#one more tag to hide the spoilers just in case

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Yuutsum 1

SUMMARY: What if you also have a Tsum? Then your Tsum and the Tsum of the person you like keep giving signs that they like each other?

CHARACTERS: Twisted Tsumderland 1 Tsumsitters (Riddle; Cater; Leona; Jack; Floyd; Epel; Sebek)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader 

WARNING: Spoilers for the Twisted Tsumderland Event and the Tsumsitter cards Vignettes.

WORD COUNT: An average of 600 words per character.

COMMENTS: This was originally a request from @taruruchi for my 1k celebration. Which you can read here. And since so many readers liked it, I decided to do what I normally do when this happens: Do this for ALL the characters! Grouped by event in this case.

The beginning of the Riddle's part is the same as in the request, but I added a little bit more scenario after that.

I hope you enjoy 😉

Yuutsum 2 (Deuce; Azul; Jade; Kalim; Rook; Ortho; Lilia)

Yuutsum 3 (after going to the English server)

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With your Tsum in your arms, you find Ace and Deuce, leaning over with their hands on their knees as if they were catching their breath after a run. They look at you first, but quickly the cute little creature you hold in your arms catches their attention. They both have that look on their faces like they think it's the cutest and most beautiful little thing in the world but don't want to admit it.

They say that Riddle also has one of those and it was the one they were chasing and trying to catch, but they lost it. The moment they said Riddle’s name, you felt your Tsum move enthusiastically for a moment.

They hear something, when they look they see Riddle-tsum in the distance and run towards it, starting the chase again. Your Tsum jumps out of your arms and runs with them, which makes you run after them too.

Your Tsum passes Ace and Deuce, which surprises them because they were so fast, and throws itself at Riddle-tsum, rolling together for a few seconds until they both stop. When this happened, Riddle-tsum didn't run away again, and the two were rubbing each other's cheeks happily.

Ace grabbed Riddle-tsum while it was distracted. It seemed upset about being caught. But the moment Deuce grabbed your Tsum that upsetness turn into anger. Riddle-tsum jumped out of Ace's arms, hits him in the face and threw itself right in Deuce's face to make him release your Tsum. Once back on the ground, Riddle-tsum positioned itself between your Tsum and those two, glaring threateningly at Ace and Deuce.

Once again, it doesn't run away. You finally get close to them and approach the tsums. When Riddle-tsum sees you it relaxes again and looks at you with admiration. As if looking at a royalty.

Ace and Deuce suggest that you try taking them both to Heartslabyul, as Riddle-tsum doesn't seem to like either of them. They were small enough for you to be able to carry them both in your arms without any problems.

You take them both in your arms and Riddle-tsum immediately turns red. It looked like a tomato in white clothes, and it writhed as if it wanted to hide in your arms in embarrassment. When you arrive at Heartslabyul, Riddle-tsum's blush had already subsided.

“Ah, prefect.” Riddle says when he sees you, Ace and Deuce arriving. “I see you were the one who managed to catch...” He looks at your arms to see his tsum, but his gaze automatically goes to your tsum instead. “Oh, there is one similar to you too. It looks... as charming as you.” he blushes just a little.

After explaining how you three caught Riddle-tsum, Ace suggests that they leave you and your Tsum with Riddle-tsum to prevent it from escaping again or causing trouble. Or hurt someone else. Riddle hesitates at first, as he is the one responsible for taking care of his tsum, but soon after, Riddle-tsum hits a student for breaking some rule and Riddle starts arguing with it so he stops attacking others.

You place a hand on Riddle's shoulder to try to calm him down a little and at that moment both of your attention went to your tsums. Your Tsum was between you and Riddle-tsum.

“You know, they remind me of the hedgehogs in a way.” Riddle says “And now they are reminding me of when they come closer to smell each other or to rub each other's noses. I can't deny that I find it quite cute whenever they do it.”

And then your Tsum starts rubbing its little round nose against Riddle-tsum's and caressing it to calm it down. And it works. It returns the affection by staying very close to your Tsum.

Riddle blushes a little again, and says that, reconsidering Ace's suggestion and if you want, you could take care of your tsums together.

You were walking with your Tsum in your arms when you saw Cater and his Tsum on Main Street. Cater-tsum seemed to be curled defensively around something Cater was trying to retrieve.

“Look, you can't have it, okay?!” You hear Carter say to his Tsum as you get close to them.

You greet him by asking what they are doing. Cater gives you a quick glance before turning his attention back to Cater-tsum, as if he's afraid that if he looks away it'll escape.

“Hey, (Y/N)-chan! I'm trying to get my-” He quickly looks back at you, more specifically at the adorable little thing you have in your arms. “Oh!... My!... Great Seven!” He turns his body towards you, his gaze so fixed on your Tsum that he doesn't even blink. “YOU HAVE A TSUMMY TOO! And it's the most adorable little thing I've ever seen in my life!”

Suddenly you both got jumpscared as something jumps towards you. It was Cater-tsum jumping into your arms! Despite the scare, you manage to catch it and it starts to nestle into your arms and cuddle your Tsum. Cater looks at the floor where Tsum was and sees his cell phone left behind. He retrieves it.

“We HAVE to take a pic of them!” Cater says excitedly “No! We have to do a whole photoshoot! Here! It's a great place to start.”

If you like taking pictures, your Tsum will be very excited. If you are shy, your Tsum will turn around to hide its face in your arms.

“Awwwww~ That’s even more adorable! Pwease! I beg you~" He says to your Tsum. Cater-tsum will also make pleading eyes at your Tsum.

The four of you spend a lot of time taking pictures in different places. Both pictures of the Tsums and of you with Cater. Until Cater and his Tsum have enough pictures to finally let you and your Tsum rest.

You sit on a bench, you with your Tsum on your lap and Cater with his Tsum on his lap, both of them editing photos on his cell phone. However, you feel your Tsum move and leave your lap to headbutt Cater's hand that was holding the cell phone, making it fall against his belly. After that, your tsum just stands there looking at Cater-tsum with a slightly annoyed look. Cater-tsum smiles with its tiny eyes and jumps against your tsum so they can cuddle each other.

Cater looks at the Tsums protecting the cell phone against his chest, watches them for a moment and then looks at you.

“Hey, if you want to do the same, just need to ask, you know~?” Cater says and winks at you.

If you accept, he'll put an arm around your shoulders and edit the photos with you, while your two Tsums cuddle on your laps.

Your Tsum was restless, impatient. It really wanted to go somewhere. So you pick it up and walk around campus trying to understand where it wants to go. Fortunately you don't need to walk far, as the botanical garden is one of the closest points to Ramshackle Dorm.

As soon as you enter, your tsum jumps out of your arms and starts jumping (its way of running) somewhere in the middle of some bushes. And you know that spot well. As soon as you stop seeing it, you hear a patient growl.

“Another one?” You hear Leona's voice. “Hey! What do you think you're doing?!” You follow the voice, pass through the bushes and see Leona lying down with two tsums on top of his torso. Your Tsum and Leona-tsum, cuddled up like two cats sleeping with each other.

“Herbivore, get your stuffie thing out of here and take the one that looks like me with you too. I'm not a nest to have two pesky armadillos sleeping on top of me!”

You kneel down next to him, looking at Leona-tsum with that “HE’S SO CUTE!” twinkle in your eyes. Leona-tsum looks at you and its sleepy eyes suddenly open, almost bulging. And it jumps onto your chest, knowing you would catch it.

“You got one.” Leona said. “Just one more to-” He interrupted himself, looking at his chest and seeing your tsum rising until it approached his face.

If you look at his face, you will see Leona's pupils dilating. And your tsum snuggling against his chest. You comment that you don't think your tsum will want to leave his side.

“Why don't you walk away with that one and see what happens? Maybe yours will follow.”

You are also curious to know what would happen. Leona-tsum was already sleeping in your arms.

You walk away with it, towards the exit of the botanical garden. Halfway there it wakes up and you feel it move in your arms. You stop and look at it. It seemed to have an annoyed look on its face, very similar to what Leona does when things aren't going according to his plans. You open your mouth to say or ask something, but it's Leona's voice that can be heard throughout the botanical garden.

“OI!” You hear Leona growl in annoyance. “Who do you think you are demanding anythin’ from me?!” And then you hear him roar.

You come back with Leona-tsum in your arms, and you find your tsum pulling one of Leona's braids towards you as if it wanted to force him to come to you.

“This thing really takes after you.” he comments, in a tone reminiscent of a father irritated with a child he deep down loves.

Leona-tsum jumps out of your arms and lazily approaches your tsum. Your tsum lets go of Leona's braid.

You both see Leona-tsum rubbing its cheek on your Tsum's cheek, and making a movement as if it was licking your Tsum's face. After calming your tsum down, the two of them curl up to sleep together.

“Well, at least they're not bothering me anymore.” Leona says. He closes his eyes, but right after, he opens one of them again to look at you. “If you're also going to stay here with your stuffie thing, at least be useful. This floor isn't the best pillow, you know?” He makes that gesture for you to come closer with his index finger.

And if you let him use your lap to lie down, he will fall asleep in 3 seconds, just like his Tsum did.

You were in the Ramshackle Dorm Lounge with your Tsum and Grim was in your bedroom, probably taking a nap after eating too much, when you hear someone knocking at the door. You go open the door, leaving your Tsum on the couch. You do it and see Jack.

“Hi (Y/N). Sorry to bother you, but this Tsum-” Before Jack could finish his sentence, you saw something near your feet come barreling through the door. You look back in time to see Jack-tsum turn to enter the Lounge. “Ah! Sorry. It won't sit still. Let's catch it before it does any damage.”

The two of you go to the lounge and stop right at the entrance. Jack-tsum was on the couch with your Tsum. Jack-tsum was jumping around your Tsum, its little tail wagging like crazy, and its eyes shining while also rubbing its face against your Tsum’s as if licking it. It was just like a puppy wanting to play.

“OI!” Jack shouted “Don't mess up (Y/N)'s couch!”

Jack-tsum sulked and your Tsum jumped from the couch to the floor. Jack-tsum followed it. Your Tsum approached Jack and smiled at him with its eyes, as if it were greeting him.

“Hum?” Jack’s ears pricked up as he looked down. “You also have a Tsum similar to you.” He didn't realize his tail had started wagging.

Jack-tsum followed your Tsum and you felt the need to bend down to see Jack-tsum up close. It looked at you with big bright eyes and its tail wagging wildly. You comment on how cute it is and reach out to pet it.

“Be careful.” Jack warns you “It doesn't let anyone...” You start to pet its head as it leans in your hand. “... touch it... What's the deal with this thing? Whenever anyone approached it would either move away or growl at them. How did you do that? I can't even catch it to take it to Savanaclaw.”

You say you don't know what you did either, if anything special. And you comment that it seems to like you. This makes Jack blush slightly.

“How would it not?” he says softly, and without meaning to. He clears his throat. “Um, do you mind if we stay here for a while? It seems to have finally settle down a bit.”

Your tsum goes to Jack-tsum's side and they both look at you as if begging you to say yes. You agree and the two Tsums bounce happily for a moment before they start running around the lounge together.

“OI! You two be careful!” Jack warns “Don't break or mess anything up, you hear?!”

You laugh and comment on how much you think Jack and his Tsum look alike.

“It's just the hair and the outfit.” he says a little embarrassed “Do I look round and soft?!”

“Round maybe not but soft...” You laugh and he blushes.

Before he could open his mouth to try to respond to that, the tsums started running towards you and ended up bump into you as they passed, which made you lose your balance. Jack catches you.

“What did I say?” he shouts to the tsums. He looks at you. "Are you okay?" in his arms, and he releases you, blushing a little. “Sorry about that.” he rubs the back of his neck. “It had never done this.”

“Maybe it was a bad influence.” you say and look at the Tsums. From the looks on their faces, especially your Tsum’s, it wasn't an accident.

You were walking down the Main Street with your Tsum in your arms when you hear footsteps running behind you, approaching quickly. You turn around in shock and see a very tall figure right in front of you. Then you realize it's Floyd.

“Boo~” Floyd smiles at you with something writhing violently in his arms. You look and see his Tsum trying to get free. You also notice, by the way he is holding Floyd-tsum, that he is using a lot of force. “Hi Koebi-chan~. Whatcha doin'~?” He sees something in your arms and looks to find your Tsum. “Woo! You have one too! And it looks so small and weak like you, how cute! He he.”

(What you don't know is that what really happened was that Floyd-tsum was loose and took off running when it saw you. The footsteps you heard were Floyd running to catch it before Floyd-tsum caught you first.)

Your Tsum made a sulky face, while Floyd-tsum continued to struggle in Floyd's arms. You say Floyd-tsum is also very cute, it stops and looks at you with smiling little eyes.

“Do you wanna play with it?” Floyd asks and you say yes. “Sure, but careful how you handle it. It’s easy to set this guy-” The moment he let his arms go slack for a second, Floyd-tsum jumped into your arms.

With difficulty, but you managed to catch it without letting your tsum fall. Now you had them both in your arms. You saw it squeezing your tsum while it snuggled into your arms. However, your tsum didn't seem uncomfortable, quite the opposite, it felt like a passionate everyday hug.

Between letting Floyd-tsum jump out of his arms, until realizing that it wouldn't hurt you, Floyd stared at his Tsum with that serious face that all students who know him the least bit fear.

“Aw~ Aren't they cute together?” he says with his usual relaxed expression. He sees that you are having difficulty holding both tsums. “Let them go. They can walk on their own. Or hop, I guess.”

You do so. The two Tsums land on the ground and Floyd-tsum jumps up to continue hugging your Tsum. But before it can, Floyd quickly picks up your Tsum in his arms and starts squeezing it too.

“MY TURN!” Floyd says to his Tsum.

This one sulks, looks at you and jumps back towards you. You catch it and it hugs your forearm. You and Floyd laugh, until the pressure in your arm starts to increase to the point where it starts to hurt. The moment you grimace, Floyd's expression changes, he lets go of your tsum and rips his off your arm.

“I warned you.” he says to his tsum, with the same face he uses to threaten students who don't pay Azul. “Someone is not keeping their side of the deal.”

Floyd-tsum manages to escape and hugs your tsum again, but without hurting it. Floyd looks at you, who looks slightly sad, and sees you rubbing the forearm that Tsum was squeezing. He holds your wrist to see better. There is a slight reddish mark. He lets go of your wrist, turns to the Tsums and lifts his foot as if to step on his tsum. Before you could stop him, your tsum does it, getting out of Floyd-tsum's embrace and positioning itself between it and Floyd's sole when he was about to hit his Tsum. He looks at your tsum's fearless face for a moment and laughs heartily.

“HA HA HA HA! It also takes after you, Koebi-chan~” He puts his foot back on the ground and turns back to you. “We were going to Mostro Lounge. Do you want to come?”

With your Tsum in your arms, you were walking down Main Street when you heard a scream. It sounded like someone was being attacked by a dog or something. You follow the sound and see Epel, another Pomefiore student, and an Epel-tsum attacking this student while Epel tries to stop it.

Your tsum jumps out of your arms and runs (or hops) towards them until it stops between Epel-tsum and the student, preventing the tsum from attacking him again. And then, your tsum headbutted Epel-tsum so hard that it even knocked it upside down for a moment. Enough time for Epel to catch it. The other student runs away and Epel-tsum begins to struggle in Epel's arms.

“Stop it!” Epel complained “Ya can't go aroun´ attackin´ students!”

You approach them asking if everything is okay and if he needs help. Epel-tsum stops and looks at you. You smile when you see that Epel also has a tsum and comment on how cute it is (like any tsum).

“No! Don't call it that!” The Tsum manages to jump out of Epel's arms and towards you.

He panics, but instead of the Tsum hitting you, it lands in your arms and just looks at you with a sulky face. You say it's still being cute, and once again, instead of it attacking you, its little face turns red with blush.

Epel freezes, completely confused for a moment until he thinks about what could be the possible reason for you being the only person who called the Tsum cute and it didn't attack. And when he thinks of the most likely reason, he also blushes.

Your tsum also jumped into Epel's arms, surprising him. It smiles at him with its cute little eyes and his blush deepens. Your voice is the only thing that makes Epel look away from your Tsum, asking if you could accompany him and his Tsum if they were going to Pomefiore.

In his dorm, needless to say, Rook wasted no time praising the Tsums, both Epel's and yours. But since Epel's Tsum didn't seem to appreciate the comments very much, especially if they focused on the fact that it was cute, Rook ended up turning his attention to your Tsum, which ended up bothering Epel's Tsum even more.

“It looks like someone is jaloux.” Rook says smiling amused.

That was the only thing that made Epel-tsum throw itself at him, to attack. Rook dodged it like a bullfighter with the grace of someone who was expecting it. Epel panicked and quickly picked up his tsum and apologized to Rook.

“There is no reason to apologize, Monsieur Pommette.” Rook says, loving the situation more than he should. “Truly. I must confess that my provocation was premeditated. C'est tellement beau to see your true feelings and emotions through your Tsum's lack of filter.”

“WHA-?! WHAT IS THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!”

Rook just laughs, winks at Epel and starts walking towards the door. Halfway there he passes you, leans over and whispers in your ear: “Could you tame the little beast for us, Trickster?” and leaves.

Epel's Tsum struggled in his arms, angry... with jealousy.

Your Tsum was restless, impatient. It really wanted to go somewhere. So you pick it up and walk around campus trying to understand where it wants to go. You leave Ramshackle Dorm, pass the Botanical Garden and the Alchemy Workshop and arrive at the Hall of Mirrors.

As soon as you enter, your Tsum escapes from your arms and quickly jumps until it enters the mirror to Diasmonia. You follow it, but you realize that you lost sight of it the moment it passed through the mirror.

“Good afternoon, (Y/N)!” Lilia is the first to come and greet you. “To what do we owe such a wonderful surprise visit?”

You tell him about your tsum.

“Ah yes! Sebek also has a cute little lookalike. I can't wait to see yours. Although if it's as adorable or even more adorable than you, we're going to have a cuteness overdose problem in this dorm. Khe he. Well, from what I understand, and despite Sebek denying it, the personality of these tsums is very similar to the personality of those they physically resemble. So if your tsum wanted to come here, where do you think it would have gone? Where would you want to go?”

You don't think about a ‘where’ but rather a ‘who’ and that may have shown on your face, beacuse Lilia laughs amusedly.

“So maybe your tsum went to meet someone? Maybe a fellow tsum? Khe he he. I suggest we look for Malleus. Wherever he is, Sebek and Silver will be there too.”

The two of you head to the lounge, but before you get there you can already hear all the commotion. Aka: Sebek’s thunderous voice.

“Don't look at me like that! No matter who your looks resemble, you're bothering Malleus-sama and meddling in our, I mean my guard duties!”

“Actually,” You hear Malleus's patient voice say. “I am quite enjoying this little one's presence. It's as pleasant as (Y/N)'s own presence. Wouldn't you agree, Sebek?”

“HM?! Yes! Of course sir! Please forgive me for implying that this Tsum's presence was inconvenient.”

You and Lilia arrive at the lounge and approach those two. Sebek, as expected, was standing very straight next to Malleus, who was sitting in one of the sofas. Coming closer, you see that both your Tsum and Sebek's Tsum are in Malleus' lap. And Sebek-tsum looked like it was... about to cry?

“AWW~ Look at you.” Lilia said, your Tsum turned to him. “You are even cuter than I imagined. *sigh* What an unfair competition.”

The moment Sebek-tsum sees you is when it finally starts crying.

“HUM?! What is wrong with you?” Sebek inquires. “You are such a strange creature.”

“I think it's too much emotion to see so many people it likes together.” Lilia says with a smirk.

“W-Well, regardless, it should learn to control itself!”

You come closer, worried about Sebek-tsum, and ask if it would like a hug to feel better. It looks at you, then at Malleus, back at you, Malleus, you, Malleus, and on until it almost gets dizzy and the indecision seems to make it more sad.

“I think I have an idea.” Malleus says. “(Y/N), would you like to sit next to me?”

You sit down, he asks you to come closer until your thighs touch, so he can place Sebek-tsum on both of your laps at the same time. It, still in tears, seemed to be thanking Malleus with his eyes and head.

“How intelligent and generous, my liege!” Even Sebek himself had a tear in the corner of his eye.

He was about to continue his praise when your Tsum jumped from Malleus' lap into Sebek's hands. He caught it as if he was saving it from a fall. It looked at him and smiled with its eyes.

“How precious.” He said with a tender smile, as he was still emotional about Malleus's act. Then he realized what he had just said and blushed in embarrassment. But he didn't stop holding your Tsum.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Cupid Walks Right.

Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

Summary: You've been hiding your attraction to your coworker for a long time, until a few pictures of him kissing a celebrity in a pool unleash emotions you can't control.

Words: 1,6k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. mentions of crime and arms. spoilers for s1 e18 ("somebody's watching"). hurt+comfort. two idiots in love. lots of jealousy. fluff. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: The reader is simply me every time I watch that episode but with a lot more drama to make it interesting.

One bullet after another hit the paper meters away from you, with each shot more accurate than the previous one. You had lost count of how many cartridges you had already spent because your mind was full of thoughts that only the sound of the shots echoing in the shooting room managed to silence and give you back a little control of the situation.

