#lovingly nicknamed 'the murder brothers'

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

I feel like i should apologize for this one...

titleless version cause it's killing me that they look kind of cool for a shitpost that was giving me psychic damage

[gretavanlace]

Valtava

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, pain during sex (this is handled gently and lovingly) language, dirty talk, etc.

Everyone thank our dear @jake-kiszkas-smirk for the scene where his head is resting on her stomach. I’ll say no more to avoid spoiling it, but it’s delicious and it was her idea that she so kindly left in my hands. Thank you, you filthy genius, you. I love you madly. Also, I no longer remember who to credit for this pic of Josh, it’s been in my camera roll so long. But I couldn’t not use it for this…that’s dangerously close to sacrilege.

“This scene right here,” Josh speaks over Ray Liotta’s musings, one arm stretched across the back of his couch, the other bent to stroke his thumb along your jawline, absently “This is where Scorsese really stretches his wings. Here we are, watching the heinous discovery of murder after murder while Layla, a song about love and lust, lulls us. We feel both safe and shaky.”

His fingers now wind through your hair, relaxed and warm, with your head in his lap. “I think it serves as a reminder that even ugly can dip its toe into the waters of beautiful, if you squint hard enough.”

He pauses and talks over his own stream of thoughts, “Well, most ugly things, anyway. Someone saw these murders as a necessary evil. Something to ensure the world they had built for themselves, for their families, stayed clean. Someone went home and slept a little easier knowing there was one less heart beating out there ready to turn state's witness on them.”

You nod and hope for him to keep going. The way his mind works fascinates you, as does the unique lilt of his tone, and the excitement that sharpens his gaze when he is ruminating on something that really spins the wheel for the hamster in his brain.

Catering to your unspoken wish, he carries on, “And maybe even the victims were in on the method to the madness, y’know? They chose the life they chose, they understood how quickly loyalty and love can shape- shift into survival and self preservation. Layla helps the audience understand. It marries the beauty and the bloodshed for the people in the seats.” he shakes his head in wonder. “It’s fucking genius.��

“Thought your brother was the big Marty fan?” You ask, studying the perfect cupid's bow of his lips from below.

“Jake?” His eyes are on the screen, but his focus is on you. “Tarantino. I dig the use of his nickname, though. Marty. It makes it seem as if you have him over for dinner regularly.”

“Maybe I do.” You tease.

You earn a smile, but still not his gaze. “And what do you serve?”

Adopting a tone of nonchalance, you shrug, “Usually, we make love until dawn and then share cold spaghettiOs right out of the can.”

“Ah,” He nods seriously, “the opulence. It’s all very grand.”

A comfortable silence wraps itself around you both until you have a thought that pokes to be shared.

“Do you suppose Scorsese might have chosen Layla because of the double-edged sword it also happens to be as a piece? Since Clapton wrote it about his best friend's wife?” You feel a blush heat your cheeks, and immediately wish you hadn’t contributed. He knows so much about film and you know so little.

True to Joshua-form, however, he hushes your unease effortlessly. “Shit! I’d never even considered that. The beauty for Clapton was the ugly for Harrison. God, I’m so in love with the way your mind sees everything that’s invisible to mine.”

I’m so in love with…

He means the ideas in your head, the quiet corners of your thoughts, but it quickens your heart and nudges the butterflies in your stomach to life, nonetheless.

So, you pull yourself up, a thigh nestled on either side of his waist in the blink of a breath.

“Hi.” You long for the timid smile dancing shyly on your lips to morph into something sultry. Something sexy. Something that might flicker the darkened flame, that hides down deep in his belly, to life.”

“Hi.” He grins back, allowing you to wiggle around until you’re comfy in his lap. “If Goodfellas is boring you, I stand zero chance of keeping you entertained, baby love.”

Your fingers worry over the beads looped around his neck and then twist into the soft pink linen of his shirt, finally coming to rest at the button fastened nearest to his throat. Your eyes travel over him, hungry to soak him in. To tuck this image of Josh, so quietly content with you perched above him, away in your heart…a pretty picture to revisit when he inevitably becomes a memory.

What is he thinking? That question seems to occupy your mind more often than any other. He is an enigma. A mystery parading as wide open sunshine.

Intrusive thoughts, cruel and unrelenting, silently bully you. You’ve become quite adept at ignoring them over the years, opting for at least some semblance of normalcy in your quest for a happy, healthy life. Whatever that means.

But these thoughts in particular are cloaked in far too much truth…too many signs pointing to the worst being the obvious…to be easily disregarded.

You want to say these things to him. If only to bask in the assurance you might catch in his reply. But to risk the absence of said reassurance, is a feat too great.

Instead, you begin a tentative roll of your hips as you lean in close to meet his pillowy lips with your own. He tastes of mint, and the IPA he has been nursing, and Josh.

Like always, he indulges the kiss, but stills your hips, and you long to vanish into thin air, leaving nothing more than a coiling wisp of smoke in your wake. The rejection comes with a throbbing ache in your chest. Is your heart truly breaking? Now you’ll be forced to offer it to him in pieces.

And he isn’t the only one to indulge in old habits, because, also like always, you crawl into the safe embrace of humor. “You’re right, Joshua…you’re boring me. Back to the brilliant mind of Marty, my beloved.”

You slide off of him and stretch back out on the couch, focusing on the screen to hide your tear glossed eyes as he gets comfortable behind you.

“Scorsese, you bastard,” he shakes his fist in mock indignation, “how dare you steal the affections of my woman?”

A forced laugh comes out sounding a little too close to a sob. You play it off as best you can. Nothin’ to see here.

Alas, he catches it. And, of course, he won’t leave it alone, though you certainly ask him too.

“What is it, baby? What’s wrong?” He turns you toward him, hovering over you as you lie on your back and long to melt away. “Talk to me.”

“I just— I mean,” death seems of great comfort. “Is it me? Do you not… are you not… am I not pretty enough? Or sexy enough? Or… I don’t know,”

A frown of deep concern furrows his brow as his palms move to cup your face, “What? Are you not…Jesus, baby, of course you are. Fuck, if anything you’re too much. Too pretty, too sweet, too smart, too sexy.”

Your words come quiet and small, quivering with painful vulnerability “Then why?” You close your eyes, and thankfully, he allows you to hide this way.

Exactly what you knew would happen, happens. He lies without lying. “Why, what?” He sounds of feigned confusion. He knows what you mean.

Throat now constricted and pulsing with a wringing pain, you close your eyes tighter, unwilling to bear witness to whatever lie will follow his last. “Why don’t you want me?”

A tear breaches the dam you had hoped was impenetrable. You loathe and curse it.

“Hey, shhh…don’t do that. Don’t cry.” He brushes the tear away and then kisses over the path it took.

“Don’t cry?” You snap. A twinge of regret flares to life within you. You’ve never spoken to him unkindly, and could it be that there’s no going back? Perhaps this is it; the end of the road you’ve been heading inevitably for.

To your great surprise, he laughs. You crack an eyelid open to find it sincere. “So, she’s capable of something other than sugar, spice, and everything nice, after all.”

His hand smooths down your chest - can he feel the violent rattle of your heart as it thrums and beats out of control?

When at last he speaks, there is an edge to his tone you’ve never heard before. It warms you clear through to your curling toes “You think I don’t want you?”

You shrug, all pink cheeks and complete ineloquence.

“Well,” he soothes, drawing gentle patterns upon your temple and forehead, “you should know, that is far from the case.”

But, rather than take the moment further, as he so easily could, as you so desperately want him to, he sinks into an innocent position - resting his cheek on your stomach as you struggle to keep it from rising and falling too rapidly, his eyes, once more, on the screen.

The film drones on; mafia murders and cocaine swirling down flushed toilets. Betrayal and 20/20 hindsight…

…and on you watch, on the surface - in reality, you can think of nothing else other than the weight of his head on your stomach.

There is a dull ache there, inside you, gripping at every nerve ending all at once. He knows what you want, and he very obviously doesn’t want the same thing. He doesn’t want you.

He speaks first, and there’s too much truth in it. He knows you too well. “I need you to stop that.”

“Stop what?” You stupidly offer a tiny shrug, but for what? He isn’t even looking at you.

“Your walls, I can feel you stacking bricks. Stop, or I’ll take a wrecking ball to them.” he pets over your forearm comfortingly. It doesn’t help.

“Alright, Miley,” you toss the joke out like a life preserver for yourself. “Just don’t start licking sledgehammers and we’ll be alright.”

He gives you the softest laugh. It more closely resembles a sigh, “Is it only sledgehammers that you are opposed to me licking?”

Oh.

When he coolly pushes your shirt up and begins dragging his lips, licked slick and warm, around your belly button, you think you might burst into tiny, burning, longing, pieces. God, how you want him.

“You like that, baby love?” He speaks the words melodically into the room like a lullaby, hushed as a priest absolving you of your sins in a darkened confessional.

A whiny hum is all you seem capable of, but it doesn’t look like it matters much to him.

“Yeah?” He’s teasing now, and you think it might kill you. Your hips begin a barely perceptible rock in response. “Can I touch you, sweetheart? Do you want that?”

“Josh, please,” his name is less than a whisper. It’s a plea gasped into the dark, dancing with the flickering glow of the tv as it blinks and changes like lightning.

The warmth of his hand between them causes your thighs to twitch and tremble, but he hovers just above making actual contact. “God, look at you. How could you ever doubt how much I want you? So pretty. Can I touch you here, baby? My pretty, pretty girl.”

With a soft moan, you lift your hips, pressing into his palm. He doesn’t push for words, your body has given him all the consent he needs, and the want in your eyes reiterates.

His mouth is wandering your soft, flushed, stomach as he slides your pants away, gentle and sure, the tip of his tongue bridging the distance between his kisses.

Your hands weave down into his wild curls, comforted by the way they wrap themselves into your touch, spiraling around your fingers as you tug at them and tenderly scratch over his scalp. A particularly sweet drag brings a shiver to life on his shoulders. He groans in appreciation and runs away with another piece of your heart.

“Oh, fuck,” you murmur, surprised and grateful, when at last, he sinks a single finger into your warmth.

Should you at least have the decency to feel shy about the sound it makes? About the way you must be soaking his skin? Perhaps. But you don’t, and judging by the curse he secrets into the still of the night, there isn’t any reason to.

“Does that feel good?” He isn’t taunting you, it’s a genuine question, but there is a hint of a teasing tone there as well, peeking out from around the edges of his words and you think it might just be the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“So good.” You’re whining and writhing beneath him, tiny pouty huffs of breath tumbling off your lips over and over…but you don’t care about that either.

His finger slips out and you mourn it pitifully, until it swirls around your swollen clit, tearing a shaking cry out of your chest. And then, there it is again, filling you as his thumb begins a slick trail of tight circles just right.

“You want more?” Oh god…the way he sounds, the way you feel. He’s setting you further and further on fire with his gentle, decadent, prodding. With his breathy, gingerly obscene questions. Flames - scorching and crackling - lick up inside you. Incinerating as they consume.

“More?” He asks again, rasping the word, wantonly urging you on.

“Yes!” You nod frantically, spreading your legs further. You want him, need him, so badly…coveting the very breath in his lungs for its privilege of being inside him in a way you’ll never know. You long to trickle down into his pores and vanish.

A second finger - they feel longer than they have ever looked - joins the first and then begins a perfect, guiding, curl.

Tucking into that perfect place inside you, he fucks the pads of his fingers against it ever so carefully. Gently spinning your head in every direction.

He rests against your belly as the muscles inside churn and flex beneath his ear, watching intently as his hand fucks away at you. He wonders what it might be like to stretch you to almost breaking. How it would feel to push another finger inside, and then another, and another. When would you tell him to stop? Three? Four? Could you take that burning stretch? Would you relish it and ask for more? Fuck, he hopes so.

But you feel so tight around him…just two fingers full and you’re squeezing like you’ll never let go. He worries, and the pounding pulse of neglect that aches rhythmically in his cock, reminds him that he worries rightly so.

He has always believed you to be the most beautiful thing his eyes have ever had the pleasure of landing upon, but he’s never seen you like this - spread open, soaked and puffy with want. With need…for him. It doesn’t seem possible.

The way you move…fluidly, like ripples chasing over the surface of a placid lake, urging him along with your body. Your gorgeous cunt sucking his fingers in. A goddess, a beckoning siren, an angel…he can’t look away.

Can’t until he hears it, until he feels it, how close you are. Wild, frothing, horses couldn’t keep him from the gift of watching your face as you fall apart. An army of men wouldn’t stand a chance. He wants this moment with you, and he will have it. He wants to make you cum, and he wants to watch your eyes go blurry with it, and so watch he will.

“C’mon, baby…” he goes breathless when his face tilts up to meet yours. You are flushed and panting, lips parted. The soft pink of your tongue just barely visible, blushing like saltwater taffy in your mouth and he wants to lick against it, wants to taste you.

The smallest blips of a sound he can’t describe chase each other out of that beautiful mouth he wants to kiss so badly. Tiny uh’s that shift into gasps of desperation. You’re right there, and he wants it more than you do.

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, he eases his chin into the softness just below your navel, creating a delicious pressure, and crooks his finger so perfectly, pressing and stroking until it feels like you’re floating and the only thing holding you in place is him.

It is celestial. He is every constellation and you are the astronomer, feet held to the ground by gravity, eye pressed against a telescopic lens hopefully, frantic for a glimpse of his wonder.

There is only Josh.

“Almost there, pretty girl,” he nods, gaze glossed with lust and something that looks like love. “You gonna give it to me?”

You are. You’re going to give it to him. You couldn’t stop it now if you tried. Fluttering walls trap him inside you as his stare fixes, unmoving and heated, with yours.

“That’s it, baby love, that’s it.” He urges you on, leads you deeper and deeper, those long, warm, perfect, fingers working you like he’s been there a thousand times before. “Shh, you’re alright. I’m right here, just breathe for me.”

That’s all it takes for you to realize your lungs are burning for a breath you’ve been unknowingly denying them - and with that hissing, hungry, gasp for air, you explode under him.

He watches, mezmorized, as your eyes roll back, teeth clenched like some ethereal, feral creature. It bursts out of you, clear and shimmering, like liquid diamonds, but you don’t know it yet, he can tell…you’re too far gone, and he fucking loves it. He fucking loves you.

He has said it aloud. I love you, sweetheart. I love you so much. I love you.

But that’s the thing that he doesn’t know yet because he’s also too far gone.

You’re quiet, gentle. Sweet, whining whimpers floating out of you as you vibrate and spill.

On your end, you hear the confession of how deeply his feelings run, but you don’t register…it will settle in later and you’ll weep for not saying it back. Though you don’t need to, he knows.

Once you’ve settled, he pushes up until you are eye to eye, lapping your release off his fingers. You’re sweet enough to lick off a whisk like cake batter, and he tells you so…but you can focus on nothing but the shining glint of you that he wears so well.

Shocked by the sheer amount, you blush hard and hot. Burning brighter still when it drips from his hand and lands on your lip. In an act you don’t seem aware of, you lick it away like a raindrop. The very sight of it, the somehow still innocent depravity, weakens him until he is forced to swallow a whine.

“Had I known what I was missing,” he grins lazily, “I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.”

The confusion sends you crashing back to reality.

“But why stop yourself at all?” Your eyes are so wide and clear. It makes him want to gather you up and keep you safe.

Once more, it crosses his mind that you’re an angel. He wonders where your wings have gone.

“Because, I—“ he falters, shaking his head as if he might rattle his thoughts into place. Finally, he opts to show, not tell, pressing his hips against yours so you can feel him.

And feel him, you do, but only for a moment. He’s so hard you’re cozy from the heat of it through the sweats he was lounging in when you arrived.

You’ve noticed. Of course you have. You’ve stolen a glance or two when he wasn’t looking. How could you not? You’d just always thought, and not to be crass, you’d always just assumed he was a shower, rather than a grower.

Now you aren’t so certain. He felt massive during the short amount of time he was rocking into you.

“You’re thinking very hard, baby love.” He smiles down at you. “Are those thoughts in my favor, or…?”

He trails off and awaits your answer with that Josh-like patience. Rather than speaking, you curl your hands around the waistband of his pants and then cast your eyes up, in silent question.

Nodding the go ahead, he continues watching you closely…studying your reaction as you tug him free.

“Oh, fuck,” the expletive sighs out of you as the tip of his cock - leaking, angry and swollen - slaps up, well above his belly button, with a solid thump.

He’s big. So big. Long and thick, beautifully shaped. Blushing pink at the head, and visibly pulsing under your awestruck scrutiny. You absently wonder how he isn’t light-headed for the amount of blood it must require to bring him to such full attention.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” He explains softly, finally letting you in on the secret of why he’s been so skittish, “And I didn’t want to…”

His confession loses traction as he watches your mouth rather than meeting your gaze.

Your palms reach for him, cupping his angelic face with as much gentleness as the renewed desire racing through your veins will allow. “You didn’t want to what?”

While he searches for the words, you curl your thighs around him and pull him in, moaning out his name like a mantra when you feel him against you, skin to skin.

“God damn, baby…” he rocks his hips closer to yours and then remembers what he’s doing. “I didn’t want to scare you. And I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You tease, trying to lighten the heavy load of his anxiety.

“I know.” His mouth meets yours, searching out a slow, needful kiss. “But I kept imagining hurting you, and you being too sweet to say so. I’m still imagining it.”

Your tongue licks into his mouth as you wrap your fist around him. “Look at you, Josh,” you smile shyly through a kiss that is anything but shy. “My fingers don’t even touch.”

“Grew up under some power lines.” He teases, relaxing as he pecks along your jaw.

“I want you inside me.” You sound despondent, and feel just as forlorn, the look in his eye warns you may have a fight on your hands.

“Pretty girl,” he tucks himself away and begins kissing a slow, serpentine trail down your body after he flutters your shirt, indicating he wants it off. “I could barely get two fingers in your sweet little pussy. Why don’t you just let me kiss it? Don’t you want to cum on my tongue, hmm? Won’t that feel nice?”

Such filth is a captivating development, and one you like very much…but, you stop him all the same. Grabbing him by the hair with enough force to tilt his head back, pulling his mouth away from your straining nipple, you issue a demand you intend to make sure he fulfills, “I said, inside, Joshua.”

He raises an eyebrow and suppresses a grin of dirty glee. “Joshua?”

Ignoring him, you watch as he licks the pad of his thumb and then arch away from the cushion when he begins a steady, swirling journey over your clit with it. “Gonna make you cum first, love. Again and again. I’m gonna baby this gorgeous cunt until my name is the only word you want in your mouth…and then I want you to fill my mouth.”

“Jesus, Josh…” you’ve never wanted anything more, but you can hardly force the words out to convey just how fucking agreeable you are.

“You want that?” He flicks over you faster and faster, indulging in your pouty, needy cries, praying they never end. “You want to cum in my mouth? Feed me something sweet?”

~

“Easy, baby love,” he coos, whispering to you like you’re a tiny, broken bird, fallen from the nest and afraid. “You’ve got to relax a little more for me.”

“Yeah…” you nod, staring up at him as if he painted your entire world into existence. And maybe he did.

No longer able to count the number of orgasms he’s gifted you with, you feel like liquid silk. Or clay in his palm, happy to be molded to his liking.

“Yeah?” He drops a kiss onto your forehead and pushes in just a hint further, eyes darting up when you hiss with discomfort.

You offer a smile for him to continue and he returns it gently, but the way he’s fighting for breath betrays him. He wants you badly, he’s going slowly mad with the need to bury into your body to the hilt.

His fingertips skate a ticklish trail down the curve of your waist and then grip into your thigh, spreading you open a bit wider.

