#might fuck around and make this into a series

[valentine-cafe]

 ˖⁺. “ darling, can I be your favourite ? ” : 

﹙ brother's best friend!grim reaper x fem reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

 . . . verse 9948e jìngyí x fem reader !! 🍒 : ﹙  grim reaper ˖ himbo character﹚

your brother's best friend is such an idiot - yet for some reason you can't stop staring at his d-d-d- face!

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ brother's best friend trope ˖ size difference ˖ penetrative sex ˖ wet dreams ˖ caught masturbating ˖ rough sex ˖ dirty talk ˖  fingering ˖ risky sex ˖ face riding  | wc : 1.6k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: been wanting to write something like this for sooooo long <3 this will be a series

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who you view as just a silly himbo. You hear his loud laughing downstairs and cannot help but roll your eyes before you stuff your face back into your book. You watch how he steals your brother’s food and childishly insists it’s because he’s ‘growing.’ How he is so hellbent on that damn gym . . . why does he need any more muscle? He has plenty! You would know, you’ve stared at his arms, his toned v-line when he stretches, the way his body flexes subconsciously while he is doing everyday tasks.

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who is the height of irritation with how he jokes and pokes fun at you though. How he ruffles your hair up or snatches your phone and holds it over your head. He’s known you since all of you were kids, it’s his duty to bully you like a big brother would, he claims! You wanna throw something at him. A chair. Yourself.

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who you find to be so annoying, but is such a sweetheart around you! Always asks if you are doing alright, holds doors open and pulls out chairs for you. You snuck out to a party and didn’t want your brother to know and needed someone to come pick you up; Jìngyí was there. He carries the grocery bags for you if he catches you slaving your way along. He’s always there to offer you a lift. Everything. So why do you hate him so? It’s all playful, fun and games, it’s always been like that. Recently, you feel it becoming more genuine. Maybe it’s because. . .

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who has no idea that you have started dreaming about him. About those large, strong hands on your thighs. How they might squeeze and stretch you open. Just like how he’ll stretch you out on his cock. You know that he is big - you accidentally walked in on him changing. You wished your courage won and you threw yourself to his lap. But he’s so stupid! Would he even know how to please a girl?

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who caught you humping at your pillow. Ass flushed to your heels as you scrunch the sheets in front of you. The constant rock of your hips that gave him the perfect view of a wet patch forming on your panties. Were you grinding on a vibe? Seems like it. But what shot straight to his dick is the way you were moaning his name. Laced with cusses, pleads, ridicules. How dare he make you feel like this, how dare he make you want his cock soooo badly?

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who fucks you over that same pillow since you wanna whine so much. He spanks a broad hand on your thigh and yanks you back on every thrust. Watches how your flesh ripples as his cockhead bullies your cervix. He’s even bigger when he’s hard. Meaner too.

“Such a messy pussy you have here baby. She think of me a lot?”

Where’s the stupid, sweet boy you’ve known for years? Behind you. Hips grinding on your ass while his cock splits you open. A part of you wishes you could see how your gummy walls spasm and strain around the base of his dick, coated with a ring of cream at the base.

The vibrator has become his partner in crime. With the way Jìngyí weighs down on your poor, quivering body, your puffy clit humps against the pillow and pink vibe with every thrust. It makes your jaw drop as your drool coats the dark sheets that your fingers fist.

“J-Jìng - hhhh - J- pleeaaaa - hah!” You’d hate to say it, but you are being outmatched. Your pitiful cries are nothing in comparison to the wet squelches and slobbers of your fluttering cunt. She cries for him like he came back from war. Clings to him as though she wants to remember his shape for the rest of her life. And he sees that. He delights in it.

His voice, once hearty and light, now rumbles deep sins as he hunches over your prone position. “Sooooo wet for me. Yeah? Ah, so wet for your brother’s best friend? Yeah baby?” If anyone were to walk in, surely they wouldn’t see you at all. Only Jìngyí’s broad back and flexed arms. His hands cage your head and show the sheets on either side of your face no mercy either. The same way his balls smack against your swollen cunt like a punishment. A cum-filled reprimand.

“Y’know. . . I was beginning t’think youu hated me,”

He huffs out a laugh. Ragged. A groan quickly follows after and his hand retreats from the sheets to instead slam down on your jiggling thigh. Clap! It reaches under and grips onto your squished breast after. All the more leverage to fuck into you like an animal.

He sounds like one too. His heavy pants and deep grunts. “But thas’ not the - ah fucckk such a sweet pussy - not the case, huh? No. . .” His cold lips drag down the heat of your neck. Your scent is a drug he’s already hooked on. What more than to sink his teeth in?

“No. You ‘ere just - just pent up. Just cock hungry.” His chest crushes against your back. His thrusts shallow into messy, ruthless humps. Squeezing silky strings of cum and staining the sheets further. You’ll have to get ‘em all washed unless you want a cross-question from brother dearest.

“G-Gonna c- hic - gonna - Jìngyí - g-gonna ‘um-!”

“Y-You still remember how to?”

Damn him and his teases. Damn him and the way he’s made you dumb on his dick. You’re made acutely aware of just how strong he is. Guess those long-strung gym sessions count towards something.

Seems so with the way he flips you over like you weigh nothing. Brace your legs with his arms and shove them back. All the while his hips keep slamming against yours as though he’ll shatter if he stops. His filthy mouth sure as hell doesn’t stop either. Nice to see he still cannot shut up even when he’s ball’s deep inside of you.

He strikes you a grin. Maroon irises shrunk. He’s attacking your neck with kisses and making you see stars with every pummel of his cock. Every smear of his cum and yours all over your walls.

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who explains it’s because he was ashamed. He thought he overstepped. He didn’t want to hurt you! He loves you, loved feeling you all over his hands and body. Fuck, he’s still dreaming of it. “Please don’t be mad at me - I just - I just . . . want to make sure you okay,” he pouts.

Of course you cum again. He can’t expect you not to when he’s fucking your cunt into next week. This time you claw at his broad shoulders and wretch a sob. In turn he groans and stuffs you full. He simply has to plug you up while you’re squirting all over. With a small click of his tongue and a - “messy girl.”

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who distanced himself after that day. You couldn’t believe it. He pounded you raw and now left like you hadn’t cum on his dick ten times and over? You confront him on it. Bunch up his shirt and yank him down to give him a piece of your mind. He was many things but you didn’t know he was a dog - why is he looking at you with puppy eyes?

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who you ride the face of in the empty gym bathroom as compensation for jumping to conclusions. He was sooo grateful for the sweet taste of your pussy smearing all over his face. You quickly learn that his tongue is just as devious. It fucks up into you like it’s his damn life’s mission. His lips suck on your clit like candy. His eyes roll back as though the mere feel of you grinding down on his face is gonna make him bust then and there - ( it did )

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who has to contain himself whenever he visits your brother. He adores your brother to bits, he does, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell him that the real reason he is visiting is because of those pretty skirts and tight shorts you have suddenly, conveniently, started wearing around the house. He will tell you however. Grunt it in your ear as he gives you a quick fingering over the kitchen sink when he came to ‘help you with the dishes’ while your brother ventured off upstairs after dinner. He makes sure to tell you what a whore you are while his fingers are pumping you to shaky knees and cum on the kitchen floor.

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who knows it’s wrong. You’re his friend’s little sister! But he wants you so bad. Needs you even more. He’ll settle for your warm pussy and drooling cries for now; but he wants to take you out on a actual date soon. Maybe to eat. So that he can show you that he wants more than just the squeeze of you around his cock - but your heart as well.

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[davidisnotmyname]

MAJOR FUCKING SPOILERS FOR THE SEVENTH COMIC (also this post is really long be warned)

Okay I wanted to give my thoughts on the seventh comic because I, a sleep deprived teenager with absolutely no knowledge on comic making or writing, feel that my opinion is logical and good /s

First off, my immediate reactions to the comic:

OH MY FUCKING GOD THATS A CHILD. THATS SOLDIER’S AND ZHANNA’S CHILD. THATS THEIR BABY. WHAT THE FUCK

the second I saw this shit I knew this comic was gonna give me an aneurysm (in a good way).

waitasecond…

THERESTWOOFTHEMOHMYGOD (also im so fucking happy that the joke I see in fan media a lot about Soldier naming his kids stuff like that is officially canon)(also east meets west fans were eating good this comic)

I like that the comic creators have put so much focus on Spy and Miss Pauling’s relationship. Not only is their dynamic great, but it shows that Spy isn’t a heartless jackass and he not only genuinely cares about the people around him, but can and will show it (I mean most of us knew that already but… someeeee people have fallen victim to the temptations of flanderization)

you’re gonna see this come up a lot in my rambling but I fucking love the shit the mercs are doing in the background, their expressions are so funny: Heavy is sick of their shit

Demo is asleep

Scout can’t breathe

Spy is also sick of their shit

Medic (and that godforsaken baby baboon) is sightseeing

Pyro is having the time of their life

and Sniper and Pauling are just trying to make sure they don’t all fucking crash and die

This is irrelevant as fuck (but most of the stuff I say is) but I just wanted to bring up how much I liked the secretary’s design. It’s very pleasing to look at.