Memories of one of the last cases still lingered in your mind, and you couldn't understand why. It hadn't even been something relevant enough to stick in your mind that much, it was just a crazy stalker obsessed with a celebrity and more of the same old same old in terms of creating a profile. It was nothing you hadn't seen before, and it had ended well, with a happy ending that included Spencer kissing the victim he was supposed to be protecting.

That was the crux of the issue, the root of your problem.

You saw some photos that captured the moment in vivid detail and wanted to run out and throw up in the nearest trash can. You held back to avoid answering embarrassing questions, blaming your bad feelings on the last thing you ate and insisting that you were just satisfying your curiosity. But as they say, curiosity always kills the cat.

Maybe it was because it was unprofessional and unnecessary, maybe you were in a bad mood and needed to relax, maybe you were upset that the guy with the germ problem had shared saliva with a stranger, maybe you didn't like Lila Archer because of her performances, or maybe you just wanted to be in her shoes and have him kiss you like that. And for heaven's sake, maybe you've had a few inappropriate dreams about it lately.

You were just about to fire again to get the thoughts out of your mind when someone tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around, ready to defend yourself with the gun in your hand.

“Wait, wait, it's me. I'm sorry.” Spencer raised his arms in a sign of peace and took a few steps back. “Just me.”

“What are you doing here? You scared me.” You lowered the gun and placed it on the table, trying to sound less abrupt. “I thought everyone had gone home.”

He approached you again, checking the open shells and the pile of bullets on the ground. He was quite surprised to see how many times you had hit the target with perfect shots, and how you still seemed intent on continuing, even though it was almost two in the morning. It wasn't practice, because you didn't need it, it was something else, and you seemed quite angry about it.

“I spent the hour going through some papers and saw the light on in here. I thought I'd come and have a look.” He explained, trying to follow your gaze, which seemed to elude his. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, perfect.”

You started gathering your things and cleaning up the space you'd been using, planning to leave as soon as possible because of his presence. It had been weeks since you'd been alone with him because you'd managed to avoid seeing him as best you could. You'd even managed to convince Hotch that it was time for him to pair you up with someone else during the cases to experiment. You didn't even know why he'd listened to you, but it had been a great relief.

“You're leaving already?” Spencer asked, and you just nodded. “Can I take you home?”

Usually he drove you home, because your car was still at the mechanic and you refused to buy a new one. You always used the minutes you spent together to talk about something other than cases, they were moments of relaxation that you both appreciated. The big difference was that now you couldn't afford that luxury without feeling strange.

“Don't worry, I'll call a taxi.” You grabbed your jacket from a nearby locker. “I'm fine.” You added, with the intention of heading for the door until he stopped you by the wrist.

“Is everything okay...between us?” He asked as you looked up to meet his eyes. “Are you mad at me?”

“I'm sorry, what?” You said, feigning confusion. You always knew it was only a matter of time before he figured something was off with you. After all, he worked in profiling.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked again, in a lower voice, sounding a little more vulnerable than he'd intended. That instantly made you feel bad, you didn't want to hurt him with your confusion.

“No.”

He let out a sigh at your automatic response. His shoulders slumped a bit, and he felt a wave of relief for a few seconds. But then he looked into your eyes for a moment and hesitated, biting his lower lip.

“So...why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, sounding a little shy and with a hint of apprehension in his voice. “Or not looking at me at all.”

“I'm not doing anything.” You make excuses.

He got the chills when he heard your voice, which came across as cold and distant.

“You're giving me that look.”

You gave a little frown and folded your arms, as if to say you didn't agree.

“What look?"

“You look at me like I've done something wrong, like you're disappointed or angry...I think both. You barely look me in the eye, you walk away every time I want to talk to you, you don't sit near me on the jet or want to work with me anymore. And you've been like this for a week.” He paused for a second, remembering when your strange behavior started. “Ever since the L.A. case.”

The room was suddenly filled with silence and a palpable tension. You had been foolish to think Spencer wouldn't notice your remoteness, given his perceptive nature. But you didn't have a choice. You didn't want to appear jealous when you didn't even have feelings for him, you were just ovulating or something like that.

“Is it because...because of Lila? I heard Morgan say some things, and you haven't treated me the same since.” His wavering voice sounded more and more confident, as if he still had to convince himself of his point of view. “I want to know what you think, please.”

You could only curse Derek for exposing you like that. He was the only one who knew about your strange attraction to Reid because he had caught you looking at him several times and you had confessed it to him once in a bar after several drinks and a ridiculous game of cross questions. Since that night, the jokes and suggestions about making out with Spencer under a tree had begun.

But a beautiful actress did it before you, in her pool, with lots of pictures to prove it.

“I'm not one to tell you what to do, but I think your actions were unprofessional and most of all risky.” You spoke after a few seconds, clearing your throat and trying to contain the burning you felt. “It could have ended badly.”

Come on, you would have done the same thing. You often thought about what it would be like to kiss him in the middle of an investigation, especially when he kept giving important details. So you were a little hypocritical.

“I'm only saying that because I care about you.” You added, noticing how confused he looked.

“I know, I care about you too.” He replied calmly, taking a step toward you to touch your arm. “This has been bothering you?”

You froze at his warm touch and the implications you thought he was making about you, nodding as if hypnotized. Had he realized that you had been jealous all along? That you wanted to go back so he could kiss you and not her? That you wanted him to put his hands on your cheeks and kiss you deeply until you were breathless?

“I think I understand, but don't worry about me. I won't do anything dangerous anymore.”

Oh, he hadn't noticed.

Spencer really thought that you were just concerned about his safety because he was your friend and your partner on cases, that you were just frustrated that you weren't there to back him up in case things went wrong. It didn't even occur to him that it was something much deeper and more heated than that.

“So, all good?” He gave you a small smile that made your heart beat a little faster.

“Sure.” You lied, with a strange lump in your throat at the guarded words. “I just didn't know you liked blondes.” You added in a fake teasing tone.

Despite your clearly suspicious tone, Spencer laughed sheepishly. “Actually, I like your hair color.”

A strange bubbling sensation reached your stomach and made you smile.

“Mine?” You asked, lowering your gaze to the floor.

“Yes, it's like it's perfect for you.” He carefully brushed your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, causing the feeling in your stomach to identify itself as butterflies fluttering nonstop.

“You're telling me because I have a gun?” You tried to change the subject with a nervous laugh. “I'm not a celebrity, after all.”

“You don't have to be one to be as pretty as you are. But you could be if you wanted to, and...” He started to talk about statistics and a bunch of data you didn't even know, but strangely enough you didn't listen to him this time because you were stuck on the first sentence.

Spencer really thought you were pretty.

It was only then that you realized something had changed. The only successful shot had been Cupid's arrow to your heart.

Because, damn it, you were totally in love with that man.

[creepsterdreams]

Touchstarved HC's + mini-scenarios: The LI's as dads/parents, gn!MC

Content warnings: in certain parts it will mention MC being pregnant but I will tag that as “pregnant!MC” but other than that you can imagine the children are adopted :>, a bit of suggestive content(especially around Kuras’s), mention of vomit in Vere’s part, mention of manipulation in Leander’s part, overwhelming wholesomeness

Word count: 7.8k

Author’s note: I ended up loving this way more than I thought I did and I kinda want to turn this into a little mini-series so if you have any asks related to them as dads please feel free to send them! ^-^

AIS

In full honesty I can see this man having a big family, he won’t admit it, but he would love having a lot of kids 

Like I’m talking 6 kids, MINIMUM 

For Pregnant!MC: But even after that when you were 8 months pregnant with the 6th one he was asking when could you both “get to work” again and you lowkey had to threaten to cut his balls off(starting to think he might have a breeding kink)

But now to the babies themselves 

I lean more towards girl dad!Ais heavily but I also feel like he would be an amazing dad to some little boys, so with that said, I would say he has

Twin boys as the eldest(most likely ages 8-9)

A girl(6)

Another girl(4)

And one more girl(3)

One more boy(8 months)

Yea I know, a lot of babies 

He definitely used the excuse that the temple is big enough for all you when you asked how are you gonna take care of all of them

He wouldn’t tell you but he would thoroughly enjoy the times when he returns home and hears the sound of giggling and small feet running around 

With his little boys he is very playful and sometimes you have to tell him to chill on the roughhousing(the boys never mind it honestly)

Like if he’s not with you, out somewhere, with the girls, or whatever else he’s with them wrestling as if his life depended on it 

Meanwhile the youngest boy is just sitting there, giggling and clapping watching his dad and brothers fight 

Lowkey can barley cook for shit but dw, he’s more than happy to spend god knows how much money(or steal if we’re being honest) on food from restaurants in Eridia 

O m g he literally spoils his little girls to death(he spoils the boys too dw) 

Yes he has limits on what he can do or buy, yes he is fully aware that he can say no, but can you resist those adorable little puppy eyes?

Everytime you send him out and they go with him, he returns with what you wanted, but at least 5 other bags with him(spoiler alert they all belonged to the girls)

Whenever you confront him for it he just looks at you and sends his most innocent smile “I know I could’ve said no sparrow, but look at those faces? How can I resist that?”

Vere sometimes visits (Visits as in randomly walks in whenever he pleases) and plays with the kiddos, often giving you and Ais enough time to leave and spend some “alone time” together in Lowtown. He pretends he’s annoyed by them but you and Ais both know he’ll die for those kids. 

Honestly if anything you both expected them to be afraid of Vere but given that you have Princess as the family pet and live in the wastelands they have better things to be scared of

I’m sorry but his smoking habits do not go away even when he has kids T^T

He simply just learns to hide it better 

Aka he only does it when he’s away from them or their asleep and in the case where they catch him he throws it not giving a fuck where it could’ve landed 

Would most def give his kids names of japanese origin I’m sorry you cannot argue with me on this 

Moving on to the serious bits 

He has one huge rule that all the kiddos have to follow no matter what 

“Under absolutely no circumstance do you go near the sea spring.”

Ais specifically made it a priority to have your “house” parts of the temple far from it so they would never need a reason to go there

But unfortunately these are small children we’re talking about so of course their curiosity gets the best of them

The oldest twin was wandering around one day and stumbled upon it, voice began echoing in his head, luring him closer to the deadly waters. And just as he leaned down and was about to drink the mysterious liquid, a roaring voice yelling his name ripped him away from the waters 

Ais had never experienced pure terror so intense as he had then, and he never wants to feel that again(Ocedus lowkey took over for a moment when he was scolding the kiddo but he would never know that)

But moving on from the angst 

One of the best dads, genuinely 

He raises his boys to be strong but also knows it’s okay to have bad moments, and no one will judge you for them. But he also raises his young girls to be the same way, but he’s just a “tad” bit more protective of them. 

This demon loves his big family so much and wouldn’t trade them for anything

You and Ais were both laying down in your shared bed, you cuddled up against his chest while his arm was wrapped around you. You both were enjoying some time of relaxation in the early morning before any of the kids woke up, because unfortunately you knew once one was awake, the rest will all come piling out of their shared room in due time.

After a few minutes, Ais’s face pulls into a soft smirk, sighing sarcastically before looking down at you.

“Here comes trouble.”

Whelp, shit 

That’s when all of the sudden, the sound of rapid footsteps came racing, and then you and Ais were being crushed by both of your sons.

“Papa! [preferred parents name]! Get uuuppp!” The eldest yelled at the two of you.

“Alright alright you little gremlins we’re coming.” Ais says while laughing before pulling both of his sons into a headlock.

But just as you were sitting up and getting ready to stand, that’s when two of your daughters came racing, screaming for you and Ais also jumping onto the futon. You catch the both of them and let out a surprised noise, holding them close to your chest. 

But finally, your oldest daughter walks in, carrying your youngest son in her arms while giggling. Ais notices the baby with her and raises his eyebrow.

“Sweetheart, what did we say about sneaking in here and taking your little brother?” 

She lets out another giggle, holding her brother closer while walking to you and Ais. “But he wanted to play with us! I know he did!” 

Ais then releases the two boys from his arms, quickly reaching over to grab your daughter and son and pull them onto his lap, before proceeding to tickle her.

You put down your other kids before leaning over to grab your son and coo at him as he reaches his small hands towards you.

Ais eventually stops tickling the young girl and lays down again with her in his arms, signaling over to you to lay down with them. Before you know it, you, Ais, and all of the kiddos are cuddling together while wrapped around blankets, guess whatever playing they were doing before coming here wore them out surprisingly fast.

As the kids all fell asleep once again, you and Ais remained awake for some more time. Peering up at him, you send him a small smile, basking in the comfort and warmth of the room. He looks right back at you with an expression that only can be described as loving, he leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, quiet whispers of “I love you” echoing through your ears.

He truly couldn’t ask for a better way to wake up.

LEANDER

Although I can definitely see him as a family man, I feel like Leander would like to have some space between when he has kids instead of rushing to have one after the other 

Getting A LOT of girl dad vibes from this man, he would love to have a little princess and you can’t tell me otherwise 

I can see him with one shy little one who’s always hiding behind her dad’s leg when he’s talking to people

He’s extremely extroverted and she’s the definition of an introvert so everyone’s wondering where she got it from(most likely you)

For pregnant!MC, he treated you like a god throughout the entirety of those 9 months. Even tho he was a bit disgusted by some of your cravings, he wanted to keep you happy

“Sure sweetheart of course I can get you cookies with a side of pickle juice ^-^”

He loves that little girl to death omg

As in whatever she wants, she gets

If she wants to have a tea party with him featuring some of the bloodhounds, guess what? Grab him a tiara and a tea cup that can barely fit in his hand

Unfortunately one of the issues that came with her was now he couldn’t spend as much time at the Wet Wick as he would’ve pleased, sure most of it was still gonna be spent there but how would he explain why he had a 6 year old with him at a bar?

 So that led to him eventually finding a home as close as possible to the damn place so at least he wouldn’t have to walk far(He asked the owner at first if he can actually have the spare room upstairs for all three of you and she almost banned him all together)

Loves taking her out on adventures in Lowtown and even has a little handmade bloodhound cloak made for her

I’m sorry for anyone who will find this cringe but he would unironically call her “babygirl”

I just get those kinda vibes 

Literally takes at least an hour once a day to teach her a little bit about magic because she wanted to be able to conjure her own flowers

Most of her wardrobe is filled with the nicest dresses and outfits money can buy(50% of the money is what he gets from jobs and the other 50% is whatever is left over from his allowance of when he was still living with family)

Aside from her shyness, she is literally a mini him 

You lost count of how many random small animals she’s brought home and begged to keep

“Honey I understand that it was hurt after falling off some boxes, but that is a soulless.”

On occasion you’ve caught her using the little bit of magic Leander taught her to make her stuffed animals walk around, but you thought the sight was so adorable you didn’t say anything about it

He has been singing her lullaby’s since she was a baby and it’s to a point where she can recall every lyric in a heartbeat

It makes him cry but he denies it everytime 

Seems like the kinda guy that would name her something like “Skylar”, “Rosemary”, “Magnolia”, or “Tallulah”

Definitely something that sounds beautiful or adventurous 

A little more angsty headcanons 

Giving that the biggest analysis we have of his character is that his whole kindness act is a facade and that a monster hides beneath that 

As she continues growing, Leander becomes increasingly more protective 

Sure she has other friends and most likely people she can spend time with, but how would Leander be able to keep an eye on her if he isn’t around?

Spoiler alert, he has bloodhounds follow her around and report everything back to him 

She’s out at the market with some besties getting food? Cool, he’ll pretend he didn’t already know that when she comes back home to tell him all about it

However, unfortunately, one of those bloodhounds couldn’t be careful enough and she found out 

Cue an hour long argument where she’s telling him she can protect herself and doesn’t need him stalking her

Cue him saying it’s to keep her safe and that she should be lucky he isn’t keeping her in the house 24/7(whoopsie the bad side slipped out a bit)

Eventually you have to step in and tell the both of them to relax and talk when they're both calm :( 

Back to the wholesomeness though

He genuinely cherishes her and always makes sure that she has whatever her heart desires 

But he also teaches her to protect those who can’t protect themselves 

But even after she grows into a strong fighter, at the end of the day she’ll always be his little girl

Leander was sitting at his desk, quietly filling out some paperwork after a long week of back to back jobs for the bloodhounds. He was exhausted, but there was work to be done. 

But as he was busy writing out some reports, the door to the small study opened, and in walked none other than his daughter, who was holding one of her many stuffed animals close to her chest.

“...Daddy?” She called out to him in a hushed tone. 

Leander quickly looked up from the paper, eyes drifting over to the small girl who was standing in the doorway. He sat the pen he was holding down and set the huge stack to the side. That all can wait, what was more important was making sure she was okay.

“Hey there baby girl, everything okay?” He stood up and walked over to her, crouching down so he was on her level.

She looked down at the floor shyly, trying to muster up the courage to continue talking. She hugged her teddy bear closer to her, hiding her face within its fur. “I can’t sleep..Can I stay with you?”

Leander’s face automatically lit up, and he shot her a wide grin. “Of course you can! Come on.” 

After saying that, Leander leans over to pick the little girl up, sliding his arm underneath her body so she can hang off of his side. He then walks back over to the desk, sitting down and adjusting her so she is now resting on his lap. 

“Comfortable?” 

She nodded slowly, snuggling closer into his arms so her head was now resting on his chest. 

Leander smiles down at her, wrapping his right arm tightly around her body so she is secure. But as Leander was about to return to his work, she spoke up yet again.

“Daddy? Can you sing that song from last night?”

Leander glanced down at her again before letting out a light chuckle, “If that’s what my princess wants.” 

Leander clears his throat and sits back in the chair, the little girl grinning in happiness as she hears the sound of her father’s voice beginning to echo throughout the room. 

Some time later you're wandering around the house, searching for your daughter. You wanted to check on her after putting her to bed some time ago, you were honestly beginning to feel worried as you hadn’t even heard her leave the bedroom. But then you remembered there was one place you hadn’t checked, Leander’s study. 

Taking light steps down the hall, you're eventually able to slowly open the door, and the sight you're greeted with almost brings you to tears. 

Leander is resting back against the chair, his arms securely wrapped around your little girl as if he’s trying to protect her from whatever might appear through the door, and head shifted to the side, facing her. Your daughter is laying across his lap with her head against his chest using it as a makeshift pillow, with her holding her teddy bear closely to her body. 

You smile warmly, using your hand to cover your mouth as you walk over to the two of them. Once you reach the chair, you lean down just enough to press a soft kiss on Leander’s head, using your right hand to caress his cheek and swipe some hair out of his face. You then do the same thing to your daughter, placing a kiss on the top of her head and readjusting her a bit so she won’t potentially slip out of his arms, although judging by how tight he’s holding on, you doubt it. 

After kissing them goodnight, you slowly walk towards the door again, not wanting to wake either of them. Before closing the door, you whisper a small “goodnight my loves”, and leave the two of them alone for the night. 

KURAS

The question we should be asking is can this man even have children?

He’s quite literally a biblical angel who has been alive for centuries. Are we sure he’s even fertile?????

We shall find out 

I feel like Kuras was very conflicted on the idea of children for a while, he’s a doctor who is constantly on the job and probably doesn’t have time for most personal pleasures 

But after a time where a panicked mother brought her son to the clinic because he was hurt while playing with some friends, he was considering some things

Seeing her worry so much for him, care so much about his safety that she ran god knows how many blocks to get here? It interested him 

Pregnant!MC, it honestly shocked you a few weeks later when Kuras confirmed you were in fact carrying his child. Mostly due to the fact that Kuras isn’t even remotely human

But alas, here you are

I can see Kuras as both a girl dad and a boy dad 

But I can see him with a little boy that is literally a carbon copy of him 

Pregnant!MC, you were very disappointed when you spent 9 months cooking him in your stomach just for him to pop out with only some of your features 

But if we’re talking adoption then the young boy just straight up snatches his entire personality and his intelligence 

Imagine going to the doctor’s clinic for a check up and you here him ask for some bandages but your confused since no one else is there

Just for a few seconds later a boy who looks no older than at least 10 comes into the room and hands him the bandages and leaves as if that exchange was completely normal 

I get the kind of vibes that he would name him something fancy sounding. Like “Emil” or “Alaster” 

Something that definitely rolls off the tongue nice 

But given that your son got his intelligence, that also means he got his sass 

You thought the reason your little boy was struggling to make friends his age was because his maturity level was a little too high for them, but turns out it was because he kept pulling pranks and roasting the absolute fuck out of them

So that led to you and Kuras having to sit him down and explain to make friends he had to be nice not give them a bottle of basically the equivalent of a fart bomb while lying and saying it was a “good smelling flower”

Of course he listened and was able to make some friends, but unfortunately, the pranks did not go away. He just only started doing them after he knew them for a while 

He definitely fake gags whenever he sees you and Kuras being affectionate with each other 

“Ewwww your basically swapping saliva”

The way he and Kuras get along is bonding over science 

Sitting around the clinic for hours going through different books and papers 

There have been occasions where you’ve came back and saw him passed out in Kuras’s arms because Kuras was reading a book about astronomy to him 

It was so wholesome you almost cried 

A bit of angst

Now we all know Kuras’s worst flaw is his lack of empathy 

It’s not that he doesn’t care at all, it’s just he struggles to understand other people’s emotions 

So this caused some conflict between him and his son :( 

It’s been theorized that whatever Kuras’s “true form” is, is something extremely similar to a biblical angel 

And with that we can guess if you had your son through biological means, that form passed to him as well (we love genetics)

There was a day where Kuras witnessed a crowd of people, adults and children all running away from a specific area. At first, he wondered if someone could’ve gotten injured, so that’s why he went straight in the opposite direction that everyone else was going. Unfortunately, someone was in fact injured, even more unfortunate, the cause of that said injury was his son. Someone had been bullying one of his friends and in a moment of anger from wanting to protect him he accidentally transformed. A day that Kuras wanted to be far from now 

(If your son is adopted then you can pretend that he just got mad and beat up the other kid and felt bad about the fact that he lost his cool)

So that led to Kuras having to carry the injured boy while you carried your son that was currently bawling in your arms after he realized what happened 

After treating the young lad and waiting for his parents to come and find him. Kuras brought his son to his room to talk (that he somehow had personally made. Where did he get the money from? Does he even know how to build a room???) 