Both bare now completely to each other for the first time, you’ve given yourself over right there on the couch. The room is silent, save for hushed words and choked breaths twisting languidly through the air, the movie long since over.

He’d wanted to carry you off to the bedroom, but you refused.

You want him here. You want him now.

Palm cradling the back of your head, he brings you forward until your mouth is sucking at his shoulder. “Just like that, sweetheart. Good girl.” His praise flips your stomach. A violent somersault of carnal need. “You just suck and bite all you want. I’m gonna take care of you. You know that, don’t you?”

Nodding urgently against him, you’re far too interested in the marks you're leaving against his overheated skin.

“Words for me, okay?” He coaxes so gently it makes your chest ache.

“You’re going to take care of me.” You mumble through a long lick along his collarbone.

Without reply, he slides in deeper, yet still not much more than the tip rests inside you.

A shocked cry escapes you before you can stifle it and his face snaps up, searching your own for tells of pain that he doesn’t have to look all that closely for. “Baby,” the pet name sings out of him, a soft crooning apology. “Let’s stop, I…”

“No, please!’ The frantic want bubbling up inside you colors your voice and surprises you both, but he masks it well.

“Hush, love. No one’s stopping yet.” he soothes, massaging your hip carefully. Just wisps of touch, but you relax beneath it like a sleepy babe cradled up snug and safe.

You’re not fond of that ‘yet’ he tacked on to the end of his promise.

“Deeper.” Your hips lift, forcing his hand while you gulp down another sound of discomfort.

“Don’t.” His grip is suddenly digging into your waist, no longer careful, but swift and insistent instead. “Let me take my time. Let me be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’s right, and you tell him as much as he begins a slow, stuttering journey. Starting and stopping as you writhe with impatience and uncomfortability in his capable hands.

Reaching up, he guides your fingers down until they brush over your sensitive clit. “You take care of this for me, okay, baby? Help me make this easier for my pretty girl…I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

“Please, Josh…” you sound a mess, and who gives a damn? “Please!”

You’re right, it’s time. He knows it better than you do. He can wait no more. There isn’t far to go anyway.

Suddenly, with one firm thrust, he drives in all the way to the base, shuddering as you coil around him like a hot, wet, fist. Squeezing harder and tighter and fuck….

“So fucking tight.” He is trembling, fighting the urge to let go already. “It’s like you don’t want to let me go. Pussy so pretty and soft. Like the sweetest thing all dressed in pink. Aren’t you fucking gorgeous?”

Your eyes drift closed, breathing through the last remnants of the biting sting. You’re so full, it feels so good. So right. So completely perfect, you cannot begin to fathom how you’ve lived all these years without him inside you.

“Say it.” He sounds like an angel clawing his way closer and closer to something he can’t survive without any longer.

“What?”

“Tell me you’re gorgeous.” He’s fucking you faster now…and it stings, but it hurts so good you want to feel the burn forever. “Say you’re my beautiful girl. Come on, I wanna know that you know.”

“I—“ your face flares as pink as the cunt he’s currently locked inside

“That’s it, baby love…” he coaxes, pumping into you with long, torturous strokes. “C’mon,”

A little less tentative now - he effortlessly makes you believe - the words finally come “I’m gorgeous.”

He smiles so wide his nose crinkles as he nods and dips his lips to meet your own. “Fuck yes you are. My pretty girl. You’re doing so well, look at you. Just taking and taking and taking me.”

Pulling you up and away from the pillow gently, he guides your line of sight to the sinful image of him gliding in and out of you. His cock, glistening and covered in your unbridled desire - it catches the light and steals your heart. Is it possible to be in love with a cock? Or are you just in love with the man who wields it?

Both. Most definitely, both.

“Look, baby, look…” a quivering huff escapes him. “It’s like coming home. Being inside you is like coming fucking home.”

“Harder,” you beg, winded and lost. He feels so good inside you. Stretched further than you ever thought possible around him, you clench and twist a fist into the throw pillow beneath you until your fingernails threaten to rip it open.

“Just…fuck,” his pretty face buries itself in the crook of your neck with a whimper as he falters. “Just a little.”

The room is hazy and blurred, filled with sounds neither of you can seem to quiet. Each moan and breath filling your head up until you feel feverish. Every groan and gasp pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

Your bodies meet in a sweat glazed dance that causes your teeth to grit together - biting down hard to suppress a scream that he might confuse with pain.

He tucks his own teeth into your throat deeply, growling out a melodic sound that sets you on fire, when the salt of your skin hits his tongue.

A shaky, “I’m gonna cum, baby love…where, baby, where?” Pants out of him with a desperate urgency the moment he releases your skin from his bite.

“Inside…” you plead, clawing at his waist as your thighs lock him in close. “Cum inside me…c’mon. Please,”

“Pretty girl begging for my cum. Begging me to ruin this beautiful little cunt…” he sounds as if he’s talking to himself, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re real.

“Ruin it, baby,” your palms drift up his back, slow and steady…urging him along gently. “Ruin me.”

A sound so exquisitely angelic rumbles up out of his chest. Deep and primal, but somehow gentle and submissive, like he wants to fall at your feet in veneration of something holy and ancient.

He falls against you, pulling you as close as he can get you, and then draws the scent of your hair in only to feel that much closer. Rocking into you as he slowly comes down and finds himself.

Gathering you in his arms, he lifts you away from the disheveled couch, ignoring you when you protest weakly that you can walk.

A bath is drawn and laced with plain epsom salt to soothe your throbbing muscles. He slips into the steaming water behind you, cradling you as he drags a washcloth over your skin.

Quiet verses of a song you’ve never heard are whispered in your ear as you drift into a light slumber without worry, confident that he will keep your head safe above water.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @thelvnternskeeper @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sunfl0wer-power @sad1lynn

[suugarbabe]

Hi! Congrats on 1k!!!!

i was wondering if you could do a Fred Weasley x reader

but the reader is Sirius blacks daughter 🤷🏼‍♀️ It takes place abt Prisoner of Azkaban

but so the reader was raised by Remus because Sirius chose him as the godfather and the reader is extremely touch starved like it’s crazy

and she is rlly anxious abt everything and (almost) everyone at hogworts shuns her because she’s Sirius blacks daughter and they believe she helps him in the school or is like him. But she’s not and it all just really gets to her. and she talks to Remus abt all of it (they def gossip together lol) and he tries his best to make it better for her but she kinda left one part out, about Fred. They had been friends for a while but they kinda drifted for whatever reason. He was with her all the time out of no where and she was a bit paranoid abt it but he just wanted to make sure she was ok and because he really missed her. And he was in love with her but he didn’t quite know how to tell her, and he didn’t really know what all he felt. I guess like a slow burn situation lol

sorry that’s a whole lot lol and it jumps all over the place I’m terrible at explaining things

absolutely love your work tho 🫶🏻🫶🏻

so i took a little creative liberty with this to make it work as a blurb so if you hate it, sozz, but I kind of like it??

The door to your godfather's office opened before you even had a chance to knock. You let out a sigh as you walked into the classroom, "Uncle Rem, you know I hate it when you watch me on that map." You walked up to his desk at the front of the classroom, sinking into the large chair sitting behind it.

"You know I only do it when I'm worried about you. And your father would have my head if I didn't keep a good eye on you," Remus's voice came from behind you, walking down the steps from his office before joining you in the main classroom.

You tried your best not to roll your eyes, "There's no need for him to be worried. Haven't you heard, Rem? I'm letting him into the castle so he can murder our precious Harry Potter." You slumped further into the chair, "I'm sorry. I know Harry doesn't know the truth, but you don't know how hard it is to keep this secret."

"Bug," Remus was smiling at you, "if anyone knows about the trials and tribulations of keeping a secret at Hogwarts, I think i'd be able to relate." You couldn't help but smirk, "Okay, you've got me there. But no one suspected your dad to be a murderer."

Remus nodded, "Not everyone thinks you're so terrible, Bug." You couldn't help but scoff, "I love you, Uncle Rem, but unfortunately you don't count in this scenario."

Remus just shook his head, "M'not talking about me, love."

You tilted your head in confusion, "What are you talking about?"

Your godfather couldn't contain his smirk, "I'm referring to one Mr. Weasley. Fred to be more specific."

You huffed out a little, "Fred? Worried about me? Please, Uncle Rem, he's not worried, he's just stalking to try and find out how I'm letting dad in."

"You know that's not true, Bug. Fred's been a good friend of yours for many years. Why would this year change everything?" Remus was sitting on the edge of his desk now, looking down at you in the chair. You felt like a young child again when you used to sit with Remus in the living room and talk to him about everything and anything.

"I just feel like we've been drifting. We don't talk as much, but he's always kind of around? I just know he thinks the same thing as everyone else. His brother is best friends with Harry for Godric's sake, like of course he hates me now, how could he not?"

Remus looked at you with those eyes, the eyes he gives you when he's about to tell you how wrong you are. You closed your eyes in response, only causing Remus to chuckle, "What on earth are you doing?"

"If I don't look at you, I can't see you silently telling me how incorrect I am," this answer only made Remus laugh harder.

"Bug," he said your nickname lovingly, "Bug, look at me please, it's important." You peeked one eye open. "Uh-uh, both eyes, full attention."

You huffed out a sigh before complying. Remus folding his arms over his chest, "Mr. Weasley is quite fond of you and ah, ah-," Remus cut himself off, holding up a finger to you to stop you from replying before continuing himself, "and I think you should go have a chat with him. He came to me earlier today, telling me how worried he was about you, that he's been keeping an eye on you to make sure that you're safe. He's quite fond of you, Bug."

Your cheeks burned red, not knowing what to say in response. "Maybe," Remus stood from his desk now, "you should go have a chat with him." He started ascending up the stairs now, essentially leaving you no choice to but listen to his suggestion.

"I don't even know where he is right now," you tried, but you knew your efforts were futile when you heard your godfather mumbled the retched spell to open his map.

"He's in the astronomy tower," Remus called from his office. You rolled your eyes, "Thank yooou, Uncle Remus." You pushed off the the comfy chair that essentially had your imprint in it before heading out the classroom door, Remus calling after you that he loved you and wishing you good luck.

On your walk to the astronomy tower, you replayed the last couple months in your head. How Fred was always checking up on you, asking you how you were doing, if you needed him to walk you to class, if you had any plans later that day, if you wanted to take a break and go to the lake with him.

You assumed he was checking your schedule, seeing if you were trying to plot something for your father or were making plans to help with him getting into the castle. You were so clouded by paranoia and fear of judgement you failed to see that, beyond your godfather, Fred was the only person that was actually trying to be there for you.

You tip toed up the astronomy tower, not wanting to be fully discovered before you were ready. When you reached the top you saw Fred leaning against the railings. You walked slowly up to him, placing a tentative hand on his elbow causing him to turn his head toward you.

"Oh, hello, darling," he smiled sweetly at you, though you could tell it didn't quite reach his eyes like it normally did. You were cursing yourself internally, not believing how you could be so stupid. You didn't hesitate to wrap your arms around him, squeezing him like you didn't want him to float away, "I'm so sorry, Freddie. I've been so stupid."

It took just a second for him to respond before he was hugging you back, rubbing your back gently, "Darling, what are you talking about? Stupid about what?"

You pulled back slightly, craning your neck to look up at the tall man, "I've been pushing you away when you're the only person who's been there for me, truly. The only one who hasn't been blaming me, who's been looking out for me, checking in on me, making sure no one else bothers me. I've been so stupid and paranoid that I thought maybe you were doing those things to keep an eye on me for the wrong reasons."

The more you rambled the more Fred began to smile. "Freddie," you pouted, "i'm serious, I've been so awful to you."

Fred just shook his head, large hands cupping your face and wiping your tears, "You're right, angel." You're heart stopped for a moment, thinking he was going to tell you how terrible you were to him and how much you hurt him, "You're right that I care about you, that I've just been trying to protect you. M'not mad at you for being cautious. Hell, I expected it really." You couldn't help to laugh sightly.

He smiled at your small laughter, "There she is, there's my girl." Fred tilted your head so you were looking him in the eyes now. And you saw it, his admiration for you, how much he cared, that he loved you, all in how he was looking at you right in this moment.

"Kiss me, Freddie." It was a statement, not a question. He hesitated, looking in to your eyes to make sure that's what you really wanted. But you were done being patient, done waiting to see what others were going to do.

You fisted to front of his jumper, pulling him down to you. His lips met yours quickly, one of his hands shooting down to your waist as his other found solace on the back of your neck. Your lips moved together effortlessly, his so soft and plush against yours.

You tilted your head slightly, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Your hand fisted his red hair at the base of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer before you both had to eventually break away for air.

Fred's cheeks were beat red, lips slightly swollen and you were sure you looked the same. "Wow," was all Fred was finally able to say. You nodded, "Wow."

"I should've done that weeks ago," Fred laughed lightly. You wrapped your arms around his neck, "Well, now you can do it whenever you want." He nodded, smiling, leaning down to go for another kiss.

[dolce-elegy]

Introducing: Renzo Barnes aka REVENANT

"Oh honey you shouldn't have~..."

The current unwilling avatar of the conveniently slumbering grandmama of all eldritch abominations and the abstract personification of discord itself: KHAOS. Renzo is the resident ultra dramatic, full-tilt diva of the Avengers (well, co-full-tilt divas with Stark) who loves more than anything to mess with people, beat the shit out of nazis (along with so-called “realists” who are nothing more than nazis in a trenchcoat with an anatomically-incorrect symbol), and be the most well-dressed bitch on the team~✨. With both a lust for life and a lust for blood, Renzo is the one you call upon when you need a bit more fire power to take of particularly stubborn enemies; supernatural or otherwise. Now the thing to know about them is that they usually like to “play with their food” and tend to not take things so seriously. However, if you manage to actually piss them off you better pick a God and pray that they finish you off quick instead of taking their sweet time with it. There are worse things than death after all…Normally when they’re not doing the odd superhero work around New York, you can find them either hanging out and having overdrawn fan discussions about the Star Wars prequels with one Peter Parker at their apartment near Empire State University or arguing with Eddie Brock and whining about the listicles they have to write as a Daily Globe intern for their day job. That or practicing for the current semester play their drama department is putting on. Also they tend to help out their “Grandpa” Alexei with some totally “legal” missions much to their mother and father’s chagrin along with teaching Morgan new and exciting swear words in both English, Spanish and Voidspeak to mess with Stark~✌️✨

Full Bio Below 🔽

Full Name: Renzo Yelena Barnes-Romanoff

Alias(es): Revenant (main alias)/Night Spinner (only used during the 5 years post snap as a way to honor Peter)

Nicknames: Ren, "Little Shit," Hot Topic, Life on the Murder Scene, Depeche Mode, Ren Ren (used only by Kobik), Kid (used by Bucky), Little Blackbird or “Маленький дрозд/Malen'kiy drozd” (used by Alexei and Melina), “Femme-Presenting Patrick Bateman,” “Netflix Adaption of Yuno Gasai,” and "RENZO NO"

Age: 23 (in 2027)

Birthday: May 27, 2004 (Gemini)

Face Claim: Indya Moore

Gender: AMAB femme-presenting non-binary

Pronouns: They/Them

Family:

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes (Adoptive Father)

Natasha Barnes-Romanoff (Adoptive Mother)

Richard James “RJ” Barnes-Romanoff (Adoptive little brother)

Kobik Rebecca Barnes-Romanoff (Adoptive little sister)

Melina Vostokoff (Adoptive Grandmother)

Alexei Alanovich Shostakov (Adoptive Grandfather who is absolutely proud of Renzo’s pre-teen kill count much to Natasha’s annoyance and Bucky’s horror)

Yelena Belova (Adoptive Aunt)

Anthony Stark (biological uncle because Howard Stark had a bit too much “fun” in Mexico during the 70s)

Virginia Potts-Stark (aunt by marriage)

Morgan Stark (Biological half-cousin)

Steven Grant Rogers (honorary uncle/Godfather)

Samuel Thomas Wilson (honorary uncle/Godfather)

Clint Barton (honorary uncle/Godfather)

Laura Barton (honorary aunt/Godmother)

Appearance: (please note that since one of Renzo’s main abilities is shapeshifting they can technically have any kind of appearance they want. They following is what they “lovingly” call their “default skin”)

Skin color: brown skin with a reddish, summer undertone

Hair: black, full-bodied, spiky and wavy, mid-length hair with 3 distinct cowlicks

Eyes: blood red eyes with a permanent “smoky eye” and eye bags that also do “fun” things like glow, leak out black smoke and/or a black, ink-like substance along with their scleras turning pitch black as well.

Powers: Mediumship, Retrocognition, Empath Abilities, Umbrakinesis, Pyrokinesis, Shapeshifting, Flight/Levitation, Chaos Magic, Teleportation, Enhanced Speed/Strength/Healing Factor

Likes: Iced Coffee, High Fashion, sunglasses (especially if they’re heart-shaped), cheesy 80s movies, old musicals, watching old musicals and movies with Barnes, vintage fashion, charcoal (when you’re the KHAOS proxy you get “interesting” cravings…), hamburgers, french fries, salty foods in general, pocky, bad horror movies, anime, manga, broadway musicals, drama, drama (again but this time it’s theater-related), performing, singing, hot vampires, trying to hook up with vampires and get the big titty goth gf vamp gf of their dreams, gossiping, beating the shit out of and killing nazis/hydra agents/fascists, ABBA, disco in general (is pissed off that they were never around for the 70s and 80s), citypop, messing with Flash Thompson, messing with Mary-Beth Asger (ex-member of a “Christian” cult/proxy to KHAOS’ equally “slumbering” counterpart of Order, who honestly hasn’t completely stopped believing everything that she was taught even though admittedly she’s gotten better and is still your stereotypical, pompous, “nice white girl”), flirting, knives, messing with General Ross, getting to “let loose” (AKA letting their murderous impulses run wild on nazis), messing with “Tio Tony,” constantly shoving in “Tio Tony’s” face that they’d totally be “Team Cap” if they were around for the Airport Fight, honestly just messing with people in general.

Dislikes: egg creams (no matter how hard Barnes tries to make them like it, they refuse to drink it and they think that it’s nasty), ghosts, being able to see ghosts, their “Seer” powers overall, nazis/hydra/fascists, cults, other eldritch abominations in the AMARANTHINE (court of eldritch abominations that KHAOS is technically the head of), KHAOS because they have to clean up their (KHAOS’) messes, Christian cults (i.e. Evangelicals, Fundamentalists), terfs, boring people, boring movies, when people try to pick on Peter and Ned, having to write “listicles” for the Daily Globe, Blade constantly dashing their big titty goth vamp gf dreams

Personality: Theatrical, petty, vengeful, crafty, mischievous, sarcastic, but surprisingly compassionate, and empathetic (whether they like it or not). When not acting like they're trying to go for a Tony award in a notable revival of a classic production, they can be pretty out-there with a little bit of the uncanny valley mixed in. Not to mention, they can be also pretty laid-back and nonchalant; especially when dealing with villains trying for the umpteenth time to take over New York. Additionally, and not surprisingly, due to their background, they can be rather cynical and distrusting; however over the years they have been slowly but surely trying to look more at the bright side of things and give people the benefit of the doubt. However, God forbid you actually piss them off though, because that's when their sadistic side comes out. When that happens, you better pick a God and pray that they decide to kill you at all, let alone kill you quick...

Love Interest: Peter Parker

Bio: Renzo has never had the best time growing up. Born a "Seer" or otherwise known as a medium, they've always been able to see ghosts to their utter displeasure. However, they were the only one in their bio family that could see ghosts and thus was written off as an "insane" problem child by said family. Heavily medicated and then eventually abandoned after the death of their bio parents, Renzo was forced into the foster system at the age of 9. However that didn't last long, as Renzo eventually ran away and the then impressionable 10 year old fell into the clutches of Dr. Darius Titus Solomon and the Esoteric Cult of the Maverick. After being love-bombed to heck and back by Solomon due to their Seer "gifts," Renzo soon became enthralled with him and would literally do whatever Solomon wanted: including becoming an assassin for him.