They are like ants to me. I want to put them in a jar with holes in the lid and a bunch of leaves and then roll them down the stairs

I know this might not be what the scene is trying to imply, but fuck yeah, lesbianism (also thank god they gave Scout some semblance of character development, they are very cute as friends)

more background mercs. Medic and Pyro in particular have me in hysterics (this comic has so much good shit I can use for my discord pfp). Also Demoman my belemoman

GOD I FUCKING LOVE THE CHARACTER DESIGNS SO MUCH, thank you young Administrator for reminding me that I am in fact gay in every direction. RIP Admin, she served cunt and died

Get that fucking thing away from me

MAKAMI!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!! THIS SHIT BELONGS IN THE LOUVRE!!!!!!! THIS IS GENUINELY THE MOST INCREDIBLE PANEL IN ALL OF THE COMICS, I AM AWESTRUCK

Yet again more background mercs. They saw your AO3 history.

okay I was gonna say something but my phone flagged this image as nudity for some fucking reason? What

anyways, as I was saying:

GAY (guys listen it’s canon okay you have to believe me guys wait come back no wait)

also my first thought when I saw this was “heavy is trying to hold him back from doing weird shit to the corpses,” and I don’t care how anyone else interprets it because I am objectively the most correct /j

also looking back at this I’m realizing heavy’s hands are almost the size of medic’s entire torso lmao tf2 isn’t beating the yaoi hand accusations

I’m actually gonna be sick and die oh my god what the fuck is wrong with me

I’m not gonna put all of the panels cuz I feel like it’ll get annoying quick + the image limit, but the whole series of Pauling just standing there as the Admin is cosplaying a Nature Valley Honey and Oats Bar while everyone slowly trickles out of the room just hits so hard and so good. These comics are such a compelling narrative disguised as a series of shitposts and I’m all for it.

MISS P. NAME DROP???!!!!! (Also can we get an F in the chat for all the Francine Pauling truthers)

He is literally her dad I don’t make the rules (also yes I’m aware that it’s stated that he’s her legal guardian literally two panels later so this joke really isn’t funny, but none of my jokes are so what’s your point)

Yet another casual masterpiece by Makami, with the added bonus of the subject being a beautiful hairy old man who’s built like a fucking brick house. Heavy Weapons Guy TF2 I wish you were real. Also bearded heavy goes hard, i need to cook him into a fucking soup oh my god

Hey chat so did you know I’m actually going to be inconsolable for the next three years. Also this is obviously photoshopped we all know his last name is Elbertson (no but seriously I actually started running around my room and rolling on the floor when I got to yet another name drop)

Okay, I need to either say this now or have it fester in my psyche for eternity. That haircut gave me physical and psychic damage when I first saw it. Scout tf2, you’re ugly as shit but that’s honestly poggers, welcome to the club man (also oh my god he looks so much like Jerma I’m screaming, but Jerma isn’t ugly though I promise I would never diss my king like that)

Nobody talk to me

I SAID NOBODY FUCKING TALK TO ME

spy with his granddaughter, he loves her so much but still can’t bring himself to reveal who he truly is. I actually can’t fucking do this anymore this comic is gonna have me keel over and die of a heart attack

That’s it. Get in the fucking wood chipper right now /j seriously though I can’t even begin to explain how much this scene means to me. Spydad was one of the main things that got me so interested in tf2 over a year ago, and seeing him and Scout not only being civil about it, but genuinely caring about each other is everything. I’ve never been one for spydad angst (no shade if you do like it, I just personally prefer happier stuff), so I’m glad that this was the route the comics took with that plot point.

also don’t think I’m not gonna bring up the fucking mask. after seventeen years, we finally have spy’s face. Not only that, but the reveal was done through him giving it to his granddaughter. It’s done in such a casual and sweet way but it’s so impactful. He can be vulnerable around these people. This man, who’s spent his life building up walls around himself, refusing to let anyone through to the point of wearing that stinky ass balaclava everywhere, can now freely live as himself with his son and grandchildren. I’m gonna start eating screws I swear to god.

oh fuck I hit image limit hang on I have a little bit more to say check the reblogs the rest of my descent into madness will be present there shortly.

[scrollonso]

I don’t know where to say this but I’m gonna say it here, but I’m already seeing a lot of racism and xenophobia towards Hadjar and it makes me really uncomfortable as an African because they do the same thing with Ocon (who is also algerian if you didn’t know) as well as other drivers of colour. I’m not even sure that people are aware that what they are saying about Hadjar, Ocon, Yuki, Bortoleto, etc, is racist, but it’s so crazy.

Hadjar and Yuki literally express themselves the same way that Max does but Max doesn’t face the racist comments that they face. Even when it comes to Ocon, I’m seeing so much racism being thrown at him due to him going to be Ollie Bearman’s teammate next year and idk, it bothers me a lot.

Next season, I just might come out of retirement from my keyboard warrior days lol, because I take racism and xenophobia very personally.

no anon you're so fucking right and it angers me to my CORE. im in a checo perez support gc on instagram and someone in there said isack acts like "a white boy pretending to be a stereotypical african american" and i felt so insane for being hurt by that.

isack is nothing but passionate and competative as well as a young man who isn't sure what or how to express himself in a new environment as he gets promoted quickly into other series and seeing someone who supports a poc driver turning around and berating another poc driver is so upsetting.

isack doesn't deserve any of the hate he gets and it boggles my fucking mind that people refuse to realize what their hate is based in (xenophobia and racism just like it is to esteban.)

you worded this better than i ever could but you're so right anon im so glad i'm not the only one who has noticed and been affected by this already.

[str4ngr]

was it worth it? [ sae itoshi ]

cw: not proofread, angst, foul language, break up, kinda sae focused, regret, desperate ex. notes: i might... key word might, make this a mini series bc i lowkey love this angst. pt. one

paparazzi was so damn annoying. his brows furrowed as more lights flickered across his face, clicking echoing through the night street like an open symphony as he rushed to his car, men in black forcing a path.

the cameras didn't stop even after the loud sound of the door shutting, the engine rolling as his driver took off to his apartment. within moments, the clicks faded into squabbling and shouting, before it became only the turn signal of the car. it was quiet again.

it was always quiet.

when you first left the apartment, the struggle against your sadness evident on your face, it was quiet. for the first time in a long time. there was only one set of shoes at the door. well, it's been like that for about a month now. he wondered if you've been tying your shoes. guilt tripped in his hear as he quickly shook his head, brushing away the softening memory.

when he stepped past the entry way, the quietness was piercing. he missed the noise of someone else in his kitchen, humming a song without a melody. he missed the buzz of the t.v., playing a show he wasn't particularly a fan of though you were.

sae's hands balled into fists at his sides, flat eyes glaring down at the navy couch in his living room. it was an l-shaped couch with plush, soft cushions and plenty of throw pillows. the seat in the corner was a bit less round, dipped and worn. it must've been a comfortable spot.

feeling as though he was acknowledging too much, sae's mind shut off, mechanically moving through his kitchen, dumping the pre-prepped dinner from his fridge into the pan. as heat sizzled through the thawing rice, his mind began to wander again.

"i don't need your luck."

he did. his stomach churned, and suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore, a strange lump in his throat, an unshakeable tremble in his hand, a burning in the waterline of his eyes. his jaw fell open, saliva pooling on his tongue, desperate to utter your name,

"i needed it. i needed your luck."

sae was speaking to no one and he knew it. his voice an echo in the hollow apartment, absent of you. the dip in the couch, too much space on the entry landing, no random recipes to welcome him home. regret swallowed him like a whale, unable to consume him, yet not pushing him far enough away to do anything but get swallowed up again.

a bitter scent filled the air, and sae scrambled to stir the fried rice around in the too-hot pan, huffing in irritation. he tried to play off his symptoms of sadness, though there was no reason anyone would struggle to diagnose him. his brows furrowed as he stared at the rice, mindlessly mixing the grain and finally lowering the heat.

his gaze flattened again, focused on what wasnt there. sae was curious, he hadnt used instagram in a long time. turning off the heat after learning from his previous mistake, his grabs his phone, pressing his finger to the lock and opening up the app he usually allowed his managers to-as their job entails-manage. the first thing he noticed was the absolutely abysmal amount of comments that arrived in the notification tab. he didnt bother opening it. instead, he opened his chats, and didnt find what he was looking for.

it made sae smile that you didnt message him, maybe you remembered how he always said he doesnt use his instagram. sae's expression falls at the next thought: maybe its because you hurt you too badly that night.

he searches through his following, heart sinking to see that he's no longer following you. stupid managers. "shit," he huffs, wanting to snap the brick of metal, instead angrily scrolling through his followers to find, "...still?"

sae scoffed, furious. angry for you, because why did you still follow him? why did you still look at all his posts? like all his posts? did- "what was that fucking doing for you?" sae walked away from what was supposed to be his dinner, huffing again as he sat on the couch. why couldn't you have unfollowed him? now, his finger trembled over your account, fighting with himself on whether he presses it or not.

air balls up into a lump in his throat. he remembered all the times you posted him, stupid little dates or when he won a game. he remembered the post for your first anniversary the most. you were so beautiful, so happy, your cheeks flushed with blood as the two of you sat in the restaurant that was also your first date. he remembered how he fought--and lost--when he tried not to be so boisterous that night, failing to resist your charm as the two of you laughed together on the couch, surrounded by each others warmth. cheesy. he smiled to himself at the word, trying not to acknowledge the way his eyes began to burn again, or how his lungs felt like they were sinking, or how hard it felt to breathe.

slamming his phone on the coffee table, sae keels over, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, palms digging into his eyes. it hurts. oh it fucking hurts. he feels his shoulders shake with each breath, his palms sweating, his eyes burning, his ears ringing, his pulse in his skull. he messed up. he messed up so much.

he needed you luck. he needed you.

notes: pt.3?

