions are granted

Visions are given to mortals by the god who represents said vision's element. The reasons why they give it to certain mortals can be seen in the vision tales for each character, the character level up gems and what the god's divine ideal is (freedom, contracts, etc).

As a few examples:

Pyro: She's a passionate mf who lives for those who have a passion in battle/adventuring/their craft etc and want to have their names know. You can see that in (basically) EVERYONE she's given a vision to. (I don't know how Diluc fits in but I don't really know abot his story other than the basics)

Geo: He values those who work hard and those he can trust with them.

The issue is, the cryo archon is the only one without a confirmed ideal. Everything else can be seen for the most part.

The gemstone:

"Sorry... to also have you shoulder the grievances of the world."

"Since you could endure my bitter cold, you must have the desire to burn?"

"Then, burn away the old world for me."

The cryo archon, despite now being described as cold and bitter still seems to have a strong heart for those she deems as unfortunate.

Now it's character story time

Diona

People commonly see Diona as entitled and annoying which it kinda shitty tbh

Diona's father, Draft, who she idolises and adores, is an alcoholic. To quote Diona, "When he's drunk, he's like a wild boar rolling about in the mud!"

We also don't know if Diona's mother is present because only Draft is mentioned and when he's drunk he just, isn't there. She has an envy towards wine because it "steals her father away". She's a lonely child who's father is barely there because he pays more attention to alcohol.

Secondly, she's been blessed(or cursed) by a fairy. It's mentioned in one story chapter. It's why every drink she mixes is so good. This kinda hinders her one goal, to destroy the wine industry.

Finally, she got her vision when a 3 day long storm trapped her father outside. The knights couldn't get a search party going due to said storm. Diona was enraged that she may have her father permanently stolen from her, she rushed outside, puddles beneath her feet freezing as she followed her fathers tracks.

Ganyu

Ganyu is forever cursed to walk among and serve mortals who see her as nothing more as a servant, afraid to mention her qilin heritage due to the fear of people out casting her from liyue's society.

Because her countless hours of work, a thousand years goes by in a blink of an eye. Even the smallest of errors will cause her anxiety to grow and become intensely embarrassed by.

A qilin's nature/ideals is to be peaceful and harmless creatures, not to harm a single plant or bug, making Ganyu a vegetarian. Yet, Liyue's foods are incredibly enticing towards her yet she must stop herself from taking part in their delicacies because a lot of it includes meat. Seems trivial but it's one way Ganyu is separated/distanced from Liyue's society. Which is something she doesn't want to be, distanced, an outsider intruding on the locals.

Interestingly, when Ganyu's vision was granted, it was when she offered to be the Liyue Qixing's secretary, a vision had immediately appeared.

Qiqi

Qiqi is dead, she is a zombie.

When she died she was only a child, sent out the look for herbs by an unknown person, she got lost and trapped between the mortal realm and the realm of the adepti.

Adepti and demons alike watched her, all understanding that this was a innocent child who had the misfortune to be caught in something more than a mortal could handle.

While bandaging her leg's wound, she could hear the otherworldy sounds that emanated from where she sat.

She hadn't expected a large crash and to be forever trapped between life and death.

In her last breaths, she was gifted a cryo vision, the adepti couldn't let her die now, so they gave her a part of their strength to keep her alive. She had to be frozen in amber for a few years due to her body being unable to control the adepti's strength.

After a few hundred years, she was discovered, yet still in amber. She was going to be brought to wangsheng to be buried but due to the journey, the seal shattered and she ran away.

She continued her herb gathering duties, even in death, and that's when she met Baizhu, a man interested in immortality. She was taken in by him and became his herb gatherer, and his test subject.

It's offhandedly mentioned in her voice line about Baizhu "I can never remember Dr. Baizhu's face. But I don't mind." Which implies she has no attachment to him whatsoever and wouldn't mind forgetting him. Another thing that implies this, is in one of her stories, the only thing that can cancel orders is a hug from behind and to say something akin to "I love you the most". It's mentioned that when Baizhu does it, it ineffective because it has little sincerity.

Also, this is her vision story

"Qiqi's Vision was given to her in the last moment of her life.

She wanted to stop the clock from turning. She wanted to live happily again.

She feared death. She wanted to live. She missed her family...

These feelings coalesced at last into "ice."

"If only I could freeze time... How wonderful would that be?"

As she thought thus, tears fell from the moribund girl's eyes upon the Vision that had appeared before her.

The mighty and illuminated adepti all acknowledged that this was a legitimate form of "illumination" — the yearning of humanity for bygone days is, after all, a desire to protect the past."

And that's the end of the first part, next one will be about Chongyun and Kaeya, and hopefully a conclusion to this.

[eleanore-delphinium]

The Demon’s Head

Damian Al Ghul for a moment was a hero. And in that time that he was a hero, naturally he would meet other heroes.

That was how he met her.

His Raven.

He would describe her as a very graceful woman. She was quiet, kind, generous and lovely. Despite her name sounding as if it should belong to a lonely person or an unkind being, she was none of these. But her name did befit her origins. In the sense that she is the daughter of a being synonymous to satan; and of intergalactic alien origin, the conqueror of worlds. Therefore, the name Raven as ominous as it was, befit her well, and yet also-- not so well.

But that was the thing, he was only a hero for only a moment. That moment was all that mattered, since—after all, that was how he met her. As she continued on her heroic path, he returned to what he knew to be right as a child, the path of darkness.

He took upon himself, the name Al Ghul, a name synonymous to a demon, and he used it well. And thus, Damian Al Ghul was reborn anew, he became the Demon’s Head. The name became associated to a cruel, cruel man. But he changed the ways of his organization, and tread very, very strictly on a grey line. And in doing so, he keeps his Raven. And remember it well and do not forget, he only stays on that grey line to keep her by his side.

And if anything were to happen to his beloved Raven, he will cross to the darkness before one could even blink his own eyes, and will burn everything and anything in his path with his bare hands.

So, make no mistake by taking his Raven away or you will live a life even more painful than death. For Damian Al Ghul has a league of assassin as his army, who are extremely loyal to him. And him alone.

Killing for him was as easy as dropping a needle on a hay stack.

Damian Al Ghul, the leader of the league of assassins, stood inside his throne room made of beautiful marble in ivory and gold. The sun high up in the sky, its light entering the space so blindingly. The sunlight weaves through the pillars and mashrabiya* leaving beautiful intricate patterns on the marble floors. The sunlight helped give an illusion of brightness and happiness and warmth to the chamber.

Damian was facing his throne, his back against the door as he read the papers he was holding with his right hand. His left hand resting against his back, atop his green cape. He was wearing his black with gold uniform and armor with a green cape in contrast to the almost white room. And with his cold facial expression one would be reminded, that all the sunlight was giving after all, was just an illusion of warmth.

Damian Al Ghul was not kind at all. But of course, there is an exception to the rule.

The door suddenly opened with a burst and a loud bang, and Damian’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. He had strictly told them that he shouldn’t be disturbed unless necessary. He coaxed himself thinking that it had to be an emergency. With narrowed eyes he tilts his head a bit to the left to acknowledge the presence of the intruder.

“My Lord!” A man in an all-black suit says hurriedly as he kneels on the floor with a thud. His left leg against the floor while the other propped up to let his right arm rest on top. His head bent toward the floor.

“What is it that you have to report?” His enunciation of every word unhurried and heavy. Damian could hear the gulp from his poor frightened little underling. Even if said underling was twenty meters away.

“It’s—it’s the Lady.” The poor man could barely say. And even though the sun was high up in the sky, and that it’s light shone brightly in the room, making the chamber look as if it was glittering, it became cold. So cold, that both people seemed frozen in place, but the poor underling was the one fighting his shivers.

“What about the Lady?” Damian asked a little too clearly, that the poor subordinate could only kneel on both knees, bend his body and rested his forehead against his hands that was now on the floor. At this point, Damian turned slowly, as his green eyes landed on the man in black.

“What about the Lady?” He repeated even more slowly than the last. And Damian saw his assassin shiver in fear.

“She-she has been missing for a few days, and we searched for her—but—but—she is nowhere to be found.” He reported as calmly as he could. The subordinate thought the room couldn’t possibly get any colder than it already was, but he was wrong. The moment he finished his report, he was kneeling there in pure horror, he was sure he will die today.

“It seems that my league of assassin who are supposed to be like a shadow, cannot protect their lady in the shadow.” It was spoken slowly that it was certain: that this was the calm before the storm. “It seems that my league of assassins lack training.” He concluded.

“You cannot even track down your lost lady, why do I even keep any of you!” Damian’s voice echoed through the chambers; his fury clear. And yet, anyone who knew their lord, would know that was not the full extent of his anger.

No, it really wasn’t.

“Lady Shiva!” He summoned and instantly a woman with black hair up to her neck in red appeared beside the kneeling assassin.

“It seems that you have been lax in training the league.” He tells her and as she bends her torso to bow. Before she could start with her apologies, he continued on. “Prepare the top ten men in the league, and have them follow me. We will look for the lady.” He started walking down his throne.

“No, in fact, I will be looking for her. And if you so choose to have people follow me then so be it.” He said when his eyes landed on Lady Shiva as he approached them, the assassin up on his feet, his head bent low as to be respectful to their Lord.

“When I find Raven, I hope my league’s errors would be corrected. But that would be wishful thinking, won’t it, Lady Shiva? I will personally see to their training when I return.” Lady Shiva and the assassin gave way to their Lord.