However that all came to an end when Renzo found out that they were nothing more than a sacrifice and after inadvertently getting their revenge and unwanted new powers, they ran away to New York and became a part of the Parker Family. From there, they went to space, survived the snap, grieved their loss and ended up unexpectedly bonding with James "Bucky" Barnes and Natasha Romanoff. So much so, that a couple of years later after the Snap, Barnes and Romanoff (who ended up getting married themselves) adopted them, and then later on adopted RJ and then Kobik. Now years later, after helping to kick Thanos' ass, losing their memory of Peter and then regaining it; they're currently just trying to survive college and their internship at the Daily Globe, along with dealing with some "interesting" feelings concerning their best friend...

“Fun” Facts:

When they were formally adopted by Barnes and Romanoff, they decided to offer their new parents a chance to give them a middle name to help them better get a clean slate. Romanoff ended up deciding to use “Yelena” to honor her (still dusted at the time) sister, and thus Renzo officially became Renzo Yelena Barnes-Romanoff.

They are the absolute epitome of a theater kid and helped to run the drama club at Midtown High with an iron fist.

They were also surprisingly part of the Midtown High cheer squad and tended to do most of the acrobatic stunts when on the team.

They absolutely detest their mediumship and empath abilities due to making their early life a literal, living hell. It’s not fun when ghosts that only you can see have forgotten the meaning of “no” and try to turn you into their own personal “errand boy” after all. Especially when your own family thinks you’re insane and need to be institutionalized. Not to mention in terms of their empath abilities, it took a long, long time for them to finally get a hold of them. Before they would heavily get overwhelmed by other people’s emotions to the point that it would even influence their own. Though nowadays, if they’re not careful they can still get overwhelmed; especially in a crowd.

Going hand-in-hand with the previously mentioned empath powers: When Thanos first enacted the Snap, they could feel the devastating, vast loss of life in the same way Mantis could...

When they first escaped the Esoteric Order of the Maverick, they lived on the streets for a while trying to avoid any remaining members by constantly traveling. They were 12 when they came to Queens and ran into a sympathetic May Parker who after realizing that they had trauma-related to the foster system, made it her mission to coax Renzo into a stable home environment. It took her over 5 months but she and Peter were finally able to coax them into living with them.

For the longest time before the “Blip” they were basically known as “Parker’s weird, little ‘brother’.”

Has a petty feud with Peter over who’s taller. Back when they were 12, obviously Peter was taller, but then after the Blip, Renzo was the new reigning champ of height. However, during college Peter got a growth spurt and managed to get a couple of inches on them. To which, Renzo immediately used their shapeshifting powers to make them exactly 1 inch taller than Peter.

One of their most precious possessions is an old, black hoodie that Peter gave to them when they first met, after seeing the shivering, pre-teen, ex-assassin in the rain in an alley behind his and May’s apartment. It’s pretty much has become a comfort object for them and they even still wear it around their apartment sometimes to Peter’s surpise no matter how ratty it’s gotten. Even when they lost their memory of Peter, they still kept it and couldn’t bear to get rid of it, even if they couldn’t remember why exactly it was so important to them...

Another valuable possession of theirs was an old burner, flip phone that they had from their days in the cult that during the 2 years they lived with Peter and May became filled with pictures of them, Ned, and MJ. For the longest time it was a symbol of them overcoming their past as a killer and healing from it, and then during the 5 years after the “Blip,” it became a symbol of mourning for them. They ended up using it however on Vormir as a loophole since it was “something” they loved, by throwing it over the edge in order to prevent their mom from sacrificing herself.

Speaking of their time during the “Blip,” they ended up inadvertently going on a “revenge roadtrip” across the western United States with Barnes, Romanoff, Logan, Wade, W’Kabi, and a teenaged Dora Milaje in training called Thandiwe. Basically when they were 16, they found out to their horror, the Order was starting to gain power again, so they were trying to stomp out all of their hideouts during their summer break. At one of said hideouts they ran into Barnes and Romanoff who were trying to wipe out any Hydra remnants, W’Kabi (who was sent out as a War Dog as penance for his betrayal of T’Challa) and Thandiwe (who was also there to keep an eye on him) who were tracking down illegally trafficked vibranium, and Logan and a teenaged Wade, who were trying to get revenge on people in involved in the “Weapon X” program. There all of them found out that they were basically dealing with a “quadfecta” of evil, where the cult and hydra were working together with illegal vibranium and experimenting on mutants to create human weapons. From there they all decided to work together so they can all make sure that all factions of that network were taken down.

During this time, this was also where they, Barnes, and Romanoff first met Kobik, when they came across a mysterious town called “Pleasant Hill”...

For the 5 years after the “Blip” they also became “Night Spinner” as a way to honor Peter, where they even used Peter’s old, original, homemade Spider-Man hoodie. They felt that New York needed a Spider-Man and while they felt they were a poor replacement, they still felt that it was necessary. Stark even hooked up a version of Karen with their outfit too.

A 14 year old Renzo also was given Peter Quil’s zune by Rocket during the “Blip” years due to them reminding Rocket and Kraglin of Quil. During the time they were stranded in space waiting for a rescue with Stark and Nebula, Renzo found the zune and started using it a lot to distract themself. After recovering a bit when they got back to Earth, they tried giving it back to Rocket and Kraglin, who ended up telling them to keep it. For the next 5 years Renzo took care of it and was almost never seen without it Obviously when everyone came back after the final defeat of Thanos, Renzo gave the zune back to Quil; albeit with some extra future funk additions~

To their horror (well more like embarrassment and annoyance), they found out that they were the illegitimate nephew/niece (nephice? niecephew? we really need to come up with something gender neutral that’s not nibling) of Tony Stark when they were 20 during a routine medical checkup at the Avengers complex. Apparently Howard Stark had a bit too much fun in Mexico during the late 70s which ended up producing Renzo’s biological mother. Nobody in their bio family knew about it; not even their egg donor and their bio maternal grandmother took that secret with her to her grave.

Is basically (one-sided) sitcom nemeses with Blade due to the fact that Blade keeps killing all of the hot vampires that they kept trying to hook up with.

Currently has undiagnosed BPD [Borderline Personality Disorder]

Still has “Girls Nights” with Wade and a reluctant Peter.

Constantly gets harassed by KHAOS’ cult and their [KHAOS'] “children” who think that they’re “literally” KHAOS who’s just “playing one of their silly little games with them...”

Can be “bound” via very specific casting sigils/circles which are normally used to essentially put them in a “time out” where they can’t leave until the spell burns out.

Was unfortunately used by Peter to prevent a rage-filled Renzo from murdering Norman Osbourne after Peter spared him, and later prevent a despondent Renzo from stopping him having Strange erase everyone’s memory of him...

When they first went to Empire State University (at age 20 after taking a gap year or two) and still couldn’t remember Peter, they ironically got paired up with him (who after getting his GED and applying like crazy for student aid, scholarships, FAFSA, etc. was able to qualify for student housing) in the dorms. They didn’t understand why they had an immediate camaraderie with him, why Parker always seem to know what they liked, and why they liked spending time with him so much (nor why Parker always looked like he was in pain and about to cry whenever they were spending time together...)

Regained their memory of Peter when a second Spider-Verse event occurred and due to their stint as “Night Spinner” they technically counted as a “Spider-Person.” Peter had been kidnapped by the “Inheritors” and while spending time with Peter 2 and 3 who were confused as to why Renzo didn’t remember them and Peter 1, something in their mind snapped when they tried to think about certain things that didn’t make sense about their “roommate.” That was when after having the absolute worst headache of their life, they finally remembered who Peter was and was absolutely pissed that he went through with erasing their and everyone else’s memory of him. Basically after one-shoting of the Inheritors who were holding their Peter hostage, they initiated a fight with him out of feeling betrayed and the fact that it made them feel like Peter didn’t trust them enough. They did eventually make up though; though Peter had to deal with everyone else remembering who he was since Renzo brute-forcing through Strange’s spell helped MJ, Ned, Happy, and all of his other loved ones remember him. Well at least no one else remembered that he was Spider-man at least...)

While Peter, Ned and MJ went on the school trip to Europe, “lucky” Renzo and Mary-Beth got trapped within Westview and got to be “special guests” on Wandavision due to being in the wrong place and the wrong time (aka Renzo went with Mary-Beth to look at colleges in the Jersey area against their will and only intended to stop in Westview to get something to eat when Wanda had her mental breakdown). Strangely though, while both of them were still forced to follow Wanda’s unconscious machinations, they still retained more of their free will than other Wandavision “cast members”...

Obviously the universe that they occupy has a lot of things go differently than the main MCU universe. For example, instead of Bucky, Sam, and Shuri being one of the people dusted, Steve and Sarah Wilson get dusted instead and Shuri has to try and run Wakanda by herself without her brother nor her mother. Also Alexei doesn’t get dusted either and has to deal without having Melina and Yelena with him.

And since his sister got dusted while leaving her sons alone, Sam had to step up and move down to Louisiana to take care of his nephews (with Bucky and Nat becoming an honorary uncle and aunt).

Also Bucky and Tony managed to begrudgingly come to an understanding and while they’re not “friends” per say Tony doesn’t want to kill him anymore and doesn’t blame him for his parents deaths. He still wants to slap Rogers though...

Of course Bucky and Nat become closer and end up dating and eventually married.

Nat and Tony don’t die. Renzo uses a loophole on Voromir to prevent their mom from sacrificing herself and since Tony “shares’ the load of the Infinity Stones with Nebula (who was the one actually wearing the glove) and with a powered-up Renzo and Mary-Beth (basically another Seer who was a proxy to a slumbering eldritch creature: this time KHAOS’ counterpart: KOSMOS, who was the personification of order/ frenemy of Renzo). Tony still ended up in a coma for a couple of years, and Nebula almost died and was out of commission for a couple of months. Same with Renzo and Mary-Beth.

Also Sam and Steve get married as well when the Blip is reversed and Steve doesn’t go back in time to be with Peggy. Sam still becomes the new Captain America though, and Steve becomes the nephews' cool but dorky, Uncle Steve. Steve also basically becomes a “trophy husband” as he likes to joke and has full on retired but will still be an ornery, stubborn, bastard that tries to unionize everything and protest against injustice.

Extras:

Drawn Reference: https://www.deviantart.com/faint-requiem/art/MCU-OC-Renzo-Barnes-Revenant-937451201

Tumblr Tag: https://dolce-elegy.tumblr.com/tagged/renzo%20barnes

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0f5SO3CbQGkH9El9i4d9tb?si=f267a9dfd6d44fae

Pinterest Board: https://pin.it/66kniAC

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag @ocs-supporting-ocs @allaboutocs @multifandom-oc-hell @arrthurpendragon @fyeahocsofcolor @fyeahmarvelocs @marvelocsdaily @marveloccommunity

[moon-lv3r]

the day of reimi's murder °.*ೃ✧˚.

🦋 category: one-shot

🦋 characters: reimi, rohan, yoshikage

🦋 summary: it was a regular day in morioh, for reimi and rohan until… nightfall and an intruder with murderous intentions entered

🦋 warnings: gore, violence ofc

🦋 notes: i am not proof reading this shit so grammatical errors !! i am too lazy to proof read

Reimi was supposed to be at a sleepover but the Kishibe family had asked for her to babysit their son, Rohan. This wasn’t the first time that she babysat Rohan, he was a fun child. Her parents were out working so she and Arnold would be the only ones home with the little Rohan. This was nothing out of the ordinary for Reimi, she had babysit the boy plenty of times, alongside other kids as well. She was essentially famous in the town of Morioh for how well she babysat kids.

“Rohan stop!” Reimi ordered as she caught Rohan trying to turn on the stove. “This isn’t a safe.”

“Mimi where is Arnold?” Rohan asked as Reimi carried him away. Rohan always called her Mimi, he could never pronounce Reimi right. Reimi never minded the nickname though, she liked it. She would call him “Rohannie” sometimes as well, he was like her younger brother. Growing up as an only child was what made Reimi love babysitting, she got to have siblings that she never had. The kids she babysat made her feel like an older sister and it was a euphoric feeling for her. Her parents weren’t able to concieve easily so when Reimi came into their lives, they provided her with everything that she ever wanted and she was grateful to have such sweet parents. Her life was blessed.

“He’s outside,” Reimi responded as Rohan waddled out like a little duck. “Arnold!” Rohan cheered as he found the dog in the backyard of the Sugimoto household. The dog barked lovingly at the toddler and began to play with him, Rohan couldn’t throw Arnold’s little squishy toy far so Arnold always returned with the toy in his mouth within seconds. Rohan gave Arnold a small head pat each time he returned and the dog loved it. Reimi smiled at the pure sight as she cleaned the plates that Rohan used for his lunch, children can be cute sometimes. Reimi had some homework to do so she couldn’t join the playful pair in their fun-filled games, it was unfortunate but she didn’t want her teacher to be coming after her and chasing her for her work. Reimi was a hardworking and diligent student, rarely ever missing a deadline. Though babysitting kids did gave her a little homework disaster once.

Rohan had once drew all over her work, it looked extremely well done for a child, which was why her teacher hadn’t brought her excuse and had her punished. Reimi kept the drawing in a drawer so that she could make fun of Rohan for his drawing once he grew up. He was basically the brother she never had. Rohan had the potential to be a mangaka if he keeps up his artistic talent and Reimi wanted to see that happen.

Rohan and Arnold ran all over the place and he had dirt plagued onto his pants, he didn’t notice them though, since he kept on running. He even grabbed onto a hose and started splashing all over the place, filling the Sugimoto’s backyard with water and laughter. His parents would slaughter him if they caught him making a mess like this in their house, but Reimi was kind and understanding, she didn’t mind Rohan’s childish antics and she was also extremely patient, which was why many parents trusted her with babysitting their children.

Rohan didn’t seem to notice that Reimi’s window was opened and held the hose a little too high, letting it spill into Reimi’s room, barely missing her homework. It only drenched the floor, everything else was as dry as the desert. Reimi looked out the window and down on Rohan and he merely looked at her sheepishly. Arnold whimpered as he saw Reimi looking down on them, fearing for some sort of punishment for potentially ruining Reimi’s homework.

“Be careful!” Reimi shouted. “You almost got my homework!”

“Sorry Mimi,” pouted the little toddler Rohan. Even Arnold let out a small, apologetic bark. “We’ll be careful!” Rohan grinned afterwards, as if he hasn’t caused any trouble just mere minutes ago.

The two continued playing until the sun slowly started to set and night began to dawn upon them. Rohan originally didn’t want to stop but he was getting hungry, his stomach was practically begging for him to stop and fill it up with food. It didn’t help that Reimi was an amazing chef, almost everyone that tried her food loved it. She was extremely well-liked by everyone, she was impossible to hate. Reimi’s parents were out late due to work so Reimi didn’t cook their share of dinner.

“Slow down Rohan!” Urged Reimi as she caught the sight of Rohan trying to finish his food within seconds. It was like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Did he enjoy her cooking that much? “Nobody is stealing your food, nor will it grow legs and run away,” Reimi laughed as she ruffled the toddler’s hair.

“Food can grow legs?” Rohan asked innocently, making Reimi laugh once more as she shook her head. “If food could grow legs, we would starve since they would all run away from us."

Arnold was the first to finish his meal, followed by Reimi. Rohan was too busy picturing his broccolis having a war with each other to finish his meal. He always had an imaginative mind.

Reimi eventually forced Rohan to finish his dinner after her parents called and said that they would be home soon. She needed to clean up before they arrive and that included ensuring that Rohan stops daydreaming a war between his meal. The ‘war’ ended in Rohan’s stomach as he swallowed them. That made him sad since his imaginative story couldn’t progress any further. Her parents arrived home shortly after Reimi finished washing the dishes.

By the time Reimi finished cleaning up everything, it was 9.30pm and in 30 minutes time, it would be time for bed. The toughest part of the day was getting Rohan to sleep. He refused to sleep, wanting to stay up till the witching hour to see ghosts. He only slept after Reimi convinced him that ghosts would only appear to obedient kids as a way to reward them. As the minute hand on the Sugimoto’s clock hit 10pm, Reimi had already hit her bed and her eyes closed shut. It had been a tired day and a long sleep was exactly what she so desperately needed. The only noise left in the house was Reimi’s parents having their late dinner, accompanied by the sounds of soft laugher from the two parent who was still deeply in love as if they had just met. The Sugimoto household was truly a heaven on earth. But it was about to turn into one of the worst place in Morioh in the matter of hours, or even minutes, and it was unknown to every member of the family.

“Oh dear,” said Mrs Sugimoto as she began to wash the dishes while her husband decided to shower. “Do you think that we could take Reimi out on a holiday some time soon? We haven’t went out as a family in a long time.”

“Sure! I’ve been thinking about going to Disney land, she asked for that a lot as a child didn’t she?” Mr Sugimoto replied as he headed into the showers. Unknown to the two adults, someone had snuck in while they were talking. Mr Sugimoto hadn’t closed the door properly when they first entered the house, he was too tired from overworking to even realise his fatal mistake. The shadows provided by the lack of sunlight provided the intruder the perfect hiding spot. The intruder hid for an hour as the Mr and Mrs Sugimoto finished their late night showers and headed towards the comforts of their own beds, ready for the sunlight in the following morning to wake them up.

The intruder took small steps, each creak could only be heard by those with ears as sensitive as a bat. Or in this case, a dog, family dog. Arnold almost immediately sensed a strange presence in their house. He softly made his way around the house, leaving his comfort spot under Reimi’s bed as the intruder made his way up into the master bedroom. Mr and Mrs Sugimoto cuddled up next to each other, enjoying each other’s presence as the intruder shadowed over them, his shadow covering their sleepy, peaceful faces. What the intruder was after wasn’t money, nor was it for a long police chase that could ruin his peaceful life.

It was to satisfy his urges. His love for hands. The pleasure that seeing some hands gave him. He went to the same school as Sugimoto Reimi, he had seen her around and gosh does she own some pretty pair of hands. Reimi was a girl who caught the attention of most boys their ages but he was drawn to her for an entirely different reason. He had planned this crime for a while but never wanted to execute it. But his urges were accelerating at insane speeds, his nails did too. He just couldn’t hold it in. He had to do it. There wasn’t any other options. Sugimoto Reimi had talked to him a few times before. The quiet Kira Yoshikage that nobody suspected to be capable of murder, and here he was, planning the murder of one of the sweetest residents to ever reside in their little town. He was doing all of this for her hands. His urges were growing by the minute. He needed to get rid of her parents before doing anything to their precious daughter. Everyone in town knew that Mr Sugimoto was strong, a blackbelt, and Mrs Sugimoto was on a similar level. If he went for Reimi first, it would be the same as proudly declaring that you cheated in an exam in front of a teacher. He wasn’t stupid enough to get himself caught. Slowly, he angled his own hands at Mr Sugimoto’s throat, he learned biology at school, he knew that slicing the jugular vein would prove to be fatal, but it would also cause a large splatter that would land onto him. And he couldn’t risk letting himself look like a murderer fresh out of a crime scene. He needed to look normal.

And he knew how to do that. He lived years with his urges and still managed to deceive others into thinking that he was like them, a normal citizen. He could do it in a murder as well.