[doiliedaze]

Thin Ice: part one

Hockey! Vi x reader

Warnings: none in this part

Genre: fluff, angst

A/N: okay!! so this is my attempt in starting a series about hockey Vi based on this dream I had months and the Sailor Song by Gigi Perez and Moments by MOIO okay so wish me luck!! also none of my fics are truly edited I just re-read them till I can’t and pray my grammar is good. Reader is kinda naive/one track minded and very insecure in this. I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT HOCKEY SO BARE WITH ME!!

───────┈ · ·

I’ve been skating since I was a little girl. It was the only place I could call home. Skating was the only place I was finally the smartest and brightest in the room since I was perceived otherwise academically…and I do lack a bit in the common sense area.

They say there’s a zone we enter when we’re aligning our energy with the activity we love. My alignment is when I soar through the air, or just don’t fall flat on my ass. It was another one of those moments, heading to the rink when I was stopped.

“What are you doing here cupcake?”

When my eyes focus on her I was taken aback as I try to quickly study her. Why was my roommate here? “You know I practice here.” I state as I lace up.

She chuckled as she looks me up in down. I’m in a black bodysuit covered by a pink skirt and leg warmers over my matching pink skates, my coily hair put into a bun by a bow. “The practice is reserved for the hockey team. Did you not see the schedule posted outside?” She says with a small smile, I tilt my head “they changed the schedule?” Her smile flatters a bit and twitches as she points to the wall. I make an “o” shape with my mouth putting the pieces together. She pats my shoulders and skates away. In reparations of me fucking up I stay and watch.

Our college; Piltover university offers an array of extracurricular activities and in my two years of being here I’ve never known of this damn schedule changing!

Number 6, is an interesting player and my roommate. She brings an obvious aggression that the sport needs but she’s so swift and fast. I don’t know much about hockey but I do know she just scored so I might as well cheer for her right? Wrong! Getting stared at and the small but big enough snickers for me was enough to make me wanna to shrink and crawl into a hole and dissolve into a sunflower seed and sprout- well you get the point. This pushes me to attempt a swift exit.

When making my hurried exit she skates to the edge and whistles at me to get my attention. “Don’t leave, I appreciate having a personal cheerleader.” Her plump lips growing into a wolf-ish grin as she stares me down, always wanting a reaction. “Well I’m not a cheerleader I’m an ice skater! No disrespect to cheerleaders though I mean that takes a lot of courage, I know I could never-”

“It wasn’t a diss cupcake.” She stated before winking and skating away.

My face has never felt this hot before! Today is the day of utter shame and cruel unusual punishment. Now I have to figure out a new place to skate because I refuse to make the same mistake again…or read the time sheet next time who knows!

I make a routine out of avoiding the rink around 5-8 so I go during the wee hours of the morning. Kinda killing my sleeping schedule but hey pride am I right?

I don’t skate to be on a team, I prefer to be by myself and skate for me. It gets lonely sure but no one has ever supported me in doing this. All the slick comments of “oh why not be a majorette? On a step team? Why’d you stop stepping? You wanna be any race but black! Blah blah blah!” Don’t get me wrong those are beautiful activities in my culture but black girls can be everything and more at once. When I stepped it was fun and I could feel the unity but the feeling skating gave me made me feel like the most beautiful and the closest to my blackness. So when it came down to picking what I really wanted I chose skating, and been on my own since, because girls like me don’t belong here. Proving people wrong has been my biggest motivation, maybe I’m being a hard-ass but I don’t care; it feels good when I do in the end.

This routine I was practicing was more than difficult…axels hate me and I hate axels but I’m trying to land a quadruple axel.

My mind relaxes as my chest thumps, today feels like day…something I tell myself a lot. My momentum pushed as “Pearls” by Sade plays. I push off my left leg to project myself into the air. One…two…three…four-ish? My spin wasn’t complete and my landing was shaky, but I can try again. So I tried again and again! Frustrated I push myself, my skates cutting deep as I try to gain speed. Leaping into the air I spin one…two…three…four times! However I land flat on my ass. “Fuck!” I yell and i cover my face and I can’t control the wobble in my lip when I hear claps.

“And here I thought you were sneaking out to do something cool.” Vi states as she carefully glides over.

“I don’t need that right now.” I mutter, “company?” She lays on the ice with me.

Vi and I’s relationship is complicated. When we met in freshman year we hooked up then we ghosted each other. Sophomore year we both joined the literature club and gained a true friendship with a side of fucking whenever we’re both single. Now junior year I just feel distant with her.

She rubbed my cheek, “you don’t talk to me anymore.” I move from her touch���wishing I didn’t I know reaching out is hard for her. “I’m sorry”

“Don’t be sorry do better” she stood up shoving her hands in her pockets. “C’mon we’re going out.” I know not to argue so I oblige.

“The library?” I scoff in a whisper, “we are English majors.” She nudges me with her shoulder and I nudge her back.

We find a cozy nook and read our respective books. The two of us haven’t hung out in so long. I didn’t realize how much I missed her. I take her book. “Hey!” She reaches over me. Her pale blue eyes stare into my dark brown eyes. A soft blush spreads over her freckled cheeks and her eyebrows soften. “I miss you” we both whisper then laugh. Vi moves from me and takes my hand.

I’ve never been the type of person to be comfortable around others, wanting to be apart of a team but with Vi…I want to try everything.

───────┈ · ·

A/N: im so excited to start this series!! I wanted to challenge myself and I hope you guys enjoy <3

(Dividers by @dollywons)

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

12 Angry Space Marines or Lullaby's No Good Very Bad Only a Little Good Day - Part 1

First! A big thanks to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for helping write this beast of a piece. And to @sleepyfan-blog, @kit-williams and @egrets-not-regrets for use of their various characters.

Previous Chapter Here!

Next Chapter Under Construction Heeeere!

First in the entire series Here

Warning: Talks of violence, a very sore throat, threat of torture near mental breakdown and some mildly sexual talk.

Tags! I Hope you all enjoy!: @kit-williams @sleepyfan-blog @egrets-not-regrets @felinisnoctis @bispecsual

@passionofthesith @beckyninja @bleedingichorhearts @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@jaghatai-khock @virozero @angronsjewelbeetle

Summary:

Lullaby awakens alone, and injured. After everything that has happened the thing they want the least is to be alone. But try as they might they can't seem to get a message through to their loved ones. Meanwhile, the Scouts and the veteran Apothecaries get ready to take a vote on the fate of Stormbreaker, who they now must consider allowing to live if his survival truly is intertwined with Lullaby's.

You feel yourself drifting, swirling in patterns of darkness then back to mild lucidity only to be pulled under again. The same cycle repeats. Voices loud and quiet- demanding- requesting, questioning.

“SHUT UP!” “Fucking LOW BRED WITCH WHORE GOTHIC CURSING GOTHIC cursing-””Who is this Really!?” “The first psycher of the Baseline populace.” … “Their vitals are normal…at they need now is rest…” “I will take them to bed..”

There was the feeling of being swaddled in dark, familiar smelling blankets. The feeling of cool lips pressing to your cheeks and mouth. “I will return soon my darling…”

“..no….please, st…ay…” You tried to reach out but your fingers barely moved. You weren't even sure your throat was making words. You were so tired…so Tired…So Tired…

Khopesh cooed, brushing his hand softly against your cheek as you fight the force pulling you down. He thinks you look cute, while you feel about to cry. 

“Shhhhh, rest now,” He purrs, bringing his face down so he can nuzzle you, he presses another kiss to your lips. You feel momentarily soothed by the purrs rumbling in his chest as it presses to yours. 

“..s..t..ay…” Your lips move a little at least, but Khopesh seems to think you're just trying to kiss him back.

“When I return…I will give you my Full Attention.” He chuckles, allowing himself to indulge for a moment; he presses his tongue softly past your lips. Another kiss, just a small but intimate taste, he tells himself, just to tide him over until his lingering business with the Grey Knight is decided. 

You don't mind the kiss, but you mind what it means as he pulls away. But it's too late, you're already sinking ... 

sinking…

sinking…

A feeling like humming electricity, an overcharge, Grasping so hard onto Jophiel…followed by a scream so sharp it burned like-

M O L T E N  G O L D 

“HUAh! -ACK COUGH cOuGH!” You bolted upright gasping, hacking and coughing as your throat burned. Your eyes could barely parse the darkness but, you knew the bed your were sitting (coughing hacking dying??) At least…

Water, fucking hell I need water!

The typical water bottle you kept at the bedside was pretty much empty. You hobbled down from the bed, feeling along the way until your hand wrapped around a familiar handle. 

You pulled open the door to the Astarte grade mini fridge, grabbed a hydration ration and chugged it. The too cold liquid hurt as it touched your inflamed throat but the relief to your thirst powered you through it. 

