#meaning that there’s so much stuff to figure out

[muchosbesitos]

DOUBLE OR NOTHING— featuring toji fushiguro x wife! reader

after countless empty promises spilled from his lips, you wanted to believe that he’d show up to your anniversary of all things.

contents: 18+ content, minors dni. marriage problems, talks of divorce, (some) angst, smut, porn w minimal plot, cunnilingus w fingering, toji being a panty sniffer briefly mentioned, unprotected p in v, spanking (twice), backshots, missionary against a wall, toji kinda being an ass (what did you expect), pet names (ma, doll, etc.)

word count: 5k

author’s note: back from the dead sry

"I'll make it home to you by six, mama. Take you out on a nice date, get you some flowers, all that stuff you like. Promise."

The clock was nearing eight o'clock with no signs of Toji coming through the door anytime soon, your own patience starting to run out with every tick. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. The sound echoed through your ears since you'd sat down on the leather couch nearly two hours ago, waiting for Toji to fulfill the promise. A promise that he'd made after flaking out on the date planned prior to that one.

And prior to that one. And prior. It'd been more missed dates than actual ones that he'd taken you out by now—you weren't exactly sure why you'd hoped for tonight to be different. Well, you knew exactly why. Today marked three years of being married to one another. You knew that he didn't prioritize date nights with you as much as he should, but you had held some sort of foolish hope that your anniversary would mean something—anything to him.

The divorce papers felt like a dead weight in your hand, much like how your relationship would be the second that you brought it up. It all just seemed so final, seeing the terms laid out that would end years of marriage. Just by the flick of a pen. But the idea was almost like a reprieve, like something that was worth looking forward to. You shook your head, getting up from the couch to set the stack of papers on the kitchen table where Toji wouldn't miss them.

Another half hour of eerie silence and Toji still hadn't come through the door. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep some semblance of hope that he'd even show up at all, much less for your date. You admitted defeat, slipping off your heels and pulling up a throw blanket over yourself. Succumbing to the sleep that was weighing down on your eyelids.

You weren't even sure how much time had passed when you heard the door swing open, the door hitting the wall from the force. The thud of his shoes hitting the tile followed, a grumble leaving Toji's lips. "Fuckin' bastards rigged that race. Robbed me of fifty bucks," he muttered to himself, slipping his coat off before placing it up on the coat rack.

"You're home late," you called out, watching as Toji turned to look at the couch before flicking on one of the living room lights. "Jesus woman, you scared me," he grumbled, a large hand resting by his chest as he looked over in your direction. Toji rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion lingering on his face like a second skin. It was only then that he looked over at you, really looked at you, and what you were wearing.

Ah shit.

Almost as if he wanted to make the situation worse, he'd chosen to go with, "You got all dolled up just to fall asleep on the couch?" You could've sworn you felt your eye twitch at the question. He'd barely opened up his mouth and you were already wishing that he didn't even bother showing up for the night.

Toji knew he was in deep shit with each step he took into the living room, his mind already starting to work overdrive to figure out what he could do for what he'd missed. A date? No, you wouldn't have put on the very expensive pair of Louboutins for just any date. His mind was blanking on anything other than the numbers that he'd lost with earlier in the day. Come on, think.

"No, I got dolled up because I thought I'd be going out with my husband tonight," you retorted dryly, smudges of eyeshadow sticking to your hand when you went to rub at your eyes. You could see Toji's brows furrow, the wheels seeming to turn in his head for once, before a look of realization settled on his features.

"Look, I'm sorry. I got carried away at the casino," one of the many excuses you'd heard before coming back to bite you in the ass. The same excuse that he'd used last month when he forgot about a work party you'd mentioned to him. Which wouldn't have been too bad if it weren't for all the snide comments being whispered in your direction and all the unwarranted marriage advice.

Advice that you ended up forgetting about chugging down two glasses of tequila like water. "I'll make it up to you, I swear. You can pick the place and all that shit." There went another one. He'd really topped himself using the two of them in a row. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, looking over at him in disbelief. "Do you even know what today was? Why I'm so pissed off?"

"It's your birthday?" Toji spoke after a couple seconds, the answer clearly wrong just by the look on his face. You rubbed a hand over your face, standing up from your spot on the couch. "It's our wedding anniversary, Toji," you spoke up before he made another guess that would just piss you off even further, "And I have something I need to talk to you about. It's on the kitchen table."

Underneath the vase filled with wilted flowers—a collection more than anything that you kept around as a reminder that Toji used to care, was a stack of papers. He placed the vase down on the table with more force than necessary upon realizing what the documents were. "A divorce?" The words slipped out of him with such venom, such distaste, like the idea was unfathomable.

Toji slammed the papers down on the table, the salt and pepper shakers trembling before falling over. "Is that really what you want?" He stepped closer to you when you approached the table, his hands instinctively moving to hold your hips. Holding you close to his body. "No, I didn't get married with the intention of getting a divorce. But you've been neglecting this marriage for a couple months now."

"I'll make it up to you now," Toji spoke quickly, like he was afraid of losing you at any moment. Like you'd disappear if he didn't. And as much as you wanted to avoid looking over at him, the task had just become all that much difficult when you had nowhere else to look at. It only took one glance at his face to realize just what he meant by 'making it up to you.'

"You think you're gonna fix months of pushing me aside with just sex?"

"Nah, I know it's gonna take more. But you've been so tired, isn't that right? So tired of tryin' to keep this marriage from falling apart and nobody taking care of you?" His words were like a siren's song when he whispered them in your ear, your traitorous body leaning back to meet the drag of your fingertips. It was almost laughable at how easily your resolve had melted. "Lemme take care of you mama. Promise I'll make you feel good."

"You wanna call me a dick, never wanna see me again? That's fine, just don't deny me one last taste. Please," And while Toji wasn't a man to beg for anything in his life, he found himself saying the words anyways. "Thought this was you making it up to me," and as much as you were willing yourself not to fold, you felt yourself spreading your legs almost instinctively when his finger dragged up your inner thigh.

"Can't it be both?" Toji's teeth nipped at your neck, licking a stripe up the junction of your neck. Practically salivating at the taste of you, of the expensive perfume you'd put on just a mere hours beforehand. "One could say that you're just being selfish," your words quickly died out when Toji started sucking on your pulse point, your own heartbeat betraying you. You'd expected Toji to sass you back, say something about how your body was just so needy against his touch.

But instead, he dropped down to his knees in front of you. The wooden floor underneath his knees almost made him feel bad for all the times he had you in a similar position. Almost. Toji looked up at you, "Selfish only when it comes to you."

Every slow drag of his fingertips across your smooth skin seemed almost reverent— like you were something to worship. You were, he just failed to realize that until now. Until you were almost out the door. "I'm sorry," the first real apology of the night slipped out of his mouth, his lips pressed against your shin. "I'm sorry," he moved up to your knee, repeating the action. Hushed whispers of I'm sorry's and featherlight kisses moving up your legs, stopping only when he gets to your clothed cunt.

"I'm sorry," Toji uttered his last apology against your cunt, his eyes locking onto yours as he applied an open mouthed kiss on your clothed clit. Barely darting his tongue out, swirling it against the nerves that were just begging for one ounce of stimulation. And he was practically reveling in how needy he made you in the span of seconds. Your back arched to rest against the seat behind you, one of your hands going to rest on his head.

Toji's fingers dragged slowly in between your folds, feeling the wet patch already starting to form through the thin lace material. You refused to make eye contact with him, knowing that if you did, he'd be able to see just how desperate you were in just a manner of seconds. Even if the bastard probably had a clue already. "You sure your pussy agrees with the divorce?" His voice came out to something akin to a purr, the drag of his fingers slowing down.

Getting you even more worked up than you were already. "Fucking hate you, can't even apologize right," you let out a hiss, your hand going down to his hair. Pulling his head even closer to you despite your previous claim. "Fine, I'll apologize correctly," Toji sounded like you were the one inconveniencing him—to which you were. He wanted to take his time with his meal, have you begging for him to touch you. And normally, he would've.

If he weren't desperate to have your cunt on his face again after weeks, months? of just having his fist to work with. His fist and a used pair of your panties up to his nose like a pervert, hips humping the air in desperation. Imagining that it was your tongue flicking across his leaking tip instead of his thumb, that it was your soft hands in exchange of his rough ones. And as easy as it was for him to get laid—he didn't want to be with anyone that wasn't you.

Toji hadn't tasted someone as sweet as you, heard someone so angelic before, but now he supposed that maybe he'd have to put that theory to the test if you left him after all. Just the idea was maddening. That someone else would be doing the same thing that he's doing to you now, that they'd give you the affection that he should've given.

"Especially sorry to you. Been neglecting you for too long," he hooked his fingers around the side of your panties, pulling them to the side just enough to reveal your slick folds to him. Toji swiped the tip of his finger along your entrance, your slick glistening against the harsh kitchen lighting before he stuck in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it, licking away at it like the slut he was.

And like the deprived man that he'd been, Toji's hands went to the lace of your underwear and stretched it out until a loud rip echoed throughout the kitchen. "You always this wet for people you hate? Or is that just for me?" Toji taunted, pushing your tattered panties down to your ankles. Finally leaning in closer to where you were aching for him to touch you. To do something other than just tease you relentlessly.

Toji settled on his knees behind you, spreading your legs open like you were his favorite meal. His tongue swiped up on your dripping cunt, licking up your essence with sheer greed. "Mmph fuck, so good," his words came out muffled, his tongue swiping across your folds before darting inside of your cunt. Your grip on the table tightened, your hips working on their own accord to push back onto his face. Practically suffocating him in your pussy. Not that he minded. By any means.

Toji practically welcomed it, his hands pushing you down onto his face. Getting absorbed in your cunt completely. "A-Ah fuck, Toji!" You could already see the noise complaint hanging on your front door first thing in the morning. But how could you be expected to keep your voice down? Toji spread your folds apart with two fingers as if he were preparing for a feast, his tongue feverishly licking in between.

"Fuckin' soaked already, knew you loved me," The vibration of the low chuckle that followed his words shot currents up your spine, your ass jiggling all that much more in his face. With such a decadent taste coating his taste buds, dying by your pussy would be nothing short of a blissful way to go out. One of the fingers that he'd been using to spread your folds had been pushed inside of your cunt, your walls clenching around him.

Toji's tongue flicked against your clit, swirling the tip around the bud while his finger slowly pushed further inside of you. The loud squelch of your cunt was the only thing that filled the apartment, everything else completely silent. Your fingers dug deeper into his scalp, a low groan leaving his lips. "F-Fuck, Toji Toji," he pushed another thick finger inside, moving them in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.

"You think y're gonna find someone who can do this?" Toji looked up at you, his fingers curling up to hit that spongy spot inside of you almost perfectly. And if you didn't know any better, you'd almost say that he looked vulnerable while he made the question. Toji's lips wrapped around your clit, gently sucking on it as his fingers worked you closer and closer to your orgasm. You couldn't bring yourself to answer—didn't trust yourself to speak.

"Toji, Toji, gonna cum," you gave him a warning, your jaw falling slack and your lips parting in a o-shape. Soundless moans leaving your lips, feeling that coil in your lower tummy start to tighten up all the much more. With one final pump of his fingers, you were covering his lips with your release. His tongue swiped across his lips, across the scar that he hated, collecting every drop. Savoring what he imagined would be the last taste of you.

"Turn around," It was almost embarrassing how quickly you'd turned around per your soon-to-be ex husband's request.

Toji didn't take more than a couple seconds in unbuttoning his pants and taking them off, his cock hitting his stomach once it was released from its confines. Precum dribbled from his annoyingly almost pretty pink tip, dripping onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. His cock slid through your folds like a slip n slide, your previous orgasm coating his tip with every lazy drag. "Toji," your voice bordered on a whine, pushing your hips to try to meet his movements.

"Tell me what you want," Toji clicked his tongue, one of his hands moving to hold your waist. Keeping you completely still until he got what he wanted. You figured there wasn't any harm in whining—you were already fucking the man after you brought up a divorce. There truly wasn't that much more to lose. "Why do I have to ask for it when you're the one apologizing?"

"Because you're the one pushing your hips back against me. All needy 'n shit. So.. beg."

"Want you inside me, Toji. Please."

"Want?"

You let out a huff before correcting yourself, "Need."

"Come on, doll. You can say it nicer than that, right?" Toji's pointer trailed up your torso, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

So goddamn annoying. You swallowed whatever pride you had left before looking back over at him, "Please, Toji. Need your cock in me. Please."

Toji clicked his tongue, one hand wrapping around his cock and giving himself a couple tentative pumps. "Think you can beg better than that. But since I'm feeling nice, I guess I'll let it slide." So much for feeling apologetic. Toji pushed his cock inside of you in one swift motion, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. Even with the fingers that'd been inside of you, nothing could've really prepared you.

"You okay?" Toji dropped his head to rest on your shoulder, whispering the words in your ear. Staying still while your walls tried to adjust to the overwhelming stretch. "You try taking your cock," you muttered dryly, giving him a nod to start moving. "Why would I do that when you take it so well?" Toji pushed the rest of his cock inside, his hands resting on your hips.

Toji wasn't particularly known for being gentle—the one hospital visit after he'd injured your cervix more than enough proof of that, but he started off slow. Slow, shallow thrusts. Fucking you in a way that he hasn't since your honeymoon. "Toji, you can speed up," you assured him, your words getting cut off with a smack to your ass. "What I'd say about tellin' me what to do?" Ah, there was the mean Toji that you recognized.

"Wouldn't need to tell you what to do if my vibrator wasn't looking more appealing right now."

Famous last words.

The change was almost immediate. Mascara dribbled down your cheeks, the sight of your once composed makeup all ruined making Toji's cock twitch inside of you. "Fucking pretty like this, y'know?" His teeth sunk down on the junction of your shoulder, his teeth grazing across the sensitive flesh. His hips snapped roughly into yours, your breathing growing erratic. "Fuck, Fuck, Toji!"

The coldness of his gold wedding band hit your skin as soon as he went to grip your hips, holding you against him like he needed to be close to you. The two of you had been distant for some time and he hadn't bothered to take off his wedding band once, not even on the rare occasion that he actually did happen to take a job. Toji would never admit it, of course—but he was starved for the feeling of your skin against his own.