Slowly and gingerly, he lifted a towel which he had stolen from the Sugimoto’s bathroom and held it infront of Mr Sugimoto’s throat, it was supposed to catch all of the blood splatter. Once his hand were ready, the slicing began. The sound of flesh tearing first filled the empty room, before the sound of blood gushing out of Mr Sugimoto’s throat and lastly, him waking up and choking on his own blood. He tried to wake his wife up but it was too late, Kira pounced on her next and stabbed her in the abdomen through their blanket. “Who ar—” Mrs Sugimoto tried to speak, but was gagged by the very towel used to cover the blood splatter from slitting her husband’s throat. Kira looked at those two like they were pigs ready for slaughter. They weren’t pigs, but they were ready for slaughter, and he already turned the Sugimoto’s house into a slaughter house. The laugher from hours earlier seemed to be a stranger to the now slaughter house. Muffled cries for help, mercy came from Mrs Sugimoto, begging Kira to stop. But it was hopeless, Mr Sugimoto had already bled out and died. Kira had offered him a deep slash, it didn’t only cut his jugular vein, but his trachea and ligaments as well, and that caused him to lose control movement of the head. He was too weak to fight back. Kira stabbed Mrs Sugimoto a few more times in the abdomen through their blood-soaked blanket. She kicked, punched but Kira never once gave up, he was going to award her the very same fate he had gifted her husband.

Death.

No matter how much she resisted, it wasn’t enough, Kira had the upper hand. She was at a major disadvantage since at the beginning of the struggle because she got stabbed. It was messy, blood soaked the bed as both Mr and Mrs Sugimoto died of their massive blood loss. Arnold ran into the room as Mrs Sugimoto took her last breath. A frantic bark echoed in the deadly silent room as Kira turned around to face the dog. Arnold quickly made a run for it, hoping to make it into Reimi’s room and warn her about the strange man who had just murdered her parents like they were nothing. Kira immediately began to chase after the dog, he knew where Arnold wanted to go and he had made the effort to memorise the layout of the house, he knew how to get to Reimi’s room before Arnold and ambush him there. He took a small detour inside the house as Arnold ran and barked, hoping to alert someone in the quiet neighbourhood. Kira held his bloodied knife in his hand, waiting for the dog patiently so that he could slaughter Arnold like an animal ready for dinner.

Arnold immediately stopped by Reimi’s closed room door, it was opened when he left. Arnold was confused as Kira pounced onto Arnold and sliced his throat while closing his mouth shut so that there wouldn’t be any sound made by the faithful dog. Kira realised that Arnold’s blood would probably flow into Reimi’s room so he decided to drag Arnold all the way back to the master bedroom and hang him on the coat rack, letting his blood drip while waiting for Reimi under her parents’ bed. The slow, rhythmic dripping would most likely wake up the young girl, he hoped. She was the only person left to kill, and she was his main target.

“Arnold?” Reimi’s soft voice echoed in the hours after minutes of waiting. “Mama? Papa?”

Poor girl, she had no idea that they were all dead. Kira could almost laugh at this but he couldn’t risk blowing his cover. He needed to wait for her to enter the room. Kira could feel the panic in each and every footsteps coming from Reimi as she approached her parents’ bedroom. They were soft and cautious, she was scared and knew something was up, he could feel that coming from her. Her next few footsteps were cautious as she started to realise that something was up. She had no idea that this was like a game of cat and mouse, she was the mouse walking straight into the trap made by the sneaky cat.

The soft creaking of the door alerted to Kira that Reimi had entered the room. She hadn’t screamed at the sight of her parents, maybe the room was too dark for her to be able to see something. “Mama? Papa?” She mumbled, only to recieve silence as a response, which did nothing to reassure the poor girl. Reimi hadn’t noticed the carnage on her parents’ bed as Kira had arranged them to make it look as though they were sleeping peacefully. Reimi slowly opened the closet in her parents’ room and almost collapsed onto the floor as she took in the sight.

Her beloved dog was nearly decapitated and was hanging inside the closet. She almost let out a loud gasp and her hands were trembling beside her. Her breathing started to get heavier as well. “You have such soft and cute hands, Miss,” Kira announced from under the bed. “I already killed your parents.” Reimi immediately bolted as tears were running down her cheeks, the terrifying reality finally dawning on her. Kira immediately started to chase after her.

“Oh god oh god,” Reimi mumbled as she practically flew with every single footstep she took. Her parents were already killed? This better be a nightmare. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare. Her parents cannot be dead. This couldn’t be happening to her. She needed to get her and Rohan out of here. She knew the layout of her own house and knew which way to take. Rohan was sleeping in a room at the very end of the corridor and if they were to jump off the window in that room, there would be a bush below to break their fall. It was perfect, she’d lock the door as well, to prevent whoever the hell just murdered her parents from murdering her and Rohan. The door to Rohan’s room was wide open, welcoming the panic-filled girl into it. Reimi hadn’t caught a glimpse of the murderer before she locked the room shut. She immediately dropped onto the floor, catching her breath. It felt like she had ran for hours and hours even though it was less than 30 seconds. Her lungs felt like it was collapsing on her and her muscles felt weak, but she needed to escape. Young Rohan awoke from the loud noise caused by Reimi slamming the door and stared around, scared.

“Rohan,” Reimi whispered as she slowly got up and made her way towards the boy. “We’re going to play a game ok?” She asked sweetly, forcing the sweetest smile she could to avoid the young child from worrying. “You have to keep very quiet for this game, alright?”

Rohan nodded at every word Reimi told him, understanding the rules of the game. It had almost broke her heart, the poor kid didn’t know that if her plan had failed, their lives end today. “We are playing hide-and-seek with my parents and we have to stay very quiet once we jump out of the window,” Reimi continued, fighting back tears. “It starts now.”

The heavy footsteps of the murderer could be heard from outside as Reimi quickly stumbled towards the window, opening it and creating a large opening enough for the both of them. The doorknob rattled, startling the child but he remembered the rules, he remained silent. Reimi dashed towards the young boy and slowly started to push him out the window, all the while reminding him to stay quiet. “Be good alright?” Reimi requested. Rohan nodded at the request as Reimi slowly started to let him down from the second storey and into the bush below.

A loud crash from behind had startled she couldn’t pinpoint where she had heard it. The third plunge was the worst, he purposely dragged the blade down her back, as if he was unzipping her. Reimi let out an inhumane scream as she felt the pain on her back. “Why?” She asked. “What did I do?” Her question recieved no answer as her whole body collapsed onto the floor, landing face down into a pool of her own blood. In fact, the murderer started to focus on her hands, the very thing that he was here for. He started to caresse his own face with her hand, which digusted Reimi to no end. She was being killed for someone’s fetish? She felt the cool, wet blade being pressed against her wrist, as if he was estimating, calculating, guessing which spot would be the best for him to cut off her hand. She could feel herself dying, her consciousness slipping away from her, her energy leaving her body. She hadn’t finished living her teenage life yet.

She tried to catch a glimpse of her murderer but her eyes shut down on her before she could. Kira watched as Reimi took her last breath, her whole body relaxing, every movement ceased to exist. He had finally found the right spot to chop off her hand and it was just below her wrist. He had to do it carefully, to avoid ruining her precious hand. He pressed his knife down as though he was chopping up chicken breast and began the process. Her hand had to be chopped off carefully, he couldn’t risk anything, not when he had come so far.

Just as he was half way through Reimi’s hand, he heard the sound of police sirens and they were closer than he liked. He was so close, if only he had a bit more time. He wasted most of his time looking for a chair to smash the damn door open. He couldn’t take Reimi’s hand as a prize for his first murder. Hell, he wasn’t going to risk getting caught for his first crime. He quickly made his escape through the back door before the police could see him. He was wearing black so he blended well with the darkness that the night had provided.

Officer Higashikata was the first on the scene. This was one of the worst crime scenes that he has ever seen in his whole life while working to protect this town where his family lives. “Goodness…” He muttered as another officer found Kishibe Rohan laying in a bush, he immediately broke into tears as soon as the officer held him up to present him to Officer Higashikata.

“Reimi snuck me out the window!” The little boy cried. “Reimi snuck me out the window!”

“This is the Sugimoto’s residence?” Said the officer holding up Rohan, he was clearly surprised. The Sugimotos were known for their kindness in the community, especially their only child, Reimi.

Weeks, months, years flew by since the murder. The Kishibes left the town, the Kiras never found out what their only son did and died in peace. Nobody found out the truth for years.

That was until Rohan returned to Morioh and a whole bizarre adventure began in the town of Morioh.

[slimesidian]

do you have any headcanons for npg/npc grain?

Oh do I, yes I do OP I have many many headcanons on NPG, and 3/4(those being myself, Mod Obsidian, and Mod Leaf) of the mods have their own separate NPG designs but this will be about mine, who I’ve lovingly nicknamed Charley! The information will be under the design.

He looks like this, and despite the name, he is not an NPC, or a robot. He’s a Netherborn, which means he can be summoned and that leads to people usually mistaking him as a demon(like Grian did). He also isn’t evil. When Grian summoned him, Charley was still young(as Netherborns live a very long time and their younger stage of life is about 40 to 50 Player years) and thus a tad unstable. He also didn’t look like Grian at first, but he was so fond of the blond that he used his shapeshifitng powers(because some Netherborns, not all, can be shapeshifters) to replicate his appearance, and since Grian thought he was more of a mob than a Player, he nicknamed him NPG Grian. 

Now at first, Grian found Charley to be absolutely annoying, because he wouldn’t stop bothering Grian and almost got murderous when G didn’t want to build rustic houses. Then of course came Robot Grian, which only made Charley even more violent because Grian just replaced him pretty much... Things continued this way n Charley locked himself in his closet so he didn’t have to deal with Grian hating him. Eventually, Grian opened the door and talked to Charley and the two had a conversation about all of it and before Grian left for Evo, the two had a better understanding of each other and were much more like siblings than anything. They also fixed Robot Grian(or Roby) and he stayed behind in the creative world with Charley, the two ending up like brothers. 

Grian visits the creative world to see the two whenever he gets the chance, usually every week to two weeks or after a big event ends(Like 3rd Life or MCC) before he goes back to HC. Although when he was gone longer than they expected for Evo n HC6, the two thought maybe he’d forgotten about them, and it wasn’t until HC6 ended that they learned why he had been away for so long.

This is messy but good lord I love NPG n Robot Grian, oh and also Grifter, he’s good too and he lives with them as well. I also have decided two more beloveds live with them but... that’s something I need to make drawings for first :)

-Mod Slime

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Paint My Spirit Gold

Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow

Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 2187

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]

- 

A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence. 

“Wow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,” he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.

“My goodness, I’m famous,” he drawled. “The Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.”

Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post he’d been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- he’d made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.

“How kind of you, Remus,” he said. “All of you should go scold him for what he’s done to poor Jake here.”

Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.

The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.

“And our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why don’t we show the Duke some appreciation?”

-

[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]

- 

“You know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.”

The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick

“French onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.”

Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos. 

“So we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. You’re going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories you’ve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.” 

And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him. 

“Now the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough… at least, that’s what every man I’ve ever slept with tells me.”

Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment. 

He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table.  He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop. 

'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-I’ll-kick-it" o'clock. 

-

[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]

-

Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didn’t need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides… he was fine. Really. 

He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in. 

“What do you mean I’m not in my kitchen?” Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. “My goodness, when did that happen?”

He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. “Yes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch… and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, I’m not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldn’t stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.”

Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soon’s, a few theories about the “attempted murder,” Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the “attempted murder” but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Duke’s living room?

“Oh, VampSuga,” he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, since I can’t reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-”

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:

“VampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit. 

Starstruck96: who?

IneffableSnek: lmao

FeralBeauYasha: lol

VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! They’re totally dating. I will die on this hill. 

FeralBeauYasha: Isn’t the duke w/ PatPat?

IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf

FeralBeauYasha: ohh

VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceit’s stream today? I swear that’s the Duke’s livingroom. 

StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch

IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean

IneffableSnek: im watching the duke’s old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons he’s in a living room kinda like deceit’s 

FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too

VampSuga: DUKECEIT”  /end ID]

-

"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenient…" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin. 

"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."

Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh… future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is called…” He squinted at his phone. “Amish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.”

Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned “Amish chic” to “2008 rave attire” to “ok now you guys are just fucking with me” (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left. 

“Ok so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that I’m gonna call ‘sexy librarian.’ I couldn’t find this exact sweater online, but-” he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. “My boyfriend had something that was close enough.”

Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.

“They’re going to lose their minds,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.

“Shoo, I’m getting naked.”

-

[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus “The Duke” Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: “my viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!” /end ID]

-

DukeceitStan

first and only dukeceit shipper ig

DukeceitStan

wow there’s so many of you now! Hi!!

DukeceitStan

i want this to be canon so bad omg

DukeceitStan

i mean just look

[image]

how 

[image]

cute

[image]

[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.

The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceit’s hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left. 

The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand. 

The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]

- 

“Remus, it’s almost two in the morning. Come to bed.”

“I’m coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.”

“Mm. I can’t believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.”

“You should try harder.”

“Come to bed and maybe I will.”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?”

“Sure. They figured it out anyway.”

“Sweet. Ok, Jannie, I’m coming.”

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: “Dukeceit is canon.” /end ID] 

[mhalachai]

advance snippet: Updating Wednesdays on Patreon (The Untamed)

So. Do I need to write an Untamed modern!AU with a college twist (Lan Xichen is a music professor in Canada) in which Wei Wuxian attempts to self-therapy himself by creating a graphic novel fantasy AU version of his life (aka the real story of Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation) and Lan Xichen attempts to rebuild his life after a toxic relationship ended? I mean probably not but has that ever stopped me?  here’s the intro snippet we’ll see how things go.

(Title is tentatively Updating Wednesdays on Patreon because i don’t know what to call this thing)

~~

The first day of August finds Lan Xichen in a coffee shop, tinkering with the syllabus for his new music theory course, when his phone pings with a message.

> Lan Wangji: Brother.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Ying has asked me to inform you that he will be publishing the first collection of pages in his new graphic novel on Patreon this afternoon.

Lan Xichen smiles at Lan Wangji's tone. For all that his little brother is more verbose in electronic communication than verbal, he's always so exact.

> To Lan Wangji: Can't wait! What's it about?

The little cursor blinks for a while as Lan Wangji continues to type. Lan Xichen just hopes that his brother-in-law's creative enthusiasm isn't running up against Lan Wangji's sensibilities.

Finally, a reply appears.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Ying wants me to tell you that it is completely fictional.

This gives Lan Xichen pause. Why on earth would Wei Wuxian, or Lan Wangji himself for that matter, need to make that declaration?

> Lan Wangji: It is a high fantasy xianxia story.

Before Lan Xichen can ask why that is causing this odd message exchange, another notification pops up on his phone.

> Wei Wuxian: Lan Xichen! Lan Zhan types so slow! It's just a different art style I wanted to try out and it snowballed from there!

> Wei Wuxian: I know you follow me on Patreon so you're going to get the notification this afternoon so I wanted to warn you hahaha

> Wei Wuxian: All names and places are purely fictional. I don't really have a sword.

Another message arrives, with all the information Lan Xichen needs.

> Lan Wangji: This matters a great deal with Wei Ying.

Lan Xichen smiles at his brother's words. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have been together since their junior year of high school, through a great deal of personal difficulties on both sides, and are still as fiercely protective of each other as ever. He loves them both for it.

> To Lan Wangji: Thank you for the information. I'm sure it will be great.

> To Wei Wuxian: Can't wait to see it! Anything you do is always great.

No more messages arrive, so Lan Xichen goes back to considering how to change the quiz structure of his musical theory class to avoid a marking crisis with the evaluation of his ensemble class.

Finally, as Lan Wangji gathers up his papers to leave, one last message comes in on his phone.

> Lan Wangji: Thank you for your support. We all appreciate it.

Attached to the message is a photo taken of Lan Wangji's family, he and Wei Wuxian holding Lan Yuan between them. The toddler grins at the camera, his arms around Wei Wuxian's neck. Wei Wuxian's looks at the camera, dark circles under his eyes like he's working through the night again, while Lan Wangji only has eyes for his husband.

It's so wholesome and loving that a sliver of pain rakes through Lan Xichen's heart. He's happy for his brother. His brother deserves the world. Lan Wangji deserves being loved, and to love.

Not everyone gets that. Sometimes, that falls apart.

Sometimes, for some people, love is just an illusion.

Lan Xichen tucks his phone away and leaves the coffee shop.

~~

He gets home mid-afternoon, and spends a while stowing away the groceries he picked up on his walk. The neighbourhood has several Greek and Persian markets and he's able to buy most of what he needs on foot, saving the Chinese markets in Richmond for his weekly dim sum brunches with Lan Wangji's family when he can borrow the use of Lan Wangji's sensible and economical mini-van.

He doesn't drive any more, not since—

Lan Xichen stops and puts down the bag of avocados. His mind is a funny place, bringing up the oddest things at the most inconvenient of times.

He doesn't drive anymore. He doesn't need to, using the bus and the odd taxi to transport his instruments up to the university for performances. The public transit system is so much better.

Safer.

He goes back to putting away the vegetables, pulls out a cookbook (new, spine uncreased, bought for him by Lan Qiren for his birthday) and opens it at random. He's never had coconut curry salmon before, but he has all the ingredients.

Trying new things. He's supposed to be trying new things.

The recipes says it will only take half an hour to make, so he goes up to his office and turns on his computer to check his work email. The message fly fast and furious, some about the new department head, some about class enrollment, a few from students asking if they can get onto his waitlist. He replies to the most urgent, files the rest, then checks his personal email.

The notification from Wei Wuxian's Patreon is up, so Lan Xichen clicks it.

Then he sits back, frankly impressed. He's seen Wei Wuxian's comic style progress since the boy was drawing silly cartoons to entertain Lan Wangji in history class, but even he wasn't prepared for this.

The art is gorgeous. Stylized figures, intricate period costuming, rich backgrounds – it's truly a work of art.

Then he gets a better look the two characters' faces, and laughs out loud. It's Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, clear as day, with long hair and flowing robes. Wei Wuxian's even managed to capture that exasperated-yet-fond look Lan Wangji has whenever Wei Wuxian is being particularly loud.

The introduction is even better. "Join our hero Lan Wangji and dashing rogue Wei Wuxian as they battle deadly monsters and forge a path with demonic cultivation!"

Wei Wuxian hasn't even changed their names. True, he uses his mother's surname professionally, so Cangse Ying can't be easily tracked back, but still.

Lan Xichen wonders for a moment if Lan Wangji is okay with this, but then he notices that the project text is available in both English and in Chinese, with the Chinese written in Lan Wangji's style.

They worked on this together, then.

Trying not to think about why that makes his chest feel funny, Lan Xichen opens to the first page--

-- Which features a bruised and bloodied Wei Wuxian falling off a cliff while a horrified Lan Wangji screams after him.

Confused, Lan Xichen makes sure he hasn't accidentally read the last page first. No, this is the first. Still a little baffled, he clicks to the next page, sees the stylized banner that reads six years ago and relaxes. This is Wei Wuxian's style of using flashbacks to interrupt the narrative flow. Lan Xichen spent most of Lan Wangji's university years hearing his brother's despair for Wei Wuxian's artistic choices in essay form.

But enough about the past. Lan Xichen settles in to read the first chapter of the story, where Wei Wuxian and his siblings (Jiang Yanli drawn lovingly, Jiang Cheng with a bigger frown and more menacing eyebrows than Lan Xichen remembers) traveled to the Cloud Recesses (the sarcastic nickname Wei Wuxian gave to Lan Qiren's West Vancouver mansion) for cultivator lectures. Lan Xichen is there on the page, too, drawn taller and far more imposing than he is in real life.