Finally the ration was half empty and you pulled off, sucking in air which further irritated your pipes. Lord above what the Hell had you Done to yourself?? Your throat hurts- and the cold makes it harder to drink and you cough, which hurts.

Then the memories caught up with you properly. Ah right. A Bastard in Silver, a battle, your frie-

HOLY SHIT WHAT HAPPENED TO EVERYONE?!

They were all standing at the end, surely they're fine surely, Please Please PLEASE BE OKAY DON'T BE HURT DONT BE DEAD GO-

BREATHE DAMMIT!

You slapped yourself trying to get your mind in order. You glanced around the room that now at least had some Minor illumination from the fridge light. And a dizzying combo of relief and excitement runs through you as you spot your bag hanging where you normally put it when visiting. 

You're glad you can leave the fridge door propped as you scramble over to your bag and dig through it. There are things that you need to make sure you still have your mind going through the list as you grab each item.

Keys, Wallet (not your goal but you're glad it's there), Charger, Hairbrus- PHONE!

Oh thank the lord above! You think, as you frantically open it. 

Missed calls and texts from your parents…Shit. 

Okay okay Breathe, B R E A T H E, Your fingers tremble as you open the messages. 

‘Hey Lullybird, just checking in. When are you going to be home?’ 

45 minutes after the first message. 

‘Lully can you answer the phone??’

‘Bear, please pick up.’

15 minutes after that.

‘I'm starting to get worried! If you don't pick up your phone I'm going to drive to come find you!’

‘Your mother means it Bear, please answer.’

‘LULLY!’

5 Minutes Later 

‘Hey Hun! Khopesh texted to let us know you had too much fun at the picnic yesterday and passed out. So that's why you weren't answering your phone.’

Oh thank God, your Mom and Dad aren't making a panicked rush to the base. And they don't know about your near death experience. So that's two problems off your shoulders at least. 

And if Khopesh could text them that means he's safe. You feel even more relief flooding your system and uncoiling the Awful tension you'd been feeling. 

At least partly, you still didn't know the fate of the Primaris Marines. 

‘Next time please text Before you fall asleep after having too much fun!’ 

‘Yeah, just because you're Bear doesn't mean you get to hibernate for 6 months and not answer your phone.’

You smiled and rolled your eyes. You decided to type a quick response. 

‘Sorry to worry ya'll, I promise next time I'll text you Before I party myself into passing out. You text. ‘I'm okay, the partying hard also left me pretty tired even now, so I'm gonna chill at the base for a while longer. I should be home later today. I also want to check up on the new friends I made yesterday.’

A response was sent quickly from your mother. 

‘Turkey Butt…but I'm glad you're okay. See you later.’

‘Love you Bear Bear, see you later.’

You typed back. ‘Love you Both! See you soon.’

Okay…now to the main issue. You wanted to find the Primaris Marines. Sure if any were badly injured they'd be getting care from Anrir and Hura. Cedric was a fantastic apothecary in his own right but…

Gurgle…

Okay, one of the main issues, even if the Primaris were fine you Wanted to see them. Maybe it was a disconnect in your brain but sometimes you felt the need to see things to be certain of them. 

Like clicking the door lock of your car three times instead of one. Or double checking the stove was off. 

G U R G L e….

Seems your stomach was doing its own double checking; so you'd need to see to that too. You rub your stomach a little, sheepish with how loudly your stomach complained.

Khopesh should have some non-perishable snacks around. He always kept a supply. A memory of your beloved menace floats into your mind.

‘Just incase there's a shortage. I have lived through them before by the skin of my teeth when I was small. I got thin enough to see my ribs, luckily there was always at least a few rats and bugs running around…and a few corpses here and there. They didn't taste very good but Eh, more reason to be prepared!’

Hearing him say this so cheerfully and matter of fact practically broke your heart. It was part of the reason you wanted to make sure your cake was perfect. You want to make sure that he doesn’t have to worry about starvation.

He deserved the best you could give after that kind of life.  

And that Silver Bastard  R U I N E D it!

You feel your skin prickle with rage, a familiar rumbling grows in your ears as your muscles tense and your jaw twitches. 

Bz-zt Zt!

You're startled from your seething when the fridge light flickers violently with a sharp electric sound. Then it returns to normal as if nothing happened.

That…was weird… A bizarre thought comes to your mind, especially given what happened yesterday. Did…you do that?

If your powers could pour out of you as a scream, or travel through Jophiel like a ground rod, who's to say they can't affect electronics? It's all energy at the end of the day, particles traveling on waves or through conduits, and those waves being able to enhance or weaken each other….

Bringing up these topics to Anrir is third on your list, you decide. Food, Check on the Primaris boys, tell Anrir about science wizard shit. Karlsor did say that sometimes imagination, or lack thereof could be a limiter on psyker abilities.

You're still dressed in your clothes from yesterday, save your shoes but those are easy to locate. You sling your bag on your back, finish the hydration ration, and open the cupboard beside the fridge where the snacks are kept-

There are no snacks….What!?

You feel around in the darkness, thinking perhaps they're just pushed back only for your hand to brush against something papery. 

You pick up the slip of paper, and read it by the light of the fridge, and your half charged phone. 

This is what you get when you take things that don't belong to you Fuckface! Stop stealing my fucking sunglasses, and you can have your food back. 

Sincerely, Karlsor 

P.S. Fuck You 

Followed by a crass doodle of Karlsor sticking his tongue out and flipping the bird. You facepalmed with a groan.

Dammit Karlsor, Of all the times to pull a dumb shit Prank!

Oh well you wanted to leave this room anyway, guess you're doing it on an empty stoma- 

The door handle wiggles a bit, but doesn't turn. You jostle it again hoping it was a fluke…but the movement (or lack thereof) stays the same. 

You must be fucking Joking!? A frustrated wordless shriek/growl builds up in your injured throat, as you fruitlessly shake the handle of the electronic door lock. 

Okay new plan. You whip out your phone, and start texting. 

But as you try to send your messages of ‘Why am I locked in here?’ And ‘The fuck is this??’ with a picture of the food note, followed by ‘Hey Claude, Khopesh locked me in his room can you help me get out?’, And finally ‘Your Gremlins have done a fucking mischief please help!’ To Khopesh, Karlsor, Claude and Anrir respectively…you feel a bit of that prior anxiety creeping back in. 

None of the messages send properly. You try resending, deleting and rewriting, closing the message app and trying again, restarting your phone even! But every time the messages seem to hit a brick wall. 

What the Hell!? Your parents miles away from the base could get your messages, but four people Inside the base couldn't!?

Something wasn't right. 

You turn back to the door. 

You don't know what is happening, but you can't stay here. But how are you going to open the door?

Your mind drifts back to the moment with the light in the fridge…maybe? You kneel so you're eye level with the lock. You feel along it with your fingertips. Perhaps… you could try to do something?

You can't see things the way you did yesterday, but as you pull on your power, you notice the faintest…shimmer slide across the lock. As if your mycelium was invisible except for that nearly imperceptible visual feedback. 

And based on what happened yesterday it was pretty much confirmed that only You and others using warp sight could actually see them, even when boosted to near maximum power. You had heard that sometimes pushing past your limits- or near enough can help with a break through, but that doing such things could be dangerous if not properly watched over and the person cared for during and after it happening.

You remember the Silver Space Marine's murderous rage. How it'd felt not just to See the intention on his face, but actually Feel how he wanted to destroy you. The glare you could feel through the blue visor had been chilling.

The anger…the Malice, you stopped yourself, feeling nausea bubble in your empty gut, you needed to focus on the task at hand. 

You aren't certain how much to push, but you knew how to give a zap so… You remember what Karlsor said about Visualizing what you want your roots to do. Feel them reaching out- extending along a path.

Bzzt-ZAP! The lock clicks, and you swiftly turn the handle, and step out into the hallway. 

The Night lord Hallway. The hallways of the base designed for Night Lords, likely by Night Lords, even if they might not have built it…perfect. The darkness and the twisted architecture here hadn't frightened you for a while, but then again…you'd always come here with Khopesh. 

But other Night lords had human companions! You have an uneasy, sinking feeling in your stomach. You shake your head a little bit. Surely you'd be fine just…just follow what Claude said, when you'd asked about the faint green lines that trailed along the floors of these areas. 

‘Those are for navigation, see how they have arrow shapes cut into them. Follow those, and you can get back to the communal base areas.’ Claude helpfully pointed out- showing you the navigation lines. ‘The green was chosen as it could be seen- even by baselines in the more dimly lit areas of the base- without being considered ‘garish’... Also a word of advice? Do. Not. Run. In this area of the base.’

Follow the green lines and arrows. Okay, you can do this. You Can Do This. 

You take your first steps and wince at the sound of your own shoes as they pad across the floor into the dark. Shifting your bag, and holding it tighter to yourself. 

You'll be fine. You'll be fine. You chant to yourself.

You also firmly (try to) ignore the feeling that you were being watched. You don’t see anyone or hear anyone- but you have experience. You will see or hear your watchers precisely when they want to be seen or heard, and not a moment more.

…

Meanwhile in a meeting room on the upper floors of the Base, Anrir and Hura had gathered their Scoutlings for a meeting. Some of them are standing, others are sitting. Once they are all seated the oldest of the gathered marines speaks up.