At first the talk did not go well. Kuras had to sit there and explain to him how his abilities work, where he got them from, and attempt to do an even better job in comforting him over the situation. And your son, still being emotional (which is understandable he just horribly injured a person without knowing), felt like Kuras didn’t care enough.

So as a result, he refused to speak to him for days. Like daayyyyssss

It wasn’t until Kuras convinced you to make his favorite dish (because remember he can’t cook for shit), and have it for dinner so then he’ll have to speak to him. Which eventually led to them making up and your son being all smiles again :>

But moving on from the sadness

Kuras wants to make sure his boy grows up being the best person he can be. Giving him all the resources he needs (practically home schooled him), teaching him all the life lessons he needs, and making sure he always cared for others

Can’t have him making the same mistakes as he did 

Even though he might not show it a lot, he loves that kid more than anything, and he wouldn’t trade your little family for the world ^-^

After putting your son to bed, you and Kuras finally had some sort of alone time. With you still trying to find a way into the Senobium to find some information linked to your curse, and Kuras having patients day in and day out, you guys barely had any time with each other. So thankfully, after tonight's dinner, and some more playing, your son was out like a light much earlier than you expected. 

Kuras was currently resting on top of you, his hands on each side of your head as he places gentle kisses onto your face and neck, reveling in the sound of your giggles as your own pair of hands drag through his hair. 

“Getting restless are we darling?” He says teasingly. 

You laugh at him again, messing up his hair and bringing him close to share a deep kiss. You feel the sensation of his tongue grazing your bottom lip. You then flip the both of you over so you're the one on top and start dragging your hand down down his chest, getting more closer to the top of his pants. 

But suddenly, a quiet voice interrupted the heating atmosphere. 

“.....Father? [preferred parent name]?” 

At the speed of the gods themselves, you quickly jumped off of Kuras, sitting on the side of the bed, and facing your son. Kuras sat up as well, grabbing a robe so he could cover himself a bit. After that he turned towards the door again, wondering why his son was up so suddenly. 

“Why are you awake little one? Is something troubling you?” He said with a concerned tone. 

Your son fiddles with the ends of his pajamas for a moment, obviously a little nervous about answering the question. 

“I had a bad dream, and now I can’t sleep. Can you read me a story…please?” 

Kuras looks surprised for a moment, before he lets out a snicker and scoots over a bit before patting the area, signaling his son to come sit. The young boy makes his way over to the bed, climbing up onto it and sitting down in between the two of you, watching as Kuras leans over to a small table and picks up a book. 

He opens it to the first page, leaning closer so your son can also see the words, and then he begins reading. 

After a while, Kuras manages to get through a good amount of the book, his smooth, silk voice providing good narration for your son, luring him into another deep sleep as he rests against his chest. 

Kuras himself is pulled into his own little daze, his eyes stretching across the paper as he reads every word out loud. But a small bump against his shoulder brings him back to reality. Looking over he notices you have also fallen asleep, lying down against his shoulder and softly snoring. He smiles softly before grabbing a bookmark and placing it on the book before closing it and putting it back on the table.

He then scoots even closer, leaning his own head against yours, and wrapping his arms around the both of you in a soft embrace. 

His own way of promising protection, reassuring that no harm may come to either of you as long as he’s around.

VERE

How you even managed to date this man much less have children with him is a mystery within itself 

For the longest period, you always believed that Vere wanted nothing to do with kids

And honestly, he himself understood why you thought that\

He’s been alive for centuries, and for most of those centuries him and small children were never a good mix

It was always either they were scared of him, or he found their never-ending hyperactivity annoying 

But one day, while Vere was walking behind you (more like stalking you but you’ll never find out). He noticed that you stopped to help a little girl who was looking for her mom along the busy streets. She was crying but you managed to calm her down by buying her something sweet, and then after that you walked around, looking for her mother. You did eventually find her, and the woman thanked you profusely for finding her daughter, and you replied back saying it was no problem. 

But that sight alone warmed something in Vere. Rarely ever in his years of living had he seen something so soft, so gentle and loving. 

So eventually when you returned back to your home at the wet wick, Vere was already sitting on your bed waiting for you. And before you could ask, he was immediately in your face asking a question you never expected to hear from him 

“How do you feel about having children, my pet?”

“......huh?”

Pregnant!MC - Cue to a few weeks later when both you and Kuras are staring at each other in complete shock when he tells you that yes, you are in fact pregnant 

And Vere is just standing outside with the most smug look on his face

But annnywwaayyyy

Cut to current times and now you and Vere are holding twin baby girls

I’m sorry just like the others he gives off girl dad vibes

Even if you decided to adopt rather than go through the pregnancy, somehow Vere managed to find two fox babies, so either way, he had his fox children (Don’t ask where he found them, you don’t want to know)

Is…surprisingly an okay dad?

 He’s not perfect, then again he’s not horrible, it’s a weird situation 

His pet names for them could use some work but hey, it looks cute from a distance 

Because “my precious little monsters”, “my little terrors”, and “my little nightmares” would not look good to others. But to Vere it's somehow perfect???

He spoils those babies to hell and back, like literally everything they own is of the top most quality 

“Of course I can’t have my children caught dead in anything less. They need to look just as good as I do.”

Sometimes people avoid walking down the same street as them because they get embarrassed by the fact that literally infants have better stuff than them

Now the question is, where did you even put all of these things?

Upon getting the babies, Vere had you (ahem forced) moved out of the room in the wet wick because “I would be damned if I let that egotistical man-child be near my girls for longer than he needs to be.” 

And hence, you and the babies were moved into a little town house Vere had found that had been abandoned for a while, and he refurbished it himself. And it turns out it had been close to his favorite restaurant which was nice. 

But as he spoils them as much as possible, the personal care can use some work.

Feeding them? No problem. burping them? No problem (however he does hold them in a weird position so they can’t possibly vomit and get it all over his clothes, it gets the job done but still T-T). Putting them to sleep? Can take a bit because he does get a little impatient, but it works out eventually. Playing with them? An absolute pro. Changing them? Yea that’s unfortunately your job MC, he does have a sensitive nose. 

Ais sometimes visits and plays with the little princesses while you and Vere go off and hang out together (and also get some “alone” time)

He definitely gives them very fancy sounding names that also definitely match. 

“Luna & Lilah”, “Olivia & Sophia”, “Penelope & Poppy”, the list goes on 

On top of spoiling them, he also does the thing where he pretends to understand exactly what they're saying even if it’s just babbling, but except it's in the worst way possible. 

“Ababbababbasdindasnd”

“Hmmm…yes my dear I completely agree, those pants do absolutely hideous on him”

��Vere omg stop he’s looking at us-”

Unfortunately, some angst

Given Vere’s situation, there do come some complicated situations. In which it leads to Vere being 2x as protective over all of you 

The Senobium never expected him to love someone, even less have children with them

So Vere really has no choice but to hide things from both parties here. With the kids, having to excuse his random disappearances as just adventures, and having to tell those damn clerics that he has no one. 

Those long hours that he has to spent locked up in some dungeon only makes him feel even guiltier because he knows his excuses aren't going to last forever 

But of course, his double life didn’t last forever

A day where he was finally able to return home after hours of killing people for the Senobium, instead of being greeted with you probably sitting in your shared bed while watching your two girls babble and giggle away. Instead he finds you on the ground, crying, and clutching your stomach as if you were injured. And the babies nowhere to be found

Vere rushes over, immediately disregarding any jokes he had in his head to ask you what happened.

You explain to him that some clerics had somehow found out where you lived and charged into the house, demanding to give them very personal information. When you refused to answer they attacked you and took the girls with them.

You apologized to Vere over and over again, blaming yourself for not being able to protect them better. But Vere told you it’s not your fault, it’s the fault of the ones who thought it would be smart to fuck with what’s his. 

Vere of course marched up right to the place where they were keeping his kids, even before he could enter he heard the sounds of their cries, only angering him further 

Now he knew he couldn’t kill the clerics, that was one of the damn enchantments they had put on the collar he’s wearing, but they never said he couldn’t injure them

When he got there, they did antagonize him. Getting on him for keeping something sooo important from them, condescendingly asking what would the Abess think if she found out he was hiding such a secret.

 But what really pissed him off was when they had the balls to insinuate that maybe they should enslave his babies too, since he was so keen on being a family man

Yea let’s just say they were all in comas by the time he was finished. He’ll deal with the Abess later, his daughters were his biggest priority right now. 

He had never felt that much fear in his life as he did at that moment. He immediately grabbed the two of them and held them as close as possible for a long time, checking for any injuries. A part of him was furious at himself for not getting there sooner to do something, but he knew what was important right now was calming them down

He’ll never let something like that happen again

But moving on from the angst 

Although Vere can be a bit difficult when it comes to actually caring for his kids, he still loves them nonetheless, in his own Vere way 

And even though he raises them to be the best of the best, and take shit from no one, resulting in them inheriting his sassiness. They do become very sweet young ladies, which is good for you :>

Both you and Vere were sleeping in your shared room. His arms and tail wrapped around you in a tight embrace. But the quietness was broken by the sound of your youngest crying from the other room, probably feeling lonely and wanting one of you there with her. You and Vere slowly sit up from your places on the bed, filled with exhaustion and grumbling from being woken up. 

But before you can get up to go comfort the little one, Vere pushes you back down so your head is resting against the pillow again. “I’ll take care of her, go back to sleep.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure? I know you get extra grumpy when something wakes you out of your beauty sleep.”

Vere rolls his eyes at your remark, getting up to grab one of his designer robes and throw it on before walking to the bedroom door. “You better not be awake by the time I get back.”

You playfully throw back a “yes sir” before laying back down and closing your eyes, causing him to snicker before leaving and making his way towards the nursery. 

Walking in, he makes quick but quiet steps towards the crib where his baby girl was, taking note to not accidentally wake up his other daughter. (thank the gods she was a deep sleeper)

Her ears were currently pulled back against her head and her tail was pointing straight down as her tears continued rolling down her face. 

Once reaching the crib, Vere picked her up and held her against his chest. “Oh my little monster, what’s bothering you hm?”

He holds her close and walks over to a rocking chair that was sitting in a corner of the room, after sitting down on it he begins slowly rocking them both and trying to hush her tears. 

After a few minutes, her cries begin to calm down and turn into soft whimpers. This makes Vere show a soft smile, happy that was able to get her to settle down. 

“There you go my precious one, good girl.” He keeps rocking, not wanting the possibility of the girl getting fussy again. 

She giggles in response, grabbing her tail and chewing on the ends of it. Vere laughs and removes it from her mouth before grabbing her hand and playfully nibbling on it, this makes her laugh again and wriggle in his arms. 

Eventually, she was able to fall asleep again, this time in her father’s arms as he watched her with nothing but love in his eyes. 

MHIN

It’s honestly the same thing with Vere, how you manage to even get into something romantic with them much less have kids is truly one of the wonders of the world

And just like Vere, you always assumed Mhin would want nothing to do with kids

For multiple reasons

They were never in one place for too long, they were constantly grumpy/in a bad mood, their job was hunting for a living, not to mention their apparent curse probably made things 10x more difficult than it needed to be. 

But being all honest, you noticed the empathetic look in their eyes as whenever the both of you were passing the orphanage, you can tell they felt bad for those children who had no other family to turn too, and wished they could do something about it

So with that, the both of you ended up having very long discussion about where to go from there, and what to do with both of your wishes

So that’s how you ended up with a baby boy in your arms that the women at the orphanage were very insistent on you and Mhin caring for 

I apologize to anyone that wanted to see Pregnant!MC for Mhin but I always imagined them as the kind of person that preferred adoption over pregnancy T-T but I might make a separate post for how LI’s would act with Pregnant!MC :>

Of course you and Mhin did your best to make any preparations for a child, but you weren’t expecting the orphanage to find someone for you that fast

You were honestly surprised when Mhin brought you to the outskirts of Lowtown where there was a small house that looked almost abandoned that had apparently been where they called home for months 

When you questioned them about it they just responded with saying they wanted to lay low so they found somewhere no one would expect them to be 

Also

“I didn’t want you…or him to be around that fucker while we’re trying to keep him safe.”

Yes they were talking about Leander

They also want to keep the baby around only Kuras until they deem everyone else trustworthy(no you cannot talk them out of this)

But eventually when your able to settle down with the little guy, things feel a little more domestic 

It was a tough transition for the both of you, but you managed to get through it :>

Mhin tries to stop taking less jobs and finding ways to sneak into the Senobium, but now that they have you and their son now, they are even more determined to find a way to get rid of their own curse because now their paranoia of hurting you two has doubled 

And with that Mhin was afraid of getting too close for a while, leaving most of the care to you while they watched from behind 

But one day after a long time of convincing, you managed to convince them to hold the little one

It was honestly a little funny watching them panic a bit while the little guy rests in their arms, it was a situation that they had never been faced with 

But they eventually got the hang of it and even played with him a bit, making them smile as they watched their son giggle 

After that Mhin started caring for him more, picking up whatever needed to be done whenever you were away or wanted a break

I can see Mhin wanting to name him something with russian origins, idk why but russian Mhin has been on my mind lately and I can’t get it out 

Something like “Luka”, “Dimitri”, or “Lev”

Even though Kuras is the only doctor in Eridia, he is still the only doctor Mhin is willing to trust with their baby boy

Anytime there is a problem with him Mhin is immediately putting him into a wrap carrier and racing towards the clinic

Nine times out of ten he just has a small cold but Mhin panicked 

They totally still try and do some cultural things that they remember from Lovent with the kiddo, even if it’s barely anything at all it’s enough to bring a smile to their face :>

He doesn’t spoil his little boy as much as the others do, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get spoiled at all

Mhin’s way of spoiling him is whenever they come across something they think he might like while out on a job, it’s in their pockets moments later 

It doesn’t happen all the time, but it’s still adorable 

And now some angst

Given that the biggest headcanon about their curse is that the times they can transform is almost unpredictable, this creates some issues between all of you, especially when they return home from jobs

Mhin of course has an entire protocol for whenever this happens, giving you an entire rundown for it in case they ever transform.

If it ever happens and they're outside the house, lock every point of entry and don’t let them in no matter what. But if they're ever inside the house and it happens, take your son and leave as quickly as possible and go to Kuras. 

But one day, something you never expected happened one night

You were awoken to the sound of your maybe making noises that could only be described as curiosity and almost…joy? 

Sitting up, what you see makes you immediately freeze in place. In the corner of the room opposite of your son’s crib, a massive, black figure sits, its huge, white eyes glow, being one of the only things visible. Somehow your automatically able to tell it’s Mhin, mostly due to the fact that you know of no other bird like creatures

You didn’t know what to do, every possible thing you could’ve done would have opened the possibility of setting…it off 

So all you can do is sit there as your baby keeps giggling and them, while you and the bird just stare at each other 

Eventually, you notice it began to shrink, signaling that Mhin was slowly returning. And you couldn’t be any happier for that news

But once Mhin was finally back, they were crouched down on the floor, breathing heavily and holding a hand against their neck

Your son took notice of this and began whimpering, about to cry from seeing his parent in distress

The next day your little boy was sent to Kuras for a while to check for any injuries, while you and Mhin stayed behind. Unfortunately, this started a massive argument between the two of you

Mhin angry because you both could’ve been in terrible danger and they wouldn’t have been able to live with the thought that they could’ve killed you two. And you telling them that you had no other choice but to sit and no nothing because if you attempted to run then that would’ve only made the situation worse

The argument went on for some time, both of you going back and forth for god knows how long. Eventually, it just resulted in both of you sitting in uncomfortable silence, not wanting to say anything to the other 

But eventually, Mhin spoke up again, saying that their fear of hurting the two of you was stronger than anything else, and they would rather not have a family at all then live with the guilt of what would happen.

So you guys did end up making up, managing to talk things through and find a compromise :>

Moving on from the angst

Like Vere before, Even if it’s rare that Mhin would directly say “I love you” It’s always told through their actions 

From willing to spend countless hours comforting their son, or trying to get him to sleep, or just playing with him, that alone tells you enough that they love him more than anything than whatever's left in this wretched world.

And they wouldn’t have it any other way ^-^

Mhin was returning home late one night after a long hunt of killing soulless. They were utterly exhausted and wanted nothing more than to pass out in your arms. 

Dragging themselves through the door, they are met with the sight of you sleeping soundly in the bed, in a position giving them the idea that you were waiting for them to return. They took off their cloak and threw it onto the floor before taking off their boots and setting them next to the door. 

But before they can flop down against the bed, a high pitched giggle rings through their ears. Turning around they see their baby boy standing up in his crib while hanging on to the ledges, his giggling only escalating when he notices them looking at him. Mhin walks over to the crib, leaning over to pick up the little one and bring him into their arms. 

“Shhhhh…you’ll wake up your [preferred parent name].” They say as they lightly bounce the little one in their arms. 

They walk over to the small playpen they made themselves and sit down in it, setting their son on their lap before grabbing a toy that has the appearance of a baby duck. The baby immediately reaches towards it while laughing, showing off his gummy smile. Mhin softly smiles, making the toy look like it’s walking towards him while making some “quacking” noises. This makes the boy giggle even more, doing his best to mimic the sounds even though he hasn’t been speaking for that long yet. 

Eventually, Mhin places the toy on his lap, letting him grab onto it while wagging it around in the air. While he was doing this, Mhin removed their shirt, exposing the bandages that were covering their chest, they then threw the shirt to where their cloak is, telling themselves they’ll get it in the morning. 

After about a good hour of playing with their little boy, they eventually take the toy from him, making him whimper a bit as he reaches for it again, but Mhin lightly shushing him calms him back down. 

Mhin then takes him back into his arms, lifting themselves up and walking over to the bed and sitting down against it, making sure to move carefully to not wake you up. 

After that, they lay down in the bed, still holding the little one close to their chest as they lean their head back against the pillow. 

It takes a while but he does eventually fall asleep, resting against their chest as they wrap their arm softly around his body, and letting their free hand lay on the small of your back. 

And then it was their turn to fall asleep, but this time, instead of having the regular restless slumber they usually experience, it was quiet, and peaceful for once. 

Author’s note: This ended up being so much longer than I had anticipated but it was very much worth the wait and I hope you enjoy it just as much as I do ^-^

[konigbabe]

steal the thunder - I -

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x fem!sorcerer!reader Word count: 5.8k Tags/warnings: no y/n; unhinged reader; manga spoilers (Culling Games + Perfect Preparation arcs); fight description; canon-typical violence; there will be eventual smut in the later parts fyi Summary: There's murder in the air – with the Culling Games underway, a simple task of finding an angel turns to a fight for life when you meet a certain, static and 400 years old sorcerer with cyan hair and wicked intentions.

Artwork by poro (poro06625649) on Twittter [source]; divider by @skylightlantern [source] For a better understanding of the reader's CE and CT, visit this Tumblr post.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

There's murder in the air – an unsettling undertone that pollutes the atmosphere. Gentle breeze carrying the metallic fragrance of blood within its currents.

The dockside keeps quiet. Sky clear, devoid of seagull calls. Walking by colossal steel shipping containers, stacked high, the scent persists. Clings to the air like a persistent specter. Each step accompanied by the gentle lap of waves against the pilings, their rhythmic cadence a stark contrast to the horrors you've seen.A soothing lullaby in the midst of chaos.

The maze-like layout of the quayside comes to an end when your muscles strain, lifting off the ground and landing atop the steel structure.

A giant panda comes into view. Its relaxed posture, perched on hindlimbs, contrasts with its impassive countenance as it gazes your way.

"Panda," you address what some might believe to be an actual animal; innocent, cute and completely harmless. Except for this Cursed Corpse – your subordinate – is none of those things.

He fixes you with your very name; a disturbing familiarity in his eyes, then the words escape his lips.

"The smell of blood's so thick," he voices as you draw near, words cutting through the tension. "There must be about three people dismembered here–"

You hold up two fingers, the other hand nestled in your pocket.

"Two actually," you intervene, voice a measured interruption, "walked past a man with a hole the size of a soccer ball in his chest."

The memory resurfaces – the sight of the man, head drooping, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Eerie web-like burns sprawled across his bare flesh. The smell of singed skin and ozone hangs in the air, a pungent reminder. Yet, it's not just that which jolts your senses. It's the residual static of someone's cursed energy, an unsettling presence that lingers.

"But that's not what troubles me," continuing, you stand next to Panda, arms now crossed as both of you watch the lifeless skies, "something bad's here. I tried following the remnants of the cursed energy of the perpetrator but it was very faint."

"Could be an expert who can turn their cursed energy on and off at will…" Panda thinks out loud.