The first encounter between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji is fantastical and improbable and, according to Lan Xichen's recollection, almost completely accurate. Wei Wuxian had mouthed off at Lan Wangji at the weekend orientation camp for their new arts high school, Lan Wangji glared the boy into submission, then later that night when Wei Wuxian tried to sneak back onto school grounds with alcohol, he and Lan Wangji had gotten into a fight. Verbal, instead of with swords, and without the supernatural murder victims, but Lan Xichen remembered everything else from Lan Wangji's indignant recitation on his return home.

He keeps reading, enjoying the art and the lyrical narration, and keeps enjoying it right up to the scene when Nie Huaisang appears on the page to offer Lan Qiren a present, Meng Yao standing right behind him.

Lan Xichen doesn't remember standing up, but here he is, two feet away from his computer, heart pounding. He hadn't—Why—

What was Meng Yao doing in a story about Wei Wuxian's high school years?

Taking a deep breath, Lan Xichen makes himself return to his desk. As far as he knew, he was the one who introduced Meng Yao to Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, when the boys were in university and after he and Meng Yao started dating--

Lan Xichen can feel his heartbeat slow, as he tries to breathe. He needs to stop this foolishness over Meng Yao. They dated before living together for a while, that was all. They broke up. It happens to people all the time.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were in college for most of that time, anyway, living their lives. They barely knew Meng Yao, even if Wei Wuxian's sister married Meng Yao's half-brother. They couldn't know how badly Lan Xichen had messed up their relationship, how terrible he had been to live with. It was his fault that—

Stop.

Stop.

It's over. In the past. A story that has Meng Yao as a minor character isn't going to mess with Lan Xichen's head. He's not going to let it.

He exhales and makes himself look back at the screen.

Meng Yao only shows up a few more times. For some reason, he's the only character who isn't tagged with his own name. He's there handing over the present to Lan Qiren, standing in front of Nie Huaisang when the Wens arrive, then in two last panels in which he tells the on-screen Lan Xichen that he has to return to Nie Mingjue's side.

Lan Xichen's stomach sours. He and Nie Mingjue had been close, before Meng Yao came into Lan Xichen's life. After that, Lan Xichen hadn't had much time for anyone else. That was normal, Meng Yao always said. People in love only needed each other.

Lan Xichen picks up his phone, then puts it down. He can't ask Lan Wangji about this. It would be weird. Wei Wuxian must just be making artistic narrative choices.

The chapter ends soon after, with Wen Qing and Wen Ning welcomed grudgingly into Cloud Recesses. The next chapter is due up in two weeks, the page declares, and welcomes any comments or feedback. A few people are already posting, gushing over the art work and discussing the teaser from the opening page.

Wanting to be supportive, Lan Xichen writes a small review, complimenting the artistic style, the intricacies of the outfits, poses a query as to the different colour palettes between the first page (dark, red, menacing) and the flashback scenes in Cloud Recesses (light, airy, hopeful), then translates the comment into English and posts both versions up. If Lan Wangji is going though all the trouble of ensuring a bilingual experience, then he will too.

He should go start dinner, he really should, but some part of him is drawn back to the first panel in which Meng Yao appears. He's shorter than Lan Xichen remembers in life, the long hair and braids suiting his face.

It's been so long since Lan Xichen last saw Meng Yao. He's not sure what he's thinking. Is he wistful? Mournful? Sad?

He doesn't know. He never knows what he feels about Meng Yao, which was the problem. He's not normal about feelings. Even Lan Wangji, whose brain is a unique and complicated thing, looking for order and reason and patterns in an illogical and messy world, loves fiercely, feels passionately. Maybe he got all the love in the family, and Lan Xichen got stuck with the stunted and undergrown heart.

Stirring, he pages back to the first appearance of his on-screen twin. The Lan Xichen on the screen looks patient, kind, a smile hiding behind his eyes.

He hadn't realized this is how Wei Wuxian sees him.

He picks up his phone.

> To Wei Wuxian: What an incredible achievement! The art is amazing!

> To Wei Wuxian: Where is the story from? As it's a work of fiction and has nothing to do with your real life ;)

> Wei Wuxian: Oh hahahha the story is a collaboration of a bunch of ideas! I can't tell u more (sworn to secrecy by my collaborators) but so glad you like it!!!!!!

> To Lan Wangji: Did you do the writing? I love the dialogue.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Wuxian did most of the English. I made it better and did the translation.

> To Lan Wangji: Have you told uncle about this project?

> Lan Wangji: He prefers to speak of my composition achievements.

Lan Xichen puts his phone down and rubs his eyes. The old tension between Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji never goes away. It started in high school with Lan Qiren's disapproval of Wei Wuxian, continued into university with Lan Qiren's disapproval of Wei Wuxian as well as Lan Wangji's decision to attend a local university for musical studies instead of going to Julliard in Lan Xichen's footsteps, and outrage at the news that Lan Wangji asked Wei Wuxian to marry him before they even finished their undergraduate degrees.

The resulting years had been a long-standing cold war, with Lan Xichen trying to mediate in the middle. Even the arrival of Lan Yuan on the scene twenty months previous hadn't softened both sides into anything resembling ease.

If Lan Wangji doesn't want to tell their uncle that he and his husband are collaborating on a semi-biographical graphic novel, Lan Xichen isn't going to muddy the waters.

> To Lan Wangji: It sounds like you're enjoying the project.

> Lan Wangji: Working with Wei Ying on any project is enjoyable. I read that couples with young children should try to engage in a mutual hobby outside of parenting.

> To Lan Wangji: Very wise.

He wonders if he should ask about Meng Yao, types out a message to that effect, then deletes it.

> To Lan Wangji: I should start dinner – see you on the weekend for brunch?

>Lan Wangji: Yes.

Lan Xichen puts his phone down. The days are long in August and the sun still bright, but he's tired and he doesn't know why.

~~

anyway that’s where this whole disaster is going. new fandoms are fun. 

[zuffer-weird-girl]

I gotta know what Kai meeting his SO's family would be like. How would he react if one of his SO's family tried to get her to break up with him, ditch their wedding, or try to get them divorced.

I hope you guys don't get bothered with this type... sorry, if anything I will make one different or headcanons if its more complicated

It has been a year and eight months already that he was dating you, and things were only getting more... intimate.

He even let you meet Pops. POPS out of all people... he didn't liked to remind that day but at least the elder liked you... a lot actually, for even telling embarrassing stories about a very young Chisaki...

He never felt his face burning with such passion after that day...

So he knew that he was taking seriously this relationship... although, there was your family as well, which he never saw once.

You did mentioned about them from time to time but actually saw or in person or in video calls? Nope. Never.

You lived alone but your parents still lived on the same country, but yet, really far away from you. But every once in a while you would visit them or for the holidays or some urgency that ghey would call you.

He tried mentioning them on the topic once in a conversation, but you merely responded with a laugh and 'they are loud and sometimes a bit too much excited with things, you wouldn't atture them for too long trust me.'

He was... slightest offended at that one. He convived with Mimic, so what is loud in comparation with that man?

Conveniently, one time where he proposed the idea of a date night you sadly had to decline, saying that you needed to go to a family gathering.

Perfect. He thought.

"Need company?" He asked while you were still tidying up your bag.

"Kai, love, I know you worry a lot about me, buy no way in hell Kurono will come with me in my family reunion. They might think he is my boyfriend instead." His eye twitched at the disgusting mention before he sighed to regain his calm.

"Stupid, I'm talking about me accompanying you." He growled while looking for his dress shirt.

You looked at him with wide eyes before smirking, lifting one of your eyebrows up.

"You? My family? Together? On a family gathering no less?" He nodded numbly, sighing in relief of seing his shirt neatly clean and ironed.

"You have the courage?" He sended you a hot glare after he put on his shirt.

"What do you mean with this? Its just a bunch of people, not some... whatever it makes someone be afraid of."

You giggled before successfully forcing your bag to close.

"Just asking, just asking." You smiled up at him, feeling that bit of anxiousness and excitement at the same time. "Only if you want to."

"If I offered is because I want to. Is simple." He went to pick his tie but you had placed your hand in front of it, preventing him to take it.

He arched an eyebrow in irritation before you explained.

"Is a barbecue... not a extremely expensive event..."

"I see. Can I at least grab my jacket if you wouldn't mind oh angel of my?" He asked sarcastically, deadpanning at your 'sure' and ignoring the blush om his cheeks when you kissed his covered nose.

~

"Look at who is!" Your sister yelled from the door, caming to give you a hug before looking up and down at yourself wjth a teasing smile.

"Didn't change the slightest!"

"Neither you sis." You sighed before Chisaki got up from his seat and closed the door of the car, looking around numbly.

Your sister gasped before pushi g you close to her to whispwr in your ear.

"Who is that?!"

"My boyfriend. Keep your eyes to your husband will you?" You said, hidding the hint of jealousy on your teasing tone of voice.

Chisaki aproached you and nodded silently at your sister who was elbowing your arm a bit too much.

Is she sick? Stop elbowing my angel.

"Uh.. this is my older sister, (S/N)." Before you could even introduce your boyfriend properly a pair of huge arms enveloped in your waist and lifted you up from behind making you yelp.

"Hey shorty! So long that you didn't appeared!" The man laughed along with you.

Chisaki's hands immediately turned to fists as his eyes went murderous looking at scene in front of him.

Who was this filth who even dared to rouch his angel in front of him in such a way? Didn't he liked living?

"Oi! You're going to break her!" The woman yelled before the man smiled teasingly at her and putted you down.

"I swear to God you're almost broked my ribcage at that hug...ouch." you whined placing a hand on your side while the man finally noticed Chisaki's presence, he also didn't miss the murderous look on his eyes.

"Yo! Taking by seing the situacion here you are her boyfriend right? Nice meeting ya!" The man went to shook hands with Chisaki before you grabbed and placed back down, noticing how your boyfriend's gloves weren't in his hands anymore.

He spoke coudly "And who are you supposed to be?"

The man laughed, ignoring Chisaki's comments, while rubbing the back of his neck.

"Older brother. (B/N) (L/N) to be more specific about it." He turned to you with a apologetic smile before pointing to one car "Sorry sis but I have to get back home."

"It's alright. I bet both of you are busy, but thanks for showing it." You smiled at both of them before they sayed their goodbyes.

Chisaki stared before looking at you in question.

"These were only my older siblings, there's one more inside... if she even came in the first place."

"They are usually this... touchy?"

You nodded before laughing at the irritated and rather regretful expression of his.

"Relax Kai." You offered your hand which he surprisingly grabbed. "They are not going to touch you if you or me say to not do it... I hope."

"You hope? How comforting. If it happens a murder here is not my fault."

"You're not killing anyone of my family!"

"It was a joke." He said monoustly before daring to step closer to that house.

It wasn't. It wasn't a joke. He was serious.

~

"Your family is the reason why the population is overloading..." he growled in disgust close to you in pure annoyance and evidently very uncomfortable about what happened.

How the fuck could so many people fit in one place and be so LOUD? LOUDER THAN MIMIC?!

He never so desperately wanted to hold hands with you in all his life because dear god if someone touched him and you weren't close...

First he met, ironically, was your father... the man first commented was about his fucking jacket. Out of all things. Not even 'who is the man?' or 'good afternoon. Who are you?; no, the bastard just preferred to say

"Honey what the hell is this friend of yours wearing it? And why the fuck this mask dude? You're part of a gang or something?"

"Yaku-" he went to correct whole trying to hold back his anger before you slapped your dad's arm.

"Dad." you growled threateningly at your father which he only asked why the irritation.

Then after he met your grandparents... your grandfather seemed... to catch pretty quick aho was your boyfriend.

"Hey aren't ya that leader from the mafia or something?" He whispered to not catch much attention. You mentally faced palmed while Chisaki nodded.

"Ah I see. So you guys still rob a lot of mon-"

"That is business talk which I guess it wouldn't be on your interest neither it is my obligation to tell you something."

Your grandma snorted at that while the old man scoffed in offense.

"I like this one dear." He heard her whisper in your ear.

...this one? Excuse him old lady he had a fucking name.

Then your mother... which had to ask his name and try to hug him as a greeting.

"Woah woah! Mom you can't just hug a person without knowing them!" You exclaimed as you luckily prevented a catastrophe.

"Well of course I don't know him since you mever actually brought him here once. So-" she returned her attention at Chisaki with a huge smile "What's your name sweety? She never spoke your name, only 'my boyfriend this' 'my boyfriend that'..."

First he had cringed at that cursed nickname, them he looked at you silently requesting your help.

"Call me Overhaul." You almost snorted at that one and at the face of your mother.

"That's... not a actual na-"

"Anyway! Come on lets see more of the house shall we?" You thankfully had dragged him out of there.

So there you both were now after MANY INTRODUTIONS, hidded in one room while he tried to ragain his calm and relaxed posture.

"You know we can get out of here, right? I know you aren't confortable with this."

"...Honestly I don't see what's the matter with my jacket for the first place and what if Overhaul was actually my name?" He mumbled more to himself than to you before breathing in and out slowly and getting up from the couch.

"I had worse than this." He commented before he standed his hand for you to get up "But I have to admit it that having you by my side is much... comforting."

"Same my devil." You smiled affectionately at him before nuzzling on his neck as he carresed your hair lovingly.

"You call him your devil?" A child's voice manifested, making you yelp and Chisaki to glare daggers at the kid.

"So that means he is evil, so you can't date my cousin." The boy pointed ul at Chisaki whose merely lifted one of his eyebrows.

"Like you have the power to decided what either me or my partner do with our lifes, midget." You frowned up at him receiving a scoff and his hold on you getting tighter.

He didn't like kids very much... never felt much comfortable about it.

"Uh... What's a midget?" He deadoanned at the kid.

Were they supposed to be this dumb or was this only one?

~

You had to go to the bathroom. You had to leave him standing awkwardly on a wall, begging silently for you to come back before someone cane over to try to have a shitty talk or even worse... a kid asking for him to play with them.

No way in hell.

The unfortunate happenrd when that father of yours approached him and sigh while holding a beer besides him, thankfully not touching.

"So... what are your intentions with my doll?" He choked on his own saliva at that.

What type of question was that?! And so out of no where no less?!

"Did you already... touch them or something?" He lowered his tone of voice while Chisaki merely lifted his eyebrow up.

Was... Was this... supposed to scare him? This?

Seriously?

"For your knowledge, this information is extremely personal and I guess you're not exactly on the right on trying to get this out of me at this failed attempt of intimidation. And just to be clear, I am only aturing this hell hole because of my angel so I would actually appreciate if you don't have those types of comments around me. That is disgusting." He said calmly yet coldly, like he was speaking in a meeting, not with the father of his partner.

Your father oppened his mouth for a moment in surprise before closing it again and repeating his actions for a while. Before laughing. ..

Was this guy sick inthe head or something?

"You have guts. I like that. Especially when my quirkless daughter need someone to protect and care for her." His eye twitched in irritation before he spotted you.

"Angel thank god you're back." He thanked the heavens at seing you again and getting out of that conversation as soon as possible.

"Huh?"

"Remember when you offered to go away? I will take that. Now." He grabbed your hand and dragved you to the door while you giggled at the wide stares.

"Bye everyone! See you soon!"

"We're not coming back for Thanksgiving." He growled to you in disgust while you whispered back, still trying to contain your laugh.

"Definitely not. It's a mess."

[the196thbattalion]

star wars human! police! au

based off of this post

the republic is the most well-known and populated police force in new york. it’s overseen by a creepy old army veteran named general palpatine, but the police force just nicknamed him sidious (and it most certainly was not anakin’s idea nope no what are you talking about).

the general who works in the precinct and makes sure everything is running smoothly and people are happy is this other grandfather-like figure named yoda, who speaks more yiddish than he does english.

he walks around using a cane and is extremely short. his fragile looks also contribute to everyone making sure he takes his medication/checking up on him throughout the day.

obi-wan, mace, plo and luminara all treat him like a grandfather, and they are the ones in charge of planning his surprise birthday party.

the two most well-known investigators there are obi-wan kenobi and anakin skywalker. if you bring up both their names at the precinct, there is a 112% guarantee someone in the room will groan.

obi-wan kenobi is permanently tired. he handles the most paperwork out of anyone in the office, as he often grabs them off of new recruits’ desks when they look like they’re about to collapse. he’s also the unofficial therapist of the precinct, even though they have one with an actual degree in psychiatry. he usually comes to work in oversized sweaters carrying a giant cup of hot black coffee (courtesy of his favorite café manager, cody). kind of a hippie™.

anakin skywalker is the resident angry boi™ of the precinct. yoda offered him a job at the precinct after seeing him map out a seppie attack. imagine his surprise when his old high-school friend “OBI-WAN?!” greets yoda at the door. skywalker is extremely ambitious and is waiting for the day he gets promoted to the same rank as obi-wan. he usually comes to work in a leather jacket holding an iced coffee with cream and sugar (courtesy of his favorite café manager, rex).

any investigations involving the seperatists (or seppies, as their commonly called by most officers), a group of radical individuals trying to get the whole town to revolt against the police, is handled by the iconic skynobi duo.

the seppies have their hands in everything, from simple stick-ups at grocery stores to murders. they believe that the town should be free to do what they choose, as that is how it once was.

the leader tyrannus is supplied by none other than palpatine, but neither of the two have figured it out yet. sidious has been a suspect for a while, but they can never find any hard evidence.

robberies and fraud are handled by asaj, a former gymnast, and grievous, who uses technology to help himself escape captivity. medical staff at the precinct have identified him with some sort of lung condition that gives him a very distinct wheezy voice.

the more brutal attacks, such as beatings and riots, are handled by the twin brothers. obi-wan and maul have unfinished business from their college days, but kenobi refuses to talk about it until it becomes necessary in arresting maul.

plo koon and mace windu handle the more regular investigations.

mace is calm and levelheaded, but extremely strict. he makes sure shit gets done and takes his role as head captain very seriously. yoda and him go waaaaay back, even though he isn’t nearly as old as the former. windu is one of the three other precinct members to speak fluent yiddish.

plo is recognized by most of the “action” cops as someone who makes decisions in favor of keeping his men alive, and not catching the perpetrator. he works closely alongside one of the most recognized action cops named wolffe, and him/his men have (lovingly) dubbed themselves “plo’s bros”. they even made him a father’s day card.

once, in the middle of a firefight, plo was injured, and his command was taken up by pong krell, a highly disliked figure among almost every cop in the precinct. the current in command suggested they go up the front directly into enemy fire, and before he could give the official order, koon broke free of the medical woman’s grip and broke krell’s nose. wolffe had to drag him away before he got himself suspended from the force/shot again.

p/w often end up working with skywalker and kenobi, as the seperatists usually play some role in most of their cases. their meetings together almost always end with mace and anakin arguing over their ranks.

luminara is the psychiatrist and helps younger officers cope with their first shootout/murder scene. she is extremely intelligent, and is often called upon by the captains to look at crimes from a more psychological perspective.

wolffe has been an officer in the force for twelve years, starting at almost the exact same time as plo koon. he developed an attachment to the current batch of newbies he was in when he joined the republic, and they became known as the wolf pack. it was more of a family than wolffe had ever had, and yes, if anything happened to any of them, he would kill everyone responsible and then himself.

BONUS:

when a major case is solved, it takes only a couple hours for the news to circulate around the entire block. as soon as the news reaches the 501st and the 212th, the cafés will bring in freshly made donuts, along with a couple baristas.

that’s how cody officially met obi-wan kenobi, although the manager had seen him around the café. it’s also how the rest of the precinct found out where skywalker got his crazy ass plans from. (thanks rex.)