“I suppose you would all like an answer as to why I've asked you all to come here?” Anrir posits, folding his hands together as he sits at the table. The other seats are occupied by Hura, Cedric, Ramiel, Nanael, Olly (and his rock), Claude, Jophiel, Kerubiel, Thressl, Karlsor, and Khopesh.

“Give us some credit, old man -Oof!” Kerubiel mutters snidely only to be elbowed by Thressl.

Thressl shakes his head when Kerubiel shot him a glare, snark and sass at this point in time would be a dumb idea. The Dark Angel smacks him back, but doesn’t speak for the moment. Things were tense- and they just found out a big secret. Who knows what Anrir or Hura might do to them with knowledge of something like this.

“We can make an educated Guess, it's to do with the Grey Knight correct?” Cedric answers to which both Anrir and Hura nod. 

“Indeed, we will need to decide what his fate shall be for his ahem … transgressions.” Hura explains. 

“There are a number of factors to consider, namely the benefits and consequences of either keeping him alive, or…”

“Killing him, Slowly…” Khopesh says with a grin that is equal parts gleeful anticipation and frustrated Rage. His claw-like nails were on their way to digging trenches into the table.

“Khopesh do not damage the base's property.” Anrir commands sternly. “Here, dig into this, not the table or your skin.” Anrir tosses an astarte grade stress toy to his…exuberant son who catches it easily, and begins squeezing and digging his claws into it as he'd been doing with the table. 

But his focus doesn’t waiver as he addresses his father. “I care not for the bureaucracy of keeping him alive, or his benefit as a psycher. He has committed an unforgivable act. Incurred an unpayable debt for what he did to our Claude, our Scouts and my Lullaby! Allow me to extract his Meager value from his dying screams in retribution! I will even keep his body usable for you.” He promises, switching to Nostraman so the others wouldn't understand that part. “Please father, allow me this. I crave-No! I Must make him Beg for the mercy of the grave-!”

Claude has been learning Nostraman, and caught his words, he keeps his face neutral- at least Khopesh remembers that waste not, want not includes making sure that organs and other useful pieces can still be harvested, if the Silver Bastard is killed.

Anrir holds up one ancient yet unmarred hand to stop his son from continuing. “A compelling argument my son, but it is not only you he has wronged. The Scouts deserve their chance to speak on these matters as well, given they were the ones most hurt by his actions.”

Khopesh huffs, but doesn't argue, simply responding with a, “Yes father.” To which Anrir nods approvingly, then addresses the other Scouts. 

“Khopesh has given a good example as to why I've brought you all here. I encourage you all to speak freely, One at a time of course.” He explains, then gestures to the room. “This room is shielded, no transmission can go In or Out, your words will only be known to those in this room.”

Hura picks up the conversation. “We shall be taking a vote on the fate of the Grey Knight. You will each get a chance to speak your vote, and if you deem it necessary, elaborate upon it.” 

Now Thressl scoffs a bit. “I don't think we need a whole meeting fer this? Let's just gut the Bastard an’ be done with it! I'm sure all of us have got better things to do than sit here.” The Space Wolf insists. 

Claude shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he speaks up. “I…don't think we should be so hasty.”

This actually causes some confusion, the others in the room turning to the adopted Night lord. While he did not want to be merciful- Jophiel’s words- the vision he had made him… reluctant to kill the bastard outright. For not at least.

“Claudy?” Khopesh asks, uncertain and maybe just slightly mildly frustrated, why his little brother who had been so full of righteous fury suddenly seems so much more subdued.

Claude took a deep breath, “Before we take the vote…there's something you all should know.” He states, standing and gesturing to Jophiel to do the same. “Go ahead,” He says, placing a comforting hand on the Blood Angel's shoulder. 

Jophiel also takes a steadying breath, his wings flex and settle with his nerves before he addresses the room. “I…had a vision…after I helped Lullaby ground the overflow of power they experienced.”

“I saw many possibilities; things that might already be, or haven't been yet, or may never be. The uncertainty is…frightening but the clearest of the images was thus.” Jophiel explains. “A monstrous being of gold, awakes from its slumber, it stirs at the ripples that flow outward from the melody. It hungers for b-blood…” Jophiel stammers a bit, but grounds himself with Claude's hand. “It awakens to Strangle the Melody in the cradle, to make it silent once more…”

“And the worst of outcomes are more likely…if Silver tarnishes into rust…”

The room is mostly silent, the Scouts seem confused by Jophiel's riddle speak…all except for Claude, Khopesh and Karlsor. Karlsor starts swearing under his breath while Khopesh's grip on the stress toy had increased with every word Jophiel spoke until-

POP!

The scoutlings look upon the Night Lord who appears like he's about to pop himself. Still gripping the destroyed item in his fist. Ah- visions are always complicated- and sometimes true, sometimes untrue, sometimes only partially true. But could they take the risk of discarding Jophie’s visions?

No one moves. 

At last Anrir clears his throat. “That was the Second reason for the shielded room…I'm afraid your recent incident with the Grey Knight isn't the only…event of consequence we will need to discuss as we take this vote.”

“Tell me…have any of you Scouts ever heard of a being known as, A Custodes?”

…

Walk, just keep walking, just follow the lines on the floor. 

Walk, do not run, running activates the prey drive and you're Dead. 

Walk, keep your head up to not look weak, but not so far up as to imply arrogance. 

Your thoughts swirl around, and around. The feeling of being watched had only increased as you'd followed the green lines. You had to tamp down on the urge to bolt (walkdontrunpreydrivedead), and even more so on the urge to use your powers. 

Would they do you much good in this situation?? A zap could help but then you'd have to be touching whoever was looking at you, and they might be a psycher so then they might realize it wasn't just static electricity- 

You feel your heart pick up speed with excitement as you see the doorway you knew would lead you out of this place. Away from the eyes of those with unknown intentions. 

Walk Do-Not-Run 

And you're close. You grasp the handle to the door and start to pull. 

“Leaving so soon?” 

The gasping scream you would've made is smothered by your sore throat as your other hand is snatched up in an unfightable hold. You're pulled up and back from the door, then swung around roughly till the movement stops and you can gain your bearings.

A deep navy blue ceremite clad hand is holding your arm, leaving you dangling like a child holding a teddy by the arm, only your toes are touching the floor. You glance back to see a short haired Nightlord with criss crossing facial scars grinning and chuckling in a way that makes your stomach ice over. 

You look forward and see two more shapes come into focus from the darkness. Two more Nightlords, one has his helmet on, the other looks…almost stately in appearance with well groomed stark white hair, and seemingly unblemished skin. 

“My my Myyyy, it seems you're even more…homely in appearance up close.” The white haired Nightlord purrs, going as far to pinch your Nose between his gauntleted fingers! 

He was actually pinching with a decent amount of force, enough to sting. And as he shifted his grip it actually felt like he might try to break it, before tutting at the pained whines you tried to hold back. “Oh come now Pet, don't take it so personally…homely can be Charming after all…in its own way.” He chuckled, releasing your nose, and straightening his posture.

“They Are Cute! Tiiiiiny and fragile,” The Night lord holding you up purrs sickeningly, bringing his face next to yours so you're forced to inhale his breathe, you try not to breathe in so much. “Whatcha wanna do with ‘em Faust?”

Faust hums, and drums his fingers on his chin fucking casually. “Well…there are just so many options. But I Think I know what I want to do First…” He states, and brings his hand to your face again. This time he snatches your cheeks into a little  too tight hold, forcing you to look him in the black, eyes. 

“A question…Why were you such a Rude little human?” You blinked, clearly confused but Faust did elaborate. “I Know you felt us watching, yet you didn't run. You denied us our Chase. And then you have the nerve to not even Scream, when dear Mephis snatched you up? You're either incredibly Dense or Incredibly Stupid.” 

Didn't those mean the same thing??? But Faust went on “So tell me, What is going through your empty little head?”

You were flabbergasted, but before you could even attempt to open your mouth, the other Nightlord who hadn't spoken once finally sighed. He sounded bored and exasperated. “Really Faust?”

“SHUT UP CHIROP!” Faust's voice turning from posh yet sadistic to full on snarling bile actually startles you…though maybe not just you if the twitch you felt from Mephis was anything to go by. Chirop seems to hesitate, before glancing away. Faust turns his attention back to you, and the stately gentlemen act comes back over him. “Well? We're waiting…”

You're not even sure what's trying to come out of your mouth, maybe a Huh? Or a What? But your sore throat chokes ot to nothing, leaving you flailing like a fish on a line, wincing and grasping your throat.

Now it’s the Night Lords turn to look confused. “Are you Mute as well as stupid?” Faust askes with a slight sneer.

Okay, fuck you bastard, you thought but shake your head. You bring your hand up to your throat and press your fingers to the sore spots from the outside. 

“You got Choked?” Mephis asks, confused.

Okay fair misinterpretation, you shake your head again. You bring your hand up and make a scratching motion at your throat.

“Oo! OO! I got it! Your neck is itchy?” Mephis puts forth before…bringing his other hand up, and…scratching at the back of your neck??

It was a bit roughly done, but actually didn't feel too bad. Still no though, you shake your head again. What other motions could you make to get the idea across?