To confirm that you were still here after all.

Your hands reached out to grab to whatever you could grab—anything, and of course, it just happened to be the divorce papers sitting on the middle of the table. Practically taunting you as your own signature glared back at you. "This good enough for you, princess?" Toji taunted in your ear, his blunt fingernails digging into your sides. "Mhm, j-just like that," your voice came out in a mewl, all bits of defiance completely out of your system.

"There you go. Nasty fucking girl," Toji all but purred in your ear the moment you started to jerk your hips back to meet his own, your ass bouncing with each one of his thrusts. "Just needed Toji to take care of ya," all you could was nod your head fervently, your grip on the divorce papers tightening. And Toji, of course, took notice. He took the papers from you with one hand, giving them a once-over before passing them back over.

"Come on, since ya wanted it so bad, read me those divorce papers," Toji handed you the stack of papers, pointing to where you'd signed your initials just a couple hours prior. Your hands shook as you held the papers, your vision blurry as you tried to make out the legal jargon in front of you. Even the simplest of words seemed all too complicated to try to make out.

"T-Toji, I can't," your voice cracked, your grip on the papers tightening when his cock reached all that much deeper inside of you. Toji clicked his tongue, peering over your shoulder to read the first sentence from the document. "That's not what it says ma, try again."

"Without all the stuttering too."

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to focus on the words in front of you instead of Toji's cock sinking further and further into you. "S-Says that the divorce agreement was made today between us," you clutched the sheets tighter, your eyes almost rolling back when Toji bottomed out inside of you. The tip of his cock dripping precum, your walls fluttering as you tried to get adjusted.

"Mm, yeah, keep goin'," Toji really couldn't care—his focus solely on the way that your cunt stretched out to fit his cock. Leaking around his shaft, loud squelches when he pulled out overplaying whatever shitty soap opera was playing. "And what'd I say about the s-stuttering?" Toji mocked your words, his own hips stuttering mere seconds later while he tried not to get absorbed in your cunt. Not that it was an easy task by any means.

It was hard, especially with the way that you claimed to be over this marriage despite your pussy claiming otherwise. When you opened your mouth to speak, the only thing that left you was a moan. "F-Fuck Toji, right there," your eyes shut tightly at the touch of his calloused hand making itself in between your legs, his thumb rubbing at your clit in a speed that felt like it combated his own running abilities.

"That's not what it says, c'mon," Toji grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointer, turning your head to face the overwhelmingly long divorce papers. You wouldn't finish tonight if he intended for you to read the whole thing, you knew that much. A harsh slap against your swollen clit made the pleasure coursing through your veins mix with pain, a shaky gasp leaving your kiss-swollen lips.

Drool leaked from the corner of your mouth, the black ink smearing with each drop that fell from your parted lips. Your walls enveloped every inch of his cock perfectly, your cunt holding his cock in a vice-like grip. "That I won't try to t-take your things," you managed to get out, hoping that it would be good enough. You knew the two of you wouldn't finish today if he made you read the never ending stack of papers. 

"Good enough," Toji sounded like he would've kept it going if he could, but you set them down as quickly as he spoke. It was almost like Toji was trying to remind you of why you'd fallen in love with him in the first place—the man reverent to your cunt and your cunt only. Every grip of your hips kept you closer and closer to his body, almost as a way for Toji to make sure you weren't slipping away.

"Wh—" Before you had the chance to complain about the loss of contact, Toji had already carried you without a smidge of struggle. His hands hooked underneath your plush thighs, hoisting you up against the wall. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his slutty waist, practically clinging onto him like a koala. "There we go, there's that pretty lil face," Toji placed his pointer underneath your chin, taking in the view in front of him.

The glazed over look in your eyes, the sweat beading up on your forehead, the makeup that he'd successfully ruined—everything about you was just so beautiful. How you tried to avoid looking in his direction for too long. "Don't leave me ma, need you in my life," the words were whispered into your ear, his cock pushing back inside of you in one swift motion. Toji's fingers went back to your throbbing clit, his pointer and middle rubbing against it at the perfect speed.

Not too fast, not too slow, and not too rough.

"Don't ask me to do that," you almost sounded pained as you spoke—not from him filling you up, but for the implication of his words. You'd practically babble anything right now, anything for him to keep going. To forget about the reality that awaits the two of you. Toji's lips found yours in an instant, the exchange between the two of you almost depraved. His mouth was feverish in the way that it moved against yours, like he'd never get the chance again.

Your hand went to the back of his head, pushing him closer against you. Letting yourself forget for just a little while longer. A string of saliva connected your lips to his when you pulled away—only to catch air. "I’m close, Toji, so close," you whined against his lips, your release coating his shaft a mere moments later. Toji only used that as lubricant, his movements quicker against your cunt to chase his own release.

"There's no one else for me, I'll stop goin' to t-the casino, stop gettin' into trouble," Toji had been reduced to a babbling the first thing he pulled out of his ass, if only to get you to stay. His head rested against the junction of your neck, basking in the remnants of proximity that he could get. Shaky breaths left his lips with each thrust of his hips, feeling himself getting closer and closer. "You've been saying that since we've been married."

"I mean it this time, I promise," you'd never heard a lie sound so pretty slipping from someone's lips before until now.

He bit down on the side of your neck, hard. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to where you'd probably have to use a tube of concealer to even attempt to cover up the bruising mark. Causing you problems even now. But you'd be lying if the sudden act of possessiveness had your walls clenching against him even tighter, if that was even possible anymore.

His cock was barely moving against the tight grip you held around his shaft, his pace stuttering. "Fuck, fuck, so tight," Toji let out a loud groan, completely at the will of your pussy. He threw his head back, a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks in this lighting. Ropes and ropes of cum decorated your cunt, his softening length snug inside of you. Toji ended up pulling out a couple moments later, scooping the drops of cum that leaked down your thighs with his finger.

Toji was shameless in the way that he stuck the finger in his mouth, a low moan leaving his lips at the combined taste of him and you. Before your rationality came back, before you got the chance to even think about regretting this, you leaned in and crashed your lips against his own. Tasting yourself on his tongue. The kiss lingered between the two of you more than it needed to, it was less rushed than the prior ones you'd shared.

Like a last taste.

"So, you still want to get that divorce?" Toji knew you would've just babbled whatever for him to keep going, saving the question until now. His movements were almost reluctant as he pulled his pants over his legs once again, making little attempt to fix up his hair. If anything, his fingers only ended up messing the strands even more. Despite knowing the answer deep down, Toji still held out hope. That maybe you'd had some eye-opening moment while he was balls-deep.

You stood up properly, looking over at the ruined sheets on the table before looking back over at him. "I do," you spoke after a couple seconds, grabbing your tattered panties from the floor and smoothing over your dress. Trying to maintain whatever semblance of dignity you had left. Even if it was probably just as tattered up as your underwear at this point.

"Why? You know I love you. You know that you love me. So why should we get separated?" You did know that. But you also weren't sure that he'd ever loved you enough to consider changing. To consider the fact that you needed some sort of affection outside of sex.

"Because you think that somehow every problem between us can be resolved with sex. You say that you want to do better and yet, you never do. It doesn't even feel like you're my husband half of the time," all the bottled up feelings from the past couple months spilled out of you in a manner of seconds. All the bottled up thoughts that maybe you should've told your husband about earlier. Though, you weren't even sure if Toji would've paid it any mind.

And almost as if he'd read your train of thought, "Why didn't you tell me about all this before just hittin' me with divorce papers?"

"Because the few times that I did, you told me to stop bitching. That I shouldn't have anything to complain about with a roof over my head and a fridge full of food," you started off, almost waiting for him to deny what you were saying, "And while I'm not saying that I'm not thankful for those things, I also don't want to feel ungrateful for saying that I miss my husband."

Silence lingered between the two of you, each second that passed by only confirming what the two of you already knew by now. That a divorce wasn't such a far-fetched idea. Toji knew there wasn't left to even attempt fighting for, so he simply just told you, "I'll sign 'em when you get the new ones."

[alchemistc]

Y'all were so insistent that I keep going with the Eddie Fixes It By Making It Worse post breakup fic.

This is officially a three-parter. Sorry. Or you're welcome.

You can read part one here

We have to make out in front of Tommy.

Buck's in the ice cream aisle, reminding himself that he has given himself three more days of moping and ignoring his diet before he gets his ass in gear and starts to live a life again. The Halo Top is mocking him, jeering and heckling as he goes for the Blue Ribbon. Mint chocolate, because Buck always loved it and he can almost forget the mock fight he'd had with Tommy three months in when he told Buck he refused to allow toothpaste flavored treats into his home, and how they'd barely gotten back to his place without a public indecency citation.

He stares at the text until his eyes cross.

What, he sends back, and slowly, cautiously, returns the pint of ice cream to its spot in the cooler. Maybe he should lay off the sugar. He's had enough.

Trust me

It comes in almost immediately and Buck tries to rewind, tries to figure out what any of this means, what the context is, why he's getting an actual Trust Me Bro from his best friend.

You've already met your last and it's not me comes crashing back to the forefront of his mind. He's had a full 36 hours to forget it, and he had been nearly there, nearly ready to chalk it up to Tommy trying to make him angry. Which he's been doing a really fucking excellent job of, lately. Almost like he knows all the buttons to push. Like Buck had given him the owners manual.

Tommy had meant Eddie? How could Eddie have possibly come to that conclusion? What the hell was he doing sending Buck half across town to the market for snacks when -

Buck judges the distance from this market to Eddie's. Then to Tommy's.

"Oh you mother -."

A woman squeaks by with her kid in the cart seat and glares.

---

Are you at Tommy's right now

No question marks. This is an accusation. Buck's thankful there are no perishables in his cart as he abandons it in the lane and hikes it towards the door. It's a dick move, and Buck feels, a little spitefully, like if anyone remembers him they'll remember him from the times he and Tommy giggled and play-fought down the aisles, so they'll think of Tommy when they think of the cart left behind. Resent him for it, maybe.

Not like Tommy isn't particularly good at just leaving things behind.

Yeah. Join me.

Buck breaks through the doors and feels a little woozy. This might be a panic attack. His chest fucking hurts.

🖕just get my stuff and meet me at yours. tell Tommy we burned all his shit

Eddie is an asshole. I'm not gonna LIE to the man. Also he definitely doesn't have an Evan box ready to go, so take what you will from that

Buck's still in that vicious cycle where he goes from angry to upset to sad in record time, no barriers in between, where every bruise feels like it's healing too fast so he keeps pressing in just to watch the color muddle. He hates this.

It'd be a Buck box, Buck texts back, just to release some of the pressure behind his temples, and he pulls in a few deep breaths before he jogs for the Jeep. He's gonna go home. Throw on the DVD copy of Sleepless In Seattle Tommy left behind and then maybe once that's done he'll throw the damn thing in a blender.

Are you coming or not?

Buck turns the ignition and peels out in a direction that won't lead to his own home, or the things Buck has been too much of a mopey bastard to pack up and return to their owner. At a red light two miles down the road, he shares his location.

Eddie sends back an ominous Hope you brushed your teeth today.

---

Eddie gets the door and it sucks just as much as if Tommy had. They barely ever spent time at Tommy's, and Buck can see it now for the boundary it was. When they had, though, their time had been split pretty evenly between Buck picking him up for a date, and Eddie wanting to leave the quiet echo of his own house to hang with them - a car on a lift and beers shared between them, Buck watching the pull of muscle beneath Tommy's shorts as he took Eddie down to the mat, Tommy's fingers drifting through the short curls at the back of Bucks head while Eddie yelled about triple-doubles and chatted with Tommy about how impossible coverage was for some guy named Joker.

Buck has never actually figured out who that guy was. Eddie hated the Mavericks and he hated the Lakers but Eddie also complained about the guy so much he definitely wasn't a Clipper.

Eddie gets him by the forearm when Buck shows clear signs of regretting this. Drags him through the front door before Buck can fully execute his spin and stomp back to the Jeep.

Tommy's next door neighbor had waved at him from her yard where she was doing something new with her display of bird sculptures, and Buck hadn't had the heart to do anything but raise his hand back.

It's less than ten seconds before Eddie is steering him down the hall, into the living room. It's cozy in here. Lived in. Mismatched furniture that somehow fits, a blanket thrown over the side of the couch, dark wood tables and light wood flooring and lamps that look like they came from an estate sale up in the Hills. A huge ass TV set above the mantle of a gas fireplace that Buck never even had the opportunity to see working before... Before.

Tommy is a shadow coming out of the kitchen, and Buck can't help but be a little pleased that he looks as crappy as Buck feels.

---

Eddie claps his hands together before either of them can get a word in. "Okay. Here's the thing. You're both dumbasses and there's a lot of shit that you guys gotta figure out on your own. But apparently you," he points at Tommy with the lip of a beer bottle. Corona. Tommy hates the stuff, and Buck is reminded once again how dearly Eddie loves him, "need empirical evidence that there's no deeply repressed sexual tension between Buck and I. So."

"You're insane," Tommy says, and Buck feels like snapping at him. He's probably right. This is an insane thing to do. Eddie ambushed his ex and then ambushed Buck in the frozen treats aisle and now he wants to kiss Buck to prove a point? What??

Eddie ignores it. Turns to Buck. "How do you wanna do this?"

And now would be the time, actually. Now would be the time to cut the thread, make it clean, break it for good. Only despite his protest, Tommy is staring between them and his expression looks almost... hungry. Frightened, at the same time. Oh. Oh.

He really had thought...?

Eddie's a fucking idiot. Buck doesn't want to kiss him. He's squared with the fact that he definitely had a crush when they first met and he's definitely been attracted to Eddie and just not realized it but he doesn't want Eddie. He doesn't want a life with Eddie, not like that. He doesn't- He isn't -

He loves Eddie more than almost every other person on the planet, but he's not in love with him.

Buck squares his shoulders. Nods. "Yeah, okay," and then he's taking three strides to meet Eddie at the coffee table.

---

"Oh come on, are you serious?"

Buck ignores the exclamation from the peanut gallery. Tries to figure out where to put his hands. He's never really noticed the height difference before. It's barely anything - a couple inches at most - but it feels like he's looming, this close. Which is stupid. He's been this close to Eddie a million times.