“Of course, my Lord.” She mutters as he completely disappears.

 ~.~.~.~.~

 Damian held a woman in blood stained and dirt-filled white robes on his arms. Her face had cuts and bruises and she looked so weak and small against his shoulder. When he looks down at her injured face, there was a softness in his glance. A gentleness unbefitting of the Demon’s Head.

But as gentle as he was as he held her, the scene behind him was not. Orange flames flickered as he walks out from the heat and the building calmly.

“I want anyone who is even remotely related to this tracked down, and I want them tortured.” He said so calmly as he held the woman he loves in his arms. His gentle glance has become cold as he looks at his subordinates in front of him. The crunch of green grass under his feet as he continued on into the night that was illuminated by the orange flames behind him.

“If done well enough, then maybe I won’t be so strict when I train you all. Prove that you all aren’t so useless after all.” His tone stone cold.

The gentleness from before must have been an illusion. Because this was the Damian Al Ghul, they all love, respected and oh-so-feared.

“Of course, my Lord.” One replied with a bow.

“No.” They pause as they wait for Damian’s final instructions. “Keep the master mind alone, I would love to capture and torture them myself.” And the shadows that was surrounding him disappeared. Raven stirred in his arms, against his chest.

“Damian?” She called out weakly. And he stood frozen as he took a peek eagerly at the woman in his arms. “They didn’t know.” She mumbles and he couldn’t help but narrow his eyes on her. She means that it wasn’t the Justice League’s fault.

“They didn’t know it was going to be a trap.” She tried to keep her head a float.

“And look at the price you had to pay.” He said bitterly as he sneered a little and continued walking to the jet.

“I—” She couldn’t even say anything to defend the Justice League, because she felt the turmoil in Damian. How could she defend the Justice League knowing what he was feeling?

“I didn’t mind that you wanted to continue being a hero. I would not take that from you.” He sets her down inside the jet. “And I know that you know this to be true, I only stay in between good and bad for you. If you are taken out of the equation, I have no qualms in being the Demon’s Head, in its truest sense. But you choose to love me, despite of who I am. And I will not have any one harm you. Less others think that the Demon’s head is weak.”

“You are not a bad person, my love.” She replied, as she cups his cheek. He closes his eye and places a hand over hers. He opens his eyes and meets her violets irises.

“But I can be, if I am without you.” He whispered so gently as his forehead laid against hers. The words completely true. They stay like that for a minute in silence, and he pulls away.

“You shall stay in Nanda Parbat as you recuperate. I will inform the Justice League.”  He stares at her sternly but she does not refuse him and he turns away from her.

The Justice League has been quite cautious about Raven. They knew of her relationship with the leader of the League of Assassins. And what the risk of putting her in imminent danger would mean considering Damian’s nature. Therefore, Raven was treated as if she was glass and yet, also fire.

“I begged them to give me the mission.” She said softly, she took note of Damian’s body twitching but she had to continue on. “After you left, and made a name for yourself as the new Demon’s Head, they were uncertain of where my loyalties lie.” She found it difficult to talk due to her injuries, but she had enough strength to heal herself a bit, to keep herself conscious and stop internal bleeding. And so Raven did, as she continued on.

“And then you made a point to show that you were not like your predecessor. And yet, you also made it clear you could be far worst. And I, your beloved, was someone who they could not risk in the forefront anymore.” She moved in her seat, as she felt her insides return back to how it should be. “I just wanted to do one more mission, where I wasn’t treated like a bomb, and after that, I will be done.”

He turned to look at her with a shocked expression. Her voice was calm as her face was gentle. Despite her battered appearance, she looked like a saint to him. The words he couldn’t seem to say aloud, she felt, and she responded as she closed her eyes.

“Yes, I was going to leave the Titans, and be with you. Commit fully to you.” Her voice was soft but his thoughts were a mess. And it was clear to Raven, all of his thoughts, as if they were all written on the air for her to read.

“The Justice League thought it was a harmless mission; therefore, they could let me go. It was supposed to be a reconnaissance mission, nothing more. But we were ambushed, and I was captured.” She sighs and opens her eyes to look up at Damian. The water in his eyes finally gave way as he blinked when their met, and she inhaled a breath.

“You could have died.” He said it lightly, that Raven’s heart started beating fast in her ears. His cold eyes that had never been directed at her, has finally landed on her. “You could have died, if I was just a minute too late.” And like his eyes that could no longer contain his tears. Raven could not ignore his emotions. And she broke into a sob, as she covered her lips with her fingers. He knelt beside her, as he put a hand on her cheek.

And his face was not cold nor was it warm. The eyes she had seen him use with his fellow assassins had disappeared. She didn’t expect that the day he would look at her, the way he did his subordinates, would happen.

“Are you crying for me?” He whispered and she sniffed as she looks at him. But still, even if his cold stare was frightening. She could never be afraid of Damian Al Ghul, even if he was an Al Ghul, and the current Demon’s Head.

“I’m sorry.” She tried to contain the emotions. And she could feel the apology he was about to say. And before he could, she leans her forehead against his. Places her right thumb over his lips as her palm rested on his jaw. “But I swear to you, I am done with being a hero. I want to walk that grey line with you.”

And his lips turned up into a smile. A smile that was only ever directed at her. His gentleness and kindness only exclusive to her. His warmth only reserved for her. And she could feel it all in her chest, and in her very bones.

The love he has for his beloved Raven.

And the danger, if he loses his bird.

 (FIN)

  Notes:

*Mashrabiya = those wooden windows with intricate design; (wiki says: is an architectural element which is characteristic of traditional architecture in the Islamic world and is a type of projecting oriel window enclosed with carved wood latticework).

[speechlessxx]

extremely wicked.

[dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Summary: After abandoning your ex-fiancé during his murder trial, he seeks you out for revenge. 

Warnings: drug use (prescribed tho), language, i could’ve made ransom a little darker but i chicked out, shitty writing, mild violence, mistakes probably 

Word Count: ~1.6k, a bit on the shorter side. 

i originally planned for smut but i pussied out (as usual)

Buy me a Ko-Fi - donations are unnecessary but GREATLY appreciated. 

You were fear stricken as the harsh winds blew against the tree, causing the branches to scrape against your front window. The screeching of wood against glass accompanied by the shadows left you paralyzed with wide eyes.

The advice the FBI agent told you still hung in the air – advice you should’ve heeded to, but you were always stubborn. “It’s unsafe for you, miss,” he told you and now you cursed yourself for being so dismissive of his concern.

You pried your eyes away from the window after a few long moments, staring at the brightly lit television screen that burned your tired eyes. The mindless sitcom proved to be a short-lived distraction as the show abrupted ended to deliver news. The broadcast did nothing to ease your anxiety, but every time you’d change the channel, you were met with the same story:

Breaking News: Serial Killer, Hugh Ransom Drysdale, at Large.

His mugshot was front and center as the anchorman warned the public to not approach him. “It’s unknown if Drysdale is armed, but he’s most certainly dangerous”.

You felt the color drain from your face as you continued to stare at the photograph.

The same pair of blue eyes stared tauntingly back at you. They were colder than you remembered. The smirk on his face was as charming as the day you met. Charming yet cynical.

A loud snap! pulled you from your thoughts, causing you to let out a small yelp. Your eyes immediately searched your surroundings as your breathing picked up slightly. The branch that hung over your window had fallen. The shadow and its silhouette were gone, leaving you a clear view of the full moon in the grey night sky.

You pressed your hand against your chest as you tried to steady your breath. Inhale, exhale… you thought to yourself. Inhale… exhale. You felt your heartbeat against your sternum, thumping against the bone as if it wanted to escape like the man who once stole your heart.

Your fear wasn’t misplaced. You had every right to be afraid.

It was your fault he was imprisoned after all.

The images of the women’s bodies flashed through your mind ever so often. During the trial, photographs of the cadavers were shown to the jury and audience. The audible gasps that were heard throughout the entire courtroom was almost as haunting as the very images that burned through your skull. You dabbed away at the tears as Ransom and his team of lawyers – the “most elite” group that Linda could buy just before disowning her son – congregated in the small office, coming up with a strategy. Ransom looked over at you before dismissing his team to “comfort” you.

It was then you gave back the engagement ring, telling him you couldn’t do this anymore. Despite Ransom’s insistence on his innocence, the evidence was stacking up against him. He looked guiltier and guiltier each day – even you doubted him. No matter how much you loved him, you wanted no part of this trial.

It was then he grabbed you. With a hand to your throat, squeezing the life out of you, he shoved you against the wall.

It was then he seethed his threat that haunted your dreams a year later.  

“If you leave me now, I swear to you… I will fucking kill you.”

He screamed it. Your ears were ringing as you begged him to let you go. When you managed to open the door and free yourself, you fell to the ground, coughing and wheezing. You were too caught up in your fear that you hadn’t realized Ransom’s outburst attracted a crowd.

It was that threat that put the final nail to his coffin.

You shook the memories out of your head. “It’s done, (Y/N).” You reminded yourself. “It happened. It’s over.” You took a deep breath as you turned off the television – it was doing you more harm than good anyway.

You walked over to your kitchen and frowned when the light refused to turn on. The wind whirled outside as you furiously flipped the switch but to no avail. The bulb was dead.

You groaned to yourself, thinking that this night could not go any worse. You poured yourself a glass of water before deciding to call it a night, reasoning you had an early shift.