Chirop sighs then growls. “For Curze's sake their throat is injured! Like Scratchy? That's why they can't talk!”

“Oh…” Mephis nods with understanding…still scratching the back of your neck. “That makes sense.”

Faust seems a little miffed by the explanation, and let's out a huff. “Well…that's disappointing…” Then a new look comes over his face, one that brings back the curdling dread in your stomach. “But…it also means no one Else will be able to hear you Scream…” He brings his grinning face full of bright sharp teeth down to your eye level. 

It's at this point Mephis stops scratching your neck. “Well yeah…they just explained they literally can't scream.”

“MEPHIS YOU ARE A BRAIN DEAD IDIOT! BE SILENT” The snarling bile came back, and this time you notice how Mephis flinches more obviously when the white haired Nightlord turns his vitriol on him. Faust huffs then brushes his hair back as if trying to compose himself. You notice how the third less chatty member of the group had flexed his claws, and leaned forward when Faust chastised Mephis. 

Interesting…and you actually Almost feel sorry for him when the Nightlord holding you mumbles out a quiet. “Sorry Faust…”

Faust seems to notice Mephis's unhappiness, and lets out a sigh. “You know I adore how…charmingly direct you are Mephis dear.” He cooes, now saccharine in his wording. 

It makes you want to vomit with how clearly Fake it was. 

“But it Can also be…tedious, and you Know how I feel about tedium, don't you?” More sweet empty cooing, you're third wheeling your own shakedown…Great…

You glance to the other third wheel with a look of confusion. He just shakes his head, and you figure he's rolling his eyes. His fists were still clenching and unclenching though.

“So…why not break up the tedium by…playing with a new toy? Would that make you feel better, my big strong lunk head?”

Okay now the dread comes back, and you did Not like how Mephis's expression changed to one of excitement. 

Chirop speaks up again. “Faust, you know who this one belongs to...”

Faust scoffs. “I don't see a tattoo anywhere, do you Chirop? Is the tattoo in the room with us?” He remarks snidely. “Or maybe that's just the opinion of yours that I didn't ask for. Besides…”

“I doubt one of Anrir's lap dog bastard sons would care if we batted around his current sex toy for a bit. He doesn't even care enough to mark them, so they can't be That important…”

You ears fill with rumbling again like before, causing This Smarmy Fuckers words to trail off into background noise. 

First he calls Your Khopesh a lap dog bastard son, then has the Nerve to insinuate that Khopesh doesn't Love You?

The man who threatened to fight the literal reason for your trauma? (Even if you'd convinced him not to.) Who gave you love and affection and banter and made you feel beautiful inside, outside, in bed, in life, introduced and integrated you into his Family for fucks SAKE.

“Hell they'd probably spread their legs for anyone who offered them safety, If they were even smart enough to think of doing so that is.”

Honestly you thought this fucker had found the straw that broke the camel's back? BUT DAMN he just keeps finding more!

You're done, you are Done with this bullshit. You've shot straight past fear and now you are going to make them-

P A Y...

Mephis you can tackle through the hand still held in his grasp but the others…

(!) And that's when it hits you. You feel your toes touching the floor, almost as if you were dancing en point. You focus, pulling on your power, and pushing it through your legs. 

As the two Nightlords continue their chatting about all the awful things they might do to you, you watch the shimmer and shift of the air as you feel the mycelium spread. 

You suppress a determined smile when you feel the subtle change in sensation of it making contact with the Nightlords. The shimmers crawl up their armor and you imagine your mycelium grasping and tangling around their Necks.

They're not psychers, you can feel how low their warp power is.

So you'll just have to drain their life force instead. If giving energy causes a boost of Vitality, draining it must do the opposite. And you weren't going to lie, the thought of these bastards dropping like flies in front of you sounded Very Appealing right now. 

You'd still need to be careful, pulling too fast could cause a zap, which might give you away. That you could not risk. It’s working. You think to yourself, pleased.

You do allow yourself a light grin seeing the shimmer on your roots become slightly more visible. You also notice how the conversation of the Night Lords has changed again. 

Namely that it's trailed off, Faust (bastardfuckfacedeadmanwalking-) swivels his head around suddenly. 

“Did you two…hear something?” He asks, actually sounding a little worried. 

Mephis looks around as well, you can feel his grip loosening as he loses focus. “Hear what?”

“Maybe it's Another opinion you didn't want to hear.” Chirop growls, more tersely, perhaps his response to your roots draining him is more anger than Fear. 

“Will you Shut your Stupid FUCKING MOUTH CHIROP I'M TRYING TO LISTEN!” 

“Is the sound in the room with us right now Faust? BECAUSE ALL I'M HEARING IS YOUR ANNOYING FUCKING VOICE!”

Mephis actually seems very distressed by this outcome. “Stop it! Both of you! We're not supposed to fight each other!”

“SHUT UP MEPHIS!” “NOT NOW MEPHIS!”

“DO NOT, GIVE HIM ORDERS!”

“OH BECAUSE THE ONLY ONE ALLOWED TO GIVE ORDERS IS YOU RIGHT!? CURZE'S SAKE I SHOULD'VE-”

“LIKE YOU HAVE EVEN A SHRED OF WHAT IT TAKES! IT’S NO PICNIC MANAGING YOU TWO IDIOTS! YOU'RE LUCKY TO HAVE SOMEONE AS CAPABLE AS ME TO KEEP YOU BOTH ALIVE AND FED!”

“PLEASE!” 

“SHUT UP!” “MEPHIS!”

Bingo, the other two were at each other's throats and the third was steadily becoming more upset which would hopefully lead to him dropping y-

“Shut UP I'M TRYING TO THINK!” 

“But I didn't say anything Fau”-

SMACK! 

Your world falls for a moment as your feet hit the concrete floor, with the rest of your body following. You roll scramble back to standing as soon as you can. Claude and you had practiced how to roll and fall properly so that you didn’t hurt yourself.

Just in case some asshole might try to grab you- from Astartes height-. Your jaw however stays fallen open as you realize what just happened. Faust actually struck Mephis across the face, who's now doubled over covering himself while Faust continues to berate him. 

“I said SHUT UP! AND QUIET YOUR INCESSANT WHINING IT'S GRATING ON MY NERVES YOU DOLT!”

“Sorry Faust…” Mephis whimpers. 

That…he can't be… If Any of the Nightlords you knew pulled something like that…Any of the Astartes you knew even! The one in Mephis's position wouldn't be apologizing! He'd be throwing hands!

Or someone would be throwing them on his behalf!

You glance back at the other Night lord who does look ready to KILL the white haired Asshole, but you notice the way he hesitates. 

Mephis briefly looks at him, and shakes his head, which seems to be the only thing holding Chirop back from committing a good old fashioned homicide. 

What the fuck kind of dynamic had you walked (been dragged) into? As much as you would love to break the prissy platinum blond bitch's nose you knew you didn't stand a chance, even one to one, but if you go for the door now, they'd probably snatch you again before you made it three steps.

For now, you had managed to keep your focus even while being dropped, so you keep draining. But you are Primarily focused on Faust.

Could anyone blame you? 

The white haired Night Lord seems to grow more paranoid by the second whipping back and forth until…his eyes land on you. 

You freeze, half from fear and the other half you still feel that bubbling seething rage in your very Soul. 

“Stop it- Stop Staring at me you little Freak!!” He snarls, maybe he can subconsciously sense what you're doing. You don't stop though.

You Like seeing the FEAR in his eyes.

Faust actually starts laughing, without humor and without breaking eye contact. “Oh OhHO little whore iS DEFIANT EY?” He giggles, and you scramble backwards as he advances. “TIME FOR YOU TO LEARN, WHAT DEFIANCE GETS YOU-” Faust shouts while winding up his arm for a back hand. 

SLAM-M-M!

A huge dark shape interrupts Faust by Crashing down from above in front of you. The entry is followed by a piercing guttural snarl and the sound of flapping bat wings. 

“SHIT IT'S THE NIGHT HAUNTER! RUN! SCATTER!!!” Mephis cries, and scrambles away into the dark with Chirop not far behind. 

“YOU IDIOTS IT'S NOT THE NIGHT HAUNTER IT'S JUST-,” 

“Just…What exactly…?” A familiar voice breathes through the ghoulish looking raptor helm. 

Faust shuts his stupid fucking mouth, before having the Gall to bring out the polite voice again. “Ahh…Ghosk, what a surprise…”

“5….”

“I'm sorry what?”

“4…”

“Now wait just a minute this is All a misunderstanding!”

“3…”

“Which has already offended you so I'll just be on my way…”

“2-1…”

“FUCKING HELL YOU IDIOTS WAIT FOR ME!” Faust cries as Ghosk chases him back into the darkness, snarling and slashing claws practically at his heels until the younger Nightlord vanishes from your sight. 

You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. Holy shit that was scary. 

But it was also Satisfying. Fuck those assholes! 

Ghosk huffs into the dark, before turning back to you. You'd met this particular Nightlord and his human. Like you'd said before, Khopesh wanted to integrate you into his family. 

He was Oooold like Anrir, but a bit more crass like Karlsor. His jokes made you snort on more than one occasion. But right now he seemed far less jovial. 