Eddie bends his knees to set the beer down. Darts his gaze back up to Buck.

Buck's seen him pull this move before, and has to bite down the urge to cackle because those big brown cow eyes have charmed women up and down California and probably plenty of Texas too but the only time Buck's ever seen them look genuine was when he was looking at Shannon.

He's got a good face. Angular in all the right places, expressive in a way a lot of men try to hide. Good eyelashes, clear skin.

Eddie gets a thumb in one of Buck's belt loops and tugs.

It's a good move. It's a move that has inspired Buck to sink to his knees on more than one occasion with the right men. Man. Just the one man.

He desperately bites back a giggle when the front of their thighs brush and Buck feels nothing more than the heat coming off Eddie.

Eddie's flushed, just a little, like he's well aware how ridiculous this all is, but he's got his I'm So Fucking Serious face on and there is a part of Buck, something fucked up and broken and wrong, that wonders how Tommy would feel to see it. To know that Buck is out there in the world kissing people who aren't Tommy. It's not like he'd ended things because he didn't care for Buck, because he wasn't attracted to him. It's gotta sting, right?

Buck gets a hand on Eddie's waist, just above his hip bone. He's never actually paid attention to how much more slim Eddie is, before, how big Buck's hands feel against him.

The night Tommy had first kissed him, Buck had spent an indeterminate length of time replaying every second of the interaction. The lead up, the frank honesty, the way Buck's entire body had followed the flow of Tommy's. Heart racing, body thrumming: when Tommy had ducked his head, when he'd laughed, when he'd opened up his body language and dropped a tiny morsel of his heart, Buck had felt himself drawn in.

The lips that had caught his had set him alight.

Eddie shifts his weight and blinks up at him and for half a second Buck wants this to be a good kiss - earth shattering, life changing. He wants to feel it. Wants it to be better than every kiss he and Tommy ever shared.

The pointer and middle finger he uses to tilt Eddie's chin up are petty as hell.

[byechristopher]

hellooo can you write a fic where reader and chris have a pregnancy scare?

what could be.

Author's note: thank you for the request, and sorry for being so late, pft. I hope you like it anon, here is an angsty/fluffy fic with Chris. Him and babies make me giddy fr. Don't copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: uhm, none. But y'all.. use protection always. Didn't proofread!

⠀

It started with a simple sentence, one that hung in the air like a grenade waiting to go off.

"My period’s a week late."

Chris froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. The casual dinner we were having, sitting on the couch like we always did, suddenly felt like something fragile, ready to shatter. His face went pale as he put his fork down, staring at me like he hadn’t quite understood what I’d just said.

"What?" His voice was flat, cold.

I shifted uncomfortably, already regretting saying anything. "I’m late, Chris. A week late."

He sat back, his eyes narrowing as if he could will this entire conversation out of existence. "Are you serious?"

I nodded. "I thought it was just stress at first, but…"

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, the frustration already palpable. "How could this happen?"

The way he said it — like it was some personal failure, like this was my fault, made my blood run cold.

"Uhm, now I don't mean to break it to you.." I snapped, my voice rising defensively, "but we were both there, remember?"

"Yeah, well, you’re the one who keeps track of this stuff, right? Shouldn’t you have known?" His voice was sharp, accusatory, and it stung.

I stood up from the couch, the tension in my body rising like a tidal wave, "what the actual fuck are you even saying? You think I want this to be happening? You think this is something I wanted to deal with right now?"

Chris got up too, pacing in the small living room, his hands clenched at his sides, "no, I don’t know what the hell you want! All I know is, we’re not ready for this. We can’t be dealing with a fucking baby right now."

I felt the familiar lump forming in my throat, but I swallowed it down, refusing to let him see how much his words hurt. "Chris, we’re in this together, okay? Why are you acting like I did something wrong?"

"Because this is—" He stopped, running his hands over his face. "This changes everything, okay? Everything we’ve been working for. All our plans, all our.. us!"

"What, and a baby ruins all that?" I cut him off, my voice shaking with anger. "Is that what you think? That this would ruin everything?"

He didn’t answer right away, and the silence that followed was louder than any argument we’d ever had. He just stood there, staring at the floor, and I couldn’t tell if he was thinking or trying to come up with a way to end this conversation without making it worse.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "Yeah. I think it would."

I blinked, feeling like I’d been slapped. I could feel my heart racing, the adrenaline pushing through me, making me feel sick. "Wow," I whispered, stepping back like I needed space from him, like I couldn’t stand being near him right now. "That’s really how you fucking feel?"

He looked up, his face tight with frustration. "We’re not ready for this. You know that. You’ve got your career just starting to take off, I’m still figuring things out. It’s not the right time."

"You don’t get to decide that for both of us," I shot back, my voice cracking under the weight of the argument. "This is happening, whether you like it or not. What are you going to do if I am pregnant? Walk away?"

Chris’s eyes flashed with something—maybe guilt, maybe regret, I couldn’t tell. "I’m not walking away," he said through gritted teeth, "but I’m not going to pretend like I’m okay with this either."

I didn’t say anything else. I couldn’t. The hurt and anger tangled up inside me was too much, and if I opened my mouth again, I didn’t trust what would come out. Instead, I turned and walked out of the room, leaving him standing there, his silence chasing me as I went.

For the next day and a half, we barely spoke. Every interaction was charged, electric with the weight of what had been said and left unsaid. He slept on the couch that night, and I didn’t bother asking him to come back to bed. I wasn’t sure I wanted him there.

The test sat on the bathroom counter, waiting for me, taunting me with the unknown. I couldn’t bring myself to take it, not when things between us felt so raw, so fragile. But after another restless night of tossing and turning, I couldn’t take the uncertainty anymore. I had to know.

When I walked into the living room that morning, Chris was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at his phone. He looked up when I entered, and for a second, there was something in his eyes—regret, maybe. Or guilt. I couldn’t tell.

"I’m taking the test," I said, my voice flat.

He stood up, nodding stiffly. "I’ll come with you."

"Yeah, you don't fucking have to." I said, but he followed me either way.

We walked to the bathroom in silence, and I grabbed the box off the counter with shaking hands. Chris stood by the door, watching me, his expression unreadable. I couldn’t even look at him as I went through the motions, my stomach twisting into knots.

When it was done, we sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for the result. The timer on my phone ticked down, each second stretching out longer than the last.

"I’ve been thinking," Chris said suddenly, his voice softer than it had been in days. I glanced at him, unsure of what to expect.

"About what?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "About everything. About what I said… how I reacted."

I remained silent.

He hesitated before continuing, "I was scared, okay? I still am. I’m terrified, actually. But… I’ve been thinking. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing."

I blinked, surprised. "What?"

He looked at me, his expression softer now, more open. "I’m not saying it’d be easy. But if you are pregnant, I mean… we’d figure it out, right? We’d get through it."

For the first time in days, I felt a tiny flicker of hope. "You really think so?"

He nodded, his gaze steady on mine. "Yeah. I don’t want to be that guy who just freaks out and runs away. If it happens, I want to be there for you. For both of you."

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders. Maybe we’d been fighting, maybe we were scared, but hearing him say that made me feel like we could actually do this, if we had to.

"And if I really think about it.." he continued, his thumb on my cheek caressing the skin so gently, as if I was a porcelain doll, "the idea of having a little baby with you that looks just like their mom.. yeah, I think I'm fine with that." he teased with a little smile and that's all I needed to hear.

The timer went off, the sharp beep cutting through the air. We both froze, looking at each other.

"Do you want to…?" Chris asked, nodding toward the bathroom.

I shook my head. "You can look."

He stood up, walking over to the counter, his movements slow and hesitant. I watched him as he picked up the test, his face unreadable. For a moment, he just stared at it, not saying anything.

Finally, he looked up at me, his expression a mixture of relief and something else I couldn’t quite place. "It’s negative."

I let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the world lift off my shoulders. "Negative?"

He nodded, setting the test down and walking back over to me. "Yeah. You’re not pregnant."

Relief washed over me, but there was something else too. Something that felt almost like disappointment. I pushed it down, not wanting to think too much about it.

Chris sat down beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I’m sorry," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "For how I acted. I didn’t handle any of this well."

I leaned into him, closing my eyes as I let the warmth of his embrace chase away the last remnants of fear. "It’s okay," I murmured. "We’re okay."

"Is it crazy that I've started to warm up to the idea?" he whispered against my hair and even though I didn't want a baby, I still felt giddy hearing him say that.

"Your mood swings are acting up." I teased and buried my face into the crook of his neck, pressing a kiss there, "although.. so did I." I whispered.

[tragedy-machine]

Reading this felt like being hit in the head with a cricket bat because WHAT

First of all, I have so much trust in the dbda writers and am sure this crazy combo of words would have made an amazing story to watch on the screen, even though it may be hard to grasp the vision from a single tweet, because what in gay mad libs

SECOND OF ALL, EDWIN IN HIS DATING ERA???

I'm sooo here for it, I loved him getting multiple love interests in s1 and really wanted his streak to continue so this is perfectly up my alley

I'm obviously a huge payneland shipper and strongly believe that they would have been endgame, in however many seasons the writers planned to get there, I'm sure they did

I see the potential of them having a bit of a Jim and Pam arc - they're clearly important to each other and are shown to have feelings for each other to various degrees, but due to realizing it on different timelines, other people coming into the picture and bad timing, they keep missing each other until eventually, in season 3/4 the stars allign and finally get together

The payoff would have been sooo satisfying after seasons of obvious pining and tension

Edwin exploring being out for the first time and dating cute boys he meets, while trying to get over Charles a little bit (or at least accepting that he'll always love him but that it doesn't mean he can't love someone else too, especially when he believes he has no chance with Charles), while Charles is figuring out stuff with Crystal

They would have dated but ultimately broken up, bc as much at they like each other, I don't believe they would have been endgame (if you disagree, that's fine ofc, it's merely my what could have been prediction), so imagine Charles realizing something and going to talk to Edwin at the end of the season, only for Edwin to tell him that he's just made it official with the Irish boy (whom he's bonded with over being sacrificed??? holy shit! and the potential for more jealous-and-confused-about-it charles!!)

And we'd have to wait till season 3 for Charles and Edwin to get their shit together in the most beautiful payoff ever

[superscourge]

Resurrected AU Ch. 1: Alliance

(read on AO3 here!) Warnings (for the fic in general, not necessarily this chapter): Graphic depictions of violence, strong language, general mature themes Chapter Summary: Scourge breaks into one of Eggman's bases in search of a secret weapon to defeat Sonic with, but what he ends up finding is much stranger and much scarier than he was expecting. Though…he finds a way to get some use out of it. Notes: it really took me like a thousand years to get this started huh. lol. well i wanted to at least get the first chapter out before the sonic au collision event fully started, so im happy to present the first chapter of resurrected au's fic!! god i hope yall like it LOLLL, this au means a whole lot to me.. it's become my favorite baby i wont lie. i will also admit that im a Little nervous to finally start posting my actual writing for sonic stuff; i'm pretty self-conscious abt it actually lmao. but hopefully yall end up enjoying how i write these guys. please be niceys idk how long it'll take me to dish out the rest of the chapters, but hopefully i can find the time and energy to get them out steadily!! thanks in advance for reading and thank u so much for ur support and enthusiasm <3

--

It’s not every day that you get a juicy piece of info that could very well put the odds in your favor. That’s why Scourge was not gonna waste this opportunity.

He’d gotten word thanks to his incredible sleuthing skills [read: eavesdropping on strangers] that Eggman had a new base in the area and had apparently acquired a very powerful “secret weapon” of some sort. That was all he needed to know before deciding it was time to raid a base. After all, if he found that secret weapon? Sonic was toast.

It took a minute to actually find the damn place, but soon enough, Scourge was skidding to a stop at the treeline before what looked to be a large, dome-shaped structure with the patented Eggman symbol on it (or something that looked like it; Scourge figured it was close enough). He smirked, flipping his shades down over his eyes and speeding off towards the entrance.

As expected, badniks littered the area around the main entrance to the base. They looked a little funny, Scourge noted; they seemed a little more…high-tech than he was used to seeing. But, whatever–he figured it wouldn’t be an issue once they were busted to scraps.

… He did have a little trouble with these bots. Just a little. But it was no biggie, since he ended up finding a way inside before he could be overwhelmed. All’s well that ends well, he supposed.

The inside of this place was…confusing. So many twists and turns, rooms that led into other rooms, platforms that moved in weird directions…

“Doesn’t this place have a map?” Scourge grumbled to himself as he ran through the absolute maze of hallways.

After what seemed like forever, he finally came to what was clearly the main, central chamber of the base. There was a very complicated-looking keypad attached to it. Luckily, Scourge was very good at lockpicking.

Stepping back a bit, he hopped up and curled into a spindash before launching himself at the keypad. It took a bit of work, but before long, the whole thing was smashed to bits with sparks flying everywhere. Just as he’d hoped, the door opened once the keypad was destroyed. With a triumphant snicker, he unfurled and landed back on the floor before confidently waltzing into the chamber.

Inside looked pretty much as he expected it to–tubes and gadgets everywhere, lots of high-tech machinery that did Gaia-knows-what, lots of papers littered about several desks that clearly showed the work of an evil mastermind…

Yeah. Deffo an Egg-base.

“Now, where’s that weapon…” Scourge questioned aloud as he strolled through the room. He pulled out some drawers and rummaged around here and there, but he didn’t really find anything interesting so far. Surely this thing wasn’t hidden that well, right?

Just as he was starting to get frustrated, he came across a huge capsule of some kind right in the middle of the room. Pretty obvious, actually. He wasn’t that observant, but whatever. He raised his shades to where they were resting back in their place on his head before he rubbed his hands together with a huge, toothy grin. “That looks promising.”

Making his way to the door of the capsule, he tried to peek inside through the little window on the front of it. He couldn’t make anything out… He decided to just open it to get a look at what was inside, so he searched around for a switch of some kind that would do that for him. It didn’t take long, thankfully, and he quickly pressed the button down that would activate the door.

Smoke spewed out from the door as it opened, making Scourge cough a bit. He waved his hand to clear some of it out of his way as he impatiently waited for it to dissipate enough for him to see what he was in for.