The stairs creaked beneath your feet as you ascended the flight. As you prepared for bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The entire atmosphere of your house had shifted, placing you into an undesired horror film and leaving a strange feeling in your bones. You shuffled through your bedside drawer, in search for the orange Rx bottle containing the Ambien you were prescribed to help you sleep.

You flushed the pill down with big gulps of water, hoping that the sleeping aid would kick in faster. You snuggled into your comforter as a shiver ran down your spine. Your head whirled around the dark room and letting out a shrill shriek.

You swore a figure walked past your bedroom door and disappear down the hall. You blinked several times as if to adjust your eyes to the darkness – although with the power outage, they were already well adjusted.

“Nothing’s there.” You told yourself as you shoved the covers off. You poked your head out the door, examining the hallway. “You’re just paranoid… and tired.”  

Goosebumps rose on your skin as a familiar chuckle rang throughout the empty house. Menacing and wicked like a predator laughing at its prey.

“Oh, (Y/N)…” his voice echoed. Your breath hitched in your throat as you backed into your bedroom and locked the door; though, you knew it wouldn’t keep him out for long.

You fumbled with your cellphone, dialing 9-1-1. Within seconds the operator answered but you didn’t give him the chance to complete his script.

“I’m in trouble.” You whimpered. Your voice quivered and your hands – your entire body – was shaking. “Hugh Ransom Drysdale… he’s in my house. Please…”

“Ma’am,” the operator let out a long sigh. “Did you see him?”

“No, you don’t understand.” You rubbed at your eyes with frustration. “I’m his ex-fiancé. It was my testimony that put him in jail. I’m (Y/N) (Y/L).”

“Miss (Y/L), what’s your address?” He asked. The faint sound of typing could be heard on the other line. You recited it only for him to say, “you’re breaking up… Can you – “his voice began to break, muffled and robotic.

“No, no,” you begged as the line suddenly cut. Your mind slowly became fuzzier and fuzzier as the drug slowly began to take effect. You tried to redial, but the error message rang out throughout the phone’s speakers.

“(Y/N)…” he knocked three times.

“Ransom, please,” you cried. “Please, just go.” Tears rushed down your face as you tried to fight the drowsiness. “I won’t tell anyone you were here – “

The doorknob jiggled. “I just want to talk, my little dove.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Like you didn’t believe me when I said I was innocent?” He tutted at you. “Open the door, little dove. Let’s talk.”

“No.” You shook your head although he couldn’t see you.

Ransom let out a sigh before a thud slammed against the wooden door. You whimpered before scampering beneath your bed. The slamming continued until you heard the door break. Your eyelids became heavier as heavy footsteps stomped around your room. You pressed your hand against to your mouth, muffling your breath, praying to whatever god or deity that was listening that he’d leave.

The footsteps suddenly stopped as Ransom exhaled. “My dumb, dumb little baby,” he tutted. Two large hands grabbed your ankles and you screamed as you clawed the floor in an attempt to anchor yourself.

Ransom straddled your waist, holding your thrashing legs in place as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them at the side of your head. He leaned over you – faces centimeters apart.

“Do you remember the last thing I told you?” Ransom asked you, ocean blue eyes bearing into yours. You shook your head at him, crying as meaningless strings of pleads escaped your lips. Ransom cooed, nudging your nose with his. “My dumb baby…”

“Ransom, please,” you cried. “Just go.”

“No, little dove,” he smirked. “I’m not letting you go.” He watched as your eyes slowly became a bit glazed over. “What did you take?” Ransom’s tone suddenly became concerned as he pulled away from you. His voice became distanced as Ransom’s face became blurrier and blurrier until you succumbed to the peaceful darkness – hoping that this was only a nightmare and that when you’d wake, this cold blooded murderer wouldn’t be looming over you.

Ransom slapped your cheek lightly at first, hoping that you’d regain consciousness. He called your name again before slapping you harder. He shook your shoulders but was met with no response.

“Well,” he huffed as he pulled your limp body from the floor, throwing you over his shoulder like a ragdoll. “Makes it easier for me, then.”

The stairs creaked louder beneath your combined weights. He hummed to himself as he opened the found your keys sitting at the dining table and waltzing over to the garage. He placed you at the passenger seat, wincing slightly when he accidentally knocked your head against the roof of the car.

Ransom made his way to the driver’s seat as the garage door slid open. He smirked to himself as he drove. He glanced over you, fast asleep with your head pressed against the window, jolting when the roads became uneven.

“Oh, what wicked things I have planned for you, my little dove.”

[prose-for-hire]

Always and forever

Pairing: Buffy Summers x fem!reader

Request: Hi I love your writing , may I request a Female reader x Buffy where they go on a small date and the reader is clueless it's a date cause they're awkward and Buffy thinks it's cute 🥺💕

Requested by: Anon

A/N: I’m back writing (slowly, very slowly) and here with Buffy and a female reader no less – hope this is what you wanted anon !! 💜🖤

It started with a smile.

The first time you had met she had been entranced by your smile. She thought you were the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. You had become close friends, the type where you could tell the other everything. Everything except your feelings for the other.

Buffy had liked you for a long time, she had come out to you first telling you that she liked girls. You had smiled, tried your best to be encouraging – explaining that you had those feelings for other women too.

She was beyond pleased when she heard this, she had a crush on your for a long time, but she hadn’t told you this just yet. She was trying to work up the courage to say something. She was usually more self-assured but when it came to you, there was no margin for error. She couldn’t lose you.

It was no secret to your friends that you both had feelings for each other, having both separately confided to the others. You, slightly awkwardly to Willow and Tara one afternoon in the Magic Box when it was quiet). The witches just smiled at each other knowingly, having had a recent and very similar conversation with a certain slayer about her feelings for you.

But nobody had clued either of you in, it was better to let you both discover it yourselves, they decided.

It carried on like this, with the stolen glances you would take at any opportunity. As well as the laughter and the way you both appeared to light up when the other was around.

Until today. Today, was the day. Buffy had just woken up and decided life was too short. You had all just fought your way through an apocalypse and Buffy decided she didn’t want to face the end of the world again without you knowing the way she felt.

She found you in the Magic Box sorting through some scrolls. You worked there and had been left to man the store alone as everyone else had some really important things to be doing until later.

The bell rang at the front and you looked up, smiling when you saw who it was. Buffy. She was wearing a cute cami and you complimented it as soon as you saw it. You wanted to continue, complimenting every feature she had. Every sweet smile and her rosy cheeks after she fought a demon.

Buffy smiled, looking down slightly as she spoke. She was usually so forthright, so self-assured but with you it all melted away.

This was so important to her – you were so important to her. She decided to ask you on a date first, so you could feel out how you wanted to continue.

“You wanna Bronze it tonight?”

“Uh, yeah okay – I’ll ask the others”

“No, uh, you don’t have to. We can have a girls night – where the girls would b-be just us” She hinted, your face smiling softly as you became excited at the prospect of having her alone.

However, you hadn’t realised that you had actually just agreed to a date. You were quite black and white and she made you flustered at the best of times so because she hadn’t actually called it a date – you hadn’t realised that was what it was.

Nevertheless, you dressed up with her in mind. Your favourite outfit, one she had compliment before. You were so excited that she wanted to spend quality time to you but you never even considered she wanted to hold you the way you wished to hold her. Kiss her the way she wanted to kiss you. Or even call each other girlfriend in the way you both desperately wanted.

She smiled as you entered, she had already saved a table. She wouldn’t usually come so early but she had been so excited (and she knew if she went for a walk around the block to kill time she would run into some demon and instead become hideously late because she would get into a fight).

You were right on time, not wanting to miss a second with her. You slid into the seat opposite her. She slid the drink over to you that she had already ordered. You were surprised to note it was your favourite: she had remembered. As you reached for the cup, your hand brushed against hers.

You felt a heat rising in your cheeks as you looked down at the way your hands had touched even slightly. You moved your hand reluctantly and took a massive gulp of your drink for something to do. To distract yourself from thinking about how her hand would feel in yours. How you were sure her fingers were made to entwine perfectly with yours.

She smiled at the contact but moved when you did, pulling her arms to cross them on the table reluctantly. She watched your hand as you clutched the cup and took a drink, you complimented her choice telling her you couldn’t have ordered any better yourself. She was very proud of this, shrugging a little and doing that pleased little smile you loved.

You were friends, you hugged and showed affection but because it was a date she wished she could reach over and take your hand without having to think twice about it.

She started to talk, asking you about your day. Your interests and any hobbies you had been enjoying recently. But she was unsure if you were having second thoughts. She had been really excited when you had agreed to go out just you and her. But you seemed uncomfortable or at least, uninterested in her.

This wasn’t true. Not even a little bit. You were worried that you were showing your feelings too blatantly when you weren’t sure she felt the same. You overcompensated and so it came off the complete opposite of what you felt.

All of Buffy’s not-so-subtle hints had clearly been lost on you.

Eventually you warmed up, knowing you were close friends should be enough. You knew Buffy cared about you so it was odd that you weren’t being the same.

You shared drinks, the best food that the Bronze had to offer and you were even convinced to dance with her. She lit up so beautifully when you agreed to dance with her. The proximity almost left you reeling. You were afraid you would faint at how close to her you were. How she guided your hands to rest on her as you danced to a slower song together.

She told several men more than once that all of your dances were hers. Nobody questioned it, especially seeing as they knew who Buffy was and the amount of strength she had.

You grinned whispering your thanks, despite you still not quite figuring out her reason for being so blunt with everyone else. All you could focus on was how happy you were with her. Swaying against her slowly. The way her perfume clung to her and her hands grazed your lower back made you shiver.