You let the idea sit for a second. Could it be the case? Could someone in this colony be capable of doing it? Known, registered sorcerers are absent here. The majority are newly awakened, scarcely equipped to comprehend a sophisticated notion like this. And why would they feel the need to hide their cursed energy?

No.

Dismissing your doubts, you shake your head and stride toward the edge of the shipping container.

"Don't think so. Nevertheless, we're here to find that angel girl and negotiate with her." Stepping onto the container's edge, unfazed by the high drop; balancing skillfully, you extend one leg over the edge, about to step into empty space. In a seamless motion, you touch down on the solid concrete ground below.

Panda follows suit, rolling off the shipping container with agility, landing right beside you. Then he stands, an odd combination of human-like stance and panda appearance, more akin to a person in a panda costume than an actual animal.

"Our safest bet is to leave the docks. Fast. Just play pretend, avoid any unnecessary conflicts and make it out of this colony in one piec–"

The sentence's left hanging as a sudden shift in the atmosphere catches your attention. Panda falls on all fours, frozen still.

"Ah," a deeper, resonant voice rumbles from your right, the words echoing as the familiar sensation washes over you. A sudden buzz inside your mind, an abrupt surge of awareness regarding another sorcerer's presence. Heart mirroring the rapid flutter of a startled bird's wings.

Their cursed energy, concealed and latent, manages to evoke an almost primal response within you. A sense of fight or flight.

You pivot to face the uninvited presence before you.

A cascade of hair, vivid as a robin's egg and kissed by the hues of a clear summer sky, is gathered into twin buns atop his head while tendrils of untamed locks dance freely in the breeze, resembling a stormy sea. Longer bangs frame the contours of his face, softening his visage.

He stops when his eyes – the same uncanny shade as his hair – bore into yours. Carrying what you'd guess is a Nyoi staff slung over his shoulder, he stands at a slight angle. Excludes casual confidence, a sense of poised readiness.

"Another one," he breaks the silence. You stand your ground in response to his observation.

"Not interested in a fight," you remark, hands risen in a defensive gesture. Yet you don't dare take your eyes off the sorcerer. Ready and composed.

Panda, ostensibly cautious, inches closer to you, fur bristling in sync with his unease towards the newcomer's presence. The air tightens, charged with the unspoken potential for violence.

"Kogane," he calls out to the shikigami, summoning it like a wisp from the aether; the small creature materializes, its hue the shade of a serene lake, light and amicable as it floats near his head, "is the panda a player too?"

The shikigami screeches its answer, its words setting everything in motion.

"Indeed!! A player! Yep!!"

"That's a function," your pondering voice meets a forced silence. The state of perturbed ambiance vanishing as your thoughts are cut off.

A flesh of white. Empty space occupies the spot where the sorcerer was standing less than a second ago.

You sense his presence before your eyes even settle on his countenance; his eyes, framed with short zig-zag lines reminiscent of lightning bolts underneath them, a furious cauldron of murderous excitement as they lock onto yours. They widen with a manic intensity. An undertone of madness lurking deep within their depths.

A predator's gaze fixated on its prey.

In a heart-stopping moment, time stands still. The world around you fades into a blur as a primal instinct takes over. Your body reacts; a precision born of pure reflex – muscles coiled like springs, you counter his attack with a swift and calculated movement.

His volatile energy crackles in the air. Your hands snap up. Fingers attempting to curl around his bandaged forearm. Channeling your cursed energy to your clavicles, the place where his palm lays flat against you –

But your reactions prove inadequate. You're too slow. A shocking speed and heavy push; a surge of force is sent through your body, catching you off-guard. The ground beneath you becomes a temporary adversary. Your balance disrupted as you're sent flying backward.

Back colliding with the hard, metal steel of a shipping container – you watch in horror as the sorcerer mercilessly attacks Panda. Using his staff as a weapon. With unnatural speed and agility, Panda struggles against him; his valiant resistance a testament to his determination, his form a blur of motion as he evades the sorcerer's attacks and manages a few good blows of his own.

Your body feels light. A tingling sensation surging through your veins. Electric current's rushing beneath your skin, setting your pulse racing and your focus to a razor's edge. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouth. Mingles with the adrenaline in your body. Every nerve firing in response to the raw energy pulsing through your body.

It hits you then–

"Heh, electricity," you mumble, the word slipping from your lips as you raise your palms, clenching your fists. Feeling the tingling in the tips of your fingers. The slight buzzing in your ears.

–his cursed energy has a special trait. One certainly hard to defend against.

Barely seconds have passed since your body was forced to rest against the ground. It still feels too long with Panda barely matching the man's speed and force.

Gritting your teeth, the urgency of the situation anchors you, overriding any pain or disorientation as you fight to regain your footing. A sense of pride fills you when you watch Panda use his technique, striking the sorcerer with enough force that'll easily knock him out cold. One of Panda's winning moves.

Except it doesn't.

"Nice one," the man's voice rings out. A taut smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Your teeth clench, disbelief intertwining with unease as you watch. With a predominated precision, the sorcerer maneuvers his staff, entwining it with Panda's arm in a smooth motion that catches you off guard.

Exerting a forceful pull, he forces a grimace from Panda. Right arm caught in the vice-like grip, a sickening crack underscores the moment. Followed by the nauseating sensation of Panda's arm being torn from his body. Violently. And mercilessly.

Panda stumbles. Pain and agony escaping in a cry. The sorcerer doesn't waste a second. Hurls the arm back at Panda, using the momentum to charge forward. Palm aiming flat against his chest, he sends Panda flying backward – the same way he did to you. Causing your junior to experience a similar sensation to yours.

The cyan-haired man straightens, seemingly relaxing, already content with winning the fight.

"But I'm not impressed," he taunts, words an ominous echo of the violence just unleashed, "It's too ordinary."

Feeling the concrete beneath your feet, you take deliberate steps forward. With an inkling of Panda's potential strategy, you expel the pooled blood from your mouth, spitting it onto the ground.

"...Sukuna, you know where he is?" The man's words flow, attention diverted, ignorant of your presence.

A fortunate circumstance.

"No clue," Panda responds. His reply burdened with weariness and defeat; yet his gaze remained fixed on you, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you as you position yourself, tension radiating from his weary form.

The sorcerer scoffs; a contemptuous tilt of his head, a gesture laden with superiority. "Sounds like you know something, then," he snarls, his grip on the staff constricting as his fist clenches, "Spit it out. I'll be merciful."

With the sorcerer's back turned you raise your arm. Your gaze remains fixed upon the convergence point of the two delicate lines, their path crossing at the very heart of the expanse that's the upper part of his broad back.

"I won't be," you declare; voice carrying a firm tone. A deft flick of your wrist – the current of cursed energy takes the desired shape before it's hurled toward your target. Slashing the air in front of you, aimed right at him.

His gaze veers to the side. And in a fraction of a heartbeat, he moves; executing a skillful sidestep. Body positioned to face you from the side, both hands now gripping his staff, aiming it at you; a glint of fervor ignites his eyes as they widen, locked onto the shipping container stationed behind Panda. The unforgiving force of your attack rends the shipping container apart, leaving two gaping slashes that could bisect a man.

You don't give him time to react properly.

The moment blood begins to stain his white robe crimson red from the nick on his shoulder, you lunge forward. Like a bull being waved a red flag. Feet imbued with your cursed energy, reinforced to ensure protection.

As you close the distance at a breakneck pace, you sense the distinct composition of his cursed energy. With your fingers curled around the staff, your eyes meet his, a faint grin playing at the corners of your mouth as you tug on his weapon with your full body weight. Lifting your legs off the ground, you use the staff as a fulcrum. His body feels resilient, akin to forged steel, against the soles of your shoes.

With the potency of your cursed technique coursing through your strike, the man is propelled backward, his body hurtling through the air. The Nyoi staff clings to the concrete. Left untouched upon the impact.

Flying through a shipping container, he quickly finds his footing. Stance shifting in response to your aerial maneuver. Legs splayed to establish a firm foundation, you focus your intent on targeting his jaw. Fists charged with cursed energy, you hit once; knowing how troublesome the push-and-pull effect of your technique feels once your flesh makes contact–

"Not bad," he manages to spit out, the corner of his lip stained red. A smile tugs at the corner of his lip as you sprint toward him.

The surroundings blur into a muddled backdrop, irrelevant in your unwavering concentration. The sorcerer becomes the sole axis, a focal point in a world that seems to slow to a crawl, even though only a fraction of a second has passed.

The tip of your foot touches his; a mere whisper of contact between two opposing forces.

"Not bad at all."

–he counterattacks. Hand darts forward. Grabs your wrist. With an economy of motion, he employs your own momentum against you. His grip becomes a pivot, briefly throwing you off-balance, diverting your forward surge into an unexpected spiral.

Fluidity. That's how you'd characterize his movements. A seamless transition from being a passive target to an active agent.

His chest brushes against your back as his right hand remains locked around your right wrist. Single-handedly swinging your body like a marionette, you exploit the vulnerability of your position. Using his grip as leverage to move backward, simultaneously grabbing hold of his bandaged left forearm and pulling. Crashing your body into his, redirecting the movement into a collision.

With a potent surge of intention, you force the prepared rejection and attraction effect within your clenched fist, propelling it like a bolt toward the rear of your skull. Teeth gritted, you throw your head back.

Crack.

He stifles a groan, a step taken back but footing resolute. A red trail paints his nose as you swivel to confront him. Pausing briefly to charge your energy again, you grant him a moment to speak. His expression freezes as he locks eyes with you

"You," he speaks up, his voice textured with the tang of iron as his tongue grazes his lips, "Have we met before?"

With your hand still tingling, the ripples of sensation spread up your arm, an electric current tracing a pattern beneath your skin. Your head sways subtly, dispelling the notion of a previous encounter. "Unlikely. You'd be history."

A chuckle dances from his lips, a response to your retort. "What's your name then?"

You share it deliberately, each syllable a measured beat in your dance around one another. He nods, his head tilting with self-assured grace. It's then that he takes his stance – feet planted firmly, palms outstretched, a grin playing on his lips.

"The name's Hajime Kashimo."

The words hang, a telltale echo–

Hajime Kashimo.

–recognition snaps into place when you repeat his name in your mind.

The Hajime Kashimo, the sorcerer whose score reaches a hundred points; a mark that sets him apart from any other Culling game player (except for the intricate Hiromi Higuruma). Hakari's elusive target.

And here, right before you, stands the man himself.

"Hey," you call out, a new determination blossoming, your stance embracing the challenge; retreat is no longer a consideration, "if I beat you, can I get your points?"

The corners of Kashimo's lips twitch, smile fading like a wisp of smoke carried away by the wind. Expression blank, with only his brows furrowed as he responds, "Sure, but you tell me everything y'know about Sukuna," his voice lowered to a dangerous undertone, a velvet threat veiled in words, "that is–if you're still alive."

He charges then. Doesn't spare a single consideration. The air crackles with tension as his presence engulfs you. His hands make contact – not with fists or strikes – but with the calculated pressure of his open palms. You feel the weight of his touch on your skin. Pressure on your left, then on your right ribcage.

"Don't disappoint me now," breath tickles your ear, voice a tantalizing, dangerous melody. His fingers anchor firmly onto your right shoulder, an assertive grip that both commands and unsettles, while his other hand exerts a calculated force on your left shoulder guard, propelling you into a spin.

Your training surges forth, a symphony of muscle memory and instinct harmonizing within you. With the resilience born of countless battles, you swiftly adapt your stance, shifting your weight to face him.

An annoyed huff leaves your now-bruised lips. You channel your own cursed energy, a torrent of power surging through your veins.

Detain an attack when it comes,–

Knees bending, body swaying to evade the incoming fist; your left hand grips his left wrist, fingers tightening with determination, followed by your right driving into its intended mark.

–and send it away when it retreats.

Your palm meets the solid plane of his chest with a resonant thud; pushes and then pulls him back to you before sending him away again; successfully pushing back against Kashimo's pressure. It's a momentary reprieve. One that sends the sorcerer tumbling back, makes him roll on the ground, lending on one knee.

"Here I thought we were just getting started," you quip with a hint of playfulness amidst the dance of combat. Moving swiftly towards the target. As Kashimo's force ebbs, you seize the opportunity, your muscles coiling like springs.

"You're getting me–" he barely makes it back to his feet before you're at him again. With enough cursed energy imbued into your foot, utilizing the momentum of your motion, leg rising up in a calculated kick – only for Kashimo to shift; a fraction of movement that proves decisive. His arm weaves beneath the arc of your thigh, a sinuous and serpentine maneuver that seeks to entwine and subdue. As his grasp tightens, his fingers snake around your throat, lifting you from the ground, suspending you momentarily.

"–quite excited," he concludes, his voice tinged with an eerie excitement.

Once the hand is freed from contact,–

A heartbeat's pause feels like an eternity. With your legs rendered weightless and no stable ground beneath you. Despite the vulnerable position, your mind remains steadfast, honing in on Kashimo's Achilles heel. His hands are preoccupied, his grasp unwavering but his neck and face exposed.

–carry out a strike with it.

Seizing the opportunity, you make the most of the opening. Your palms press against the sharp contours of his cheeks, each hand finding its place on one side of his face. In one swift and deliberate motion, you channel the wellspring of cursed energy that resides within you into your technique. The currents of your energy converge between your palms, weaving a tapestry of arcane force that manifests as a palpable vacuum, centered precisely where his head rests.

It's an intentional manipulation. One – if done right, that is – could even lead to a cataclysmic implosion. A violent severing of life from the body. But you don't want to kill him; not yet at least. You need the points. And so, you temper your approach, exerting only the necessary amount of energy to induce a sensation of compression.

As the feeling envelops him, Kashimo's expression shifts, a flicker of realization that dances within his eyes. He instinctively withdraws. Bandaged forearms push at your body, sending you hurtling backward; a testament to his strength and strategic finesse.

"You cheeky little thing," a bead of blood traces a path from the corner of his eye. At the same time, another droplet emerges from his nose.

This time it's him who doesn't let you regain enough control as he charges at you. His approach swift and unrelenting. The tables are constantly turning – now being his time to dictate the tempo.

Another dance of offense and defense plays out as the two of you clash once again. Each move a deliberate response to the other's actions.

Chase the movement of the opponent–

As the flurry of his strikes slices through the air, you find yourself navigating the ebb and flow with a synchronicity that borders on the sublime. With a hawk-like focus, you track the trajectory of his hand, your senses attuned to his every motion.

While his hits continue to swing through both empty space and meeting your body, a fleeting opportunity presents itself. With the precision of a seasoned sorcerer, you follow the path of his hand with your own, fingers closing around his forearm as it narrowly misses your cheekbone, the other digging into the open slash wound on his shoulder.

–to continue the attack.

It earns you a hiss. A "Tsk," coming from his damaged lips.

One fluid motion; one that belies your strength. You capitalize on the momentum of his own swing, utilizing your grip to exert control. Your foot surges forward with unbridled force, the sole of your shoe connecting with the vulnerable juncture of his knee.

Kashimo's reflexes kick in as he instinctively leaps back the moment your foot makes contact with his leg. His visage bears the marks of battle, a canvas adorned with streaks of red, the vestiges of blood from the prior exchange. A mirror to his appearance, your own face likely reflects a similar narrative. Marked by the intensity of the confrontation. By his pure, physical prowess. One that, even if you use all your cursed energy, you're certain you couldn't match.

The shadows of weariness begin to cast their subtle touch on you. A weight that tempers your movements and shadows the clarity of your thoughts. Each calculated step, each strategic strike, seems to bear an additional burden now.

Still, resolute, your unwavering determination fixated on Kashimo, persevering in the face of creeping exhaustion.

Then you take off.

With a surge of action, you propel yourself into motion. Pivoting on your heel, you sprint toward the towering container crane a mere few meters behind. Kashimo's quick thinking registers in the corner of your vision—a flash of white on your right, drawing nearer.

"Running so soon?"

His taunting words reach you.

"Just limbering up," you reply. Muscles tensing, you feel his energy almost brushing against your own. So, with a leap, you vault into the air. Fingers curling around your ankle.

Time seems to slow as Kashimo's grip tightens around your ankle, his fingers like a vice attempting to anchor you to the ground. The world spins around you, the crane's towering structure becoming a blur as your body is abruptly yanked back, denied the freedom of flight.

Instinct kicks in, your mind racing to find a solution. With a swift twist of your body, you channel the energy within, your cursed power surging to your fingertips. A burst of force courses through your arm, the concentrated energy propelling your free leg forward in a powerful kick. Your heel connects with Kashimo's face, the impact forcing his grip to release.

In the split second of regained freedom, your body soars toward the container crane.

Muscles strained, you manage to grab hold of a protruding metal edge, fingers gripping with an iron determination. The harsh clang of metal meeting metal reverberates through the air as your body comes to a halt, swinging slightly from the momentum before you propel yourself higher onto the structure.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. The distance between you and Kashimo now a tangible reminder of your evasion. His frustrated gaze meets yours, the tension between you electric and palpable.

"Nice try," you retort, voice laced with a mixture of weariness and defiance. There's an undeniable satisfaction in defying his grasp, in proving your prowess even amid exhaustion. Without wasting a moment longer, you hoist yourself up more, using the crane's structure to propel your body upward. Your form melds with the steel as you ascend, a maneuver to gain the vantage point.

Gotta limit his movement to the minimum.

Kashimo's expression shifts, a glint of admiration piercing through his irritation. "Impressive," he concedes, the words carrying an unexpected note of respect, "but you can't run from me."

He follows your lead. The two of you ascending the crane in a synchronized rhythm

"I told you, Kashimo–," you declare, your voice echoing between the steel beams as you reach the crane's zenith, standing face to face on the narrowest edge.

Now standing face to face on the crane's uppermost beam, the narrow back reach providing only small support. Your breath heaves, each inhalation a reminder of the intense exertion. Across from you, Kashimo's gaze remains fixed upon you, his expression deceptively relaxed.

"–that I'm only stretching."

His eyes, however, tell a different story – a depth of focus that cuts through your form. Anchoring onto you with an unwavering intensity.

A mournful melody weaves through the metal lattice, the wind's haunting whistle creating an eerie harmony with the tension in the air. The gusts playfully tousle both your hair in the process. You steady yourself into a stance, your body a testament to both resilience and purpose.

"Plus I want those points," you remark, a hint of determination coloring your words.

It's then that you charge — cursed energy flowing through your body like currents of compressed emptiness. A void. Unyielding. Relentless. And pneumatic.

With a flick of your wrist, you send it slicing through the air. A blade of nothing. A thin line etches across his chest, traversing from ribcage to his already wounded shoulder — a mark of your earlier endeavor. Nowhere to dodge now that he's standing between two metal beams.

Or so you thought.

Kashimo charges. The white of his robe tainted with scarlet. The cut isn't deep.

He must've reinforced his cursed energy.

"Tsk," you utter. A flicker of irritation crosses your features. Agitated. With waning stamina, the dwindling reservoir of cursed energy depleted by your previous usage; this could've been your last-ditch effort.

The final move.

And it failed.

It makes him smile. A sinister twist of lips that morphs into a grin. Moving fast, his expression resembles one of a predator closing in on its prey. The ruby stain on his robe seems to accentuate his aura of danger, a stark contrast to the pristine white it once was.

As your body contorts and arches backward, you skillfully evade the incoming fist aimed at your face. Your unwavering gaze remains locked onto his intense stare. With your palm pressed flat against the ground of the crane, you swiftly raise your leg, delivering a targeted strike to the meat of his thigh.

But before your maneuver can fully unfold, his hand seizes your ankle, pulling you towards him and locking your leg in place as he maneuvers over your body. Kashimo's grin widens, a predatory glint in his eyes that triggers a ripple of unease down your spine.

As his fist whizzes past your face, you seize the opportune moment to mount a counterattack. His fingers, still harshly locked around your right ankle, you push and pull against his grasp. Leg successfully moving to close over his thigh, the other hooking around his hip.

Legs now firmly encircling his waist, you use every ounce of your strength to push. Destabilize the sorcerer. Break his foundation. Disrupt his equilibrium.

The outcome? Both of you soaring through the air and down the crane. Kashimo's form aligns perfectly with the approaching solidity of the dockside concrete.

A rapid free fall, gravity's pull unrelenting.

If you're not getting the points, he's not getting his answers either.

His eyes momentarily flit to the ground below. Unspoken recognition of the shared peril that binds you both. The realization dawns in his eyes, widening them momentarily, before his gaze settles onto your face once more – unimpressed. Jaded.

"Oops," you jest under your breath, fingers finding purchase on the fabric of his torn clothes. An unhinged smile on your lips, eyebrows lifting in a mix of audacity and exhilaration. The wind sweeps through, rustling your hair with a cool caress that contrasts starkly with the warm stickiness of blood on your skin.

"It's accumulated enough."

That's the only forewarning you get. In an instant, the atmosphere shifts; an electrifying tension that dances along your skin. You sense the already familiar tingling as the static charges from the man beneath you. Kashimo's cursed energy now gaining intensity.

His open hand thrusts towards your face, a surge of energy gathering at his fingertips. Only to get countered by your own palm. Flat against each other. Forcing a focal point of energy converges and resistance to form. As the push effect comes into play just in time with waves of electricity.

The crackling intensity escalates, its tendrils reaching out with an insatiable hunger. Only to be pushed back by your own manipulation acting as a steadfast wall. It's a symphony of sensations — the tingling of your skin, the hum of power in the air, the gradual crescendo of pressure between your palms. The vortex throbs and pulses, a living embodiment of the forces you both wield.