This had to be some sort of cool gun. He knew it was. Some kinda laser shooter or something. Or maybe a bazooka. Oh–a cannon, even! He dearly hoped it was a cannon, actually. The smoke was almost fully cleared, so he leaned in excitedly to see what was inside…!

… It was…a guy. There was a guy in there.

“What the–?” Scourge furrowed his brow once he got a good look at the contents of the capsule. It was obviously a person–a jackal, it looked like? Definitely not a cannon. Who the hell was this? He looked rough, like he’d really been put through the wringer. His drip was cool, Scourge supposed, and the big, gnarly scar on the guy’s chest was pretty intimidating…

Mine’s still cooler, he thought to himself.

Suddenly, alarms sounded throughout the base. Scourge cursed under his breath as he looked over his shoulder. He turned back to the man in the capsule, making a quick decision–he’d snag him and take him with him. He probably had some idea of where the weapon was, so once he woke up, he’d just beat the information out of him if he wouldn’t give it up willingly.

Grabbing the jackal out of the capsule and slinging him over his shoulder, Scourge finally sped out back through the way he came. He was able to dodge any bots that tried to come after him thanks to his speed, and soon enough, he was outside and running through the trees of Mobius once again.

He ran until forest turned to jungle, and before long he was slowing to a stop once again in a small clearing where bits of light showed through the canopy up above. He rested the other man’s body down on a bed of moss near a small pond, figuring that’d be…somewhat comfortable, and he then took a seat on a fallen tree a few feet away.

It was only a matter of seconds before he began to tap his foot. What was he supposed to do now? Just sit there waiting for this guy to wake up? That could take hours… He didn’t have that kind of patience.

Deciding to take the initiative, Scourge stood and started walking over to the jackal, intending to just…lightly kick him until he woke up, or something. However, he didn’t get the chance.

A low, threatening growl could be heard rumbling from the stranger’s throat. Scourge stopped in his tracks once he heard it, then took a few paces back. How long had he been–?

One yellow eye opened to a squint, scanning the area before landing on Scourge. For some reason, the look the man was giving him made his skin crawl… Not that he was going to let him know that, though.

Instead, Scourge popped the collar of his jacket to regain his composure and puffed out his chest. “Took ya long enough,” he teased right off the bat. “I was startin’ to think you were dead.”

The jackal’s gaze lingered on him coldly for a few moments. However, he looked elsewhere when he began to speak. “... I should have been.”

That…wasn’t the response Scourge was expecting. The way he sank a bit betrayed his confusion. “... Wait, what?”

The man sat up, sort of startling Scourge into taking another step back. As he did so, he fully opened both of his eyes so that he could properly take in his surroundings. He was clearly ignoring the hedgehog beside him as he turned his head away, which didn’t really sit right with Scourge.

“Hey!” he barked. “I’m talkin’ to you!”

Giving no indication that he was listening, the man proceeded to rise to his feet, standing at his full height. Scourge sort of…shrank a little once he saw how actually tall this guy was. He knew jackals were generally bigger than hedgehogs, but this guy…

No, no, it was fine. No need to be afraid. He was still in charge here–this guy just didn’t know it!

With an annoyed sneer, Scourge dared to stomp a little closer. “Listen here, pal. If it weren’t for me, you woulda still been stuck in that base. I went outta my way to rescue you, got it? That means you owe me one. So, I’m gonna tell you how this is gonna go down, and you’re gonna–hrk!”

A clawed hand suddenly gripping his neck caused Scourge’s words to get caught in his throat… At least, that was part of it.

The jackal had snapped his head around to glare murderously at him as he grabbed him, which gave Scourge a very clear view of his face. He could see his one piercing yellow eye staring back at him…and he quickly noticed that the other eye had some kind of rock lodged into its socket. It was an eerie sight, and it definitely sent an intense chill up Scourge’s spine.

“You,” spat the jackal, voice deep and commanding, “do not control me.”

Unable to respond, Scourge just kind of…dangled there, hands gripping the other’s wrist as he kicked his legs a little. The expression he wore was enough of a response, though, so he was released after a moment of struggle. Once he was able to breathe and stand on his own again, he gasped for air and rubbed at his throat with an indignant look.

“What the hell?” he managed to say between coughs. “Who do you think you are, grabbin’ me like that?”

Turning away, the taller man didn’t bother to look at him as he replied. “I am Infinite,” he answered simply.

There was a pause as Scourge seemed to wait for him to say something else. When he didn’t, he furrowed his brow a little. “... Like, that’s your name, or…?”

The man–Infinite, apparently–seemed to hesitate, as if he was surprised that Scourge didn’t recognize him. One of his ears flicked.

“... I suppose enough time has passed that my name is no longer common knowledge,” he mused, half to himself. “Pity. I would have liked to think I made a bigger impact than that.”

Scourge watched as Infinite turned to fully face him again, making him subconsciously take a couple steps back. Man, this guy was kinda scary… Not that he couldn’t take him! He was just giving him the creeps, was all… Cyan eyes flicked to Infinite’s hands as he flexed his fingers.

“I will simply have to remind the world what true fear feels like,” he growled lowly, “and I suppose that starts with you.”

The rock embedded in Infinite’s eye began to glow as he summoned its power, and, to Scourge’s bewilderment, he began to lift off the ground and hover there. It was kind of scary, actually. The guy was floating. What the hell?

Then it hit him. The weapon Eggman had been hoarding wasn’t a gun or a cannon or anything like that. It was Infinite. He obviously held some sort of power that Eggman wanted to weaponize, and that must have been why he’d been locked up in that base… Things started clicking.

Despite Scourge expecting him to do… anything, really…Infinite proceeded to seize up in pain and let out an agonized yell. He suddenly collapsed to the ground, falling to his knees as he held himself up with one hand and gripped his head with the other. “W… What…?!” 

Infinite’s hand moved from his head to his chest where the large scar marked him. When he felt nothing but the scar, he had a look of both anger and confusion on his face, which told Scourge that what just happened clearly wasn’t the plan.

… Interesting.

Scourge stood a little straighter once he was confident that this guy wasn’t about to explode or something, sticking his thumbs into his jacket pockets. “Aaaalright, Criss Angel. If you’re done with all that , I think it’s time we get down to business.”

While Infinite knelt there still trying to figure out what was going on, Scourge began to pace around him in a circle, smirking as he did so. “Look. Like I said before, I rescued you from that base, so you kinda owe me one. But–and hear me out on this one–I’m willin’ to come to a compromise.”

Infinite snapped out of his pained daze long enough to shoot another glare at Scourge as he came around to his front again. “Compromise?” he hissed.

Scourge nodded. “Yeah. So, listen–I didn’t get to introduce myself earlier.” He held up a thumb and pointed it at his own chest, teeth bared in some kind of nasty grin. “Name’s Scourge. If ya haven’t hearda me by now, then you’ve been livin’ under a rock.”

Infinite somehow doubted that this brat had left enough of a mark on the world that anybody off the street would know his name. Still, he let him continue.

“I wanna take out Sonic. I assume you know him, right? Well, I think you’re just the guy who can help me out with that. He’s gotten lucky so far, but I think with you backin’ me up, I’ll be able to finally give ‘em his just desserts.”

The name Sonic caused a spark of recognition to flash over Infinite’s good eye. His breathing began to steady. “... Sonic,” he repeated. “Yes, I am familiar with Sonic .”

The way Infinite said his name let Scourge know that there was some beef there, at least. This worked in his favor. “Good,” he said with a nod. “So we’re on the same page, then.”

He turned on his heel before stopping his walk, facing Infinite to speak to him directly. “Like I said, I want you to help me take him down. Easy, right? In exchange, though… I’ll help you out with whatever you want, too. I dunno if you knew this, but I’m basically just as strong and just as fast as that blue bastard. I could give anybody a run for their money if I felt like it.”

Narrowing his eye skeptically, Infinite mulled this over. He seemed to be recovering from the shock from before, and he stood back up onto his feet. It was evident from how long he took to respond that his mind was…elsewhere.

“... I see.” His tail swished behind him as he thought about his next words. “You are offering to aid me in whatever task I ask of you?”

“Cross my heart.”

Infinite gave a huff before crossing his arms. “... Fine. If you intend to uphold your end of this bargain, then I will do the same.”

Scourge smiled widely, his sharklike teeth almost glistening in what little sunlight was managing to poke through the canopy above them. This idiot. He had no idea that he had every intention of double-crossing him the first chance he got.

He held out his hand for a shake to seal the deal. “Glad to have ya aboard, Infinite.”

Infinite glanced down at the other’s hand before reaching forward and taking it, giving it a single shake. His grip was tight. “Let us make the most out of this partnership, shall we?”

… Infinite was not stupid. He instantly knew that Scourge was going to betray him. That overconfident fool was so transparent it almost made him sick.

But…he could also tell that he had some bite to his bark, even if it was just a little. He was seasoned enough as a soldier that he could see that. That meant he could get some use out of him before he pulled his own betrayal.

He no longer had the Phantom Ruby in his chest, and he was alive, and he had no idea why. If this green idiot could help him figure that out…then he’d play along for as long as he had to.

Either way, he was going to get answers. And once that was done? He was going to rip out Sonic’s miserable little throat.

☆

[gogodollie]

sister imperator being the one to give copia his first few t shots.

you know how sister is- if she wants something done, it will get done. so when copia offhandedly starts talking ti her about other siblings that are on hormone therapy copia, she gets the hint and goes ahead with starting that process. being on the dyke scene in the 60s, sister would have a good chance of actually having the resources to get access to hrt and know where to get some semblance of knowledge on how to dose copia (or at least she’s hitting up her old butches to call in a favor to figure things out for him). a week, a month, two months pass and suddenly she’s knocking on copia’s door with a small brown paper bag in one hand and a bright red sharps container hanging at her side.

she sits him down on the lidded toilet and kneels in front of him while she talks him through the process, putting each item up on the countertop beside them as she goes through the instructions- needle, draw, swap, syringe, swab, inject. simple, right? copia is nodding along all big and bright eyed, heart racing in his chest as he tries to follow her movements but the excitement and adrenaline is all getting to him. once everything has been gone over, sister will awkwardly slap his knee as she stands up to leave and wishes him luck. the bathroom is so so empty without her there but it gives copia a second to breathe, gave him arms and body a big shake to try and get the jitters out enough to focus on the task. he’s able to get through drawing up the medication and nervously swap the needle caps, pinch the fat of his stomach before he’s suddenly frozen and realizes how much his hand holding the filled syringe is shaking. just this once, he figured he could handle needles and shots and injections and all of that good stuff- that it wouldn’t be like the times he spent kicking and crying in the doctors office for his routine shots because he wants this so badly. but he’s stuck in place and can’t bring himself to do it.

shuffles out of the bathroom with teary eyes and tells imperator i think maybe this is too soon and maybe i should wait a little longer but sister can see through it and, mildly worriedly, leads him back to the bathroom by the elbow to sit him down again. she’s not good with comfort and tears; can’t read emotions as well as she probably should be able to and certainly doesn’t know how to react to them, she never has been. but she knows how much this all means to copia. so instead of playing along, she tells him that she can do it. grabs the needle from where it’s seated on the plastic packing and the alcohol swab where she had placed it minutes earlier. spares copia a glance, a raised eyebrow challenging him to tell her that he was serious about not being ready but she’s just met with a nervous nod and a quiet “alrighty” in confirmation. copia’s face screws up squeaks out a nervous sounding “did you do it yet?” imperator sighs and assures him that the cold he felt was, in fact, just the alcohol swab. she carefully pinches the baby fat of his stomach, and pushes the needle in as carefully as she can without letting it draw on, knowing that if copia holds his breath any longer he’ll probably faint. drops the used needle into the disposal and reaches over for the tin of bandaids, scoffs fondly when she pulls out one with a pixelated luke skywalker on the front of it and sticks it over the small bead of blood that’s begun to form on his abdomen. copia finally opens his eyes- looks down at his stomach, then to the vial on the counter next to him, then to sister. nerves and excitement are still eating at him as he thanks sister, rambles on about something in his classes to try and seek favor or a distraction or something that she can relate to but she just nods slow and disposes the used items. she’ll stand up and place a hand on his shoulder and look like she’s about to speak but her mouth opens and she has nothing to say so she gives a curt nod instead, like he’s supposed to understand what that means.

for the next month, each week sister will set up station in the bathroom and help with his doses until he works up the courage and comfort enough to tell her that he thinks he can handle it now- and she’ll pass over the syringe and vial because she knows he can. she can’t do the emotional part of this all, can’t hold copia and assure him he shouldn’t be afraid and that his worries don’t worry her too. but she can handle the practical things, can fight to make sure copia gets what he needs and prays that will be enough for however long it takes.

[sisislair]

More on the re-listen/read.

The second Jun Wu gets back he starts chipping away at Xie Lian's support base.

First with Feng Xin by telling Xie Lian about him forgiving the debt and helping him out. Which on the surface would seem nice of him, to let Xie Lian know that his old friends might still care about him. But he already knows that due to their very poorly disguised selves helping him out. What this is doing, however, is making Xie Lian complicit in Jun Wu breaking their secrecy. He was specifically told not to reveal this information to Xie Lian. So now there is no way for Xie Lian to acknowledge their good deeds naturally, without revealing how he found out.

And surely, if he's been told this secret, what other things are being said about the two of them behind their backs between Jun Wu and Xie Lian? It's not that big of a thing, but it doesn't have to be. The gap between the three old friends is already large enough that Jun Wu widening it ever little bits at a time won't be noticed.

Secondly, of course, he tries to drive a wedge between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian. The support of a ghost king is no joke, and I think by this point he has already started to make assumptions about their relationship. Same as the rest of the heavens honestly lol.

But either way he sends him to investigate Hua Cheng specifically because he knows it will fuck Xie Lian up to have to investigate someone who's being nice to him, and even if he can't make him distrust Hua Cheng with all the bits he's been dropping about how evil he is, then the least he can do is make Xie Lian feel so guilty that their friendship withers because of that.

And Xie Lian is torn up about it! Hua Cheng is being a wonderful host and friend to him, and he's snooping through his stuff! The wind master is like, 100% you should not have accepted this mission, ghost king or no, even if Jun Wu himself told you too. Because he obviously considers you his friend. But Xie Lian still sees Jun Wu as a trusted mentor figure, even if he doesn't always agree with him, so he reasons that of course Jun Wu knew this would be awkward for him. So he must have thought that Xie Lian was the only person who could do this task right.