Not like you couldn't guess why…

“This is no place for squishy little humans to be walking Alone. What in Curze's name were you Thinking?” He growled in a voice that was both exasperated and Tired. 

You open your mouth to respond, but only a bit of weezy air comes out as you try to speak. 

Shit that still hurt!

You fumbled around in your bag for your phone and typed a quick message. 

'Shit popped off yesterday, ask Anrir.' 

'Throat got fucked up, not in the fun way. Literally can't talk.'

'Got locked in a room without food.' You show the picture of Karlsor's note which causes Ghosk to actually laugh slightly followed by tired mutter of “Of course he fucking did that, for fuck's sake…”

'Need to eat And I need to find the Primaris boys, especially Jophiel, have you seen them??'

Ghosk shakes his head. “Sorry kid, haven't seen any of them since this morning. Just saw Anrir being tight lipped as usual, he was with Claude though. And I haven't seen the fluffy duckling in a long while.”

Ghosk notes the way your shoulders sagged in disappointment, before an itch hits your throat causing you to hack and cough like you had tuberculosis. 

He chuckles patting you on the back as your neck throbs from the air forced through it. “Come on little human. Let's get you to the medbay.”

THuMP! 

Another loud sound similar to when Ghosk had plummeted to your aid rings out. You whip your head in the direction, and Ghosk instantly goes into another defensive stance, a snarl is building on his lips until-

“What the heck is all the ruckus down here for??” Another familiar voice comes out of another familiar helmet. This one you recognize as a Chaplain, and the voice…

Ghosk sighs heavily. “Shatterwing…”

The Chaplain whom you'd met in passing holds his clawed gauntlets up plaintively. “Hey man, I just got here- Oh!” His eyes lock onto you, and he swoops in curiously. “Khopesh's little squeeze! But not a Khopesh in sight, what's up with you? You two have a fight?”

You open your mouth, but again nothing comes out. You point to your throat, and shake your head. 

“You didn't have a fight…you just can't talk?” Shatterwing asks, cocking his head. 

Damn you're tired. You finally decide fuck it, open your mouth as wide as you can, and even hook your fingers into your cheeks. You take one hand and point down your throat to emphasize that Shatter should look Inside. Which to his credit he does. 

“HOLY DAMNED WHORE MOTHER OF CURZE WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU!?!?”

The Chaplain shrieks causing you to startle a bit, ah well ... you certainly hadn't expected that reaction, lord above. 

“The hell are you yapping about now!?” Ghosk demands. 

Shatterwing points a trembling hand at you. “Their throat is redder than a tech priest taking a mud bath on Mars! What the hell did you and Khopesh do last night?? Were you trying to do something kinky and went too far or was this expected!?-” 

Thwack! “Don't ask them that you dumb fucking slut!” Ghosk growls after delivering a quick hit to the rambling chaplain. It was much less violent than the one you saw Faust give Mephis.

The Chaplain hisses back at the older Nightlord, you just…you just shake your head. 

“Wait, that's not what happened?” Shatter asks. “Then what did?”

You open your mouth, but then close it. You can't…really tell him. So you just shake your head again. 

“Oooooh I see…too embarrassed to tell me?” Shatter posits. You feel an embarrassed blush erupting over your face at the implications. “No worries little human, you don't have to give me details. Though I certainly wouldn't be opposed. I'd be impressed to find a partner who could leave my throat like that after a night of Passion.”

You facepalm, pulling your hand down your cheeks in exasperation. You're not escaping the freak allegations today it seems. Maybe better he thinks you're just into weird stuff, saves you the trouble of making up a proper lie. 

Ghosk just sighs tiredly again before telling Shatter to either be quiet or Scram, because he's taking you to the med bay. 

The Chaplain acquiesces to the former, but you can't escape the feeling of him eyeing you smugly as the three of you make your way there. 

Lord above it's not even 11 AM and the day is already exhausting…Lucky You!

[vladdyissues]

so i've mentioned before how i think reign storm made vlad want danny's babies and i feel like you might like what i'm getting at when i expand on it because i am drawin' on ALL the lore for that headcanon

so in season 1, we absolutely got the arc that Vlad had a bit more in common with Jack than he wanted to admit (interests, skill, the ability to hyperfocus until the ectofilter makes their house explode), and that he was desperate for people to love him but unwilling to see them clearly enough to actually love them--he would happily sand off any traits incompatible with his vision, before accepting them as-is. he especially wants to sand off all the traits in danny he associates with Jack

if their relationship had changed in s1, it would be badger cereal all the way down for me. you could not get me to romantically ship it again, even with the chemistry, for love nor money. but it didn't

and then we got Reign Storm in S2

where we got to see vlad and danny being their most sincere and straightforward around each other. vlad was sincerely a magnificent bastard and danny was sincerely not putting up with his shit, but they're so much of their authentic selves only around each other. vlad still wants danny to be his son, to be influenced by him... up until the Pariah Dark fight

i am 100% certain he never meant for Danny to win there. he was waiting for Danny to wear Pariah down and pass out where Vlad could take his place in the suit and win, getting the credit AND the kudos for saving Danny. but that's not what happened

Danny, a younger, weaker, still half-mortal being in a suit actively draining him managed to win against Pariah Dark, who was so powerful it took multiple implied gods to seal him away the first time. all without Vlad having a single moment of true, lasting influence on him. and my theory...

is Vlad's ghost instincts saw this, finally saw Phantom as his own unrelated entity, and went "THIS ONE. MAKE BABIES WITH THIS ONE. LOCK HIM DOWN NOW, HE IS GOING TO BE A LEGEND"

(and so we get Dan and Dani in the same season)

and in every episode after, it is clear Maddie takes a backseat to Danny for him. he doesn't even plot the murder of Jack in any real way until the series finale. his focus is 100% on Danny and making his own Danny using the original Danny and/or putting Danny in a submissive/pliant position

i don't think he's consciously aware of any of this. or, if he is, he hates that he's thinking that way about someone nearly thirty years his junior. but i do think there's a hell of a story in half-ghost instincts being misinterpeted between the two halves of themselves and having to adapt to being their own, separate entity from humans OR ghosts

and that is my comprehensive explanation as to why I headcanon Reign Storm made Vlad's metaphorical ovaries start screaming for his attention

OH.

Shit. That's perfect.

Of course Vlad would wait until absolutely necessary to jump in and deliver the coup de grâce to Pariah. (Let the pawn sacrifice himself, do all the work, King takes credit, etc.) But the pawn... held his own?? The pawn fucking put that thing back where it came from or so help me?? By this time Vlad would surely know how to spot a good investment, and I just know the inside of his head sounded like hitting the jackpot at a Vegas casino when he saw Danny put the smack down.

Is there such a thing as Investments to Lovers? Arranged (Baby) Carriage?

Another thing you're absolutely right about is how Vlad's obsession with Maddie dropped off immediately after Reign Storm. Excepting Phantom Planet, naturally.

I love this meta. It's pure rocket fuel.

[kamaluhkhan]

anti-curse

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of apollo!reader

summary: whether he knew it or not, percy jackson made the world a better, brighter place — and you intend to protect him, no matter what path the fates leads you down. fuck prophetic dreams. the future wasn't written in stone.

warnings/disclaimers: mentions of typical demigod things (battles, weapons, etc.); this is set during the heroes of olympus series so roughly follows that plot + features the seven demigods; mainly inspired by book!percy (dark hair, sea green eyes) bc that's the one i fell in love w growing up; characters are aged up from the book (reader + percy are meant to be 21-22 y/o) bc i imagine there was more time between prophecies/series....anyways, please enjoy <3

when you first met percy jackson, he almost shot you through the chest with an arrow.

given that apollo is your godly parent, you often found yourself at the archery field, which happened to be one of the first stops on percy’s tour of camp half-blood. after that first mishap, your other half-siblings were, understandably, too scared to let percy try again — frankly chiron seemed a bit hesitant as well — and you could sense that percy felt disheartened. so, you flashed the boy a reassuring smile before giving him a few pointers and a second chance. when he smiled back at you, you felt a fluttering in your stomach that told you percy jackson would be more than a little important in your life.

archery still wasn't percy's strong suit, but your gut feeling turned out to be true. you and percy had dealt with a lot since then — a handful of quests, several prophecies, more than a few near-death experiences, a titan war, and, maybe worst of all, high school. you couldn't imagine getting through any of it without him by your side, and you knew the feeling was mutual.

so, you were entirely anticipating that percy would be hurt by your announcement during dinner. 