You were feeling so many things at once and she would never know. Never know how much this moment meant to you. You wished that you could take a picture and keep it in a locket around your neck. Keep her by your side always.

At the end of a really nice night, you walked out together, her insisting on walking an extra thirty minutes out of her way to walk you to your house. She needed to make sure that you weren’t ambushed by something big and gross.

When you arrived at your home you turned to thank her for a fun time. You smiled, feeling a little more confident to express your feelings with your close friend and rubbed her upper arm softly. She smiled at the contact, feeling the usual glimmer of hope she would feel. Pleased that now you had been on a date, this meant she had been right. That you harboured affection back.

This, of course was true, but you still weren’t entirely aware that she felt this way despite every sign. As you turned to leave she stopped you gently, holding your hand and smiling. She took a deep breath before finally saying something she had wanted to say for such a long time.

“We could kiss y’know, what with the date… only if the whole romantic kiss-age thing is cool with you and not totally outdated”

“This was… a date?”

“Uh, well, only in the sense that we had food and prolonged eye contact” She said, dropping your hand softly and looking away. She was expecting you to let her down gently. She was starting to get embarrassed, she had put her heart on the line. It had been so long and the last thing she wanted was to lose you as a friend.

“I-I didn’t realise-”

“That’s okay. It’s really fine I’ll just go” She started to babble, her eyes widening slightly, “Hopefully the Hellmouth will swallow me up on the way home” she muttered starting to turn away.

“Don’t go! I’m sorry, I was just trying to figure out how I got so lucky” You grinned, finally able to find your words. You moved closer to her, both of your eyes glistening at the revelation. You moved slowly and she blinked slowly, anticipating the contact from your skin. You tucked a stray strand of her beautiful blonde hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek, “Can I still have that kiss?” You whispered, barely audible. It still didn’t feel real. You were walking on air.

You adored her. And to think she harboured anything close to how you felt about her. You were beyond giddy.

Your lips met, it was perfection. The perfect release. You emotions were heightened and the affection you had both harboured for so long poured between you freely for the first time. It was a revelation, her lips gliding against yours. She pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. She wanted to know every part of you. Her lips were so soft, almost addictive. She tasted so good.

The cold nipped at your exposed skin but neither of you noticed it. You were warm. Filled to the brim with love. With such wanting that could finally be fulfilled. You clung to each other, whispering affection and your feelings between kisses as you started to slow and pull away. You looked at each other and smiled. Laughing slightly. She held your hands, squeezing them. That had been the most beautiful kiss either of you had ever had. You never wanted to part.

But you knew now, deep within, that you would never have to.

Your place was by her side.

For always.

[carelesscreativity]

DeathGlitch Comfort for TheMainAlpha: Commission for Ko-Fi

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

(SFW, Fluff, Comfort)

Error hated crying. He hated it because it hurt. He hated it because it made him feel weak, but worst of all, it was MESSY. He stared down tearfully at the pile of string in his hands, stemming from both of his eyes. He inhaled shakily. It was the worst. There was so much of it and it was even becoming too tangled for him to use later. He began to uselessly pick at it, in hopes of untangling it. If he was going to cause such a mess, he wanted to be able to use it for SOMETHING.

His hands were shaking as well. For a moment, he didn’t remember why he was crying until the second throb came ripping through his skull in the form of several voices talking at once. He held his head shakily, dropping the strings for a moment. He let out a shaky exhale. They were all calling his name. Well, they weren’t calling HIS name. It wasn’t his name anymore. They were calling for Sans. He twitched violently, squeezing his eyes shut again.

“I-I’m not... not... not anymore...” He was sputtering out shakily. He was pixelating wildly. It was causing a massive strain on his body to the point where his damaged soul was being revealed through the pixels. There was a sudden chill from behind him and instead of making him shiver, he relaxed a little. He was hunched over on his beanbag, the strings of his tears littering the white floor of the AntiVoid.

He heard something be set down before a dark figure drifted around and settled on the ground in front of him. He continued to weakly cry and he felt a slight tugging as clean, white bony fingers began to gently pick at the piles of string tangled beneath him. Reaper finally spoke in that soft, thrumming voice. “Would you like me to untangle these? I’m sure you want to use them for later.”

One of his hands was slowly tracing its way back up the string until it stopped just before his face. Error shakily looked up. Reaper had activated one of his glowing blue eyelights, illuminating the usually dark socket. He knew it made Error feel better when the glitch could tell Reaper was looking at him. “I’m going to touch your cheek, okay?” The god said quietly. Error stared at him, his body giving another small fizzle before he nodded.

He felt the chill before he felt the bone. Reaper’s cold fingers slowly left the string, tracing Error’s cheek. Error shivered a little, but pressed his cheek into Reaper’s hand. “Are they hurting you again? They’re daring to belittle you and bring you back to such a painful place?” Reaper sounded vaguely upset. Error stared at him. Reaper’s other hand came forward, slowly wrapping Error’s string around his finger. He was being careful.

He gently followed the string up to where it connected to Error’s eyesocket. He drifted a little closer, murmuring that he wanted to help. He leaned forward and Error jumped as he felt the reaper’s cold teeth against his own. He reached out and shakily wrapped his arms around the other’s neck. He felt a sudden, slight sting from just under his eyesocket.

He focused on the kiss, shaking quietly. He felt Reaper’s hands back around his waist. The god gently nudged him, giving a soft sigh. “You’re okay, Error... it’s okay...” He murmured quietly. Error leaned against him. “Do you want to talk about it?” Error paused and Reaper nodded quietly, leaning his head over to muzzle him. “I’ll give you a moment.”

“Th-Th-They keep calling for me... but that’s not me anymore... I’m not Sans anymore...” Error whispered shakily, leaning into Reaper’s shoulder. Everywhere the god touched gave a small fizzle, but Error seemed fine otherwise. Reaper was rubbing his back. He asked quietly for Error to lift his head. Error did so, shaking as he stared at him weakly. “I-I’m not him either... I-I’m no longer him... and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be your Gen-”

Reaper silenced him with another kiss. Error melted into it weakly. He could feel Reaper’s finger quietly winding up the string under his other eyesocket. “Focus on me.” Reaper murmured quietly. Error did and screwed his eyes shut, weakly gasping as he felt a second sharp sting from under his other eyesocket. He trembled, screwing his eyes shut. “No, no, don’t start crying again. I JUST disconnected them.”

Reaper sounded exasperated and a little amused. He also sounded warm. It made Error’s body tingle pleasantly. He realized that Reaper had managed to successfully remove the strings from under both of his eye sockets. “Error.” It was the first time that he’d heard his own name since his episode had started. Reaper set down the strings and reached out to cup his cheeks again.

Error stared at him, feeling those hands cup either side of his face. He instinctively reached up with his own hands and pressed them on top of Reaper’s. He felt like he was going to cry again. Since Reaper had arrived, the voices had died down. They were much more tolerable now, though he could still hear whispers of a name that was long dead to him. He couldn’t help but still feel like Reaper blamed him.

He could tell Reaper missed Geno sometimes. At least, that’s what he thought. He stared blankly at the god of death, who seemed to catch on, narrowing his eyelight. “Are you doubting yourself again?” He murmured softly. “I know that face.” He refrained himself from saying it was the same. Geno used to make the same face. Reaper’s fingers were absentmindedly picking and pulling at the tangled string beneath him.

He was beginning to wrap it up into a sort of yarn ball. Error finally noticed his scythe, which the other had placed a bit away. He trembled as he leaned back in the beanbag, asking why Reaper had even come. The god glanced up at him with that one, glowing blue ring. “You know I visit you every chance I get.” He rumbled quietly. He gave a small smile. “And you love it.”

“S-S-Sure...” Error muttered, looking away as he felt his face heat up a little. He was trembling quietly. Reaper stopped wrapping up the string for a moment, carefully placing it off to the side. He moved forward, settling next to Error’s legs as he leaned against the beanbag himself. He asked quietly if something else was wrong. Error wouldn’t look at him as he answered with a tremor in his glitching voice. “N-N-No...”

“Error...” Reaper said quietly. He moved so he was resting his head on Error’s femur, looking up at the other. He reached up as Error stared down at him with a flushed face. “Please talk to me. I’m not allowing you to shut yourself away ag-” He stopped himself and exhaled shakily. “Not anymore.” Error felt his soul twist painfully. He felt tears bubbling back up and he felt bad since Reaper had just managed to disconnect the strings.

“Y-Y-Y-You miss him, don’t you?” He asked, his voice glitching and broken with pain. Reaper stared at him for a moment before sighing. He ran his thumb over Error’s cheek again. He managed to wrap his hand around the back of Error’s head and pull him down. He pressed their teeth together and Error melted against him. Reaper sighed as he let Error pull back.

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t and you said you would kick my ass if I lied to you. I may miss him, but I know he’s gone and I’ve accepted it.” Reaper said quietly. “But now I have you. He may be gone, but I am not lonely. I do not grieve because you are here with me.” Error could feel his tears spilling over and Reaper sighed. “Guess I have to wait for you to stop crying to remove those, hm?”

Error blinked and mumbled for him to shut up as he wiped weakly at his face. It was a habit from when his tears didn’t become string the second they left his eyes. “Are you still lonely, Error?” Reaper asked. Error knew that tone. Reaper wanted him to be honest. Error trembled for a moment before looking away. He screwed his eyes shut and gave a weak nod.