The thing is – The conductivity of the vacuum…depending on how you look at it, it behaves in two different ways:

Firstly, when you examine the motion of charged particles with a constant velocity within a vacuum, you encounter an interesting phenomenon. Unlike in other mediums, there is no opposing force acting against these particles. Consequently, maintaining a steady current across any surface within a vacuum demands no additional effort.

However, a contrasting phenomenon manifests when we consider the existence of free charges within conductors. When an electric field, denoted as E, is imposed upon a conductor, it triggers a flow of electric current. This internal charge movement gives rise to a current density described by the equation: J = σE, where σ symbolizes the conductivity of the material. Notably, within a vacuum, σ assumes a value of 0; hence, electric fields lack the capacity to spontaneously induce current flow.

In this context, the vacuum departs from the role of a conductor. Even materials known as insulators, which typically restrict the flow of current, possess conductivity values that are low but not completely absent.

As a result, the resistance exhibited by a vacuum effectively amounts to infinity—particularly when you define resistance through the lens of how charge carriers in a substance respond. Viewed from this perspective, you could liken the vacuum to an insulator, given the absence of charge carriers that are essential for the propagation of electric current.

So in the end, your innate ability functions like an antistatic force.

It should be enough to counter his attack. Neutralizing his endeavor and ricocheting it back to him. Only if his other hand, clenched into a fist, suddenly hasn't entered your line of sight, aiming for your jaw.

The controlled push-only effect falters. Then crumbles. The void's pull reclaims all that Kashimo had imparted, drawing it back with an insatiable greed.

"Damn you." It now comes down to the last aspect of your technique.

Implosion.

The energies within your vacuum field converge, collapsing inwards with a blinding intensity. A jarring impact against the back of your head – or it might be the ending of your fall. Everything's just confusing. Everything blurs into a disorienting haze of continuous events.

The unforgiving touch of concrete grates against your scraped back. Each breath, now shallow and ragged, causes pain.

Above, the sky stretches wide and boundless. Until the sight is blocked by a mop of cerulean blue hair. Two buns somehow still in place. Same-colored eyes staring at your form. Arms folded and a countenance marred by bloodstains and scrapes. Each leg positioned on either side of your hips before one presses against the flat of your clavicles.

"You're quite durable," Kashimo retorts, pushing his weight down on you, "that should've killed you right there."

"Heh," you manage a wry chuckle, your voice strained but defiant, "guess I'm full of surprises."

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of almost-amusement dancing in his eyes. The world around you seems to blur at the edges, the strain of the plummet combined with the failed attempt of your innate technique taking a heavy toll on your senses.

"It's been a while since I've encountered someone who can keep me on my toes this long. Now tell me," your name rolls off his tongue in a taunting lilt, "where's Sukuna?"

The distant sounds of the dockside begin to fade, replaced by an eerie emptiness. Despite your unwavering determination, a tide of dizziness threatens to engulf you, and you struggle to maintain your focus on Kashimo's face.

"On vaca–"

The weight on your chest vanishes abruptly. Kashimo's foot makes fleeting contact with your cheek before returning to its original place.

"Don't play with me. Spit it out."

"Oi," a voice calls to your right. A voice you know; Hakari's, "It's not very chivalrous to strike a lady like that."

From here, everything dissolves into darkness.

The world sways, a disorienting dance of shadows and sensations. Light pressure settles on your stomach with sounds echoing faintly in the distance. A gentle, steady rhythm envelops you as if you're being cradled in a cocoon of safety. Your limbs feel weightless, as though the ground beneath you has transformed into a soft cloud that carries your burdens away.

Your mind struggles to tether itself to the present, grappling with the fragments of consciousness that slip through your grasp. Colors blur, merging into a hazy kaleidoscope of fleeting images. The arms that encircle you exude warmth thought. One that lulls you back to sleep.

Yet you manage to summon the strength to part your heavy eyelids. Through the haze, you see a blur of black and white on top of you. Head resting upon something firm and solid – a breastplate, you realize. The rhythmic cadence that envelops you is accompanied by the subtle rise and fall of breath, a heartbeat that resonates beneath your cheek.

"Panda," you murmur, voice a tentative whisper as you attempt to comprehend whether or not you're dreaming, considering the creature on you is now a size of an actual teddy bear.

The toy-sized Panda remains seated on you but looks your way, emitting a surprised yelp at the sound of your voice, before swiftly turning his gaze forward again, "Hakari, she's awake!"

Your vision – still blurred – manages to trace a figure walking at the edge of your peripheral sight – left arm missing, shirt gone (he's shirtless, you discern), and crowned with purple hair. Hakari. But if Hakari's walking in front of you. Then…

Lifting your eyes, you suddenly lock onto a fleeting sight of vibrant cyan hair. The once-pristine white attire now soaked and marred with splotches of vivid red, creating an unsettling contrast. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns upon you.

It's Kashimo who bears the weight of your limp form.

"She's gonna pass out soon again," his voice carries vibrations that travel from his chest to your cheek with his gaze fixed upon you.

And he's right as your body, weary and battered, succumbs once more to the embrace of slumber.

[solarmorrigan]

Movie Nights

For the @steddie-spooktober day 25 prompt: Frankenstein Friday Rated: T | Words: 1514 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, outsider POV, I know the movie is over 90 years old but I didn't actually watch it myself until a month ago, so just in case there's anyone else out there who hasn't seen it, Frankenstein (1931) spoilers Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Part 3 of the Good Neighbors series

Gladys can appreciate new things. Books, television, music – the little joys to be found in new discoveries are what make life worth living. She isn’t as set in her ways as some people her age can be, but she does have her favorites.

She loves her mysteries and her thrillers above all else; the likes of Agatha Christie, Elizabeth Peters, and Arthur Conan Doyle line her shelves. She’s dipped into the genre of spies and intrigue, digging into Ian Fleming and John Le Carré. She’s even been known to appreciate a good horror film now and then.

Emphasis on “good.”

“So this is what passes for horror these days?” Gladys asks as a young man on the TV screen is sucked down into his bed, only to be spat back out as an absolute geyser of blood.

Eddie chuckles, glancing up from the screen. “Not your cup of tea?”

Gladys leans on the back of the couch, resting her arms there. She’d only come over to the boys’ apartment to see if they had a spare baking dish she could borrow; they certainly hadn’t invited her in to critique their choice of entertainment. But all the same–

“I just think they should try a little harder to really scare people. These days, it’s all shock and gore. All they have to do is shower people in blood and call it a day,” Gladys says. “I remember a time when they put real effort in.”

“Back in your day?” Eddie teases, grinning at her.

Gladys tsks, cuffing him upside the head – not hard, barely more than a tap, but he still falls sideways onto the couch with a gasp, clutching his head, and then rolls right off and onto the floor with a thump. Gladys rolls her eyes, but doesn’t bother to hide her smile at his antics.

“Hey, will this work for–” Steve exits the kitchen, a glass baking dish in his hands, and stops as his attention is almost immediately diverted to Eddie. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Gladys attacked me,” Eddie replies.

“Oh. Good for her,” Steve decides, holding up the dish again. “Will this work for you?”

“That would be fine,” Gladys says, accepting it as Steve passes it over.

“She also thinks my movie is trash,” Eddie says brightly as he levers himself back up onto the couch.

“I did not say it was trash,” Gladys says. “At worst, I said it was cheap.”

“Okay, but that’s not better,” Eddie says.

“I’m not a huge fan, either,” Steve leans in to stage whisper to Gladys, “but it makes him happy.”

“Yeah, yeah, everyone’s a critic.” Eddie rolls his eyes, then leans back a bit so he can look up at Gladys. “What would you call a good horror movie, if not the genius of Wes Craven?”

Gladys purses her lips, thinking for a moment. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever seen the classics? Dracula, The Creature from the Black Lagoon?”

Eddie lets out a thoughtful little noise, shaking his head. “Can’t say I have.”

“Well, you ought to. You’ll see where it all began, then,” Gladys says.

“And I get the feeling you’d enjoy showing us,” Eddie says, wiggling his eyebrows up at Gladys.

“’Us’? Who’s ‘us’? When did I get roped into this?” Steve asks, and Eddie reaches out to take one of his hands.

“We’re a package deal, baby, everyone knows that,” Eddie says.

“No one around here but Gladys knows that,” Steve reminds him.

“Everyone important knows that,” Eddie amends. “Anyway, what do you say, Gladys? Feel like educating a couple of horror philistines such as ourselves?”

“Well,” Gladys says slowly, “I’m sure I could come up with something.”

This is how she ends up in her armchair the following Friday night, the boys both sitting on the loveseat, all watching as the audience is warned of the frightening nature of the upcoming film playing out on the television.

“Now, this wasn’t Universal’s first horror film, and it wasn’t even the first movie adaptation of Frankenstein,” Gladys says when the opening credits come on, “but it is a bit iconic. I thought you might get a kick out of it.”

“But is it scary?” Eddie teases.

“Well, I don’t know about scary, but maybe a bit shocking. Look at it this way:” Gladys says, “it was 1931. Graverobbing and murder might seem mundane to you, but we weren’t quite as desensitized to seeing it on the screen back then.”

Steve glances over at her. “Do you remember when this came out?”

“Oh, barely.” Gladys wiggles her hand back and forth in a so-so gesture. “I certainly didn’t go to see it in the theater, I was only six or seven at the time.”

“Still, that’s pretty cool,” Steve says, and Gladys favors him with a smile.

If they aren’t altogether horrified by the movie, the boys are at least engaged, keeping up a running commentary that has even Gladys laughing. (“He had that coming,” Steve says when the monster finally catches Frankenstein’s assistant. “Yep. Rest in pieces, Fritz,” Eddie adds.) However, as they reach the midway point, the father onscreen bidding his daughter to go play with her cat while he works, Steve shifts uneasily in his seat.

“Wait, they’re not going to do anything to the cat, are they?” he asks, cutting a worried glance at Gladys.

As if the thought hadn’t occurred to him until Steve voiced it, Eddie sits up straight in his own seat. “Gladys,” he says, pointing an accusing finger at the screen, “you’re not showing us a movie where they kill a cat, are you?”

One brow raised, Gladys regards the pair of them. “You’re worried about the cat, but not the child?”

Steve scoffs. “It’s 1931, they’re not gonna kill a kid,” he says, while Eddie nods in agreement.

Both brows raised now, Gladys only gives them a little “hm,” and turns back to the screen. With some suspicion, Eddie and Steve do the same, watching as the scene unfolds.

“Oh, shit,” Steve says, taken aback as the monster tosses the little girl into the lake.

“Damn. Guess we should’ve worried about the kid, after all,” Eddie says.

“You have to have some idea of how this movie ends,” Gladys says, shaking her head. “Did you really think they’d form an angry mob over a dead cat?”

“I would,” Eddie declares, then looks down at Steve, who at some point in the last half hour had ended up tucked into Eddie’s side (when, Gladys isn’t sure, but it’s sweet; it’s a pleasant feeling knowing how comfortable the two of them are here). “Steve, would you form an angry mob with me if someone killed our cat?”

“We don’t have a cat,” Steve says.

“That’s not the point,” Eddie insists, and Steve relents.

“I would come with you if only to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed,” he decides.

“I’ll take it,” Eddie says with a shrug.

The rest of the movie plays out on the screen – the forming of the mob, the confrontation with the monster, the burning windmill, and, at last, the peaceful conclusion.

“Wait,” Eddie says, brows furrowed as he watches the end credits play, “that’s it? That’s how it ends? A toast to the house of Frankenstein, the end?”

“Yes…” Gladys says slowly. “Why? How should it end?”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about a little restitution for the guy whose daughter got murdered?” Eddie demands, shooting up out of his seat so quickly that Steve has no time to brace himself and falls sideways onto the loveseat with a little ‘oof.’ “How about a little accountability? I mean, seriously, this is just typical; some rich, entitled asshole plays around with things he can’t control, creates a problem he refuses to solve, and the poor end up being the ones to pay the price!”

“Now you’ve got him started,” Steve mutters to Gladys as he sits himself back up.

“Is there any way to get him to stop?” Gladys asks, though she’s a little fascinated with the theatrical way Eddie throws himself around the living room as he rants.

“Uh.” Steve glances over at Eddie and back away again, and there actually seems to be a little color rising in his cheeks. “Not, um…”

“Take him home first, if you’re planning to do something like that,” Gladys says primly, only to lose the fight to her laughter when Steve looks over at her, aghast.

“I wouldn’t–!” he protests indignantly, his face going redder.

��Are you guys even listening to me?” Eddie demands, turning back to face the pair of them.

Gladys declines to answer, asking instead, “Eddie, dear, how did you like the movie?”

“Oh. Aside from the ending, it was great.” Eddie drops back onto the loveseat, reaching out absently to tug Steve back over to his side. “What else ya got?”

“Well,” Gladys says, picking through the stack of tapes she’d managed to dig up at the video store. “If you like entitled rich people, let’s see how you feel about Dracula.”

[moonyswritinq]

runs in the family — platonic! edwin payne x sibling! gn reader

❝ RUNS IN THE FAMILY ❞

SYNOPSIS ➢ Edwin had been dead for decades and you had wandered the earth as a ghost in search for him. Who would have thought that you would find him in a small town in America, just strolling down the street?

PAIRING ➢ platonic! edwin payne x sibling! gender neutral reader

CONTENT WARNING ➢ mentions of death, kind of flirty reader, not much more warning needed than that, takes place end of chapter three, so spoilers?? not beta read

WORD COUNT ➢ 2.7 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ seeing as the reader is written as a sibling to Edwin it is implied they are biologically related and therefore caucasian. But since I have not specified anything the reader could just as well be adopted and of another ethnicity, so I leave it up to be your choice.

MASTERLIST, TAG LIST

It had been a hundred years.

A century had gone by since you died. And still you had not managed to finish your business in order to move on to the afterlife. How could you? When your older brother had mysteriously gone missing from his boarding school, simply presumed dead, and labeled as ‘an act of God’ and nothing else had happened. No one made inquiries. No one bothered to try to do him justice.

No one cared.

And it infuriated you. So much to the point of taking up the quest of finding him yourself. But no one knew anything, nor cared to tell you anything, so you were unable to find anything worthy of interest. Edwin simply did not matter to anyone besides you—even your parents were frustratingly unhelpful. It broke your heart. You didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t care about its people. Luckily, you didn’t have to for long.

It happened a year after you graduated from high school, making you three years older than the age Edwin  had been when he disappeared. As soon as you’d completed school you had gotten out of your conservative town, opting to travel to London instead to settle down there. The aftermath of the war had just calmed down and you thought you could get a new start. You hadn’t entirely left the business of Edwin behind you, but knowing there was nothing more you could do for him settled your guilt slightly.

When you had finally started getting used to the idea of Edwin actually being gone and of the possibility of moving on with your life, you died. A simple case of wrong place, wrong time in a robbery. And you reckoned some part of you weren’t completely ready to let go of Edwin because you had woken up again, as a ghost.

It was strange at first, feeling nothing but still being there, invisible to everyone but yourself. And it hadn’t hurt much—you had died immediately.

What should have been a tragedy left you feeling nothing but relief. You were finally free from the world’s boundaries and rules and the idiotic people that wouldn’t help your brother. Then being able to travel anywhere you wanted, speak to other dead people, and uncover all the supernatural entities that had been hiding under your nose your whole living life was more than you could have wished for. Was it possible Edwin could also be somewhere? Wandering around as a ghost, the same as you?

The thought was too good to even hope to be true. As it turns out, it was.

You visited all the places Edwin had been or he had talked about going to or anywhere you could have imagined his ghost to have gone. But there were no signs of him—at least no signs that you could find. No one had any information about your brother. It almost left you feeling like how you had when you were alive. Your world had gone from the bright colours of hope back to the dull monochromaticity that your life had been.

For years you had wandered the planet, going from country to country, adapting to the changing years and humanity’s new technology. It interested you to figure out the new things that were invented and to keep up with the modern world—not to talk about all the different ghosts, people, and other supernatural beings you met. While it was nice to travel around without a clear goal, your mind was constantly stuck on the thought of your brother being alone somewhere.

You needn’t have worried though, you realised, when you had found yourself in the small town of Port Townshend, walking down the street and seeing a very familiar face. Right across the road, a figure clad in a brown coat was walking with an all too rigid posture and pursing his lips at the teenagers surrounding him. You were too stunned to speak, your tongue felt as if it were locked, unable to voice any of the jumble of thoughts currently bouncing through your mind.

“Edwin?” you croaked, voice strained as it fought against the constricting of your throat. You hurriedly ran to cross the road, narrowly missing a car. It wouldn’t have hurt, but habits die hard—even if it had been a hundred years since you were alive. And so you let out a loud curse, swivelling out of its path, “Oh, bloody hell!”

When you turned to continue to the other side of the street you already found a familiar pair of eyes locked onto yours. Edwin had stopped completely in his path and with his mouth agape, arms hanging by his side. You couldn’t fight the grin that made its way to your face and broke out in a run, crashing into his frame with a hug.

“Wha—” he stumbled, before embracing you back and nestling his face into your shoulder.

It felt as if he would never let you go by the grip he had on you—and you couldn’t blame him. It had been way too long since you had hugged him like this and you couldn’t help the relieved chuckle that escaped you. It also felt weird hugging another ghost—it was like he was there and he wasn’t, but you could feel his presence in a way you couldn’t when you touched the living.

“It’s you,” you whispered, pulling away to grab him by the shoulders and really take him in. “It’s really you.”

Edwin looked just like you had remembered him to have looked when he disappeared. The same eyes, with which he always sent glares your way, and the same smile he hid in the corner of his lips by turning away from you, although it shone through at you then as a grin. He couldn’t help it, and neither could you.

“I—I never thought I would see you again,” he said.

You scoffed. “As if you could get rid of me that easily.” Then your eyes softened. “Though you scared me half to death.”

“More than half, it would seem,” he said, looking you up and down. “What are you still doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you asked, a smile on your lips despite your soft tone. “You were my unfinished business.”

You went in for another hug with a chuckle, holding him even tighter as if he would disappear if you didn’t. All that worrying, all that searching, all that trouble you had gone through to find your brother and it was all finally worth it. The thought made you almost want to cry—almost. You pulled away then for real, letting the both of you go back to your regular composure as a relaxed grin settled against your lips and Edwin’s went back to hiding in the corner of his lips.

That was when you noticed the questioning stares from his three friends. They were all glancing back and forth between you in clear confusion. 

“Sorry, did everyone just see what I saw?” questioned the dark-haired girl with a frown, gesturing between the two of you. “Who are you?”

You smiled at her. “Forgive me for being rude. I forgot myself for a second,” you said with a glance at Edwin. “I’m y/n, Edwin’s sibling.”

The three of them stared in astonishment upon hearing the words uttered, again looking between you two.

“I see the resemblance now that you mention it,” said the tall boy.

You shot him a playful smile. “I’m clearly the better sibling, though.”

“As if,” scoffed Edwin and tugged at his cuff. “At least I am older.”

You raised an eyebrow and pursed your lips. “Don’t know if that is actually true, anymore. I was alive longer than you were.”

“What? No.” He looked affronted at your words. “My birth was before yours and I am thus older than you.”

The boy next to him cleared his throat with a pointed glance. Edwin resumed to his usual composure, a curtain falling over his features as his bickering spirit died out. You let out a snicker, glancing between the four of them.

“You gonna introduce me to your handsome friends, Edwin?” you asked with a grin, eyeing the tall boy specifically.

Edwin glared at you. “Don’t,” he spit out, warning lacing through his tone. When you held up your hands in surrender he turned to his friends, gesturing to them all in turn with their names. “Y/n, this is Charles, Niko and Crystal.”

“Nice to meet you,” Niko’s soft voice said, hopping forward to give you a hug.

It caught you slightly off guard, but it was welcomed even though you couldn’t feel it as well as you could feel Edwin’s ghost hug. Crystal gave you a hesitant hand to shake and you took it enthusiastically with a smile. She smiled then, apparently less apprehensive. Charles also thrust out a hand along with a charming smirk.

“Any sibling of Edwin must be brills,” he said. “Also a ghost, by the way.”

You took his hand with an appreciative nod. “Did you hear that, Edwin? I’m brills,” you said and looked over your shoulder.

By doing so, you didn’t miss the soft gaze Edwin was looking at Charles with and nodded to yourself, smiling coyly. While you had learnt to adapt to the modern times, and even back then had always been quite open about yourself, Edwin was a shyer and more private person. You would let him work it out by himself.

“You know, I missed your miserable face,” you remarked, turning to nudge him with your elbow. “I also think we have a lot to catch up on, Edwin.” 

“I would say that is quite correct. We will take care of that, later,” he nodded in his stilted way. Weird as it was, you had missed his gestures.

When the four of them turned to keep walking, Niko suddenly let out a loud gasp. “There’s Monty, our new friend,” she exclaimed.

You turned to look where she was gesturing and saw a very handsome boy looking up when hearing his name. He smiled easily at the five of you and stood up from the bench he had been sitting on with a few books in hand. The boy, Monty, let out what sounded like a nervous chuckle while glancing between the group, definitely noting the closeness between you and Edwin.

“Hey. Wow, quite the crew you got here.”

“So, he’s alive and he can see the boys?” asked Crystal.