And I mean, to be fair, not entirely inaccurate, if by do this right, you mean not jump to the immediate conclusion that Hua Cheng is in the wrong. As well as subtlety. Of which Lan Qianqiu has none lol.

So on the guilt end he is very much succeeding, which like, no surprise.

Xie Lian is the champion of feeling guilty about things. But on the trust end? Ghost city arc is so important for establishing a foundation for their relationship.

Jokes on Jun Wu, because his sending Xie Lian on this mission very firmly sets into his mind that Jun Wu and the other heavenly officials are all just talking bullshit when it comes to Hua Cheng.

Oh he can't be trusted! And yet he keeps his promises.

Oh he lives in a den of depravity and is cruel! But he obviously has a handle on things, and is very well respected, not just feared.

Oh his scimitar is super cursed! And yet it does Xie Lian no harm, and acts like an eager puppy.

Xie Lian's been on the wrong side of the rumor mill for a long time, he knows how this shit goes.

[cornflowerbluewrites]

And then Tim finally looks at him and there is sorrow and guilt written plain as day in every line of his face. Dick takes a half step back, alarm bells ringing in his head as Tim says, “I’m sorry.”

Which, by itself would be alarming, but then Tim reaches out and in one swift movement, slaps one end of a Batcuff around his wrist, the metal swinging through the mechanism and then around to lock on Dick’s wrist. In the next moment, he had slapped the other end of the cuff around the metal bar of the cot and grabbed his belt, pulling it away just as Dick makes a grab for it.

“Tim,” Dick says, watching as Tim rapidly retreats with his belt clutched tightly in his hands, “Buddy, why did you handcuff me to a cot?”

“I’m not uncuffing you,” Tim says, his voice resolute.

“Okay, not what I asked,” Dick says, trying to figure out if he can reach for any of the panic buttons on him without Tim noticing.

-

🥺

Alrighty! Let's crack into this scene!

Honestly, all of RRRR is so much fun for me to write, but I especially have fun when I'm playing around with who has access to what kinds of information. In this particular scene, Tim has access to a whole lot more information than Dick does because Tim remembers all the previous loops and Dick doesn't.

Tim is also, to put it loosely, at the end of his rope here. Because he keeps waking up to Dick joking with him in the kitchen and Dick not remembering the day before, and that means that Tim (and all the other Bats) failed. It means that Dick died again and the day has repeated.

So he's trying to do his best to keep Dick alive, but he also knows that Dick isn't going to understand why they're doing this. And he does feel bad about the fact that he's going to lock Dick in the medbay without any real explanation as to why.

There is also contributing factors into why they collectively didn't tell Dick for several loops that I'm withholding because Dick doesn't know it so my lovely readers don't get to know it either, lol. That's my secret to keep (at least for now ;)).

So Tim has much more of the picture than Dick does and he's swiftly running out of ideas on how he can keep Dick alive through the day, which is what everyone is pretty sure is the end condition because Dick's death restarts the loop immediately.

Hence the Batcuff.

Tim also knows that he has to move fast because Dick has been doing this longer than Tim has, so he has a plan in place and he's not taken by surprise, which is why he's able to grab the belt away from the table.

Dick then gets to have the very reasonable response of asking why Tim locked him to the medbay and Tim, who is having a much different conversation, tells Dick that he's not unlocking him, because eventually that was where the conversation would go and he's cutting right to the point. His reaction leads to Dick trying to start problem solving in that he needs to push a panic button (because you cannot convince me that there are not several Bruce mandated panic buttons on all the Bats at all times) to alert everyone else that Tim is not behaving rationally as far as Dick is concerned.

This scene is important because it starts the loop where Dick does get told about the time loop and then hears his family start dying without the opportunity for him to go help them in any meaningful way until it would be too late, but they've already communicated to him what the restart condition is. And all that starts here, with Tim making the decision to try and prevent Dick from escaping in his own way.

From a the writer's view, I needed Dick in the medbay for this loop, and Tim was the perfect vessel for it! The rest is just fun stuff I get to add on top for extra flavor, lol!

Ask for more fic DVD commentary!

[atheneum-of-you]

I've talked a lot about priest/ priestesshood on my blog recently as well as my journey as a priestess in training for Lord Hermes. (I promise I'll post other stuff as well this has just become the forefront of my life recently and I enjoy sharing my journey!)

With that in mind, I wanted to share what it's like deciphering card pulls with Hermes, particularly when it comes to tasks. As I've started in a couple of previous posts, tasks are basically your training and given to you by your god to strengthen your skills with them and teach you how to work under them. It's similar to job training.

The Cards

Before I ask for my tasks, I like to ask him if he has any messages for me, typically a 1 or 2 card pull. I was immediately given the Sword card.

The card represents birthright and purpose. I had taken this as another small confirmation that priestesshood was the right path for me (as I had done a small tarot reading for myself earlier saying something similar). I had no clue that he had drawn the card for a meaning I would only figure out later, but with that now in mind, I moved on. I asked for my next task for him and drew the following cards:

I was a little surprised to see 2 cards from my last task reappear (the fields and the cottage in the woods) and at first glance of the cards I assumed it would be another Demeter message (as it is winter it would make sense for her to be particularly active). But the crossroads stumped me. The crossroads are typically associated with Hecate, not Demeter. Additionally, I didn't draw the Herald card (Hermes's card), so I wasn't entirely sure if this was a message to be delivered. Did Hecate want to speak with me directly? But why draw the Pair card? Hecate is a trio goddess.

Epithets

The cards stumped me for a while and I ended up leaving the task incomplete, deciding it'd be best to revisit with a clearer head (I was dealing with a lot yesterday).

As I woke up this morning, I looked to my references to find a suitable epithet of Hermes to pray to this morning. And while looking, I noticed one specifically that piqued my interest. One I wasn't aware of before.

Hermes Trikephalos.

Hermes of road-intersections. Hermes three headed.

Hermes has a crossroads association.

Suddenly my cards started to slowly piece together. The crossroads card was never about Hecate, Hermes is the god of travel, the messenger of gods. ALL gods, including the chthonic. I didn't need the Herald card, he had represented himself using an epithet he wanted me to learn.

Interpreting the Cards

I had learned from my previous task that Hermes doesn't always use the cards' intended meaning when giving me my tasks, so I always observe the cards themselves and the picture they create before interpreting them individually. I almost exclusively use this deck for Hermes because it's a panoramic deck, meaning when put together, the cards can form a much larger image:

While naturally everything doesn't line up perfectly, it does create a scene. A pair (which I immediately considered lovers) overlooking a field and home in isolation. Across from the home (a little distance away), a goddess statue points to a crossroads. I'd already established that the crossroads card signified Hermes, but it was more than that. The crossroads represent the intersection between our world and the gods' and are heavily associated with the chthonic gods. It represented a goddess at the crossroads, her back turned to a lonely field that she overlooked with her lover.

Suddenly, it all made sense. The cards spoke of Persephone, leaving the mortal fields of her mother's (hence me drawing both cards of Demeter's from my last reading) and making her descent back into the Underworld. My task was not a message to deliver, but a study session.

The Completed Task

I had learned a new epithet oh Hermes, had learned how to read my cards without using the actual meanings of them, and learned how to read them as a vision/ story. Sometimes, my duties as a messenger will involve me needing to not observe the strict meaning of the cards and instead interpreting them as a vision. Similar to skrying.

I was fully prepared to run around trying to figure out what message to give to who, but this was an absolute blast to decipher. Hermes's tasks tend to be criptic and very much as a combination of games. Clue, Guess Who, word association, puzzles, riddles, etc. He makes you have to think critically and outside of the box and purposely tries to stump you. Things won't mean what you think they mean, and it turns into a battle of wit, and if he can successfully outsmart you. And your job as his underling is to not let him. Honestly, I think if I were using any other deck, I'd be pulling my hair out.

I revisited the Sword card from earlier and realized it had a whole new meaning. It wasn't just confirmation. He was telling me to be sharp, and to always be ready for his tricks and games. And I'll be moving forward with that in mind from here on out.

This is what it's like, training under Hermes. And it's the most fun I've had in years.

[taesansbeloved]

WHY ARE YOU NERVOUS? SHE'LL LOVE ME (희승)

synopsis: heeseung meets your 4 year old daughter for the first time. warnings 🚨 children, angst if you squint, fluff, skinship, petnames, and all that good stuff. Not proofread 👍🏻

(Heeseung)

Nova notes: I kid you not, I had this idea for around two weeks now but was too lazy to write it. Hope you like it though! MWAH!

You were sitting on the couch watching Areum, your 4 year old daughter, play with her toys on the ground. You were bouncing your left leg up and down anxiously, catching Areum's attention.

"Mommy, you're nervous." Areum stated, looking up at you with big doe eyes.

Today was THE day. Heeseung, your boyfriend for 1 year now, was coming to your home to visit your daughter for the first time.

You had Areum in your early collage. It was a stupid one night stand thing. One time, you were heavily drinking at some frat party, and then you found yourself in some guys bed in morning. You didn't think much if it then.. not until you found out you were pregnant two weeks later.

At first, you were trying to find ways to get rid of her. Like how would a 19 year old have a child already, that by itself sounds absolutely bonkers. You thought of abortion, putting her up for adoption, but you couldn't get through with any of these. Before Areum was even born, you felt extremely close with her. You loved her. So much. So you decided to keep her.

You decided, for your safety and for Areum's, to not date again. You had no interest in dating or anything of that kind. You were content with being on your own with your little daughter.

But 3 years later, you met heeseung. He was a random customer sitting in the café you were sitting in, studying furiously and quickly, trying to finish quickly to pick up Areum from her daycare.

Heeseung, who was watching from afar, was intrigued. A girl, adorable looking, with wide black rimmed glasses studying with her brows furrowed really caught his attention.

He walked up to you and sat in the seat opposite with a ridiculously good looking smile.

Your first reaction was, 'holy shit, he's gorgeous', the your reaction was, 'ew, no that's a guy.'

You looked at him from above your glasses with a 'what the f are you doing here look'. And he gave you another stupid smile.

"Hey." He simply said as you looked behind you, wondering if he's crazy.

"What do you want?" That was the first words you uttered to him and he was shocked to say the least.

"Just wanted to say hi." He said, covering up his shock and confusion.

"Well, bye. I have to go I'm in a hurry." You said quickly as you took a quick glance at your watch and realised that Areum was about to finish her day at the daycare. And you quickly gathered your stuff and left Heeseung sat there confused and looked at your rushing figure with eyes of intrigue.

Ever since then, Heeseung went to that café every single day for a chance to meet you again, which he successeded at every single day.

Few interactions here, few interactions there. Heeseung's gentlemanleness and acceptance about you having a daughter had you rethink your thoughts about that dating thing, and gave it a chance.

Now, a year into the relationship, you decided to introduce the two most important people in your life yo eachother.

You were worried for the sole reason of Areum disliking Heeseung, cause if she did that means that he's not the guy.

Now to the present day, you glanced at your beautiful daughter with eyes of adoration. "Yes, I'm just a little nervous today cause we're having a guest over." You said nervously l, watching Areum's reaction carefully.

She smile up at you with a beautiful smile and jumped up happily, "really? Who? Who? Who?" She asked excitedly as your nerves grew, scared of disappointing her.

"A special person that I think you'll love very much." You said picking her up and placing her on your lap.

"Do I know them?" She asked with big eyes that reminded you of Heeseung's.

Before having the chance to answer, there was a knock that can be heard from the other side of the front door.

"Is that them?" Areum asked, jumping down from your lap and ran to the door, waiting for you to open it.

You brushed your sweaty palm down your black sweatpants and got up to open the door.

You took a deep breath and opened the door slowly, revealing your insanely good looking boyfriend.

He was standing there with a bouquet of Lily's, your favourite, and a box full of goods and snacks that Areum really liked. The attention to detail that this man had drove you crazy at times.

"Hello." He said as you came inside, his calm, gentle voice filling the silence.

"Woah." Areum voiced unconsciously as she looked up at Heeseung. "You look like bambi." She continued, staring at Heeseung with and open mouth.

Heeseung's smile spread even more as he looked down at Areum with the most soft smile you've ever seen.

"You must be Areum. Your mom told me a lot about you." He said, crouching down to her height (that was still impossible because he's that tall) you didn't even realise that Heeseung was still not even inside the house so you opened the door further, but heeseung didn't make the move to walk inside.

Areum started shying away and hid herself behind your leg. Heeseung laughed softly as he got up and walked inside the house and closed the door gently behind him.

"Hi, baby." He said, kissing your forehead lightly and wrapped an arm around your waist.

Before you could respond, you heard Areum gasp. "What are you touching my mommy?" She asked with a deep frown, chiding Heeseung.

Heeseung immediately removed his arm from stood away from you. "I'm sorry. Hi, I'm heeseung and..." He glanced at you, asking for help on how to introduce himself as your lover.

"And he's the special someone I told you about." You helped and Areum glanced between you two suspiciously.

"I got you a gift." He said as the three of you walked to the living room. Areum sitting between you two on the couch, to keep distance ofcourse.

He placed the basket of goods, toys, and snacks on her tiny lap, gently holding it to ease the weight from her legs.

Areum looked at the him suspiciously then her eyes lit up at the sight of the content that's in the basket.

"OMG! Mom, look! He got me Monster Munch (it's a British baked corn snack, my fav :>)!" She exclaimed as the shoved the packet of Monster Munch in your face.

You and Heeseung watched as she rummaged deeper through the basket, exclaiming at each and every thing.

While watching your daughter with a fond smile and warm eyes, you felt a gentle hand tapping your shoulder. You looked past Areum and saw Heeseung looking at you with the same warm eyes your giving Areum.

"Do you think she likes me now?" He whispered, brushing a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

"Oh, she adores you now." You whispered back, leaning into his touch.

While you and Heeseung were sharing your moment, you felt a slight tug at the ends of your shirt. You looked down and was met with Areum's bright eyes.

She gestured for you to bend down and whispered in your ear, "is he my new daddy?" Your eyes widened as Heeseung smiled widely.

"Do you want him to be?" You asked, feeling Heeseung's eyes on the both of you.