[holylulusworld]

911 for love (7) – A close call

Summary: You are twenty-five, independent, smart and still a virgin. Annoyed by your friend's comments you want to get rid of the problem by calling a call-boy. Little did you know you will meet two things…love and handcuffs…

Pairing: Cop!Dean x Reader, Bobby Singer, Cole Trenton, Garth Fitzgerald, Michael, OFC's Parks & Miller

Warnings: angst, characters death, blood, caring Dean, language, mentions of sex, a hint of fingering, attempted murder, mentions of murder/knife play (non-sexual)

911 for love Masterlist

Two weeks later…

Face buried between your thighs Dean enjoys the noises he can press out of you. For the last two weeks, he made you scream his name more than you can count.

Here you are again, crying out as he didn’t stop after he came deep inside of you. Dean is determined to make you fall apart for a third time, using his thick fingers.

“Dean…” Hands finding purchase at his shoulders you try to make him stop but Dean is not budging as you push him away. “It’s…oh…god…”

Body trembling you fall back onto the pillow silently cursing your boyfriend's name.

“There she is, my lovely girl…” Smirking Dean looks up at you from between your legs, not sorry at all as you lie boneless on your bed. “Alright. Let’s talk about you moving into my house.”

“Can I catch my breath first, Dean?” Panting heavily, you watch Dean lie next to you, gently moving his fingers over your skin.

“You lost weight, Sweetheart. I want you to eat more…” Punching Dean’s arm you shake your head.

“I told you that I want to live healthier, Dean. We still can eat pizza once a week and ice cream but from now on we will eat salad too. Especially you will eat vegetables with your meat.”

Poking your finger into Dean’s arm you smirk as he flexes his muscle. “Don’t do that…”

“I hate to admit it, but I need to become fitter to make you cum even harder.” Now there’s a cocky grin on Dean’s face, telling you he has dirty things in mind.

“Dean…we barely know each other. I can’t move into your house after being your girlfriend for two weeks.” Dean doesn’t react for a moment before he covers your body with his tall frame, pecking your nose.

“You skip the whole ‘let’s get to know each other’ thing when you already know. All I can say is that I never felt more comfortable around a girl. I love everything about you, Sweetheart.” He does this tongue thing again and your resolve fades.

“You want me to move into your house?” Ludicrous you look up at Dean as he silently nods, smiling as you whimper every time he kisses your lips. “Okay…”

“Okay? AWESOME!” Jumping up Dean grabs his phone to call his brothers number. “Sammy, she said yes…” Dean exclaims, and you toss a pillow at your boyfriend he tells his brother you agreed to move into his house.

“Dean! I barely agreed and you tell your brother?” Dean doesn’t react as you get up to glare at him. He only gives you a dirty grin while his eyes roam your bare skin.

“I for sure enjoy the view, Sweetheart. How about we have a look at my house, and you can decide if you want to move in?” Now Dean’s eyes darken and you smell the trap.

“You only want to get me into your house to not let me go again.” Wetting his lips Dean nods, not ashamed at all.

“I told you that I will not leave your side ever again, Y/N. Let’s pack a few things an check my house out.” While you get dressed Dean tells Garth about your plans only to earn a scoff from Cole.

“Winchester, we can’t let her leave the apartment. We got no clue who the killer is and if he’s still after your girl. I will not risk my career only as you want to bang your chick in your house.” Cole snickers as Dean’s jaw squares.

“Your career? That’s all you think about?” Grabbing Cole’s shirt Dean presses his colleague into the wall, glaring at him as his fist wants to collide with Cole’s face.

“Dean, maybe he’s right. We can stay here and look at your house later.” You want to calm Dean but he won’t give in this time. Cole kept him away from you, and Dean won’t forgive him that easily.

“I can come with you too.” Garth offers as Cole struggles against Dean’s strength. “We can’t keep Ms. Y/L/N hostage in her apartment. She hasn’t left it for weeks.”

“Captain Singer said she has priority. We need to make sure nothing happens to her. You know he blames himself the last victim died as we observed another woman instead of her.”

“I know, Cole but…” Garth sighs as you give him a cracked smile.

“Dean, Garth. I hate to admit it but your colleague is right. We shouldn’t leave my apartment while that crazy guy is still out there.”

----

“You want what?” Bobby curses, pacing around your living room. “We can’t just bring her to your house, Dean. I love you like a son, but this goes too far.”

“Bobby, in my house, she will be safer than anywhere. You knew how dad was…” Glancing at his friend Dean silently pleads him to help him bring you to a safe place.

“John was the best in securing a house but even tho your house is safe, we still need to protect Y/N.” Bobby points toward Cole and Garth, sighing as Dean won’t give in.

“Let me at least show her my house and we can come back here in a few hours. I don’t think the killer will try to get close to my girl while I’m around.” Dean shows Bobby his hidden gun, smirking.

----

“How did you make Bobby agree?” Sliding your fingers over Dean’s thigh you lean your head against his shoulder as he drives toward his house.

“Bobby agreed as two officers will follow us the whole day. They will bring us home too. Don’t you worry. We will check my house and Miller and Parks will stay by our side.” Dean explains he knows both men for years.

“Are those men the same who were around the whole time?” Glancing at the house getting closer you smile as it looks like a home you can imagine raising your children in.

“No. Miller and Parks are new. One of the other officers called in sick, Langston, I think.” Scratching his chin Dean wonders why he knows Langston but not the guy helping him to get into your apartment. “Odd…”

----

“What?” While you follow Dean the two officers split. Miller is following you and Dean while Parks has a look around the house to make sure no one is sneaking around.

“You good, Dean?” Miller knows Dean for years so he can see something is bugging his colleague.

“I don’t know.” Shaking the thought away Dean takes your hand in his, leading you around the house to show you the living room. “I renovated it not months ago. The fireplace is new.”

“It’s beautiful.” Sliding your fingers over the fireplace you smile as Dean tells you he rebuilt it with his brother's help. “I like it…”

“Miller, we got an emergency call. Two colleagues need backup.” Parks runs into the house, panting. “There’s a 133 * going on, maybe a 134 * too, Dean. Can we leave you alone? We asked for back-up. Cole and Garth will be here in half an hour.”

“Go, get the bad guy. I will lock the door and have my gun close by. No reason to be worried.” Dean’s heart is racing but he doesn’t let it show. “Tell anyone my girl is safe in my house…”

“Got it, Dean. We see us later.” Parks and Miller rush out of the house to enter their patrol car.

----

“Cole, relax.” Garth glances out of the window as his colleague pushes the car to its limit. “Dean is a good cop, you know that.”

“Parks and Miller got lured away from his house. Now I can’t reach Dean. I don’t know how, but I’m afraid the killer did all this to get Y/N and Dean alone.” Garth’s throat is dry, letting Cole’s words sink in he tightens the grip at his gun.

“Cole, drive faster…I’ll call Bobby for back-up.”

----

“Officer?” Dean told you to not open the door or answer it but the officer protecting you over the last weeks, guarding your building stands at Dean’s front porch and you don’t know what to do.

“My name is Michael, just call me Michael. We know each other for weeks now.” The officer says and you tighten the grip on the door handle. You don’t know why but you got the feeling you shouldn’t open the door, so you step back, giving the officer a fake smile.

“I’m sorry but Dean locked the door and I’ve got no key. I better call him. He’s upstairs, Officer, I mean Michael.” The man smirks, loving his name leaving your lips and before you can blink he gets his gun out to fire at the lock.

Shrieking you take a step backward, panting as you hear a heavy boot kick the door open. “You seem so lonely, Sweetheart…” Michael snickers and you shudder as he abuses the nickname Dean used lovingly.

“Michael, I’m not lonely. Dean is here…” You take another step backward as Michael steps inside, putting his gun away to look you all over.

“I don’t think so, Y/N. I saw him drive away; his car is gone. We’ve got time…” Smiling Michael gets his favorite knife out, the one he uses to carves his name into his victims while they are still alive. “I will finally enjoy you…”

“Why are you doing this? Why did you kill all these women?” Voice trembling you walk backward till you stop in your tracks, locking eyes with Michael.

“My mother…” Head tilted Michael smirks. “Was a great woman. Did you think she was a monster? No. I’m not some stereotype serial killer.”

He steps closer again, a cold smile on his lips. “I just like hearing a woman beg for her life. All these lonely, horny and desperate women, calling a call boy to not feel lonely…perfect victims…”

Snickering Michael looks at you, still this smile on his lips. “Being lonely is not a crime, asshole.”

“All of them let me into their apartments, stripped for me, even let me handcuff them. Kinky sluts for sure. Now let me see how well you will sing my song…” Michael smirks as he wants to step closer but then he gasps before he falls to his knees.

The sound of a bullet ending his life echoes through the house as Dean steps out of his hideout.

“You okay, Baby Girl?” Nodding you rush to Dean’s side, not looking at the dead man on his floor. “I’m sorry I had to ask you to do this, but we had to be sure.” Slinging an arm around your shoulders Dean leads you out of his house, kissing your hair softly.

----

“How did you know?” Bobby asks while the paramedics check on you.

“I knew all Officers by name, only that guy being so nice to help me get into Y/N’s apartment was an unknown face to me. When Parks and Miller got lured away from my house I was sure someone must’ve known they would be with me.”

Dragging his hand down his face Bobby silently curses. “This is a disaster, Dean. One of us was a killer. No one will ever trust us again…”

“Bobby, honestly I can’t think about the consequences of Michael’s crimes right now. I will fill my report, bring my girl home and make sure she’s alright.” Dean walks toward the ambulance, smiling as you hold tight onto his jacket.

“Do we know why Michael helped Dean to get into her apartment?” Cole watching Dean gently stroke your hair. “This doesn’t make sense to me.”

“I guess, he thought Dean would bring her away from you, Garth and the other officers. With only Dean around, he had a chance to get close to Y/N.” Bobby hands Cole a file, showing pictures of you and Dean at the door of your friends, in the Impala and outside your apartment complex.

“Shit. How could we not see this coming?” While Dean leads you toward his car Cole looks at the pictures again.

“I don’t think anyone would’ve thought the killer could be one of us. Now let’s clean this shit and tell anyone we got the bad guy.”

* 133 = Possibly dangerous person * 134 = Kidnapping

911 for love Tags

@bmrobichaud, @waywardrose13, @delicatefirespyplaid

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom, @thewinchesterco, @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl, @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @hawaiianohana31, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @flamencodiva, @echoesofpassion, @cocklesbelli, @voltage-my2dlove, @fandom-princess-forevermore @thenamelesschibi, @lauravic, @fandomsrourlives, @wittysunflower, @drakelover78, @lemondropirwin, @lonewolf471, @wronglanemendes, @spnhollis, @void-imaginations, @jay-and-dean, @shatteredabby, @juniorhuntersam, @helpmeluci, @neii3n, @goodgodimaweirdperson, @alltimesamantha, @chonisberonica, @supernaturalonice, @stuckys-whore, @shadowkat-83 @officialmarvelwhore, @wecantgiggleitsafandom, @meganywinchester, @shikshinkwon, @miraclesoflove, @yolobloggers, @lu-sullivan, @maniacproffesor, @hollymac79, @straycuties9, @kayla-2000, @ilovefanfic86, @gracefultrenchcoat494, @babygirls-fav, @sadn0va, @spnwoman, @amiquette, @linki-locks11, @geekofmanyforms, @eggingamazinglove, @jessica-marsh09, @spnficgirl, @shut-themoonscone, @thequeenreaders, @countrygal17a, @kteelou, @soryuwifeyxx, @kricketc28, @atomicfandombomb, @defenderrosetyler, @shortwinchester, @maybesomedaygayyyy, @tmiships4life, @deanmonandnegansbitch, @exo-nova, @laxe-from-outer-space, @sabascio, @that-place-called-middle-earth, @the-broken-angel-13, @bunnybaby89, @pandabiiissh, @maddiedott, @fandom-imagines1, @lilulo-12, @theoneandonlymelol, @mblaqgi, @sea040561, @clawsandshotguns, @justsomedreaming, @differentstudentrunawaysposts, @hhiggs, @deepmuffinspymaker, @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel, @cassiopeia-barrow, @mep6811, @jo-like-josette, @supernaturalenchanted, @mscarter213, @trumpettay

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags     

@spnfamily-j2, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @deans-baby-momma, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen, @janicho88, @thefaithfulwriter, @dreaminemz, @negans-lucille-tblr, @akshi8278, @midnightsilver16830, @mrspeacem1nusone, @ria132love, @caligraphee, @the-witch-in-silence, @multisuperfandom, @deansgirl-1968, @justanotherwinchester, @jadesupernatural, @squirrelnotsam, @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo, @roonyxx, @jason-todd-squad, @thevelvetseries, @spnsuper17, @adoptdontshoppets, @woodworthti666​, @frederikkeborup, @psychicforest, @luciathewinchestergirl, @michellemxndes​, @addictedtofictionalcharacters​, @gabifernandessn​, @magssteenkamp​

[sterekshaven]

Ohhh, can I combine for the fluffy asks? If so, numbers 23 and 17, please and thank you! ♥️♥️♥️

I hope you want some sap because that’s what you’re getting xD Thank you for prompting me, and I hope you like this tooth-rotting thing =D ♥ (for the Fluffy Holiday Prompts)

A good tradition ao3 - pillowfort

1914 words | Gen characters: Stiles, Derek, Claudia, Sheriff Stilinski, Laura, Talia, Peter, Cora, Original Hale Characters tags: Fluff, Sappy, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Everyone Is Alive, AU - Childhood Friends, Tooth-Rotting Fluff

Claudia cupped Stiles’ cheeks.

”Relax, honey,” she said, and Stiles took a deep breath, tried to relax. ”You’ve met them a million times, it’s just Talia and her family.”

”I know,” Stiles said. ”That doesn’t make it less terrifying, I know them, I know how protective they are of him.”

”And you know that they adore you,” Claudia said. “You know they trust you.”

Stiles nodded and took another deep breath as John came up behind Claudia and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Talk some sense into our son,” Claudia said and grinned when Stiles huffed.

“Don’t worry about it,” John said, and he sounded so genuine. “Talia might be one of the most powerful alphas on the west coast and known to be ruthless when it comes to protecting her family, but your mom is right, she does adore you. Just don’t fuck up and you’ll be fine.”

“I hate you, dad, so much,” Stiles said, smiling.

The doorbell rang, and Claudia pulled Stiles close to press a kiss to his forehead.

“You’ll be fine, honey,” she said softly, and Stiles smiled at her.

“Thanks, mom.”

“Call if you need me to come to arrest anyone,” John said. “And I promise I’ll avenge you if they kill you.”

“Still hate you, dad,” Stiles said as he hugged him.

He hurried to the door, took another deep breath before opening it. His smile was immediate when he saw Derek standing there, dressed in a button-down under his leather jacket, smiling nervously.

“Hi,” Stiles breathed.

He didn’t know he’d ever get used to dating Derek. He had known him since they were kids, had been in love with him for something like ten years when Derek haltingly and shyly asked him out just a couple of months ago.

“Hi,” Derek said softly. He looked over Stiles’ shoulder. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Stilinski.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” Claudia said. “See you tomorrow.”

Derek gulped and nodded. Seeing him look absolutely terrified of the prospect of celebrating Christmas with them actually relaxed Stiles, and he stepped into his shoes, pulled on his jacket, and picked up the bag with gifts, then he smiled at Derek.

“Ready?” Derek asked.

“Let’s do this,” Stiles said.

Laura opened the front door as Derek parked, her smile huge, and Stiles swallowed nervously.

“Ignore her,” Derek said. “She’s gonna be annoying today.”

“I can’t really ignore her,” Stiles said. “She’s gonna be my alpha.”

“Yeah, in like ten years, you can ignore her today,” Derek said.

“Ugh,” Stiles said, and Derek smiled at him and took his hand.

“It’ll be fine,” he said, “they already love you.” He looked at Laura, or, glared really, and she beamed at them from the door. “Even if they’re annoying as fuck.”

“I’m super nice!” Laura yelled loud enough for Stiles to hear, and he laughed.

“Whatever you say, Lulu,” Stiles said, and Laura’s snarl had him laughing more. “Okay, I think I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will,” Derek said. “Ready to go inside?”

“Might wanna wait for Laura to not be pissed at Lulu anymore,” Stiles said. It was a nickname she had when she was a kid that she for some reason started to hate in her teens. Using it even when she was 27 had her frowning and huffing about it. Stiles looked at Derek and took a deep breath, and Derek squeezed his hand encouragingly. “Okay, let’s do this.”

The ten seconds later that they got to the door, Peter, Cora, Eric, and William had joined Laura there.

“Wow, quite the welcome committee,” Stiles said, his voice a little weaker than he would have liked.

“I thought I told you all to be nice today,” Talia said as she came walking from the kitchen, her sister Celia and Derek’s youngest sister Nova trailing after her.

“I was just welcoming him, it’s not my fault everyone else is here,” Laura said.

“We just want to welcome our future emissary,” Peter said.

“I’m so sorry for my family,” William said. “Welcome, Stiles.”

Stiles liked William. He was the nicest person Stiles had ever met, Stiles was surprised he wasn’t constantly run over by his family, but despite being human in a family of mostly werewolves he had a very strong presence and an even stronger authority, not just because he was the dad to most of them. Even Peter listened when William used his Voice™. Talia mostly just sat next to him looking smug, because he never aimed it at her. 

“It’s lovely to see you,” Talia said. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ temple, and he smiled.

“You too, thank you for having me,” he said.

He put the bag down and pulled his jacket off, then Laura grabbed his hand.

“Okay, come on,” Laura said. “Time for traditions.” She looked Derek over and frowned. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

“I met his parents,” Derek hissed.

“Aaw, loser,” Cora said sweetly.

Stiles barely got his shoes off before Laura started to tug him along to the living room, and Stiles looked at Derek.

“Help me,” he mouthed, smiling.

Derek just rolled his eyes and followed them, carrying Stiles’ bag.

“Okay, here.” Laura let go of Stiles’ hand only to shove a soft Christmas present against his chest. “Open.”

Stiles took the present, looked at it in confusion, then at Laura and Derek. “What.”

“Just do it,” Derek said, and he was unbuttoning his shirt as he rolled his eyes at Laura. “It’s tradition.”

Stiles blinked at him. “Why are you getting undressed?”

“I’m getting changed,” Derek said. “Not undressed, I promise, no weird naked werewolf stuff.”

Laura snorted and Peter laughed softly from where he was standing in the door.

“Okay, if you say so,” Stiles said. He carefully opened the present and was presented with a deep red knitted… fluff. A lot of fluff. Soft fluff, he wanted to cuddle it, but instead he tried to lift it up to see what it was, and two smaller fluffs fell to the floor. “Oh.” He picked them up and realized they were socks, and when he looked at the bigger fluff he saw it was a sweater. “They’re so soft, thank you.”

He looked at Laura and smiled, only to realize she was wearing a similar sweater and fluffy fuzzy socks. He looked at Peter. How had he not noticed they were all wearing big fluffy soft sweaters and matching fluffy fuzzy socks? In his defense, they weren’t the same at all, different colors and styles, some with patterns and some not, but they were all knitted in soft yarn.

Peter’s was black, big but in a way that somehow clung to his body, the v of the neck deep, making him look mostly like his usual and slightly creepy self, while Laura’s was a dusty pink and long enough that coupled with the leggings she was wearing it looked more like a dress, Cora’s was a moss green with a loose turtleneck, long too but not as long as Laura’s.

Derek had gotten his button-down off, and he pulled on a dark purple sweater over the v-neck t-shirt he was wearing. He looked cozier than Stiles had ever seen him, and that was saying something considering he had nicknamed him Cozy two years before they started dating.

”Oh god,” Stiles complained quietly with a groan.

His cheeks heated up when Peter laughed and Laura snorted again.

”Stop staring at Derek, you have the rest of your lives to do that,” Laura said. ”Try them on.”