He heard Reaper sigh and the other’s head was felt lifting from his femur. Error kept his eyes squeezed shut and jumped as he suddenly felt the beanbag shift next to him. He was pulled against Reaper’s chest, suddenly able to hear the beating of the god’s soul. He felt his cheeks heat up and he forced himself to open his eyes. Reaper stared down at him warmly. “I’ll stay a little longer for you. But you need to tell me.” He said quietly.

Error began to weakly protest and Reaper chuckled. “I would NEVER say no to spending a little more time with you, Error. I know that sitting in a void must drive you crazy.” He leaned down, pressing his teeth to the top of Error’s head. “Look up for me. It seems you’ve stopped crying again.” Error nodded weakly, tilting his head up for Reaper. Reaper leaned down, pressing their teeth together once again.

Error could feel the slight pinching under his eyesocket and jumped, blushing deeply as Reaper’s tongue suddenly pushed into his mouth. All of his attention was immediately diverted. His three tongues moved up to wrap around Reaper’s. Opening his eyes slightly, he could see the other’s face glowing a soft bright blue. He closed his eyes once again, making a tiny noise.

His multicolored fingers reached up and curled into the dense black fabric that made up Reaper’s robes. He felt another pinch under his other eyesocket, jumping a little. Finally, Reaper pulled away, his tongue still out as he panted quietly. Error stared at him, seeming just as out of breath. He realized both strings had been disconnected from under his eyesockets and he hadn’t even felt it. He stared at Reaper with wide eyes.

He watched as the god chuckled softly and moved away. He slowly untangled the rest of the pile, wrapping it up neatly for Error in a makeshift ball of yarn. He held it up, smiling. “Perfect for later use.” He said, setting it next to the beanbag. Error mumbled that he guessed so. Reaper kept his gaze on him before giving a soft chuckle. “Error.”

He summoned his scythe to his hand and pushed himself up so he was drifting above the ground. Error stared at him, his shoulders sinking in dismay. “Y-Y-You’re leaving already?” He asked weakly. What had all that been about staying with him?? He jumped as Reaper offered his hand.

“No, WE are. I think it’ll do you some good to get out of this void and I know a certain starry AU that you love.” Error stared at him before blushing and looking down. He reached up quietly, tangling his fingers with Reaper’s. He asked weakly if he had work. Reaper blinked before laughing and giving a shrug. “Probably, but I think you’re a little more important.”

Error weakly rolled his eyes at him before pushing himself to his feet. He watched as Reaper opened a portal to Outertale and Error felt a small tremble in his bones, his hand tightening on Reaper’s. He scrunched himself up into his scarf a little. He didn’t want to admit how overjoyed he was. Though, based on Death’s smile, he was sure the bastard could already sense it.

[seanfalco]

Want | Priest!Kay x Reader {Part II}

Fandom: Season of the Witch Modern!AU Word Count: 2k Warnings: Catholicism, Religious imagery, Angst, Infidelity  (I’m also not Catholic, so hopefully I haven’t made any glaring errors.)

masterlist

He thought it would get easier as the weeks wore on, but Kay grimaced as he stepped behind the pulpit to face the congregation, his gaze instantly seeking out [y/n], her fiance’s arm resting across her shoulders, and he had to admit to himself that it was quite the opposite -- it was only getting harder to see her with him.   To keep his thoughts pure.

Their first lesson together had been… awkward to say the least, but by the second one they’d almost fallen back into the easy friendship of their teen days, which was both a relief and a worry to Kay.

If they kept getting more comfortable around each other, who knew what would happen then?

It was already going to be hard enough for him to watch her marry someone else when not so long ago that was what he’d wanted.  Growing close to her again would only make it that much harder.

When he’d broken up with her and left for seminary school like his father had wanted he thought he’d never see her again -- that even though it wasn’t what he’d wanted, that time would heal all wounds and that throwing himself into his studies would distract him enough to forget his feelings for her, and for a time it had, but it didn’t last.

He still sometimes woke in a cold sweat, their breakup haunting his dreams, the hurt look on her face as he’d turned away wrenching at his heart.  

They’d been so young and it had all happened so fast, their feelings too great, too overwhelming, too soon.

And he’d ran.

Only to find regret waiting for him, but by then it was too late and now… now he’d have to live with that regret.

He’d never have [y/n], and he’d never be a good priest.  How could he give all of himself to God if someone else still held his heart?

——

“So, how was your week?” Kay asked, hanging up his robe as [y/n] took her usual seat across from his desk, the little notebook she’d been scribbling notes in during their lessons resting in her lap.

He knew that she’d never been religious before, not outright atheist, but definitely agnostic.  However, during their lessons she was attentive and diligent -- always asking questions and taking notes.  He just wasn’t sure how much of that was from a true willingness to learn or merely out of respect for him.

“It wasn’t bad,” she answered with a small shrug.  “Nothing much happened.  This is honestly the highlight of my week,” she admitted, her eyes flicking up to his meaningfully.

Somehow Kay doubted it was because of church, but he’d be lying if he said that this wasn’t the highlight of his week as well…

“I’m glad our lessons mean that much to you,” he murmured, fighting the urge to loosen his collar.  “Uhm, before we get started,” he continued quickly, forcing his hands to still in front of him on his desk.  He’d definitely caught [y/n]’s little smirk at his words, and was trying to ignore it.  

“Why don’t you tell me a little about Matthew.  How you two met,” Kay suggested, trying to keep his voice neutral, but [y/n] looked up at him sharply, suspicion in her calculating gaze.

It was purely in his interest as their Reverend, he told himself.  He wasn’t asking for any other reason.

Frowning for a moment, [y/n] cleared her throat.  “We met through our parents,” she explained slowly, her expression not exactly what one would expect a newly engaged woman to wear as she spoke of her betrothed, and Kay’s heart constricted.

She doesn’t look happy, he observed as she told him how their parents had thought it would be a good match.

Don’t be ridiculous, Kay told himself firmly, ignoring that first thought.  That’s just wishful thinking because part of you doesn't want her to get married, to lay with anyone else, to look at them with love in her eyes, when it should be you.

Shaking loose his thoughts, Kay realized he’d missed much of what she’d said, but what he had caught hadn’t exactly sounded romantic, and he fought against losing himself once more to memories of their time together before it had all come crashing down.

Of late night phone calls that neither wanted to end, leading to Kay listening to [y/n] sleep over the phone, wishing she were next to him instead of her own bed.  Of handwritten love letters passed discreetly through lockers and left in textbooks, clandestine make out sessions during cut classes, and holding hands as he walked her home every day.  Of their awkward, if sweet, first time that had led to a second time shortly after, full of laughter and affirmations of love.

Did she love Matthew like she’d loved him?

“Kay…?”

“Hmm, I’m sorry, I lost my thoughts for a moment there,” he admitted sheepishly, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious where his thoughts had slipped to.

“That’s alright, it’s not exactly the most riveting story,” [y/n] murmured with a wry twist of her lips.  “Let’s, uhm, let’s get on with the lesson, shall we?” she asked and Kay was only too relieved to agree, not exactly keen to dwell any more on the topic of [y/n]’s fiance.

——

In order to speed things along to keep on schedule for your swiftly approaching wedding, Kay had suggested meeting twice a week for your lessons, and you’d only been all too happy to agree.

However, it was getting harder and harder to keep him off your mind, finding yourself thinking of him during every spare moment, even on the rare occasions Matthew wanted to have sex.  The night before, you’d nearly cried out the wrong name, Kay’s name practically springing to your lips, and disappointment twisted like a knife when you’d opened your eyes to find it wasn’t him hovering over you.

So it was to your great dismay that today’s lesson was about confession.

“We went over all this in principle last time, but this time we’ll do a practice run,” Kay was saying as he led you down to the sanctuary, blessedly empty save for the two of you.  Stopping in front of the confessional, your stomach in your throat, you hesitated, Kay noticing your reluctance.

“Are you nervous, [y/n]?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” you murmured, your nerves at an all time high.

“I promise it’s not as daunting as it seems,” Kay murmured, resting his hand on the small of your back, ushering you toward the door, a reassuring smile on his face.

As you took your seat atop the hard wooden bench inside you fidgeted as you waited for Kay to join you on the other side of the latticed partition.

This would be so much easier if you didn’t know the priest.

“Okay, [y/n],” Kay said as he took his seat, his voice soothing.  “Remember, the Sacrament of Confession is between you, me, and God.  I cannot disclose anything you tell me in here, to anyone,” he reminded you and you nodded, though it didn’t exactly make you feel any better.  He would still know about it.

“Alright my child, you may begin,” Kay prompted and you bit your lip, taking a steadying breath.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you began, reciting the words he’d taught you.  “I uhm, I’ve sinned, well… a lot, and uhh, recently, in fact,” you muttered, looking down at your hands.  

With the partition between you, you couldn’t really see Kay, just his outline, but you could feel his gaze on you.

“Well, I’ve… masterbated… and I use birth control regularly, which is a big no-no, I guess,” you said, giving a nervous laugh before continuing.   “I’ve had premarital sex, which… I mean, you know about that,” you added, clearing your throat, reluctant to admit more.

“Go on, you’re doing well,” Kay urged gently and you nodded, continuing.

“I… I’ve coveted, and lied, I’ve taken the Lord’s name in vain and I’ve…” your voice faltered and failed.  “I’ve--” you tried again, taking another breath and swallowing, your throat suddenly very dry.