"Well, is he bad like my actual daddy?" She asked, voice too innocent to be uttering out those words.

You shook your head quickly as Heeseung got up from the couch and sat on the floor, opposite of her.

"I'm not a bad guy, Areum. I actually came today to ask for your blessing." He said, voice so soft and gentle as you and Areum looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Blessing for what?" You asked.

"Marriage, mommy." Areum answered you as Heeseung chuckled at your daughters smart brain.

You looked at Areum then at Heeseung then at Areum again and asked, "and do you agree?" Areum looked at Heeseung with soft eyes.

"Well, he's handsome, looks like bambi, and he loves you. So yes!" She exclaimed as Heeseung stood up quickly and picked Areum up and spun her around.

"But!" She yelled making Heeseung pause. "I will FULLY accept if you go with me to the father-daughter dance with me." She said, still in Heeseung's arm with her arms crossed.

"I would not want anything more than go to the dance with you, sweetheart." He said, hearts coming out of his eyes.

Areum grinned and hugged his neck tightly.

You can feel tears prickling in your eye sockets, watching the beautiful moment between the most important two people in your life unfold.

"Mommy, join the group hug!" Areum exclaimed as Heeseung pulled you closer by your waist.

"I love you so much, my love." He whispered and kissed your lips gently.

"Ewww, not infront of me!" Areum said, covering her eyes making you and Heeseung crack up.

Do not copy this post. Spam likes = blocked. Spaming and plagiarism are not tolerated. Respectfully follow these rules :)

[itsa-me-lily]

Soooooo....This was not how I originally planned on how y'all shared a bed for the first time...buuuuuuuuuuuuuut this is what you got. I tried some stuff, I think they worked but not 100% sure. Honestly I could way to post this in the morning and give it another look over, but I really don't want to wait that long, and I'm worried I'll over think it.

As always here's the list for the rest of Military Program Spouse

Content warning; Death, violence, nightmare, kind of very vague description of panicking? Let me know if I miss anything

The first time the two of you actually share a bed, only one of you is sleeping. It's been nearly six months since you both signed your marriage license. And even though the time spent together under the same roof can probably only add up to a couple months, it hasn't been terrible.

Sure there's the period of growing pains, learning to co-exist with another human being when you're so used to being alone. Petty arguments and even pettier revenges. Hell you even had to go and explain your sex life, or lack there of, to the entirety of Simon's team. But even with the ups and downs, it hasn't not been worth it.

The night you share a bed, Simon has been back from a mission for a week now. It wasn't good. Really none of them are actually good, just varying degrees of what can be shoved down and ignored. Hostages were involved, a fire fight broke out. Their rescue mission became a recovery one.

Death wasn't something new to any of them. It clung to their skin. Ghost practically exuded it. He was the omen of the end to everyone who stood against him. At times he was judge, jury, and especially executioner. Ghost was a walking death. But there was something that knocked him off kilter, once the shooting had stopped and the team started the futile task of checking for survivors.

The woman looked nothing like you, really there wasn't anything similar and yet it was her eyes. Once Ghost caught sight of her eyes Simon felt something rattle in his chest. For some reason her eyes reminded Simon of yours. Only hers were dull now, lacking any spark that showed a hint of life. Simon stared for a second too long before crouching down to gently close her eyes. Ghost stood back up to continue checking. He didn't look at any other eyes.

When he came back, Simon wouldn't really look at you. His eyes would flicker to your face for a millisecond at a time, to show he was listening as much as he could, but for the most part it felt like he was trying to burn a hole into your left ear.

You just figure that he's being...well, Simon. Sometimes he went from not making a lot of eye contact to staring into the depth of your soul to make you confess every sin you even thought of committing. Just something that made him...him.

He was grateful you didn't push. He couldn't explain why he dreaded the idea of looking into your eyes. Well he could guess a theory or two, but that would mean admitting that maybe, maybe you meant a sliver of something. It all came to a head though with the nightmare.

Ghost was back in the firefight, ears ringing from the number of shots being fired and screaming being torn from people's throat. It felt like it would be unending, a vortex of sound and violence that would swallow him whole. Until it didn't. Until it suddenly became so quiet he could hear his heart and breathing.

Only...it wasn't his breathing.

His breaths weren't uneven struggles that had that wet struggling sound.

Ghost wasn't in control of his feet as he started moving forward, or when he stopped.

Ghost wasn't in control of his neck as he started to look down at what was making that struggling wet sound.

Ghost couldn't make himself stop from looking at you laying on the ground, chest making sad futile efforts to keep pulling in breath to keep you alive. Until it didn't

Ghost couldn't avert his eyes when they met yours; cold, empty, and dead.

Simon woke up choking on a gasp, fingers clutching the handmade blankets as if each stitch could shield him from the horrors his mind made him live through. He couldn't see the ceiling for minutes at least, unable to get his bearing as to where he was.

Slowly he could though. He came back to himself and to the four walls around him. To the dresser that housed your clothes and the weird little knick knacks you insisted on collecting. He felt the weight of the blankets on top of him and how they pushed him into the bed.

He came back to himself, in his bedroom, alone.

He had to remind himself that you were real, that he had just been talked at by you this afternoon. You were just in the living room. Too far away.

He probably shouldn't have done it, should have just flicked a light on, or tried to go back to sleep, but Simon had the clawing need to see you. So he got up quietly, used his stealth to make it the living room where the weak barely there rays of early morning were starting to lighten the room.

His mind couldn't hold onto any thought besides just looking at you. Sprawled out on the right side of the pull out, face half buried as you laid on your front, leg hiked up as if you were attempting a very poor man's army crawl. There was just enough space for him to sit along the head of the bed with you, and the fact he did so without waking you up was impressive. Or you were just that deep of a sleeper.

You didn't even seem to notice how intensely Simon stared at you. It was as if he was trying to commit to memory the way your eye lashes rested against your cheek, or how the way you were resting your head caused your lips to just barely pout. It should have been obvious that seeing you drool in your sleep would force him to cheer up, just a little bit. He counted the number of times your back moved with your breathing, until the number was high enough that it started to push away the idea that it would stop.

Simon spent hours just watching you. Letting the sounds of your gentle snoring and mumblings wash over him. For a second he debated seeing if he could get you to argue with him in your sleep...though...maybe he'd try that a different night.

And when the actual morning came to greet you both, Simon took extra care to watch as your eyes fluttered open. He took in the sleepy way you took in the world, eyes hazy but warm and alive.

[niiennieshi]

Neuvillette x Reader

The Chief Justice's Wife <3

★masterlist★

-> You offer to give your husband a relaxing massage. However, it turns you on but unfortunately, since you didn't want to bother Neuvillette during his work, you slipped away. That's when you make an annoying encounter, one that Neuvillette will deal with for you, as the caring and protective husband he is <3

No warnings, pure fluff but some sexual stuff implied at the end.

❤︎ Enjoy your reading! ❤︎

Sitting right on the lap of the Chief of Justice while he was working in the middle of the day in his office, you soon started to get bored. Well, bored to death, to be more precise. To tell the truth, the only thing he did --besides working-- was giving you soft kisses on your neck from time to time and caressing your waist thoroughly with his calloused and warm hand. Of course, that wasn't to displease you but it's not like it kept you entertained. And as you felt what was like his twentieth kiss, you wondered if you could do something for your lover. After all, you may be bored but at least you weren't working like Neuvillette. And if doing something for him meant that you wouldn't be bored anymore and please your husband, there wasn't any reason you wouldn't do it.

Since early this morning, your husband has been analysing multiple judiciary cases you wouldn't know a thing about. Can you imagine how tired he must be?

Fortunately, he's lucky to have such a caring wife as you are.

You got up from his lap, making him finally lift his eyes from all the papers displayed on his desk, going right behind him. "Would Monsieur Neuvillette let his dear wife give him a massage on those broad but oh so sore shoulders of his?" You suggested, placing your delicate hands on the place you promised to massage, giving his cheek a sweet kiss. "How could I say no to such a nice service offered by my wife herself?" He replied, instantly humming when he felt your soft hands, he much adored, working magic on his sore shoulders of a judge. Giggling a little, you kept massaging him, enjoying the feeling of his muscles against your more fragile hands.

Would it be humiliating if he knew that the more you felt his muscles and the more you started to get just a tiny bit aroused? There's no need to tell him though... I mean, touching a man's muscles, Neuvillette's muscles at that, was somehow enough to arouse you. Seeing his broad back and large shoulders makes you feel so vulnerable and tiny. And even more when he'd stand in front or behind you. You feel like he could do whatever he wants to you, that you just couldn't resist, physically speaking. First of all, he's a man. Compared to women, they just have so much more strength that it's terrifying. And it's not like Neuvillette is skinny or just toned, he's a well built and strong man. Fortunately, this fact does not scare you. On the contrary, with Neuvillette, you feel so safe thanks to his huge body, loving above all how he manhandles you so easily thanks to all the strength he's got.

Like those times in bed where he just throws you on the bed without any difficulty and- "Dear? Are you okay?" Neuvillette snaps you out of your lewd reverie, taking a hand of yours in his. "Oh hum, yes, why?" You ask, a little confused. "You stopped massaging me and I called your name but you didn't answer me. Is everything truly alright?" Oh, if only he knew. Did you lose yourself that much in your thoughts for you to not hear him call you until he took your hand? "Don't worry, hum... I was just lost in my thoughts..." You wanted to pick up where you left off, except, your lover is now standing in front of your little figure, his worried pupils looking down at yours whilst a strong hand comes rest en your cheek. "Darling, are you being honest with me? You should know that I know you by heart, my love." Seeing that look of his makes you feel a little guilty for interrupting him, when you were actually just fantasizing about his muscles and strength. But it's not like you were going to tell him, what would you look like? Well, you'd look exactly like a starving woman for her man. That wouldn't displease Neuvillette at all, but you fear that it could (it would) distract him from his work, meaning that he would end up leaving from work later than usual. Why? Well, he'd slam you straight on his desk and take good care of making your fantasies come true. "I know but really, there is nothing to worry about." You give him a sweet and reassuring smile. "How about I get you some coffee?" Neuvillette doesn't have the time to say a thing that you give him a soft quick kiss on your tiptoes and leave his office to go fetch him a drink.

That's for the best. At least, with Neuvillette not being around you anymore you don't take the risk to jump on him or bother him, thus distracting him from his duty as the Chief of Justice. It's a relief that you already calmed down and killed your appetite for you husband, now that there are a lot of people around you such as guards, other employees, janitors and so on. It isn't only your lover and you anymore.

Even though it's not the first time you visit Neuvillette here, since he was always by your side, you didn't really bother to remember what was where as he already did that for you. When you're in his company, all your attention goes to him, trusting your man with the rest, knowing he'd always be there for you. However, this time you are all alone and can't really remember where the cafeteria is. Naturally, you decide to ask someone who works here. That's where you spot a young man not that far from you. Compared to others, he didn't seem busy or whatever since he was just being on his phone, perhaps texting someone. That's great because otherwise you'd feel bad to disturb someone for such a trivial thing when you're not even actually supposed to be here. Gently tapping on his shoulder from with your finger, he first only turns his head with a confused look, but as he lowers his gaze on your figure, a smile draws itself on his face and he turns around completely. "Excuse me, I'm looking for the cafeteria, do you know where it is?" You asked gently with a polite smile. "Oh, sure, Iet me show you." He replied. "Oh you don't have to, you can just tell me the direction, I wouldn't bother you for that." You said gently. "Don't worry beautiful, I wasn't that busy, and I can always make some time for girls like you." The young man ended his sentence by a seductive wink. "Oh hum... Well, if you insist, thank you." You replied again with a polite smile, not giving too much thought to his flirting. Neuvillette surely wouldn't like that, but it's just a matter of a few minutes. Plus, you wouldn't want to bother someone who's really busy.

Walking side by side, you stay at a correct distance between strangers. However, it seems like someone else can't, or doesn' want to actually respect that. "By the way, what's your name, beautiful?" He asked, reducing the distance between the both of you little by little. As if you wouldn't notice. "I'm (y/n), so I'd appreciate if you could stop calling me beautiful, please." With an awkward smile, you distance yourself a bit more. But something you didn't expect, is his very hand coming rest on your shoulder and drag you closer to him. "Oh come on, I can assure you, you really are beautiful." His chuckle disgusted you. He's one of those men who don't respect boundaries or allow themselves to touch you. Nothing like your man, Neuvillette.

Immediately removing his hand, you contest. "That's not what I meant. I'm taken, so please stop with your flirting." When you lift your gaze, you notice that you've arrived at the cafeteria. "And where's the problem? Aren't we supposed to have fun in this life?" Oh right, he's still here. "You can have some fun with someone else, not me. Anyways, thank you, I should remember the way back." Turning around, he's finally gone from your sight. And what's even better than a cafeteria with no queue? "I'd like a black coffee without sugar, please." You request.

"How old are you to drink that, pretty?" The voice coming from your right, you're met with the man you thought you had left behind right when you turn your head. "I thought I told you to quit calling me that." Argh, he's persistent. "And I did. I called you pretty this time, not beautiful." Aaaand he laughs as if that was actually funny. "Anyway, don't you have some work to go back to? I've already thanked you for showing me the cafeteria." You say before you go sit on an empty chair at a table. "You could thank me by allowing me to keep you company, doesn't that sound nice? How come such a pretty lady like you is alone though?" He says, dragging a chair from another table to place it in front of your table, sitting on it. "I am not, my husband works here." You say, while texting your husband that you'll be back soon. "Oh wow, you're married at that? 'Makes things even more interesting~"

You sigh, you're just tired now. Thankfully, your phone almost immediately buzzes, distracting you from the annoying man in front of you. A smile spreads your cheeks sweetly when you read his text. "Thank you, but come back to me quick, my darling." Sigh, nothing like that guy. However, someone had to ruin that. "Is he that great in bed, really?" You sigh again, glaring at him. "More than you could ever be, if you ever are, that is." Putting your phone back in your purse, you stand up when you notice that your order is now ready.

"Ouch, that's mean, my lady!" For the nth time, you sigh. "'Don't care." You simply answer, dropping formalities. "Do you really plan to follow me everywhere? Now that really is bothering me, just leave me alone." You add, your steps quickening. Unfortunately, he catches up to you. "How could I leave such a gracious flower as you? 'Can't leave before I'm given a chance." You take your phone out to text Neuvillette again. "I already told you I'm married to someone. Just leave me alone now." You repeat yourself, without success.