Stiles grinned at her, even as his cheeks were burning. The rest of their lives, he liked that. He unbuttoned his own shirt, then he pulled the sweater on over his t-shirt and patted it. “It’s so soft,” he groaned. “God, it’s lovely, thank you.”

He sat down and pulled his socks off so he could put the new ones on, and Derek’s smile was so pleased as he watched him.

”You look nice,” he said, and Stiles beamed at him.

”So do you, Cozy.”

Derek put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and leaned down to press a kiss to his temple, and Stiles sat there and smiled stupidly at him until Laura laughed.

“You two,” she said, and Stiles looked at her with burning cheeks. She was smiling softly though. “I’m happy you finally got together, both your pining was getting unbearable, but it’s a little nauseating watching you gaze lovingly at each other, so I’m gonna go see if they need help in the kitchen.”

“Shut up,” Derek grumbled.

“Love you, little brother,” Laura said and grinned as she jogged off to the kitchen.

”Ignore her,” Derek told Stiles, who grinned and stood up to wrap his arms around Derek.

”The pining, huh?” he asked and Derek looked away, down then to the side. Stiles brushed a kiss to his pink cheek. ”I knew I was pining, but she did say both.”

“Shut up,” Derek said, but he smiled as he tucked his face against Stiles’ neck.

“Aaw, Cozy,” Stiles said and pressed kisses to the side of Derek’s face.

Christmas with the Hales was loud, chaotic, messy, and absolutely wonderful. Derek was quiet compared to the rest of his family, had always been—though it did get worse after Kate’s abuse and attempt to murder his whole family—but he sat in the middle of it all, constantly touching Stiles, either holding his hand or with an arm around him, or, when he couldn’t do either of those, sat close enough that their arms brushed, and he smiled and looked so happy as everyone talked around him.

Stiles loved the Hales, had since he was just a kid, and he could be as loud and chaotic as any of them, but he found himself looking at Derek most of the time. Derek smiled when he noticed, leaned in for a kiss on the cheek or a little nuzzle, and Stiles smiled helplessly. He was so gone on Derek it was ridiculous.

When the food and presents and then dessert were done, they all gathered in the living room. Stiles found a corner of a couch and quickly nabbed that, then he pulled Derek down next to him. He wrapped his arms around Derek, who leaned against him, looking content and soft in his big purple sweater and matching soft fuzzy socks.

”I like this tradition,” Stiles said against Derek’s cheek.

”Hm?” Derek asked.

”The soft knitted sweaters and socks one,” Stiles said.

Derek smiled and tucked himself even closer, he was nearly up in Stiles’ lap. ”It’s nice,” he said. ”I’m glad you’re here for it.”

”Me too,” Stiles said.

”And we didn’t even scare you away,” Laura said, grinning at them.

”I’ve known you basically my entire life,” Stiles said. ”I’m to be your emissary when you’re the alpha. I might have been nervous, meeting you all as his boyfriend, but scare me away? Yeah, no, that’s not gonna happen, you’re stuck with me.”

Laura leaned against Derek, smiling at Stiles as she reached over to stroke her hand over his cheek. ”And you’re stuck with us.”

”I think I can live with that,” Stiles said. 

Derek smiled and squeezed Stiles’ hand as he wrapped his other arm around Laura to tug her closer, and Stiles looked at the Hales, all of them smiling and happy and soft in their sweaters and socks. Yeah, he could live with that.

[itsclydebitches]

The RWBY/It Crossover That Absolutely No One Asked For But You’re Getting Anyway

Ozpin - The “gifted child” who is already sick of that shit, both because of the bullying he’s gotten for it at school (what middle schooler uses his vocabulary and dresses in a suit?) and because it has given his parents another reason to ignore him. You’re basically a functioning adult! The Losers are Ozpin’s first group of friends outside of his little sister Salem, gone missing one day and now re-appearing in his basement, pale like she drowned, with strange black veins threading over her skin... Though they all silently think of him as the leader once the horror begins, he discourages that whenever possible. He’s done with being the odd one out. 

Qrow - Qrow “Trashmouth” Branwen. Twin brother of Raven who also disappeared around the same time as Salem, though only Qrow knows that’s because she finally hitch-hiked out of their fucked up town. He hasn’t heard from her since. Unfailingly annoying and loyal in turns, Qrow’s nickname is only partly because of his foul-mouthed tendencies. The group decided he needed another, proper nickname after he quietly told them that he and Raven would like to be known by those names indefinitely now, regardless of what’s on any birth certificates. The Losers respect that. Devoted to Ozpin in particular, Qrow often uses his status as the (presumed) local bad boy to keep others off his friends’ backs. 

James - Coming from the only Jewish family for miles around, James has his own share of problems, thanks. Lately, with his bar mitzvah approaching, he’s found his adoration of science is somewhat at odds with his faith, especially when so much is riding on him continuing tradition. Quieter and more reserved than the others, James was inwardly pleased to make a friend in Ozpin, the only one around capable of keeping up with his theories---even if they disagree 99% of the time. When all the horror starts, it’s James who is the most resistant to it, first through sheer disbelief, then later through confidence in his own sense of what is and is not reality. It’s often his mental fortitude that gets them out of tight spots. 

Bart - Manic almost to the point of being obnoxious (some Losers would lovingly argue that there’s no ‘almost’), Bart has ADHD according to a couple online quizzes he took with Glynda. That’s the best they can do with no money, no resources, and no one else who cares. It’s fine though. They make do. With an intense passion for all things history, Bart is more than happy to start researching the town once Ozpin brings it up. A good thing too, considering that he’s probably the only one capable of working through that many massive, dry tomes. Find him in the library and you’ll be startled by the contrast: a vibrant look that includes dyed green hair and a bright yellow shirt paired with the most studious of attitudes. Researching something he loves is the only time when Bart keeps still. 

Peter - A stocky, boisterous boy, Peter longs for nothing more than to be the hero of his own story. Even if he really doesn’t look the part. Or seemingly have any heroic skills. And sometimes freezes when things get messy. None of that matters because he’s going to succeed one day, dammit. Fake it till you make it! Practically attached at the hip to Bart, the two make an unlikely---but as others quickly learn---unstoppable pair. Contrasting James’ skepticism, when Ozpin first told them about seeing an evil looking Salem in his house, Peter immediately pulled an ax out from under his bed and demanded to know where he was needed. Oh, the ax? He just had it for... reasons. 

Tai - Kind-hearted almost to a fault, Tai took Raven’s bedroom when she left in order to escape his own parents. He’ll take indifference over his previous living arrangement any day. Though more than once Qrow has tried to talk to him about the broken school supplies and badly hidden bruises, Tai never offers anything except a smile. It’s the same for all of them, all the time, and whenever his back is turned the Losers share glances among each other, wondering when he’ll finally break. Not if, but when. Not that it matters because they all intend to be there when it happens, determined to show Tai that he’s allowed to be something other than that constantly cheerful, helpful version of himself. 

Glynda - The one girl of the group and no, she’s never going to let you forget it. Also the real leader if we’re getting right down to it. Glynda had no intention of making friends with six other boys, especially when she already has an entirely undeserved reputation as the town slut. Why not embrace it then? The Losers lose their collective shit the day she walks up in a new purple skirt, black boots, and white top, all of them stolen from the store where the manager dared touch her. The persona isn’t at all what she’d intended---like Ozpin and James, Glynda is somewhat introverted---but then she had no intention of fighting whatever was hiding in those sewers either. Something dark and otherworldly, capable of transforming into a massive bird, a boar, sometimes a vaguely human-like shape...  Glynda hates that version most of all. 

Fun plot points after the time jump include: 

Qrow losing his goddamn mind as he remembers that he’s been in love with Ozpin for over thirty fucking years and what pRECISELY is he supposed to do with that information NOW? 

Ozpin is also panicking, he’s just quiet about it 

The awful realization that this Grimm thing beneath the town feeds on/grows stronger through negative emotions so lol that’s a bit not good when the seven of us are all such a mess 

Oh hi Tai great to see you again quick question WHY DID YOU BRING YOUR TWO YOUNG DAUGHTERS TO THE MURDER TOWN? 

Hey Tai second question what do you mean you went and had a kid with my long-lost sister 

Whole side plot involving Ruby and Yang meeting Weiss and Blake who grew up here. Cue culture clash and the kids helping the adults out on their messed up adventure 

Blake: “You won’t believe me if I tell you... no one does... it’s just too horrible...” Yang: “Oh you mean the supernatural entity that wants to devour you and frequently finds its way across the town via the sewers? Yeah. Dad filled us in on the drive up.” 

James takes all of .5 seconds to start bickering with Oz again, mostly on how to handle the situation. The Losers know they’re really back together once the shouting starts

Bart greets Glynda with an enthusiastic “I finally got diagnosed and you would not believe---I need you to sit, honey, this is gonna take a while” speech and she’s so happy to do it

Peter still has his ax. It comes in handy 

[xopheliasunflowerx]

Hiya! Can I please request an imagine where Oswald Cobblepot falls in love with a nerdy, sweet, innocent, short (I’m 4ft 10 1/2in btw LOL) Kindergarten teacher (I’m also a kindergarten teacher😂) that happens to be Jim’s little sister + Oswald smirking (and blushing) when she tells her brother that she’s in love with Oswald and won’t leave him just because Jim doesn’t approve + Oswald being soft for the reader.💜

I’m in love with your sister, Jim. (Oswald Cobblepot) {Requested}

Request By: @kpopgirlbtssvt

Pairing: Oswald Cobblepot x Gordon Reader

Fandom: Gotham

~*~*~

The station was crawling with crazy lunatics and criminals. Screaming and laughing echoes around the station with prisoners jumping out of their cells and grasping what/whoever is near or what they could reach.

A man who was built with strong arms carries another man who was yelling and struggling to escape from the man’s grasp. The first man then pushes him into a cell as the other man jumps immediately as his fingers grips around the cold metal bars.

“I want my lawyer! I demand to call my lawyer!” He screams causing the other to roll his eyes as his arms were folded across his chest.

“Your lawyer won’t do anything for murder Mr. Collins.” He said sternly as he turns around to face you, a bright smile across your lips as you watch your older brother, who was surprise to see you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked as you shrugged with a small smile as you looked up at him.

“Oh what up baby Gordon!” You hear Harvey walking up with a chuckle as Jim rolls his eyes as you chuckle at the nickname. You didn’t really like it at first but it was a nickname that Harvey had given you, and you would only allow him to call you that.

“Not much old man. Just here to collect my book from Jimmy.” You say as Jim nods as his fingers click and pointing at you.

“Yes, that book. I’ve got it in my office, I’ll go get that.” Jim says as he leaves to grab your book as Harvey waves goodbye to you as he walks away with a case file in his hands.

You take a seat as you wait for Jim to come back with your book, your fingers tap against your thigh out of boredom. You pull a strain of hair behind your ear as you bite inside your cheek.

“Wow, my my. Aren’t you very gorgeous. In trouble are we?” You turn around to face a man with hair that’s all spiked up and on the side. A suit with colours of violet and black a colour combo that goes very well.

You easily recognise the man standing in front of you as you show a small blush on your cheeks. He shows a cocky grin on his lips as he giggles watching your reaction.

“What’s the matter my dear, a certain man caught your attention?” He chuckles making you roll your eyes as he takes a seat next to you grasping your hand.

“Oswald! We can’t here!” You whisper as you pull your hand away from his own as you rest it on your lap. Oswald shows a slight blush as he turns to face you with a confident smile, standing up in the process.

“Oh my dear little melody (it’s a nickname he’ll explain why later), can’t we be together, you can’t deny your love for me and either can I.” Oswald expresses as you bite your lip as your gaze turns away. “I wish to see more of you, please Y/N.” Oswald begs as you turn to face him with a small smile on your lips as you watch his icy blue orbs into your E/C.

“Meet me after school.” You whisper making Oswald showna slight blush with a small smile. Oswald pulls away as he adjust his coat, he shows a smile as he waddles off away from you.

“Oh gosh what do I do?” You whisper to yourself as you bite your lip as you pull a strain of hair behind your ear.

You and Oswald have been in a secret relationship for three months, and it was the best thing to happen to you, besides teaching the little kiddos. But you know Oswald is getting fed up of hiding your relationship from your brother Jim Gordon, who happens to have a bad relationship with Oswald.

You couldn’t imagine the look of disappointment in Jim’s eyes when you confront him about dating his enemy. Then he’ll go on about your safety and how much danger you’re in (which completely annoyed you), but you can handle yourself.

“Here’s your book, Y/N.” You draw out of your thoughts as you turn to face your brother. In his fingers are a book, you look at the book as you look back at him sort of confused. “You alright?” He asked as you nod as you grab the book out of his hands with a smile.

“Yes, I am. Uh, I must be going now.” You admit as you wave your brother off with an awkward smile as you walk away leaving Jim standing there confused and suspicious.

“You alright, Jim?” Harvey asked as Jim turns to face him with a concern look.

“I think my sister is hiding something, she acted nervous.” Jim said as Harvey nods as he gives Jim a look.

“Everyone acts nervous, especially when their brother is a cop that can see right through them.” Harvey smirks as he taps his shoulder. But Jim still wasn’t convinced.

Jim grabs his coat as he begins to walk away making Harvey stutter and yell out his name, with a curse under his breath as he quickly grabs his hat and coat and rushes after Jim.

~*~*~

The school day ended for all of the kids. Different colours of bags and hair leaves the school chatting and laughing, it made you smile seeing that. Some of the parents would thank you and your brother for protecting the city, which made you cringe but you accepted their thanks. Once they left you saw the man you were eager to see.

You see two men coming to collect you as they smile and walk you towards the car. One of them opened the door as you get in, they pushed the door closed and jumped in the driver and passenger seat. The black limousine car begins to drive away.

But not to far was Jim and Harvey observering what had just happened. Jim’s skin immediately turns pale as sweat pours down his face, a look of fear mixed of anger. Harvey turns to face him, same state as he was.

“Dude, that was Penguin’s men. Why does he want your sister?” Harvey Asked making Jim shake his head, he was just as confused as him. Not knowing any answers or any idea Jim sternly starts up the car and begins to follow Penguin’s limousine.

~*~*~

You arrive at a small fancy house. It was beautiful and old, black and white laces front of the house with a luxurious layout of texture. Dark emerald green vines lace around the stones and fence. It was a pretty little home, it was a safe house for you and Oswald in case things get dangerous.

The men open the door for you as you gracefully enter out of the car, a smile across your lips. You walk up to the stairs as you walk inside the house. The room and house inside was beautiful itself, it made you feel like royalty. You smile at the warm feeling buzzing in your chest.

“Oh my sweet melody, you look rather gorgeous in the sun light. It shines your skin making it glow rather stunningly.” You hear Oswald complement you making you giggle with a slight blush across your cheeks. He limps towards you as he grasp your hand, fingers linking together as you bite your lip containing your smile.

“I don’t understand why I have that nickname.” You asked making him simply smile, lovingly.

“Well, your voice is simply a melody to my ears. Such a beautiful sound like angels singing at heaven above. And you my melody are an angel.” Oswald says making you blush super red.

He’s body moves close towards yours, feeling his warmth. His lips only a few centimetres apart, with one move his lips could be on yours. You stare in his icy eyes, watching the beautiful colour making you hypnotised in his glance. His hand in your own as his other around your waist.

“Oswald you son of a bitch where is... what the hell?” You and Oswald snap towards your brother, your heart began to pound loudly with fear as your hands began to tremble horribly. Jim’s eyes widen as his hand drops to his side as he stands tall.

You quickly move away from Oswald. “Jim! Please, hear me out!”

“Y/N step away from him, he’s a criminal and a murder.” Jim says slowly with a stern type of voice. He raises his hand again with the gun aimed at Oswald, you don’t move you stand where you are. “Y/N, move.”

“No, Jim! I am-“

“Jim, I am in love with your sister.” Oswald confesses making you and Jim face him. Your eyes widen as you smile sweetly at him. Jim had a different look on his face, the complete opposite.

“This is ridiculous, he’s a criminal and a murder Y/N.” Jim says sternly with a angry look. But you stand your ground, you take a second to come up with a response but Oswald answers for you.

“Jim, people are out to kill me. And-“

“People are out to kill other people, you don’t kill them before they kill you. Y/N please think about this.” Jim begs you with a look of hope in his eyes. You bite your lip with a sad look.

“Jim, I can’t. I love him. It’s a relationship that I love. It’s like with you and Barbara, and Lee you still love Lee yet after what she became you’re willing to still love her for who she is. Why can’t I?” You ask making Jim frown with a distraught look.

“Jim, I can keep her safe you know that right.” Oswald mumbles making Jim look convinced but not there fully.

“I can’t convince you to change your mind, but I swear Oswald if you hurt her I will come after you.” Jim threats making Oswald nod with a scared look on his face.

Then Harvey walks in huffing as he sees the situation. “What did I miss?”

Masterlist

[the-jade-cross]

The Lion, the Witch, and the Elph - Chapter 13

Peter cried out in shock and slight pain when Miraz’s sword slammed the side of his helmet, knocking it clean off. The boy’s hair was drenched with sweat, his face glistening and his mouth wide open whilst trying to catch his breath.

Rhea jumped slightly, having not been paying attention to anyone but Peter, only to have someone grab her arm. Looking down slightly, the girl found Pheira gripping her mother’s hand desperately, the girl’s blue eyes glued on the dual but wide in concern. Rhea smiled at the girl’s concern and gripped her hand back. Looking back at Rehtir who stood aloft with the archers, Rhea saw her son desperately point at Peter and when she looked back, she winced.

Peter had ended up on the ground, Miraz’s foot on his shield and bending his arm in the wrong way, earning painful groans from Peter. The blond quickly rolled out of reach and swung his legs up, tripping Miraz.

As the two scrambled to their feet, Rhea spied a large black horse galloping toward them…. Was that Caspian and Susan on the horse? The elph felt Pheira drop her hand and turning to look at her daughter, Pheira had forced a deadpan expression on her face and wa standing stoically next to Edmund.

Rhea could help but smirk. Jealous much? Though what she knew about Susan that Pheira didn’t was that Susan was not one to hang onto Narnia and the things within Narnia like her siblings did. That was just how Susan was.

The girl snapped out of her thoughts when Peter began to walk back toward them, having called a respite with Miraz for a few moments. Rhea and Edmund rushed over to help Peter sit down, the boy groaning before looking at Susan and Caspian in fear.

“Lucy?” he asked desperately.

“She got through,” Susan replied. “With a little help.” Peter turned to Caspian, “Thanks.” “Well you were busy,” the prince replied before his eyes fell on Pheira who turned away from him, giving him the cold shoulder.

“Sit down and rest,” she calmly told her father.

The boy obeyed and Caspian began to remove his shield. the blond cried out in pain at the movement and Caspian looked at Edmund who stood with Pheira. “it’s bad.” “We can kind of see that,” Pheira pointed out begrudgedly as Edmund rushed over to check his brother’s arm. “Considering that we saw it happen while you were galloping around.”

Caspian frowned at the girl, “What has got your knickers in a knot?”

“You’re just stating the obvious when you have been gone the whole of the dual to rescue your little lady love.” “The dual is not over I might remind you,” Caspian shot back, “And what is this about a lady love?”

Pheira crossed her arms, glaring at Caspian as they stood on either side of Peter arguing over his head.

“So you’re a smarty breaches now? You really are a pain in the…”

Luckily the girl was cut off mid-sentence by Peter who snapped in annoyance at the two.

“If you lot are don’t complaining about who is right in the situation where I happen to be the one hurt, then perhaps we can get on with the dual civilly?”

Pheira and Caspian glared at each other before giving in and walking away from the other. Edmund stared in surprise before leaning over to Rhea to whisper.