“Oh, he can definitely see Edwin,” replied Niko. You saw Monty smile at Edwin and turned to your brother with a questioning glance. He only shrugged.

When you turned back, you found Monty was already staring at you. His eyes were dark and thoughtful, jumping from your face to your clothes and your boots and your frame and your hair and your smirk—which spread even wider. His mouth opened in a silent gasp as he took in the sight of you. You could feel your lifeless cheeks warm with blood—if they could do that—and let your gaze skirt away nervously.

“Oh, hi, I, uh, don’t believe I have seen you before.” Monty smiled sheepishly at you and his voice was warm and sweet. “I feel, uh, like I would have remembered a face like yours.”

His face got redder the longer he talked and the more he tripped over his words. It was weirdly endearing and you smiled at him as his gaze jumped between you and Edwin.

“Edwin’s my brother,” you said. “I’m y/n. Also a ghost.”

“Charmed.” Monty’s grin grew wider. “I suppose good looks run in the family.”

You saw Edwin shift uneasily out of the corner of your eye and smiled at him. Monty’s unashamedly flirting was clearly not something Edwin was entirely ready for yet, but it only made the whole thing more amusing. And you couldn’t ignore the playful smirk Monty was giving you nor the glint in his eye.

“And I’m Charles. Nice to meet you, mate,” interrupted the other ghost, his own charming smile fixed on his lips, and extended a hand for Monty to take. “Any pal of Edwin’s is aces in my book.”

Monty’s lips pursed. “Yeah, sorry, hands are full,” he said, his voice suddenly cold and stand-offish.

He moved past you, closer to Edwin, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on you. You smiled to yourself as you turned to the other three, looking back at Monty.

“I was polite, wasn’t I?” asked Charles. His voice sounded much smaller, almost insecure.

“Yeah, you did good,” replied Crystal and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder.

You crossed your arms over your chest and leant closer to him. “Don’t take it personal just ‘cause you aren’t pretty enough to earn Monty’s kindness.”

Charles turned to you, affronted, and glared at your cheeky smile. “Oi, hurtful. I’m very pretty, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, glancing up at him. “And don’t you worry, Edwin knows it too.”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You only shrugged, glancing back at your brother and Monty. You saw Edwin take the book from him, completely oblivious to the way his gaze was fixed on him, and Niko was unashamedly listening in on their conversation. You took the opportunity to study Monty’s feature’s more carefully, gazing at the ways his lips lifted ever so slightly, and how his eyes suddenly jumped to yours. Immediately, you looked away in shame at being caught staring at him and you were sure to be blushing if you were still capable of it. When you dared look back at him his eyes were yet again on Edwin, but his smirk a bit wider.

“Hey.” You looked to Charles again, nudging him in the side. “If Edwin doesn’t know, though, at least I do.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his grin widen as his eyes fixed on you. That was when Edwin glanced past Monty, meeting your eye briefly before flickering over to Charles. You noticed him hesitate in his reply to Monty and furrowed your brows. It wasn’t like your brother to be careful about his words. Crystal seemed to know what he was thinking as she suddenly brought her hands together.

“Ah, well,” she began, sighing with what sounded like very bad conviction, ”Axe-murder, suicide Groundhog Day drained me, so, uh… I’m gonna head up.”

You shot her a questioning glance but decided against asking her about it. Whatever Edwin and his group had been up to you had more than enough time to figure out. Now that you had found him, there was no chance you were letting him go.

Niko nodded at Crystal’s words, still caught up with whatever Edwin and Monty were speaking about. “Okay, I’ll be up soon,” she said.

Crystal sighed and went over to the other girl, taking ahold of her arm and dragging her away from the boys. You shot a questioning glance at Edwin, but he just nodded for you to go without him. Briefly, you met Monty’s gaze as well and were almost pinned to the spot by his smile before he turned back to your brother. You swallowed and made to walk away when you noticed Charles was still stuck to the same spot, his gaze pinned to Edwin.

“Come on, mate, let’s go.”

He scoffed but let himself be guided away to follow the other two. You heard the traces of Edwin and Monty’s conversation follow behind you, their voices floating through the air. Monty’s was melodic and it made you sigh at the sound of it.

“He’s very cute, isn’t he?” you asked Charles, nudging his side with your elbow.

“Yeah,” he nodded, glancing over his shoulder.

You weren’t sure you were talking about the same person.

Tag list: @a-gay-dumbass @eunxhan @loverclear

[madi-sue005]

Welcome to the ramblings of a madwoman about the differences between Pointed Hat Coco and Brimmed Hat Coco. There are just a few things I’d like to cover before getting into the actual post.

1. What you’re about to read is my opinion. Feel free to disagree.

2. I’m not caught up with the digital releases. Reason being because ebooks don’t do it for me, so I have to stick to the print releases, putting me at Chapter 68. I’m counting down the days until volume 13’s release. (January 14. Yes, I do know that by heart.)

3. There will be a cut after this to prevent spoilers. You have been warned.

This is the title page of Chapter 28. Notice how Pointed Hat Coco has a spark in her eyes that Brimmed Coco does not.

The wonder, the hope, is gone from Brimmed Coco’s eyes. Brimmed Coco looks dead inside.

(Side note: this has nothing to do with my theories, but this is the picture that I noticed that Brimmed Coco has little Brimmed hats in her collar like the one on the cover of the picture book.)

Next up we have a screenshot from when Utowin and Olruggio are talking after he finishes giving his report to the Knights in volume 6. Again, Coco looks dead inside, but here she also looks much more menacing. Sinister, evil, even. Definitely not the sweet little Coco we have now.

This one is from when Qifrey saves Coco from the monsters that guard The Tower of Tomes while she’s hiding in the cliffs.

What I’d like to draw your attention to is the last panel. “I worry that when my hands fail to find hope—when they end up grasping at thin air that I just might begin reaching for things I shouldn’t.”

“When my hands fail to find hope…” she says. What I think she means is “if I can’t find a way to save my mother.” Remember, there’s no guarantee that any witch—Pointed Hat or Brimmed—can reverse the spell on Coco’s mother. Largely because much of the knowledge surrounding forbidden spells—even the helpful ones like curse reversals and healingcraft and the twinned bottle—was lost after the Pact was enacted.

For better and for worse, the forbidden spells are being lost to time. In some cases, such as transformation spells and war spells, that’s good. Why would you need to be able to transform someone? Just for shits and grins? Tell that to Euini.

However, in this case, the case of Coco’s mother, it means she could remain as stone for forever. Because no one would know how to undo the spell permanently. Counterclock can’t be used, because, uh… well… Dagda. Just Dagda. Being stuck in an endless loop of life and death, never able to advance. The trauma both Coco and her mother would go through on a daily basis if she chose to go that route… she would never go down that route. Not after she saw what happens to Dagda when his time is reversed.

It seems to me, that Coco equates reaching for the forbidden spells as giving into despair.

Yes, that is my finger in the far left of the image. I couldn’t crop it out without the image ending up looking weird, okay?

Anyway, I would like to point out a few things about this two-page spread. Look at the difference between the body language of Pointed Hat Coco and Brimmed Coco.

One’s much more joyful, hopeful, happily bounding along to the future. Thanks to her lack of a brim, we can see that Pointed Hat Coco is smiling. The other is much more subdued, resigned to her fate, almost, as she walks along. Brimmed Coco seems to be much more downcast than her other self.

Hope and despair. One of the tags of this post, and for good reason. This two-page spread is the essence of that.

“I felt that way because he told me there’s hope. ‘Cause if he’d said there are things magic can’t do that there isn’t any hope I would have no other choice but to wander on, led only by despair.”

Also notice how Coco leaves her pointy hat behind in the last panel, the one where she says she’d be led only by despair.

She views the path of the brims as one of despair, not hope. Of desperation for something she knows is impossible.

Brimmed Coco is Pointed Hat Coco’s antithesis in every way, it seems.

This is an official illustration that I yoinked from online, but you can see the differences in their body language here, too. Pointed Hat Coco is looked up at the viewer, curious. Brimmed Coco has her eyes closed, downtrodden.

Shifting gears a bit, what do you think Iguin means here when he says he wishes Coco could be a “true witch”? Keep in mind, that throughout history, folklore, and pop culture, witches tend to be evil.

Out of all the words she could have chosen for her magic users, why witch? Shirahama could have named her magic users anything, so why are they called witches?

Mage, magician, sorcerer, wizard, warlock, magus, magi, alchemist, sage. All such words describe someone who can use magic in one form or another. Out of all of them, why choose witch?

Even in Japanese, Shirahama’s native language and the language the story is originally written in, “witch” is not a word free from this negative connotation. It’s spelled like this: 「魔女」 and pronounced “majou”. The first character comes from the last syllable in the word for devil (akuma) 「悪魔」, while the second one is the character for woman 「女」.

Put another way: devil woman.

As I haven’t read the Japanese version, I don’t know if this is the word she uses, but it still seems like an odd word choice to me, y’know? Why witch?

Could the “true witch” Iguin is talking about be more in line with the evil witches seen in pop culture and folklore? All across the world, witches are seen as evil in many tales. Ones that immediately come to mind for me are Lechuza and Skinwalkers of Mexican and Native American folklore, respectively.

Notice how, when Coco’s saying “true witch” in the last panel, we can’t see her face clearly.

[leesmustardgarden]

Cooking with a Special Puppet Headcanons

P x (gn) Reader

Warnings/Tags: General game spoilers ofc, Sophia exhibiting the symptoms of an ED but there is a genuine canon Lore Reason I do not want to spoil sorry, P is a silly lil guy (affectionate), Gemini is a silly little guy (derogatory)

A/N: I miss taking culinary classes, so I coped by making this!! This was also an excuse to test out my new silly borders hehe

The first time you bring P into the kitchen, he accidentally makes a huge mess and feels so bad he starts avoiding the kitchen. If he needed you while you were in there, he’ll wait by the door until you come out even if it takes hours

It takes a lot of encouragement and patience to finally get him back in the kitchen, and even then he’s so careful of everything around him. It doesn’t always go well, and most of the time there’s still some accident that leaves a giant mess to clean up

It’s like watching a dragon in a china shop— every so often he catches on something and oh! Down comes all the pots and pans.

Gemini finds it hilarious but while he loves messing with P, he is also the one to tell him not to push it if he’s so stressed out and to take it little by little

P so sweet, he’s so caring and careful and yeah ok he can be mischievous but not in the sense that he’d purposefully make trouble for the people he cares for

In fact he tries to help you out by bringing around food for all the residents in the Hotel so you don’t have to do everything

Polendina takes Antonia’s meals to her and Pulcinella forces Venigni to actually eat when he forgets to

It’s very funny to watch, because as stubborn and eccentric as Venigni can be he cannot say no to his no. 1 bestie

Eugenié is silly and has to be reminded to eat (she gets too absorbed into her work), and Sophia usually refuses food. It’s worrying, but she says it’s alright and vaguely explains that she doesn’t need food 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

As the days go by and as he becomes more human and is able to control his strength better, he finally musters up the courage to ask you to teach him how to cook (which Gemini insists on being present for)

The first few times he is so shaky and afraid of everything in case it breaks, but after a few days he’ll start getting comfortable with the utensils and tools

Once he’s comfortable enough, he starts acting out small mischiefs and well

It’s hard to scold him when he’s finally overcome his fear of making a mess

“And then you carefully— No—“ The egg splats against the counter in seconds, spraying up to his freckled face. He pulls his hand up slowly, and with the most amused deadpan you’ve seen on him, turns his yolk-soaked palm to you. You don’t even fight the frown that settles on your face as Gemini coughs to hide a laugh.

“Nice one! I think—“ cough “— you’re getting better,” He says. You glare at him where P’s put him on the counter, and he laughs harder. You would strangle him, but that would probably just encourage the prick.

P looks innocently at you; his expression unchanging but a tilt in his shoulder gives away the fact that he knows what he’s doing. You’re sure that if he could laugh, he would be giggling in all his freckled cuteness. It softens your frown into fond exasperation as you reach a hand to wipe the egg off his face. He takes his clean legion hand and gently places it atop yours, pushing his cheek flush against your palm.

“Gemini is such a bad influence on you,” You say with a no heat in your voice. P looks up at you though his lashes, and you can almost see the mischief printed on his face.

“How am I a bad influence?” Gemini says indignantly, having the gall to sound offended.

You dip your hand into the bag of flour nearby, scoop out a handful, and throw it at him. He sputters and yelps, starting to complain. You’re too distracted by Gemini to notice the curious way P’s looking over at you and the bag of flour. He quietly slips his legion hand behind you when you move forward as your argument with Gemini progresses.

“That was actually so rude,“ Gemini says.

“Oh like you aren’t the one enabling him all the time.“

“When have I ever?”

“I don’t know— the art shop, for one?”

“That was such a long time ago!”

“Two days—!”

Flour hits your cheek, dusting your face in white. Gemini gets a second to laugh at you, before flour also hits him and his lamp topples over right into spilled egg. A bit away from you both, P is standing with his hands behind his back and the bag of flour peeking out from behind him. His face is twitching like it’s trying to smile, and you feel your heart melt at the sight. By the end of the day, you’re just glad the kitchen’s still standing.

[igotanidea]

Time off : Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Request: can you write something super fluffy with Dean? Like a day off of hunting or so?

Hope you'll like it anon.

Warning: slight innuendo, couple referrals to the events in the show, but no spoilers (seriously, if you don't know it, go check the "pudding scene" :D )

***

Dean Winchester was not afraid of ghost, monsters, angels, devils, genies or any other kind of monstrous creatures. How could he? The hunter blood in his veins was an effective method of keeping his fear at bay at all times.

But…..

Sometimes, very rarely, after a particularly hard case and fighting, he was brutally reminded that despite everything he was only human with all the weaknesses that came with it. Normally he would just shrug it off, patch himself up, get some sleep and move on to another mission. Keeping appearances of the rowdy boy, charming his way with the characteristic smirk and deflecting emotions by using sarcasm and dry humor.  More often than not it was his brother’s sake.  Someone had to do the dirty job, and he was not going to let Sammy get his hands dirty.

Or at least that’s what he thought when he and his brother started their crusade. But it’s been quite a few years ago and now he was just tired. Just that. And moving forward despite everything.  

He was used to being alone with the weight of the world on his shoulder, carrying it like some sort of martyr. No asking for help, not forming friendship or any real long-term relationship. One night stand? Sure, absolutely his style. Dragging a woman into his messed up life? Nah, thank you very much. Even those, who were fairly experienced in the hunting field could not withstand it and that was Dean’s greatest failure and guilt, even if he would never admit it out loud.  

And then, Y/N came into his life. Or rather, slammed into it.

And it was not in the way anyone may suspect. Y/N was not just another victim of supernatural occurrence who the brothers tried to safe. Quite the opposite actually.

 She was Sam’s friends from the law school. Only that Sam never graduated and she did. This fierce and sarcastic girl was one of the most insightful and brave people Dean has ever met. And in his job he met a lot so he had quite the comparison. And on top of all her skills, she was very knowledgeable of the specifics of Winchester’s legacy and family business. From the first day she met Sam she knew that the boy was hiding something, probably running from the past. Silent observation, a few tricky questions and some digging were enough to rim the younger brother and force him to confess. All in absolute confidentiality of course. They were best of friends, not afraid to confide in another and not afraid to just be themselves. Obviously Jess did not like it. But she had very little to say when she died in fire and Sam was dragged back into the past and joined his brother, leaving Y/N behind. For three years . And just like that, they met again by some crazy accident. Winchester’s found themselves investigating a case in one of the countless cities and much to their surprise found counselor Y/N doing pretty much the same. And to even bigger surprise she was doing crazily good, getting information neither of them ever could. They made quite the team, so she tagged along, joining brothers. Being a pain in the ass, as Dean was so kind to describe. Deep inside however, he liked that girl and perhaps was slightly jealous of the fact that she was so good in the same field as he. Sam went even as far to ask him if he was afraid of competition. A mistake he only made once. 

Y/N was dealing with all the inconveniences and obstacles with stubbornness and analytical mind. And Dean soon found himself falling for her. And worried about her safety. And acting like an idiot saying a lot of harsh and untrue words just to discourage her and made her leave for good. Guess what? She did not.

One day, Sam came back to the motel the three were staying in and walked right into a very heated argument, filled with screaming, door slamming and throwing things at each other. Followed by a week of not talking and sulking. It was impossible to work with those two. Good thing the younger Winchester decided to knock some sense into his brother’s head. Accidental, arranged meeting in the middle of the night resulted in shy kisses which quickly turned far less innocent when Y/N and Dean ended up in his motel room indulging in some other activities than hunting. Poor Sam had a really rough night and barely slept (thin walls, people!), but despite the teasing he gave the couple he couldn’t be more glad they finally resolved the case and confessed true feelings for each other.

And that backstory brings us to this day.

Sometimes Dean was just tired.  And she knew exactly when those moments were coming and were always ready to make him feel better.

“Ok, that is enough.” She advice in the most stern voice anyone has ever heard from her, walking into the bunker’s main room.

“We’re actually in the middle of something….” Sam started

“Get out Sam.”

“But…..”

“Do you really want to me to start figuring out what case you’re not telling me about. ‘Cause this is not gonna end up nice for you.” she warned

“We’re not hiding anything…..”

“Shall I remind you I’m a lawyer? You are skilled in deception Winchester, but you cannot fool me. Now out!” her index finger pointed at the door and Sam had no choice but to obey. Sometimes Y/N was scarier than any creature met during the years,  not that he was going to point that out.

“Are you on your period sweetheart?” Dean grinned

“I’m sorry?” she raised an eyebrow

“You look like you wanted to kill him. Cramps?”

“Do you really want to find out?”

“Nah. Thank you. I’ve had my fair share of dying and coming back to life.”

“Right. Cannot deny your experience in the field. Being raised from perdition by the angel of the god surely does ……”

‘Y/n”

“Oh what the hell now.” Y/n turned around only to be met with another extraterrestrial creature in a distinctive trench coat.

“Y/N” he repeated

“Well hello Cass.” She rolled her eyes “what brings you, well, down to Earth if I’m allowed to use that expression.

“You called my name.” he pointed out

“No I did not.” she opposed

“Yes. You did.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, even if I did, since when are you the one to answer the phone? From what I know you show up and disappear as you please.”

“that is not true” Castiel looked above her shoulder, eyes fixed on Dean.

“At least this time you keep personal space” Winchester pointed out, chewing on his sandwich

“Do you guys want me to leave you two alone? I can smell heavy bromance in the air….”

“What is bromance?” Cas tilted his head in confusion

“Y/N…..” Dean warned “don’t you dare…..”

“Why not? why don’t we educate our little wingy friend on some modern terms?”

“He’s big enough to do it by himself”

“Really?” the girl raised an eyebrow “are you speaking from experience”

“I don’t understand what you two are talking about….”

“Get out Cas!’ both of them shouted at him and with the slightest shrug, bit of confusion on his face and flapping of the wings disappeared.

“Do you think he is actually going to check what bromance is?” Y/n wondered

“Not a chance”

“That’s a relief. Knowing Cas he would want to experience it in real life.”

“He’s got undeniable chemistry with Crowley so how about that” Dean smirked but despite the irony and humor he was using he could not hide the tiredness and worry reflecting in his eyes. “You wanted something from me?”

“I just came to say hi.” She moved forward and snuggled next to him “haven’t seen you whole day.”

“Hi baby” he replied kissing her forehead “I’m sorry, but you know how it is. The work…..”

“You need rest, Dean.”

“I don’t…..”

“I’m not accepting refusal, honey” Y/N cupped his cheek “let me take care of you. Please. You’ve had enough. Let me get you to bed.”

“You just can’t wait to get your hands on me, hm? I;m not opposed to….”

“Shut up you idiot!” previous tenderness and care was replaced by a smack through his head

“Hey what happened to let me take care of you?” he whined

 “On second thought maybe you don’t need it that much if you’re up for dirty jokes.”

“Ok, point taken. I’ll be good, I promise. Scout’s word.”

“You were never a scout.”

“Honorary one.  Witness in the person of Bobby.”

“Sold” she smiled and resumed doting over her boyfriend “My poor boy” she moved closer and locked arms around him, hugging so tight, so close, with so much love and affection. “we can just stay here.” Her voice was partially muttered since her face was buried in his chest. “we don’t need to do anything. Just be. ”

“I want nothing more but …..”

“No, Dean. No buts.” She opposed shaking her head “We’ve cracked 12 cases in the last two weeks. Saved hell lot of people….”

“Why does it still feel not enough? Like I could do more……”

“Dean…..” she whispered looking up, cupping his cheek and brushing it softly.

“I’m sorry baby. I’m being grumpy.”

“What’s new” she grinned “guess I’m not the one on period after all.”

“You should have left when you had a chance….”

“Sure. Unfortunately one stubborn bad boy made it impossible.”

“Bad boy, huh? What’s his crime?”

 “Heart stealing.” She whispered meeting his eyes

“I’m sure he keeps in the safe place where it can’t get hurt.” Dean moved his head slightly to kiss the palm of the hand still resting on his cheek “I could never……”

“I know.” she assured

“Besides, it’s not stealing if you captured mine. I would rather call it an exchange.”

“I like the sound of that. “ she smiled lightly “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“ Let me save you today. For once, let me be the one to protect you from the monsters in your mind.”

“It’s not…..” he started but she did not let him finish.