Suddenly, you see yourself being caged between a wall and him, a few steps away from Neuvillette's office. "H-hey! What are you doin-" He doesn't let you finish, taking your chin in between his fingers. "That man really is lucky to have a girl like you, I'm jealous." You wanted to push him away, but since you have your lover's coffee in hand, you had to be cautious if you didn't want to spill it everywhere. "Back off!" You say as you try tu push him away with one hand only.

But like I said, men are just stronger. This man's strength is scary, but your man's is comforting. That's where all the difference lies.

"Calm down a little, beauty, I just want a taste." Any abrupt move could spill the coffe, and besides, you didn't want to make a scene or whatever by pouring it everywhere. (This is just a fiction but in real life, just make a scene ladies, pour the coffe on his face and beat that man's ass first before worrying about the rest. Stay safe<3) He slowly starts to lean in for a kiss. And that's it, you scream. "Neuvilleette!!" The man is surprised when he hears the name you call out. "W-wait what? That Neuvillette??" He looks at you with wide eyes, slowly starting to realize who's wife he messed up with. And before he does realize it, his shirt is being pulled on by your husband, who throws him effortlessly on the ground.

He. Looks. Furious.

He. IS. Furious.

The gaze that Neuvillette holds is darker than the deepest parts of the ocean. His jaw is clenched and his expression is firm. His brows slightly furrowed and his fists are solidly tight. "State the reason your filthy hands were on my wife. Now." He commands as you come by his side and take his arm, putting it close against your chest, now reassured by his presence that brings you a sense of security. "M-Monsieur Neuvillette?? I- I didn't know she was your wife! I promise!" Neuvillette, as the Chief of Justice, is a cold blooded person. However, with those narrowed eyebrows and terrifying dark gaze, everyone would think he was ready to kill the man who touched you, his wife, right here and now, totally forgetting about his position.

The guy was already shaking trying to protect himself with his arms above his head, ready to receive Neuvillette's fierce blows. Although you'd have loved to see him getting punched at least once, you couldn't let your husband hit him and risk to cause a scandal. How would the people of Fontaine react if their very Chief of Justice acted the way he was going to? "Love please, calm down. Just sue him for sexual harassment. You already scared him enough like that, I don't think he'd try this again." You assured, offering him your best fake smile while pulling gently on his arm. "How cute. But sweetheart, it still doesn't change the fact that he touched you, and I can't let that slide." He started approaching his trembling figure again and this time, you pulled his arm more firmly to try to stop him. But he just is so much stronger than you. "Neuvillette, you are the Iudex! How would your people think of you? Someone could even replace you!" The scumbag can't even get up from the floor, he really just is shaking like a leaf at the sight of your husband. "Sh-she's right!! I- I won't do it again! Ever! Please just sue me! Spare me, monsieur Neuvillette the Chief of Justice, the Iudex!!" Honestly, you can't help but let out a chuckle, even he is asking to get sued. How pitiful. "Neuvi, I have an idea." You say, stepping in front of your husband, handing him his coffee. He looks down at you with a confused look, but accepts to listen to you, and you only. "Since you can't really hit him due to your status, let me do it for you! We could simply determine it as an act of self-defence. Plus, there's no one around us, and you certainly wouldn't go against me, would you?" You say, sliding slowly your hand on his hard chest. "I-" He clears his throat. "I suppose it could work, yes. Then, let your blows be mighty, my love." You let escape a chuckle and peck his cheek, totally ignoring the guy on the floor this whole time. To tell the truth, you didn't plan to actually hit him, it was mainly to prevent Neuvillette from losing his position.

Kneeling in front of him, you simply start by talking. "Am I still as beautiful as you were saying, non-stop?" You asked, now smiling genuinely. You wanted to put him in trouble. To scare him enough that he wouldn't try it anymore with any woman. He immediately glanced at the Iudex, who's anger only grew. "Th-that's not true! I never s-said that!!" At that, Neuvillette's cane met the floor with a loud sound. "Are you implying that my wife is a liar?" He asked with a tone filled with authority. "N-no! Absolutely not! I wouldn't dare!!" You laugh a little again, pleased with the sight of him regretting what he did to you. Leaning closer to him, you let him believe that you'll be more gentle than Neuvillette, only to give him a good and nice slap on the face. "That's for touching me." You slap him again, on the other side. "And that's for ruining my lovely day with my husband." His face is now printed with the mark of both of your hands, and your soul is now lighter. "If I ever catch you acting the way you did again in my workplace, I won't be as lenient. Mark my words." Added Neuvillette, to conclude this matter. "Yes!! Of course, monsieur Neuvillette!! You won't ever hear of me again!!" And just like this, he gets up and trips right there and then before getting up again and running away.

Back in his office, he is now seating in the couch, your hands in his, while you stand between his legs. "Was what I saw the only things he did to you? Or was there more to that?" He started. There was indeed more but.. Is it necessary to tell him? I mean, it's now in the past and you had already dealt with him so... It would only make your lover angrier, at that. "He didn't do anyth-" Oops, he knows you far too well. "Don't lie, my love." He says, softly. You lower your head, defeated. "Okay, I'm sorry... At first, he was only flirty, complimenting me here and there but then, he took me by my shoulder, he sat with me at the cafeteria and then... you saw what happened, and what could have happened if it wasn't for you..." Whilst listening to what that bastard dared to do to you, his wife, he tightened his hands a little bit around yours, however not enough to hurt you. After all, he would never. Neuvillette sighs, looking away from you with an upset look, before he pulls on your hands and makes you fall into his warm embrace. "Didn't you inform him that you already belong to another man?" Your arms wrap by themselves around his neck, his being around your waist. "I did, but... He said that it only made things more interesting." Neuvillette's grip only tightens, his possessiveness expressing itself by a sudden hot kiss in your neck. "Neuvi-" The Chief of Justice's teeth plant themselves on your neck, claiming you as a whole. Soon after, his warm tongue slide against your soft skin before kissing, sucking, and biting it again. "Mmh..." You only let gasps and sounds of pleasure which go right into your dear strong man's pointy ears. Your fingers pull slightly on the roots of his shiny silver hair, resulting in grunts on his part. Neuvillette's soft lips capture yours il a loving kiss filled with burning desire, not allowing you a single moment, a second, to breathe. Fervorous kisses attack your poor mouth, trying to catch up with his rhythm but you can't. He is devouring his smaller wife's mouth as a starving husband. "Mmh- Neuvi, wait-" Nothing to do. As you try to speak against his hot lips, a huge hand of his draws her path to your butt, grabbing a handful of your right cheek. His other hand? He slides it on the small of your back to shift you in a laying position on the couch.

That day, everyone who walked by your husband's office knew who you were to him..

[rita-repulsa-ke]

Ritual of the Rose - Ch 3

"That form you're wearing is a corpse. It should have been in the ground years ago," Rio hissed, and as she said it, her voice a cold mist over his skin, Billy could feel decay setting in, his fingernails loose and prone to falling away, his skin slack on bones, his heart no longer beating in his chest—

Fic Summary: Changes the events of the last episode. Instead, Agatha swears a vow and prepares to go on one final adventure with Death.

For some reason, Billy has decided he's a protagonist as well.

Part 1 Part 2

Chapter 3 - Who is Billy Maximoff?

William Kaplan was a murderer.

No. William Kaplan was dead. He'd died in a carwreck with his parents and someone else had co-opted his body.

That wasn’t his fault! William was already dead and he was dying too, so he'd grabbed on to what he could, like some kind of weird, body-snatching parasite. Only he hadn't gotten just a host, he'd also gotten a life, someone else's life, someone else’s parents, who were currently downstairs thinking loud, worried thoughts about what was going on with their son.

Drugs? Online bullying, maybe? He was so into that weird occult stuff, should they have put a stop to that sooner?

No, he was a good boy. Reliable, kind, got good grades, had never done anything seriously wrong. They should trust him.

And here it was, he braced for it every time, and it still hurt.

It's only, he changed so much after the accident.

I'm sorry, he wanted to tell them. I'm so, so, so sorry, I'm not your son, I'm the leech that took his body. You guys are great parents, and you're my parents, you're the only parents I've ever known, please don't hate me for not being him.

He couldn't tell them that, though. He couldn't tell them their son had died years ago and now there was only him, Billy Maximoff, murderer.

He couldn't tell them the murder part either, couldn't sit downstairs on the couch and sob and let them hug him and tell him it would get better, like they had the first time he'd gotten his heart broken or a bad grade or a mean comment on his Instagram. He couldn't even let them be his parents right now, because there was no way he could confess that he'd killed three women on a Road he created with his mind.

Agatha said she would have killed all of them. And she had, in the most literal sense, killed Alice. Still, it had been his idea to form a coven in the first place, his idea to lure victims to her, even if he hadn't known what he was doing.

He should hate her, but he was too busy hating himself.

He uncurled his hand, locked in a fist since the fight in Agatha's garden. Took out the crumpled piece of stationary and smoothed it out. Noted with mild amusement that it seemed to have silly cartoon cats around the edge of the page. He couldn't imagine anything less Agatha, so probably this had belonged Agnes prior to her time as a hardboiled detective.

Agnes, a woman who'd been kept that way by his ostensible mother, who'd also trapped and tortured a whole town.

Boys, thanks for choosing me to be your mom.

"William! Do you want some dinner?"

He jumped and his hand clamped tight around the stationary again. That was his mother, he reminded himself, the one calling to him with concern in her voice. "No," he said. "I'm not very hungry right now."

"This is why you're such a beanpole!" His dad called, trying for jovial.

"I'm watching my figure," he retorted on automatic, smoothing the paper once more and looking at the address.

An apartment in New York City. No other information, except the hastily scrawled number on the bottom.

He wasn't going to call. He didn't need Agatha's help anymore. He had never needed her help, probably—except for the part where he had and he still didn't know if he was murderer a fourth time over for that, if he'd killed the boy he'd helped put Tommy in.

But that part was done and he didn’t even really regret it. The Road had made his wish come true. Now he needed to find his brother. Tommy, at least, wouldn't go through what he had, waking up with no memory and no understanding of what had happened to him.

Agatha had to told him to go alone. He could do this. He'd made a whole (deadly) reality. He could handle one mysterious stranger.

Resolute, he turned to go and almost screamed, clapped his hands over his mouth to stop the sound at the last moment so he didn't get his parent's attention.

He really didn't want them to come up here, because standing too close, smiling like an open wound, was Rio.

"You know, I think she forgets I can do this?" the woman said. She was wearing her green witch outfit, skintight and kind of cool in a scary way, but all Billy could remember was staring into the skeletal face of Death. "Be everywhere at once, I mean." Then she lunged suddenly, closing the gap between them until their noses almost brushed. "Boo!"

He jumped back and hit his dresser, gave a short, unmanly shriek and she burst into cackles of laughter so loud he worried his parents were about to come rushing up the stairs.

"W-what do you want? Are you here to—" he said, swallowed and didn't finish the sentence, his eyes on the blade in her hand, even though he knew she wasn't going to literally stab him to death.

Well, he really hoped she wasn't going to stab him to death.

"Take you? I should, you know. This…" she shook her head, back and forth, and each time it turned too far, creating the unnerving illusion her head was going to start spinning around like a bad horror movie effect. "This is so wrong, what you're doing here. You're the wrong soul in the wrong body. Very, very gross. But no, not right now, I'm busy letting Agatha drag me along like she always does. Do you know she's really bossy?"

"I know," Billy said, unsure if they were bonding here.

"Right, I bet you do. That whole Road business." She paused, twirled her knife, paced in a circle around his room and watching her now, he couldn't imagine how he'd ever thought she was a normal person, even a normal witch. She moved like a tiger penned into a cage, as though the form she wore didn't quite contain the edges of her, a non-Euclidean—

"She likes you, you know," Rio said, interrupting his mind's desperate attempt to comprehend what was right in front of him. "Agatha, I mean."

"Can she? Like people?" Billy said, which prompted a shorter, sharper cackle.

"I ask myself that All. The. Time," Rio said, sprawling back on his bed and kicking her feet, impatient, restless, almost human except for all the ways she wasn’t. "But apparently she's got a soft spot for little boys."

It took Billy a moment to correctly interpret that statement. "Because of her son."

Rio gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Probably. So maybe I can help."

"What?!"

"You," she pointed her knife at him. "Maybe I can help you."

"With what?"

She wrinkled her nose, jerked the knife up and down to indicate all of him. "Your…condition."

"…And that help isn't killing me?"

"Right," Rio said. "But it would involve you vacating that bod—"

"No!" Billy snapped, his arms wrapping tight around himself, as though he could keep his body held in place.

"That form you're wearing is a corpse. It should have been in the ground years ago," Rio hissed, and as she said it, her voice a cold mist over his skin, Billy could feel decay setting in, his fingernails loose and prone to falling away, his skin slack on bones, his heart no longer beating in his chest

"Stop!" His magic flared and on instinct, he grabbed for her mind, like he'd done to Jen and Lilia and for a brief, overwhelming moment, he was Death, standing side-by-side with a winged shadow bigger than he could grasp and he was—

He was everywhere. He was vast, all-consuming, but deeply personal at the same time.

He stood at a hospital bed, listening to the monitors make a sound he'd only heard in movies. Flatline. "…Sorry," he said to the woman standing in front of him, looking much healthier and more alive than what lay in the bed.

"Damn," the woman said. "I'd really hoped I'd get a bit longer."

"Everyone does," he said, or rather, something else said, speaking through him like he were a ventriloquist's dummy. "How was what you had?"

He barely heard the answer. There were simply too many, all competing for his attention. An undiscovered allergy. A stupid bet about who could drink the most. A car wreck. A heart attack. Kidney failure. Aneurysm.

And then he was scooped up, deposited back into his body on a wave of green magic, and for a moment, he could see himself as she did, an abomination, an outright defiance of the natural order—

"I'm not doing that to them!"

He snapped back to himself, fully himself, no trace of lingering Death. Rio was still on his bed, looking up at him with narrowed eyes, her mouth firmed into a thin, sharp line. "…You are powerful. And dangerous. I can't believe Ags didn't drain you dry. Them who?"