“That’s a side of Peter I have never seen.” Rhea smirked, “It’s the daddy side.” After getting Peter distracted with talk, Edmund snapped his joint back into socket. The blond slowly climbed to his feet but wobbled slightly. Rhea rushed forward to catch him and Peter groaned.

“If you had to live the rest of your life as my fiance, what would you do?” he asked Rhea.

The girl shrugged, “I would kill you.” “What if I was already dead?” Peter asked back.

Rhea smiled, “Then I would be dead too for no king or Queen of old shall fall while I still live.” Peter smiled lovingly down at the petite elph before planting a warm kiss on her forehead.

“Thanks for the motivation.” With that, he stalked back into the ring.

*******

Rhea was on edge. The tension had risen as the dual became more violent. Peter had a cut on his forehead and Miraz was beating the pulp out of him. Pheira did not want to show her concern but she was fidgeting, a sure sign of worry.

Susan had retreated to stand with the archers, giving Rehtir leave to come stand below with Pheira. The boy had exchanged knowing looks with Edmund and had both taken up posts between Pheira and Caspian so in case the two were going to pounce, they would have to get through the two boys.

Rehtir leant over to Rhea when Peter brought Miraz to his knees and stood over him with his sword poised at him.

“What if the Telmarines don’t play fair?”

Rhea turned to watch Caspian take the sword from Peter and face Miraz while Peter stumbled back toward the others.

“Then you know what to do,” Rhea whispered back, nodding toward Edmund.

Rehtir nodded while Rhea hurried over to support Peter with an arm wrapped around his abdomen.

“Do you think he’ll kill him?” the elph whispered, nodding at Caspian and Miraz.

Peter shook his head and almost on cue, Caspian drove the sword into the ground, muttering something to Miraz. Lord Sopaspian rushed to his king’s side and Rhea turned to look at the twins.

“Got it,” Pheira whispered when she saw her mother’s look, “Protect the kings and queens.” Peter, Edmund and Caspian looked at the three elphs in puzzlement until they heard Sopaspian yell.

“Treachery! They shot him! They murdered our king!” As the man rushed away, the kids saw a red arrow protruding from Miraz’s side.

“Peter!” Caspian yelled, pointing at a Telmarine who was approaching, sword raised.

Peter went to meet him when the man was knocked back before a large white beast threw him against a pillar. Rehtir turned to Pheira, still in panther form.

“Go with Caspian…. No buts!” he said, noticing his sister’s annoyed look.

Rehtir rushed to Edmund’s side and the boy climbed up onto the morphed boy/panther. Rhea sprouted her wings, turning to plant herself beside Peter protectively.

“So it begins.”

********

Rhea grunted as she blasted a couple of Telmarines back with a strong flap of her wings.

“How long are we going to keep this up!?” she called to Peter who had just kicked another guy down.

“We’re at a disadvantage. They have catapults.” The boy replied.

Rhea looked over at the line of Telmarine catapults before huffing. Grabbing her axe, she turned to where Pheira was.

“Phei!” She called, catching her daughter’s attention immediately since she never used Pheira’s nickname unless it was urgent. Sort of like a code between them.

Rhea tossed the axe to Pheira who caught it easily, using it to take down a soldier. This exchange did not go unnoticed by Peter.

“What are you doing!?” he called, sensing she was up to something.

Rhea cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders, “If you push them to the river, the river spirit will take care of them. I am giving you an open field.” With that, the girl dropped to her knees and drove her fists into the earth… almost with ease. Just then, Peter sensed movement around him and looked around in shock when he saw that trees had begun to move around, crushing Telmarines left and right.

“Lucy,” Peter muttered to the nearest person who happened to be Caspian. However, his mind returned to his significant other and when he looked at Rhea, the earth in front of her had risen into a small pillar.

Bringing one leg around in a kick motion, she struck the pillar clear through! A wide, thick chunk of the pillar came off and went flying straight across the field and into a catapult, causing it to crumble.

She continued to pound boulders at the catapults till none remained except the furthest one away. Standing up tall, she swung her arms forward like she was pushing someone and a gust of wind erupted from her and blasted the enemy in the face. The Telmarines cried out in fear and began to retreat back toward the river.

However, one sound rang over the cheers from the Narnians…. A cry that erupted from Rehtir as the boy pounded over to his mother just as she crumbled to the ground. Peter was there In an instant and Rehtir morphed back to human, holding his mother’s upper body in his lap and off the ground.

“What happened to her?” Peter asked desperately as he watched his son check Rhea for a pulse.

“She’s weak,” the boy replied. “Too much use of her powers in a short span drains her energy. “Too much use of her powers in a short span drains her energy.” Peter was just about to speak when Rehtir’s eyes widened in fear and when Peter turned, hed saw a boulder flying at him.

Just when the two thought it would strike them, a shadow fell over them and the boulder never struck. Looking up, the two found a dust cloud where the rock had been blow to bits and standing in the center of the cloud was Pheira, one hand extended. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled.

“Lead the Narnians. We’ll stay with mum.”

Peter got up and placed his hand on the girl’s shoulder, “Thank you.” The girl smiled, “Go get em… dad.”

*****

When Rhea’s eyes cracked open, she found herself staring up at the blue skies… only to have the view blocked by two heads which she recognized as Pheira and Edmund.

“She’s awake!” Edmund cried, beaming happily.

“Give her space!” Susan ordered from nearby. “Lucy’s cordial works slow on her. Let her breathe!”

The two kids drew back but barely, allowing Rhea to see who was all present. Rehtir and Lucy hung close by but were giving her space unlike Edmund and Pheira. Caspian and Susan stood further away but Rhea frowned.

“Where’s peter?”

The girl almost jumped from her skin when a hand gently stroked her hair and that was when the elph realized how soft the earth felt beneath her head. Tilting her head, she found that she was lying with her head in Peter’s lap! He had peeled off his layers of armor so he was in chainmail and leather.

“Right here love,” the boy said smirking.

Rhea relaxed, relieved until she froze. She had heard a faint chuckle and shot to a sitting position, almost head butting Edmund.

“I know that voice!” Turning to look, Rhea saw the giant lion standing beside Caspian and the elph beamed. Jumping up, she rushed over to wrap her arms around Aslan’s neck.

“Master! I missed you so!”

The lion chuckled and smiled at the girl, “You have done well dear child.”

Rhea felt tears spring to her eyes when Rehtir walked over to hug her. the girl hugged her son back tightly before opening her other arm to Pheira who surprisingly rushed over to join the group hug.

After that, Rhea hugged Susan, Edmund, Lucy and Caspian before approaching Peter. The boy hugged her gently before pulling away to hold her at arms length.

“Just propose Pete,” Edmund whispered.

Peter flushed pink while Rhea almost laughed. “I kinda did already….earlier.”

“Then kiss her!” Pheira cried, causing everyone to look at the usually deadpan, sarcastic girl in shock.

“What?” she asked, shrugging, “Isnt a girl allowed to fangirl over a cute love story!? even if it is about her parents….” Peter chuckled before obliging and crashing his lips to Rhea’s cradling her face in his hands and trying desperately to not overdo it and keep it chaste…. After all, there were children present!

Edmund and Caspian whooped while Lucy and Susan awed. Pheira blushed profusely, obviously not thinking her father would do it in public even though she suggested it. Rehtir and Aslan began to chuckle and soon everyone joined in, leaving Peter beaming when he drew back and Rhea blushing like an apple. However, through the crowd, Rhea caught Aslan’s eye and the lion gave her a look that only Rhea could translate, and she felt her heart drop…. Before an idea came to her head and she smiled.

When she looked back up at Peter, the boy was looking over at Caspian who was watching Pheira from afar, an unreadable expression on his face.

**************

“It’s so beautiful,” Lucy whispered to Susan.

They were presently at the banquet that was being held in honor of regaining Narnia as well as Caspian’s coronation.

Both girls were brushed and bathed till they were pink, their hair curled and pinned up in lovely, regal hair does.

Lucy was wearing a lovely pale-yellow dress that brought out the auburn in her hair and the blue in her eyes. Susan had managed to convince her to wear heels, saying that the outfits they would wear the next day required flats.

Susan wore a deep emerald green dress with identical shoes to Lucy but a green color that matched her dress. Susan looked absolutely stunning and had caught the attention of quite a few young Telmarine men present who had sworn loyalty to Caspian after the battle.

Said young newly crowned king stood a ways off from the girls, speaking with Peter and Edmund. Edmund looked very smart in a rich blue doublet that really accented his dark hair. Caspian wore gold and white obviously to bring out the color of his crown.

Peter’s blue eyes and blond hair were accented by the white doublet he wore, lined with pale blue and silver. All four of the Pevensies wore crowns but not as glamorous as Caspian’s.

Susan and peter wore silver circlets while Lucy and Edmund wore golden. Edmund had at first pointed out that gold was the color of the High king and queen but Peter pointed out that they were just kings and queens now, for Caspian was high king. Susan of course argued that the gold matched Lucy and Edmund’s outfits better while the silver matched her and Peter’s.

“you look like death,” Edmund pointed out to Caspian, “And on the day of your coronation no less.” “The crowning itself was nerve wracking,” the boy observed. “You four had it lucky. There were three other people besides yourself that everyone could be looking at… I was alone!”

“Why do I get the feeling that this is not the only problem?” Peter muttered as he took a sip of wine.

“It is tradition that the king asks a woman to dance….” Edmund shrugged, “Just ask Susan or Lucy or Rhea.”

The two boys looked at the brunet as if he had just grown six heads. Edmund looked at them puzzled.

“What?”

“Wed, when we were crowned, did you notice anything about my dancing partners?” Peter asked.

“You mean PARTNER. You only danced with Rhea!” Edmund pointed out.

Peter nodded, “Because Narnian tradition is that if a king is 16 years or older, he must dance with bachelor girls if he is unwed and has no one in his heart, or if he does have his eyes on someone…” “he dances with said person.” Caspian finished. “Lucky for you, it didn’t matter who you dance with cause you weren’t of age. I am though.”

“Oh,” Edmund whispered, catching on. “That’s a problem…. Cause Lucy is too young and Rhea is taken. Besides, you would have the shortest reign in history if you danced with Rhea… why not Susan then?”

Caspian sighed, “Because I do have my eyes on someone.” Edmund was about to ask for details when one of the side doors of the hall opened and in strode Aslan. Everyone present turned to him respectfully and bowed their heads once as the traditional greeting. That was when Edmund heard both Peter and Caspian suck n their breath in a gasp.

Flanking Aslan’s side and walking next to him in her rightful place was Rhea. Dressed in a long floor length ruby red dress brought out the white of her hair and the amber in her green eyes. She wore high silver heels and her hair was wavy, pinned away from her eyes but mostly down. Nestled amongst her hair were little teardrops of ruby red gems that matched her dress. Around her head was a delicate crown like headpiece and hanging from each of her slightly pointy ears were ruby red earrings. Two locks of hair hung loose on either side of her face, bringing to attention the smoothness of her skin, the pale freckles upon her nose and her elphen pointed features. Looking at her, Edmund couldn’t help but think she looked like a fairy queen from one of Lucy’s novels. She was beautiful.

The girl’s eyes fell on the four Pevensies and Caspian and she smiled knowingly before turning her head slightly as if to point the direction of where they should look. Then Edmund understood Caspian’s ‘deer in headlights’ look. Standing slightly behind Rhea, one on either side of her stood Pheira and Rehtir. Rehtir looked very smart in his black tunic, black pants and dark maroon coat that fell to his knees, making him look like a detective to Edmund but to all the Narnians…. An elph prince.

His hair was brushed spiky and with his blue eyes shining, he looked much more confident and mature than the sweet and gentle little boy they had met before.

Pheira was like her mother: a picture of gentle but strong beauty. Dressed in a deep maroon floor length gownthat was of the same shade as Rehtir’s but a few shades darker than Rhea’s. just like her mother, Pheira wore earrings and hair jewelry but hers was golden, bringing out the gold in her hair.

Edmund nudged Caspian who walked forward, his eyes fixated on the blond part-elph. Seeing him approach, Rhea took Rehtir’s hand and made herself scarce while Caspian approached Pheira, holding out a hand to the girl.

“Will you dance with me?” he whispered.

Pheira bit her lip, fighting the urge to smile but ended up blushing. “What happened to being angry at each other?”

Caspian smiled, “as long as you do not think I am a pain…”

Pheira grabbed his hand before he could finish, smiling, “I would love to dance.” Beaming, Caspian led Pheira onto the dance floor before drawing her close to him.

“And don’t worry,” he whispered in her ear, “I asked your father’s permission.” Pheira raised an eyebrow, “To dance with me?” “That,” Caspian replied. “And this.” Before Pheira could speak, Caspian had bent down to her petite level and pressed a kiss to her plump lips. The girl’s eyes widened when he pulled away and her cheeks were bright crimson.

“So that was what you two were whispering about earlier,” Susan whispered to Peter.

“I’m confused,” Lucy observed. “I mean…. If Caspian and Pheira marry, she will be queen but what of Rehtir? You and Rhea are still planning on marrying right?”

Peter nodded, “I asked Rehtir the same thing…. About if he would claim his right to the throne.”

“The answer is still no,” a voice said from behind them and the kids spun around to see Rhea and Rehtir standing there.

“I have no interest in the throne,” Rehtir added. “Pheira and Caspian will have it under control. Besides, since mother graduated from being Aslan’s apprentice, he asked me to take her place! He already knows where he is going to send me!”

“Where?” everyone present asked (minus Peter for he was too busy staring at Rhea).

“Some place called Romandu’s island.”

[juniper-rose-blower]

Review of the Botanist

Tagged by: @killerkyara

Name: Juniper Rose Blower

Nickname: June, ‘Asset Lark’, Miss Rose

Age: 20

Height: 5’6”

Weight: 120-something lbs

Blood Type: A+

Eye color: Pale grey-green

Hair color: Platinum blonde

Date of Birth: March 17th

Zodiac sign: Pisces

Shoe size: Ladies’ eight

Favorite Color(s): Earthy and muted tones

Favorite smell(s): Roses after the rain, the ocean, apples, fresh-baked pastries

Birth Gem: Aquamarine

Race: Afflicted Gilnean

Talent(s): Skilled Botanist and healer, moderately skilled alchemist and freerunner, novice shapeshifter

A wish they have always wanted: To finish her botany compendium of every herb on Azeroth

An item they hold dear to their heart: Justine’s rifle - the stock was restored by hand by June; she carries it with her now

Favorite sound(s): The pattering that rain makes on the beach

Fear(s): Failing her comrades in Blackbay, losing control of her Afflicted side, heights (mild), scorpions and other stinging pests

Accomplishment(s): Mastering the ability to shapeshift into her equestrian travel form (personal); ranking Corporal in Blackbay (professional)

Your muse’s catchphrase(s): “...” (silence more than anything - usually when she’s either working or frustrated that her comrades are giving her more work to do, specifically getting injured more; also denoted when something makes June blush)

Likes: Running, swimming, drawing herbs in her journal, drinking, smoking with Kyara

Dislikes: Crowds, 95% of personal questions, the arrogance of people older than her trying to impose their wisdom on her, snobby nobles, being stuck in her emotions while someone tries to ‘fix’ it by offering advice instead of comfort

Any scars?: One ugly stab wound scar on her left side between two lower ribs, old scars on her legs and knees from climbing trees in her childhood, one faded bite/slash mark on the back of her right shoulder from the night she was Afflicted

Birthmarks?: Small café au lait spot at the corner of her right earlobe and jaw, small mole a quarter of an inch from the outside corner of her left eye

Something about your muse that is different from everyone else: When training with the druids in Darnassus, she sought the blessing of Malorne’s brother Equus, the demigod and spirit of horses, because she felt an unexplainable connection to him; this is why her travel form is equine as opposed to cervine

What makes your muse cry?: Things that remind her of the night Justine died

What makes your muse happy?: Peace and quiet with nothing to worry about in the moment

What makes your muse laugh?: Kyara

Does your muse love his/her parents? Why or why not?: June’s relationship with her parents (who are both gone) is complicated. Her mother raised her on her own, harshly and with little good things to say to encourage June as a child. Her father was never in the picture. Does she love them? I would say no, but it’s not a stark, black-and-white ‘no’. It’s far more grey and muddled than that.

Does you muse have any friends? Which friend is closest to him/her?: June’s first real friend (and crush) was Liam Greymane; she still dreams about him sometimes. Before the Fall of the Wall, the Apothecary in Gilneas City helped ignite the spark of curiosity for her fascination with botany. When she began training with the druids in Darnassus, her teacher Mardant Strongoak worked closely with her to hone her natural abilities and build her self-esteem. With joining Blackbay, she’s made some close connections with her comrades; Justine was her first real experience with love, as well as a mentor; Brian is an enigma and a role model, Quai is a source of wisdom and reassurance, Kyara is a safe place of comfort; Gwen is a fellow herbalist and enthusiast, Andrew is a wonderful source of comedy, Bella is a proprietor of excellent illicit substances for enjoyment, and Trin is in a category all her own.

In regards to which of these June is closest to, it is likely Kyara. The woman has saved her life more than once, and vice versa; they’ve confided in one another when something bothered them; they’ve sought emotional and physical comfort from one another amidst the strife. With everything that’s happened, they both have agreed that anything that happens is for relief and comfort, with no strings or labels to weigh them down, and it suits them quite well. June would be in a far more self-destructive place in her life without Kyara there to distract her, perhaps to the point that she would no longer be alive. For that, June is immeasurably indebted to her.

Your muse’s favorite food?: Baked pastries; growing up, meat pies were her favorite main course; with joining Blackbay, pies and pastries of every sort have become an intense love.

Does your muse follow a religion? If so, what is it and what are their beliefs?: June is not particularly religious, no. She’s been to the Shadowlands, she’s seen the power of Elune, and she has sought the blessings of Wild Gods in her prior training. She’s been to the Emerald Dream and seen the horrors of the Nightmare. In June’s mind, there are a great number of powers in the world, but to bow to one or another as superior would be silly.

What would get your muse to fall in love with someone?: This one I won’t answer, as it’s honestly far too complicated to put into proper words. June is not a one-dimensional princess who would just drop her innately introverted nature because someone does or says a single thing. She’s not the type to get along with someone without effort. She’s a human being, and requires a relationship to evolve of its own accord to even remotely come close to such a thing as love. I suppose, in a way, this does answer the question, though probably not to the OP’s expectation when they created this prompt.

Has your muse ever killed/murdered somebody? Why did they do it and what was their motive?: June works for a covert group that we have lovingly dubbed as ‘Murder Hobos’. Killing people goes without saying. But real talk - June has killed numerous people, for numerous reasons. The one that stands out to me the most was a large woman by the name of Greta. Upon being captured by Blackbay, the woman taunted June about not belonging where she was. The words struck a nerve, and June brutally punched the woman to death.

Does your muse have a type when it comes to physical attraction?: June likes both women and men, so the spectrum for what attracts her physically is kinda broad. I imagine if June met someone she didn’t find attractive, they’d know fairly quickly.

What does your muse find endearing personality-wise?: Confidence. Confidence more than anything is something that June aspires to have, so when she sees others who exude it, she’s drawn to them naturally.

What is the stupidest/most illogical thing your muse has done and why did they do it?: June is a 20-year-old Botanist with a curiosity that could easily get her killed. The list of stupid things she’s done is far too long to pick one.

Tag ten people!: @brian-wellson @quai-mason @isablackwave @adhelin @cedrickholtstories @venreenaholt @rian-kestavin @christinabenison @shewolf-jacqueline @thaylynnkestavin  and anyone who hasn’t done it already (again, I know I’m behind the times on posting stuff)