“Just let me…..” she whispered again and her voice held so many emotions all he could do was nod in agreement. Giving in to her completely. “Come with me”.

All that happened after seemed like a beautiful dream he did not have in weeks. Intertwining their fingers Y/N led him to the coach on the other side and made him lay down, never ever stopping gentle caress on his back and shoulders. It was so comforting and calming that when she moved away to get the blanket Dean grabbed her wrist, eyes pleading not to leave him.

“Relax, baby” she kissed top of his head, her heart breaking a little “I’m right here with you. Not going anywhere. Just can’t risk us getting cold.”

“Us?” he frowned a bit

“I just told you I’m not leaving.” She laughed lightly stretching as far as possible to reach for the rug without falling of the bed and without letting go of his hand “So yes, us. Think we can fit under that?”

“I think you will have to get closer to me.” He muttered, arms wrapping around her making her squeal.

“How… how close?”

“Closer.”

“Closer than what?”

“Just closer.” He whined lying head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat.  

“Ok.” She responded, shifting positions, one hand on his back, rubbing circles there, other running through his hair. “I love you Dean.”

“I know sweetheart….”

“Say it back, you fool….” She pleaded, absolutely overwhelmed by the peace his presence brought her. Just him, doing nothing. Relying on her, trusting her, not having this emotional wall that separated them from each other way too often. Vulnerable in her embrace, surrendering to her love. Happy tears sprung from her eyes and as one warm drop landed on his cheek he looked up immediately.

“Baby? You know I do love you, please don’t cry…..” slight panic creeping on his face.

“I’m not sad, honey. Just… having you like this…..you don’t even know what it means to me.”

“I love you” he whispered leaning forward “I love you.” chaste kiss on her lips “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“I know.” she smirked “Now, sleep. I’ll keep demons at bay.”

“What about nosy angels?”

“I think I can handle.”

“How about humans?”

“Those are easiest to get rid of. Have you ever heard that song dumb ways to die? Quite an inspiration in desperate times” she laughed and the sound made him pull her in more. Just some time off with her was all he needed and he was going to enjoy this the maximum.  

“Can we have some pie later?” he mumbled

“How about pudding? Bet that brings good memories?” she teased referring to the craziest thing he did back in the days.

“Please…..” he groaned “don’t remind me….”

“Oh, I will never let you live it down.”

[onlymurdersintheafterparty]

Updated OMITB S4 Killer Theory

After watching this week's episode I have a new theory for who killed Sazz. There are some plot holes proving otherwise but for now this is what is sticking with me the most. I think it also ties some of these storylines together. I'm putting this all under a spoiler tag just in case since it hasn't been a full day yet.

I think Bev is actually Dudenoff. From what we know so far, Dudenoff is rarely ever home and is currently in Portugal. Bev living and working in Los Angeles means that she could go back and forth collecting rent, hire someone to do so, or just have it deposited directly. Maybe she inherited one of the apartments, saw an opportunity for the others and took it. Plus it's a nice side hustle that can help to fund her film projects.

The mysterious person in the group with their face scratched out could very well be Helga. Vince said that Helga was the wrong type of weirdo and Rudy, Inez, and Ana were all trying to paint her as mentally ill and paranoid. I think we can assume she's not dead since we heard her on the radio, but she is clearly in hiding meaning she didn't leave the West Tower on her own accord. I think she uncovered a secret about Dudenoff or whatever other crime these Westies are into and was going to tell Charles so he could expose it on the podcast.

Sazz was digging around searching for clues before she was killed, even going so far as to discover that someone was watching Charles and gaining access to the code for the Dudenoff apartment. This season has been playing around a lot with the concept of stunt doubles, twins, and actors portraying actors. What if Sazz bore a strong resemblance to Helga and was successfully able to pass as her which is how she got entry to the Dudenoff apartment? If the theory that Helga was going to snitch is correct, maybe during the night of the party one of the Westies looked out the window, saw Sazz in Charles' apartment and thought she was Helga and killed her to keep her from telling?

If Bev is Dudenoff there is a possibility that she was in attendance at the party at the end of season 3 and was also in town to collect the rent owed by the Westies. Maybe at the party she saw Sazz and because of the Sazz/Helga lookalike theory thought Helga was in disguise to get close to Charles. Having her side hustle exposed would lose her money and with how she hounded the trio to sign over their movie rights she sounds like she's struggling financially. In episode 4, the actors are referred to as faces because there's a dynamic where stunt people don't get recognition for their work and aren't recognized outside of the work that they do. At the party when they discuss the wine Charles has upstairs, Bev could have overheard that Sazz was going up to get it and saw that as her chance to strike. As Dudenoff it would be easy to run over to the apartment she owns and gain access to get the job done. Plus we now know she knows how to handle a gun after she is seen holding the trio at gunpoint at the end of the episode.

The question remains whether Sazz was the intended victim or Charles and I'm still going to go with Sazz for now. I know there's the whole "Everybody hates Charles" agenda but he's basically a homebody so I doubt there would be enough interactions over time for someone to actually hate him. The only other reason is that a family member of one of the victims in the podcast or the killers is mad at him for profiting off of their death like what the bartender said at Concussions.

So this is where I'm at right now theory wise. There is still plenty of time to change that because we have 6 episodes left. I know there's so much more to be discovered so I can't wait to see what direction the show will take over the next few episodes.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

prince's gambit highlights & annotations

chapter 14

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

No Laurent. All signs of recent occupancy had been a handspan away from his own body, suggesting a night spent in close but not transgressive proximity: some kind of self-preservation had apparently prevented Damen from rolling inward during the night; from throwing his arm over Laurent’s torso and drawing them together to make the small tent seem larger than it was. As a result, Damen was in possession of all his limbs, and even had his clothing restored to him. Thank you, Laurent.

The embroidery came later, in the retelling, as the story was told again and again by the men, taking on its own character as it passed over camp. The Prince had ridden out, with only one soldier. Deep in the mountains, he had chased down the rats responsible for these killings. Had ripped them out of their hiding holes and fought them, thirty to one, at least. Had brought them back thrashed, lashed and subdued. That was their Prince for you, a twisty, vicious fiend who you should never, ever cross, unless you wanted your gullet handed to you on a platter. Why, he once rode a horse to death just to beat Torveld of Patras to the mark.

like how this ironic misunderstanding of the events is similar to how damen viewed laurent in book 1 and some of book 2. except now he gets the irony

He looked at Laurent’s tent of silks, the pennants unfurled in the breeze, their starbursts undulating. The distant voices of the men swelled briefly, then dropped away. It would not be like this. It would be a systematic campaign moving southwards towards Ios, building on the support he had from the kyroi factions. He would not be stealing out of camp at night to spin mad plans, to dress in unfamiliar clothes and forge alliances with rogue clans, or to fight alongside pony-riding warriors, capturing bandits improbably in the mountains. It would not be like this again.

:(

‘Keep the prisoners alive, keep the women on side, keep my men from the women,’ said Laurent, as though reciting from a checklist. ‘Come over here and talk geography.’ He came as he was bid, and took a seat opposite Laurent, across the map.

they’re so cute i can’t stand them. “come over here and talk geography” SHUT UP

Laurent did not tend to show any of the usual outward signs of fatigue. The control that he asserted and maintained over the troop was an extension of the control with which he ruled himself. A few tells existed. The words, perhaps.

“the words, perhaps” is such a funny line here. because like yeah no shit, but also how is damen supposed to know when laurent’s words actually reflect his true feelings?

Instinctively, Damen brought his hand up to squeeze Laurent’s shoulder gently—and then stopped. Laurent went very still, as Damen became aware of what he had just done, and that his grip was still on Laurent’s shoulder. He felt the locked muscles like hard wood beneath his hand. ‘Stiff?’ said Damen, casually. ‘A little,’ said Laurent, after a moment in which Damen’s heart knocked twice against the inside of his chest.

one thing i really appreciate about capri is the way that laurent is written, as a character with trauma/baggage who experiences intimacy in a way you wouldn’t expect from the love interest in a romance novel. he doesn’t make anything easy, for himself or for damen. his physical and mental reactions to things are very telling and consistent, and i appreciate pacat’s commitment to honoring that aspect of the character. that way it’s so much more rewarding when we finally see laurent let go of control and experience love that doesn’t hurt him.

i won’t do an official count for “laurent intimacy issues,” since it’s not nearly as clear-cut as “laurent leans,” but if there’s something that strikes this chord with me, i do want to make note of it. just… stuff that i personally appreciate, especially from a love interest in a romance novel, whose whole narrative job—one would expect—is to love the protagonist and have hot sex. but sensitive and traumatized people deserve love and intimacy, too, at their own pace and on their own terms. and laurent has a lot more going on than what damen perceives, or what the romance genre dictates. it’s nice to point out little moments where his issues affect his physical and emotional reactions, because it’s nice to know that those moments 1) exist and 2) don’t make him any less of a romantic lead.

He applied a gentle pressure with his thumbs. He said, ‘You brought me ice, last night.’ ‘This,’ said Laurent, ‘is a little more—’ It was a word of sharp points: ‘—intimate,’ he said, ‘than ice.’ ‘Too intimate?’ Damen said. Slowly, he was kneading Laurent’s shoulders. He did not usually think of himself as someone with suicidal impulses. Laurent did not relax at all, just stood unmoving. And then, at the apsis of his thumbs, a muscle shifted beneath pressure, unlocking a sequence all the way down Laurent’s back. Laurent said, unwillingly, ‘I . . . There.’ ‘Here?’ ‘Yes.’

a lot going on here! made even more complicated by damen’s pov!

damen takes physical intimacy much less seriously than laurent. prior to book 1, he has always enjoyed willing and enthusiastic partners (some of whom were conditioned into that enthusiasm, but we’ll deal with that later), and to him, sex is not a means of abuse or power. prior to book 1, intimacy was never used to disempower damen. laurent, obviously, is very different. pretty much all he knows of intimacy is abuse and disempowerment.

so, being aware of laurent’s trauma and also being fairly perceptive of the signs pointing towards it, i can see here that laurent is fighting a massive battle with himself. because, like, he does want this. but he doesn’t want to want this, because this is something he doesn’t have control over. the fact that he doesn’t throw damen off, and even explicitly asks him to massage a certain spot, is a demonstration of vulnerability that damen doesn't really understand.

which isn't bad or wrong of him, at all! if he did understand more about laurent’s trauma and responses, he’d almost certainly be less confident with initiating intimacy, which is something laurent needs from a partner. it's a lot harder when they're both completely terrified (which damen is, in a different way, but lesser so.) damen is afraid that laurent will bite his head off because he’s a bitch, not because he’s traumatized. and i think that’s a good place for them to be, at this stage of their relationship.

also, the “suicidal impulses” quip is great.

He felt Laurent subtly give himself up to his hands; yet as with a man closing his eyes on the edge of a cliff, it was an act of continuous tension, not surrender.

yeah

‘Like this?’ ‘Yes.’

“he likes that. do it harder.”

Laurent’s head had dropped forward a little. Damen had no idea what he was doing. He was distantly aware that he had had his hands on Laurent’s body once before, and couldn’t believe it, because it felt so impossible now; yet that moment felt connected to this one, even if only in contrast, his current caution against the unguarded way he had let his hands slide down over Laurent’s wet skin.

damen, meanwhile, has recently developed his own intimacy issues/trauma in book 1. these two are a mess

‘Is it so hard to relax?’ said Damen, quietly.

YEAH. IT IS.

‘You only have to walk outside to see what you’ve accomplished. Those men are yours.’ He didn’t pay attention to the signs, the slight stiffening. ‘Whatever happens tomorrow, you’ve done more than anyone could—’ ‘That’s enough,’ said Laurent, pushing himself away unexpectedly.

damen he’s not stressed bc of the war stuff, he’s stressed bc another human being is showing him physical affection and he actually wants it to be happening

When Laurent turned to face him, his eyes were dark. His lips were parted uncertainly. He had lifted his hand to his own shoulder, as though chasing a ghost touch there. He did not look exactly relaxed, but the movement did look a little easier. As if realising that, Laurent said, almost awkwardly, ‘Thank you.’ And then, in wry acknowledgement: ‘Getting tied up leaves an impression. I didn’t realise being captured was so uncomfortable.’

ohhhhh my god. oh my god. so fucking real, every line is so fucking real. the relief of no longer being touched, being back in control. the fuckin, phantom touch on the shoulder—an assessment of the massage, yes, but also… whose ghost is it? damen isn’t asking that question, but i am, and it’s sad. and then the awkward thanks, and the immediate snarky comment to follow up. it’s just so real.

‘I promise I’ll never tie you to the back of a horse,’ said Laurent. There was a pause in which Laurent’s mordant gaze was on him. ‘That’s right, I’m still captured,’ said Damen.

says the protagonist of the “captive prince” series

‘Your eyes say, “For now,”’ Laurent said. ‘Your eyes have always said, “For now.”’

ohhh this line is juicy. because like, yeah, there’s the melancholy yearning context of the last 10 or so chapters, but before? when they were enemies, when laurent was actively hurting and trying to disempower damen? even then, he never showed laurent submission. and laurent clearly noticed. they make me so crazyyyy

‘If you were a pet, I would have gifted you enough by now to buy out your contract, many times over.’

this is more a flaw in my understanding of the pet system, but is he saying that he’s done damen enough favors that if the favors were monetary he could afford to pay off his contract? that’s my best understanding of the line at this point.

‘I’d still be here,’ said Damen, ‘with you. I told you that I would see this border dispute through to its finish. Do you think I’d go back on my word?’ ‘No,’ said Laurent, almost as if he was realising it for the first time.

they drive me insane. the whole “suffering alone” theme—laurent is realizing that he hasn’t been suffering alone, lately, because damen is intentionally staying by his side. laurent may be great at strategic thinking, but he is so used to being manipulated and abused that he doesn’t even consider that someone could be genuinely devoted to him, as a person.

But I know you don’t like it. I remember how much it maddened you in the palace, to be bound and powerless. I felt yesterday how badly you wanted to hit someone.

another interesting re-contextualization of book 1! although it’s not quite an apology, bc i’m sure laurent was aware of the maddening and was probably like “good. this guy killed my brother”

Damen found he’d moved without realising it, his fingers lifting to touch the bruised edge of Laurent’s jaw. He said, ‘The man who did this to you.’ The words just came out. The warmth of skin under his fingers in that moment took all his attention, before he became aware that Laurent had jerked back and was staring at him, blue eyes huge with pupil. Damen was suddenly aware of how out of control he was—he felt—and called violently on his faculties to try to put a stop to—this. ‘I’m sorry. I . . . know better than that.’

“i know better than that” is an INSANE thing for him to say here, by the way. they’re both so compelled by each other and afraid of each other. the amount of work pacat has put into their arc/characterization so far means that scenes like these can have something going on between every single line. honestly i think there’s more going on here off the page, than there is on it

‘No. Wait. I . . . wait.’ Damen stopped, and turned. Laurent’s gaze was edged with indecipherable emotion, and his jaw was set at a new angle. The silence stretched out for such a long time that the words, when they came, were a shock. ‘What Govart said about my brother and I . . . it wasn’t true.’ ‘I never thought it was,’ said Damen, uneasily. ‘I mean that whatever . . . whatever taint exists in my family, Auguste was free of it.’ ‘Taint?’

fascinated by the possible reasons for laurent to say this, in this moment. he uses it on the page to then say that damen is a good and honorable person like auguste, so that’s the easy answer. but if he was just experiencing some ptsd flashbacks, i wonder if this is also something of a grounding statement for himself. because we know who he’s referring to, when he’s talking about bad people on his family tree. it’s almost like he’s trying to figure out how to frame this situation, more for himself than damen—laurent feels protected and cared for in this moment, and the last time he allowed himself to feel that way after auguste’s death, his uncle had taken advantage. so of course he’s picturing his uncle. but this statement, a reminder to himself that damen is more like auguste than the regent, and auguste would have never done anything with laurent in the way the regent had… augh. laurent your brain.

‘I wanted to tell you that, because you,’ said Laurent, as though he was forcing the words out, ‘You remind me of him. He was the best man I have ever known. You deserve to know that, as you deserve at least a fair . . . In Arles, I treated you with malice and cruelty. I will not insult you by attempting to atone for deeds with words, but I would not treat you that way again. I was angry. Angry, that isn’t the word.’ It was bitten off; a jagged silence followed.

this is a laurent apology! no “sorry” necessary. and he’s the closest to telling damen the truth as he’s ever been, but still he stops himself. i wonder if it’s partially out of shame, for how he treated damen. a refusal to make an excuse, because he understands the cruelty of his actions regardless. and of course he has cognitive dissonance to maintain and tactical reasons for keeping the lie going. but still, this is honest.

Then, with a return to his more usual tone, ‘And you don’t need to take watch,’ said Laurent. ‘You sleep prudently.’

of course he can’t just say, like, “sleep well” or “good night.” prudently means carefully, or in good judgment… so like, he’d wake up if something dangerous happened? laurent trusts that? i can’t tell if the statement is an observation or a command. it’s either, “[i want you to] sleep mindfully” or “you sleep mindfully [so you don’t need to stay awake on watch].” hmmm

Damen searched his face, but found nothing in it that he could read, which, he supposed, as he lifted his hands to the laces of his own jacket, was typical.

buddy there is so much subtext going on here it’s okay just get some rest

[bulkyphrase]

Marvel Fic with Non-Happy Endings

Here's that rec list I promised earlier--the one that no one asked for! These stories don't all have unhappy endings necessarily—though there are definitely some dark hurt no comfort stories here, some are more bittersweet, ambiguous, or melancholy.

The real common thread is that at the end of the story my first reaction is, on some level, oof.

I've included the archive warnings in the list, but definitely check the other tags before reading. And if there's anything that sounds intriguing but you're worried about how dark it might get, I'm happy to provide spoilers.

Enjoy!

A Real Boy by @sineala (Stony | Explicit | 11,468 words | No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: When Steve shows up for the Avengers' team meeting, he quickly discovers that the version of Tony in attendance this week is the artificial intelligence. But Tony is still Tony, the man Steve has loved for years, and him being a hologram doesn't stop the two of them from falling for each other. They just have a few kinks to work out. Also available as a podfic read by M_Samro (@msamro)

In Case of Emergency, Break Glass by osprey_archer (@ospreyarcher) (Gen | General Audiences | 510 words | No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: They keep Captain America in the Smithsonian. Also available as a podfic read by sisi_rambles

More below the cut!

when you wake by sevenfoxes (Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers | Explicit | 27,327 words | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: Darcy cringes. “Souvenir from Clint and Natasha's mission. Apparently it fell out of the sky in Bucharest,” she says, peering through the glass at the creature. “Don't worry, they're pretty sure it's dead.” Turning back to look at Steve, she yawns a bit, not bothering to hide her gaping mouth behind a hand, which makes him smile a bit for the first time today. “You know, I asked Clint to bring me back something, but I was thinking more like a keychain or booze from the duty free section of the airport.” -- Live. Die. Repeat. Steve learns to navigate a life where his death resets time, robbing memories from those around him, changing the course of his constantly rewriting history. Also available as a podfic read by @secondalto

only cute until... by @waldorph (Gen | General Audiences | 2,314 words | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: The Avengers have been de-aged. Phil's not really sure how this is his life. Also available as a podfic read by sisi_rambles

Flicking A Switch by 51stCenturyFox (@51st) (Stony | General Audiences | 1,930 words | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: He looks at footage of Howard Stark and of himself with Peggy's picture in his compass, reads over her file again, and he feels...he's not sure what he feels, exactly. He cared about them, once. He knows that's true.

only living boy in new york by beardsley (Stucky | Mature | 2,683 words | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: Steve wakes up in a VA hospital in Manhattan, and nothing is the same.

All things are well by quigonejinn (Stucky | Explicit | 10,931 words | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: You want to test out what this is, what he is willing to spend, so you make it a nice place.

my body is a cage by nighimpossible (Gen | General Audiences | 1,401 words | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: Steve wakes up skinny and there's a small, tiny part of him that thinks it's over.

All of Your Lonely Sieges by WhenasInSilks (@whenas-in-silks) (Stony | Mature | 13,236 words | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: Steve and Tony are stranded in the wilderness. Things go downhill from there. The story of thirty-six hours.

Under Your Skin by Lauralot (@lauralot89) (Gen | Mature | 2,798 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence)

Summary: "You will tell me," says the Soldier, "what you have done with Steve Rogers." "Bucky." His voice is slow, searching. "It's me. It's Steve." The words give him pause. But that's all they are, words, and words can be parroted by anyone.

Spare Parts by Yeetmeaway (Gen | Mature | 9,860 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death)

Summary: An alternate origin story for Captain America and the Howling Commandos. Steve and his crew are thrown into the midst of a war that he was not prepared for. When Steve returns, he finds he's not the same man anymore. Additional tag warnings that apply to this fic: body horror, existential horror, violence and gore.

you left me no choice but to stay here forever by OverlyCheerfulRat (Gen | Teen And Up Audiences | 698 words | Major Character Death)

Summary: The least he can do is visit them. An AU taking place after Civil War- it's not enough to just make superhumans register, they must be contained.