“I’ve had thoughts of an impure nature about someone other than my fiance,” you admitted.  “--About someone I should not be.  Someone I thought I’d never see again.”

Pausing, it was obvious who you meant, and your eyes flicked up to the partition where you felt Kay’s were and you wondered just what sort of expression he was wearing.

“And now that I have… seen him again, I can’t seem to get him off my mind,” you murmured.

For a long moment silence stretched and you wished you could take it all back.

“[y/n].” Kay’s voice wavered before strengthening.  “That is… highly inappropriate,” he said hesitantly, his words like a slap to the face, though you knew he was right.

“Don’t you think I know that?” you exclaimed.  “I’ve tried to stop, believe me!  But I fucking can’t and I--I don’t know if I want to,” you cried, frantically blinking back tears, your stomach churning.  “I miss you, Kay, and every moment we’re together feels like torture.  I… I thought I could do this, but I can’t.”

“[y/n]--”

Before he could say more, you pushed off the bench and threw open the door, suddenly feeling lightheaded and needing air, Kay right on your heels.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about me too,” you exclaimed, turning to him, frustration and anger lacing your words.  Kay watched you with an unreadable expression.  “I’ve seen it in your eyes, Kay.  You always had the worst poker face.  Don’t tell me there’s nothing there,”you insisted, almost pleading and he looked away, blinking rapidly.

“[y/n], don’t…” he said, unable to quite look at you.  “You know we can’t happen.”

“You didn’t answer me,” you pressed, taking a step toward him, desperation filling your voice now, your stomach twisting til you felt you were going to be sick.  

“It… it doesn’t matter,” Kay replied sadly, shaking his head.  “I’m a man of the cloth now.  I’m committed to the Church and you -- you’re engaged to be married, [y/n]!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking as he lifted his arms only to let them fall helplessly to his sides again, his hands curling into fists.

“What we had was a long time ago.  We’ve both moved on, and I won’t be the one to break up your marriage.  I don’t want to be the reason,” he insisted, though it looked like it pained him to say it.

“Yeah well, I never wanted this!” you cried, your voice clearly shaking now and you couldn’t keep the tears from your eyes any longer, feeling them fall down your cheeks.  “You were the one that pushed me away and then… then you ran away where I couldn’t follow!”

Taking a shaky breath, you scrubbed at the dampness streaking your face.  “You want my confession, Father?  I still have feelings for you, they never went away,” you admitted, breathing heavily, your chest constricting with panic.

When Kay didn’t speak, his emerald eyes pained, you continued, grasping at straws.

“Is this truly what you want?” you asked, your voice hoarse.

“It is,” he said softly, carefully not meeting your gaze.  “Even if I… harboured feelings for you, I cannot act on them, so please don’t put me in that position, [y/n].”

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes rising to yours once more, he shook his head sadly, his long curls shivering.

“Besides, you don’t want me,” he murmured.  “I can’t give you the life you deserve.”

Deafening silence filled the church and you stood there in disbelief.

If only you’d kept your mouth shut, you thought angrily -- angry at yourself, because you knew, you knew deep down you couldn’t have just kept going that way, lying to yourself, to him.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to lift your chin.

“You’re wrong.”

When you turned, Kay took a panicked step toward you, reaching out before you pulled away.

“Where are you going?  [y/n]?” he called after you, but you didn’t stop, heading for the doors.

“I’m sorry, Kay.  I can’t do this.”

Without another word you yanked open the handle and slipped out of the church before he could convince you to stay.

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

Everything Tag List: @magic-multicolored-miracle​​ @midnightseance​​ @etherealsxnder​​ @iamsexytrash​​ @orions-nebula​​ @slutforrobbiebro​​ @the-freckled-luba​​ @robertsscumbag​​

[broadstbroskis]

five times you shared a bed with your best friend plus one time you didn’t | matthew tkachuk

lol so @slimskjei-dy requested the prompt 16. We’ve been sharing a bed since we were little so why is this weird now? from a list i put out a couple days ago to write blurbs for and this spiraled out of control, so here’s nearly 4k.

one

The Tkachuk’s move into the house next door to your family the summer before you start preschool and at the ripe age of three, you are too young to have any idea what going with your mom to drop off “welcome to the neighborhood” brownies is going to mean for your future.

Really, it likely has more to do with the fact that “welcome to the neighborhood” brownies turned into a glass of “welcome to the neighborhood” wine between your mom and Chantal Tkachuk, which turned into a bottle of wine while you and Matthew played in the backyard with Brady’s chubby little baby legs trying his hardest to keep up. 

By the time Keith arrived home from a midday skate session, with your dad awkwardly following behind, babbling about how your mom had just planned on dropping something off quickly but was still missing, their friendship was basically cemented. Chantal and your mom did everything together. And your dads’ friendship didn’t take long to form after that. 

Which meant you and Matty were right there with them.

But neither of you cared. You’d settled quickly into a friendship, just like your parents had, where you’d play hockey with him and he’d begrudgingly play soccer with you, and you both pretended you had no idea what Brady was talking about when he ran to tattle that you were ganging up on him and not letting him play.

There’s countless pictures of the two of you growing up, getting into all kinds of trouble, but then also, of the quieter moments too. Sitting too close to the TV watching movies, eagerly waiting by the door for Keith to come home from a road trip with souvenirs, the naps curled up around each other in one of your beds. 

“The quietest twenty minutes of the day.” Keith continues to joke, anytime one of those pictures resurfaces.

two

You wince at the sound of glass crashing behind you and decide the best course of action is to keep moving forward with your mission to find Matthew. Whichever hockey bro of Matthew’s house this is can take care of that; it’s not your job.

Besides, the room is spinning from the cheap beer and booze you’d been drinking all night since the two of you arrived at this party, and you’re pretty sure it’s a bad idea to go near glass.

You find Matthew in the kitchen, with a few of his St. Louis hockey bros, a couple of them guys that you’re still friends with even after he’d left to go join the NTDP, as well as a few faces you don’t recognize. You slip up into their circle, sliding under Matty’s arm when it lifts to wrap around your shoulders, grateful for the solid body to lean against.

The room is really starting to spin.

“You okay?” He asks, ignoring whoever’s speaking.

“I don’t think I can go home tonight.” You admit.

He laughs. “Text your mom and tell her you’re staying with me. Big Walt and Chantal are at a tourney with Brady and Taryn; nobody’s home.”

“You don’t think she knows your parents aren’t home?” You scoff, but you’re already pulling out your phone and carefully drafting the text, making sure to avoid any spelling errors that might give your drunkenness away.

“Yeah, but she can’t prove what she hasn’t seen.” Matty winks at you and you roll your eyes.

“Is that what you told your mom after you left her a three minute voicemail at 3am last month?” You chirp at him, smiling at the instant laughter from the friends around you and accepting a fist bump from Luke Kunin.

That line of chirping continues for a few minutes, until Matty manages to turn it around on one of the boys, and then it dissolves into a free for all before they’re all just laughing at each other.

By the time the giggling ends, you’re about three seconds away from falling asleep on Matt’s shoulder, and it’s his nudge that wakes you. “You ready?” You nod, joining him in making goodbyes to your friends, and then following him out the door to begin the walk back toward your houses.

The fresh air does some good to sober you up and you feel marginally less dizzy by the time you and Matt make it to his room. He throws you a t-shirt to change into and you fall into bed after changing, waiting for him to join you, eyes shutting the second you feel the bed settle beside you.

three

The night before Matty’s due to leave for Buffalo for the draft, your phone buzzes with a text from him. You’re expecting more of the same that you’ve been exchanging all day with him-in various group chats with your friends, at a barbeque with both your families, when the two of you were chatting with Brady while you hid in the far corner with the beers you snuck while Taryn and your sister were off doing their thing.

It’s not. Let me in the text says, so you shove the blankets down and make your way downstairs to open the door for him.

“Shh.” You tell him. “They’re all asleep.”

“It’s 3am, of course they are!” He whispers back.

“Well so was I until you woke me up!” You start walking back toward your room, knowing he’ll follow.

Matthew doesn’t speak again until the two of you are in your room, the door is closed, and he’s lying on his side to face you in your bed. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“You can’t possibly be nervous.” You whisper back, knowing he’s talking about the draft. He shrugs and you reach your hand out to shove his shoulder down, allowing it to rest there. “Matty.” He blinks at you a few times as you think of what to say next. “You’re gonna go somewhere and you’re going to be great. One of these teams is going to love you enough to draft you and everyone after them is going to be mad they didn’t have the chance to and almost everyone before them is going to be mad they didn’t end up picking you and you’re going to go off to whatever city does and forget all about me back here.”

Matthew wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him so you move your hand from the top of his shoulder around to rub at the blade gently. “First of all, that’ll never happen. You’re stuck with me forever.”

You nod seriously. “Somebody’s got to put up with you.”

He pokes you in the side for that one and you have to bite your lip to keep in the squeal of laughter. “Second of all, almost? Almost everyone is going to me mad they didn’t pick me?”

“Leafs got first pick to get Auston! I just don’t think they’re going to regret that!” He pokes you again and you don’t manage to hide the squeal this time. “Matty! Everyone’s sleeping!”

“You should be nicer to me.” He tells you, once you settle down.

“I should be nicer to you? You wake me up at 3am to talk you off the ledge and I should be nicer to you?”

He nods, pulling you even closer to bury his face in your hair. “Always.”

You laugh, the sound muffled into his chest now. “Are we all good now?”

“Hmm?” He says, sounding sleepy already.

“Never mind.” You tell him, rubbing his back again. “Good night, Matty.”