“no way that’s happening.” percy laughs, as if he can’t believe you’d suggest something as ridiculous as not having him accompany you on your quest. he remains unfazed, takes a sip of his electric blue coke before gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “come on, sunshine. have something to eat.”

the nickname sends your heart into a frenzy as you sit next to him. you and percy had never been anything other than friends, but sometimes....sometimes you look at his dangerous ocean eyes and wind-swept dark hair and it makes you blush. sometimes you consider the way his laughter fills you with warmth and his smile holds a thousand memories, the way he teases and winks at you and you decide that he makes your world so much brighter. sometimes you remember how sarcastic and thoughtful and loyal and reckless he is, his heart of gold and unpredictability of the sea. and you start to think that maybe possibly you'd fallen in love with your best friend.

that was not the issue at hand, though. you summon your favourite food and drink, but don't particularly feel like having either. percy returns to his conversation with hazel about how the two of you would drive up to montauk after you finally got your license, any time either of you needed to escape your reality, even just for a night. you'd sit on the beach, stargazing and roasting stale marshmallows and wishing to stay there forever. hazel seems to think that sounds like a nice escape, and percy promises that once the eight of you fulfill this prophecy, you'll all go to the beach house together, which makes hazel break out into a grin.

you can't help but smile at percy who loves his friends, who has loved you for so long. that feeling is quickly replaced by a pang in your chest that reminds you what's at stake. from the corner of your eye, you notice annabeth across from you, who looks at you like you’re a puzzle she can’t quite solve. you're trying to hide it, but if anyone can read you better than percy, it's annabeth. she knows something is weighing on your mind. you briefly lock eyes with jason, who you had gone to earlier for help, from the other side of the room, where he sits between piper and frank. 

if you weren’t so distracted, you would have been able to enjoy dinner. the eight of you — all demigods of the current great prophecy — hadn’t been all together in a while, and it was nice to share a meal aboard the argo ii despite the reality of why you’d all been traveling together. leo had equipped the ship with magic plates and cups, and with the lively jokes and stories filling the air, you could almost imagine it was an ordinary summer evening at camp. you could almost forget that tomorrow, you had to go on a quest to rescue apollo and artemis from python, a monster so powerful your father barely defeated him thousands of years ago. you could almost ignore the impending war with gaea and the giants, and the doomed fate of the world if you were to fail. the one thing you could no longer ignore, however, is the gut feeling you have about the fate of the boy sitting next to you if your quest is to unfold the way you had first planned it. 

you clear your throat, an attempt to interrupt the group's conversations. 

“i was serious earlier,” you declare. “you’re not coming with me, percy. jason is.”

the smile percy had on his face fades. his eyes are filled with concern and disbelief, as he glances at you. “i – i don’t understand.”

"percy,” jason jumps in carefully, aware that he’s treading through dangerous waters like you had warned him. “y/n and i were strategizing earlier and it seems to make the most sense, given our powers combined." 

percy shakes his head. “but — but you can’t just make last minute changes. we’ve already got everything set. right, valdez?”

leo shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of chicken before responding. “i don’t know, man. i’m no expert in quests, but it seems like i’m not the one who should be deciding this.” leo looks at you, and you nod gratefully.

you've been on edge since last night, and to calm your nerves you fiddle with the gold chain around your neck. it was a gift from your father: a necklace with a music note charm that can transform into an electric guitar or a bow and quiver. thankfully, you hadn't had to need both at the same time.

“it's up to me. and i want leo and jason to come with me.”

“then i’ll come too,” percy's voice remains calm, but insistant.

“isn’t there that thing about quests usually being done in threes?”

“that is true, piper,” percy agrees. he tilts his head towards you, like he's calling on you to remember. "exceptions have been made, though. like that one time with zoe." that had been years ago, when demigods from camp half-blood and hunters of artemis joined forces. five had been sent out on a quest, but only three came back. you shiver at the thought.

"or my quest through the labyrinth," annabeth recalls.

"but won't that also change our other plans, though?" hazel asks.

"not necessarily," you pipe in, your voice more assertive. "if jason and percy just switch. no harm done."

"we're not interchangeable," percy grumbles.

"hera sure seemed to think so!" leo searches the room for positive responses to his joke, but the most he gets is a half-hearted laugh from frank. "too soon?"

you take a deep breath. "it's not a big deal, really."

"it kind of is," percy counters. "you've never gone on a quest without me."

"you've gone on quests without me," you point out.

"that's...that's different."

"why? because i'm so weak that i need the son of the sea god to protect me at all times?"

you're giving percy the coldest stare you ever have. he hesitates to hold your gaze.

"you know that's not what i meant," he sighs.

"then what did you mean?"

percy looks at you, his eyes and tone softer. “look, sunshine, let's just stick with the plan, alright? we can just —”

“gods, you never listen, do you?" you finally snap. "you're not coming! i don’t want you there, percy!”

percy stares at you, stunned. you look around the table, and everyone looks back at you, wide-eyed. they weren’t used to this side of you, your sudden outburst not fitting in with your usually sunny disposition. 

“well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” leo jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, with less than ideal results.

“you saw something in your dreams, didn’t you?” annabeth realizes. 

her conclusion makes you freeze.

demigod dreams are always significant, carrying vivid images of monsters, messages from friends or enemies. some children of apollo like you had visions of the future — pseudo prophecies that are supposedly set to unfold given the path you’re on. technically, you weren’t supposed to share your visions, something about messing with fate or destiny, but that didn’t mean you had to accept the way things were. 

what you saw in your dreams last night, what might happen to percy, made your blood run cold.

you would defy all the laws of the universe and divine rules if it meant you could protect him. so fuck the path the fates are attempting to lead you down, and fuck prophetic dreams. you refuse to let percy die. no matter how frustrated you’re acting towards him in this moment, you know he would still do the same for you.

you figure that the future isn't written in stone, right?

either way, you're willing to challenge destiny for percy jackson.

without answering annabeth, you get up from the table and take a deep breath, carefully avoiding percy’s gaze. 

“i go with leo and jason, or i go alone.” your voice is steady, fighting the heavy beating of your heart and tears caught in your throat. “either way, i leave in the morning.” you exit the mess hall before anyone — before percy — can protest.

[demigods-posts]

something that'll always get to me is rachel and annabeth are friends. rachel split with percy and befriended his girlfriend. and all of that must be complicated. and confusing. and messy. like. imagine the possibilities.

[vaguely-concerned]

Thinking about the symbolic weight of smoking in the TLT universe that comes to the fore in The Unwanted Guest -- the way it moves through from person to person: Pyrrha smoked, and Augustine wanted to impress her in all her stone cold fox MILF James Bond glory (and tbf who wouldn't) so he started too. and even though as far as he knows she's been gone for a myriad and is never coming back, he keeps the habit. Ianthe sees something in the hollowed-out Faberge eggshell of Augustine that resonates with her, all that gilded eloquent emptiness and disdain through the ages, so she picked it up from him to try to emulate it. She picked it up so hard that Palamedes -- the exact spiritual antithesis of the 'smoking! on a space station! what a powermove' ennui Ianthe so admired -- spontaneously unnerded enough to even known how to, simply from a sort of contact contamination of the soul.

G1deon and Augustine sharing a jittery smoke after their near-Harrow experience during soup night, and it's the closest thing to any real sense of brotherhood that remains between them. Pyrrha going ten thousand years dying both literally and for a smoke (and then Camilla sold her fucking cigarettes (for a third of what they were worth, probably Pyrrha's own good, and also more importantly grocery money). what an entirely haunted time to be alive etc.). Augustine and Mercy trading a cigarette back and forth in the middle of their collusion over the love and murder of god.

An act of small and measured self-destruction in the name of something a little bit like connection when you're stuck somewhere in yourself where love itself dares not or cannot tread (ritualized, transmissible)..........

[backpackingspace]

Headcanon that most demon royalty goes to some fancy private/finishing school. But that Stolas was homeschooled with a private tutor. It was one of the very very few requests his dad granted him and for years it was a tressure memory, one of the few times he /got to choose/ one of the few times his dad /listened/ to him. Only to realize when he enters society that it was another isolation tactic. That everybody had already spent years forming social alliances and building their reputations and social credit. And that there was no room for him to break into those circles, that he /did not know/ the proper unspoken social rules. That his wife has spent years building her clout and that he is once again. Alone.

[swhatever]

having miguel o’hara thots right now

more specifically sub miguel

miguel o’hara. the spider-man 2099, the leader of the spider society, stopping multiversal threats everywhere, coming home and getting on his knees for you.

his colossal form, begging, whimpering on his knees for just a taste because baby you wont even have to do anything just enjoy it please because hes so desperate for you that even just the scent of you would make him go insane. hes so lovesick that youre in control without even trying.

sub!miguel biting your shoulder to quiet his whimpers because you dont want to wake the neighbours do you sweet boy? even though youre barely even touching him and he already feels like hes losing his mind.

sub!miguel letting it slip during sex that you control him and it takes everything in you to keep your composure because damn you knew you had an effect on him but by that much? the advantage is not lost on you by any means

sub!miguel switching to spanglish when hes desperately overwhelmed because he just cant think anymore because its just so much, maam, cant take it

sub!miguel desperate for you at any given moment

GOOD LORD 🗣️🗣️🗣️

[blaithnne]

If you look at my Lauren art chronologically you can pinpoint the exact moment I truly fell in love with big noses

[dark-elf-writes]

I’ve been having a lot of thoughts of healing my inner child by writing original fiction again but the problem is everything I want to write is like holding up a mirror to very specific circumstances that if put to paper would be seen as too ridiculous or like signing my full legal name and social security number in blood and leaving a fingerprint behind for good measure… you know?

[theflyingfeeling]

💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

.

PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

~

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia. 

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him. 

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him. 

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet. 

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself. 

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.

[sleepyslag]

Loved your fic sm!!! Already devoured it & shared it with the fellow omega Phil lovers in my life hehe I may or may not have screechingly slipped into some dms <3

- shiwisins

Ahh thank you!! I'm so glad it's reaching the omega Phil fans <3