He collapsed onto the floor, pulled his knees to his chest. "My paren—"

"William? Are you okay?" A familiar voice called up the stairs.

"Yes! Everything's fine, mom."

"Their son is dead," Rio pointed out and Billy glared what he hoped were daggers at her, feeling the urge to use his power boil up again, magic dancing across his fingertips. He forced himself to wrestle it back. He didn't know if he would ever sort out everything he'd seen in the few seconds he'd been Death. He was certain he didn't want another go-round and he'd seen how ineffective Agatha had been at fighting her with direct magic, something he didn't even know how to use.

"I'm their son! And I'm not going to let you kill me,” he said, very aware that he had no way of preventing her from doing whatever she wanted.

Rio tossed her head back and cackled, shrieked, and his parents must not have been able to hear her at all, because she was really loud. "You can't stop me. Even Ags can't stop me and she knows that, though she hates it." Something in her expression went distant, sad like mourners at a funeral. "...She knows that,” she repeated and Billy opened his mouth to ask, but Death spoke first. "But fine, have it your way, keep this disgusting charade up a little while longer. Eventually I'll come and collect. I always do. I am the end of all things, baby!" She sprung to her feet, spread her hands too wide and gave him a toothy smile. "Sooner or later, everything is mine."

"…I can see why you and Agatha might have worked once. She's really dramatic too," he said, which got him another cackling laugh as response.

"She is. I've got nothing on Agatha Harkness," Rio agreed, cloying affection lacing her voice.

"…creep," he muttered.

Rio only snickered. "You'll understand one day, when you fall in love," she told him.

"I am in love! I just have a healthy relationship, thank you.”

"Someday, you will meet someone who takes part of you away with them, and you never, ever get it back," Rio said, somehow managing to sound genuinely adoring as she said it. "And then you'll know what love is."

"…I think you should look into counseling."

"Tell your father to get his heart checked," Death replied and then, before he'd even processed the words, she was gone.

“...Thank you?" he whispered to thin air, then staggered to his feet, suddenly desperate for his parent’s company even if he couldn’t tell them a single true thing about his life.

"Hey, dad," he said as he came down the stairs. "I'm going to ask you to do something really weird…"

For more of Rio being everywhere at once, try Death and the Scarlet Witch. Or for something cuter, try the witch who cried wolf.

[johanna-swann]

The annoying thing about the break up is that it would have made so much more sense if they'd had Tommy break it off because of any of the multiple things Buck says in that conversation that are kind of weird. The vibe that Buck also kind of wants to be Tommy, which isn't helped by him replacing Tommy twice over. The fact that it's been six months of Tommy apparently being open about the kind of work he had to do on himself to get to this point but Buck still hasn't really taken Tommy off the pedestal. Asking someone who probably has a house to move in to a loft. Springing a mention of a possible future marriage on him when it doesn't seem like it's come up before. The writing in this episode was so bad but they still managed to unintentionally give Tommy actual reasons to decide he was done.

I'm not sure what Buck "replacing Tommy" is referring to here, but a lot of the other stuff I agree with. Even upon first glance that break-up made so little sense to me that I immediately jumped to the conclusion that this was merely one of the "hurdles" we were promised and they'd get back together in season 8b.

It was always a possibility that Tommy wouldn't be Buck's "forever love", but the way they broke up was... strange, to say the least.

First of all the Abby thing makes zero sense. It doesn't fit with the way Abby talked about her ex. Even if she didn't want to talk to Buck about being engaged before, she would've at least mentioned to Carla that the terrible break-up she had to relive over and over again came from her fiancé, not just a boyfriend. It doesn't make sense that Tommy never mentioned her to the 118 either. She was basically his beard, right? Isn't the point of those relationships that you can pretend to be straight in front of others? And then Tommy actively hid his relationship with her instead?

This only served as a conversation starter though, it wasn't the reason they broke up. In his conversation with Josh Buck didn't feel comfortable using the l-word, but he did admit seeing and wanting a future with Tommy. Which he later also said to Tommy himself.

Then the very moment Buck said the words "move in" I immediately went "not a-fucking-gain!!" Because this rushed, overcorrecting clinging - throwing ideas of marriage and so on around without even having exchanged "I love you"s yet - is such a Buck 2.0 thing to do. He didn't even take into consideration that Tommy lives in an entire ass house. You promised us Buck would get off the Hamster wheel Tim! He has been more grounded than I've ever seen him in a relationship, but then suddenly, nope. Character growth who?

And lastly Tommy's answer. Maybe he just got cold feet, but. Why did he even give Buck a second chance in the first place when he already thought this wasn't going to go anywhere. If he thought what Buck needed were more casual queer experiences, then why did he stay with Buck for six months? And if he liked Buck enough to be afraid of getting his heart broken, wouldn't he have left that relationship earlier?

I mean. They ended up breaking things off over liking each other too much, essentially. Find the sense in that.

And maybe while Tommy was too pessimistic and scared, Buck was still viewing the relationship too much through rose-tinted glasses. But that's when you say: "Hey, we kind of want the same thing here, but I think we still have a lot to talk about and to figure out about each other. Maybe let's just date a little longer and come back to this conversation in two or three months."

(Though I think Tommy struggling and working on himself is one of the very things Buck so admires about him. It's not that Buck is (love-) blind to this information, it's part of what makes Tommy's confidence so attractive to Buck.)

[terminalblue]

Time for some theorycrafting about Draag.

Hello. Hi. It seems we're in the MCR cycle of cryptic messages leading up to Something Big, so this period of time wouldn't be complete without some outlandish and far-too-long theories from music-starved fans. We all know by now that they're going on tour in America, a complete surpise to many in how they're "digging up" The Black Parade 17 years after loudly proclaiming that it was Dead. What are they doing? Are they becoming a Greatest Hits band? Is creativity dead. No, not at all my friends. Rather the opposite. This is all just part of a grander plan. And when I mean all, I mean all. Everything going back even possibly to the occult/witch era where the reunion was first announced.

Let's first consider the most recent announcement, the tour, and the trailers coming out for it. The sheer level of lore that got dropped out of absolutely nowhere. A whole world being opened up in front of us with the nation of Draag. An industrial nation led by one 'Immortal Dictator' seventeen years after the Black Parade was 'sent to the MOAT', whatever that means, I still have no idea. But what is abundantly clear is that this specific backdrop to present the tour in is explicitly a sequel to the story of The Black Parade, not an AU, not a prequel, not an afterword, all that stuff. A sequel. A paper-white fascist kingdom reinstating a beloved old band to perform on behalf of the state.

How did this dictator rise to power? Usually such things happen during times of great peril and uncertainty for a country, searching for a strong and charismatic figure to lead them through the worst times. An event that led to The Swarm, perhaps? Flies are typically related to death and disease, and what happens in the world that causes such widespread death and disease if not war?

Now The Black Parade, the album, is on it's surface a story about the death of a cancer patient, but there are many, many overt references to war all throughout the album. Much of the aesthetic of the album reflects these time periods, The Civil War, WW1, and WW2. Now those last two can be valid perspectives going forwards, but I'm going to focus on the latter date of 1945, the end of the Second World War. 17 years after that is the year 1962, famously the year of the Cuban Missile Crisis, the absolute height of the Cold War where the world was on the brink of destruction. Now this alt-history is likely not 1:1 and the dates might not line up exactly to what I've put, but what I'm saying is that I believe this is some sort of parallel to real life, with the Cold War having 'boiled over' into a Hot War, nuclear armaggedon ensuing.

Is The Swarm supposed to be literally, or metaphorically, nuclear extinction? Hard to say personally. But if we go by the established representation before, then it would actually fit better as a follow-up to such a thing, after the dust has settled. Because of their relation to death and disease, flies are also harbingers of evil. Going by the Merriam-Webster dictionary definition of 'Swarm', it is "a great number of honeybees emigrating together from a hive in company with a queen to start a new colony elsewhere". Sounds an awful lot like the start of a nation, huh? One that begins in the wake of worldly annhiliation?

The Swarm, in this sense, is this nation of Draag, or at least the ideology of it, a great many people falling in line with evil because the world is broken and that's the easiest solution. Let somebody else lead you, even if they have the worst intentions. One that people continue to have to resist the call for, wondering if falling in line is easier than fighting for what you believe in, even if it doesn't feel like it matters.

This is exactly what "The Foundations of Decay" is all about, the sheer ease that is giving up and not doing anything, yet it's a song that is kind of arguing with itself about doing what is easier vs what is right. Ending on a note of the main voice yelling at itself to get up, coward.

How does that fit into this new lore? Well, this time period is named 'The Concrete Age', and what is built from concrete? Well, a lot of things, but one of those things happens to be foundations, a lot of the time. I believe The Foundations of Decay is set after The Concrete Age, after Draag has fallen. It's an ending.

Because evil eats itself eventually, fascism is self-defeating. You could say, in a sense, that Draag is a Paper Kingdom. Grand and beautiful, but incredibly fragile. One spark is all it could take for it to all burn down, and really it's only a matter of time. Leaving nothing but Foundations of Decay. But what would exist in the settled dust is hope, perserverence, a chance to fix your heart, to let it all wash away, instead of simply laying down in the foundations. Don't repeat the mistakes of the past. MCR5, which I'm fairly certain is real at this point, may follow the Black Parade in documenting this nation. A beloved band rather abruptly reinstated by a fascist nation, that likely exiled/killed them in the first place, to twist its nostalgia into its own messages and propaganda. People were confused as to why MCR were announcing TBP in full again rather than something new, but that's the point. Because fascism is inherently unimaginative and anti-art. They can only steal from what has already been created and claim it as their own. TBP will play their great album to huge fanfare, before moving onto their 'second' album centered around the nation of Draag under orders of the Immortal Dictator.

But The Black Parade are a band that exist within death, taking souls through to the other side after ferrying them back through their lives. They themselves could be considered harbingers of death. So to me, it would make sense that this would be an album that follows the height and subsequent burning of Draag, as its image falls apart and collapses due to its own ignorance.

[quaranmine]

Re: your 2000 word fic

Jimmys relationship to the watchers is so interesting, especially compared to Martyn’s, because they’re in the same realm of thought with different means of approach (doubly if Martyn wasn’t born into the cult like Jimmy was).

Martyn’s realm of thought: God is real and hates me and I hate it back

Jimmy: God is real and everyone seems to hate that, and I’m not sure if I do

And like. Jimmy as a character is so [synonym of interesting] because he’s sort of a sheep. He has his own personality and opinions of course, but they are largely formed off of others and how they perceive him. Jimmy works well in group situations, but when he has to be alone, he flounders. So of COURSE when left in a high stress environment and isolated because of his red life, he’s gonna go back and try to find comfort in the gods that had a community. And Martyn, in turn, is going to see this and go “what the fuck are you doing, this isn’t good, the watchers are evil remember” to which Jimmy goes “they’re the only thing that loved me at face value”

Normal about this excited to see where this goes 👍

oh this ask is making me EXCITED again!

So, we're pretty close to the same page on this. Also this story is super duper AU to Evo. I'm keeping the same major story beats of things like 1) Martyn attempting to leave 2) the Listeners contacting them 3) the dragon fight & all of that 4) Jimmy being given a mission from the Listeners and 5) the Evolutionists leaving with the help of the Listeners. But the setting itself is very altered and the day-to-day life of the series is way different. (I.e. cult-commune.) It also won't be totally compliant with Martyn's eyesandears life series AU, just in the sense that I don't care enough to meticulously adhere to all the details. It'll just be kind of loosely influenced by all of the above.

You've also hit the same idea as me on Martyn not (fully) being raised in it. For what I wrote last night, Martyn was brought in to Evo with his family around age 12 ish, and allowed to continue outside education (Jimmy is very very homeschooled.) This basically means Martyn was old enough when introduced to the Watchers to not ever really be a true believer, and also a bit of a bad influence on Jimmy. Well, a good influence in this case. So Martyn definitely grows quite bitter about it as he gets older.

And in this case, when I say "true believer" I mostly mean that they believe in worshipping the Watchers and that they're a force for good. There isn't really much of a "are they real" for any of the Evolutionists because they demonstratively are. Now, for Life Series members who are not former Evolutionists, they may not realize Watchers exist at all. And for later in life, the Evolutionists may question if the Watchers are truthful in just how god-like they really are.

Anyway. Yeah Martyn's very much like "God is real and hates me and I hate it back."

Jimmy, at least in the backstory part I've written, is a lot more like "God is real and hates me because I'm a bad person, and I hate myself because I can't figure out how to be a good one." In this case, he feels super trapped in his incredibly sheltered life and questions a lot of stuff. But he knows he shouldn't question this. Doubting the Watchers is wrong. So he wants to be good. But he can't shake all of his, like, existential anxiety about being trapped. And then he hates himself more for that. He's kind of killing himself from the inside out with cognitive dissonance. He's finding it harder and harder every day to believe but he thinks that's his own personal shortcoming.

Martyn has kind of arrived at a "I need out because the Watchers suck." He has more anger about the situation and less self-hatred. Jimmy is not there yet and is instead more like "the Watchers are right and good and I'm the problem."

(This is also pretty in line with your comment of Jimmy being kind of a sheep--he is struggling much more than some of other former Evolutionists to put aside how he was raised.) (I haven't mentioned Grian much but I think he was also raised in it like Jimmy, but unlike Jimmy he's pretty defiant of the Watchers. Which gets him nothing good in the end.)

It doesn't help that being constantly literally watched is like psychological torture? No wonder the guy's mentally ill. Which I think feeds into the eyesandears concept of Watchers feeding on negative energy. Jimmy's general existential distress is like catnip to them.

And like, he DOES join the Listeners. They DO leave Evo. He does leave, and live normally. But that doesn't mean that he comes out of his choice to turn his back on the Watchers unscathed, and that he doesn't feel guilty. I think the "I'm the problem" mindset leaves him vulnerable to going back to worshipping the Watchers again later. He still carries this deep seated sense that they're right.

So when the Watchers strike back, and he's placed over and over in horrible circumstances like death games, at some point it's all got to snap right?

"they’re the only thing that loved me at face value” - it's completely untrue and exactly the type of thing he still believes. He's the one that left, after all.