“G’night.”

four

Calgary is a thousand times more incredible than you’d ever imagined. You’d been teasing Matty about being stuck in a frozen wasteland, sending him snaps from sunny gamedays at Mizzou and laughing anytime you get one in return with snow in the picture.

There’s snow on the ground when you arrive in December, fresh out of finals, and still feeling both the mental exhaustion from your exams and the hangover from a day of binge drinking with your friends immediately after they’d ended. You’ll never fly hungover again; the next time you do this, you’ll leave yourself a day of rest between exams and flying up to visit your best friend, since you know you won’t stop drinking earlier.

College is making you smarter already!

Matthew actually laughs when he meets you in the pick up lane, like puts his head on the steering wheel and has to hold off on driving. He gets honked at by the car behind him. “Your laugh is making my headache worse.” You whine.

“So I take it you don’t want the bottle of wine I bought for us to split tonight?”

You look over at him suspiciously. “What kind of wine?”

He laughs again, but softer this time. “Atta girl.”

It’s a red blend, a favorite of the two of you, but a much nicer one than you’ve ever bought before. You let out a low whistle as Matthew places the order for dinner. “Suddenly you’ve got some cash flow and Barefoot’s too good?”

“Hell yeah! Wait until you see what kind of vodka I got for us for Saturday.”

You perk up. “What’s on Saturday?”

“Party with the team before my parents come in.”

You laugh, accepting the glass of wine he pours for you. “You don’t think Big Walt would want to come to the party?”

Matty gives you a look. “I know that’s exactly what would happen and that’s why I told them to come Sunday.”

“Smart thinking.” You admit.

“See, who needs college?” He teases, which settles the two of you into your familiar teasing and banter while you wait for the food to arrive. 

It isn’t too long after dinner and Netflix that you and Matthew are heading to bed, pressing yourself as close as you can to suck up as much warmth that he’s radiating. “Fuck, your feet are cold.” Matty mutters as you giggle and press your toes into his calf.

“Haven’t you missed me?” You sling your leg over his for maximal toe digging, laughing when he jumps.

“I guess.” He says, but his tone says Absolutely.

five

“So what are your plans for after graduation?”Ashley, Sean Monahan’s girlfriend (and soon-to-be fiancee if Matty was to be believed) looks at you during a stoppage of play late in the third.

“God, don’t remind me.” You groan. You’d wrapped the fall semester of your senior year a couple days ago and then taken off to Calgary in what had become your annual post-finals trip. It’d be the last one you ever took, with your final semester of college looming over your head. 

Ashley grins. She’d become a close friend of yours over all your trips to visit Matthew, even flying down to St. Louis last season when the Flames were in town and spending a weekend with some of the other girls visiting you at school afterwards. “Just come hang out up here forever.”

You burst into laughter. “And live where?”

She gives you a look, like it’s the most obvious thing ever. “With Matt?”

“Oh my god, you’re serious.” It takes a full minute for you to recover. Play has resumed, there’s a minor scrum on the ice in front of the two of you but you barely even notice, too shocked by Ashley’s words.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because why would I ever?”

“Because you already do.” She says, with more patience than you’ve possessed in your entire life combined, and then laughs at the look on your face. “YN, what you two have is so special! To fall in love with your best friend at age three and still feel that way is amazing! If Sean and I can look at each the way you and Matt do after twenty years, we could only be so lucky.”

“We’re not in love.” You deny. “Matty and I-we’re just-we’re not.”

Ashley bites her lip, but doesn’t push it any further. “Alright.” She agrees, and thankfully, the game ends there, so you’re able to just gather your things with her and make your way down toward the family room to meet the boys.

But you can’t get her words out of your head as you and Matthew arrive back to his place and start getting ready to go to bed. You move around each other with a practiced ease, handing him the toothpaste before he even asks for it and accepting the oversized sweatshirt he passes to you, somehow knowing that you’re extra chilly tonight. 

Lying next to him in bed, the same way you have for nearly twenty years, suddenly feels suffocating. You roll onto your side, hoping for some room to breath, but now it just feels awkward; this isn’t how you sleep.

You sit up, ditching the sweatshirt. Maybe you’re just too warm. Lying back and pulling the covers back up does nothing to solve that problem, and actually, you’re shivering, so you sit back up and yank the sweatshirt back on.

“Could you settle down?” Matty mumbles, pulling you into his side the second that you’re flat again. His arm rests on your waist, thumb in the dip of your hip, a position it’s been in many times, but suddenly you think you’re having trouble breathing. You open your mouth to tell him this, but he presses a kiss to your temple and says, “Relax, just sleep.”

You don’t sleep a wink the entire night.

plus one

“What do you mean you’re not coming?” Dylan, a good friend of both yours and Matthew’s, is usually one of the most upbeat people you know, so the sound of disappointment coming throughout your phone actually makes you wince. “YN?”

“I just-” You hesitate. You’d have to leave right now in order to get to St. Louis in time to make the Skills Competitions, and even then you might be pushing it, and things were still weird for you with Matty, as evidenced by how things were between the two of you when he came home for his short Christmas break. And things were weird. Everyone noticed- your families, your friends, Matthew. The two of you had spoken only once since, in the group chat where Matthew had texted an invite to your group chat to come home for the weekend for the All Star Weekend and you’d noncommittally responded wow that’d be awesome. “I’m super busy.” You finish lamely.

Dylan sighs. “Look, YN, I don’t know what the fuck is going on between you and Matt and I don’t really care. It’s not my business. But I know he’d really want you there no matter what’s going on and I know you’ll regret not going if you don’t.”

You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. He’s right. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Dyl.”

“Hell yeah,” Dylan cheers.

By the time you make it to St. Louis, you have to race to meet your friends in your seats and the cheer they send up is poorly timed, but it does make you smile. “Shitty seats.” You accept the bottle of Bud Light someone passes you.

Dylan laughs and points up to the giant platform next to you guys. “He’s going to be shooting from there in a while.”

“Alright.” You nod. “I guess this is acceptable then.”

It’s a good while before Matty and the rest of the guys participating in the Shooting Stars event start making their way up, but it’s nice to catch up with your other friends while you wait. If you got a big cheer when you rolled in, the one that goes up when Matthew walks by is deafening (and boostered by the friends of Brady’s that are sitting right behind you guys). The two of them look over at you guys, grinning already, and you see it in Matthew’s face when he spots you, the smirk softening a little and his eyes locking on you.

You’d read about moments where time stands still but it’d never actually happened to you until now. It’s like the crowd doesn’t exist around you, like you don’t actually need to breathe. The only thing that matters is the moment in time when your eyes meet Matty’s. 

And that moment’s broken by Brady shoving him forward. 

As you watch Matthew throughout the entirety of the last event, you know you’re screwed. You’ll get through this weekend, go back to school, and get over these thoughts by the time summer comes. Everything will be back to normal by the time you see Matty again.

In the meantime, you do your best to avoid him once the Skills Competition ends and you join everyone at the after party on the rooftop bar of the hotel. It’s easier than you think it would be to do. When Matty’s talking with some of your local friends, you find yourself catching up with both sets of your parents. When he starts making his way toward your parents, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You see him make a beeline towards the bar, so you dart off in the opposite direction, where Brady is talking with a couple of his Atlantic Division teammates and push yourself in between the height of him and Auston Matthews, which seems like a safe spot to hide.

“YN!” Auston grins, throwing his hands up in the air, in a drunken greeting that you’d love to be more lowkey.

You reach up and grab them, yanking them down. “Listen, I know it’s been a while since we’ve last hung out and all, and I know from the way you talk and dress and everything about you that this is a hard thing for you to comprehend, but I’m really going to need some subtlety from you.” Next to him, Mitch and Freddie burst into laughter. “Down low, boo. Down low.”

Auston is laughing as well and you remember that while the times you’ve spent with him have been few and far between, unable to visit Matthew as frequently during his time with the NTDP as you have been in Calgary, they’ve certainly been memorable...so moments like this are unshocking to him, to say the least.

They don’t even faze Brady, who’d grown up with both you and Matthew, and is merely looking at you with an entirely too familiar smirk and a raised brow. “What’s the subtlety for, YN?”

“Fuck off, Brady.” You flip your middle finger up at him quickly but it’s just enough time for the entire group of hockey players around you to pounce. You really should have known better.

“I knew something was up!” Auston grins.

“Nothing’s up.” You deny, very poorly.

“Really?” Brady grins. “‘Cause Matt’s like right there.” He points. “On his way here. So I guess if nothing’s wrong, you can-” He starts immediately laughing when you shove your way out of them.

You think you manage to lose your best friend by pushing through a large group of players and family from the Metro and Central divisions and throwing yourself out the door to the outdoor patio, which is mostly empty, despite the unseasonably warm winter St. Louis has been experiencing. You can see Brady, Auston, and Quinn laughing together through the glass door, but Matty’s nowhere to be found, and you sit down on the closest bench, taking a minute to just breathe.

“You gotta tell me what I did.” The voice scares you, but it shouldn’t, because you really should have known better than to think that Matty wouldn’t be able to find you.

When you look over at Matty on the bench beside you, you can’t think of another time he’s looked this devastated. Maybe that semi-final loss in World Juniors? Maybe? It’s all over his face and you can’t just leave him like this any longer. “It’s not you.” You tell him, holding back tears. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it!” Matthew says, frustratedly.