I Remembered You Were Mine by hobbitdragon (Stucky | Explicit | 4,455 words | Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: Steve awakes in a strange place with a familiar face standing over him. He has no idea where he is or how he got there, but at least Bucky is with him. Also available as a podfic read by Tipsy_Kitty (@tipsyxkitty)

Found Assets by hobbitdragon (Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark | Explicit | 11,927 words | Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: What happens if the Asset's cryo-tube was stored in a Stark facility, found by non-Hydra Stark personnel, and turned over to pre-Iron-Man Tony Stark as a curiosity? What happens if this is the second time Tony Stark has defrosted a man, having continued his father's hunt for Captain America and thus found him early in the Arctic? Trash. That's what happens.

Star Begotten by @blakefancier (Steve Rogers/Howard Stark | Explicit | 1,046 words | Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: What if the Chitauri invaded during the 1940s?

Smaller by naotalba (Hydra Agents/Steve Rogers (referenced) | Explicit | 560 words | Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: Bad guys use a shrink ray on Steve. It's not pretty. (Further details in notes to avoid triggers in the summary, this is dark fic, please read at your discretion).

Euperipatoides maxiphallus by Anonymous (Stony | Explicit | 1,611 words | Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: Steve gets into a sticky situation. With bugs.

[hurtcomfortficstilltheend]

In the Name of a Cosy Christmas

Lockwood & Co (books) fluff

Summary: After everything, what more could be asked for, than a warm cosy Christmas?

Warnings: none, just fluff. Spoilers for The Empty Grave.

A/N: This was written for a Secret Santa event on one of the L&C discord servers! To read in Ao3, click here.

word count: 1070

A few months after the break in, after the Other Side, and Fittes, and all the shit that went down with it, gradually normality seeps back into Lockwood and Co’s headquarters. The new shelves fill up with new trinkets, the walls get repapered and Lucy makes the effort to make and hang up polaroid collages on the first floor. The house goes from cozy to destroyed to pristine to lived on again. 

Lockwood feels lighter than he ever has, redecorating his home gives him a chance to project and think of a life of his own. He tears up at the paint store when the employee asks him what colour he wants, so Lucy steps up and picks a few cans, ignoring the guy’s questioning looks. 

With time cases started to come, and routine set in again. Despite the dismantling of the Fittes conspiracy, the arrival of autumn spikes the number of ghost sightings and hauntings, as would be expected, and Lockwood and Co rises to the occasion.

Holly still tags along in the field, but her demeanor is more cautious, if it is even possible. She checks and re-checks the bags before going out, and packs twice the standard amount of salt bombs in her duffel bag and magnesium flares in her belt. One random day in October, she shows up with her white strand dyed black to blend in with the rest of her hair. No one makes a comment or snarky remark.

She doesn’t stay for lunch as often, and Lucy thinks it’s her way of putting some distance between herself and the agency, but later finds out Holly and her roommate started going on dates and spending more time together. The only piece of information she can make her spit out is the DEPRAC agent’s name, Scarlett.

George makes a full recovery, and keeps making up theories and investigating about the Problem and its imminent end. A curious little relationship forms between him and Flo. It’s odd to see her every other day around Portland Row, in such a domestic setting, but she is welcomed by everyone, even with her muddy boots that mess up the carpet more often than not (Holly does offer to buy her some slippers).

Kipps spends a month bottled up in his apartment, recovering and thinking of his next steps. He gets in touch with his family, and his sister helps him through it all. He marvels at the idea of studying to become a school teacher to young agents in the future.

-

Distant fireworks announce the start of Christmas Day. The table is messy with different snacks, tea, champagne and what remains of dinner. Mismatched glasses with different beverages are raised and clinked. 

Lockwood stands up and hugs Lucy, a chain reaction of ‘Merry Christmas’ and kisses on cheeks follow. Everyone is cheerful, and for a moment it’s like nothing bad has ever happened, and they are just a normal group of friends that call each other family. 

“I haven’t showered since last year,” exclaims George, looking very proud of his joke. Lucy rolls her eyes, but then her expression turns into a smirk. He freezes. “Wait, that’s not today.”

Holly lets out a bark of laughter no one has heard from her before, and quickly covers her mouth to hide it. That triggers a round of giggles and Holly joins in, feeling self conscious, but accepting her fate. Scarlett hugs her from the side and pecks her cheek as if to cool off the flush (it has the opposite effect, of course).

Kipps takes a sip of champagne and steps to the side to open the freshly painted and decorated back door, snow glistening under the moonlight and the occasional pyrotechnics. A cold current of air meets his cheeks and brings with it memories of the Other Side. He looks back at the table, and closes the door. 

“Shall we move to the living room?” Exclaims Lockwood, excited to show off the gifts he bought for everyone (they are matching sweaters that he will make them wear for the rest of Winter).

-

It’s four in the morning. The fireplace is being guarded by a sleepy Lucy, who keeps the fire going for the sake of Quill. He complained a couple of times about freezing to death if he slept on the couch with such a fimble blanket, the implications of such comment perturbed her a bit, so she agreed to be the one in charge of it.

Holly and Scarlett claimed the guest bedroom and moved there half an hour after Holly passed out on Scarlett’s lap. She kept playing card games with Kipps and Flo, but excused herself and picked Holly up when she started to stir and gently pull on her long auburn hair. 

George is asleep on the other couch, his legs in Flo’s lap. She is drinking sugary coffee while she reads a book and fiddling with the quilt that covers them.

Lockwood approaches the fire and sits next to Lucy, balancing a tray with tea and some leftover dessert. She’s focused on the small flames, sitting cross legged, but looks over and returns a small smile when it’s offered to her. Lockwood passes a cup to her and takes one of his own.

“This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” she whispers, looking back at their friends. She cut her hair last week and it frames her cheeks so perfectly. One of the white strands is a part of her curtain bangs now. She takes a sip of her tea and looks directly at Lockwoods eyes. “I still can’t believe we made it out.”

“Yeah…” He sighs, then a vulnerable smile replaces his shining one. “I’m so thankful we get to be here, all of us.” 

Lucy glances at the skull on the shelf. It has been adorned with fairy lights and a scarf ‘just in case he feels cold’, according to George. It has made its fair share of wispy half-apparitions since the explosion, but it’s okay. She knows wherever he is, he must be so pissed about the lights, and it does bring some comfort to her.

And so, on one of the longest nights of the year, they slump into each other in the warm glow of the fire, and eat cake until they feel slightly sick. 

-

They wake up at midday, on the floor, with cramped muscles and necks, but covered by a certain quilt that Florence insists on knowing nothing about. 

.

.

.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! See? I can write non-selfinserts, haha (i fought tooth and nail to keep the second person away lmao). Felices fiestas, and i hope you start 2025 with the right foot!

Masterlist

[luxaryllis]

It's Quiet Uptown

Note: Okay, I know I have a bunch of requests in my inbox, and I'm so sorry BUT!! I got into a Hamilton phase and now, you all are gonna have to bear with it with a songfic.

Also, for the sake of this fic (and for my convenience), I'll refer to Vil's father as his stage name, Eric.

This takes place at the first alternate ending of my Vil's Younger Sibling fic. Find that here, but it's part of a series, so keep that in mind!

(tagging: @dr3amscap3)

Warning/s: Angst no fluff, Death, Slight spoilers for Chapter 6, Canon divergence, Spoilers for Chapter 5, My attempts to change some lyrics to fit the situation

Vil's fingers press on the piano keys, his hands already knowing the notes and chords of every part of the song. Every cue to step on the pedal. From his posture to the elegance of his fingers, nobody would have thought that Vil was grieving.

There are moments that the words don't reach

There is suffering too terrible to name...

It had become almost habitual at this point, keeping up a mask to hide his true emotions. It was a skill actors and models always had to have, after all.

He just has to look perfect. No emotion, not even a flicker, not even the tiniest amount of weakness must be shown. Nothing must be out of place.

He is perfect. He needs to be perfect. He is fine. He's moved on. His past is behind him. He needs nothing else, no one else.

He is whole...

The door opens, a small creak and a set of footsteps signifying the entrance of someone. Weary and puffy purple eyes look at Vil as he plays the piano. The sight was normal all the time, but Eric can't help but feel that something was missing.

In the Schoenheit household, the sound of piano chords was always accompanied with the sound of violin strings. Vil and his younger sibling would always be playing music together. And Eric loved coming home to hear the sounds his children would make together.

But [Name] wasn't here. They no longer are here, and perhaps that is why the sound of the piano on its own never felt right. The violin in the corner of the room is untouched, left in its case all in the back of the room.

Eric walks closer to Vil and the piano, listening and lightly humming along with the music. The two stop for a moment, expecting a certain violinist play a wrong note or add a new melody. [Name] always changed the line, they changed the melody every time.

But there was nothing. Just silence.

Vil buries his face in his father's chest, his tears soiling Eric's dress shirt, but the man couldn't care less. Eric pats his son's back, running a hand through his hair in the hopes of soothing his eldest son.

You hold your child as tight as you can

And push away the unimaginable

Eric doesn't cry. He can't cry. Not right now, when Vil need him to be strong. It tires him to cry, but it tires him even more having to acknowledge the truth every day.

There are moments when you're in so deep

It feels easier to just swim down

...

The Schoenheits give up their crown

And learn to live with the unimaginable

Vil heaves a sigh as he walks around town. Eric had pushed him to take a stroll, perhaps to try taking his mind off of everything. Eric had a waver to his voice that made Vil know that his father only made him go out the house so the man could cry on his own.

I spend hours in the garden

I walk alone to the store

The hustle and bustle of the town was normal, everyone was living their lives. The townspeople had gotten used to having the Schoenheit family just nearby, and mostly left them unbothered. It was a slow and silent day, to Vil at least.

From one of the houses nearby, a certain wolf beastman looks out the window, seeing the model walk past. Jack can't help but frown a bit, watching how Vil walks and stands tall, but his eyes have a faraway look to them.

And it's quiet uptown

I never liked the quiet before

Vil plops down a bouquet of [Name]'s favorite flowers by the tombstone, taking a clean rag and wipes the grave meticulously. There was barely any dust or dirt on it, thanks to Vil's weekly visits, but he couldn't stop himself.

I visit their grave on Sunday

Placing some flowers on the floor

At the very least, Vil could still pamper his younger sibling the best he can. The actor blinks multiple times, the tears in his eyes making it hard to see his surroundings properly. A Purple Emperor butterfly lands on the flowers on the floor, resting its wings.

...

And I pray

That never used to happen before

Vil sighs, burying his hands in his pockets, burying the lower part of his face behind his scarf. He mumbles to himself, whispering apologies and reminiscing memories of [Name]. Vil can't help but manage a pathetic chuckle. He would always scold them for mumbling and hiding their face.

If you see him in the street,

Walking by himself, talking to himself,

Have pity

Vil always told [Name] to be proud of who they are.

But Vil can't even follow his own advice, for once. Not when guilt and self-blame eats him up on the inside.

"[Name], you wouldn't like things right now, it's too quiet right now..."

He is working through the unimaginable

...

Eric walks through the city, trying to ignore the press and paparazzi following him incessantly. The man, for the first time in what feels like the longest time, wishes he had bodyguards with him or that he had simply not gone out at all.

His hair has gone grey, he passes every day

They say he walks the length of the city

But he knew that he had to leave the house. If he hadn't, then he would have been stuck in his youngest child's room, looking through every picture for the millionth time that day.

He looks across the street, seeing a father lifting up his daughter, a proud smile on his face as he plays around with his children, his wife laughing and taking pictures of the moment. Eric feels a pang in his heart, wishing that family nothing but happiness.

Eric remembers the first time he held Vil, the first time he saw [Name]. He remembers his children's first words, their first steps, he wouldn't even need a photograph or a video to remember it. When he saw [Name] smile for the first time, Eric remembers his exact words and thoughts in that moment:

"You knock me out, I fall apart"

Can you imagine?

...

"Look at where we are, look at where we started." Rook places a hand on Vil's shoulder, looking at him in concern.

Vil looks back at him, keeping back his emotion. He must be perfect, and not a single speck out of place. But the hunter could see and hear very clearly, how Vil was clearly too stressed for anything. It was a wonder how the dorm leader could handle going back to school like this.

"The students don't deserve me, Rook-" Rook shakes his head and gently shushes Vil. He can't bear seeing his Roi du Poison so anguished, but knows that there isn't much he can do. Despite this, he tries anyway.

"Shh, hear me out, that would be enough."

Vil huffs and shakes his head in return, his thoughts spiraling back to the VDC tournament. His foolish decisions that led to his sibling's death.

"If I could spare their life... if I could trade their life for mine..."

Vil trails off and glances at Epel, who was despondently playing with his food. Normally, Vil would have scolded the first year for doing so, but he didn't have the heart nor the energy to do so.

Rook sighs and makes Vil face him, holding him by the shoulders, trying to comfort his friend.

They'd be standing here right now, and they would smile

And that would be enough.

"I don't pretend to know the challenges you're facing. I know there's no replacing what was lost, and you need time."

"But don't be afraid, you'll know when you're ready. Just let me stay here by your side. That would be enough."

...

Vil briskly walks over to Epel, who was going back to the dorm from club time. The dorm leader had been trying to talk to the first year for a while, but it's been hard getting Epel to speak or even look at Vil for more than three seconds.

If you see him in the street

Talking by his side, walking by his side

Have pity

"Epel, do you like it right now? It's quiet right now.."

He is trying to do the unimaginable

But Epel ignores him, walking faster and faster until he starts running to the mirror, leaving Vil alone in the hallway.

...

Epel walks as Vil tries to catch up with him. The first year's blue eyes gaze at the wall and the floor like it was the most interesting in the world. He can't bear looking at his dorm leader.

See them walking in the hall, staring at the wall

Taking in the glances full of pity

Not when Vil looked so much like [Name]. Not when looking at Vil reminds Epel of the friend he lost too quickly.

Then a butterfly flutters nearby, and Epel glances at it. His meemaw always told him that butterflies symbolized the dead, and he tears up. He could hear [Name]'s laugh from when they messed around when [Name] was staying in his house. And then he heard their scream, when the rubble fell down and crushed them under it.

Epel stops walking, his gaze distant but fixated on the butterfly fluttering around him. Vil takes this as a chance to try speaking to Epel, but the first year beats him to it.

"Look around, look around, [Name]..."

It was an absent-minded murmur on Epel's part, but it brought Vil to tears as well. The two didn't speak, only stood next to each other, watching the butterfly land on an apple tree, eating an apple that fell to the ground.

They are trying to do the unimaginable

...

Every class he goes to, Vil always notices the Purple Emperor butterfly following him. Some of the other students have pointed it out, Rook especially. The hunter would say that [Name] was always watching over him.

There are moments that the words don't reach

There's a grace too powerful to name

But Vil won't believe it ⸺ he can't believe it, rather. Why would [Name] watch over Vil, of all people? It was a foolish thought, after all. Vil was the reason why [Name] died. So why would they follow him when they could simply rest in the peace that reached them too soon?

We push away what we can never understand

We push away the unimaginable

...

Vil watches [Name] as they play with the butterflies that float around them. The younger Schoenheit had a ghost of a smile on their face as the beautiful insects fluttered about them. And Vil eyes the scene with wide, unbelieving eyes.

They are standing in the garden

Vil by [Name]'s side

The older Schoenheit slowly walks over, hesitantly approaching his younger sibling, who was acting like nothing had happened. Like it was all a dream.

As though sensing their older brother's presence, [Name] turns around, the small smile on their lips still there. And they do something Vil never thought was possible.

They take his hand...

[Name] opens their mouth to speak, looking up at Vil with a sad, accepting smile.

"It's quiet uptown."

Vil's eyes widen and the dam of emotion is released once again. He falls down to his knees, clenching his eyes closed as tears run down his cheeks, ruining his makeup. Gently squeezing his younger sibling's hand, he presses it against his cheek, trying to prove to himself that [Name] was indeed here.

Forgiveness. Can you imagine?

And for the first time in a long time, Vil smiled. Happy tears fall down his face and he looks up at [Name]. Then he notices a small flicker in [Name]'s expression.

Their eyes darken.

Their smile turn into a smirk that looked almost evil.

And then Vil realizes where he was.

Forgiveness.

Vil quickly jumps away, narrowly dodging a pile of rubble that fell right where he was a second ago. The Schoenheit rubs his eyes, wiping away the tears and gets his magic ready to defend himself.

Vil isn't in a garden. He isn't in home. He's in STYX, getting tested on because he overblotted and survived, though Vil wishes he never did. His heart aches, and he can't help but curse the Shroud brothers in his mind for bringing sweet [Name] into this.

He curses the world for having the gall to create a version of his younger sibling based on his memories just to attack him. For getting his hopes up, for getting him to think that [Name] was still with him. For making him go against his sibling once again. For making this the last time he'll see [Name] 'alive' and well.

Can you imagine?

[welcometololaland]

wip wednesday for y'all (on thursday) - thank you for your tags @rmd-writes @carlos-in-glasses @kiwiana-writes @heartstringsduet @cha-melodius @strandnreyes @hippolotamus @inflarescent @alrightbuckaroo @three-drink-amy @birdclowns @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, i hope to get to the snippets to read on my lunchbreak and reblog! thank you for continuing to think of me, i love reading your stuff <3 here's a little something from the au @rmd-writes have just started entitled Call Me (By My Name):

“Watch it,” the guy snaps, stepping neatly to Carlos’ right as Carlos practically flattens himself against the rear of the truck. They stop for a moment, time seeming to stand still as Carlos stares unapologetically at the man in front of him.

The captivating eyes are framed with dark lashes, fanning out across perfect, high cheekbones and complemented by full, pink lips. They look breathtaking, even though they’re wearing a scowl, and Carlos wants to press the tip of his finger to one, just to see how soft they are. He bets this guy is a good kisser, which is a very inappropriate thing to be thinking at the scene of an accident.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, even though he hasn't done anything wrong. This man – this beautiful, intriguing person – has Carlos’ heart feeling as if it's sitting in his throat, threatening to leap right out of his mouth. “I didn’t—”

“Hey, you’re APD, right?” the guy says, breaking the breathless trance Carlos has seemingly devolved into. “Can you, I don’t know, do your job? My captain is out there breaking up fights between drivers and you’re hiding around the back of our truck.”

Carlos starles at the accusation. “I'm not hiding,” he protests. “I just got here!”

“Great, good!” the man bites back pointing around the other side of the truck with passion. “The fight is over there, just in case you wanted to start helping out.”

“Should I bypass dispatch and just ask you where I’m needed?” Carlos retorts, surprised by his own assertiveness. Mere seconds ago he’d been in some dreamlike state where this man was kissing him into oblivion, but it turns out that’s just a figment of Carlos’ overactive imagination. This guy is a dick.

The man scoffs and turns away, the fluoro on the back of his turnouts directing Carlos’ attention to his name. Carlos opens his mouth, unsure of what he’s planning to say, when TK Strand calls over his shoulder.

“Maybe don’t make us do your job for you next time.”

open tag because i'm very late, but also for @lightningboltreader (because you said you were almost finished one bed!!!!) @watmalik @fitzherbertssmolder @a-kinkajou @inkweedandlizards and @whatsintheboxmh (because i'm a fiend for art wips!) @lemonlyman-dotcom (i know you posted a fic today, but just checking!) @wandering-night19 (spoilers for next chapter maybe?) @chicgeekgirl89 (hows seafaring?) @freneticfloetry (no pressure! i hope your vacation is going well!) @goodways (make me laugh i dare you) @rosedavid (are the words working?) @theghostofashton (more exes more exes more exes??? no pressure obviously i'm just a fiend) @ladytessa74 (did i make up that you were writing a spooky season au?) @indomitable-love (football wip PLS!!!!) @athousandrooms (anything from you is my beloved) @orchidscript (haven't seen you around recently pls share if you have something!!!)

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Just to See You Happy

Rating: T

Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Warnings (to Hide Spoilers)

Status: In-progress (3/?)

Tags: Time Travel Fix-It | Family Feels | Adopted Sibling Relationship | Quest of Erebor | Meddling Valar | Unreliable Narrator Bilbo Baggins | Bookverse is basically a lie | Flashbacks to Bilbo raising Frodo

Summary: Frodo has carried the Ring and deserves as much rest as any mortal can bear. He refuses to see his mission as complete until Bilbo finds his happiness. When Valinor does not hold the answer he needs, he launches himself into the past into an adventure that doesn’t belong to him all in the hope of finding Bilbo’s happiness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New Chapter: Chapter 3- Before Bilbo Signs a Contract

hese were the princes. The ones that died defending their uncle in that terrible battle.

“Are you Mr. Boggins?” Kili asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Frodo grinned. “I am a Mr. Baggins, but I believe you are here for my older brother.”

Kili seemed to accept that easily enough if his returning smile was anything to go off. Fili remained frozen in place.

“So you’re…not the burglar?”

Frodo wondered if he was slow and looked over at Kili to confirm if this was normal behavior. From the brunette’s bewilderment, he could assume it was not.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Frodo answered.

“Oh no! It’s not a disappointment.” Fili answered. “You just…you weren’t what I was expecting a burglar to be.”

Frodo raised an eyebrow now. Maybe he should have let Bilbo open the door. Maybe he screwed something up by not letting this occur exactly like it had the first time.

“That’s good, I guess. Considering, once again, I’m not one.” Before Fili had a chance to make this any more awkward, Frodo flung the door wide open. “In any case, please come in, feel free to hang your cloaks and join us in the dining room.”

Frodo tried to ignore the hushed conversation behind him as he moved further into the smial to find Bilbo.

“There’s something odd about one of the new dwarves.”

For more of this chapter, please click the AO3 link above!