“You can’t fix it!” You sniffle, trying to scoot away from him, to give yourself some distance, and feeling the tears start to fall when he closes that space again. “You can’t go back and stop Ashley from making me realize that I’m in love with you, okay? So you can’t fix this and I just-I need some time, Matty! Okay? I need some time!”

“Don’t be fucking stupid.” He breathes, like he’s only just recovered the ability to talk, which, he might have, and you tilt your head to meet his eyes, which puts you in a perfect position considering he’s already leaning toward you.

Matthew fumbles for a second, his hand reaching for your cheek and catching your ear instead with you turning, but he recovers quickly, stroking gently down the side of your face. You gasp, the kiss entirely unexpected, and Matty takes the opportunity to tug on your lip gently before pulling away and you let out a whimper at the loss of contact.

He smirks.

“Don’t be smug.” You shove at his shoulder.

“Don’t be stupid.” He repeats, pulling you closer. “How could you ever think I wouldn’t be in love with you?”

“I didn’t want to ruin us.” You tell him softly. “But I am willing to concede I was wrong.”

Matty grins. “Sure were. Can do this anytime I want now.” He kisses you again, leaving you just as breathless as before.

You suppose, at some point, that’ll start to wear off, but as the two of you trade lazy kisses on the rooftop, you can’t imagine that point ever coming. This is perfection, this is the piece of your relationship you didn’t even know was missing coming together, this is-

-Brady knocking on the window?

What?

You blink again, realizing where you’re at. Still on the rooftop bench, with your arm wrapped around Matty’s neck, your legs draped over his lap, and your face tucked into his shoulder. Matthew’s arms are wrapped around your waist, holding you close, and his head rests on top of yours. Somehow still asleep through all the banging Brady’s been doing. 

“Matty.” You poke him awake.

“What?” He groans, sitting up.

“Brady.” Matthew looks over at the window, where Brady is still gesturing that it’s time to leave, with a very smug grin on his face.  Matthew lifts one hand off your waist to flip his brother off, allowing you to climb off. 

“You couldn’t have answered any of the texts we sent you?” Brady asks, once you step inside, but he doesn’t sound annoyed at all, still looking between the two of you with the biggest grin on his face.

Matthew shrugs. “Must have fallen asleep.”

“Bullshit.”

“You just saw us!”

Brady rolls his eyes, knowingly. “Just kiss her already.”

Matty grins. “Gladly.” And then he’s pressing a heated kiss against your lips, looping his arm around your waist, and it’s all you can do to grip his arm with one hand to keep yourself standing and flip off the crowd around you with your other as whoever’s left at this after party burst into applause and wolf-whistles.

[emsvegetables]

“YOU SAID YOU LIKE HOGWARTS SO; headcanons for an artistic but carefree ravenclaw reader with a slytherin (or if you don’t feel like it whatever house you headcanon them as) tendou satori and/or kuroo tetsuro? The reader is the type that is friends with everyone but still likes being alone too. How would they meet, how would they become lovers etc! Thank you🥺”

AHHH this is so cute!!!! i love this WiEORIRIF

Tendou:

* OH MY.

* this man??

* 100% a slytherin.

* like??! HE LOVES TO RILE PEOPLE UP WDYM HES NOT A SLYTHERIN.

* n e ways.

* red-hair boi here was walking through the halls one day, looking out of the window, when he sees someone by the lake.

* it’s freezing??? in this weather???? who in their right mind would be by the lake????

* and he really wants to know who’s crazy enough to be by the lake. so he heads down there too AHAHAHAH

* bruh you’re just peacefully painting on your easel when you hear someone ask you,” what are you doing?”

* FJRKFKFIDK THAT CAUSED YOU to accidentally paint the wrong part, and you ignore the person and mumble a spell to undo the error.

* “can you not hear me?” he thinks you’re hard of hearing and moves closer to you and realises that you’re painting!!!!!

* it’s beautiful. swirls of colours and it just looks so pretty.

* “that’s really nice,” he says out, and you turn to smile at his compliment, but then he realises that you’re even prettier.

* “i’m Tendou.”

* “i’m (Y/N).”

* you stick out a hand for him to shake, and he laughs and presses a finger onto your palm.

* “aren’t you cold, miss ravenclaw?”

* you roll your eyes and return to your painting, and he watches you as you dab on the easel artfully and paint another part of your painting.

* HE FINDS YOU SO INTRIGUING AND THATS HOW YOU MEET!!!!

* anyways from then on he’s strolling up to you in the halls, and slinging an arm over your shoulders and asking you whether you’ve painted anything recently.

* he asks you that everyday.

* everyday in breakfast, he’ll come up to you while you’re talking to your friends and ask that exact question.

* bruh why he doing this AHAHAH

* but then you realise he’s genuinely interested in your work and what you do, and you get a little happy at that.

* and from then onwards he’s the first person you show your art to!!!!!!! and he always grins and tells you that he wants to pay you to paint all his paintings in the future.

* “why do you even want to paint pictures of yourself.”

* “bc i’m going to be rich, (Y/N).”

* “and?”

* “rich people need paintings of themselves.”

* “how does that even work—“

* when his birthday rolls around, you ACTUALLY paint a picture of him LOL

* but it’s not only of him, but it’s the two of you together with a picture that you took with him a while back!!!!

* he’s pleasantly surprised when he unwraps the gift, and he grins at you with that smile of his when he sees the full painting in all it’s glory.

* and then he presses a kiss on your cheek, and like the attention-starved ravenclaw you are, you shy away from his touch.

* IT WAS BY ACCIDENT FIFIFIFIFIFIF

* anyway one day one of his slytherin friends comes up to you to tell you he hung that painting by his bedside.

* and that’s kinda cute ngl.

* so you’re painting by the lake one day, he comes to join you, like he always does after your first encounter with him!!!!!

* “miss ravenclaw, you’re going to catch a cold.”

* and he casts a warming charm on you.

* ieififfiririrk

* you take that chance to try out what one of your gryffindor friends told you to say.

* “if i’m cold, you can always warm me up.”

* you try winking after that, but it fails miserably and you wink with both eyes. aka blinking.

* he stares at you, before he bursts out laughing.

* “THATS A TOTAL GRYFFINDOR THING TO SAY YOU NERD!!!!!”

* and then he’s smiling at you and initiating a very hot makeout session.

* 🥵🥵

* n e ways now Tendou’s your man!!!!!!!!!!

Kuroo:

* i’ve said it before and i’m gonna say it again.

* this man?

* a slytherin.

* HES SO CUNNING FIRIRIOSOWOW

* moving on!!!!

* he probably meets you when he’s heading out of the great hall after breakfast to go grab some books he left in the dorm, and he sees you lugging your super big easel to wherever you’re going.

* “yo lady what are you doing?”

* “huh?”

* you poke your head out from behind the super big easel and Kuroo just decided: ITS TIME TO MARRY A RAVENCLAW.

* so he decides to win you over.

* so he moves forward to help you carry that super big easel.

* “where you going? i’ll help you bring it there.”

* but you’re going to your secret painting spot that you don’t want anyone to find out.

* “uh—“

* jfirotoofofo HOW DO YOU SAY IT WITHOUT SOUNDING MEAN

* “i’m going somewhere that’s a secret.”

* “YOU’RE GOING OUT OF SCHOOL? TAKE ME WITH YOU!!!!”

* he wants to sneak out of school so bad and you laugh as you see the excitement on his face.

* then you bring him to a little alcove you found and you see the excitement drop from his face.

* LOL

* “oh. this place is pretty.”

* it is.

* but he expected to go out of school, uk??

* anyway you start on painting and Kuroo decides to skive of classes to watch you paint.

* but man he’s babbling off while you’re painting and you tell him to be quiet at one point.

* he blinks and smirks at you, but mimes zipping up his mouth.

* and when you’re done painting one part??? he thinks it looks AMAZING.

* fieidifif he thinks he’s in love.

* n e WAYS

* from then on he’s waving to you in the halls. and he’s helping you carry your books back to your common room when he sees you walk out of the library laden with them.

* he also insists you send him a HOWLER anytime you want to paint bc he wants to see you paint!!!!!

* he ducks into the secret alcove every once in a while to see if you’re there, and he smirks at you when you are.

* he thinks he’s behind suave, but he’s a big dork.

* for your birthday he buys you some charmed paintbrushes that can paint the colour you want it too.

* you saw an ad for it a while back, and told your ravenclaw friends that it was so. EXPENSIVE.

* but this guy buys it for you for your birthday????

* YOU CANNOT ACCEPT IT.

* “no take-backsies,” he grins at you, raising his hands up in surrender,” you’ve already infected it with your germs.”

* ASKWIDIFIFI

* one day you’re just painting and he’s sitting by the side watching you and doing his potions essay.

* and he just casually goes,

* “hey, do you want to go to the next hogsmeade trip with me?”

* EKEIFIFK

* you lose your brush and it clatters to the floor.

* “w-what.”

* “i’m asking you out,” he says, and shoots you a WINK.

* it’s greasy just like him AHAHAH KDG

* “what.”

* “merlin, for a ravenclaw, you can’t understand what i’m saying?”

* WKRIFIFJ YOU DO UNDERSTAND YOU’RE JUST SHOCKED.

* so you just nod dumbly at him, and he quirks an eyebrow up.

* “a yes to that date or a yes to you not understanding my question?”

* ITS A YES TO THAT DATE OBVS

* fkekdkfkdk okay the date goes wonderful and he buys you a pack of sugar quills and he says,” so you can continue being sweet.”

* that SMOOTH BASTARD.